Miracle on Regent Street (58 page)

I
open the delivery door reluctantly. I can barely bring myself to look at Sam after what happened on Friday night. And he clearly feels the same
as he has his back to me and is busily unpacking the usual Monday morning delivery from the van. Instead of holding the door open for him, I prop it open and disappear down an aisle so I can get
back to sorting out my already ridiculously tidy shelves.

‘That’s everything, Evie,’ I hear him say at last, and I move a few items around needlessly before wiping my hands on my pencil skirt, smoothing my pin-curled hair and pulling
the neck bow on my emerald-green satin blouse and emerging into the stockroom. ‘I just need you to sign this.’ He holds out a clipboard in front of me and puts his other hand in the
pocket of his battered jeans. He looks tired, I think, like he hasn’t had much sleep. Well, ditto.

I reach out and take the clipboard and am surprised to find a newspaper on it, not a delivery report. It’s today’s
Daily Mail
.

‘What’s this?’ I query, looking up at him.

‘We’re in there,’ he says gruffly, nodding at me to open it. ‘Page seven.’

I turn the pages quickly until I come to our story. ‘Bloody hell, Sam, this is incredible!’ In my excitement I forget about what happened between us. But only for a moment.
‘Um, I mean, this is great,’ I finish flippantly. ‘Let’s hope it’s not too late,’ I add coolly, and give him back his clipboard without looking at him.

‘Evie . . .’ he pleads, stepping towards me with his arms outstretched. ‘About the other night. Just hear me out, won’t you?’

I put my hand up to stop him coming any closer. I don’t trust myself not to just melt into his embrace and I refuse to make an idiot of myself again. I’ve done that quite enough for
one lifetime.

‘It’s fine, Sam, honestly,’ I say firmly, whilst staring at the floor. ‘You made your situation quite clear.’ It really needs cleaning. I must get the mop out
later. There’s no point in Hardy’s exterior looking gleaming and new if the stockroom looks a mess. ‘Let’s just forget all about the other night, shall we? I mean,
it’s for the best. I’m still with Joel, anyway . . .’

‘But I was under the impression that was all over?’ Sam says looking confused.

‘No, no,’ I say defensively. ‘There’s just been a bit of a misunderstanding. We’re going to meet up to talk about it.’

This much is true. Joel called me this morning and asked what’s been going on. I told him I’d seen him talking to Rupert and Joel told me he could explain everything. Funny how men
keep saying that to me. Even my dad phoned this morning trying to say the same thing. I didn’t let him, either.

‘I’m sure we’ll work it out,’ I add, sticking my chin out and folding my arms. This bit is a lie. I don’t believe Joel and I’m pretty sure it won’t work
out. Apart from the fact that I’m not sure I want it to, how can I ever trust him again?

Sam sighs and stares at me for what feels like an uncomfortably long amount of time. ‘Well, if that’s what you want,’ he says finally.

‘It is, Sam, it is,’ I reply. ‘Friends?’ I say, offering my outstretched hand in a formal gesture.

Sam stares at me for a moment, his gaze burning my face like the sun. Then he turns and walks out the delivery door. I drop my outstretched hand sadly and get on with unpacking today’s
boxes, wondering how, for someone so tidy, I have the capacity to mess things up quite so monumentally.

‘Sarah? Sa-rah! Where are yooooou? I need you to listen to this!’

I’ve managed to have a couple of precious hours on my own, sorting through my thoughts and putting them into the relevant boxes marked in my head as I robotically unpack Hardy’s new
stock delivery. Carly’s voice is an unwelcome reminder of everything that is wrong with my life. I feel an uncharacteristic surge of annoyance at her presence in my haven. It’s
her
fault that I’ve ruined my chances with Sam and neglected my sister. If I hadn’t wanted to be like her, if I hadn’t tried so hard to change myself, then maybe none of
this would have happened. Sam and I would still be friends, my sister and I wouldn’t have to rebuild our relationship and I would have been there for Mum to help her face the mess that Dad
has put our family through. I tug at the bow on my blouse in frustration as I look down at myself in my stupid ‘Wardrobe’ clothes. I must look ridiculous, all dressed up like some retro
throwback just to unpack a load of boxes. Tomorrow I am going to go back to being plain old Sarah. I mean Evie. Maybe I’ll even get used to wearing those horrible black trousers and plain
white shirts again.

I just can’t face Carly this morning so I crouch in the aisle, and peek through the shelves as she looks around for me.

‘Sa-RAH!’ she calls again, heading straight for my aisle. Knowing I am about to be discovered anyway I scramble to my feet, feeling my stomach surge with anger.

‘For God’s sake!’ I shout, pulling down from the shelves stock that I’ve only just put away. ‘WHAT?’

Carly’s bemused face appears round the shelves and then the rest of her, and she looks at me in astonishment. She is back to her beautiful best, in tight, black cropped jeans and a
1940s-esque creamy pale floral chiffon shirt with a black blazer with pointed, statement shoulders over the top. Black high heels and red lips complete the look, with her hair pulled into a high
ponytail with an Elvis-style quiff sprayed into place at the front.

‘Are you OK?’ she asks in concern.

‘No I’m bloody NOT!’ I exclaim wildly. ‘I’m sick of this place and sick of people treating me like shit!’

‘Hey, Sarah, it’s OK’ she says, walking slowly towards me, trying to calm me down but she only makes things worse.

‘It’s not OK, don’t you SEE? GOD, that’s not even my name, Carly! I’m Evie, Evie Taylor!’ I shout.

Carly looks at me in complete astonishment and then edges away a little as I stomp around the stockroom putting away the stock that I’ve just pulled down in a fit of rebellion. Even in
this state I am unable to deal with having mess around me.

‘What do you mean, that’s not your name?’ she asks slowly.

I sigh, the anger draining from my body like air from a balloon. ‘Sarah was the name of the girl who worked in here
before
me,’ I explain.

I look at Carly for a moment and then shake my head, knowing that I can’t begin to make her understand. I walk to the stockroom door and turn round to face her as I put my hand on the
handle.

‘Don’t you get it, Carly? Everyone has always been so wrapped up in their own lives and problems in this bloody place that no one has ever noticed that I’m an entirely
different person! Not even you . . .’ I trail off and look her in the eye. ‘And you’re meant to be my best friend here.’

Then I open the door and walk out, slamming it shut behind me.

The store is quiet and dark, despite it being 9 a.m. on the last Monday before Christmas. Everyone should be here by now, preparing to open up. I’m trying to work out where everyone is
when the store’s lights are flicked on and I look around in astonishment as I see every single member of staff lined up in front of Hardy’s Christmas tree. Lily and Felix are standing
at the front of the line next to all the cleaners, Jane, Barbara, Guy, Becky from Handbags, Gwen and Jenny the Beauty girls, the Haberdashery sisters – everyone, in fact. Even Sam is standing
meekly amongst them.

Felix steps forward and clears his throat. His cheeks are all flushed with colour and his blue eyes are bright and animated. He looks the best I’ve ever seen him: at least ten years
younger and the grey, world-weary pallor has been replaced with excitement and enthusiasm.

‘We are gathered here today,’ he begins, then Lily nudges him gently. He shakes his head and clears his throat again. ‘What I meant to say is, dear Evie, we’ve all been
waiting for you this morning as we wanted to tell you in person how much we’ve appreciated everything you’ve done for us and the store. We hope you don’t mind, but Lily and I . .
.’ he pauses and slips his hand into hers,‘ . . . we thought it was time that all the staff knew just who was behind these wonderful makeovers. Everyone was desperate to know who the
Secret Elf was who’d worked so hard to save their jobs. But when Lily and I started talking about our Evie, they got very confused. They couldn’t understand who this girl was that we
were raving about. They said, “But there’s no one called Evie here,” and Lily and I said, “Yes, yes, there is,” and when we explained all your wonderful qualities;
like your ability to listen and advise without ever expecting anyone to ask about you, how you make people feel better about themselves simply by showing an interest, how you remember important
dates of everyone’s lives – birthdays, anniversaries – how you notice and compliment when someone has a new haircut or is wearing a new item of clothing. And most of all how you
listen to people’s problems without ever telling a soul. And that’s when everyone started thinking and talking at once.’ Felix smiles at me and then over at Jane. ‘First of
all Jane here explained how you helped her find her, ahem, how do I put it? Her va-va-voom, which she says has saved her marriage.’ Felix glances at Jane and she steps forward and does a
little shimmy as a ripple of laughter fills the room. ‘Then everyone else started explaining how much you’d helped them transform their lives over the past two years that you’ve
worked here. Hell, Evie, you’re even partly responsible for a baby . . .’ Jenny from Beauty steps forward and waves at me with one hand, whilst rubbing a newly sprouting belly with the
other. The IVF must’ve worked! I put my hand up to my mouth as I feel my eyes fill with tears.

Felix is still talking as Jenny steps back into line.

‘But then they said to Lily and me, “But she’s just the stockroom girl . . . ”’

Lily steps forward and continues the story. ‘So we said, but have you ever thought to ask her name? Or did you just think because she was tucked away in the stockroom that it didn’t
matter? Did you listen to her problems, ask about her weekend, notice if she was happy or upset, ask her anything about herself at all? Or did you just presume that she was just there to be a
sponge for your problems? Did you think because she worked behind the scenes that she didn’t really matter, she wasn’t a proper member of staff and therefore didn’t really give
her a second thought?’

The staff shuffle around uncomfortably and gaze at me apologetically.

Felix cuts in again. ‘And then we said, and all the time she’s been working hard to save your jobs and stop the roof from caving in over your heads.’

Everyone drops their head and I feel a wave of shame. I don’t want them to feel bad . . .

‘It’s fine,’ I say, stepping forward shyly. ‘Really, it is. I kind of enjoyed being anonymous . . .’

‘Well then, you’re mad,’ Guy pipes up. ‘A girl with your talents
should
stand out. None of us could have done what you have for this store. Or what you’ve
done for us,’ he adds gratefully. ‘Thank you for saving our jobs Sar— I mean . . . Evie.’ He pauses and studies me for a moment. ‘Your real name suits you, you know.
It’s kind of timeless. And timely . . .’

‘Christmas Evie!’ someone shouts, and everyone laughs and starts cheering my new nickname.

‘Christmas Evie! Christmas Evie!’

I laugh as I realize I have a whole new nickname to get used to.

Just then the stockroom door opens and Carly tumbles through it. She stops and stares at everyone calling my name and cheering and then looks at me. And then she looks around the store.

‘Y-you?’ she stutters. ‘You did all this? But when – how, why?’ She looks at all the staff. ‘And you all knew? You were all in on this? I should’ve
guessed!’

She turns back to me. ‘It’s
your
fault everyone hated me! You pretended you were helping me but – but . . .’ She staggers backwards. ‘And in there –
you were all high and mighty about the fact that I didn’t know your real name. What else have you been hiding, huh?’

I lower my head, I can’t tell her the rest. I know I should but I just can’t.

‘Well,’ she spits, ‘thanks for leaving me out of the party. Now I’m going to see what Rupert has to say about this . . .’ She turns and goes to stalk off but Lily
steps forward and grabs hold of her arm.

‘You’ll do no such thing, young lady,’ she says coldly. ‘You owe your job to this girl. Without these makeovers you’d have been let go a long time ago. And so would
most of us. Now show some respect to the rest of the staff who’ve worked hard to accept the changes in this store. We all need our jobs, even if you don’t, and if it hasn’t
escaped your notice, it’s nearly opening time.’ She claps her hands and raises her voice. ‘It’s the last shopping week before Christmas, people, and we have to take a
fortune. Hardy’s future depends on it!’

There are cheers and Lily silences everyone with her hand. ‘Now, Felix and I have come up with a plan to really draw the crowds in but it requires
everyone’s
help . .
.’

I look at Lily quizzically and she makes an apologetic face.

‘Sorry, Evie darling, we probably should’ve told you about our idea earlier.’ She turns back to Carly. ‘Now, dear, you’re either with us, or against us. So instead
of running off to tell Rupert who’s been doing the makeovers, how about you help us with the final push, hmm?’