Читать книгу Something Wholesale - Eric Newby - Страница 11

‘It’s quite easy really, Mr Eric,’ said Miss Webb, the stock-keeper of the Coat Department when I reported to her after the interview with my father. ‘All you have to do is look at the docket. It gives you the number of the piece and the colour. You either have to get it down from there,’ she pointed to the shelves above our heads on which rolls of material, done up in brown paper, lay one on top of one another like giant chrysalids, ‘Or else it’s on the floor.’ We were standing together in a sea of material and torn paper. ‘If it’s not in the fixtures or on the floor then it may be in the cellar. If it’s not in the cellar then it hasn’t been delivered and it may not even be made.’

I thought of the vanmen who had been making such a business of unloading a few pieces into the cellar when I arrived, and shuddered.

‘All you have to do,’ she went on, ‘is to measure off the quantity that’s written on the docket, and mark it off on the ticket, then cut it. You can either use a yardstick for measuring, or these.’ She showed me three inadequate-looking brass pins stuck in the dining-room table that was used for ‘cutting off’ ‘I’ll look after the trimmings, the buttons and the canvas and the linings, if you do the material.’