‘Nay, that’s where you are wrong, lass. Archie, your grandfather, pulled his weight alongside his Lottie. They worked together, and he was her prop. She might have had the brass, but Archie was the rudder that steered your grandmother’s ship, keeping her straight. Rosie has as much right to be here than any one of us – she’s a true Atkinson.’ Bert grinned and patted Rosie on the shoulder. ‘Here, I’ve something for you: a bottle of your grandmother’s favourite perfume, “Devon Violets”. We couldn’t put it out on the shelf because the label is torn, and Jane here doesn’t like it, so I kept it to one side, thinking I’d give it to my old woman. But it’s more right for you, as violets were what your grandfather always picked his Lottie in the spring.’ Bert smiled and looked at the delight on Rosie’s face as she glanced at the little green bottle with a violet ribbon attached.

‘It stinks, I don’t know how anyone can wear it,’ growled Jane as she watched Rosie place the precious bottle in her pocket.

‘It can’t smell that badly – it’s one of our leading sellers, Miss Jane. Perhaps it is a matter of differing tastes.’ Bert grinned. ‘Now, I’d better get on with my work, but do mention me to your mother, Rosie, and tell her that I’m glad to see her back within these walls.’

‘I will, Mr Bannister, and thank you for the perfume.’ Rosie smiled.

‘No problem, lass. I know it’s gone to a good home, someone who will appreciate it.’ He threw a knowing look at Jane as he made his way down to the bottom of the warehouse.

‘I think old Bert is losing it a bit; all he talks about is the good old days. He never talks about the here and now, and it is always about Grandmama and when he first worked for her. I swear he doesn’t like me, although he seems to like you well enough, giving you some of Mother’s products to take home with you.’ Jane looked at Rosie, who was handling her precious gift.

‘I can give it back to you, if Bert shouldn’t have given me it. I don’t want to get him into trouble.’ Rosie touched the bottle and hoped that she could keep it.

‘No, Mama won’t mind. It’s only cheap stuff and, as I say, it stinks, despite what Bert says. I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing it.’ Jane put her nose in the air and walked through the shop floor, strutting like a prize peacock, ignoring the shop girls and smiling a sickly grin at the customers she knew. ‘We only attract the best customers at Atkinson’s; they deserve the best, and that is what I will definitely give them, once the store is mine.’