deep breath she folded it up small, pulled up her skirt, tucked it into her suspender belt and looked in the mirror. There was no telltale bulge, but for safety's sake once she was back behind her counter she slipped on her old cardigan and did it up.
Suzanne appeared again, raising her eyebrow questioningly.
Camellia nodded and patted her stomach.
'I've got one of those,' Suzanne whispered, pointing out a white botany wool sweater displayed on a dummy. 'We'll go out together.'
The bell rang to clear the customers from the store, the security men came forward to lock the doors and the assistants put the white linen dustsheets over their counters. Then at last the second bell rang which meant they could take their till drawers up to accounts and leave.
By the time she reached the cloakroom Camellia was sweating and shaking. Suzanne was chatting to another girl as she put on a navy beret. She didn't seem the least bit nervous.
'Are you staying here all night?' Carol from the beauty counter touched Camellia's elbow. 'Come on, let's go and get a cup of coffee in the Wimpy before we go home. I'm dying for a sit down and a fag.'
Miss Puckridge was standing next to Wilf, the security officer, by the staff entrance. As always she had that superior look. One by one the girls trooped by Wilf, holding out their opened handbags. Suzanne was in front of Camellia, Carol behind her.
'Goodnight, sweetie,' Suzanne clucked Wilf under the chin, when it was her turn. 'No kiss tonight?'
'Get on home, you hussy,' he growled, his dark eyes twinkling.
Camellia was next. She felt sick now, sure he would see 'Thief written on her face. Wilf wasn't forbidding – he was sixty if he was a day and very jolly – but that would make it worse somehow if he suspected her. But he casually glanced in her bag, then moved onto Carol's behind her.
'Miss Norton!'
Camellia felt the blood drain from her face at the shrill call from Miss Puckridge.
'I think you've forgotten something, Miss Norton,' she added and Camellia's legs turned to rubber.
Miss Puckridge was nobody's fool, even though they all made jokes about her. She heard and saw everything that went on in the store and had been known to sack girls instantly for just being late. The thought crossed Camellia's mind that she'd been set up by Suzanne to discover if she was honest.
'Forgotten something?' Camellia repeated weakly. Her heart was thumping and every sweat gland in her body seemed to open to ooze out moisture.
'Your jeans.' The older woman smiled and held out a Peter Robinson's bag. 'Some of you girls would forget your head if it wasn't screwed on tight.'
All Camellia could manage was a faint smirk as she took the bag and made a dash for the door.
'So did you get anything today?' Suzanne asked Carol once they were seated in the Wimpy Bar. To Camellia's surprise Carol fumbled under the table and pulled out a soft leather handbag.
Camellia wasn't only shocked that the glamorous Carol was capable of stealing too, but that she'd had the cheek to nick something from her counter, presumably right under her nose. 'But that's new stock,' she said. 'I only priced them today.'
'And it's not an easy thing to stick in your knickers,' Carol giggled. 'It prickled like hell. I would've told you earlier, but Suzanne hadn't told me then that you'd joined our merry band.'
Now it was Suzanne's turn to fumble under her coat. She pulled out her sweater and folded it neatly before slipping it into her handbag.
Camellia shamefacedly pulled out her top. 'I nearly wet myself when Miss Puckridge called me,' she admitted, smoothing over the top and tucking it into the bag with her jeans. I've never nicked anything before.'
'I reckon it's our due.' Carol lit up a cigarette and sat back in her seat. 'They pay us shit-all, expect us to be smartly dressed yet the discount we get on clothes is hardly worth having. I feel I'm just taking a rise.'
Camellia privately thought that thirty per cent off the jeans
Suzanne appeared again, raising her eyebrow questioningly.
Camellia nodded and patted her stomach.
'I've got one of those,' Suzanne whispered, pointing out a white botany wool sweater displayed on a dummy. 'We'll go out together.'
The bell rang to clear the customers from the store, the security men came forward to lock the doors and the assistants put the white linen dustsheets over their counters. Then at last the second bell rang which meant they could take their till drawers up to accounts and leave.
By the time she reached the cloakroom Camellia was sweating and shaking. Suzanne was chatting to another girl as she put on a navy beret. She didn't seem the least bit nervous.
'Are you staying here all night?' Carol from the beauty counter touched Camellia's elbow. 'Come on, let's go and get a cup of coffee in the Wimpy before we go home. I'm dying for a sit down and a fag.'
Miss Puckridge was standing next to Wilf, the security officer, by the staff entrance. As always she had that superior look. One by one the girls trooped by Wilf, holding out their opened handbags. Suzanne was in front of Camellia, Carol behind her.
'Goodnight, sweetie,' Suzanne clucked Wilf under the chin, when it was her turn. 'No kiss tonight?'
'Get on home, you hussy,' he growled, his dark eyes twinkling.
Camellia was next. She felt sick now, sure he would see 'Thief written on her face. Wilf wasn't forbidding – he was sixty if he was a day and very jolly – but that would make it worse somehow if he suspected her. But he casually glanced in her bag, then moved onto Carol's behind her.
'Miss Norton!'
Camellia felt the blood drain from her face at the shrill call from Miss Puckridge.
'I think you've forgotten something, Miss Norton,' she added and Camellia's legs turned to rubber.
Miss Puckridge was nobody's fool, even though they all made jokes about her. She heard and saw everything that went on in the store and had been known to sack girls instantly for just being late. The thought crossed Camellia's mind that she'd been set up by Suzanne to discover if she was honest.
'Forgotten something?' Camellia repeated weakly. Her heart was thumping and every sweat gland in her body seemed to open to ooze out moisture.
'Your jeans.' The older woman smiled and held out a Peter Robinson's bag. 'Some of you girls would forget your head if it wasn't screwed on tight.'
All Camellia could manage was a faint smirk as she took the bag and made a dash for the door.
'So did you get anything today?' Suzanne asked Carol once they were seated in the Wimpy Bar. To Camellia's surprise Carol fumbled under the table and pulled out a soft leather handbag.
Camellia wasn't only shocked that the glamorous Carol was capable of stealing too, but that she'd had the cheek to nick something from her counter, presumably right under her nose. 'But that's new stock,' she said. 'I only priced them today.'
'And it's not an easy thing to stick in your knickers,' Carol giggled. 'It prickled like hell. I would've told you earlier, but Suzanne hadn't told me then that you'd joined our merry band.'
Now it was Suzanne's turn to fumble under her coat. She pulled out her sweater and folded it neatly before slipping it into her handbag.
Camellia shamefacedly pulled out her top. 'I nearly wet myself when Miss Puckridge called me,' she admitted, smoothing over the top and tucking it into the bag with her jeans. I've never nicked anything before.'
'I reckon it's our due.' Carol lit up a cigarette and sat back in her seat. 'They pay us shit-all, expect us to be smartly dressed yet the discount we get on clothes is hardly worth having. I feel I'm just taking a rise.'
Camellia privately thought that thirty per cent off the jeans
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