In the back room of Pennington’s men’s department, Amelia stood at a table and met the eyes of her colleagues. George Weir, Mrs Woolden, the head of the ladies’ department, and design department assistant, Ruby Taylor – each watched her with varying degrees of attention.
Tightly clenching her new window design, Amelia steadfastly ignored the derision in Mr Weir’s eyes. It mattered so much to her that this design went ahead as she’d planned. Elizabeth had never before given her a free hand on the main window and this design was special – to celebrate the launch of the Titanic. It would almost certainly draw an infinite amount of attention. Especially considering how the store had been advertising its unveiling for the last month.
She cleared her throat. ‘So, with just two weeks until the Titanic departs, it’s time to start erecting the new window display. All the plans are in place and the merchandise selected, so I think it’s safe to say we can have everything ready in two days’ time.’
Mr Weir crossed his arms. ‘I understand Miss Pennington would like an equal amount of space given to menswear, Miss Wakefield. I hope you have taken that into account… this time.’
‘I have.’ She fought to keep her smile in place, lest her nerves showed. ‘I think you’ll all be pleased with the design.’
Mrs Woolden smiled. ‘I’m sure we will. Why don’t we take a look, dear?’
Amelia glanced at Ruby who nodded, the younger girl’s blue eyes unreadable. Although Ruby was a skilled seamstress, her often aloof manner meant she had few friends at Pennington’s – something Amelia had tried, and failed, to help her rectify. There only seemed to be one person who had broken through Ruby’s detachment and that was Victoria Lark who worked in Accessories.
Refusing to be party to the shop floor gossip circulating about the true nature of the two women’s relationship, Amelia had neither uncovered its credence, nor cared to further speculate. To her mind, whatever went on between Ruby and Victoria was no one else’s business.
Unrolling the design, Amelia smoothed it out on the table, taking some paperweights to secure the corners. ‘I thought we could have an image of the ship on the backboard and then a selection of mannequins showing clothes suitable for first-class passengers, right through to third. From Accessories, we could make use of hats, shoes, parasols. From Jewellery, we could have the women wearing—’
‘If I might interrupt…’ Mr Weir peered over his half-rimmed spectacles at the design, his expression reminiscent of a bulldog chewing a wasp. ‘For all Miss Pennington’s insistence we are a store for everyone, I really can’t believe she would want third-class passengers represented in our main window. Isn’t such a notion profoundly insensitive? The Titanic is a ship of prestige, Miss Wakefield. Something of wonder and excitement. How would anyone travelling third class be able to afford the clothes you intend displaying?’
‘That is exactly my point. We’ll display clothes affordable to all.’
He arched an eyebrow, his brown eyes shadowed with annoyance. ‘Isn’t it myself and Mrs Woolden that Miss Pennington consults about the latest fashions? Who she relies on to know what will sell and to whom? Do you think she and Mr Carter wish to appeal to people likely to spend more, or less, money in the store?’
Amelia squared her shoulders, prepared for a fight even as Mrs Woolden and Ruby remained tight-lipped. ‘I believe Miss Pennington and Mr Carter want Pennington’s to be a place people feel encouraged, not defeated. By showing clothes and accessories affordable to every pocket, we are filling people’s hearts and minds with possibility. That is what Pennington’s stands for, is it not?’
‘When Mr Pennington was here—’
‘But he’s not here, is he?’ Amelia’s heart raced at her own impertinence, but she refused to yield. ‘Mr Pennington left the store to Miss Pennington and Mr Carter. They have run Pennington’s for almost two years. The store is theirs now, and they have proven their innovative thinking many times over. I am willing to put my job on the line that Miss Pennington will agree with what I have in mind rather than go backwards, as you seem to want to do.’
‘Hear, hear.’ Mrs Woolden clapped her hands. ‘I completely agree. Do open your mind a little, Mr Weir. Isn’t the quest of your trip to New Year to gather information so that we might compete with America? To show that the British are equally as all-encompassing? Amelia’s window is just the ticket to start things off in the right direction.’
Grateful for Mrs Woolden’s support, Amelia’s confidence grew and she looked at Ruby. ‘Ruby? What do you think?’
Pushing a stray black curl from her cheek, Ruby leaned over the design sheet, her pretty brow furrowed. ‘I agree with both Mr Weir and Mrs Woolden. Maybe it would be advisable to ensure first-class attire is given centre stage and the lesser classes positioned to the sides. We want people to know all can be included, but surely Pennington’s would prefer the potential of higher ticketed sales?’
Surprised and pleased by Ruby’s forthright response when she was usually so quiet, Amelia nodded, happy that Ruby seemed to be blooming under Pennington’s employment as much as she had. ‘I understand your thinking, but how about a compromise that will satisfy our clientele and Pennington’s message of equal opportunity? We’ll place first-class passengers in the centre but have second and third mingling together around them as though talking and enjoying one another’s company. Why the need for obvious segregation?’ Amelia held the gazes around the table before lifting her chin. ‘I stand by my decision and would like to proceed accordingly. If any of you wish to consult Miss Pennington or Mr Carter before we start dressing the window, now is the time to do so.’
Amelia had no idea if her enforced bravado was convincing, but if she was to travel on the Titanic with Mr Weir, and then spend a further week with him in New York, it was imperative she exert her authority now. Lord only knew how the man would behave towards her when they were onboard. In his mid-thirties, he was tall and lean, and at least twelve or thirteen years her senior. His light brown hair was always immaculately combed, his Pennington’s uniform spotless. Just looking at him made Amelia feel inept and unkempt, but Elizabeth’s confidence in her had boosted Amelia’s nerve.
She could not falter – not if this trip was to be the gateway to the liberty from the past she had craved her entire adult life.
‘You have my vote to proceed with your design as it is, Miss Wakefield.’ Mrs Woolden stood and gave a firm nod. ‘I am confident I have selected garments suitable to all classes. Excuse me.’
Mrs Woolden strode from the room and Amelia looked to Mr Weir, her eyebrows raised.
He exhaled through flared nostrils and slowly stood. ‘So be it. I will have someone in my department bring my selections to you this afternoon.’
Amelia crossed her arms. ‘You won’t voice your reservations to Mr Carter?’
‘No. At least, not for the moment.’
‘Thank you.’
‘However, if I feel your display in any way demeans Pennington’s, I will not be backwards in coming forwards when I next see him.’
Mr Weir marched from the room.
As soon as the partition curtain fell behind him, Amelia sighed. ‘Well, I suppose winning the first battle is a step forward.’
Ruby stared at the design, a quiet sadness in her eyes, her shoulders slumped. Amelia frowned; a tangible melancholy seemed to surround her colleague that hadn’t been there before.
Stepping closer, she moved to touch Ruby’s shoulder before remembering the rebuff she’d received the last time she’d tried to offer the younger woman comfort.
The recent gossip came into Amelia’s mind again. Although it was not entirely impossible that Ruby was in love with Victoria Lark, the idea of people spreading malicious nonsense that could be founded on nothing was bound to be upsetting for those involved. Maybe Ruby had even heard the talk herself…
Amelia softened her voice. ‘Is everything all right, Ruby?’
Ruby started and snapped her gaze to Amelia’s. ‘Of course.’ She scowled. ‘Why do people keep asking me such questions?’
‘I just want you to know that if anything is bothering you, I am happy to listen. Mrs Lark isn’t the only friend you need to have—’
‘Mrs Lark?’ Ruby’s cheeks reddened. ‘What does she have to do with anything?’
‘Well, nothing, I’m sure. But if you—’
‘I’m perfectly all right, thank you.’
Ruby stormed from the room and Amelia sighed.
As much as she would like Ruby to confide in her as Amelia had eventually ventured to do with Elizabeth, she wasn’t strong enough to become entangled in the life of someone battling with obvious personal issues. She had more than enough pain in her own life to hide or mend.