Always cautious, always suspicious even of his own family, Mr Khan had resisted all her efforts to install another cash register, ignoring the queues that formed as a result, sometimes halfway to the shop’s front doors. It was only when he had seen with his own eyes two customers leave one evening in disgust, not prepared to wait ten minutes to pay for a bag of crisps and a bottle of Sprite, that he had relented.In the same way, Tahira had managed to change the stock – gradually adding more staples for people who’d run out and didn’t want to make the journey to the big supermarkets; and more high-end items, like ready-made curries and sauces, for the increasing number of young singles living in the area. It seemed to be working. Not that her father gave her any credit for the way sales and profits were holding up, even in the middle of a recession.She sighed, hearing yet again in her head the constant paternal reminders that she wouldn’t be working in the shop for long, that marriage was the next step in life for her – as far as she was concerned, marriage would be the grim last step, the end of everything she enjoyed.
What do You think about Liz Carlyle - 06 - Rip Tide?
