Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop (The Foyles Girls)

by Elaine Roberts

  Alice nodded. ‘It might not be anything, other than jealousy and malicious gossip.’

  ‘Maybe, but he doesn’t want to knock on my door until he decides what he wants, because my Daisy is better than that.’

  The traders were already out with their loaded barrows, each vying to sell their wares, yelling to grab the attention of the passers-by. The wonderful smell of hot pea soup, mingled with the aroma of hot coffee, followed Alice and Victoria along the road. ‘Ladies, how about a lovely cup of hot soup? It’ll set you up for the day, or there’s always a lovely brew of tea or coffee.’

  The girls shook their heads.

  Trams and cars trundled along Charing Cross Road, spitting and coughing out smoke. An old lady stepped forward, with a small bunch of lavender. ‘It’s good for drying out and leaving in your chest of drawers. It’ll make your clothes smell lovely and fresh, dearie.’

  ‘Maybe another day.’ Victoria smiled as she walked past, before turning to Alice. ‘I could spend all my wages on the way to work.’

  Alice laughed. ‘Everyone is trying to make ends meet.’

  ‘Oh, before I forget, I’m going to the hospital straight from work, so don’t wait for me.’

  Alice squinted. ‘Is that wise, when you’re so tired?’

  Victoria looked straight ahead. ‘Probably not, but I want to check on Ted and speak to Mabel, or maybe I should say Aunt Mabel, about my father.’

  Alice nodded. ‘Just don’t overdo it. None of us are very good when we’re tired. It was a long evening last night, and no doubt it will be another busy day today.’

  As the large white lettering of the Foyles Bookshop came into view, a boy brushed past Victoria, as he ran down the road.

  He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Sorry, miss.’

  Victoria looked back and smiled at the boy.

  He turned and just managed to swerve at the last minute, to avoid colliding with someone else.

  Victoria shook her head. ‘I don’t know what he’s running from, or to.’

  They both watched Mr Leadbetter, mingling with customers outside the shop, straightening the books on the racks. He stopped, looking up and down Charing Cross Road, before turning to talk to a customer.

  Alice frowned at Victoria. ‘We’re not late, are we?’

  Victoria shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but after last night, they’re lucky we’re here at all, especially with you being pregnant.’

  Mr Leadbetter watched the girls approach and smiled in their direction. His eyes gave away the anxiety that he was doing his best to hide. ‘Thank goodness you are both safe. Mrs Greenwood isn’t in yet, and I’ve been quite worried about you all.’

  ‘Molly is alive and well, Mr Leadbetter. At least, she was when she left us, just before midnight.’ Victoria paused. ‘I’m sorry if we’re late, but there are more people about, looking at the damage the Germans caused last night, and we had a late night. We thought a bomb had gone off at Russell Square, where Alice’s grandparents live, but it was in Southampton Row. By all accounts, it killed and injured a lot of people.’

  Mr Leadbetter nodded. ‘I’m just thankful you are all safe.’

  Molly came rushing down the road, clutching her handbag, as it swung violently at her side. ‘I’m so sorry I’m late, sir. I had trouble getting out of bed this morning.’

  Mr Leadbetter pulled his fob watch out of his waistcoat pocket and pressed the gold button on the side. The lid flicked up and he stared down at it. ‘You still have two minutes before you are officially late.’ He laughed. ‘You’d better get yourselves clocked in; I’d hate for you all to lose money. I’ll stand at your counter, Mrs Leybourne, and you can take your time to get yourselves together.’

  Alice flushed with colour. ‘Thank you, sir, I won’t be long.’

  ‘Go on, all of you.’

  They all moved forward at the same time, before Victoria stopped and turned to Mr Leadbetter. ‘Sir, is Albert in?’

  Mr Leadbetter smiled. ‘Indeed, he is. It will take more than the Germans to stop him trying to teach the world cockney rhyming slang.’

  Victoria beamed and made her way inside the shop.

  *

  Victoria held the bunch of flowers in her arms, as she walked onto Joan of Arc Ward. She no longer noticed the strong smell of disinfectant and antiseptic. A nurse smiled as she approached her. ‘They look beautiful; love the colours of the roses.’

  ‘Thank you, I bought them off a barrow, on my way in.’ Victoria lowered her head into the flowers. ‘The lilies smell lovely.’ She sized up the bunch. ‘I think I’ll need a few vases to separate them into.’

  The nurse led her to a cupboard and pulled out a couple of china vases covered with painted yellow daffodils. ‘I always think these look too beautiful to use, but after the bombings, I think we could all do with cheering up.’

  ‘Nurse.’

  Victoria peered over her shoulder, before looking back at the nurse. ‘Thank you. I’ll get them in water and then I can do what’s ever needed to help.’

  ‘Nurse.’

  The nurse nodded and walked over to the patient.

  Victoria finished putting the flowers in water, hoping that would revive the blooms. She picked up the vases, placing them on windowsills, on each side of the ward. Glancing around, there was no sign of Mabel so any conversation about her parents would have to wait. The ward seemed quite subdued, after the laughter of the previous visits. She walked along, nodding to patients as she went. Victoria stopped at bed twenty-five. Her heart lurched in her chest. Ted was still in the same position he had been in since she had first discovered him. ‘Good evening, Corporal Marsden.’

  As always, silence stood between them.

  ‘I think I probably owe you an apology, for being so hard on you.’

  Ted turned his head in her direction. ‘Why?’ He paused. ‘Do you feel sorry for me?’

  It was Victoria’s turn to be silent, as she searched for words.

  ‘Or is it because you had a taste of it last night?’

  All the love Victoria felt for him was washed away by the anger that surged through her veins. ‘No, and I’ll have you know it’s not the first time. I know we haven’t seen the horrendous things you have, but we are going through it in a different way, worrying about whether our men are safe, looking out for loved ones, hoping they will come home safe and sound, even though we know they won’t be the same person anymore. Let alone all the women that have taken on the men’s work, even though most of them only thought we were good enough for the kitchen and the bedroom before the war, so don’t belittle what’s happening here.’

  Ted lowered his voice, as he returned to his usual position. ‘That told me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but you seem to bring out the worst in me.’

  ‘Huh, no kidding.’ Ted’s lips lifted in the corners for a moment.

  ‘I obviously need to work on my bedside manner. I was told to be careful how I spoke to you, because you were depressed, which I do understand, but you have to try and help yourself a little. I’m not saying all the problems will magically disappear, but you could be kind to yourself, and those around you. You do know that by lying here and not talking to anyone, you’re only punishing yourself, don’t you? Everyone just avoids you, when you could be part of the group that are laughing and joking, about some daft things I grant you, but laughter is the best cure. You should try it, because whatever has happened to you isn’t going away. You just have to learn to live with it.’

  Ted growled. ‘That’s easy for you to say.’

  Victoria sighed and straightened his bedding. ‘It’s always easier to say than do, but you have to understand that you can’t do it on your own. You need family and friends, or some kind soul who is happy to help when you need it.’

  Ted stayed silent.

  Victoria could feel her heart pounding in her chest. ‘You should try talking about what’s going on inside your head.’ She took a step away from the bed. ‘Trust me, I know abou
t feeling low. I was lucky enough to have good friends that have helped me to help myself, but you’re not doing yourself any favours lying in that dark hole…’

  ‘Have you finished?’

  Victoria nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on, but in my clumsy way, I’m trying to help you. I’ll leave you in peace from now on.’

  ‘I have no one, Miss Know-it-all.’

  ‘Everyone has someone,’ Victoria whispered. ‘It’s about whether you choose to confide in them or not.’

  Ted’s lips straightened and a pulse could be seen throbbing in his neck. ‘There was once but I blew it and now… well, now it’s just too late.’

  ‘It’s never too late. What about your family, or someone who wrote to you while you were away?’ Victoria held her breath, as the tension grew between them.

  ‘There’s no one.’

  Victoria felt the tears pricking at her eyes, as her failure and exhaustion engulfed her. She needed to escape, before she made a complete fool of herself. Ted didn’t want or need her. She looked around for Mabel, but she was nowhere to be seen. She stopped a nurse who was carrying a bundle of bandages. ‘I’m sorry, I won’t keep you, but I’m looking for Nurse Atkins. Is she not in today?’

  The nurse looked around her. ‘I’m sure she was in earlier.’ She paused, as she looked from bed to bed. ‘Oh no, I remember someone said she’d received bad news about her brother, so has gone back to have a lie down.’

  Victoria slowly nodded as she whispered, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ The nurse grabbed a bandage, as it nearly slipped over her arm.

  Victoria nodded. Her mind was in a whirlwind. Was the bad news about John? No, he’s not Mabel’s brother, he’s yours, well, maybe. So as well as her own father, Mabel must have another brother. Her mind searched to remember all the paperwork she had found. If only she had read her mother’s diary, but that had seemed too intrusive at the time.

  The nurse watched Victoria for a few seconds, then carried on to the end of the ward, trying to keep the bandages close to her body.

  *

  Victoria paced along the street towards the butcher’s and saw Daisy queuing outside. They had been out of the house for hours, but she was thankful for the half a loaf she had managed to get.

  Daisy frowned as she looked up and down the street. Victoria waved.

  Daisy smiled and ran towards her. ‘I persuaded the butcher to give me six sausages, and that took some doing, I can tell you.’

  Victoria shook her head. ‘Perhaps we should marry a butcher and a baker; none of them look like they’re starving, and their prices have shot up. I got half a loaf; not much, but if we’re careful, it’ll last a couple of days.’

  Daisy looped her hand under Victoria’s arm. ‘Are you all right? You’ve been preoccupied lately. Is there anything you want to share?’

  ‘No, at least not yet, I’m more interested in you and Constable Albright.’

  Daisy laughed. ‘There’s nothing to tell. We didn’t really go out together, other than with work, so he is free to do what he wants.’

  ‘Hmm, stupid man, he won’t find anyone better than you.’

  ‘Don’t be hard on him. We still get on very well, and I’d like it to stay that way.’

  Victoria eyed her. ‘Are you soft on him then? I don’t want you getting hurt.’

  Daisy squeezed Victoria’s arm, under the thick woollen coat. ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m a grown-up now.’

  Victoria laughed. ‘That doesn’t stop me worrying or wanting to protect you.’

  Daisy pulled on Victoria’s arm. ‘Hold on, that’s Mr Wilson’s barrow and I’ve been meaning to catch up with him. Do you mind if we just stop for a moment?’

  Victoria shook her head.

  They walked over towards Mr Wilson, standing back as he took some coins from a customer.

  ‘Thank you, don’t forget we’re ’ere every day.’

  The customer nodded, before walking away.

  ‘Mr Wilson.’

  Mr Wilson beamed. ‘Daisy. ’Ello girl, what can I do for you?’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to come and see you. You may not remember, it was a few weeks ago, maybe months, but I wanted to find out whether the lad that stole the fruit came back, to at least apologise to you. We came across him, but we were then told to take cover because we were about to be bombed, so Lily and I ended up in the basement of Foyles Bookshop instead.’

  ‘That’s all right. Yer shouldn’t worry yerself over a bit of fruit, not with everything else that’s going on.’

  Daisy watched Victoria peering at the fruit and vegetables on the barrow, before looking back at Mr Wilson. ‘That’s very kind of you to say so, but I’d like to know if he kept his word, because we were bringing him back to you, before we were all told to take cover. He was telling us about his sick mother, but I never got an address off him.’

  Mr Wilson chuckled. ‘Yer needn’t ’ave been worrying yerself all this time. The young lad did come back to see me.’ Mr Wilson picked up some mud-covered potatoes and placed them in a metal bowl. ‘He was very sorry and offered to work off the price, because he ’ad no money. Well, I’m a real softie, though don’t tell anyone cos I ’ave an image to protect.’ He roared with laughter. ‘Anyway, I gave ’im a job and I tell yer what, ’e’s a great little worker.’ He turned his attention to Victoria. ‘Is this young lady wiv you?’

  Daisy smiled. ‘Yes, it looks like she’s eyeing up your vegetables.’

  Mr Wilson moved across to Victoria. ‘’Ere, give us yer bag and I’ll put these potatoes in it, if yer don’t mind a bit of dirt, that is?’

  Victoria looked around, before she realised he was talking to her. ‘How much are they?’

  ‘Yer can ’ave ’em on me, yer look like yer need feeding up. I’ll even chuck in a couple of carrots.’ He picked up the orange vegetables. ‘They ain’t up to much, so don’t ’ang about cooking ’em.’

  ‘No, Mr Wilson, I can’t let you do that.’ Daisy moved nearer. ‘It’s your living that you’re giving away.’

  ‘Aww, a few spuds ain’t gonna make any difference.’

  Victoria glanced at Daisy, unsure what to do.

  Daisy nodded.

  Victoria handed over her shopping bag to Mr Wilson, who kept adding two of everything on his stall.

  Daisy shook her head. ‘I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but don’t forget we have to carry that bag.’

  Mr Wilson laughed. ‘I ’ad forgotten, but it’s just my way of saying thank you for checking up on me.’

  It was Daisy’s turn to laugh. ‘There’s no need to thank me, I wanted to see if I was right to have had faith in the lad.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Is his mother well now?’

  Victoria sensed her sister was holding her breath, so she prayed it would be so.

  ‘Yes, she is.’ Mr Wilson offered the bag, over the top of the stall. ‘So yer can stop yer worrying.’

  Daisy gasped. ‘Thank goodness.’ She grabbed the bag handles. ‘My, we might have to share the load here, Victoria. Thanks again, Mr Wilson.’

  The girls took a handle each and proceeded to walk along Oxford Street. The cars were edging along the road. People moved in and out of shops, some were queuing outside, for food. Arguments were breaking out, as someone tried to jump the queue. The shortages were taking a hold. Victoria wondered how much longer the traders would have enough to sell on their barrows. London wouldn’t be the same without them shouting out every day.

  Victoria sighed. ‘There’s something I haven’t told you.’

  Daisy raised her eyebrows, as she looked over at her sister. ‘Wait, I need to change hands.’ They put the bag down and swapped sides, before picking it up again. ‘What is it? Should I be worried? Is it Stephen?’

  Victoria stared hard at the ground in front of her. They both stepped forward. ‘It’s nothing for you to worry about.’ She sighed. ‘Ted is a patient at Endell Str
eet Hospital.’

  Daisy stared at her sister. Her mouth opened, and then closed again.

  ‘You don’t have to say anything, in fact there’s nothing to say.’ Victoria shook her head. ‘At the moment, he can’t see, but I don’t know whether that’s permanent or not.’ Pain flicked across her face. ‘But he’s claiming he has no one in his life who can look after him, family or otherwise.’

  They both stopped outside their house, dropping the bag on the footpath. Victoria stared at the front door, wondering why her life was in such a mess.

  Without a word, Daisy pulled the string through the letterbox, until a key was revealed. ‘Come inside.’ Daisy commanded her sister.

  Victoria did as she was told. She bent down to pick up a letter that was sitting on the hall mat.

  ‘After all the letters and parcels you’ve sent him.’ Daisy pushed the door closed. ‘My God, how many times does that man have to hurt you? You are worth ten of him?’

  ‘He doesn’t mean to hurt me.’ Victoria gave a humourless laugh. ‘He doesn’t know it’s me he’s talking to. He’s depressed.’ She turned the envelope over in her hand. It was addressed to their father. Who could be writing to him, after all these years?

  19

  Victoria clutched her father’s letter in her hand. Red blotches appeared on her cheeks. She screwed the letter up for the second time that day. She marched along Bloomsbury Street, her mind in a whirl. What had the letter said? She didn’t need to read it again. It was cold, and to the point.

  Dear David,

  I regret to inform you that I have received a telegram to say your brother, Tom, has died on the front line. Apparently, he died a hero.

  Yours sincerely,

  Mr Herbert Appleton

  She had no idea about this man, who was obviously her grandfather, or why he was writing now, after all these years, but she had examined the envelope closely and noticed the Brighton postmark. Mabel had told her John was in Brighton. Maybe he was just trying to do the right thing, but was it really the way to tell someone their brother had died? Maybe that’s why her parents had kept them away from them. The photograph jumped into her mind, of her parents by the seafront. Had that been taken at Brighton? Her mind just kept going round and round, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it once and for all.