Читать книгу Rainy Days for the Harpers Girls - Rosie Clarke - Страница 6

‘Will you be working late again this evening?’ Beth Burrows asked her husband Jack as she reached for her warm coat and pulled it on that morning in mid-March. The wind still had a bite in it even though Mr Marco had dressed Harpers’ windows with spring clothes, daffodils and Easter bunnies. They were a colourful sight and had already brought customers in looking for the new hats, but she wasn’t ready to give up her winter coat just yet.

‘I should think so,’ Jack said and kissed her briefly, looking distracted. As part owner and manager of a hotel, he was always working extra hours to make it profitable and she knew things had improved since he’d made lots of changes to the way things were done and improved the décor. It was now producing a reasonable profit, though not enough to make anyone rich. Beth sometimes wondered if he’d jumped in too soon, but he seemed pleased with what he was doing, so she didn’t say much, even though she regretted her husband’s long hours. ‘Don’t wait supper for me, love. I can grab something at the hotel…’

‘Yes, I know…’ She smothered a sigh because this wasn’t how she’d imagined it would be. Jack had spoken of running a hotel that they could live in and manage together. Now Beth spent most of her evenings at home with Jack’s father Fred Burrows and saw her husband for a few hours at the weekend. ‘I might go to a meeting with Rachel Craven…’

‘Those women’s suffrage things…’ Jack frowned at her. ‘I would never deny you anything, Beth, you know that – but all that marching and demanding equal rights for women… well, it isn’t going to happen. It would be better if you stayed away. I don’t want the police throwing you in prison…’

Beth moved towards him, half curious, half annoyed. He’d known she was a member before they married and she wasn’t going to let him get away with that remark. Other husbands might forbid their wives to be members or take part, but Jack should know better and respect her views. ‘Would you disown me if it happened?’

‘No! You know I wouldn’t,’ Jack said genuinely horrified. Yet it was happening in homes all over Britain. Working men were some of the worst and they bullied their wives to try and stop them joining the suffrage movement, but since the death of Emily Davidson, more and more women of all classes had joined, and quite a few men too. The way the suffragettes were being treated, force-fed in prison and beaten when arrested, was terrible, and Beth knew Jack was only concerned for her, even though pride had driven her to ask. Jack looked down at her and smiled. ‘You know I love you, Beth, and I agree that women should have the vote if they want it – why not? I can’t see things ever being equal in the workplace, the men just won’t stand for it, but you should all be paid a fair wage and treated decently.’

‘So that’s why I married you,’ Beth teased and kissed him again, relieved that he wasn’t going to start laying down the law the way many husbands did. ‘You don’t mind if I go then?’

‘Of course, not – but get a taxi home, love. We can afford it and I don’t want you running the risk of being set on by louts…’ He smiled and reached out to touch her cheek. ‘I’m only concerned for your safety…’

‘I’ll probably walk to the bus stop with my friends, but if there’s no bus, I’ll take a cab,’ Beth promised.

She understood why Jack worried, because feelings against the Women’s Movement were running high. The militants had angered many, both in government and out, and a lot of men simply did not see why their wives, daughters and sisters were shaming them by speaking out in support of such disgusting behaviour. Men with money took care of their womenfolk, some even went so far as to grant them an allowance that made them almost independent, but they still considered that the feminine mind and body was too weak to be considered as an equal to men. Only very special men understood that women could be as strong and determined as they were themselves, that they didn’t want to be petted and treated as fragile beings but as intelligent humans with minds of their own.

Beth smiled as she followed her father-in-law out to the bus stop. Fred Burrows had once been the headmaster of a boy’s school. He’d fallen out with the governors because he refused to use the cane in his school and because of that he’d been asked to resign and had ended up working at Harpers as the goods manager, seeing that all the stock reached the department it was intended for. Beth was happy that he’d resigned rather than give into bullying for two reasons: one, because it showed the kind of man he was and, two, because she’d met her husband through him.

‘Feeling a bit down in the dumps, love?’ Fred asked, glancing at her face. ‘You should put your foot down, Beth; tell Jack you want to go somewhere nice – to the theatre or the pictures…’

‘He took me dancing for my birthday,’ Beth said, smothering a sigh. ‘Jack wants a better future for us, Dad, so how can I complain?’ She smiled at him with affection, because he was a lovely man and she was so fond of him.

‘Most wives would,’ Fred replied and grinned at her. ‘Don’t let the fun go out of your lives. Make sure he takes you somewhere at the weekend…’

‘Yes, I shall,’ she said and touched his arm in gratitude as their bus arrived and they jumped on. Fred was the first to get his money out and paid for both their tickets. ‘I shan’t be home for supper this evening…’

‘I’ll buy a pie and a pint, mebbe see Harold down the pub. He likes a chat and a game of darts now and then…’

‘Yes, that would be nice – give him my regards,’ Beth said, grateful to the ex-Scotland-yard detective who had solved the mystery surrounding her aunt’s so-called accident, when she’d been pushed down the stairs and died in hospital of her injuries. She looked at him curiously. ‘Have you ever thought about getting married again, Fred?’

‘No, never,’ he said and sadness passed across his face. ‘I was happy in my marriage and I could never replace my wife… Besides, I’ve got you, Jack and Tim… and your friend Miss Gibbs comes to tea sometimes. I’m happy to work overtime at the store when I’m needed and I’ve a few friends I see when I want…’

Beth nodded. ‘You didn’t mind my asking?’

‘I know you’re wondering if I’ll be lonely when Jack finally finds you somewhere to live nearer the hotel…’

‘Yes, I was,’ Beth confessed. ‘I suppose that’s silly really. You lived alone for much of the time before I moved in…’

‘The lads were at school during term time and then working, Jack on the ships and Tim now in the Royal Flying Corps – but I served my time in the army as a youngster and I think you learn to be independent there…’

‘Yes, I expect so…’ She hesitated, then, ‘Is it because you served as a soldier that you think there will be a war?’

‘No, it’s what I read in the newspapers,’ Fred said seriously. ‘It might be just a skirmish and over in a few weeks, but it’s been brewing for a while out there in the Balkans. It will only take one spark to set the whole thing off…’

Beth was silent. Fred was very fond of reading The Times, which had just announced it was going to cut its price in half, to one penny. She sometimes picked up the papers her father-in-law abandoned and she’d read about the troubles in Ireland, with Ulster teetering on the brink of civil war only last month as the British government dragged their feet over the Home Rule Bill. Even though she looked mainly for news of the suffragettes, one of whom had slashed a famous painting in the National Gallery in January that year, which Beth thought foolish and unnecessary, she had noticed all the reports of unrest in various parts of Europe. One paper insisted that the arms race was becoming dangerous and lambasted the British government for sitting on its hands while Wilhelm II, Kaiser and Emperor of Prussia, prepared for war. Most people scoffed at such reports, believing it was warmongering and foolish, but she knew that Fred took it seriously. Mr Churchill certainly did, demanding a larger budget for the navy than ever before, which brought accusations from the opposition that he was risking national security by angering neighbours across the Channel.

It seemed to Beth that the German ruler was a hard man with no feelings. He’d gone so far as to ban a dance called the tango for his troops, because it was said to be too intimate. He’d even called on people to shun those who continued to perform what was a popular dance. What kind of a man would do that? Beth loved to dance. Jack had taken her a few times, though they mostly stuck to the waltz or the two-step, but she would have loved to do the more daring tango if she’d known how.

‘If war did come,’ she said slowly, looking at Fred, ‘would Jack have to go – and Tim?’

‘Jack wouldn’t be the first to be called on as he’s married,’ Fred said, ‘but Tim certainly will be in the thick of it. He’s already been flying over German factories and shipyards, helping to take pictures. My son is excited to be flying and nothing would keep him out…’

‘Maybe it won’t happen,’ Beth said hopefully as the bus slowed to a halt and they descended into the rush and noise of Oxford Street. A small crowd was gathering round Harpers and pointing at the windows. It was one of the new displays for the second anniversary of opening day, and there was a display of glass and china, some of which was advertised as being a free gift to the first six customers to spend thirty pounds in the china and glass department. ‘Oh, look what Sally has done…’ She frowned thoughtfully, ‘Do you think anyone has that much to spend all at once?’

‘A rich uncle or father perhaps,’ Fred said. ‘It’s a good sales ploy, Beth, and it has certainly drawn an audience…’

The free vases were just one of the special offers; men’s suits were offered with a free shirt and collar; ties were given free with a spend of more than twenty pounds.

‘Gosh…’ Beth drew a wondering breath. ‘I think we must be the only department that doesn’t have any special offers…’

‘It’s because you’re always busy anyway,’ Fred said. ‘Besides, we’ve got a week of these special windows, so yours may be another day…’

Beth nodded and smiled as she noticed that a small queue had formed at the front of the shop. Free offers and special reductions had brought a surge of extra custom, but would it tail off as soon as the offers were over?

It was a quarter past nine when Beth realised that Marion Kaye probably wasn’t coming in that day, because she was very late and, normally, she was no more than a minute or so, if that, and she tried hard not to be late these days. As soon as Mrs Craven made her tour of the floor, Beth asked her if she’d heard from her junior salesgirl.

‘No, not as yet,’ Rachel Craven replied with a frown. ‘It would not be easy for her to let us know if she was going to be late – but usually a relative can either telephone or call from a box if someone is sick…’

‘I know she has difficulty at home,’ Beth said. ‘We haven’t been rushed off our feet this morning, so we shall manage quite well – but if we did have a surge of customers, it would make things difficult at break time.’

‘The ground floor and the men’s department are where all the customers are this morning,’ Rachel told her with a smile. ‘I even gave the girls on the china and glass department a hand with wrapping a large gift. A gentleman has purchased a set of crystal wine, sherry, whisky, port, brandy, liqueur and water glasses, three crystal decanters, also a leaded crystal fruit bowl and a set of desert dishes and triumphantly carried off his two matching vases for spending sixty pounds.’

‘Goodness me!’ Beth cried astonished. ‘He must be wealthy to spend so much on glassware…’

‘He said it was a wedding present for his daughter – and he particularly wanted the vases for himself. He has been debating whether or not to buy a pair before this and he couldn’t believe his luck that he got them for nothing…’

‘I suppose it is worth it to turn so much stock over,’ Beth said, ‘but it seems extravagant to give so much away…’

‘Apparently, Mrs Harper thought it would bring customers in and Mr Harper said it is often done in America…’

‘Yes, she mentioned something of the kind to me,’ Beth said. ‘But more than fifteen pounds is a lot of money to give away…’

‘I suppose they didn’t cost that much and they were not selling…’ Rachel shrugged. The vases would have cost half that much wholesale and it still left Harpers a small profit on the glassware sold. ‘I must get on, Mrs Burrows. I understand the men’s department is rather busy just now…’

Beth watched her leave and then a few customers came in and started looking round. One of them asked what was reduced and Beth told her that they had no reductions at the moment. She made a face of disgust and left, as if she considered she’d been cheated, but a gentleman asked to see a selection of leather bags. He bought two, one for his wife and another one for his sister. Beth took his money and gift-wrapped the bags for him. It was only her second sale of the morning and again she wondered at the wisdom of these bargains, though, of course, Mr Harper had wanted to make a bit of a splash for the second anniversary of their opening – and it wasn’t Beth’s place to decide.

Sally came down to the department later in the day. She asked how trade was going and Beth told her it had been slower than usual.

‘I suppose that was to be expected because of the increased trade elsewhere,’ Sally said, frowning. She rubbed at her forehead and sighed. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea, but it did shift those vases and I’ve already replaced the crystal and china we sold, at least I’ve reordered. I thought a free gift was better than a reduction…’

‘Mrs Craven said it worked very well on the ground floor,’ Beth said and looked at her anxiously as Sally put a hand to her back. ‘Are you well, Mrs Harper?’

‘Yes, just a little backache,’ Sally said and smiled. ‘I’ll just have to put up with it – and my doctor says I shouldn’t sit about…’

‘Oh, they tell you all sorts of things these days,’ Beth said. ‘Women were told to relax and rest for weeks before birth once. I think some of them turned into invalids… some of them still do…’

‘Well, I have no intention of fading into the wallpaper and I shall work until I’m forced to give up,’ Sally said and laughed. ‘Ben is taking me to the theatre this evening. I’ve been wanting to see Pygmalion for ages…’

‘Oh, lovely. I hear Mrs Patrick Campbell is wonderful…’

‘The critics are calling it a triumph, though I understand some of the language is a little bit salty…’

Beth laughed. The paper had reported one of Eliza Doolittle’s remarks as stars and an exclamation mark, but everyone knew what it meant, and the word was making the rounds of smart society with a lot of winks and nods.

‘You should get Jack to take you,’ Sally suggested. ‘You’ll need to queue for tickets, unless you book ahead, but I’m sure it will be worth it…’

Beth smiled and agreed, but she didn’t have time to queue up for tickets, and even if she had, she would most likely end up going with Fred or a girlfriend, because Jack didn’t have time to take her to the theatre. Besides, on his rare nights off they liked to go dancing or to a good meal out. Beth considered herself lucky, because many of the girls she’d known at school were married to men who went no further than their local pub. At least Jack took her somewhere nice when he did have a night off.