Sally spoke with all of the staff before moving on and taking the lift to the ground floor. There were sufficient customers for her to feel that all was well as she moved from counter to counter, noting stock levels. The exquisite French overlaid glass vases that Jenni Harper had ordered and sent over were sticking a little; Sally had thought them expensive at the start and an idea came to her as she took the lift back to the top floor. She would suggest it to Ben over lunch…
For a moment as she stepped out of the lift her head seemed to spin and she clutched at the wall. She felt slightly nauseous and stood for a moment to steady herself.
‘Are you unwell, Mrs Harper?’ Ruth Canning, the girl she’d employed as her personal secretary looked at her anxiously as she entered her office. ‘May I get you a drink of water – or a cup of tea?’
Sally drew herself upright. She wasn’t going to give into a silly little dizzy spell. ‘I should like a cup of tea when you’re ready,’ she said, glancing at a sheaf of papers in Ruth’s hand. ‘Is that the stock list I requested from the men’s department?’
‘Yes, Mrs Harper,’ Ruth said. ‘I was just going to check one of the figures with Mr Simpson. It didn’t look right to me…’
‘I’ll deal with it,’ Sally said and took the sheaf of papers. Ruth was an excellent helper and if she said there was a mistake there would be one, but any challenge must come from her, Ben or Mr Stockbridge. She could just imagine the reaction of the head of the men’s department if her secretary challenged him. Ruth was eager and bright but apt to charge in too quickly.
‘Yes, Mrs Harper. I just thought he might like to correct it himself before it came to your attention…’
‘He probably would,’ Sally said, ‘but that won’t do, Miss Canning. You must leave these things to my discretion…’ the reprimand was mild, hidden by a smile, but it was there. The staff had a hierarchy all its own and any breach of etiquette was frowned on by the supervisors. However, Sally knew that she’d done much the same when she was just a new buyer and not the wife of the Store’s owner. So, she didn’t want to scold Ruth for what she knew was a good intention. ‘Thank you for pointing it out to me… your sharp eyes are such a help…’
Ruth beamed with pleasure and Sally reflected that it did far more good to praise than to scold. ‘Now, I could just murder that pot of tea…’
Sitting in her comfortable office chair, Sally realised that the brief moment of dizziness had passed, just as it had twice before. There was nothing wrong. It was all part of carrying a baby, but if she told Ben, he would wrap her in cotton wool for the last months of her pregnancy and that was the last thing she wanted…
2
Marion Kaye left work at the same time as Miss Gibbs. Miss Gibbs had told her she could call her Maggie outside working hours, but as her junior, she didn’t feel that she ought, even though Miss Gibbs was very friendly towards her.
‘What are you doing this evening?’ Miss Gibbs said, smiling at her. ‘I’m going to my first-aid classes and I wondered if you would like to join? It’s for a good cause…’
Marion looked at her uncertainly. ‘I’m not sure… how much does it cost? Only, I give Ma all but a shilling of my wage and I couldn’t afford to pay more than tuppence…’
‘It is absolutely free,’ Maggie told her, her eyes bright with warmth. ‘If you want something to eat, you have to pay, but the classes are given free – it’s because the organisers think if ever there is a war, we ladies ought to know how to bandage someone properly and lots of other useful things…’
‘It sounds really interesting and I’d love to come…’ Marion said, a note of longing in her voice. She loved working at Harpers and being one of the girls and would like to go out with friends in the evening, but her mother needed her help at home. ‘I can’t manage it this week – but I’ll ask Ma. She might let me come next time…’
‘You tell her it is all very proper and safe,’ Maggie said. ‘We’re taught by trained nurses and a respectable doctor lectures us once a month. I would see you got on the right bus home…’
‘Thank you, Miss Gibbs…’ Marion said with a little blush. ‘You’re so kind to me…’
‘I told you, call me Maggie outside working hours,’ Maggie said and impulsively squeezed her arm. ‘I know what it feels like when you have to get home, because you’re needed. My father was ill for months before he died and I needed to help look after him…’ She sighed. ‘I still miss him…’
‘Do you miss your mother?’ Marion dared to ask.
‘Sometimes, but not the way I miss Poppa.’ Maggie’s smiled wobbled. ‘He loved me so much and he was so disappointed when his accident prevented me from training to be a teacher – but I’m happy at work…’
‘You live with Mrs Craven and Miss Minnie from the dress alterations…’ Marion blushed. ‘I’m sorry. She told me to call her that…’
‘Yes, I know,’ Maggie said reassuringly. ‘Miss Lumley hates her surname and asked to be known as Miss Minnie instead, which is what everyone has called her for years. Her sister Mildred was Miss Lumley and I think she’s still grieving for her, so we always call her Miss Minnie.’ Maggie smiled. ‘She didn’t really have a proper interview. Rachel spoke to Mrs Harper and she invited her for coffee, took one look at her work and gave her the job. She is a wonderful seamstress…’
‘Yes, I know. I’d love to have something made by her, but it’s so expensive…’
‘Oh, very,’ Maggie agreed and sighed. ‘Beautiful to see though…’
‘I’d better go,’ Marion said regretfully, ‘or I shall miss the bus and Ma will worry if I’m late…’ She would have loved to stop and talk to Maggie, but if she did, she would be late home and everyone would be waiting for their tea.
Marion ran to her stop and clambered on the bus as it pulled to a halt. She climbed the winding stairs to the top level and found a seat. Several passengers were sitting there, but it wasn’t as crowded as downstairs, because some people didn’t like riding in the open air, especially if it was wet or cold. That evening it was chilly but dry and Marion rather liked the feel of the wind in her face. She’d got her plain grey felt hat well pinned down on her short dark hair. Her sister Kathy had cut it for her at Marion’s request, because it had just been too much trouble when left long. Short, it curled into the nape of her neck and about her face; long it frizzed everywhere and she had to drag it back and secure it with hairpins, which never stayed put, so because she had no time to spend putting it up, she’d let Kathy chop it off. The result had brought a few tears, but at work the girls had liked it and Mrs Burrows had told her it suited her – it saved twenty minutes or more in the mornings, making it possible for her to do all she needed to and still get to work on time.
Rush Terrace, in which Marion lived with her mother, sisters and younger brothers, was a row of tall, narrow houses, all of which had long back gardens, which made them lucky, because everyone grew vegetables and some kept a few chickens. Marion knew that in other similar streets some of the back-to-back houses only had a tiny back yard, but her home had a good garden that her brothers dug and tended so they always had plenty of vegetables in season. She had two brothers at home still, her elder brother Dan having gone off more than three years previously after a violent row with his father over his treatment of their mother, and two sisters younger than herself. Their father worked on the ships and was seldom home, something they all felt relieved about, despite the shortage of money his absence caused. Dan had fought