Love and Marriage at Harpers, page 1
Love & Marriage at Harper’s
Rosie Clarke
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
More from Rosie Clarke
About the Author
About Boldwood Books
1
‘Have you heard the stunning news?’ Rachel Craven asked Sally Ross when she entered the kitchen of the apartment they shared with Maggie Gibbs and Beth Grey on the morning of 21 February 1913. All of them were employed at Harper’s, the new department store in Oxford Street, and the arrangement to share a flat had worked out well for the four friends who had met when applying for posts at the prestigious store.
Sally took off her coat and flung it over the back of a chair.
‘I don’t believe I would have the courage to do what Emmeline Pankhurst did…’ Rachel went on as she turned down the gas under the saucepan she was tending.
On 19 February, Emmeline Pankhurst – and some unnamed accomplices – had blown up a villa being built for Lloyd George near Walton Heath Golf Club and the papers were filled with the atrocity and up in arms at the way the suffragettes had become so militant. The story had knocked the news of Captain Scott’s failure to reach the North Pole off the front page.
‘I’m not sure I’d want to.’ Sally flicked her pale blonde hair back from her eyes. The wind had blown it all over the place, because it was longer than usual. ‘It was brave, of course, because she could easily have blown herself up instead of Lloyd George’s new villa – but what does it achieve? She will go to prison and I don’t believe she has advanced the Women’s Movement one inch. In fact, she will have a lot of influential men thinking we’re a bunch of lunatics… and if she’d been a few minutes later, innocent workmen would have died.’
Rachel agreed with Sally, though her loyalty to the leader of their movement made her reluctant to give voice to her opinion, even though Emmeline had become too militant of late. They had both joined the Movement for Women’s Rights the previous year and often attended meetings. Lately, however, some of the speakers had been too fiery and were often booed by men who came just to disrupt the proceedings. Sally had gone on to the stage at one point at a recent gathering and told the listeners that she thought they should have non-violent protests and march to Downing Street and the palace with their banners, but she drew the line at using bombs. She had been shouted down by some of the more vociferous members.
‘I think the Women’s Social and Political Union is going too far, Rachel, and I shall not attend their meetings again – only those of the less militant branch, the Women’s Rights Movement, which is what we all thought we were part of when we joined…’
‘Yes, you’re right, of course you are. The Women’s Social and Political Union is far too militant for us and I shall not attend their meetings in future either.’ Rachel smiled at Sally approvingly as she deftly changed the subject, not wanting to get bogged down in politics. ‘I like the colour of your new blouse – what do they call that colour exactly?’
‘York tan – at least that’s what the salesman called it. I bought some stock for Harper’s fashion department and liked them so much when they arrived that I purchased one for myself…’
‘Very smart!’ Rachel turned back to the gas cooker where she had some potatoes boiling for the supper they would share with Beth and Maggie, when they arrived. ‘I bought some boiled ham for our tea to have with mashed potatoes and sliced carrots.’
‘I’m glad it’s your turn to cook supper and not mine.’ Sally sighed heavily.
‘Are you all right, Sally?’ Rachel asked, because the younger girl looked tired. ‘It was a bit much, Ben Harper and his sister Jenni making you the buyer for Harper’s without enough training, but now they’re both in America and that makes a lot of work and responsibility for you.’
Ben Harper, the owner of Harpers store in Oxford Street London, had been gone for more than five months and Rachel thought that was disgraceful. It seemed to her that he’d simply abandoned ship, leaving it to his managers and Sally to cope with the buying and running of the shop, which Rachel believed unfair.
‘Jenni Harper writes me long letters giving me advice and if I need anything urgently, I send her a telegram and she always helps.’ Sally shook her head dismissively. ‘When Jenni was last over just before Christmas, she told me that her brother is anxious to return but can’t at the moment.’
‘What sort of business could keep him from the store he professes to care about?’ Rachel muttered.
Sally shook her head. ‘Jenni said it was very important… But she approved everything we’re doing and says she doesn’t think Mr Harper could do better if he was here. Besides, we’ve taken on a new buyer for the men’s department and it seems to be doing better again…’ At first the men’s department had struggled, because the stock was not ideal for the British market but that had been adjusted after Sally’s advice had been sought and given.
‘It was Miss Harper’s idea to have the sale after Christmas, I suppose,’ Rachel said, frowning. ‘It made an awful lot of work for the staff and we really didn’t have a lot of damaged or unsaleable goods to get rid of.’
‘No, we’ve been lucky that our stock has a good turnover.’ Sally looked thoughtful. ‘I bought in a few seconds from some of our suppliers. Most of them only had a very small fault…’
Rachel hesitated, then, ‘I hope you won’t be offended, Sally, but I didn’t think that was such a good idea personally. Some of my ladies were a bit sniffy when I told them they were buying seconds.’
Sally nodded her agreement. ‘Jenni said it’s what they do in their stores in New York, but I think you’re right, Rachel; it doesn’t work with our customers. I don’t think I’ll do that again…’ She broke off as the door opened, letting in a cold blast from the hallway. Maggie had a red nose and Beth looked frozen as they hurried inside.
‘Oh, it’s warmer in here,’ Maggie, the youngest of them, exclaimed. ‘Sorry we’re late, Rachel. We went to buy some tinned fruit for afters and missed our bus so we had to wait twenty minutes for the next one.’
‘The wind goes straight through you out there,’ Beth said. She and Sally were both in their early twenties and Rachel was in her mid-thirties, a widow and supervisor for the hat, accessories, bags and jewellery departments. Beth was a senior salesgirl but Sally had risen swiftly to the position of buyer because Ben and Jenni Harper had taken a liking to her. ‘Are you two going to that suffragette meeting this evening? I intended to come, but I’m not sure I can face that bitter cold again…’
‘The meeting has been cancelled until further notice,’ Rachel told her. ‘Because of the arrest and coming trial of Emmeline Pankhurst, the sisters think that there will be agitators in the crowd. So we’re waiting until some of the fuss dies down… and both Sally and I have decided not to attend the WSPU meetings in future. What Emmeline did was just too much… too violent. Innocent men might have been hurt.’
‘Yes, I saw something in the paper…’ Maggie put in. ‘A man left his evening paper lying on the seat when he got off the bus so I brought it home. I haven’t read the whole article but it says she looked pale but calm as she was arrested. She pleaded guilty to the bombing and to other disturbances.’
‘They will put her in prison,’ Sally said. ‘I just don’t see the point of what she did – and I think it puts men who might agree with our cause, against us.’
‘I agree,’ Rachel said, ‘but you know that Emmeline thinks we have to do something drastic to make them listen to us, otherwise they will just go on ignoring us. I spoke to her a few weeks ago at one of our meetings because I wanted to know her opinion – and she is always open to all members, as you know. She said that even those who are not against us treat us like children or pets to be humoured. I asked her if she thought it worth the risk personally and she said she was willing to give her life if she had to… I admire and like her so much, but I fear she will lose support for both branches of the Movement if she goes on this way…’
Rachel looked at Beth, sending her a silent plea, because Sally was evidently angry and she wanted an end to politics. ‘Will you make the tea while I mash the potatoes? The carrots have butter on them already…’
‘Lovely, I’m hungry,’ Beth said and went to pour boiling water into the teapot. ‘I definitely want to join the Movement instead of just attending the meetings once they start again, Rachel, but not the WSPU…’
‘Yes, me too,’ Maggie agreed. ‘I think it is time women had equal rights with men. Why s houldn’t we? They’ve had it all their own way for too long…’ She looked angry, pink spots in her cheeks. ‘However, I agree with you and I do not want to see innocent people hurt…’
Rachel understood that some of the anger in the younger girl’s voice was because of her break-up with her boyfriend Ralf the previous autumn. After a big quarrel over Maggie’s visit to her dying and estranged mother, Ralf seemed to have disappeared from the picture. Yet it was ironic that the trouble between them had been caused by Ralf’s mother, who had wanted to dominate the girl she thought would be a docile bride for her son. Maggie had a mind of her own and she had not put up with Ralf’s mother’s interference for long. Instead, she’d left her lodgings at his home and come to join her friends at the flat. Although Ralf had tried to apologise, Maggie had refused to accept his remorse and told him she did not wish to see him, since then he’d stopped coming to the store where she worked and waiting for her outside when she left at night. However, she was still smarting from his refusal to take her side and her anger sometimes came out in other ways.
Rachel reflected on the changes in the young girl since she’d started to work at Harper’s. The death of her father and the suspicion that her mother might have had something to do with it had helped to turn her from the shy child she’d been to the determined young woman she now was, a woman quite capable of standing up for herself.
Maggie’s arrival at the apartment and then Beth’s after her aunt’s marriage, had made them a little crowded, for there were only two bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom and sitting room. Each bedroom had two single beds, but there wasn’t a lot of room for personal possessions. Their efforts to find a larger flat had been unsuccessful for the reason that landlords preferred married couples or families and tended not to trust women living together.
Fortunately, they had the use of a shed in the yard at the back in which Rachel had stored some things that she’d kept from the home she’d enjoyed before her husband had died so painfully and bitterly. His illness had gradually become worse over several months, causing her much grief and distress until his death and after. It was just some boxes of mementoes she was reluctant to throw out and a few bits of furniture.
‘I saw an advertisement for a larger flat today,’ Sally said as they all sat down to eat. ‘I think we might just have afforded it between us, but when I rang from the office they said it had gone…’
‘Do you think it really had?’ Rachel asked. It had taken time to find a landlord who would let to them in the first place and Sally was pretty sure they’d got their present flat because Mr Harper had stood guarantor for them and it was situated just round the corner from Harper’s in Berwick Street, making it easy to walk into work on fine days.
‘I’m not sure,’ Sally replied and made a wry face. ‘I think next time I’ll lie and say I want it for my husband and myself…’
‘Your non-existent husband would have to sign,’ Rachel said with a sigh. ‘That’s why we have to get recognition that women are more than just their husband’s belongings…’
‘I’ll go on a march for women’s rights,’ Maggie said. ‘I won’t throw bombs or anything, but I’ll hold a banner and shout slogans.’
‘I think that would be enough to get you arrested at the moment,’ Sally cautioned. ‘The police will be hard on us all if we give them the chance – that’s why I think Emmeline was misguided…’ The others nodded, because it wasn’t easy being a woman in these troubled times but they were all determined to do what they could to make the situation better for women as a whole.
2
Sally lay in bed reading the latest letter from Jenni Harper. She’d retired early, leaving the others talking and laughing in the sitting room, because she had been feeling down all day. For weeks she’d expected the owner of Harper’s to return; she’d been certain he would be back in London to see the wonderful Christmas windows that she and Mr Marco had planned together. There was a themed snow scene, showing mountains in the background and snowmen, with children playing in the foreground, and in another window, Christmas trees, parcels and a huge cardboard Christmas cake with a table laden with imitation food. Unfortunately, they didn’t sell either cosmetics or toys at Harper’s yet and Sally felt they had missed the Christmas trade that might have brought in. However, the crowds had been three deep for days because of Mr Marco’s magical displays, but Mr Harper hadn’t been there to see it and he hadn’t written to her for weeks, leaving his sister Jenni to keep the avenues of communication open. Something that made Sally wonder at his neglect, because she’d understood the store was all-important to him.
It was strange, just as Rachel had suggested. What kind of business could keep Mr Ben Harper from London and the store he’d seemed so keen on. Had he tired of it already? Was he the kind of man who liked to start things and then sell them and move on? She knew it was what was being whispered in the various departments. After all, he was an American, and even a few months of steady trading were probably enough for him to sell at a good price… but surely he wouldn’t? She couldn’t bring herself to believe that he would let everyone down that way. There must be a valid reason why he hadn’t returned to London as he’d planned, surely?
Sally enjoyed her job as buyer for the fashion, jewellery and bag department at Harper’s, and she’d discussed bringing in cosmetics and a small toy department with Jenni, but at times it made her feel lonely. Being in an office wasn’t the same as being on the shop floor working with Maggie and Beth and the days she didn’t meet buyers sometimes seemed long when she was concentrating on her sales sheets. She’d felt like one of the girls when she worked in Rachel’s department, but now she often only spoke to the others at night when they came home.
It wasn’t really her job that was getting her down though, because she loved every minute. In her heart, she knew it was because Mr Harper hadn’t been in touch. Before he’d left for America, Sally had been drawn to her employer, fascinated by his dynamic personality, even though she knew it was foolish. He’d seemed to show an interest in her at times, but at others he’d seemed indifferent and she knew it might be better for her if he never returned. If the shop was sold, her experience at Harper’s should help her to get a good job somewhere. However, she didn’t think many places would give her the opportunity to buy for the store, as Jenni and Ben Harper had.
Sometimes, Sally wished she was back on the shop floor with her friends, but that was daft. She earned more than she ever had in her life and Jenni said she would get a raise soon. The profits for the store had been good – though Sally wasn’t sure about the January sale results. Some of the seconds had just stayed on the shelf and she didn’t know what to do with them. For her that was a bad decision and she saw the small margin of profit on the sales as being a failure. Yet even that was not responsible for her black mood.
Sally pounded her pillow in sudden anger. She wasn’t going to be upset over her employer. No man was worth it! She forced herself to think positively. She had a couple of days off next month and it was time she did something for herself – maybe she would go and visit some friends… it was a while since she’d seen her friend, Sylvia, and she’d seen nothing of Mick, the manager of the pub near the hostel where she’d lived before moving into the flat with Rachel. He’d waited outside the store one evening before Christmas to give her a card and a box of special chocolates and wished her Happy Christmas. Although she’d sent him a card, Sally hadn’t bought a gift. And, as she’d been going out that evening with Beth, when Mick asked if she had time for a meal or a drink, she’d had to refuse him. Afterwards, she realised she hadn’t explained why and wished she’d told him it was just a girls’ night out at the music hall, because she thought he might have taken her refusal the wrong way. He probably thought she was courting strong, which was far from the truth. Mick was a friend, a bit like the brother she’d never had; she enjoyed his company and she wouldn’t like to hurt his feelings, so perhaps she should get in touch.
