Beyond the Sunset Page 29

  In the parlour Pandora suddenly remembered Leo. ‘About the money spent on rescuing Leo. My sisters and I fully approve of that. He was such a kind fellow and so good with horses. His face was badly bruised when he first came to us because he’d been shockingly beaten. And we couldn’t have managed without him on the journey.’

  Ralph nodded, smiling benignly. ‘It’s your money, my dear lady, I just thought you’d like to know that the accounts are in order. You can see them if you wish.’

  ‘No, thank you. I trust Zachary absolutely.’

  He trusted the young man, too, Ralph realised, and always had. ‘Then if that’s settled, we’ll move on to the other thing I came to discuss with you, money. I shall, if you approve, provide you with a valuation of all the assets your uncle left to the four of you, then help you work out ways to give your sisters at least part of their share. I presume you’re not intending to sell the shop? No, I thought not, given your husband’s great experience in that area. So once we’ve sorted Prebble out, we’ll discuss how to get the money to your sisters.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘And finally, you’ll need some money for your own daily use. In addition, if you’ll tell me which shops you wish to patronise in Outham, I’ll open accounts there for you.’

  He paused, amused by her startled expression. Remembering what he’d heard about the intelligent Blake sisters, he prompted, ‘The bookshop, perhaps? And a dressmaker? My sister suggested Miss Poulton’s. You’ll find her very polite and prompt, and I’m told she has an eye for what suits a client. As for groceries, just give Prebble lists of what you need from the shop or send Dot round and her purchases can be put on your account. Have you any idea how much money you’ll require for your personal daily needs?’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t imagine having enough money to do what I want. But you’re right. I shall be patronising the bookshop as well as the library. I think I’ll go out and buy a book this very afternoon, to celebrate. And I badly need some new clothes.’

  He pulled out a small leather pouch and handed it over to her. ‘Mr Featherworth thought twenty pounds to begin with. Is that enough?’

  He watched her eyes widen and saw her swallow hard before she clutched the pouch to her bosom. She didn’t say anything, seemed too stunned by it all to speak. ‘If it’s all right with you, we’ll continue to have Prebble pay the takings to us until things are settled, one way or the other.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I don’t want to deal with him. And whatever happens, whether you trap him or not, I won’t have him as manager.’

  ‘You won’t need him with Zachary Carr by your side.’ Ralph was amused by her blush. He took his leave, well satisfied with his day’s work. If anyone could figure out how to trap Prebble, it was Zachary, who had worked in the shop since he was a lad.

  What was there about Prebble that made him feel so suspicious? He was hard-working, went to church regularly, spoke politely, and yet . . . He shook his head, baffled.

  Zachary was at the shop on time the following morning, amused to see that the other shopmen had got there earlier than they used to and were already at work. Prebble would no doubt enjoy keeping them on their toes, squeezing extra hours of work out of them, he was sure, because he’d always treated the younger shop lads in the same way. Mr Blake had had to speak to him once or twice about it.

  Zachary went through into the packing area, hanging his spare apron up on its old peg. He didn’t join the others in the shop to take the covers off, dust and set things out, but took the time to study the packing area. There were one or two small changes but he was pleased to see it had been kept as clean as ever. Harry’s voice made him turn round.

  ‘There you are! I’d like you to come in a bit earlier in future.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So that we can get the shop in perfect order before we open.’

  ‘We always managed that before without adding extra hours to an already long day.’

  ‘Well, I’m manager now and I do things a little differently.’

  The shop’s bell rang and Harry darted across to peer through the narrow pane of glass in the door that led into the public area. ‘Mrs Butley’s cook. Go and see what she wants.’

  Zachary found the tone rude, but said nothing. He knew and liked the cook, so was happy to attend to her.

  In the shop the rosy-faced older woman beamed at him. ‘I heard you were back from foreign parts, Mr Carr.’

  ‘I am indeed, Mrs Jarrod. And what can I get for you this morning?’

  ‘My mistress has taken a fancy to a boiled egg for breakfast and I used the last one yesterday in a cake.’

  He’d guess the general maid had seen him walking to work and the cook had been despatched to try to find out any gossip she could for her mistress.

  He took her bowl and walked across to where the eggs were kept. ‘Half a dozen?’

  ‘Yes, please. What was Australia like?’

  ‘Very different from Outham. I saw kangaroos hopping about and parrots flying in the gardens. It was winter there and it rained very hard, but it never gets cold enough for frost or snow. In the summer it’s extremely hot, they tell me, and the air feels just as if you’d opened an oven door.’

  ‘Just fancy! Kangaroos. I’ve seen pictures of them at a lantern show. Strange creatures, aren’t they? But no use for meat or milk.’

  He smiled. ‘I ate kangaroo meat several times and it was delicious. Quite a strong flavour and not fatty.’

  ‘I’d like to try it, I must admit. I – um, gather that only one of the sisters came back with you. Are the others coming later?’ She looked at him expectantly.

  He didn’t intend to gossip about Pandora or her sisters, so all he said was, ‘That’s up to them.’

  After she’d left there was a stream of customers for small purchases, many of them clearly there to talk to him. Word of his return had spread quickly, as news always did in Outham. He sometimes wondered if news wafted through the air.

  ‘You say very little about the other sisters,’ Harry said later as Zachary went to have his midday meal. ‘Why didn’t they come back?’

  ‘It’s not my business to discuss that.’ He looked down at the plate of food provided for him and lifted the top piece of bread from his sandwich. ‘That’s mainly gristle. I’ll go and get myself some ham scraps.’

  Harry glared at him. ‘It’s up to me to decide what the staff eat. I’m not wasting the good stuff on them. That ham’s here to make a profit for the owners.’

  ‘Mr Blake believed his staff should be properly fed.’ Zachary went into the shop with his plate, finding plenty of trimmings of the sort that they sold off more cheaply and taking enough to refill his sandwich.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Harry snapped as he came back in.

  ‘Yes. But you wouldn’t want me to eat gristle, I’m sure.’ He sat down and began on the sandwich, wishing the other would leave him in peace. This was ridiculously petty behaviour.

  To Zachary’s relief, after hovering for a moment or two longer, Prebble went into the office, muttering something about having his dinner while things were quiet. He shut the door, something old Mr Blake would never have done, except when his wife was on the prowl.

  Why had Harry done that? Was he hiding something in the office?

  During the afternoon Zachary was getting some new wrapping paper down from the hall cupboards when the new door at the far end opened and Pandora came out of the living quarters.

  They both stopped to smile at one another.

  ‘How are you?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m well. I must say you look a lot better.’

  ‘I feel it.’

  Harry opened the door at the far end of the hallway. ‘Ah, Miss Blake! I thought I heard your voice.’ He frowned at Zachary. ‘They’re waiting for that wrapping paper in the shop, Carr. I’ll attend to Miss Blake.’

  Zachary winked at Pandora and left them alone.

  Immediately Pandora began to feel u
neasy. Prebble came towards her and stopped right next to her, standing just a bit too close and eyeing her up and down in a way she detested.

  ‘How can I help you?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t need any help. I’ve come to explore.’

  ‘Let me show you round.’

  ‘No, thank you. I can find my own way. I’ll ask if I want to know anything.’

  ‘I’m sure you’d find it more interesting if I was there to answer your questions straight away.’

  She drew herself up. ‘Mr Prebble, I neither need nor want your company. You’re employed to run our shop, not fuss over me.’

  She heard him suck in air, his mouth half-open in surprise, as if her sharp retort had taken him by surprise. He didn’t move for a moment or two, then he turned away from her. But he’d forgotten about the glass fronts to the cupboards and they reflected his face quite clearly from where she was standing. The expression she saw once his back was turned to her was vicious, there was no other word for it: vicious.

  She didn’t move on after he’d gone back into the shop, but began to study her surroundings, which were quite new to her. The glass-fronted cupboards in the corridor contained various sorts of wrapping paper, big rolls of it, brown, white, waxed, and boxes of paper packets of various sizes and colours. There were other necessities like balls of string, pencils, labels and boxes of what looked like smaller office items.

  When she’d seen all she wanted, she went into the packing area. Here a youth was weighing out rice into packets, folding the tops carefully and stacking them in neat rows. He stood up at once when he saw her.

  ‘Do sit down.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Blake.’

  ‘Do you put these packets into the shop now?’

  ‘No, we stack them on the shelves here ready for when they’re needed. We do jobs like this in slack times.’

  ‘Don’t let me stop you working. I’m just having a look round.’

  She began to move slowly along the shelves, studying their contents. Beyond the packing area was a big store room. She’d never seen flour and sugar in such huge sacks. There were wooden crates containing jars of jam, some of the modern tinned food, including even the novelty of tinned meat, though she’d heard it wasn’t very nice. Still, any hungry family would welcome it, she was sure.

  In fact, Blakes supplied almost every necessity for feeding a household, though people usually bought fresh fruit and vegetables from the market or from a greengrocer.

  She found steps that led down into a cellar so went carefully down these. Some daylight came in from a large barred window that led into a light well about two yards by one. A grating was set into the footpath above this. It was much cooler down here and she found butter, cheese and eggs, draped with dampened muslin to keep them fresh.

  When she went upstairs, she tried another door and found herself in the office.

  She distinctly heard the lad packing rice gasp in shock as she went inside. It was furnished with a roll-top desk, a comfortable chair, and shelves containing ledgers and boxes of papers. She sat down on the chair her uncle must have used, feeling sad all over again at his untimely end.

  The door opened and Harry stopped in the doorway. ‘Oh! I thought you’d gone back into the house.’

  His expression of surprise looked false to her and she guessed that the lad had run to fetch him. ‘No. I’m still familiarising myself with the shop and how it’s run. I’m exploring the office now.’

  ‘My dear Miss Blake, there’s no need for a lovely young woman like yourself to bother with business matters. I can tell you anything you wish to know and you can trust me to keep the paperwork in order, so—’

  ‘But how can I learn how our shop is run, and help with that, if I don’t understand what you do here?’

  He blinked at her in shock and moved closer to the desk. ‘But surely you won’t be involved in running the shop?’

  ‘I certainly shall. When I’m more familiar with how things are done, I intend to serve in the shop sometimes, too.’

  His shocked expression changed to utter horror. ‘But women don’t serve in shops like this one. Believe me, Miss Blake, the customers wouldn’t expect it and some might dislike it. And there’s no need! I can do all that’s necessary.’

  ‘As the owner, I should be foolish not to familiarise myself with every facet of running this shop. And the customers will soon grow used to me serving them, I’m sure.’

  ‘But the other ladies in the town don’t work in their husband’s businesses. There’s a lot of mental arithmetic involved, too, and—’

  ‘I can add up as well as you, I’m sure.’

  His sneering expression at that remark showed a disdain for women she’d met in other men and that further annoyed her.

  ‘A woman as lovely as you will soon find a husband, I’m sure.’

  She hated his compliments. He was standing very close to her now, and the way he was looking at her made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

  ‘And he’ll be a very lucky man,’ he added, with a soulful look.

  He couldn’t mean . . . Ugh! She’d never marry a man like him. Never! Something about him made her shudder.

  He laid one hand on her arm and only the memory of Mr Dawson’s request not to upset him stopped her from throwing his arm off violently. She pulled hers back, though.

  ‘If Carr told you that you needed to work in the shop, he was wrong!’ Harry said earnestly.

  ‘Zachary said the same as you and I gave him the same answer. It’s my shop – mine and my sisters’, I mean – and I want to be a part of what goes on here. I wasn’t bred to be idle, Mr Prebble, and I don’t intend to start now.’

  She walked out of the office, hating the fact that he didn’t move and she couldn’t help touching him as she passed.

  When Zachary touched her, she loved it.

  Oh, she wished this charade weren’t necessary, wished it more desperately with each day that passed.

  From the other side of the glass pane in the connecting door, Zachary watched Pandora hurry out of the office, face flushed. She stopped to shudder, then squared her shoulders and came towards the shop. He swung the door open, smiling at her.

  ‘I can’t stand him,’ she said in a low voice.

  He was startled. ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when we’re alone. At the moment there don’t seem to be any customers in, so could you please show me how the shop is organised?’

  ‘Of course.’ He began the tour, explaining why the shelves were arranged in a certain way, showing her the tools kept under the counter, including a bowl of water for rinsing the hands quickly, and the marble slab at one end of the counter for cutting pieces of butter and cheese, or slicing ham.

  Partway through the tour Harry came out of the back and stopped in the doorway, scowling at them. After a moment he walked across. ‘I’ll see to Miss Blake now, Carr.’

  Pandora swung round. ‘I asked Zachary to show me round and I’m happy with how he’s doing it. Don’t let me keep you from your work, Mr Prebble.’

  She was magnificent, but unfortunately her dislike for Harry was only too clear. She wasn’t good at dissembling, as Zachary had already found out.

  When she left the shop, he went into the back room to fetch some more packets of flour and stopped for a moment, puzzled. There had been one or two more packets of flour on this shelf, he was certain of it because he’d always had an excellent memory for details. Old Mr Blake had often complimented him on that.

  Where had the flour gone? Not into the shop, that was certain.

  Frowning, he put some more one-pound and two-pound bags into a basket and carried it into the shop to fill the shelves. When he took the basket back to the preparation area, he stood still, surveying the piles of goods on the shelves one by one, committing them to memory.

  Then the shop doorbell rang and he went back to serve a customer and speak yet again about his journey to Australia.

  Aft
er carefully locking the connecting door, Pandora went back up to the parlour, thoughtful now. She found Alice sitting with some embroidery.

  ‘How did your visit to the shop go?’

  ‘It was – interesting. Or it would have been.’

  Alice raised one eyebrow.

  ‘Prebble would keep fussing over me, but he didn’t want me to look inside the office. I wonder why. You’d think he owned the shop, not me.’

  ‘I find him officious and patronising.’

  ‘Yes. But there’s something else about him. Something . . . repulsive. I can’t bear him to touch me.’

  ‘He touched you?’

  ‘Patted my arm. And I had to brush past him to get out of the office.’ She shuddered.

  ‘I can’t stand him either. Well, it’s more than dislike. He frightens me.’ Alice explained about the intruders. ‘I’ve always thought it was him. Or else he was behind it. He didn’t like me coming to live here, was bossing Dot about before and taking some of the money meant to go on her food. Just a bit here and there, but it mounts up. He said he was saving it for the new owners and produced a cash box containing the exact amount, so Ralph – Mr Dawson couldn’t accuse him of wrongdoing.’

  ‘Horrid little weasel. I can’t understand why Mr Dawson appointed him as manager.’

  ‘Would you have preferred Prebble to come and find you in Australia?’

  Pandora looked at her in horror. ‘No! I suppose after my uncle was killed, there was no one else left to run the emporium. Zachary loves it. He’d make a good manager.’

  ‘The customers certainly prefer him. While he was away I heard a lot of people say it was more pleasant shopping here when he was around, how they used to wait to be served by him.’

  ‘Zachary’s a lovely man.’

  Alice smiled. ‘And you’re fond of him.’

  Pandora couldn’t deny it. ‘Very. But he hasn’t got any money and I have the shop.’

  ‘Do you love him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then fight for him. Don’t let anything stop you. I didn’t fight and I lost the man I loved when I was younger because of my father’s interference.’