with a lasso.
‘OK, so what does that mean?’ I have to know one way or the other. Maybe then I’ll be able to relax a bit, if I know what I’m dealing with. At least then I can face it head on.
‘Well, what do you think it means?’ she says, dazzling me with her pageant smile.
‘Well, I guess I want to know if my job is safe.’ There, I’ve said it. I sit back and listen to the blood pumping in my ears.
‘I can see why you might be worried about losing your job. Given the current financial climate and your family history … shall we say?’ She stops looking at me, and busies herself instead by circling her other ankle now. There’s an uncomfortable silence. I fidget in my chair.
‘How do you know about that?’ The words are barely audible and I can hear the panic rising in my voice.
‘Oh, someone mentioned it,’ she says, breezily. Oh my God! So who else knows? My cheeks flush and, as if reading my mind, she adds, ‘That’s it!’ as though it’s just popped into her head. ‘It was in your interview notes with something about it being your own personal business and not to mention it in case it upsets you. So I Googled it.’ James! Lovely kind James. I breathe a little sigh of relief, knowing I can probably trust him.
‘How is your father these days?’
‘Well, we don’t have much contact …’ I say slowly. ‘It was a long time ago,’ I add, tentatively. My mind is working overtime trying to fathom out where she is going with this.
‘Must have been hard though.’ I can feel my hands trembling so I push them underneath the sides of my thighs.
‘Yes it was,’ I mutter, looking at the floor and wishing I was anywhere but here.
‘I’m sure. Dreadful business. Losing everything like that. And then you being left all alone,’ she says, touching my arm briefly.
‘I lived with a foster family,’ I say, instantly hating myself for feeling a need to explain.
‘Oh dear, no other family then?’
‘Not really,’ I say quietly.
My only relatives, Dad’s brother and his family, were living in Dubai when Mum died, with ‘no space for an extra teenager’ they said. The memory is scalded onto my brain along with the clinical smell of the hospital as I cuddled and stroked Mum’s hair during the goodbyes. She’d been ill for so long … and I’d tried to look after her, even bunking off school on occasion, but it was the pneumonia that took her in the end. Her body, so weak with MS, just couldn’t fight it. A jolt of grief grabs me, and for a second tears sting in my eyes. She would have been celebrating her sixtieth birthday this year.
‘Well, good thinking on your part to use your mother’s maiden name,’ Maxine says. ‘Break from the past and all that …’
‘Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but where are you going with this?’
‘Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I trust nobody else knows, apart from James of course,’ she says, changing tack now. I shake my head, knowing Eddie would never breathe a word. ‘Good, because us girls have to stick together.’ She leans towards me in a conspiratorial way. ‘Just make sure everything else is in order, because in addition to revitalising the store, I’m going to attempt to modernise Carrington’s.’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
‘Well, given that an exceptionally high volume of valuable items are handled on a daily basis, I’ve suggested HR pull their finger out and do proper checks on everyone, like other stores do. Credit checks and so on. I can’t believe they haven’t even bothered before now. I’ve already discovered there’s at least ten thousand pounds’ worth of shrinkage – stock unaccounted for in the last quarter alone.’
I knew it! I gulp and vow to get hold of my credit file. I’m going to have to get it sorted out, once and for all.
‘So I’m not going to lose my job then?’ And no sooner are the words out of my mouth, when I want to cram them back in.
‘There will be changes,’ she starts, and I brace myself. ‘There are way too many sections in this store that don’t make enough money. Every inch of floor space must earn its keep. So, I’ll be assessing the viability of each section and rationalising them into bigger, more lucrative ones. For example, those homemade silk purses you have taking up a lot of shelf space, how many do you actually sell?’
‘Err, well, I’m hoping to push them as Valentine gifts.’ Marigold, the designer, will be heartbroken if we stop selling her stuff. ‘And the tourists love them,’ I venture, thinking of her working away in the little weatherboard studio on the shingle with unbroken views of the sea. Admittedly, I don’t actually sell many of the purses, but customers are always intrigued to hear about the local artist who makes them.
‘They’re an indulgence. And one Carrington’s can’t afford if it’s going to be successfully rejuvenated, and that’s where you come in.’
‘I do?’ I say, perking up. Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all. My section does pretty well compared to the others.
‘I shall be assessing the sections on the ground floor by the main entrance first for visibility and profitability. Women’s Accessories, Men’s Accessories and Fine Jewellery. I can’t believe the cabinet is hidden away up in the personal shopping suite. No, it must be downstairs right by the door, where everyone can see it and be encouraged to buy from it before they waste their money on low-value items elsewhere in the store. I want their shopping fix satiated by high-end goods.’ I nod, thinking, so do I, means more commission for me. ‘And new brand names. Big names! I want Prada. Hermès,’ she gushes, her voice getting louder and more animated, and my nodding head speeds up. ‘And then I’ll decide who is best to sell such exclusive brands.’
My head stops and my heart sinks. Whaat? What does she mean? I’m the best sales assistant. Carrington’s finest …
‘Well, if you look at my sales figures, you—’
‘I like to shake things up a bit.’ Hmmm. Bully for you. ‘Show me your mettle. Let’s see who is really the best sales assistant and then they can sell those exclusive brands,’ she says, triumphantly.
‘Does James know about this?’ I manage to say, my mind reeling. I’m going to be in direct competition with James. And how is my section ever going to compete with Fine Jewellery? One piece alone can cost the equivalent of ten Louis bags.
‘He was the first to know,’ she replies, scribbling something on a page in her Filofax. The room reels as I try to take it all in. ‘So it will be the three of you section heads that I’ll be focusing on initially.’ Maxine carries on scrawling, not even bothering to look up at me.
‘Three of us?’ I ask tentatively, I’m guessing this is where Tom comes in. I’m glad she can’t see my face.
‘Yes, but you know that already, don’t you?’
‘Err, yes,’ I gulp. I fidget in my seat as she continues to hold my stare. So Tom must have told her about our conversation in the club; that I know how he was recruited – and what he’ll be selling. I knew he
