A Debt of Honour – Episode 33


Shauna and her children and Neil, the man she is searching for. The main characters from A Debt of Honour

Shauna had been raised to forget her problems through working hard.

Any difficulties usually faded as she threw herself into work in the shop.

It was a cure which worked by substituting one set of problems for another.

Not this time. Shauna frowned.

Back in her office, back in her own chair as boss, she was struggling to finalise her accounts, before taking them to be audited by her accountant.

Her attention kept drifting and the numbers swam before her eyes.

She sighed, and was making a third attempt to get going when the door opened and Mandy entered, bringing a mug of tea as a peace offering.

“OK, did I make a mess of thing while you were away?” she asked.

“You did a better job than I was doing before I left,” Shauna said.

It was no more than the truth. Unconsciously, Shauna had picked clones of herself when choosing members of staff.

Mandy was as conscientious as Shauna had ever been before the shop was given to her.

Tracy and Trish were younger, but reliable.

She had chosen well, and felt a small glow of pride.

Mandy perched on the corner of the desk.

“We did a lot of talking, Shauna, while you were away, about how online ordering is hitting the retail trade.

“How we’ve managed to survive by focusing on older women, and providing them with a truly personal service.”

“And?” Shauna asked. Rubbing her eyes, she picked up her mug.

“We had a couple of brainstorming sessions,” Mandy continued.

“Came up with loads of ideas, mostly useless. Then we whittled them down, until we settled on an idea from Trish that we think has mileage.”

Shauna tried to look interested.

“So what’s the idea?” she asked.

“It’s simple,” Mandy said. “Few, if any, of our older customers browse the web for fashion purchases.

“That’s why we keep them.

“Younger kids would never dream of anything else but online.

“This leaves a lot of women in their forties and fifties.

“They’ve learned to use a laptop to bank, pay bills. But many of them are only starting to buy their clothes online.”

“Yes, they’re an emerging market,” Shauna agreed.

“The trouble is, you have to be a bigger business than us to carry the volume of stock and specialist packaging services to sell online.”

“Not necessarily,” Mandy said. “These women are looking for something that’s affordable, but special.

“Lots of young designers have ideas that they can’t get into display. So why not act as a go-between?

“Offer a limited range of young designers’ work on an online basis.”

“Instead of what we’re doing?” Shauna asked.

“No, as a trial project. It would get us an online presence, and bring in a new income stream to add to our normal income turnover, keeping us viable.”

Shauna considered.

“It has mileage,” she admitted.

“Especially if we sharpen up, modernise. Instead of Keller’s Ladies Wear – that name screams 1950s – we could launch a new brand.

“Give them the idea that we see them all as individuals, and will help them find what they’re looking for . . .”

The door opened and young Trish came in.

“Sorry, boss,” she said, handing over a scrap of paper. “A big tall guy came in.

“He asked if you worked here, then took out his notebook and wrote this.”

Frowning, Shauna put down her mug and looked at the note.

Tell her Neil Caldwell was here. If she wants to see me, I’m at the café down the road . . .

It was a deliberate reprise of the note she had left for him at his office in Edinburgh.

The mug of tea went everywhere. Mandy was almost knocked from her perch on the desk.

Trish had to leap aside as her boss hurtled past.

Shauna ran as she had never run since she was a child.

She tore down the pavement, threading her way through the other pedestrians, most of whom stopped and turned to watch her.

She crashed through the doors of the café, looked around.

He was there, in the shadows at the back, slowly standing up, with a smile on his face and his arms opening wide.

Shauna flew across the café floor and threw herself into his arms.

“Neil,” she whispered. “Oh, Neil . . .”

“Shauna,” he whispered back into her hair.

Somehow, these few words managed to say everything that mattered.

To be continued…