‘I don’t know, Bert, she’s nothing but a worry at the moment. I can’t do right for doing wrong. What with her and her father, no wonder I’m showing signs of ageing.’ Isabelle sighed and looked at the old man across the warehouse table.

‘Tha’s nobbut a spring chicken yet, ma’am. Wait until you get to my age. It’ll not be long before I’m pushing up the daisies. Or so it would be, if I didn’t have this place to keep me going. Isn’t it grand having Miss Harriet back with us? It’s just like old times. How are you both getting on?’ Bert leaned on the table and looked across at Isabelle. His body ached, but he wasn’t going to let her know of his pain.

‘It’s lovely, Bert. I don’t have to explain anything to Harriet, as she knows exactly what to do, and the customers love her. She’s no problem. It’s Miss Clever-clogs I’m worried about; she seems so angry about everything. What with her and her father, I’m beside myself.’ Isabelle pushed a loose strand of her greying hair behind her ear.

‘It’ll settle down in a bit. Give it time, and folk will find something else to talk about other than your husband. As for Miss Jane, well, she hears and sees everything down here. Perhaps you could find her a job on the shop floor, or upstairs with you. I think she’s feeling a bit lost and neglected.’ Bert had watched the young lass becoming more and more discontented over the weeks, and knew Jane was eager to learn elsewhere in the shop.

‘I’ll see, Bert, but she should have the patience to learn from the bottom up. Perhaps in another week or two, once her father is back, she could help him, because he will need some assistance for a while.’ Isabelle turned to go.

‘She’s like her grandmother, that ’un. She will never be satisfied – a bit like yourself at the same age. But she’ll enjoy being with her father. And besides, I’ve learned her all I can, so let her be with him.’ Bert leaned over and winked. ‘She’ll keep an eye on him and all.’

‘Thank you, Bert, I hear what you are saying.’ Isabelle looked haughty as she walked out of the warehouse. Sometimes Bert did not know his place. Unfortunately, he was nearly always right in what he said.