Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop (The Foyles Girls)

by Elaine Roberts

  Herbert’s eyes blazed with rage. ‘How dare you? You come uninvited into my house and cause all this trouble. You are your father’s daughter, all right.’

  ‘You are right on both counts. I did come into this house uninvited, which was very rude of me, and I extend my apologies for that.’

  Herbert nodded. ‘At least you admit that much.’

  ‘However, I know you would have not allowed us to visit, had you known we were coming.’

  Herbert’s face contorted with rage.

  ‘And as for your second comment, about me being my father’s daughter.’ Victoria smiled. ‘I’m sorry; I’m not smiling at your anger. I’m smiling at the compliment you have just given me. I’m proud to be given that title; there was no man fairer, or more loving, to his wife and children. I’m afraid, sir, if you didn’t get on with him, then I think you need to look to yourself, and I might add, even if my father had stepped out of line with you, does that mean you have to be so unforgiving as to not allow his children to meet the family they didn’t know existed? If that is so, you are indeed a cruel man. You should ask yourself, is it a coincidence that no one, other than your long-suffering wife, wants to live with you?’

  Herbert took a step nearer to Victoria and lifted his arm. ‘Well, I’ve a good mind to—’

  ‘To what, sir, strike me; is that how you deal with problems?’ Victoria’s eyes widened. ‘I can tell you that my father never lifted a hand to anybody, so he was a better man than you’ll ever be.’

  Daisy stood in the doorway and coughed.

  Victoria spun round on her heels and stretched out her arm, pulling Daisy into the room. ‘This, sir, is your other granddaughter, Daisy. She’s a policewoman.’ She turned to her sister. ‘Is John all right?’

  Daisy didn’t take her eyes off her grandfather, as she shrugged. ‘I’m not an expert, but I don’t think there’s any change from when we went in there.’

  Victoria turned back to her grandfather. ‘You know, this isn’t actually about you, and I’m not going to allow you to play God with our lives. It’s about John and his needs.’ Her voice softened. ‘I understand he’s been at a loss to understand why our father and mother haven’t been to see him. I don’t know if he can hear us or not, but I want to bring him some peace; even more so, if this is the only time I get to spend with him.’

  ‘Herbert, leave them to it.’ Beatrice’s soft voice filled the vacuum between them. ‘It’s time to move on. Look at the people in this room. Apart from John, there is no one else. Thanks to the war, our family is getting smaller every day. We should be pulling together. It’s your stubbornness that has prevented us from knowing about David and Margaret’s train accident. I know I have a part to play in that, I should have defied you, but that is my regret. Now, poor John thinks his parents didn’t love him, how do you think that makes him feel? We should have been there for all of our grandchildren, but instead, Victoria has shouldered a lot of responsibility, from a very young age.’

  Daisy hugged her sister. ‘And done a very good job, at that.’

  Victoria stared at the man standing in front of her, seeing for the first time an old man, trying to protect his way of life, in the only way he knew how. She stepped forward and put her arms around him. ‘It’s never too late.’ He didn’t return the hug, but she squeezed him tight, before stepping away. ‘We haven’t come to break up a family. We came to find one.’ She turned around, took Daisy’s arm and walked back to John’s room.

  *

  Alice gingerly lowered herself onto the wooden chair, at the white-clothed table inside the Monico Café. ‘I feel like a barrel, sitting here.’

  Molly giggled. ‘You’re definitely bigger than last time. It’s a good job it’s not the summer, because you’d block out the sunshine.’

  A smile played on Victoria’s lips, as she breathed in the strong aroma of coffee, infused with the hot food being carried to the surrounding tables. ‘You’re terrible, Molly; you wait until your turn comes.’

  Molly looked contrite for a few seconds. ‘Oh I’m sorry, I was only playing.’ She patted Alice’s hand. ‘You look well, but I definitely think you’re going to have a big baby.’

  Victoria slapped Molly’s hand with the menu. ‘I’m surprised you’re still coming to work, Alice. It must be due any time now.’

  Alice groaned. ‘I wish it was, but I think I have at least a month to go yet. Thank goodness I’ve at least started my Christmas shopping.’

  Molly smiled. ‘I’ve started mine too.’

  Alice fidgeted in the chair, dragging the pristine tablecloth with her. ‘I’m sorry.’ She straightened it. ‘So dare I ask, Victoria, what’s happening about your brother? And Molly, what’s happening about your parents moving to Percy Street?’

  Molly laughed. ‘Gosh, so many questions. You go first, Victoria.’

  Victoria stared down at the silver cutlery shining up at them. ‘You first, your answer will probably be much quicker than mine. In fact, I think asking Lloyd George about the war ending would probably be a quicker conversation.’

  Molly frowned, but quickly followed it with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘I don’t really have much to say, except they’re promising me they will move, as soon as Christmas is over with.’

  Alice smiled. ‘Well that’s good; it’s only a few weeks away.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Molly laughed. ‘To be honest, I’ll believe it when it happens. Andrew, bless him, has me ma picking out colours for all the rooms. He says he’ll get it painted and tidied up before they move in, but once again, me ma thinks it’s all a waste of money.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve told her, if she doesn’t pick anything, I’ll do it, and then she’ll be stuck with something she’ll probably hate.’ Molly laughed. ‘I’ve left me gran working on her.’

  Alice straightened her knife and fork. ‘I expect she’ll pick something in the end. Your ma has a strong spirit, but your gran’s is stronger.’

  Molly laughed. ‘That’s true.’ She glanced at Victoria. ‘Come on spit it out. Something has been bothering you, all day.’

  The waitress glided over to their table. ‘Are you ready to order?’

  Molly quickly looked at the girls, then back to the waitress. ‘Three teas and three slices of your finest chocolate cake please.’

  The waitress nodded, before turning away, straightening her black dress and the full white apron.

  Molly watched her move amongst the tables, brushing against the large leaves of the potted ferns. ‘They always come to the table when we’re about to get into it.’ She glanced around her. ‘I know we’ve said it before, but you wouldn’t know there was a war on, when you come here. It seems to be untouched by it. Even the large mirrors are shining, and crack-free. I wonder how they do it?’

  Alice followed Molly’s gaze. ‘I know what you mean; it’s not that far from the bomb that went off at Oxford Circus, but you would never know it.’

  Molly turned back to Victoria. ‘Now, Vic, remember what you told me, tea solves everything, so whatever is weighing heavily on your shoulders is about to disappear.’

  Alice sat looking from one friend to the other. ‘My goodness, things must be bad.’

  Molly ran her hands over the tablecloth, not taking her eyes off Victoria. ‘I know, it’s like a measuring stick of badness, isn’t it?’

  Alice nodded. ‘And there was nothing, nothing at all, not even a look.’

  Molly kept a straight face. ‘We might have to call a doctor out.’

  Victoria glanced from one to the other. ‘What on earth are you two on about?’

  Molly roared with laughter. ‘You, of course.’

  ‘What about me?’

  Molly shook her head. ‘I called you Vic, and for the first time in goodness knows how many years, you didn’t go mad at me. In fact, you didn’t even acknowledge it.’

  ‘I didn’t even notice.’

  ‘That’s exactly what we’re talking about,’ said Alice. ‘So come on, what is it? We know you
got to see John, but you haven’t given us any details, and clearly something is bothering you.’

  Molly and Alice both sighed, as the waitress appeared with the three slices of chocolate cake and the pot of tea. The girls sat in silence, as she put the teacups on their matching blue, floral china saucers and dropped silver spoons next to them. The heavy teapot was placed in the centre of the table, and the cake in front of each of them. The waitress nodded at them and turned to walk away.

  ‘You look terrible, Victoria. In fact, I haven’t seen you look this bad since the war started.’ Molly gasped. ‘It’s not Stephen, is it?’

  They waited for a few minutes, but Victoria sat staring at her cake.

  Molly let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Now look, Victoria, if this was me, which it was not that long ago, you’d be reading me the riot act and not allowing it to continue, so now it’s my turn, if you don’t start practising what you preach. I’m not having it.’ She paused. ‘Unless something has happened to Stephen, in which case, carry on, and I’m sorry.’

  Victoria had the urge to laugh out loud, but she knew it wouldn’t have been a humorous sound. She glanced up at Alice and Molly. ‘Stephen is missing, but as far as I know he’s alive. At least, I haven’t had a telegram to say otherwise. I’m not allowing myself to think that he isn’t. He’ll turn up, when I least expect it.’ She forced a laugh. ‘As for John, well I don’t know whether I’ll get to see him again. When Daisy and I went to Brighton, he was unconscious so I’m just preparing myself for the worst.’

  Molly grabbed Victoria’s hand. ‘Did you talk to him, like Elizabeth and I did Andrew? I’m convinced he knew we were there.’

  ‘Yes, we did, and Mabel took over after we left.’ Victoria sighed. ‘So you never know.’

  Alice studied Victoria’s pale features. ‘And your grandparents?’

  Victoria groaned. ‘My grandmother welcomed us with open arms, but my grandfather was the complete opposite. We definitely won’t be welcome in that house again.’

  Alice gave Victoria a sideways glance, as she took the lid off the teapot and began stirring the dark brown liquid. ‘Did you argue with him? I have to say, having been on the end of your tongue when you’re not happy, you probably caught him by surprise.’

  Victoria gave a faint smile. ‘I know you’re thinking about the pawn tickets, but I can tell you, I think I showed him respect – but I couldn’t stand by and let him bully us, or my grandmother.’

  Molly clapped her hands together and gave a beaming smile. ‘And here was I, wondering what we could be celebrating with this slice of cake. There it is – standing up to men, or women, but mainly men who wish to keep women in their place.’

  Alice and Victoria giggled.

  Alice poured the tea and added the milk. ‘You’re mad, do you know that?’

  Molly chuckled, as she picked up her cup and held it out to the centre of the table. ‘I have a toast, well actually, it’s two really.’ Alice and Victoria eyed each other with suspicion, but followed suit. ‘To the safety of our loved ones, at home or away, but this toast is for women everywhere. We’re all stronger than we think.’

  The women on the next table started clapping. ‘Well said.’

  Molly’s face turned a lovely shade of red, as she turned to them. ‘Thank you.’

  Victoria giggled. ‘You’ll be standing for prime minister, next.’

  *

  Victoria carefully followed Molly down the steps, into the basement at Foyles. The damp, musty smell became stronger as they went further down the stairs.

  Molly pushed the basement door open and stepped in, careful not to knock over the shopping bags that were propping each other up. ‘Morning, Albert.’ She craned her neck to look beyond the shelving, stacked high with books. ‘You’re not hiding from us, are you?’

  Victoria held the door, as she moved inside the basement. Shaking her head, but without a word, she moved the bags away from the doorway. She needed to have a word, before someone broke their neck on them. It was evident that Albert wasn’t policing them.

  Albert appeared from behind some racking, stacked with books. ‘Of course I ain’t. I’m not six, yer know.’

  Victoria let out a little chuckle. ‘Thank goodness.’ She let the door slide shut behind her. ‘I was a little worried, when you didn’t answer straight away.’

  Albert grunted. ‘There’s no need to worry yourselves, I’m sure.’

  Molly jumped up on to the table. ‘What’s wrong, Albert? I normally come down here when I want a laugh, but you don’t seem up to laughing this morning.’

  ‘Nah, I’m all right, I just ’ate Christmas.’ Albert gave them a sheepish look. ‘I always ’ave done, but now there’s only me and the wife, cos who knows where me sons are, fighting somewhere on some foreign bloody soil, no doubt.’

  Victoria fought the urge to give Albert a hug. ‘I know what you mean; Christmas doesn’t have the same excitement or appeal, since the boys went off to war. It feels wrong to be celebrating it.’ She paused. ‘I remember everyone saying how they’d be home for Christmas in 1914, and here we are looking for some decorations to bring in some Christmas cheer in 1917, with them still not back.’ She shook her head, and then wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t remember this damp smell, last time I came down. Has the rain got in? I don’t want you getting ill.’

  Albert gave a small smile. ‘Yer like me muvver.’ He picked up a book and gave it a flick through, before putting it on top of a pile of others. ‘I’ve told Mr Leadbetter; it’s only a small crack, but I’ve plugged it wiv newspaper at the moment.’

  Molly nodded. ‘That’s good. We’re here to take up the Christmas baubles for the shop window, so any ideas where we can find them?’

  ‘Ooh blimey.’ Albert stopped what he was doing and looked around the basement. ‘Where did we put them, when they were brought down ’ere, in January.’ He tapped his bony finger against his pursed lips. ‘Hmm, they may be in a cupboard at the back.’ He shuffled a little way along the aisle, between the racking, before turning to face the girls. ‘Come on, yer allowed further than the table.’

  Molly jumped down and followed Victoria.

  Victoria gasped as she looked around her. ‘I never realised all of the basement was full of books. We’re never going to sell all of these; we have no room for them in the shop, for one thing. How many do you think are down here?’

  Albert chuckled. ‘I ’ave no idea, thousands I expect. I just know it’s a never-ending job, cos more come in every day.’ He turned to glance at them. ‘But that’s a good fing for us, ain’t it?’

  Molly nodded. ‘It certainly is.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll ask if we can send some to the soldiers on the front line. After all, someone should be reading them,’ said Victoria.

  Molly grinned. ‘That’s so true, Victoria. It’s a waste, having all these books hidden away, depriving readers from enjoying them. I think I’ll send some books to Grace for Christmas, and maybe some colourful ribbon to tie back her hair.’

  Victoria giggled at Molly’s excitement.

  Albert pulled at the large wooden doors. They were stiff and unyielding. He placed the palm of one hand flat against one of the doors, while pulling hard on the other. The creaking sound told them it was on the brink of opening. When the door suddenly pulled free, Albert lost his balance and stepped back on to Victoria’s foot. ‘Sorry.’ He looked round at her. ‘Are yer all right? It caught me out, it did.’

  Victoria forced a smile, trying to hide the pain of her throbbing foot. ‘I’m fine, but I have to say, you’re heavier than you look.’

  Molly rubbed Victoria’s arm, as she stepped forward to study the contents of the cupboard. She pulled boxes forward and opened the flaps, to look inside. She dipped her hand in and moved a couple of things around. ‘This one looks like it’s full of paper chains, and it looks like there may be a couple of glass baubles at the bottom.’

  Albert stepped back. ‘Well, I’ll leave you girls to it, but
don’t leave a mess behind you for me to tidy up.’

  Victoria stepped forward. ‘Look at this.’ She pulled out some ruby red cloth. ‘We could hang this in the window, with some candles and baubles.’

  Molly brushed her hands together, before reaching out to touch the silky material. ‘It’s beautiful; too nice for a window, but it would be a shame not to use it.’ She glanced across at Victoria. ‘When you said candles, I trust you don’t intend to light them, this being a shop full of paper.’

  Victoria laughed. ‘Of course not, silly, I just thought it might look Christmassy.’

  Molly nodded. ‘We could buy some green ribbon, to tie around some books or something.’

  ‘That’s a good idea.’ Victoria’s eyes lit up, as the excitement took hold. ‘Why don’t we see what’s in these boxes, that we can use? Then we can make a list of what else is needed.’

  They spent the next hour pulling out paper chains, some too tired and crumpled to be used, while others were torn beyond repair. There were long strings of beads, and strands of tinsel, that could be added to the Christmas window display.

  22

  Victoria walked on to the ward, her bag full of twigs and colourful ribbon. She gasped. The ceiling had paper chains hanging from one side of the ward to the other. There were chains looped against the walls. Baubles hung on ribbon, off the light fittings. Women stood in the corner singing ‘Silent Night’. Christmas had arrived early at Endell Street Hospital. The men joined in with the singing, some more muted than others.

  ‘It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?’

  Victoria jumped at the woman’s voice, behind her. She turned to see a young nurse, looking up at the decorations hanging from the ceiling. ‘It is beautiful, I… I wasn’t expecting it at all.’ Victoria held up her bag. ‘I’ve been to the park to collect twigs.’ Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘I thought I’d tie some red and green ribbon around them and put them in a vase, but it doesn’t matter, I can put them in the Foyles Bookshop window tomorrow. They won’t go to waste.’ She gazed around her. ‘This looks beautiful.’