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A True Love of Mine Page 10
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‘Oh, you live in York, do you?’ said Maud, showing more than a little curiosity. ‘I thought we hadn’t seen you around here before.’
‘Ah, but you will be doing quite soon,’ said the man, with a satisfied glint in his eye. ‘As a matter of fact, we are going to be neighbours. Well, pretty close, at any rate. I had better introduce myself, hadn’t I? I am Ralph Cunningham…and you, of course, must be Madame Grenville.’ He held out his hand to Maud who took hold of it with an embarrassed little laugh.
‘Oh…oh yes; I’m…Madame Grenville. And this is my assistant – my valued assistant – Bella.’
When the ‘how-do-you-dos’ had been uttered Ralph Cunningham, bowing a little over each hand, went on to tell them that he would, very shortly, be opening a shop in the vicinity.
‘Just round the corner, on Huntriss Row,’ he told them. ‘A perfumery. I already have such a shop in York, on Low Petergate, and I thought it was time I branched out and came to Scarborough.’
Maud was agog with interest. ‘Perfumes, is that what you’ll sell? Like…Yardley and Rimmel…?’
He smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, but not just perfumes. Beauty products of all kinds; soaps, powders, lotions… I hope we will be open and running in about two months’ time.’
‘So you will be living here?’ enquired Maud.
He pursed his lips. ‘Part of the time, maybe. I am not sure yet. My home is in York; I have a house there as well as the shop. But I am hoping, soon, to be able to leave my daughter in charge of the York shop; my daughter, Rosalind, for whom I have bought the parasol. So I shall divide my time between the two places, all being well. All I want now is a reliable assistant for Huntriss Row, possibly two…
‘Well now, ladies, I mustn’t take up any more of your valuable time. I have kept you long past closing time, haven’t I? My apologies.’ He smiled a little ruefully, but humorously, at Maud and then at Bella. A rather more lingering glance, or had she only imagined that? ‘Good afternoon to you then, ladies.’ He bowed as he placed his trilby hat on his head.
‘Good afternoon, sir,’ they chorused.
‘Well, what d’you make o’ that?’ said Maud as the door closed behind him. ‘He’s a right bobby-dazzler and no mistake, isn’t he?’
‘He certainly is,’ replied Bella, feeling quite weak at the knees.
Chapter Nine
William had made discreet enquiries from one and another of his business associates in the town, and he learnt that Bella Randall had settled down nicely to her position as assistant to Madame Grenville, otherwise Maud Green. Her employer, it was said, was very pleased with her. William had strolled up to the shop once or twice; then, quite nonchalantly and taking good care not to be observed, he had peeked through the window and had seen for himself how Bella smiled pleasantly at the customers and appeared to be the ideal sales assistant. He guessed that the two women, Maud and Bella, would get along well together, especially if the pretences and the barriers were broken down.
He doubted that Bella would tell her employer the truth about her former relationship with him; in fact he hoped and prayed fervently that she would not do so no matter how friendly she and Maud became. But he was aware of Maud Green’s aspirations to be a ‘somebody’ in the town, and he knew as well that Bella was seeking to take a step up the social ladder. Yes, Maud and Bella could well be an ideal partnership. The shop, however, was not one that was patronised by his wife, so he had no fear that Bella and Clara might meet.
He hoped, for Bella’s sake as well as his own, that she would find happiness, in her job and in her personal life too, and that she would be able to look forward instead of back. He had found deep contentment and fulfilment in his marriage to Clara. The birth of their first child, Patrick, in the June of 1886 had been a great joy to them and to his parents as well. They had all settled down comfortably together in the place that had long been the Moon family home. Will and Clara, although they hoped to have more children as time went on, saw no need to move to a place of their own. It was convenient to live at their workplace and it was what Isaac and Hannah wanted as well.
However when, in the spring of the following year the shop next door – a run-down second-hand clothes shop owned by an elderly couple – became vacant, Isaac and William decided it would be a good idea to purchase the property and extend their own premises. The business was thriving and they could do with more space in their living accommodation as well.
It was around the same time, towards the end of April, when William, walking along Newborough one afternoon on his way to visit a client, came face to face with Bella. She was arm in arm with a well-dressed man, tall and distinguished-looking, who wore an overcoat of fine woollen tweed and a trilby hat. Bella was smartly turned out too, he noticed, in the brief glimpse he caught of her, in a sky blue costume and a neat felt hat with a matching long blue feather; purchased from Madame Grenville, no doubt. He did not stop to speak, as Bella, after a brief smile, seemed anxious to walk on. William tipped his hat, murmuring ‘Good afternoon’, as he went on his way.
The man looked vaguely familiar, although William could not put a name to him and he was sure he had not met him through business or socially. Mid-forties, he surmised, well set up, reasonably handsome… It seemed that Bella might have done quite well for herself if the fact that they were arm in arm meant anything. He had not heard much about her recently and had not enquired, nor could he do so now without alerting suspicions as to why he should be interested in her.
The following day, however, as he walked along Huntriss Row, he caught sight of the same man entering the shop that was due to open the following week. William remembered then why his face had seemed familiar. There had been a photograph of him in the local evening paper a few days previously; and an article – William guessed it was more of an advertisement paid for by the man himself – stating that ‘Cunninghams’ would be open for business very shortly, stocking perfumes and beauty products of many kinds to suit women of taste and discernment. There would be items to suit all pockets, too, the article went on to say; but William, stopping now to look in the window, pondered that the ladies who shopped there would need to be quite well heeled.
He could see the man inside the shop lifting a cardboard box on to the mahogany counter, and there were other boxes of all sizes on the floor. There was a notice on the door which stated that the shop would be open for business on Monday, 2nd May; that was the following Monday. So that must be Ralph Cunningham, preparing for his grand opening.
The window was only partially dressed but William could see that the display, when completed, would be tasteful and eye-catching, but in a discreet way. A curtain of dark blue velvet hung in swathes at the back and covered the floor of the window in rippling folds. There were glass shelves on which were arranged just a few products but with room for many more. The few that were on show were of the highest quality. There was a large bottle of the famous 4711 eau de cologne with its distinctive label of blue and gold, and a smaller bottle of fluted glass with a spray attachment holding the same perfume; fancy boxes of soaps – rose, heliotrope and violet – by Vinolia; honey and flower brilliantine for shining hair; and gaily decorated tins of tooth powder.
William walked away lest he should be thought to be taking too much interest, although he did not think the man had noticed him. He hoped he would do well with his innovative plan. There was no other such shop in the town, at least William did not know of one, although chemists’ shops often sold perfumes and beauty products. A ‘perfumery’, he supposed would be the correct name for such a shop, like the ones that were found in London and the larger cities. The article had said that this Ralph Cunningham already had a similar shop in York, so it must he a thriving business for him to think of opening one in Scarborough.
He went further along the row to the gents’ outfitters where he had two white Irish linen shirts on order, one for himself and one for his father for funeral wear. Maybe he would pay a visit to Cunningham’s w
hen they opened on Monday, he mused. It would be nice to buy Clara a little present. It wasn’t her birthday, but he felt sure she would appreciate a bottle of perfume; she didn’t often treat herself to such luxuries and his lovely wife deserved the best that money could buy. They had a funeral on Monday, he remembered, in the morning, but he should be able to manage a visit to the shop in the afternoon.
When he arrived there again on the said day the window display was complete; a colourful array of bottles and boxes, fancy cartons and jars, all pleasing to the eye, but in a refined and tasteful manner. An advertisement for Pear’s soap in the bottom corner of the window stated that it had been recommended by Mrs Lillie Langtry for improving and preserving the complexion.
William smiled, his hand reaching out to press the latch on the door. Then he stopped, staring in surprise at the woman – the sales assistant – standing behind the counter. It was Bella. She was wrapping a small parcel in gold-coloured paper, at the same time talking and smiling with her customer. He did not think she had noticed him. He took a step back. Perhaps it might be not such a good idea after all to buy his wife a bottle of perfume. He would buy her a box of chocolates instead…
He wondered afterwards why he had not entered the shop. Why be afraid of encountering Bella again? It appeared, from what he had seen, that she was doing quite well for herself. She was an assistant in a shop of some quality and, although he could not be certain, it seemed as though she was on friendly terms – rather more than friendly, maybe? – with the owner of the establishment. William had decided, though, when they met up again the previous year, that the less dealings he had with Bella the better it would be. It might well be that their paths would cross again sometime. Possibly, at some future date, he might make a purchase at the shop; it would be a perfectly reasonable thing to do, to buy a gift for his wife’s birthday in September.
In the meantime, though, he had to admit that he was curious about Bella and her change in circumstances. She had been working for Madame Grenville for less than a year. Had they parted amicably, he wondered? Or had Maud Green been annoyed that her assistant had left so hastily? He kept his ear to the ground and learnt from the gossip of his business associates that Maud, in fact, was not too pleased at all. Men, it seemed, were just as keen to hear and to pass on titbits of scandal, whether they were true or not, as were their wives.
She had been left in the lurch, Maud declared, and after all that she had done for that ‘jumped-up madam’ who was ‘no better than she ought to be’. William had never understood that expression – to him it did not make any sense – but he knew it was meant to imply that the said person was a ‘trollop’, a woman of easy virtue. He was pretty sure that Maud Green had not learnt anything of Bella’s past history, certainly not about that which concerned himself. What she was referring to in her scathing comments about the woman who had let her down was the fact that Ralph Cunningham was a married man. He had a wife and family back home in York; and yet there he was setting up this Bella Randall in a love nest above the shop, and visiting her there as bold as brass!
The attraction between Bella and Ralph had been instantaneous. She could not stop herself from thinking about him after their first encounter in the shop. But he was a married man – hadn’t he just admitted to having a grown-up daughter? – so she determined to put all thoughts of him out of her mind at once. But that was easier said than done, especially as he came into the shop again a few days later. This time Bella was on her own, Maud having gone out on an errand.
‘Good afternoon…Bella,’ he greeted her. ‘I am sorry to be so presumptuous, but I do not know your other name, and I heard Madame Grenville address you as Bella. It means beautiful, as I am sure you know; a very suitable name for a lovely lady.’
‘Miss Randall,’ she replied, without smiling. She was not going to be influenced by such smooth talk. ‘My name is Arabella Randall. So, how may I help you…Mr Cunningham?’
He smiled at her. ‘I have been thinking about the conversation we had the other day. I was telling you about the shop I will be opening round the corner, and you showed such an interest…’ Bella recalled that it had been Maud who was agog with curiosity and asking all the questions. She, Bella, had been interested too, of course, but she had been busy wrapping up the parasol and had not said a word. ‘So I was wondering,’ he went on, ‘if you would like to come round and see for yourselves something of what I am planning to do. I am sure our two businesses could be beneficial to one another. We are both seeking to beautify women, in one way or another, are we not?’
She nodded gravely. ‘That is true. I will tell Madame Grenville. I am sure she would be most interested in your plans.’
‘Where is Madame?’ he enquired. ‘I…er…noticed you were on your own this afternoon.’
‘She has gone out on an errand of some importance,’ replied Bella. She knew that Maud was meeting her husband at the nearby Rowntree’s furniture store, where they were to choose some chandeliers for the hall and landings of their already impressive home. ‘She has asked me to lock up if she is not back before closing time.’ She glanced at the wall clock. ‘And it looks to me as though she will not be back.’
‘Well then, in that case…’ He was looking at her expectantly, ‘would you like to come round now, Miss Randall, on your own? I will wait whilst you lock up and see to things here. That is, if you would like to come? And then, perhaps Madame could come some other time?’
‘I am sure that would be perfectly in order,’ Bella replied, keeping up what she knew was just a pretence of formality. She guessed that he had known all too well that she was on her own and had been for the last half-hour or so. ‘But there are ten minutes to go yet before closing time, and Madame insists on keeping open till the very last minute. You go on ahead, Mr Cunningham, back to your shop, and I will follow when I have finished what I have to do here.’
‘Yes, of course,’ he agreed. ‘I understand.’ As a shop owner himself he would be aware of the safety precautions that one had to take. There was no safe in the shop, as there were in some of the larger premises, but the day’s takings were placed in a strong tin cash box which was locked with a key. Maud took it home with her every evening – a cab came to collect her at the end of each day – but today Bella would leave it in a secret place in the stockroom and Archie would call and collect it later. That was the arrangement whenever Bella was left in charge. She was gratified that her employer trusted her and she had never been tempted to steal so much as a farthing. Whatever sins she might be guilty of, stealing was not one of them.
She crossed her fingers, hoping that Maud would not return before half past five, and her luck held. She tidied up, hid the cash box, pulled down the window blind and, after locking the door behind her, hurried round the corner to Huntriss Row.
‘Do you live over the shop, Bella?’ Ralph asked her as he welcomed her into his premises; he had been waiting at the door for her. ‘By the way, you don’t really mind if I call you Bella, do you? And you must call me Ralph… I am sorry if I seemed rather forward, but that is how I have been thinking of you as Bella ever since we met.’ His smile was sincere now, with no hint of boldness, and she smiled back.
‘No, I don’t mind…Ralph,’ she replied. ‘Not at all… Do I live over the shop, you asked. No, I don’t. I have rooms in Queen Street. I’m quite comfortable there; well…it’s adequate, I suppose; it will do for now. I agree that it would be handy to live over the shop, but Maud – that’s Madame Grenville,’ she corrected herself, ‘already had tenants living there. A middle-aged couple, and she can’t move them; well, it wouldn’t be fair to try. She says she feels easier in her mind with somebody living over the shop. They would hear if there were any intruders, and Mr Evans – that’s the lodger – he’s a great big fellow; he works down at the harbour an’ he’d be a good match for anybody who was up to no good…
‘Mmm… It all looks very nice, Ralph.’ She looked around admiringly at the glossy mahogany
counter with glass shelves beneath it, the blue carpeting on the floor, the wallpaper of Regency stripes in pale blue and gold, and at the boxes lined up on the floor and on the shelves behind the counter. ‘Have you got anybody to help you to unpack this lot?’
‘No…not yet,’ he replied. ‘I will be advertising for staff, of course. For a suitable lady to be in charge, and possibly a younger girl to help out. There’s a lot to be done yet; I would like the window dressing in blue velvet…’ He waved his hands expressively, ‘to match the carpet, and the goods on display in the window will be of the best that we can offer, and not too many of them. I think it is better to show a little rather than a lot. A cluttered window only confuses the eye.’
‘That is just what Madame says,’ agreed Bella.
‘So I have noticed,’ he replied. ‘Your window is a perfect model of elegance. And I am sure you must have had a lot to do with that?’ He glanced at her questioningly.
‘Yes, I help to dress the window,’ she answered. ‘Of course Madame has taught me a lot.’
‘Have you worked in similar shops before?’ he asked. ‘Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I have a feeling you were not from these parts originally. Am I right?’
‘Aye, I’m from Northumberland,’ she smiled, exaggerating for a moment the accent that she hoped she had almost lost. She was not too pleased that her manner of speech had betrayed her. ‘I worked in shops up there, a few different sorts of shops.’ There was no need to go into that part of her life that she had put behind her. ‘But I’m quite settled in Scarborough now. It’s a good place to live.’
‘And you are happy with…Madame Grenville?’
‘Yes, perfectly happy; for the moment, that is.’