The Second Chance Shoe Shop (3 page)

BOOK: The Second Chance Shoe Shop
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Chapter Four

E
ven though she
had been up extra-early that morning, Riley only just managed to get to work on time. She and Ash had been walking to the bus stop when their bus had driven past them, several minutes early, and there hadn’t been another one for thirty minutes. It was at times like these that she missed her car. Her last one had died when she had taken it for its MOT. She’d toyed with getting another one but wanted to save some money first.

During the rest of the day, a sense of dread crept in as she worried about the meeting. After watching a woman walk around the shop in ten seconds flat and then back out onto the High Street, Riley wandered over to Sadie. She looked as worried as Riley felt.

‘They won’t close the shop, will they?’ Sadie asked, unable to mask the concern in her voice.

‘I don’t know,’ said Riley, truthfully. ‘I really hope they don’t.’

‘So do I,’ Dan shouted from the other end of the shop.

Riley nodded, knowing they would have no choice in the matter if it was what Suzanne was coming to talk to them about.

Suzanne hadn’t got a clue how to run Chandler’s. Unlike her father, she had never wanted to be in the shoe business and had chosen to be a housewife, living the life of luxury as Max climbed the corporate ladder. Max hardly ever visited the shop and hadn’t been near since Christmas, thank goodness. Riley hadn’t been too happy with him after the last few times he’d visited.

Riley had always had an interest in fashion and had worked in retail since she left college. She was always looking online for the latest trends and the next big thing in shoes, despite not being allowed to stock anything even if she spotted it. She drove Ash mad with her chatter about Twitter and Facebook accounts where she followed lots of the fashionistas. She spent hours on their websites, checking out the latest trends, longing to be able to bring them to Hedworth. Some of the designers loved interacting through social media and she felt as though she knew a few personally.

At 5:00 p.m., Suzanne waltzed in. Chandler’s closed at 5:30 p.m., giving her ample time to strut around the shop, checking things out, straightening a shoe here, moving a pair of boots there. Honestly, Riley felt like she was watching a game of chess.

‘This display needs a good clean, Riley.’ Suzanne wrinkled her nose as she ran a finger over a shelf.

‘They were all cleaned this morning,’ Riley explained, not wanting her to get the upper hand. ‘We have a daily cleaning rota.’

Suzanne raised her perfectly arched eyebrows in answer and glared at her for a moment. Riley couldn’t help wondering what Max had ever seen in her. Everything about her was snippy, from the way she held her head to the rough-cut hairstyle which Riley knew must have cost a small fortune to make that messy. Blonde streaks made her look trashy rather than chic for her age of fifty-three, and her expensive, old-fashioned and sensible clothes were an odd combination. But her brusque tone was the worst thing about Suzanne. How she put on an air of authority, thinking she was better than the staff who worked for her.

Suzanne and Max lived in Cheshire, about forty miles north of Hedworth. It was good in one sense, as it had made visits to the shop a rare occurrence. Suzanne liked to keep in touch mostly via stroppy emails, lots of them, several times a week.

Albert had shown Riley photos of his daughter’s house once − a five-bedroom palatial villa, with electric gates, a sweeping drive and the best of everything inside. At first Riley had been envious, but the more she’d got to know Suzanne, the more obvious it became that although she had the house and the husband, she wasn’t necessarily happy behind closed doors. Riley wondered if that was the reason why she had kept an interest in the shop rather than sell it immediately after Albert died. Perhaps it was her piece of independence.

As Suzanne disappeared into the staffroom, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

‘I could drag my nails down a blackboard and the noise wouldn’t irritate me as much as hearing her voice,’ said Dan, shuddering as he folded his arms.

‘Let’s just hear what she has to say first,’ said Riley, trying to keep her spirits up even though she couldn’t have felt less cheerful.

When the shop closed half an hour later, Suzanne reappeared. She was holding a clipboard and tapping on it with a pen.

Riley, Dan and Sadie stood in a line in front of the till, reminding Riley of being at school waiting to go back inside after break.

Suzanne cleared her throat, even though she knew she already had their attention.

‘I’m on my own today because Max is working overseas at the moment. But I want you to know that he is as concerned as I am that the shop hasn’t been doing well lately,’ she told them. ‘Well, that’s an understatement really. We’re losing money.’ She looked at each one of them in turn. ‘And as we said earlier in the year, things needed to improve. But they haven’t.’

‘We’ve had lots of ideas―’ Riley started.

‘I’ve already thought of something to spur you on.’ Suzanne held up her hand. ‘We’re going to have a sales competition between you all!’

Riley glanced at Dan and Sadie in turn before staring at Suzanne. ‘Is this a joke?’ she asked, her brow furrowed.

‘No, it isn’t,’ Suzanne pouted. ‘It’s something to get you motivated.’

‘We don’t need motivating!’ Riley fumed. ‘We’re dedicated staff and we want to keep this shop afloat just as much as you do. There’s no need to put us into competition with each other. We’re a team.’

‘A bit of healthy competition never did any harm.’

‘It does when it comes with a threat,’ said Sadie.

Suzanne turned her head sharply towards her. ‘No one is being threatened, Sadie,’ she snapped. ‘All we are trying to do is instil a bit of―’

‘Fear?’ Dan joined in. ‘You think we’ll be prepared to work to make the shop a success while we’re not even sure our jobs will still be there at the end of it?’

‘How dare you question my integrity,’ Suzanne retorted. ‘Don’t forget that I own this shop, and I have the last say on everything. Whoever brings in the least amount of money during the next three months’ – she looked at them all in turn again – ‘might need to find somewhere else to work.’

Riley, Dan and Sadie all began to speak at once.

‘You can’t do this!’ cried Dan.

‘We’ve been loyal to this shop for years,’ said Sadie.

‘We’re not just a number on a sheet,’ said Riley. ‘We’ve helped build this business up too.’

‘You did a great job of that, didn’t you?’ Suzanne pointed to the shop floor. ‘The shop was empty when I arrived and I assume it stayed the same way until you closed the doors?’

Riley’s eyes dipped to the floor. Suzanne was right: no one had come in, not even just to have a look before heading home.


We
did what we could,’ she defended them all, ‘and what Albert would let us do. It wasn’t easy to move forward with someone who wanted his business to stay the same.’

‘You’re blaming my dead father?’ Suzanne raged.

Riley shook her head. ‘Of course I’m not. But you have to admit, the business was failing because he wouldn’t move with the times.’ She pointed to the electronic till. ‘It took us about three years to get that. And the computer is falling apart. If you want us to do a proper job, then you need to give us the tools to do it. And we need to order new ranges of stock, too.’

‘We haven’t got cash to flash around,’ said Suzanne, ‘as I’m sure you’re well aware.’

Riley opened her mouth to speak but decided against it. If she said what she thought, that Suzanne and Max were both selfish and irresponsible, that Suzanne’s car was worth more than her annual salary, and that they were only trying to close the shop so that they could sell on the assets and pocket everything, she would be dismissed on the spot.

‘So, on to the competition.’ Suzanne tapped her pen on the clipboard again. ‘I’ve made you a chart to put up in the staffroom. You can each record your sales on there. It will spur you on.’

Riley clamped her teeth together again and stayed quiet until Suzanne left and she could speak to Dan and Sadie alone.

‘She is
not
taking our shop away from us,’ she said as soon as she knew Suzanne was out of earshot. ‘We’ll just have to come up with some way of bringing in more sales − and splitting them evenly between us so that they either have to choose all of us, or none of us, to leave.’

‘Like that’s going to happen,’ said Sadie. ‘Everything you’ve suggested has been turned down.’

‘Maybe.’ Riley gnawed on her bottom lip. ‘Forget the competition, but if we have to turn this shop around in three months, then we should have free rein to do whatever we see fit. Am I right?’

‘Hell, yeah!’ Dan whooped.

Sadie smiled. ‘I like your style.’

‘I think it’s high time we had some fun,’ said Riley. ‘Somehow, we’re going to make Chandler’s Shoe Shop the talk of Hedworth.’

R
iley’s flat
was identical in layout to Ash’s, but it was decorated completely differently. Where Ash’s place was full of blacks, whites and chromes, Riley’s rooms were full of colour. The living room and kitchen were combined, and she had pale wooden flooring and a floor-to-ceiling window which made the room light and airy.

The kitchen was made up of a row of white units with a black marble-effect worktop. The tiles above created a flash of magenta to match a small settee and armchair. The flat’s one bedroom had been decorated in pale lemon with deep purple and grey accessories.

Riley loved that Ash still lived so close. She’d known her since school, and at times like these she missed having her as a flatmate to talk to. Still, at least they had more room to move around, now they had separate flats.

Riley adored the whole feel of her flat, and loved to come home and relax. That evening, after she had been to the gym, she sat watching television. But her mind wasn’t on the programme. The meeting with Suzanne had unnerved her more than she’d thought. No wonder she, Dan and Sadie had all been so sharp and snappy. It wasn’t like any of them to be rude, overreact or to speak as if they could say whatever they liked. Riley knew her staff far better than Suzanne ever would. They wouldn’t want to compete against one another, no matter what they were threatened with.

For now, if they had no choice but to take part in this competition, for three months they would just add a tick to each of their sales charts in turn, regardless of who made the sale. There could be no overall winner that way. Riley wasn’t going to make it easier for one of them to be fired. It didn’t bear thinking about.

Riley had never been out of work. At college, she’d opted to study for three A levels, hoping to make up her mind about what she wanted to do as she studied. She’d taken Sociology, Business Studies and Law, passing each one with good grades. But once they were out of the way, still undecided, she’d taken a part-time job as an assistant in a post office. From there, she’d gone to work in Dorothy Perkins as an assistant manager and then she’d been offered the job at Chandler’s. And she’d stayed because she enjoyed it. It wasn’t a taxing job, unless you had a customer, or a child, from hell. It was a laugh, and she had met two best friends for life in Sadie and Dan. It was cruel for Suzanne to pit them against each other that way. Unless Riley found that Sadie and Dan’s friendship over the years counted for nothing now that their livelihoods were on the line, they would all be in this together. One for all, and all that musketeer nonsense!

Since Suzanne’s visit, she’d been thinking of ways they could improve their sales. They’d not long ago had the January sale, and now the new summer footwear was about to come in, there was no way there could be any reductions for a while. Despite their complaints about sales being down, neither Suzanne nor Max had ever been keen to reduce prices, or try out any new lines.

Riley was determined to figure something out. She hadn’t let her staff down yet and she wasn’t about to start.

There was a knock on her door.

‘Ash!’ she smiled. They hadn’t caught the bus together that evening as Ash was working later than usual.

‘I thought I’d call to see you before I head out.’

‘You look lovely.’ Riley checked out her outfit of knee-length black boots and a navy wrap dress underneath a pale blue jacket with a fur collar. Ash’s make-up was a little softer than usual, a neutral tone of eyeshadow showing off her blue eyes beneath the choppy fringe of her urchin hairstyle.

‘Do you have time for a coffee?’ Riley asked, as she held open the door.

‘Just a quick one.’

Ash was going out with the twenty-three-year-old ‘wonder boy’ she’d met on Saturday evening. The text message he’d sent had surprised her − Ash had been convinced he was a one-night stand. But he was taking her out for dinner.

‘How did the meeting with Suzanne go?’ Ash asked.

‘Not too good.’ Riley brought the drinks over and sat down, then told Ash about the competition Suzanne suggested and the consequences if things didn’t improve.

‘What do you think it means?’ Ash queried. ‘They won’t close, will they?’

‘They can do what they like. But I’ll be so mad if they don’t give us an opportunity to do things our way. Between me, Sadie and Dan, we’ve been in that shop for nineteen years. We know the customers, what they like, what they don’t like. I’ll try anything once but if Suzanne comes in with ideas that won’t work, I’m going to have to say something. I can’t stand by and watch her ruin Chandler’s.’

‘You’ll be fine.’ Ash sounded confident. ‘You have been for this long. Don’t forget it’s down to you that the shop hasn’t closed before now.’

‘I wish you were right, but I’m nothing special.’

‘You’re the glue on their heels!’ Ash came out in her defence. ‘You made that shop what it is today. It might not be what you intended, but it survived because you motivated the staff.’

It was kind of Ash to say that, as well as Dan earlier that day, but Riley disagreed. They worked as a team and she hardly had to keep them under control. Occasionally there was a need to give them a telling off when they weren’t pulling their weight, or when Dan fooled around too much, but most of the time everything ran smoothly.

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