Rainy Days for the Harpers Girls. Rosie Clarke

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Rainy Days for the Harpers Girls - Rosie Clarke Welcome To Harpers Emporium

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was a tragedy. The more so because it was caused by a father whose pride wouldn’t let him understand that his son was different – and that was all it was really, Ben thought. Julien’s father had let his old-school morals and fear of scandal overrule his love for his son and now bitterly regretted it, though he blamed Marco. Ben wanted to shake the man and make him see sense, make him forget his stiff-necked pride, but he supposed that the family reputation would not allow it. If Julien’s father admitted the truth, then he must take responsibility for his son’s death.

      Yet why had his prejudice caused him to ruin both his son’s and Marco’s lives? Ben pondered the question. People were not the same to look at, so why should they feel the same when it came to falling in love? Attitudes were changing and many would no longer condemn such a love, no longer see it as black and white. Ben did not understand why Marco had loved a young man rather than a girl, but he knew that love was real – as real as his own was for Sally. To lose Sally would leave Ben feeling empty and devastated and he knew Marco had suffered terrible agony and remorse over Julien’s death, blaming himself, though it was not his fault but another’s. Ben respected Marco both as a professional and as a person and he’d done his best to help his friend in every way he could since the tragedy that had devastated his life. Marco was quietly carrying on, living with dignity, his deep grief hidden from the world but there to see when you looked into his eyes.

      Sally was standing now and looking down at him in the bed, her dark hair slightly longer than usual, with the morning light highlighting the hints of red as it waved on to her shoulders. Ben’s gaze dwelled on the curve of her stomach and he felt a surge of love and pride. It was his child she was carrying – a boy, Sally said, though she had no way of knowing, but for Ben, Sally was usually right. Her advice concerning the store was always good and, so far, she hadn’t put a foot wrong. Her own departments were the most successful, but trade was steady throughout the store and Ben had been busy with his own plans of late, secrets he hadn’t yet told his wife, because he needed to be sure and he wanted them to be a surprise. When he’d first heard that the tobacconist next door to Harpers Emporium, was to be sold he’d taken the first opportunity to view it. Although not a large property in itself, its relatively cheap price meant that he could just afford to buy it and expand the departments. Sally thought they needed bigger shoe and lingerie departments and Ben wanted a toy department as well as a confectionary hall and a florist. He’d already had meetings with the district council about the change of purpose for the flat above the tobacconist’s shop and it was there he would put the confectionary, next to the florists. The toy shop would be in the old shop, once it had been opened out, with as little disruption as he could manage. Sally could take the middle floor for whatever she wanted, when all the building work had finished. She was keen to build up her cosmetics department by importing some of the wonderful perfumes, creams and other toiletries that were becoming all the rage in New York.

      Would she be pleased with her surprise or annoyed that he hadn’t told her of his plans? Ben hoped it would be the first and felt slightly guilty that he hadn’t shared earlier. He held out his hand and she took it, sitting on the edge of the bed and bending down to kiss him. She smelled gorgeous, of some soft flowery perfume she said she wanted to stock in the shop. Made by Yardley, now of Bond Street, London, the toilet water was an English product and well established. Sally had tried the whole range and approved it before ordering: soaps, talcum powder, bath salts and a light cologne for the store. Ben liked it too, thought it was very Sally and encouraged her to buy everything. He wasn’t sure how well it was selling yet, but he’d seen the discreet and pretty display on the ground floor, together with some special creams his sister Jenni had sent over from Elizabeth Arden’s store.

      ‘What are you thinking?’ Sally asked suddenly. He realised she was looking at him intently, a hint of mischief in her face. ‘You’re hiding something – I know it. Is it to do with the anniversary of the store?’

      ‘In a way,’ he said and laughed up at her. ‘You read me just like a book, don’t you?’

      ‘No, but I know when you want to tell me something and can’t…’

      Ben laughed and caught her, bringing her down to him for a lingering kiss. ‘We opened two years ago in March 1912 and now it’s March 1914 – and today I sign for the premises next door to Harpers, which will give us over two thousand extra square feet of selling space…’

      ‘You got it!’ Sally gave a squeal of pleasure and flung herself on him, hugging and kissing him. ‘I was sure you were trying for it, but you didn’t even tell Mr Marco or Mr Stockbridge…’

      ‘I wanted it to be a surprise for you,’ he said and grinned as he sat up and brought his long bare brown legs from the bed. As he stood, he towered over his wife by a head and shoulders, strong, confident and full of life. ‘I know you want bigger lingerie and shoe departments. I’ve planned for a confectionary hall and a florist upstairs and a toy shop on the ground floor – you can use the middle bit as you like…’

      Sally nodded. ‘Lovely! I think florists and confectionary yes, and I knew you wanted the toy department – but I think that should be on the top floor.’

      Ben’s eyebrows rose but he didn’t contest her statement, waiting for the explanation he knew would come.

      ‘Because mothers and fathers will take the lift up for their children’s gifts but flowers and sweets are often impromptu purchases and should be within easy reach.’ She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Belgian and Swiss, of course, but I think we should try to find sources nearer to home, too – someone that is selling something different and special, and needs more exposure and would be glad to get a large order from Harpers…’

      ‘And I suppose you already have an idea about that?’

      Sally nodded, eyes sparkling. ‘I just might…’

      ‘What would I do without you?’ he asked and nodded. ‘As usual, you’re right, Sally. I was thinking of the children eager to dive in to the toy shop – but you’re the sensible one. Mothers and fathers who can afford it will spend the earth on their children and taking the lift to the top floor is nothing.’

      Sally nodded and rubbed her swollen belly gently. ‘You’ll do anything for your children,’ she said lovingly. ‘Sweets are often for a loved one, but sometimes just because you want to treat yourself and no one will bother with the lift then, even if they are delicious – you do mean them to be extra special, I hope?’

      ‘I certainly do,’ Ben grinned. ‘Belgian chocolates, handmade and packed in paper cases and fancy boxes. That’s the way to sell the finest chocolates, I believe, do you agree, my love? Beautiful chocolate cakes and fluffy meringues too – and some of the children’s favourites, like burnt toffee pieces, coconut ice and pear drops… big jars of them that the children can purchase two ounces of if they want.’

      ‘It all sounds wonderful,’ Sally said. ‘It makes my mouth water just to think of it. I’m so glad you managed to get the extra space, Ben…’

      He watched as she moved away to take off her silky dressing robe, which she’d worn to do her exercises, and replace it with her delicate lingerie and a smart black dress with a white lace collar and a loose jacket that discreetly covered her bump.

      ‘Are you going into work today?’ he asked. ‘I thought we might go somewhere special for lunch to celebrate?’

      ‘Yes, we could easily do that,’ Sally agreed. ‘I have two appointments early this morning and then I’ve finished for the day. We might try that new restaurant of Mick’s…’ She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. ‘He sent us an invitation for the opening… I think I put it on your desk somewhere.’

      ‘Yes,

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