Sue

SUSAN HUMPHREYS

Susan writes for young adults and is currently working on a novel.

She can be contacted on drmidas@hotmail.co.uk or her view her website at www.drmidas.co.uk. You can also view Sue's blog at www.writersblock.merseyblogs.co.uk

Diversity

My dad loves Darwin. He eats up all that theory of evolution stuff. Natural selection, survival of the fittest - he relishes it all.

So he's the last person I expected to be worried about a little healthy competition. And to be fair, he had been excited at first -

"Have you seen it, Jodie?"

"Seen what, Dad?"

He jabbed his thumb at the window.

There's never been much to see from our shop's front - and what there is always stays the same. Mainly it's sea - well we are based at the harbour.

There's the usual mix of moored boats and on a good day a trawler with fishermen or a tourist trip with divers. Like I said it's pretty much stagnant. I suppose it's no wonder the business is struggling more and more.

Dad's had the shop for thirty years - and I've lived above it half as long. As you might expect I'm also unpaid help. I was roped in as soon as I could reach the till. You'll usually find me behind the counter after school with my exam revision notes propped up against some new tackle box or flippers.

So the boarding going up was the most interesting thing to happen in ages. When it was quiet we'd try to sneak a peak behind it to see what was going on, looking for tantalising clues.

We'd seen the planning notices of course and the new signs - new development coming soon - but neither of us quite believed it until the building work began.

I was hoping for a small cafe, somewhere to get away from the shop.

Dad was keeping his fingers crossed for a florist or clothing boutique, in other words a place with glamorous female staff. I can hardly blame him - don't get me wrong I love my Mum but they're better off apart and it's definitely time he met someone new. That's what mum did; she's living with a dentist 200 miles away. I could have gone with her, I suppose - but my Dad seemed to need me more.

"We'll be fine," he said, and he was right, we were. Maybe that's when Dad got into Darwin; to be honest I can't remember much about that time.

I do know we proved to be a couple of fighters, though. Now he says we've got the fight of our lives on our hands, beacuse a month ago they had the grand unveiling of the new business - Divers City.

My Dad was not happy. "I don't believe it Jodie. This will finish us off."

He sent me to scout out the place; they stocked everything we did and more besides. I tried to be positive, but I don't think I convinced him.

"It's too big, if anything, and you don't get personal attention like her."

Actually they had been very helpful and informed, but I couldn't tell Dad that.

We did our best of course - tried a few gimmicks = Divers City was attracting more people to town, the problem was getting them into our shop.

We tried cutting prices, changing our layout and window display. I handed out free samples of flies and weights, I even baked cakes and passed them out to customers - actually they were popular - but sales were still plummeting and I had to admit we looked really old fashioned compared to our rivals.

Dad didn't even want to talk about it anymore - even when I made other suggestions.

"It's nature's way," he mumbled. "We just have to admit that we're beaten."

He'd spent more and more time staring out across the road, that neon sign taunting him. Watching new faces going in, then out carrying their expensive purchases, not even noticing our existence.

Some days he didn't even bother opening up. I was getting really worried. What would happen next? Would we lose the shop, our home? I couldn't concentrate on my revision, I even though about going to see mum - but I couldn't leave Dad, not while he was like this.

One evening it got too much. I just blurted it out. "What are we going to do?"

"It's not my fault, Jodie, it's that stupid shop. I wish it would burn to the ground."

"Dad!" He sounded like he meant it - but surely he wouldn't.

You can imagine my panic when I woke in the middle of the night, disturbed by the sound of loud banging from outside.

I grabbed my dressing gown and hurried out of my room. Dad's door was open, his bed empty. I felt sick, what if I was too late?

The shop was dark and gloomy, like an omen, my heard raced - the front door was ajar, I pushed it and stepped into the cold air.

Dad was up a ladder, clinging onto the Divers City sign. He had one of the letters tucked under his arm.

Caught with a capital C.

"What are you doing, Dad are you crazy? You'll get yourself arrested."

"They stole my business, now I'm stealing there's. Starting with this sign."

I looked up at the huge letters again; I couldn't believe what he had done.

Then I realised the solution to our problem was staring me in the face.

"Dad stop! Look!"

He turned to where I was pointing.

"It's a sign," I cried.

"Not for long".

"No, look. Divers ity. Diversity. That's the answer. We can't compete with them; we have to acknowledge that. It's like Darwin said, you have to evolve - adapt to your environment."

He seemed interested now, a little calmer. "What do you mean?"

"Remember I said the harbour needed a cafe, well why don't we become one? There's a lot more people in the area now."

"And those cakes of yours were popular." I could see his mind ticking over. "And there's lots of profit in coffee."

"We'll need a new name," I smiled. "And a new sign. Speaking of which you'd better put that back."

He hooked the C into position. "I like Darwin's", he said - and I had to agree.

North West Children's Writers & Illustrators