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.Call me Marjorie.And you’re…?”“Polly.”“Where did you work, Polly?”“In Manchester, at Debenham’s.” She’d picked Manchester because of its distance from London and because she knew there was a Debenham’s there.She’d seen a photo of it gutted in a raid in December.But it would be just her luck to have Marjorie say, “Really? I’m from Manchester.”She didn’t.She said, “Do you know how to write up sales?”Polly did.She also knew how to do sums, use carbon paper, work an adding machine, sharpen pencils, and every other possible task Research and Mr.Dunworthy—who believed historians should be prepared for every possible contingency—thought a shopgirl might conceivably need to know.The money had been the most difficult to learn.Really, their monetary system had been insane, and she’d expected that to give her the most trouble at work, but Marjorie told her all of Townsend Brothers’ cash transactions were handled by the financial office upstairs.All Polly had to do was place the money and the bill in a brass tube, send it shooting along a system of pneumatic chutes, and it came back moments later with the correct change.I needn’t have learned all those guineas and half-crowns and farthings, she thought.Marjorie showed her how to bill a sale to a customer’s account and write up a delivery order, which drawers the different sizes of gloves and silk and cotton lisle and woolen stockings were in, and how to line the hosiery boxes with a single sheet of tissue, lay the stockings in them, then wrap the box in brown paper, folding the ends under and tying them with string from a large bolt.That was something neither Research nor Mr.Dunworthy had thought of, but it didn’t look too difficult.But when she made her first sale—Marjorie had been right, it had picked up; by eleven, there were half a dozen women shoppers, one of whom, an elderly lady, told Polly, “When I saw what Hitler’d done to Oxford Street, I decided to buy a new pair of garters, just to show him!”—she made a complete botch of the wrapping.Her ends were uneven, her folds crooked, and when she tried to wrap the string around it, the wrapping came completely undone.“I’m so sorry, madam.It’s my first day,” she said, trying again, and this time she managed to hold the parcel together, but her knot was so loose the string slid off one end.Marjorie came to her rescue, discarding the tangled string and starting with a new length, which she deftly tied around the parcel, and after the customer had departed, she said kindly, “I’ll take over the wrapping till you’ve got the hang of it.” But it was clearly something she should already know how to do, so in between customers Polly practiced on an empty box, without much success.At noon the “very particular” Miss Snelgrove arrived.Polly hastily jammed the string she’d been practicing with into her pocket and tucked in her blouse.Marjorie hadn’t been exaggerating about her.“I expect the highest standards from those under me, a polite manner, and neatness of both work and appearance,” she told Polly, looking coldly at her navy blue skirt.“Regulation wear for our shop assistants is a white blouse, a plain black skirt—”I told Wardrobe that, Polly thought disgustedly.“—and black, low-heeled shoes.Have you a black skirt, Miss Sebastian?”“Yes, ma’am,” she said.Or I will as soon as I check in with Mr.Dunworthy tonight to tell him I have a position.“How long have you been in London?”“I arrived last week.”“You’ve experienced air raids then?”“Yes, ma’am.”“I cannot afford to have girls working under me who are nervy or easily frightened,” she said sternly.“Townsend Brothers’ employees must project an air of calm and courage at all times.”Wanted: shop assistant, Polly thought.Neat, polite, cool under fire.“Show me your sales book,” Miss Snelgrove commanded, and proceeded to show Polly everything Marjorie had already shown her, including how to wrap a parcel.She was even more expert at it than Marjorie, and more exacting.“You must not waste string,” she said, tying the parcel tightly.“Now you do it.”Marjorie, over at the lingerie counter, looked at Polly in horror.Wardrobe won’t need to find me a black skirt, Polly thought.After I show her, I won’t have a job, and the air-raid siren went.Polly had never been so glad to hear anything in her life, even though Townsend Brothers’ shelter turned out to be an airless basement room with pipes running along the walls and nowhere to sit.“Chairs and cots are reserved for customers,” Marjorie told her, and Miss Snelgrove said sternly, “No leaning.Stand up straight.”Polly hoped the raid would be a long one, but it was only half an hour before the all clear went.By then, though, it was Polly’s luncheon break, and then Miss Snelgrove’s, and shortly after that Mr.Witherill brought down “Miss Doreen Timmons, who will take over Scarves and Handkerchiefs,” and Miss Snelgrove had to show her the procedures.And all of Polly’s customers wanted their purchases delivered, so she was saved from any further wrapping.But obviously she couldn’t count on new employees or air raids tomorrow.She’d have to perfect her wrapping skills in Oxford.That’s one advantage of time travel, she thought, starting home from work.If it takes a week to master it, I can do it and still be on time to work tomorrow
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