Mr Brown had described the girl as having reddish-brown hair. Rachel knew that one girl in her old department had that colour hair, but without proof she could do nothing – except keep an extra sharp eye out for pilfering.
Work problems should stay at work!
Rachel got into bed and closed her eyes. She had her room to herself again now, because they had decided she should and the others didn’t mind sharing. It was nice having her own room, but she hadn’t minded Maggie sleeping in the other single bed.
Once again, her thoughts returned to William Bailey. Rachel enjoyed meeting him for tea and lunch – but if he wanted more than friendship – and she sensed he did, could she really trust him?
Rachel had thought her marriage to Paul happy, but at the last he’d turned bitter, almost as if he blamed her for his debilitating illness, as if he resented that she would go on living after he was gone. At the end, he’d told her he still loved her and begged her forgiveness. She’d kissed him and told him she loved him, but the hurt had gone deep. It made her grief harder and for a long time she’d felt as if she could never trust or love again, but gradually the hurt had faded and she’d been able to remember the good times, the happy days when Paul had been so generous and kind, even though they’d never had much money to spare.
Life with William would be very different. He had a private income, inherited from his family, and a well-paid if precarious job as a Member of Parliament. Yet she knew that he didn’t have to earn a wage and if she became his wife, she would be secure for life – but she would not marry him for that reason. Her job and friendships at Harpers meant too much to her to be given up lightly. Of course, she didn’t know for sure if he would ask her to be his wife.
Smiling at her own foolishness, Rachel went to sleep. He would ask when he was ready, and she was quite content in her job at Harpers. She wasn’t sure that she was prepared to give up her independence to be a wife. Paul had always insisted that she must stay at home to take care of him, but she rather liked working and perhaps she would prefer to remain at Harpers rather than disappear into the background like so many wives.
Rachel checked her watch after she hung her jacket up in the cloakroom and placed her bag in her personal locker. It was a good system at Harpers and ensured that there was no pilfering of personal items; Sally had introduced it after a couple of girls had had a few shillings taken from their purses. No one had been caught and it was felt too awkward to question the staff over small thefts, though she’d been told to keep her eyes open for any unusual activity.
Leaving to start her first tour of the store, Rachel began with the ground floor, her sharp eyes moving over the counters, checking that everything was in place and nothing left on the floor or out on the counters. The cleaner was usually reliable, but on two mornings she’d picked up litter from the previous day. It was strange how ladies who looked very smart would carelessly drop a bus ticket or a receipt on the floor.
She was aware that the premises next door was in the process of being made ready to become a part of Harpers but wasn’t sure whether any work had yet been done as no one had said anything about it to her, and Mrs Harper was not in as much as she had been because of her pregnancy and so Rachel didn’t see her as often as she had once.
Everything on the ground floor was perfect and she stopped to watch as Mr Marco moved the blinds to gain access to his latest window display. He was so clever and he insisted on keeping everything secret until the last moment so that the staff was as surprised as the crowds that gathered to see the windows revealed whenever they were changed.
He turned and saw her, winked and then disappeared behind the blind. Rachel smiled to herself. Everyone liked Mr Marco, who always had a smile or a word for them – but she sometimes sensed he hid a secret sorrow from the world, though he’d never spoken of it and she would never dream of asking.
Seeing a girl scurrying towards the lifts, Rachel frowned. Janice Browning was cutting it fine; another minute and she would be late. Rachel wondered if Beth was strict enough over timekeeping. When she was the supervisor for the bag, hat and scarf department, she’d jumped on anyone arriving late, because once you let it go, the girls took advantage – or some of them did.
Frowning, Rachel took the lift up to the next floor and was in time to hear Beth telling Janice that she was only just on time. Maggie was already at her counter and Marion was rearranging the hat stands, which was supposed to be Janice Browning’s job. She’d thought they looked particularly nice recently and now knew why. Janice wasn’t the artistic one; it was Marion’s work.
‘Good-morning, Mrs Burrows,’ she said and smiled. ‘The department looks very nice. I congratulate you – and you, Miss Kaye. That colour combination is excellent…’
She noticed Janice Browning shoot a look of dislike at Marion and realised she may have made a mistake. By noticing and praising Marion’s work, she might have upset the older girl. Rachel knew that jealousy could sometimes cause trouble between the girls and decided not to mention that Miss Browning had been a little late. After all, it was no longer her job and Beth must manage it herself.
‘I shall get on,’ she said. ‘I will speak to you later, Mrs Burrows…’
With a nod of her head, she left them and continued her tour of the shop. Only if Beth came to her with a complaint about a member of staff could she do anything to help.
8
‘When will you get the keys for the new property?’ Sally asked her husband as they were dressing for work that morning in early April.
‘I expect today,’ Ben said, grinning at her like a small boy with a huge ice cream cornet. His eyes were sparkling, the excitement barely hidden. ‘I’ve made an appointment with a builder at four this afternoon and I hope to get the ball rolling.’
‘At last it’s ours,’ Sally nodded her approval. ‘Lawyers always seem to drag their feet – I can’t wait to see it…’ Her hand went surreptitiously to the small of her back.
‘Impatient one,’ Ben said and moved towards her, concern replacing the glee. ‘Does your back hurt again?’
‘A bit,’ she admitted, ‘but I’m all right, so don’t fuss…’
‘I know you won’t stop working until the last minute,’ Ben said, ‘but don’t neglect yourself, Sally. You’re very important to me – and to Harpers…’
‘I know.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I’m not an invalid, Ben. I’m just having a baby.’ And it wasn’t that long to go now, only a month to six weeks according to her doctor’s opinion.
‘But it’s my baby and you’re my wife,’ he murmured as he took a tie from the selection hanging on the back of his wardrobe door. ‘Is this one right with this suit?’ He held it against him.
‘It’s all right – but this is better,’ she said and took one slightly darker from the selection. ‘This tones well…’
‘See, I can’t even dress myself without you,’ he said and laughed as she shook her head and disappeared through the bedroom door, across the wide hall to their kitchen.
Sally hadn’t been able to eat much first thing in the early weeks of her pregnancy but now she was hungry all the time and she started on her favourite iced biscuits as she waited for the toast to brown.
Mr Marco was waiting for Sally when she arrived at her office. He looked as if he was about to burst with news, so she put a finger to her lips, because the new window displays were a secret. Once inside and the door firmly shut, she said, ‘Well, did you get her?’
‘Yes, she has agreed to do it,’ he said, his eyes lighting