Joanna Toye - Heartache for the Shop Girls

Jim knew his mother felt she’d been dealt a rotten hand in life. Now it seemed to have turned into a winning one, because if she didn’t make a good recovery – and who knew? – he’d surely have no option but to come back to Bidbury for good.

While Jim had been thinking, they’d continued their aimless circuit of the garden, Margaret brushing her hand against the tall spines of lavender and releasing their scent. Jim’s mother had claimed that Margaret held a torch for him – always had – and there was no doubt she’d make a wonderful wife for a farmer. She was milking her father’s herd by herself these days, butter-making, delivering the churns, delivering and looking after the calves, too – and she had other talents. She’d wanted to go to Art School, but that had been scotched by the war and she’d taken on her new role uncomplainingly. Jim liked her very much, admired her, even, and felt sorry for what she’d had to give up. All in all, Margaret was a thoroughly nice girl and, if things had been different, they might even one day have made a match. But things were different. He had Lily now.

When Lily got back to her department after dinner, Miss Frobisher was waiting for her. Lily instinctively looked at the clock but Miss Frobisher held up a reassuring hand.

‘You’re not late, don’t worry!’

‘Good! Did you want me for something, Miss Frobisher?’

‘Yes, I do. Not now, but on Monday. I want you to come with me to Ward and Keppler.’

Lily’s mouth made a fair imitation of her dinnertime fish being landed.

Ward and Keppler were big manufacturers of children’s and babywear – their Robin Hood brand was top quality and they chose their outlets very carefully. The only shops in Hinton favoured with their goods were Marlow’s and their big rival, Burrell’s.

‘You may well look surprised,’ Lily’s boss went on. ‘I was due to go with Miss Naylor, but she has to be at home that day for the ruins recorder.’

Miss Naylor was the buyer on Schoolwear. Her house was in a terrace that had been part-destroyed when a bomb had dropped on Hinton the previous year. The council’s inspector had to make regular visits to make sure the houses still standing were safe to live in.

Poor Miss Naylor – but lucky Lily! Lucky Miss Frobisher too, though she’d never have let on. She and Miss Naylor were not the best of friends and Miss Frobisher had always felt her presence on the trip, on the basis of girls’ gym knickers and boys’ rugby socks, was superfluous.

‘The expenses had already been cleared and the tickets bought,’ Miss Frobisher went on, ‘so rather than waste one …’

Her eyebrows signalled it might be a good idea if Lily made some response, and she found her voice.

‘Miss Frobisher, that would be wonderful!’ she managed. ‘Thank you!’

‘It’s intended to be instructive,’ said Miss Frobisher firmly, in case Lily thought it was to be a jolly day out – which she hadn’t. ‘Selling’s only one aspect of running a department. This will show you where and how it all begins – the buying process.’

Lily knew she should be listening as Miss Frobisher explained how she’d cleared Lily’s absence with the first floor supervisor, Mr Simmonds, when they’d need to leave and when they’d get back, but her mind was running ahead.

‘One aspect of running a department?’ Of running a department ? Lily knew she wanted to progress and she knew Miss Frobisher thought she had it in her … but buying? Was her boss really implying she could see Lily going that far at Marlow’s?

Things really did happen in August – and they weren’t all bad, either!

Lily hugged the news to herself for the rest of the day. She told Gladys about it as they left the store but made sure to talk it down as much as she could.

‘I expect she just wants company,’ she explained. ‘You know what the trains are like.’

Lily knew from past experience – look at the way Gladys had reacted to Lily and Jim getting together – how her friend loved to build things up and she didn’t want her reading any more into it than she only half-dared to herself.

She had to tell her mum as well, naturally, because who knew when she and Miss Frobisher would get back and she didn’t want her to worry. But Dora wasn’t to be fooled.

‘She must think something of you, Lily!’

‘Oh, well, maybe.’

Dora wiped her hands on her apron – she’d been peeling potatoes – and came to give her daughter a hug. She hadn’t been very free with her hugs when Lily and the boys had been growing up – too busy keeping them fed and clothed after she’d been widowed. Her life was hardly any easier now she was living through the second world war of her lifetime, and she missed and worried endlessly about her sons – but if that had made her more demonstrative to the child she did have at home, Lily wasn’t complaining.

‘I did promise when I started at Marlow’s that I’d try my hardest. But I’m so lucky with Miss Frobisher. Not all the buyers are like it, but she wants to help me along.’

‘And up, by the sound of it!’ Dora had a sudden thought. ‘Lucky you got that jacket at the rummage the other week. And if you want to borrow my horseshoe brooch for the lapel, you’ve only to say.’

The only person Lily could really confide in about her hopes was Jim, but when he came back on Sunday, he was understandably preoccupied.

‘Flying visit,’ he said, surprising Lily and Dora by turning up as they were finishing their meagre, virtually meat-free stew.

Dora immediately fetched him a plate and served out the rest – so much for Monday’s planned cottage pie – and Jim answered their questions between mouthfuls. The answers weren’t encouraging.

‘I don’t know what to think,’ he confessed. ‘Mother’s hardly been out of bed, but they’re chucking her out tomorrow.’

‘That can’t be right!’ Dora protested.

‘No, that’s not quite fair. Someone’s been coming to walk her up and down – her leg’s not too bad, though she needs someone to lean on. But she can hardly move her arm. Still, they need the bed, apparently.’

‘What are you going to do? You’ll have to stay on, won’t you?’

Jim turned to answer Lily, but she knew what he’d say.

‘There’s nothing else for it, till I can sort someone out to look after her and my dad. I’m only back to collect some clothes.’

He’d finished his stew in what seemed like seconds and Lily trailed upstairs after him to watch him pack for the second time in five days.

‘I wish there was something I could do,’ she said.

‘There is,’ said Jim. He produced a letter from his pocket. ‘Take this in to work; it’s telling them I’ll need a bit more time off.’

He gave a huge sigh and sank onto the bed, pulling Lily down beside him.

‘What a mess it all is.’

Lily put her arms round him and pulled him close.

‘It’ll get sorted,’ she said, trying to sound convincing. ‘Things do.’

Jim smiled thinly. He didn’t tell her that Margaret had instantly offered to help, though he’d rebuffed that straight away – she had a more-than-full-time job on the farm. No, he’d have to find someone else in the village, though the only available candidate so far was Mrs Dawkins, a rather chaotic woman who cleaned – and frequently drank – at the pub. Jim couldn’t see her meeting with his mother’s approval. Still, she might have to put up with it.