A Store at War. Joanna Toye

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СКАЧАТЬ on the sales floor and everyone scuttling down as fast as they can. Well, you have to make way for customers, of course.’

      She didn’t sound too impressed with that, either.

      ‘But sometimes the air-raid warnings can last all night,’ objected Lily. ‘What then?’

      ‘You’re stuck, ducky.’

      ‘It’s never actually happened,’ said Gladys consolingly. ‘And we’ve never actually been seriously bombed, have we, in Hinton. There’s only a couple of factories, and nothing big like Birmingham or West Bromwich or …’

      She obviously couldn’t bring herself to say ‘Coventry’.

      ‘No, but … well, they can always get things wrong,’ said Lily. ‘Burrell’s got hit last winter.’

      ‘That,’ said Beryl dismissively. ‘A couple of incendiaries the Jerries couldn’t be bothered to lug back with them.’

      ‘I suppose.’

      Lily was glad she’d be able to tell her mum about the precautions at Marlow’s. She knew it had been bothering her. Dora would be relieved Lily had had a hot lunch too. It wasn’t just Lily’s wage which was going to be a help to their household budget.

      ‘Why does Beryl have to be so snide all the time?’ she asked Gladys as they made their way back to the sales floor. ‘I notice she still had to sit with us. Obviously nobody likes her. And fancy asking the boss’s son what was going on!’

      ‘I know,’ Gladys sounded resigned. ‘But that’s Beryl. She seems to get away with it. “If you don’t ask, you don’t get” is what she says.’

      ‘Yes,’ replied Lily. ‘And one day you might get more than you’re asking for, like the sack!’

      Gladys shook her head.

      ‘Not Beryl. Mr Bunting, the buyer on Toys, you’ve seen him—’

      Lily had. Short, plump, with a frill of white hair round a bald crown, he looked like the old toymaker in the fairy story. It had come as no surprise to Lily to learn that he doubled as Santa at the staff Christmas party.

      ‘He’s been here years. He’s a soft touch – that’s what I heard Miss Frobisher call him.’ Gladys hesitated. ‘Beryl calls him something quite different, of course.’

      Beryl would, thought Lily.

      Lily was on her hands and knees, trying to brush up the nap of the carpet where a set of glass-fronted drawers had stood, when she was aware of a little cough behind her.

      ‘Excuse me …’ It was the first time a male voice had spoken to her since she’d stepped through the staff entrance and the first time that day that anyone who might be senior had given her, however nicely phrased, anything but an order or an instruction.

      Without looking round – surely it wasn’t Mr Marlow Junior, the floor supervisor? What had she done? What hadn’t she done? – Lily scrambled to her feet. Her hair, tamed by her mum that morning, had gone its own way with the effort of her scrubbing, and she pushed it out of her eyes with the back of her hand. With the other she smoothed down the skirt of her dress, horribly aware of the dust and fluff it had attracted. And she’d been congratulating herself on being put on a carpeted department instead of having to stand on a hard parquet floor all day!

      ‘Will you be much longer? Only I rather fancy the dining set that we’ve got on promotion in that little area. Sideboard in carved oak, Tudor – well, Tudor style – to the right, draw-leaf table central, a couple of chairs … Think I’ll have room?’

      ‘Erm, probably, as long as you’re not planning on Henry VIII sitting there with a goblet and throwing a chicken bone over his shoulder as well,’ offered Lily.

      ‘Hah! Hadn’t thought of that!’ said the young man. ‘But now you mention it …’

      ‘I was only joking!’ said Lily quickly.

      ‘I realise that. But I could set the table to make it look more tempting. Sorry, I should introduce myself. James Goodridge. Jim. Third sales, Furniture and Household.’

      ‘Lily. Lily Collins.’

      Lily found herself looking up into deep-brown eyes behind wire-framed glasses. And looking a long way up. Sid was tall, but this lad – Jim – must be well over six foot, and skinny with it – a right bean-pole, her mum would have said.

      ‘I’m sorry if I’m holding you up. It’s my first day,’ she added.

      ‘I thought I hadn’t seen you before. Well, seems we’re going to be neighbours.’

      ‘Looks like it.’

      She couldn’t place his accent. Not Midlands, definitely, but not posh, like old Mr Marlow, and not put on, either, like she could tell Beryl was trying to do. It was sort of natural, gentle, like the hills on the calendar her mum kept in the kitchen, the one that had come as a pull-out with Woman’s Weekly at the turn of the year. And then she heard herself saying – a bit forward, perhaps, but he seemed so normal and friendly …

      ‘Perhaps once you’ve set the table I can come for tea.’

      ‘You’re on! So what do we need? I’ll half-inch some stuff from Small Household – tray, tray cloth, crockery, teapot …’

      ‘Cake stand,’ suggested Lily. ‘No cake, we’ll have to pretend that …’

      ‘Cake stand! Of course! You’re going to be good at this sales lark, Lily.’

      ‘Well …’ Lily was pleased with the compliment, but cautious. ‘I’ve got to be good at being a junior first.’

      ‘It’s not so bad. You can soon work up.’

      ‘I hope so.’

      Then, in case anyone was looking, she added quickly:

      ‘I’d better get on. Or you’ll never get your stuff moved in time for breakfast, let alone tea! You should probably check with Miss Frobisher, but she told me and Gladys she wanted our old sales space clear for you by three o’clock.’

      ‘Perfect. See you later!’

      Lily watched him go, skirting a display of soft toys in his dark suit, watched him stop by Miss Frobisher, checking with her as she’d suggested, presumably, and then bound back up the stairs. He was all angles, tall and gawky, nothing like as smooth as the other salesmen she’d observed, with his wrists poking out from his shirt cuffs, his thatch of dark hair, and his glasses ever so slightly askew.

      He seemed awfully nice, though. Friendly. And he’d spoken to her like a human being although he was a salesman proper, and she was a very junior junior.

      She might be bounded on one side by bitchy Beryl in Toys, but with Household and Furniture on the other, Gladys an ally on her own department, and Miss Frobisher to learn from, Lily, as she went back to her brushing, felt very fortunate indeed.

      Then it happened. The air-raid sirens began their СКАЧАТЬ