24

It was another two days before Maggie returned to her job in the department. She was looking tired and her eyes had shadows beneath them, but she gave Beth a wan smile when she walked in and hung up her jacket.

‘The police won’t let us have the funeral yet,’ she told Beth when they had a few minutes to talk. ‘My uncle has taken charge of it all and he said I could stay with him if I wanted… he lives out in the suburbs and it would be expensive travelling in every day.’ She hesitated and looked at Beth shyly. ‘May I stay at yours for a while, please? I’m not sure what I want to do, but I don’t much like my aunt or my cousins and my uncle was calling my mother bad names.’

‘Of course you can stay with us,’ Beth told her. ‘Aunt Helen is expecting you – she fusses sometimes, but we get on reasonably well. I think you’ll be happy enough once you settle down.’

‘Thank you so much,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ve packed my things into two bags I found in the cupboard under the stairs. Uncle Morris will let me know when we can have the funeral. He says Poppa had an insurance that will pay for it – but he says my mother owes me half of the compensation money because Poppa left half of what he owned to me…’

‘Your father must have made a will. Do you think your mother knew about it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Maggie replied with a shrug. ‘I don’t care about that money – it won’t bring him back, or her: it’s blood money!’

‘Have the police been able to trace her at all?’

‘No, they say there is no sign of her,’ Maggie said, ‘but we know that she cashed the cheque a week ago and walked away with all that money tucked into her handbag…’

‘Why didn’t she put it into a post office account?’ Beth said. ‘I have one. I only have a pound saved so far, but it’s safer than keeping it in your bag or under the bed.’

‘I think she was planning to leave,’ Beth said. ‘I asked Mr Jones and he told me it was true that my mother had a fancy man… He worked down the docks, same as my father. Mr Jones thinks she went off with Bill Rumble and that he planned the whole thing to get the money.’

‘Did he know how much your father was owed?’

‘He was in charge of the payout, because he was one of the men concerned with workers’ rights. He must have known exactly what Poppa had paid in and how much he would get for such crippling injuries.’

‘He couldn’t have planned the injury surely?’

‘Mr Jones says he could have engineered the accident, and Bill Rumble has disappeared – he didn’t go to work the day my mother went off…’

Beth looked at her in dismay. ‘That would mean he had planned your father’s death… and to run off with your mother…’

Maggie nodded, her face pale. ‘Mabel says it’s murder and if the police catch them they will both hang…’

‘No!’ Beth cried and her hand went to her throat. ‘That can’t be true, surely?’

Maggie’s eyes brimmed with tears she struggled to blink away. ‘I knew she didn’t love him and she didn’t want to look after him – but I can’t believe they planned it all right down to the accident.’ She caught back a sob. ‘It’s so awful, Beth. I can’t bear to think about it.’

‘Poor you,’ Beth said, feeling dreadful for her friend. ‘Let’s hope your mother has a good explanation for what she’s done…’

‘I wouldn’t press charges for my share of the money,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ve never wanted the money and I’d rather have my father back and without the pain – but if they planned to hurt him, they deserve to be punished. My uncle says they’ve conspired to diddle the insurance and Poppa’s firm, as well as him and me…’

‘That’s so upsetting for you…’

‘I couldn’t wait to be back with you and Mrs Craven…’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re back,’ she said and squeezed her hand.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without my friends here…’

Beth nodded, but there was no time to say more because customers had entered the department, and for the rest of the day they were busy serving. At the end of the afternoon, they left together.

Maggie looked pale and anxious, clearly nervous of her reception, as they boarded the tram to go home, but, to Beth’s surprise, Aunt Helen had tea almost ready and she’d put some flowers out of the garden into Beth’s room just in case Beth brought her friend home.

‘Come in, Maggie,’ she said when the girl hovered in the kitchen doorway. ‘Any friend of Beth’s is welcome – and I want you to stay for as long as you like.’

‘Thank you so much; it’s very kind of you to have me,’ Maggie said, then, ‘I’m not sure what to call you?’

‘Just call me Aunt Helen as Beth does,’ she smiled. ‘You look pale and cold – go closer to the fire and warm yourself through.’

Beth gave her a grateful look. Aunt Helen nodded her head but didn’t say anything more, leaving Beth to see about supper while she poured from the large brown pot of tea brewing on the table.

‘I shall leave you two girls to eat and clear up,’ she said after she’d drunk a cup of tea with them. ‘I’m off to see a customer this evening and I’ll expect you two to be in bed by the time I get back…’

‘Will you be late, Aunt? Shall I leave the door on the latch?’ Beth asked.

‘No, I’ll take a front door key with me,’ her aunt said. ‘I know I can trust you to do all your chores, Beth.’

She nodded to Maggie and went off to change her clothes. A little later, they heard the front door shut after her.

‘I have some baking to do,’ Beth said when they’d finished eating. ‘Can I leave washing up the supper things to you?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Maggie agreed. ‘I’m glad to have something to do. You must tell me what else needs to be done…’

‘There is a carpet sweeper under the stairs,’ Beth said. ‘You just push it and it picks up the bits of cotton in Aunt Helen’s room – but watch out for her needles. They are expensive and she grumbles if I break them…’

‘I’ll make sure I pick up anything as I see it,’ Maggie promised. She went to the cupboard in the hall and got the sweeper out and a few minutes later Beth heard her pushing the little machine back and forth.

Beth cooked the pie for the following day and made some jam tarts. She made more than usual to allow for a third person in the house and then washed the pans she’d used. By the time Maggie returned, they were both ready to go up to bed.

Maggie looked exhausted, but it was more mental than physical because neither of them had been overworked. Beth decided not to say anything to her friend. Maggie had to get used to her new life and nothing Beth did or said could ease the worries that lodged at the back of her mind; she would just have to live with them until her mother was found and the case was closed…

Beth and Maggie had both been up early to prepare for work the next Monday morning and they had washed their breakfast plates before Aunt Helen rose and came downstairs.

‘The kettle is boiling,’ Maggie told her. ‘I’ve got time to make a pot of tea for you before we leave, if you wish?’

‘Get off with you the pair of you,’ Aunt Helen said but smiled at her. ‘You don’t want to be late – and, Maggie, if you’re in charge of a counter now, they should pay you the same wage as Beth gets. You want to speak up for yourself.’

Beth looked at her as they left the house together and walked to the next street where they could catch a tram that would take them all the way to Oxford Street. It was quicker than the omnibus that Beth sometimes caught in the evenings so they would be in nice and early.

They were actually some of the first to arrive and Fred was just unlocking the staff entrance. He smiled at them and stopped to chat for a while, telling them he’d had a telegram from his son confirming that he was alive and well.

‘Jack is going to stay in America for a few weeks,’ he said happily, ‘and then he’ll work his passage home.’

‘It’s wonderful news,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’

The two girls left him to his work and went up to their department, arriving just as Sally came in.

She hesitated and then approached Maggie, kissing her cheek. ‘I heard about your father, Maggie, I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘I’m staying with Beth’s aunt for the moment,’ Maggie said, ‘and my uncle has taken charge of… everything…’

‘Well, I’m here if you need me,’ Sally smiled at them both. ‘You two are early this morning,’ she said. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Beth. You can tell me what you think of the new silver stock – is it as popular as the bangles Miss Harper bought?’

‘It depends on the customer,’ Beth replied honestly. ‘I think the older, smarter women prefer the new stock, but some of the younger women like the Mexican silver best.’

‘Yes, that makes sense to me – the Mexican bangles were thicker and looked more for your money, but the new ones are finer and the stones are beautifully cut.’ She nodded thoughtfully. ‘I bought some different lines from a new supplier yesterday. Some of the bangles have pink or green enamelling and I’m trying a gate-link bracelet in gold. I’ve only bought half a dozen rose-gold bracelets, but they’re rather lovely.’

‘Do you think we shall sell gold here?’ Beth asked, frowning. ‘Might it not be a step too far for our customers?’

‘Perhaps – that’s why I’ve only bought a few to try. I got a good deal on the whole package, but I’m not going to sell them cheaply. People will think they’re not real gold if I do that, so I’ll put the full price on them and see what happens.’

She crossed over to the cabinet and checked the bags. Three of the most expensive skin bags were still there, though the department sold at least one good leather bag most days.

‘I think we’ll send the skin bags back to America next time Miss Harper visits,’ Sally said. ‘I don’t think these three will ever sell…’

‘I almost sold one the other day,’ Beth said. ‘The customer really wanted it but she couldn’t afford it. She asked if she could leave a deposit and pay so much a week, but I told her we were not allowed to do that, so she said she would come back for it sometime.’

‘Well, it’s likely to be a while before Miss Harper returns, so she’ll get her chance.’ Sally smiled at them. ‘They look wonderful on display, but I shall stick to medium-priced leather bags as the bulk of the stock.’

‘We have a steady turnover of those,’ Beth agreed and looked at her with interest. ‘Do you enjoy your new job, Miss Ross?’

‘You can still call me Sally when we’re alone; I shan’t charge you sixpence to know me,’ Sally said with a cheeky grin. ‘Yes, I do enjoy my job, Beth, the women’s clothing and this department is special to me.’

Beth nodded. ‘Have you found your new flat yet?’

‘Unfortunately not…’ Sally shook her head. ‘Mrs Craven and I are viewing one this evening. It has three bedrooms, a kitchen, a sitting room and a bathroom. The first one we saw was much bigger, but they let it to a family rather than two women alone – thought we might not be able to pay the rent.’ She sighed. ‘I have a meeting with Mr Marco in five minutes, so I’d better go…’

‘I spoke to him yesterday,’ Beth said. ‘He came up to the department to look at our stock, asked us what we thought we would like to see in one of his windows and he asked for some of the new hats, which he thought were attractive…’ She smiled. ‘He said if we had anything we were stuck with, he could use it and then write it off as shop soiled to help us out… Maggie and I were laughing and even Mrs Craven smiled…’

‘Yes, he can be quite a character,’ Sally agreed. ‘But he has a point there because I know some of the window display stock does get damaged. So far, anything like that has been marked up cheaply and offered to staff… which seems to please everyone.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know that; I’ll look out for a bargain…’ Beth quipped as Sally prepared to leave the department.

She went to her counter and began to lightly smooth a felt hat with a soft brush. Hats that were left out on stands didn’t get dusty because she covered them with silk every evening, but customers often tried the hats on and they did sometimes leave fingermarks that needed to be smoothed out on the felts.

Sally spoke to Maggie for a few moments and then Mrs Craven arrived and she had a word with her before leaving.

‘You two are in nice and early,’ Mrs Craven said, smiling at them as she removed her hat and gloves. ‘I spoke to Sally about another junior to be shared amongst the departments for when staff are off sick or on holiday. She offered to have a word with Mr Stockbridge for us. I should like a girl I could train myself – the girl Miss Hart sent us when Maggie was away was not suitable for our department.’

Miss Hart visited every department each day. As the floor supervisor, or floor walker as was the official term for her post, it was her business to see that every counter was staffed, stock in place and any problems reported to her. However, because of her attitude towards her staff, Mrs Craven preferred to ask Sally to have a word. As the buyer for the department, her opinion would be listened to.

‘Aunt Helen thinks that Miss Gibbs should be paid more now that she is working as a counter assistant,’ Beth said. ‘I agree, but she will never speak up for herself…’

Mrs Craven nodded and smiled. ‘And that is why I spoke to Sally about it. I do not think there is any point in asking Miss Hart about a wage rise for a member of staff…’

Beth nodded her agreement. She took some of the velvet trays out and brushed them, rearranging the silver items attractively before placing them back in the counter and then the first customer of the day walked in, making straight for Beth’s counter.