Changing Times at Harpers

Rosie Clarke

Description

The next instalment in the bestselling Harpers Emporium series!

London Spring 1920
Harpers is beginning to flourish once more after the end of the war but for Sally Harper the problems continue.
Husband Ben is moody, sometimes distant, and she feels he is shutting her out at home and at work, but why?
It takes a terrible tragedy to make them realise their love and respect is still true.
The ladies and girls who work at Harpers continue to battle with problems in their own lives.
Marion is still trying to reach her war-damaged husband and Lilly is battling with her pain and shame.
It’s a period of transition for all.
The doors of Harpers are busy welcoming new and returning staff whilst bidding a fond farewell to others.
This is the beginning of a new era and there is a fresh buzz of excitement in the air.

Sujets

• Mashups
• Wholesome
• 20th Century
• Historical
• Women
• Gran Londres
• 19th century
• Friendship
• Historical romance
• Workplace
• General officer
• Military
• Historical fiction
• Woman
• Greater London
• The Women
• City Life
• General
• Clean
• Sagas
• International
• Family Life
• Romance
• Saga
• Grand Londres
• Fiction
• London

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781804157459
• Langue: English

Extrait

CHANGING TIMES AT HARPERS


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

Chapter 39


More from Rosie Clarke

About the Author

Sixpence Stories

About Boldwood Books
1

What a joy it was to see Harpers’ shelves fully stocked again! More than two years had passed since the Armistice and it was now late spring 1920; gradually, the right kind of stock had started to appear once more. Instead of Sally Harper having to search for firms that were able to sell her small quantities, they were queuing up to offer her merchandise and she had a pile of catalogues and samples waiting on her desk in the office. At the beginning of the war, with her husband, Ben’s absence and a shortage of male staff, she’d been obliged to take on more and more of the buying responsibility, but she was now able to concentrate on the departments she enjoyed most.
‘I will be around a lot more now,’ Ben had told her when he’d finally been able to walk away from the duties he’d taken on for the War Office during the long conflict. ‘I shall oversee the men’s department, though Mr Brown will continue to run it and we’ll discuss the merchandise together. You’ve done too much these past years, Sally. I know you don’t want to give it up, so go back to the departments you love and leave the rest to me – and the buyers I’ll appoint for the other departments.’
Sally hadn’t argued. They had discussed it at length and it seemed right that Ben, who was after all the owner of the business, should take on much of the work that had fallen to her. Harpers was a large store and if Ben had his way it would continue to grow, with more and more departments. He’d talked of increasing their floor space as soon as an adjacent building to the restaurant became free. No one person could be responsible for all that indefinitely. Besides, she had two lively children to care for, her daughter Jenny, six and a half years old now, and her son Peter, not yet two, and she was looking forward to spending time with them, as well as the other charitable work she did with Maggie Morgan and Beth Burrows, two of her closest friends. All three of them had started work at Harpers when it had first opened. Beth and Maggie were happily married, and no longer worked there, but the three had remained firm friends.
When the Armistice was signed, amidst all the joy and celebrations for the Allied victory, Maggie had made Sally aware of a serious problem for the men returning from several years at war. They were suffering from mental wounds as well as physical ones and a member of their own staff, Marion Jackson, had been affected. Her husband Reggie had been wounded more than once and recovered physically, but his mental state was fragile and he’d attacked her. If a man who loved his wife, as Reggie clearly did, had been so severely affected that he would hit her, then how many men were suffering untold horrors they’d seen during the war, and how many other wives were being subjected to the same distress? Reggie had shown his remorse and asked for help, which had led Marion to approach her friend Maggie.
Maggie had come up with the idea of campaigning for proper homes for soldiers suffering from war stress caused by the terrible death and destruction they had witnessed and endured for the sake of king and country. So Maggie and Sally had raised funds and gathered support, actually setting up as many homes as they could themselves. So far, they had three up and running, all with trained staff who understood that these men had been pushed beyond endurance. They were not cowards because they got the shakes if they heard a loud bang, nor were they bullies and wife-beaters by nature. Instead, they were ill with worry and fear to the extent that they might never be the same, often hiding their shame and pain behind closed doors. Now that people were becoming more aware of the problem, they were calling it shell shock, but many still thought it shameful.



* * *
‘Mrs Harper – may I have a word please?’
Sally’s thoughts returned to the present as she looked at the young woman who had spoken. Now in charge of the hat and bag department, to which Sally’s meandering steps had brought her, Andrea Martin was in her thirties, attractive, intelligent and a war widow. Her only son was at boarding school, having won a scholarship that meant there were no fees, but she worked to keep her home going and to pay for his uniform and the other things he needed.
‘Paul is as bright as his father was,’ she’d told Sally when applying for the position of supervisor in the bag, hat and jewellery department. ‘I want him to have a good education – the education he would have had if the war hadn’t happened.’
‘Your husband was a fighter pilot,’ Sally had noted, reading her application letter. ‘Yes, I see you say he was killed… his plane went down over the sea… I am so sorry.’ She’d felt immediate sympathy with the young woman, who had some of the resilience of Rachel Bailey, the woman who had been in charge of the department until she’d retired to the country with her husband. ‘You say you had experience at Selfridges before you married – why did you not return there?’
‘Because I’d heard about Harpers and the opportunity for women here. Many of the other shops are only taking on men for senior positions these days.’ She’d looked so earnest and anxious that Sally had felt her need. ‘I am a good careful person, Mrs Harper. I can add up and I’m honest – but I’ve never done office work, nor do I have the skills to be a secretary. A shop girl’s wage would not be sufficient for my needs. I could have gone on the counters at Selfridges, but I wanted a supervisor’s position.’
Considering her to be the best applicant, Sally had taken her on. She looked at her now. Andrea was dressed in a smart black dress with a white collar and sensible court shoes, her dark hair cut short into the neck and styled in waves each side of her attractive face.
‘Yes, Mrs Martin, how can I help you?’
‘A man came to the department asking to see you earlier this morning. He said he was an old friend but… I wasn’t sure…’ She took a deep breath. ‘I thought he might be… might not be what he claimed, so I didn’t tell him you were coming in later today.’
‘A man?’ Sally asked, mildly intrigued. ‘Was he disreputable or threatening?’
‘It was just his accent.’ Andrea frowned. ‘I think he was Irish – and he spoke about you in such a familiar way—’
‘Irish?’ Sally stared at her. ‘It might be Mick O’Sullivan; he is a good friend, but I thought he’d decided to settle in America. Oh, well, if it was Mick, he knows where I live. He will get in touch, but I’m surprised he didn’t write to let us know he was coming back…’ Mick had invested in Harpers at the end of the war, but it wasn’t generally known and Sally had no intention of telling her new supervisor.
An embarrassed look flushed Andrea’s face. ‘I may have made a mistake, Mrs Harper. I was a little short with him – and if he is a friend—’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Sally told her. ‘Mick will be highly amused if it is him. He’d go away chuckling to himself – but next time, ask for the name please.’
‘I think he did say it was Mick, but that is often used for Irishmen… I am so sorry.’
‘No, you did the right thing,’ Sally told her. ‘Now, let’s talk of business. You’ve been here a week – how are you getting on?’
‘I like it very much,’ Andrea told her, still a little embarrassed. ‘Everyone is friendly and the girls you employ in this department seem polite and good at their jobs.’
‘Most of you are new to the department,’ Sally informed her. ‘The girls I knew best have left for various reasons. Mrs Bailey left some time ago – she had your job and I’ve had two ladies in the position since, neither of whom were really up to it and both left to marry when their sweethearts returned from the war. I hope you won’t leave me in the lurch, Mrs Martin?’
‘Oh no, I am far too grateful to have the position,’ she said. ‘Well, Miss Brown is doing well on hats. She is the men’s department head, Mr Brown’s daughter, of course, and her father told her what was expected. He calls in for her in the evening and they go home together. Miss Fairley is suitable for the scarves and gloves. She has good hands and keeps them soft so doesn’t snag the silk.’
‘And Lilly Ross?’ Sally asked, glancing at the young girl who had come as the junior to assist Andrea Martin. ‘How is she getting on?’
‘Lilly…’ Andrea frowned. ‘She is trying her best. I believe her to be honest, which is very necessary in this department, but she hasn’t been trained for this kind of position. You did know she worked in a munitions factory during the war?’
‘Yes, she told me,’ Sally said and smiled at the girl who was helping Janet Fairley on the scarf and glove counter. Three customers were asking about merchandise, which was too much for any one assistant. ‘She has an invalid mother and two younger siblings at home and needed a better job with a hope of promotion in the future. Her father is dead and two of her elder brothers were killed on active service…’
‘Yes, I know. It was devastating for the family,’ Andrea agreed. ‘That’s why I’ve given her the benefit of the doubt when she has been late for work a few times.’
‘If it continues, send her to me and I’ll get to the bottom of it,’ Sally instructed. ‘I know there is a lot of hardship, Mrs Martin, and I want to give all my staff a fair chance.’
‘