Free Miracle on Regent Street by Ali Harris Page B

myself laughing.
    Rupert sighs loudly. ‘Look, Sharon, I understand that my lack of retail experience makes it hard for you to understand where I’m coming from, but I just want you to see that we have
to do something. I care about this store, and the truth is, if we don’t drastically improve our takings it won’t be here much longer.’
    Fleetingly I wonder if this is what Joel was talking about earlier. Rupert has obviously called his old friend in to help advise him on the store’s financial situation.
    ‘But Hardy’s won’t close,’ Sharon replies quickly. ‘It’s been here forever.’
    ‘And some people would say that’s too long,’ Rupert replies. ‘Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this but we’ve had interest from another store to acquire the
site. My father is putting pressure on me to accept the offer. He thinks the store has had its day, that we should get out while we can and pour the money into other investments. He doesn’t
care about Hardy’s any more, he just wants to ensure he has a hefty retirement fund,’ he adds bitterly.
    ‘But you can’t sell Hardy’s!’ Sharon exclaims. ‘What about our jobs?’
    Rupert’s voice is strained. ‘I’m doing all I can to save as many jobs as possible right now. But the truth is, if the store’s takings don’t go up drastically,
we’ll all be out of work. Including me.’
    I shake my head in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Hardy’s can’t close. It’s been here for one hundred years, survived two World Wars. What about Gwen’s debts,
Jenny’s IVF, Becky’s rent? Where will Iris get her soap? What about Mrs Fawsley’s peacock fascinators? What about me? It’s Christmas in three weeks. They can’t lay
people off before then, can they? Can they?
    I peer through the shelves. Sharon has stepped closer to Rupert.
    ‘What about you, what do you want?’ She brushes her match-stick-like body against his, like a chicken bone propped against a side of pork. I have a sudden mental image of them
as animals – with Rupert as a disgruntled pig and Sharon a clucking hen, pecking at him continuously. Her advances are clearly lost on Rupert. He steps away and turns his back on her, and
Sharon staggers forward awkwardly. She quickly assumes a new position, this time with one hand on her hip, the other arm stretched up against the shelves. She looks like she’s about to launch
into the ‘I’m a little teapot’ routine. Poor Sharon, even I can do sexy better than this.
    ‘I want to give this wonderful old place one last chance,’ Rupert says with quiet determination. He seems to be talking to himself more than to her but I’m impressed by the
passion in his voice. ‘It’s my family heritage,’ he goes on, his voice now choked with emotion. ‘My great-grandfather founded it; it was his and my grandfather’s whole
life. I grew up here and I know how great it once was. I want more than anything to turn it’s fortunes around.’
    Sharon’s arm has tired during his speech and has dropped back to her waist. She flings it back up in the air as he turns to face her.
    ‘But I can’t do it without your help.’
    ‘You know I’ll do anything to help you, Rupert,’ Sharon purrs. She takes a step closer to him again and runs a finger down his arm. ‘Just tell me what you . . .
need.’
    Rupert gulps. ‘I need you to triple our sales over the Christmas period,’ he says nervously.
    ‘WHAT!’ Sharon exclaims, taking a step back. ‘That’s impossible!’
    ‘W-W-well then,’ he stutters, ‘perhaps I need to find a general manager who believes it is . Um, possible, I mean.’
    ‘You don’t mean that,’ she gasps. ‘You wouldn’t get rid of me. You couldn’t.’
    Rupert sighs and visibly deflates. I’m pretty sure he’s wishing he was on his farm tending his cattle right now.
    ‘Sharon, I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation. If we don’t at least double our takings by Boxing Day the store will