Goodmans of Glassford Street by Margaret Thomson Davis Page B

job. Then she spied a good-looking, well-dressed man walk in and, in a confident, businesslike way, collect a pile of suits from one of the racks. None of the assistants questioned him, thinking he was a buyer.
    She had to really spring through the department to get near to him and see what was going to happen next. She hardly had time to call to the security guard to follow her, before the man reached the door and was outside.
    ‘Excuse me,’ she called to him as soon as she reached him. ‘You are—’
    He began to run then and she and the security guard belted after him. But the security guard was too overweight for running and it was she who caught up with him. It was most unusual for a man to fight her but he did. Big mistake. He swung round towards her, grabbing her jacket roughly as he tried to shove her back. She whipped her right hand across, grabbed his hand at the wrist with a soft twist, while pushing his elbow with her left, and spun him round into a wrist lock. She stabbed the edge of her foot onto the back of his knee joint to bring him to his knees in front of her. Grabbing his hair, she bent him back like a strongbow.
    ‘Enough,’ she said quietly into his ear. ‘Let’s just go quietly upstairs before this becomes really painful.’
    By this time the security guard had reached them and they were able to continue with the usual routine. The man accompanied her back to the store and up to the manager’s office like a lamb.
    A lot of time was always taken up waiting for the police and also writing up reports, and she had just got back to the ground floor when she noticed a part-time member of staff going into the fitting room with a pile of underwear. She was a nice wee girl who was studying at Jordanhill College, and of course there were times when staff could make purchases. All the same, there was not another member of staff on duty at the fitting room, and she felt a bit annoyed. She’d so often told the managers of every department always to have someone in attendance at the fitting rooms. Eventually she saw the girl come out and replace a pile of underwear on the counter. On this occasion, she didn’t like to – indeed felt guilty about doing it, but rules were rules.
    ‘Just a minute, dear,’ she said to the girl. ‘Could you come back into the fitting room with me for a minute?’
    At the same time, she signalled for an assistant to come too. There she asked the girl to take off her top and skirt. The girl immediately burst into tears and before the top and skirt came off, it was obvious that she would be seen to be wearing several sets of Goodmans underwear.
    She was immediately dismissed, and next day the girl’s mother was on the phone demanding to know why her daughter had been sacked. But it was decided that it was up to the girl to explain to her mother.
    Then one of the customers complained to the manager that an assistant in the shoe department was smelling of drink. A check was made and some of the other staff agreed. ‘Yes, she’s always reeking of alcohol.’
    The problem was to catch her drinking on the premises or bringing drink into the shop. This was proving very difficult. The assistant denied everything, of course. She was watched and searched several times. Her bag was checked. Nothing. She never even went out at lunchtime but always ate in the staff canteen. She did, however, go to the toilet. This was perfectly natural, but her detective’s instinct told Miss Eden to go to the toilet after the assistant, stand up on the seat and search in the high, old-fashioned cistern. Sure enough, a carefully wrapped bottle of whisky was discovered – which meant another sacking.
    Big problems – and trouble – were to come as a result of that sacking, though.

9
    Tucking her hair behind her ears, Abi peered down at the TV Times on her lap. Nothing much on tonight. She got up to gaze out of the window. The light from the standard lamp in the room barely touched the darkness, the