Miracle on Regent Street (45 page)

Carly leans in towards me. ‘Do you reckon it’s time to own up?’ she whispers furtively.

I feel my heart pounding as I turn sharply to look at her. How does she know? ‘After all, it
could
have been either one of us,’ she adds wickedly. ‘No one would ever
know, especially as no one seems to want to take the credit anyway . . .’ My heart returns to its normal pace. She doesn’t know. Thank God.

‘Well, then,’ Rupert sighs, ‘it seems we have our very own Secret Santa. And if I can’t thank the person – or people – responsible personally, I’d like
to assume that you all have a hand in it, with the help of a truly wonderful manager.’ He touches Sharon’s shoulder gently, and she looks like she might just faint with pleasure. Her
ironing board body seems to go limp, she leans into Rupert for support and he places an arm around her.

‘But, folks,’ he continues, ‘I’m afraid it isn’t all good news. Whilst Hardy’s has seen an incredible turnaround in the last two weeks, we’re not out of
the woods yet. In fact, we are still very much in the thick of it. Hardy’s has been trading at a desperately low level for a long time now and the Board have had enough. The offer from Rumors
is still on the table and the only way they will consider turning it down is if we prove that we can compete with the other department stores over the holiday period. That means we need customers
to be flooding through our doors every day in the week before Christmas. We also need every department to be performing as well as the ones that have been successfully made over.’

He pauses and looks at the sales figures on his clipboard. ‘Unfortunately,’ he says, his voice taking on a more serious tone, ‘Designers had another very unsatisfactory
weekend, with only one sale on Saturday – a tartan taffeta gown that Lady Fontescue had preordered for her annual Hogmanay celebration. But when she came to collect it, it was found to be on
a sale rack. She was not amused.’

‘I wasn’t to know that ugly bit of tat had actually been chosen by someone,’ Carly grumbles defensively. ‘I was trying to show some initiative in creating some revenue
out of the crappy old stock we keep clinging on to so I can make room for some more fab new designers.’

Rupert purses his lips and there is a murmur of disapproval and discontent from the rest of the room.

‘That “crappy old stock” has been selling pretty well in my department recently,’ pipes up Jane bravely.

‘Mine too,’ says Gwen. ‘Our customers can’t get enough of those lavender soaps. I’ve heard some of them swear it’s better than Crème de la
Mer!’

‘And I’ve lost count of the number of trilbies I’ve sold since they’ve been out on display,’ Guy adds.

Carly scowls at him and sinks back in her seat.

‘I think the point I’m trying to make, everyone, is that
all
the departments need to be dramatically increasing their sales,’ Rupert says pointedly. ‘We need to be
actively competing with similar-sized stores, like Fenwicks. We’ve proved that Hardy’s has the chance of a future, but now we need to blow the Board away with sales figures that they
won’t be able to ignore. If we can prove that we can more than compete with anything that Rumors could do on this site, then we could, by some miracle, stop the buy-out.’ He presses his
fingers to his lips in a prayer position before he speaks again. Clearly he’s not convinced by the statement. ‘These are going to be the most important twelve days of Hardy’s
one-hundred-year history. I need everyone to pull together, which means helping those in the most underperforming departments, like Designers—’

‘That would be good, Rupe,’ Carly interrupts flippantly. ‘I mean, my ideas are working, I just need some support from certain members of staff,’ she says, and throws
Elaine a meaningful look.

‘That’s not fair,’ Elaine exclaims, scowling at Carly. ‘
She’s
the one who doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing. She doesn’t understand what
our customers want. She just flounces around acting all high and mighty and not actually doing anything to improve the department. It looks like a bloody art gallery in there, and those designers
she’s chosen just aren’t ri—’

‘Oh, and you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?’ snaps back Carly. ‘I mean, look at you; you’re not exactly the best advert for the designers department.
You wouldn’t know couture if it came and draped itself all over you.’

‘That’s exactly the point!’ Elaine shouts. ‘Nor would our customers!
Hardy’s
version of Designers should be wearable classics, investment pieces that will
attract all ages into the store. We could have the occasional new designer, sure, but they have to be ones that fit in with the style of customer. We’re never going to sell edgy fashion or
couture, and you’re more of an idiot than I already thought if you think we can!’

‘Don’t call me an idiot,’ Carly snarls, jumping up to her feet and launching herself at Elaine.

Guy and I quickly pull her back as Rupert starts flapping and the rest of the staff squeal and clap in the excitement of a possible bitch-fight.

‘Well, no one else has made such a mess of their department, have they?’ shouts Elaine as Sharon physically restrains her.

‘Oh,
really?
’ yells back Carly. ‘Well, my ideas are working in the rest of the store, aren’t they?’

A sudden silence descends over the room and everyone looks at each other uncertainly and then back at Carly. Guy and I drop our hands and step away from her.

I’m shocked. Even though she threatened to take the credit for the makeovers I didn’t think she actually would. Part of me admires her for being so fearless. She knows that no one
knows just who is making all the changes, and she also knows that Rupert really believes in her so it won’t be beyond the realms of possibility that she’d be the one doing it;
it’s why he promoted her, after all. But with one glance around the room I can see that none of the staff believes her. They are all looking at Carly with disgust and outrage, including
Sharon. But Carly keeps a brave face, her chin lifted proudly, her arms folded defiantly. I should be upset that she has stolen my thunder, but the truth is, what she’s just done is no worse
than what I’ve done to her over the past two weeks. Just like me, Carly is now pretending to be something she’s not. Clearly, we have more in common that I ever thought.

‘Ladies, I think that’s enough, don’t you?’ Sharon says coldly. ‘This is not the way to behave in a staff meeting.’ She claps her hands and everyone visibly
stands to attention. ‘Now, everyone, there’s work to do. This is an important week for Hardy’s and, as Rupert says, we all need to be working together as a team.’ She shoots
a frosty glance at Carly. ‘Off you go.’

As everyone files out, Carly sinks back down on the sofa and sits staring at her shoes. I don’t know what to say to her so I busy myself tidying the stockroom, which looks like a disaster
zone after such a hectic day yesterday. I get so involved in my tidying process, revelling in the feeling of bringing order and calm back to the chaos with every single item that I put back on a
shelf, that I forget she’s even there.

‘Sarah,’ she says quietly, and I peer around the shelves to see her looking disconsolately at me. ‘Can I talk to you?’

I try not to sigh. I really want to tidy the stockroom before the store opens as it’s so important that we have a good day. I can’t help but wish she’d just go and sort her own
department out. After all, didn’t she hear what Sharon and Rupert just said?

I look at my watch. ‘OK, Carly, but I don’t have long. There’s a lot to do.’

‘Thanks, you’re a real pal. I just don’t know what to do any more, you know?’ she says, swiping a long, bronze-coloured strand of hair out of her eyes, which I’m
surprised to see are glistening with tears. ‘I mean, two weeks ago I was on top of the world, I had this promotion and another great job offer on the table from Rumors, I was out having fun
all the time, and so what if I didn’t have a boyfriend? I was dating all the time, which was good, as it meant I didn’t have to spend much time at home with my horrible
flatmate—’

‘I thought you were best friends?’ I interrupt.

Carly shakes her head and shrinks a little. ‘I had to find a new flatmate after my best friend moved out,’ she says quietly.

‘Why did she do that?’

‘Because she got this boyfriend and all of a sudden she wanted to do the whole “playing house” thing. I mean, we used to have so much fun and it didn’t matter to me that
I was always single. We’d just hang out together. But now she’s always staying in with her boyfriend, or saving up for things for their flat, and this new girl I’m living with
treats me like I’m invisible. I thought we’d hang out loads but she’s either working late, or she stays in her room and only communicates with me through shitty Post-it note
messages. Now I have no one to go out with. Blokes never seem to want to do anything more than date me until we have sex, then they dump me. And now everyone at work hates me too. And Rumors
haven’t called me back since my second interview.’

She starts to cry and I sit next to her and put my arm around her somewhat awkwardly. ‘You’re my only friend, Sarah. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.
I’m so sorry for being like this, I don’t recognize myself any more. It’s like someone came and stole my former life and left me with this crappy one where everyone ignores me and
I spend most of my time on my own. I just wish things could be back to normal. I never really wanted this bloody promotion. I liked being a personal shopper – I was good at that. I knew what
looked good on people and how to make them feel better about themselves. I just wish someone would make
me
feel better.’

As she puts her head on my shoulder and sobs, I do my best to comfort her, simultaneously feeling like the worst person in the whole wide world because the truth is
I’m
the one who
has stolen her life.

I don’t feel any better when Rupert and Sharon come into the stockroom about an hour after she’s gone. Once again, I’m squirrelled away at the back and they
don’t see me. Sharon doesn’t even think to call out my name and I know Rupert wouldn’t as I’m not sure he even knows I exist. Instead they start discussing the events of the
morning meeting.

‘I don’t know, Rupe,’ Sharon says softly, sounding more gentle and feminine than I’ve ever heard her. ‘I’m just not sure that Carly has
really got what it takes to be a manager.’

Rupert sighs. ‘I know, and I had such high hopes for her, too. But she’s clearly alienating the staff and I can’t afford for that to happen, no matter how talented she may be
at visually merchandising the store.’

‘
If
she is that talented,’ Sharon says barbedly.

‘Do you have anything to tell me, Sharon?’ Rupert says. ‘I mean, I totally understand why you don’t want to admit that it’s you who has been doing these wonderful
makeovers. I know that you want me to think it could be any one of the staff, but honestly, you can tell me. I promise it won’t affect anyone’s jobs; we’re past that now. Well,
perhaps with one exception.’

‘Oh, Rupert,’ Sharon gushes, ‘I’m so flattered you think it might be me, but don’t you think I would have told you what I was doing? I tell you everything, after
all. No,’ she sighs, ‘I may be a good manager but I can’t take credit for the secret makeovers. And I don’t think Carly can either,’ she adds.

‘Really? But why would she lie?’ Rupert asks. ‘Isn’t that a dangerous game to play?’

‘More like a desperate one,’ Sharon points out. ‘The poor girl has had a terrible couple of weeks. It’s clear she’s out of her depth and isn’t right for the
role. I agree she was a wonderful personal shopper, but her talents just don’t seem to translate into management.’

‘So what do I do?’ Rupert asks. ‘I can’t demote her back into personal shopping. That department was overstaffed anyway, and even with the new customers, there still
isn’t enough demand for it. The service my great-grandfather wanted for Hardy’s was that every customer would feel like they had an assistant’s undivided attention for as long as
they want, helping them with every single part of the Hardy’s shopping experience. As far as I’m concerned that
is
personal shopping. It isn’t a department, it’s the
raison d’être
of the whole store.’ He gazes wistfully into the distance. ‘My dream, if Hardy’s survives, is to have a higher staff-per-customer ratio than any
other store. We’ll incorporate American retail standards but maintain the British reserve of not being too, you know, “in your face”.’

I stifle a snigger as Rupert uses that uncharacteristically ‘street’ phrase, but I find myself becoming serious when I hear him speak again.

‘I don’t know, Sharon, Carly is causing such discontent in the store, if she doesn’t dramatically turn around her department – or at the very least her attitude –
I’m going to have to look at demoting her immediately, with a view to letting her go. After all, maybe she’s better suited to a more modern store than this anyway? I mean, Elaine had a
point when she was talking about the type of designers we should be stocking here at Hardy’s. She may not be as glamorous as Carly, and she can be a bit lazy, but she knows her stuff, that
girl, and she’s been really helping out in other departments. She’s actually turned out to be a good team player.’

‘Well, you should do what you think best for the store: you’re the boss, after all,’ Sharon replies before adding shyly, ‘and a wonderful one you are, too.’

‘Why, thank you, Sharon.’ I don’t need to see Rupert to know he has turned a deep shade of red. ‘There is something else I wanted to talk to you about, Sharon, something
more um, personal.’ He coughs nervously. ‘Would you . . . you know . . . by any chance be free to, well, actually, I mean to go for dinner at some point with me? More specifically I
mean tonight, er . . . maybe?’

‘Rupert, I’d be delighted,’ breathes Sharon. And they walk out of the stockroom, the door slamming shut behind them.

I sink down against the shelves and put my head in my hands, rubbing my forehead with exhaustion and concern. Poor Carly, she has no idea she’s about to lose her job and I honestly
don’t know how she’ll cope. The poor girl is at her lowest ebb and I understand just how that feels. In fact, right now Carly seems to have inherited my bad luck and I feel like
it’s all my fault. I mean, the universe has to send it somewhere, right? And ever since I wished for my life to change, it has – but at the same time Carly’s has changed too, for
the worse.