Ms. Agnes’s features were not particularly beautiful, but her accent carried the pure, authentic tone of the West End—low and magnetic, compelling listeners to quiet attention, which added a touch of elegance to her demeanor.
Mr. Nash was still hesitating, but Dolly spoke up first.
“This job is truly excellent; anyone would be willing to take it. I’m very grateful that you’re willing to help me.
However, you’ve always taught us that we must approach everything with a sense of responsibility. Now that my family needs help, I naturally can’t stand by and do nothing.
I also believe I can quickly help them through this difficult time.”
Her reply was flawless—both complimentary and sincere—leaving even Ms. Agnes, who was accustomed to social occasions and frequent flattery, unable to find fault.
She looked at Dolly. Originally, she hadn’t paid much attention to this unremarkable, well-behaved girl, but now she was somewhat surprised, wondering why she hadn’t noticed her before.
“That’s fine too. Gaining some practical experience will help you understand what you want in the future. If you still wish to find a job, you can come back to me.”
A faint smile appeared on Ms. Agnes’s face. Only now did she begin to observe Dolly’s every move closely, not minding doing her a good turn.
She turned to her secretary beside her, cleared her throat, and said, “Refund this month’s tuition to her, and inform Mrs. Perny.”
The secretary nodded and immediately led the two out of the headmistress’s office to the adjacent office to collect the money.
While waiting in the accounting room, Dolly caught sight of several middle-aged women sitting at desks, tallying accounts.
They were sorting through the school’s weekly food supply procurement bills.
Although over two hundred girls ate very little at each meal—just two slices of toast, a bit of bacon, and some vegetable soup per person—the numbers on the kitchen’s purchase orders added up to quite a sum.
The previous week had consumed approximately seven hundred pounds of flour, fifty pounds of butter, one thousand eggs, two hundred pounds of bacon, four hundred cabbages, four hundred pounds of carrots, and ten pounds each of salt and sugar.
The invoices listed the individual prices, and the total came to only thirty or forty Pounds Sterling.
It was unclear which wholesaler the school sourced from, but the prices were considerably cheaper than market rates. In Dolly’s original memories, the food quality was also acceptable.
Mrs. Perny, who managed the school’s logistics, was signing a stack of invoices and documents, stamping them with her personal seal for remittance.
As if aided by divine intervention, a gust of wind blew in through a crack in the window, scattering the bills everywhere.
Dolly immediately helped pick things up, pretending to glance casually as she moved closer, managing to read the mailing address on one of the bills.
Surrey County, Mitcham District, Shallow Lake Road Onisg Farm.
This place was just south of London, in an undeveloped area of clustered farms, administratively part of Surrey County. The dairy farm where Mr. Nash worked was also nearby.
She silently memorized all the potentially useful information, quickly helping to tidy up the mess.
A short while later, after retrieving the month’s tuition, Mr. Nash and Dolly left the girls’ school and returned home the same way they had come.
By the time they arrived home, it was just past eight o’clock. The morning commute rush around Lakela Street had already subsided, and the surrounding factories had resumed their rhythmic noise.
As Dolly entered the alleyway, she noticed that Lobit Grocery Store had also opened.
George, the young errand boy hired by Lobit, was fetching water and mopping the floor.
The little errand boy was gaunt and skinny, dressed in a patched tweed coat, lugging a heavy wooden bucket as he shuffled at the doorway, kneeling to scrub the steps.
This errand boy was a child Lobit had brought out from the workhouse. He had been working in this grocery store since he was eleven, and now it had been three years.
In the original owner’s memory, the fact that this boy had survived this long was purely due to sheer luck.
He had to mind the store and sell goods, clean up, and help Mrs. Lobit look after the children. As for his wages, they were entirely dependent on Lobit’s whims.
Dolly felt not a shred of the excessive sympathy that would be superfluous for a merchant, only pondering how to make use of this situation.
She followed her grandfather back to their own home.
In the morning shop, the window shutters and the main door were wide open, and there were already two customers inside.
Mary had taken on another baby to look after today. At the moment, she was cradling the child, who was unsettled by the unfamiliar environment, while also attending to the customers.
Early this morning, after Penny got up, she didn’t even eat breakfast. Craving biscuits so badly, she grabbed a stack of two hundred small flyers and dashed out.
After stuffing them into the residential apartments in the alley, she went to the nearby streets and had just returned home to catch her breath.
As soon as she distributed the flyers, people came knocking right after, holding the flyers and wanting to buy things.
Mary had heard Dolly’s instructions yesterday and was now selling according to the prices listed on the flyers.
Most of the discounted items for sale had been packed and weighed by Dolly yesterday, so they only needed to be taken out as a whole for checkout.
This greatly helped Mary avoid being too flustered.
After returning home, Dolly took off her hat and scarf and quickly took over Mary’s duties, handling the checkout for these two customers.
The two customers before her were both neighbors who ran shops on Clark Street.
One was a widow who ran a second-hand furniture store, dressed in a black skirt.
The other was the proprietress of a small café next door, wearing a thick apron.
Their shops were not far from Nash Grocery Store. As soon as they opened their doors, they saw the flyers that had been slipped in. Since there weren’t many customers in the morning, they came over to take a look.
The two of them purchased quite a few daily necessities according to the promotional prices on the flyer.
Such as packaged cheap tea leaves, salt and sugar, and items like soap.
After settling the bill, the widow who ran the second-hand furniture store wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Holding a worn white silk scarf and carrying a straw bag, she leaned against the counter and asked softly:
“Did you write all the words on this paper? Your handwriting is quite good, and you speak well too. Could you help me write a few price tags?”
Dolly hadn’t expected she could develop this side business of writing on commission, but she didn’t refuse.
Without even asking the widow to pay separately, she took a few pieces of cardboard and slowly wrote out the price tags.
The widow’s shop had a wide range of items, from small second-hand basins to large second-hand beds. She took in everything, refurbished them a bit, and sold them again.
Her prices were quite cheap too. A worker’s wage for a day or two was enough to buy a small wooden bed, so business was usually quite good.
As Dolly wrote, she asked the widow which wholesaler had better paint, as she wanted to tidy up her own cabinets.
The widow was somewhat surprised that Dolly was consulting her, as Dolly had never spoken to her before.
So, the widow recommended a wholesaler that specialized in selling oils and paints.
“This is my secret formula for refurbishing furniture, don’t go telling anyone. Mention my name to that shopkeeper, and he won’t try to sell you any fakes.”
As she was leaving, the widow coquettishly reminded her.
Dolly immediately realized that the paint seller was probably the widow’s lover?
However, in the original owner’s memories, the widow had quite a few lovers, including the owners of nearby hardware stores and carpentry shops.
Dolly thought to herself, this widow is quite ambitious—even the lovers she finds can be useful for refurbishing secondhand furniture.
As soon as the woman left, Penny emerged from behind the curtain. Seeing Dolly free, she asked for some biscuits.
Dolly generously opened a pack of biscuits and shared them with Penny, taking a bite herself.
These biscuits were leftover stock from last week’s purchase, bought in bulk starting at twenty pounds, with a wholesale price of four pence per pound. Half of them were still left.
Although stored in a tin can, which kept them sealed, they no longer tasted very crisp.
Dolly planned to focus on selling these today to clear them out.
Not selling biscuits at all wasn’t an option either. In London nowadays, whether rich or poor, it was fashionable to have two meals a day plus afternoon tea.
In the West End, the wealthy enjoyed delicate three-tiered pastry towers for afternoon tea, while a few biscuits paired with a cup of cheap black tea was the most suitable way for the East End.
She intended to develop a few recipes herself and bake a batch of biscuits for self-production and self-sale once this stock was cleared.
Once a typical brand retail store reached a certain scale, part of its packaged food would be supplied under its own brand.
With her own brand development and production from a source factory for distribution, quality control could be standardized to the utmost, and the pressure on store inventory would be reduced.
Author’s Note: