Misgivings and loss

Story contd.

Mary and I considered ourselves very fortunate to have created a business which fulfilled a service to mothers, many of whom were spending over the odds on their children’s education. It gave us an absorbing interest and a healthy financial return. We both officially worked in the shop two days a week, and put in as many extra hours as our various responsibilities required. On the whole our staff were excellent and seemed to enjoy working with us.

Mary and I had very different working backgrounds. She came from a well –off family, married and settled down to be a good housewife and mother. She had lots of hobbies, learning Italian, travelling, painting and photography – and was very talented at each of them. I felt the shop was one of her many interests and not necessarily a passion as it certainly was for me. I had been reared with a strong work ethic and the nursing training had imbued strict codes of behaviour.

For example: staff were staff and though we were friendly with them and took an interest in their lives and families, with a big get together once a year, there was a limit to how familiar one could be. In nursing it was frowned upon if we were friendly with any nurse in the sets above or below us. So when Mary started going on foreign holidays with Maud, a new member of staff and the only one I didn’t take to, I was a bit concerned. Maud herself had a sort of antique shop and at one time suggested she should use a corner of our shop to display some of her items. When Mary consulted me I gave a resounding ‘Not bloody likely!’ but of course, I had no say in choosing her holiday companions.

Sometimes it seemed there was a conspiracy to make life difficult: when we changed to decimalisation every garment in the shop (thousands and thousands) had to be re-labelled and our whole pricing system re- organised. Then Edward Heath brought in a 3- day week; we weren’t allowed to use electricity and sat at the desk in the freezing cold with just a candle for comfort. We were not allowed to work more that 3 days a week in our own shop. I came close to being a red hot anarchist.

Mary’s husband had retired and - at a loose end - offered to take over doing the books for us. But for me this was a labour of love, and also it was very much a time of women’s lib so I told Mary it was very kind of him to offer, but I preferred to continue doing it myself. I perfectly understood Mary’s wish to get her husband out of her hair (we married them for better or for worse – but not for lunch) but I didn’t want him in mine. Oh dear, I couldn’t help remembering Ellie’s words when she told us about the rift she had with her partner.

‘It works very well as long as you both want the same things but when you get successful and your ideas differ – that’s when the trouble starts.’

At the end of the summer # 1 son left for University and although I was proud and happy I also felt completely bereft and every time I went into his bedroom had a little weep. # 2 son was not academically inclined but was mad keen on music - guitars in particular. He valued his independence and planned to get a job and have his own place as soon as possible. The nest was getting emptier and William and I talked once more about having separate establishments.