Jarrold
by Fifi Sweeting
Where has everyone gone? The aisles are deserted and all to be heard is the hushed cry from the birds above. The shelves are destitute, naked without their clothes of stock. Has everyone left? Were they coming back? No one had told me anything, not that I'm surprised as I am Steven the Jarrolds basement cat. The customers don't seem to like me that much, especially not Mrs Lindie. though i have no clue why - all i did was trip her up. It was an accident you see, i was only trying to steal the tuna from her bag, an innocent mistake any one could make.
Maybe i should go and ask Gary and Susan the cats in the alley, they always know all the gossip. If it wasn't for them how else would i have known when Purrince William and and Cat Middleton were getting married and when Florence and the meowchine was playing on the streets of Norwich? Yes i will go and ask them. I wondered through the empty shop baffled at the sight of no crowds, no stock and no people giving me the look of shame as i dodged round them, i guess they are just all dog people, to be honest i am more of a dog person myself. I am on a mission, i will not stop till i find the answer to this mystery, ooo the bed section! Ok maybe i could just stop for a second it wouldn’t do much harm i suppose.
Yes, yes i know it is 5 hours later but those beds are really comfy, you just sink into them like falling into a cloud of marshmallow, i just couldn't help it. It was crying out me, dragging me with the force of gravity. Ok now on to the investigating, and yes i do mean it this time, well after i check out the tuna. Sorry no, here i go. Ive finally made it to the doors but i try to push them open and they won't budge, i guess i will have to come up with a plan b. Aha! The back windows! So i scramble to the back of the store where i thankfully find a window wedged open a tiny bit so i push it open using my paw, yes before you ask i am a genius cat.
Im just about reaching alley where Gary and Susan live when i come across Freddie he is the cat who's famous for being clumsy. Everybody knows him, high and low. Probably because of his incident with the wall, but i think its best not to talk about that.
“Gary and Susan! Do you have any idea whats going on?”
“Hey Steven! Well we have heard that its something to do with a man called Borris johnson and a virus, something called plovid? Or maybe it was Covid, who knows, they say evrything will be shut for a while” explained Gary.
Well whats the worst that could go wrong?
Jarrold
By Daisy Pearson
J – Jarrold in Norwich is an amazing shop,
A - Architecture towering metres above, up in the clouds, piercing the sun. I beg to mum and dad, ‘please can we go inside’, it doesn’t take much persuasion and in we pop!
R – Running up the hundreds of stairs, like a mountain climber up Mount Everest. Our legs ache but it is all worth it, when we reach the top….
R – Ranges of items, from shoes to books, makeup to furniture and all of the above. I dream of what I can buy, can’t yet decide. Hopefully I can find something before we have to stop.
O - Over and under searching high and low, for the perfect thing to buy. At Christmas we look for people’s perfect presents, and my parents wedding gifts list was made at Jarrold, many birthday gifts have been brought from here. But today I am looking for something for me… Over and under, searching high and low, have I found what it is, the perfect thing, not sure, I stop and swap.
L – Looking round and round, I can see different toys, of all colour and textures. The bumps of the Lego bricks, to the smooth surface on a toy fire engine. Racing to see all the books, and the sewing department is a feast for the eyes; buttons, felt, fabric and more. Out of the large glass window you can see - across the street - people in the Gym, feeling hot and sweaty wishing they could be shopping, but they just keep going, for what feels like nonstop.
D – Down, back down the stairs, looking on every floor, my bag getting heavy of all things galore. Fimo, pens, a new top, a hairbrush and a book for the way home. Down, back down the stairs, but I will be back, so here’s to the next 250 Years! Jarrold is such an incredible shop.
Jarrold
by Lucy Matthes
I didn’t always live in England. I was born and raised in Latvia but originally my family are from around the Norwich area. When we came on holiday to England, one of the most exciting things to do was go on a shopping trip around Norwich. There were so many new things, so many cool toys and sweets I’d never heard of, the market, the town hall, the arcade, and of course, Jarrolds. The shop that everyone in Norfolk knew about. It was perfect. As a child I’d be left with my little sister in the toy department, gaping at the colours and the vast expanse of the selection. I always went home with at least one thing.
Eventually I’d have to go and traipse around the clothing floor with my mum as she picked out too many items to carry. When we got down to the book shop (my favourite place) I could never hold in my excitement. I still can’t now.
Even though I only got to see and experience Jarrolds once a year, the building and the different departments stayed in my mind for a long time. It was the only thing I was ever able to remember about Norwich when we came back to Latvia. Almost like a checkpoint. It was this vivid, glorious building in my mind that became more and more spectacular every time I visited.
When we moved I found out that Jarrolds wasn’t just special to me. My Grandpa would meet with his friend every week at Benji’s without fail. And it was the only place they would meet. The art store is a home away from home as I am obsessed with stationery. My sister still loves roaming the aisles of the toy section. And finding the next best shower gel with my mum is a thrilling experience.
My only memories of Jarrolds are happy ones. Very happy ones.
Waiting
by Rowena Kaye
She sighed, making her coffee steam wisp away, leaned back into the sofa and was almost swallowed. Her gaze fell to her phone, that was patiently sat beside her. The woman knew it would happen today - that was why she had visited yesterday knowing it would be her last chance. The inevitable moment was still yet to come. She didn't want it to, but if wasn't today, it would have to be tomorrow or the day after, and that would so much harder. The woman thought all of this when she leaned back into the sofa, that was why she sighed.
The room was full of silence, overflowing with it. Only her quiet breathing and the incessant tick tock reminded her of the seconds counting down to that moment, filled the empty room and gave it some semblance of life.
Her hands still gripped the mug of coffee; it grounded her as she watched the froth gently spin on its rippled surface and inhaled its rich scent with every breath. The heat radiating through the ceramic mug burnt her fingers. She held it anyway. The sensation distracted her from her thoughts that tended to linger on the inevitable.
At work, the woman was half expecting someone to walk in - half wanted them to - and to voice those dreaded words. But they didn’t.
The overly large clock kept ticking and became so loud in the silence she considered taking out the batteries.
But she didn't.
It had been a gift. From him. As an early birthday present. They had met up for a cup of coffee in Jarrold, just like any other Friday morning, and proceeded to browse its sprawling floors. They had laughed together and he had brought her the clock. The woman smiled to herself.
Her gaze returned to the phone; she willed it to ring - wanted it to, if only it would all be over, even if... She dare not finish the thought. It was such an awful, disgusting thought, but it was true. The inevitable moment would finally stop all the suffering and all the pain - it would be over.
She felt the vibrations through the sofa before she heard it. It's first piercing trill still made her squeak and nearly spill her coffee. The intrusive sound filled the silent flat, drowning out the ticking of the clock. Let it ring. This was the phone call. She could feel it.
She closed her eyes. Let out a long breath. And reached for the phone.
Her thumb met the green circle and the piercing trill stopped abruptly. Her hand was lightly shaking. There was silence on the other end.
And then a woman's voice met her ear. She introduced herself as a nurse from the care home. But the woman didn't process any of what the nurse said, too focused on what was to come. She sounded sad, the nurse, but her voice didn't tremble as she said "I'm sorry. He's gone."
Jarrolds
by Larissa Burns
I gazed up in awe at the colossal building overlooking Norwich's bustling market place. It was immensely beautiful, yet an eerie silence loomed in the windows and the condensation on the glass was enough to send shivers down my spine. I walked past it everyday but only now realised why the children on the camping trips I attended sat around the fire, sparks and flames lighting up their faces in the dark, telling stories of ghosts and monsters who were residents to the abandoned building.
I held tightly to my dog's lead, afraid. I had a sudden urge to run away, but my feet were glued to the pavement beneath me as I struggled to discard the thoughts that swarmed round my head like angry wasps.
When I eventually snapped out of my trance, the sun had begun to set and the pink clouds made the building glow, enhancing the elegance that had once been present and if it wasn't for the dilapidated roof and cobwebs, it was possible it could still be described as that. I continued walking my dog but was too busy looking at it and not where I was going; I began falling, tumbling for what seemed like forever. I reached the bottom and looked up, trying to see Bella (my dog). I couldn't see. I'm not sure how long I was sitting there, but no one seemed to notice me. I didn't understand. I was sitting right there. As my vision came back I immediately looked for Bella but she was nowhere to be seen. The realization that she was gone almost paralysed me. I couldn't move. I felt the waves of sadness crashing over me. Eventually I mustered the energy to get home as I was too shaken up to continue looking.
The next few days I went looking for Bella, taking the same route past the building, ignoring it until Thursday. Something about the building that day caught my eye. Was it the way the light shone unnaturally through the windows or the creaks and whistles the solid stone walls somehow made? When I caught a glimpse of a shadow I ignored it; if you blinked, you would miss it and as no one else seemed to notice it I guessed I was being paranoid. That was until the same thing happened on Friday. And Saturday. And Sunday. Eventually I went to look inside and pushed open the heavy door. Only one thing stood in front of me ...
... myself!
There was no mirror so I knew it wasn't my reflection. It was extremely pale and ghostly. I looked down at myself, but somehow I wasn't there. How had I not noticed before? Was that why no one saw me when I fell? How long have I been like this? 'Since you fell' a voice responded, though I was sure I asked myself the question subconsciously. When I thought some more I came to a conclusion ...
... I was looking at my own ghost!