The Sea Shell Girl (17 page)

‘Well, hello there, you're late today,' said Chester, coming into the room closely followed by Teddy and Nicholas.

‘Old Smelly kept us behind,' Freckles groaned. ‘She's really got it in for Merry. Do you know …' Her voice trailed off as Prunella peered around the door.

‘Hurry up, Mrs Rose is waiting to inspect us and give us a lesson in how we should address clients.'

‘I'd like to give her a lesson in addressing the truth,' Merry said getting to her feet.

‘And give Smelly one in nepo … nepa … oh, what's it called when you try and use your influence to curry favour for one of your own family?'

‘Nepotism,' Nicholas said. ‘You must tell us all about it at supper. Meantime, we chaps will try and come up with something,' he added, winking at Teddy.

‘Why are you smiling?' Freckles asked as they hurried along the corridor. ‘I thought you'd be hopping mad about old Smelly and her niece.'

‘I am, but what you said about currying favour has given me an idea,' she whispered as Mrs Rose stood in the doorway glaring at them.

‘Hands out,' she ordered as soon as they'd lined up inside the room. ‘I trust you have washed those, Miss Brice?'

‘Of course, Mrs Rose,' she said. ‘First thing this morning,' she added under her breath.

‘Yours are as beautiful as ever, Miss Prim,' Mrs Rose said, smiling at Prunella. ‘Whilst yours, Miss Dyer, are a great improvement,' she grudgingly admitted. ‘Now, we need to address the way in which you are speaking to our clients. From now on, you are to say, “Good morning, madam. My name is Miss Prim, Brice or Dyer –” obviously you will use whichever is appropriate – “how may I be of service?” '

‘Blimey oh rimey, that's a mouthful and no mistake. The client will probably be back outside before we get that lot out,' Freckles giggled.

‘Your job is to entice them to stay and buy,' the supervisor sniffed. ‘And one must remember the client is always right.'

‘What, even if she asks for something that doesn't suit her?' Merry asked.

‘Well, one should be diplomatic, of course. A little white lie can hide a multitude of sins, Miss Dyer.'

‘Or even a green lie,' Freckles said pointedly.

‘I hardly think the colour relevant, Miss Brice,' Mrs Rose said, missing the point. ‘It is the principle of the matter. To spare someone's feelings …'

‘What, like your lie this morning, Mrs Rose?' Merry couldn't help asking.

The woman turned red. ‘I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Miss Dyer,' she spluttered.

‘I think you do,' Merry replied. As the woman turned puce, Freckles jumped in.

‘You know, Mrs Rose, there are so many different colours in the ribbon and accessory cupboards I've never seen before. In order to provide this good customer
service, don't you think you should teach us all their names?'

Mrs Rose waved her hand as though swatting away a troublesome fly. ‘We have more important things to address, like acting with decorum. The store should be an oasis of calm for our clients to browse. Now it is time you were back at your stations,' the supervisor said quickly.

When they returned to the shop floor, however, it was anything but calm for Mrs Smale was standing on a chair waving her arms in the air.

‘Get that thing out of here, get it away from me,' she screamed. They stared at the usually dignified manageress in amazement.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Smale?' Prunella ventured.

‘No I am not, you silly girl. Do you think I'm up here for the good of my health? There's a dangerous green thing hopping around all over place. For goodness' sake, get one of the male assistants to capture it.'

As if on cue, Chester popped his head around the door.

‘I heard a scream, is everything all right in here, Mrs Smale?' he asked solicitously, before turning and winking at Merry and Freckles.

‘Get rid of that thing immediately,' the woman gasped.

‘What thing would that be?' Chester asked.

‘The green thing that's been following me all round the room,' she gasped.

‘What, you mean that shiny green, helpless little frog?' Chester asked, kneeling down on the floor. Merry and Freckles exchanged a look. A frog?

‘Yes, boy, get it out of here.'

‘I'll do my best, Mrs Smell, I mean Smale,' he said, but
the woman was so agitated she didn't notice his intentional play on her name.

‘Come along, little frog,' he cooed. ‘Oh dear, look it's gone and jumped over there.' They all looked where Chester was pointing but couldn't see anything. ‘Stay still, little man, and let Chester take you outside where all good little frogs belong.'

‘Must you speak in that silly voice?' the manageress snapped.

‘Indeed, it's the only way to catch them quickly,' he assured her. ‘Now, froggy-woggy, come here. Can't you see you're upsetting the lady?' As Chester crawled around the room on his hands and knees, Merry and Freckles shook with laughter. It was obvious he was tormenting the manageress by taking his time. It was only when Mr Jenkins appeared that he finally pounced and scooped the frog up.

‘There, all safe now,' Chester said, holding his hands up to Mrs Smale, who recoiled so quickly she nearly toppled from the chair.

‘Please get that thing out of here at once,' she gasped.

‘I'll just take this little fellow out to the yard, Mr Jenkins, then I'll be back on the shop floor,' he announced.

‘Be quick about it, Hall. Allow me to help you, Mrs Smale,' Mr Jenkins said, holding out his hand.

‘Thank you, Mr Jenkins,' she said, clambering down, just as the first customer of the afternoon pushed her way through the door. ‘To your stations, ladies,' she ordered, patting her hair and smoothing down the skirts of her dress. ‘I am in dire need of my smelling salts so please take over, Mrs Rose.'

‘Wonder where it came from?' Merry said.

‘How it got in here, more like,' Freckles grinned.

‘Poor Mrs Smale,' Prunella commented. ‘She looks quite shaken.'

‘I wouldn't waste your sympathy on that old crone,' Freckles commented. ‘After the way she treated Merry this morning, she deserves all she gets.'

Mrs Smale didn't return to the floor and in her absence Mrs Rose seemed to flounder, but luckily there were only a handful of clients that afternoon.

By early evening the store was quiet, and the trainees had just begun tidying away when a woman of middle years entered the store. She looked around for a moment before making a beeline for Mrs Rose. The supervisor seemed to freeze and when she didn't say anything, Merry stepped forward.

‘Good evening, madam,' she said. ‘My name is Miss Dyer. How may I be of service?'

‘Goodness me, do you have to say all that to everyone who comes in?' the woman exclaimed.

‘It's what our manageress has decreed,' Mrs Rose said, finding her voice at last.

‘Hmm. Well, as you asked so nicely, please can you show me your ready-made undergarments?' the woman said, addressing Merry.

‘Yes of course, madam,' Merry replied, looking to Mrs Rose for direction, but the woman had turned scarlet and was looking down at the floor. ‘Please follow me, madam,' she said, leading the client over to the cupboard in the far corner.

‘I will attend to madam,' Mrs Rose squeaked, finally finding her voice. ‘You will shadow me, Miss Dyer.'

The client raised her brows, then shrugged. ‘I am staying with my aunt and find myself short of bloomers,' she said. ‘She, of course, still wears those dreadful pull and tie corsets that suck the life out of you but I prefer something more comfortable.'

‘I'll show you what we have in stock,' the supervisor whispered.

‘You'll have to speak up, woman. I was struck down with a dreadful infection last winter. Confounded nuisance, it was, and it's left me partially deaf. Now I can only hear clear voices, like that young lady behind you has, so it would be better if she attends to me.'

‘As you wish, madam,' Mrs Rose said. ‘Miss Dyer, please will you show madam the bloomers we have in stock? Discreetly, of course,' she added, lowering her voice and staring around in case they were being watched. Merry nodded and pulled open the heavy door to the cupboard. Quickly she assessed the woman for likely sizing, then unwrapped various packets and placed a few pairs on the counter for her to inspect.

‘Please direct madam to the dressing room, Miss Dyer. You simply cannot display them here for all to see,' Mrs Rose spluttered.

Merry looked around the empty store.

‘What is she saying?' the client asked.

‘Mrs Rose thinks it would be more discreet to go to the dressing room.'

‘Piffle,' the woman scoffed. ‘Please tell her we are now in the eighteen eighties, a time of greater enlightenment. Really, I can't be doing with a draper's store assistant being so prudish. Now let me have a look at these.' The
woman sorted through the underclothes then held a pair to the light to inspect them further. Behind her Mrs Rose give a strangled gasp and Merry had to turn back to the cupboard to hide her smile. She'd never seen some of the garments before and was just trying to make out what some of them could be for when the client spoke.

‘I think these will suit perfectly, thank you.' Merry spun round to find the woman consulting the labels. ‘I've heard that this Harracks brand is very good so I'll take two pairs please.'

‘Certainly, madam. I wrap them for you straight away,' Merry said.

‘I expect you would like them on approbation, madam?' Mrs Rose enquired.

‘No, I would like them on my posterior,' the woman hooted.

Merry felt her lips twitching. How lovely to serve a woman with a sense of humour.

‘Quite. I'll leave you with Miss Dyer,' Mrs Rose squeaked, before scuttling to the other side of the room.

The woman watched then shook her head. ‘You wouldn't think we all wear these, would you, my dear?'

Merry smiled politely as she gently smoothed out the silky garments. If only she had the chance to wear such finery, she thought.

‘Here you are, madam. I hope you find them comfortable. May I wish you a good evening and hope we will see you in our store again soon,' she said, handing the woman her parcel.

‘Thank you, my dear,' she smiled at Merry. ‘I am sure you will.'

‘Blimey oh rimey, what a day,' Freckles muttered as they took their seats in the staff-room that evening. ‘You should have seen old Rose's face when you thanked that woman for her custom and said you hoped she'd find her purchases comfortable. She scuttled over and shut that cupboard as if she was afraid all the undergarments would jump out and do a jig around the shop.'

‘I know. It's ridiculous the way she talks about underthings in hushed tones. The client thought her quite old-fashioned,' Merry agreed.

‘Mother always says such things should never be discussed in public,' Prunella said. Freckles raised her brows at Merry, then smiled as the boys clattered into the room. ‘And certainly never in front of a male,' Prunella added.

‘Well, hello there,' Chester greeted them. ‘How was your afternoon? Did Smelly recover from her shock?'

‘I really don't think you should refer to Mrs Smale like that. She is our manageress, after all,' Prunella said.

‘I agree; a little respect goes a long way,' Nicholas agreed, smiling at her over the table.

‘Well, she was hopping mad earlier, wasn't she?' Chester hooted.

‘I wonder where that frog came from,' Freckles said, staring straight at him.

‘I wonder,' he said, tapping the side of his nose. ‘Especially one that hopped all round her like that.'

‘Did you release it out in the yard?' Merry asked.

‘Let's just say it's back where it belongs,' he chuckled.

‘Let's hope it stays there,' Prunella said, shuddering.

‘Oh, it will,' Joanie said, coming into the room with a
pot of tea. ‘Unless Mr Jenkins decides to check your work clothes, Master Hall.'

‘I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Joanie,' he said, pretending to look hurt.

‘Well, that green head poking out of your back pocket is a bit of a giveaway,' she chuckled. ‘I'll go and get your supper.'

‘You'd better come clean, Chester,' Freckles demanded.

Grinning, he put his hand in his pocket and drew out a toy frog. ‘Thought my little friend here might come in useful one day.'

‘But that's a tin model and Mrs Smale said it was jumping all round the room,' Merry pointed out.

‘Oh, I get it, you were just pretending to chase after it, weren't you?' Freckles cried. ‘And that soppy voice you were using. “Here froggy-woggy” – oh, that was priceless.'

‘Well, the old bat needed teaching a lesson for picking on Merry like that,' he said, staring intently at her.