Leaving Harry with Annie, Violet and Kath, along with a handful of women looking for work who had been standing the ever increasing bread line, arrived at the new shop in Birmingham. Jim had driven them to the town in the carriage, and after seeking out James Cooke and paying him the fifty pounds Spencer had entrusted to him, Jim made his way to the shop. Spencer had instructed the signwriter to hang the new name over the door – ‘Violet’s Luxuries’.
Opening the shop doors, the women set about cleaning the place from top to bottom. Scrubbing the existing fixtures and fittings allowed them to save money rather than buying new. A coat of whitewash would give the place a whole new look. With the sun shining in through the doors and windows they could now envisage how to display their products to their best advantage. Pots and boxes were set out with a till behind the counter for the money taken from the sales.
Annie had already selected two women to be in charge of the sales… women she’d known since a girl; trustworthy and hard-working. They lived nearby and so could be at the shop early to open up.
Jim, besides overseeing the making of the boxes, employed a couple of men from the ‘bread line’ to transport the goods to the shop. He would also take the saleswomen’s wages and bring back the takings.
The ‘Wives’ had engaged Isaac Aston, an accountant from Wood Green in Wednesbury to keep their books. With so many now in their employ, money coming in and going out became difficult to keep track of.
The shop was ready in next to no time and, on the opening day, Violet travelled over to Birmingham with Jim Forbes, to spend the day there; Jim would collect her at closing time.
It was a busy first day, with women coming and going and the products selling quickly. Stacking new jars in the late afternoon, Violet turned as the shop door opened. Standing in the doorway was the man who had originally bought her boxes for his salon.
He had heard talk in the town of a new shop opening and had taken himself off to have a look. He wanted to know what would be on sale there and whether it might rival his own business.
‘Decided to go into business for yourself then I see!’ he said scornfully as he stepped forward.
‘You see correctly.’ Violet said, spreading her arms to encompass the room.
‘Well, I think it’s a bloody cheek!’ he snapped.
‘And why would that be?’ she asked.
‘You sold me your trinkets, then when I ask for more… you do this!’ Sweeping his arm out, he knocked a few pots from the counter to the floor which Violet felt was a deliberate act on his part.
One of the saleswomen went into the back room to fetch a broom to clean up the mess of broken jars that lay at Violet’s feet.
Anger rising she glared at him, ‘Mr…?’
‘Potter!’ he said confidently, returning her stare.
‘Mr Potter, I would thank you not to come into my shop destroying my property!’
‘Property…’ he jeered, ‘you won’t stay in business long, lady… you can be sure of it!’ With that another pot crashed to the floor as his arm swept out again. This time there was no question it was done deliberately.
‘Are you threatening me, Mr Potter?’ Violet asked full of fury.
‘Women shouldn’t be in business! You should be at home looking after your brats!’
‘How dare you!’ She took a step forward, but the woman cleaning up the broken jars put an arm across her front preventing her from going further.
‘What I do, Mr Potter, has nothing whatsoever to do with you!’
‘Oh but it does when you be tekin’ my custom!’ His slip into the vernacular revealed his roots as surely as if he wore a flat cap.
‘I am taking nothing from you, Mr Potter. These products belong to me and I think you should be grateful I allowed you to sell them in the first place!’ Violet said, trying to compose herself once more. ‘Where women choose to shop is up to them. Obviously they prefer my shop to yours!’ Smoothing her hands down her skirt, she pushed her nose in the air.
Stepping forward with hand raised ready to strike, he stopped as Jim Forbes stepped in the door saying, ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mister.’
Breath she didn’t realise she was holding escaped Violet’s lips as her heart pounded. The man had been about to hit her…! The realisation sent shivers of fear coursing through her body.
‘This be between me an’ the wench,’ said Potter, no longer trying to maintain his affected speech, ‘so you stay out of it if you know what’s good for you.’
Jim strode towards the man, who stepped back a pace. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you won’t take on one of the ‘Wives’ or their husbands!’ Jim’s voice was no more than a menacing whisper.
‘Hah!’ said Potter, stepping around Jim but continuing to face him. ‘That don’t frighten me…’ Clearly it did, as he edged his way towards the door.
Jim cut him off and, as he neared Potter, he leaned his face close to the other man, saying quietly, ‘Well it should!’
Potter backed out of the door with a sneer on his face. Turning on his heel, he marched away.
Jim, assuring himself the ladies were unhurt, waited while the shop was locked. On their own way home, he said, ‘It’s a good job I was there today; no telling what that bugger might have done.’
‘Thank you Jim,’ Violet said, still feeling very much shaken, ‘you arrived at just the right time.’
‘It’s not safe for you ladies there, Violet.’ Jim’s face showed concern.
‘Oh I don’t think Mr Potter will be back, Jim,’ she said, feeling very little confidence in her statement.
‘Still an’ all…’
No further words were spoken until Jim steered the carriage into the entrance to Gittins Manor, ‘Here we are, you are safe home now.’
Thanking him, Violet went into the house, shaking again as she saw Potter’s sneer in her mind’s eye once more. Although there were three of them at the shop today, in future there would be only two defenceless women. Fear filled her as she thought of what could happen if Potter returned. Had they done the right thing opening the shop? Should they have stayed in Wednesbury? Violet decided to discuss it with her mother and the ‘Wives’ the following day.
She heard the clatter of hooves on the gravel heralding Spencer’s return from the factory as she was about to collect their son from Annie’s care.
Rushing to her, Spencer said breathlessly, ‘Violet! Are you all right? Jim told me what happened today at the shop!’
Jim must have gone straight from her to Spencer at his factory to tell him all about it. A quick thought flashed through Violet’s mind that it wasn’t only the Wives who were in cahoots, but that maybe the husbands had their own clan too.
‘Yes, yes…’ Violet assured him, ‘but it did shake me up.’
‘Dear God, Violet!’ he said, holding her so tight she could barely breathe.
Pulling away slightly, Violet managed, ‘It’s all right Spencer, no one was hurt.’
*
It was around lunchtime a couple of days later when Jim came bursting into Joshua Gittins’ kitchen where the business of making ‘Annie’s Hair Wash’ was bustling.
‘Violet!’ he gasped. ‘Oh Violet wench!’
Mary pushed a cup of tea in front of him, saying, ‘Bloody hell, Jim, you sit yourself down before you have a heart attack!’
Waving a dismissive hand at Mary, he looked at Violet, saying, ‘It’s the shop, Violet! The windows and most of the jars are smashed and… everything is broken!’
‘What! How do you know?’ Violet dropped into the nearest chair, her hands flying to her chest. She felt the colour drain from her face.
‘I was taking the wages over and when I got there… My guess is it’s Potter!’ Jim said, only now taking up his teacup.
‘Oh Christ!’ Martha said, coming to Violet and laying a hand on her shoulder.
‘We can’t say that for sure,’ Violet said, although she suspected Jim was right.
Having discussed the events of the previous incident with the ‘Wives’, all were aware of the despicable Mr Potter.
‘It’s a safe bet, if you ask me…’ muttered Mary, setting the kettle to boil once more.
‘Maybe so,’ Violet said, ‘but we can’t accuse him without proof!’
‘Then we’ll bloody well get proof!’ Kath said.
‘How?’ Violet asked, still feeling the shock waves roll over her.
Martha answered with, ‘This needs a deal o’ thinkin’ on.’ This time no one laughed, they were all too stunned to show any mirth.
Eventually it was decided that Martha and Kath should go into Birmingham immediately and ask a few discreet questions about the destruction of the shop; one of Jim’s workers was summoned and drove them in the carriage.
Arriving in Birmingham a little later, the carriage waited along the street, and they went into the ‘fancy’ salon with spurious intentions of buying something. They asked the girl behind the counter about the damage at the shop on the corner of Cannon street.
Overhearing the conversation, the curious Mr Potter had scuttled over and intervened, saying, ‘Serves them right if you ask me.’
Martha asked, ‘Why is that then?’
‘Women don’t have no place in business!’ he said implacably.
Kath said quietly, ‘I agree, sir, our place should be home looking after the babies.’
‘Most definitely!’ Potter saw his chance, ‘The woman who opened the shop had no idea what she was doing. Trying to sell muck in cheap jars… well, I ask you… would you buy it?’
‘I don’t have the money to spend on such things,’ Kath said, lulling him into a false sense of security, ‘but who on earth would do that to the shop… and why?’ Feigning ignorance and stupidity, she waited as she replaced a small vase she’d been looking at back on the counter.
‘Well now,’ said Potter, conspiratorially leaning in towards Kath and Martha, ‘the “why” would be to put the woman out of business of course, and the “who”…’ He let the sentence hang mid-air. Leaning back, he puffed out his chest.
‘You don’t mean…?’ Martha asked in pretend shock.
Nodding his head, an evil grin spread across his face and he said, hunching his shoulders and spreading out his hands, ‘That’s business!’
*
‘He said what?’ Annie asked in pure disbelief after hearing what had occurred when the others returned from the town.
‘Ar but…’ Martha took up, ‘that wasn’t actually a confession. He didn’t say it was him who did it.’
‘Martha’s right,’ Kath added, ‘so how do we find out for sure he’s responsible?’
‘Well,’ Annie said, ‘Violet asked Jim to get the glassworks to replace the windows and he’s asking questions round and about. He’s also finding a couple of men to stay in the shop overnight until we sort this problem out.’
‘Good idea,’ Kath breathed a sigh of relief, ‘our profits can run to a couple of nightwatchmen’s wages.’ She looked at Violet who nodded in agreement.
It had been less than a week when the two night watchmen on guard at the shop reported to Jim about another attempted break in.
Jim had just returned from taking the men’s wages and as he sat in the kitchen with the women, he related what the watchmen had told him.
Sitting quietly in the back room of the shop, the watchmen had been having their supper of cheese sandwiches when they heard the rattling of the front door handle. The door was locked, as usual, so the burglars had decided to try the door at the rear of the shop.
The guards, guessing the intention, quietly moved through the shop and slid back the bolt of the back door which would allow the burglars to enter without causing damage. After dousing the oil lamp, they had then hidden themselves in the shadows.
Jim watched the women’s faces as he continued.
The back door had handle turned and the burglars’ chuckles were heard, then the door was carefully pushed open. Two of them had stepped into the back room of the shop.
The watchmen jumped out from where they hid in the shadows and pushing the would-be burglars into the yard outside had ‘pasted them both good and proper’.
The burglars had been persuaded to give up the name of the person who had paid them to steal the goods and wreck the shop a second time, the name they revealed was… Mr Potter!
‘I guessed as much,’ Violet said amid the gasps coming from around the kitchen table, ‘now we have to decide what to do about it.’
Everyone then set to and hatched a plan to visit the said Mr Potter to, at the very least, ruin his day.
Annie, being busy with Harry and overseeing the making of the products, decided to stay behind; so it was that Martha, Kath, Mary, Joyce and Violet who took another trip into Birmingham, driven in Spencer’s coach by Jim.
Mr Potter paled visibly as he saw the women enter his salon. He disappeared into a back room and they all marched across the shop after him.
‘So, Mr Potter we meet again,’ Violet said, looking him squarely in the eye, after throwing the door open wide.
‘What you lot want? This is a private office. You shouldn’t be in here!’ He sat behind a desk where he considered himself safe from their wrath.
‘The same as you shouldn’t have had men in our shop the other night!’ Violet boomed.
‘I have no idea what you are referring to,’ he replied confidently.
‘Potter,’ spat Joyce, ‘the men gave you up! We know it was you who paid them to wreck our shop!’
His bravado melted away as he blustered, ‘Then they are lying through their back teeth!’
Violet placed her hands flat on the desk, causing the man to lean back in his chair, before saying with quiet menace, ‘Mr Potter, we now know for certain it was you who instigated the breaking of the windows and merchandise at our shop. The men responsible for doing your bidding have paid a heavy price for what they did – in fact…’ She leaned in further, ‘let’s just say it will be quite a while before they’ll be doing work of any sort.’ Pausing, Violet watched the words sink in before resuming. ‘Oh pardon my rudeness, let me introduce ourselves… we are the Wednesbury Wives!’
They watched him blanch as he absorbed the information then Violet spoke again. ‘We did consider taking this to the police. However they would probably put it down to kids misbehaving, so I doubt they’d do anything about it, whereas we…’ she spread her arm to encompass her friends ‘… well, I think you get the point. Now then, Mr Potter, just so you know, if anything… anything at all should happen to our shop again… we’ll be coming for you!’ She thrust a finger in his direction. ‘Remember Mr Potter… if anything should happen… anything at all!’
They turned as one and left the room. Heads held high, they walked from the shop, leaving the open-mouthed shop girls in their wake. The door having been left open when they entered the office, the sales girls had heard every word; they had tried in vain to hide their smiles.
On their return to Gittins Lodge, Joyce said, ‘Oooh Annie, you would have laughed your socks off if you had seen his face.’
‘I’d be surprised if we hear anything more from Mr Potter again,’ Violet said.
Little did she know those words would come back to haunt her.