Annie listened to the director stopping everyone and throwing out his instructions so they could begin again. She leant into Rose and whispered, ‘I wonder what happened last night to bring everyone in early today.’ Her gaze never left the stage. She jumped every time Stan stopped the music and barked out his orders. A smile played on her lips as she remembered bossing David and Margaret around in a bid to perfect their little plays.
Three hours later it was brought to an end and Annie’s heart sank. She could have sat there mesmerised all day. She watched Stan march on to the stage, his footsteps heavy on the floorboards. He leant his hands on the piano and began talking to the pianist. Their voices were low but there was a lot of hand gesturing before the pianist smiled. They both laughed and nodded before Stan turned around to look at them both. The stage lights were dimmed. There was a clicking of heels as the cast began to leave the stage.
‘Mr Tyler.’ A young man’s voice carried in the empty theatre.
Stan turned and looked at the youngster. ‘What is it?’
The boy’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. ‘They say we could be at war tonight. If that’s true, what happens to the show?’
Stan turned to look at the entire cast as they stared wide-eyed at him. ‘The show must go on tonight, tomorrow and every night, regardless of what the government decides to do.’
The low murmurs gradually got louder as more people joined in.
Stan clapped his hands together. ‘Right get some rest because you’ve got a busy night ahead of you and I want the performances of your lives later.’
Kitty’s voice rang out across the stage. ‘Stan darling, have you found someone who can help me or do I still have to struggle on?’
The laughter disappeared from Stan’s face as he noted the contrast in the questions he had been asked. ‘It’s all in hand, Kitty, it’s all in hand.’
Rose nudged Annie’s arm. ‘Watch out, he’s coming over.’
Stan came down the steps at the side of the stage and stopped in front of them. He leant back and folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘Right you two, I don’t know how you came to get in this theatre unannounced but you did and now you’re here I’ve a proposition for you both.’
Rose’s top lip curled. ‘What… what sort of proposition? I know we’re in London but—’
‘I don’t know what type of man you take me for but I can assure you this is purely about work.’
Rose and Annie both breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Now we have that sorted out how would you… Rose, isn’t it?’
Rose nodded.
‘How would you feel about being a seamstress here at the theatre? You are clearly good with a needle.’
Rose beamed at him. ‘I’d love to, and it certainly beats working in a café.’ She chuckled at his confusion. ‘It doesn’t matter, I’d love to.’
‘Well, you better not cause me any trouble because I’m taking a risk with you because you haven’t been recommended to me.’
‘Don’t worry, sir, I’ll behave, or at least try to.’
‘Hmm, I can see already I might live to regret this decision.’ Stan turned to Annie. ‘I also have a job for you. You clearly seemed to hit it off with Kitty because I didn’t hear any yelling when you were dressing her, so I’m offering you a job as her dresser.’
Annie couldn’t hide her disappointment. ‘Sir, I do appreciate your job offer as I do need to work but I’ve come to London to be on the stage.’
Stan shook his head. ‘You and hundreds more like you but unfortunately, even if you were good enough, I don’t have any roles that need filling, so it’s the dresser’s job or nothing, I’m afraid.’
Rose glanced at her friend. ‘Take it, Annie; remember what you said about Joyce working in the café. At least you will be in the theatre and look what you can learn while you are here.’
‘Your friend speaks wisely but I’m afraid I need an answer now. You’ll both be needed here this evening but in a couple of weeks we move to The Aldwych Theatre, which is just up the road. It’s going to be pandemonium and you’ll need a sense of humour about you.’
*
Joyce stood on her front doorstep yawning. ‘I find it harder and harder every day to get out of the house by seven thirty in the morning.’ The heat from the sun was already promising to be suffocating. A couple of dogs could be heard barking somewhere in the distance, while a ginger cat was curled up on next door’s step. It looked relaxed but it had one eye open watching their every move. The cat’s ears wiggled as the door key clattered against the inside of the door as she pulled it shut. ‘Don’t forget when you get back later you just pull the string through the letterbox and then you can let yourself in but make sure you push it back through afterwards.’ Joyce stepped off the red painted doorstep. ‘I won’t be back until about five this afternoon but I’ll be at the Meet and Feast Café on Shaftesbury Avenue, which isn’t far from here, if you want to pop in for a chat.’ Joyce gave them a wistful look. ‘It’s a shame about the waitressing job, it might have been fun working together but at least you both have work, which is good news.’
Annie nodded. ‘Even if it’s not what I came here to do, at least I won’t be breaking crockery and glassware.’
Joyce smiled. ‘Maybe it’s not, but you’ve not been here long and you’ve found work in an area that interests you. Who knows what opportunities might come from it?’
Annie nodded. ‘I know you’re right.’ Her grandfather’s words suddenly crashed into her head, ‘It’s all about practice and perseverance.’
Rose smiled. ‘And it’s exciting! You’re going to be working with the star.’
Annie giggled. ‘That’s true, and she looks vaguely familiar to me.’ She pushed her arm through Rose’s. ‘It is exciting.’
‘Anyway, I better get going otherwise I will be late.’
Rose tucked her hand under Joyce’s arm; the thin material of her jacket sleeve did nothing to hide the gauntness of her body. ‘Can we walk with you or will we hold you up?’
‘No, we can go together.’ Joyce looked along the road before glancing up at the threatening black clouds that had appeared from nowhere and seemed to be hovering just above them. She wanted to make it to work before it started pouring down. ‘We’re going the same way, although we may not be able to walk in a line across the pavement, especially when we get to the market.’
The three of them stepped forward, and it didn’t take long for them to get caught up with the market traders. There were pockets of men huddled together deep in whispered conversation. The shop awnings were down protecting the windows from the heat of the August sun that was expected later if the rain held off. They weaved in and out of tables and barrows that appeared to be scattered all over the pavement. The four-storey buildings lorded over the people below. Some had signs emblazoned on the brickwork, advertising their business as far as the eye could see. The men were in different states of clothing: some wore raincoats and hats while others had disrobed and were in waistcoats and short sleeves as they worked their barrow. As the girls walked along it was hard to distinguish the smells around them as floral smells mixed with hot food and fresh fish. Children were moaning as they were dragged along to do the shopping.
A scrap of a boy yelled out. ‘Get yer newspapers ’ere.’ He picked a folded one and held it outstretched. ‘Come on folks, we’re now at war. Give me an ’apenny and I’ll give you a newspaper.’
Rose glanced at the boy as she walked by. His scuffed shoes and his trousers that were too short had seen better days. ‘Is that true? Are we really at war?’
Joyce turned and glanced at the boy. ‘Did you not hear the policeman ringing his bicycle bell last night? He was shouting it at the top of his voice?’
‘No, no I didn’t.’
‘Morning, ladies.’
Joyce peered over where she thought the sound was coming from but couldn’t see Peter anywhere.
A black dog came bounding towards them
weaving in-between the girls. Joyce smiled as she bent down to make a fuss of him. ‘Hello, Russell.’ She stood up and looked left and right. ‘Where’s your master?’
The dog jumped up on his hind legs and pawed at her lightweight jacket.
Joyce giggled and pushed the dog away from her. ‘I know you’re pleased to see me but what have you done with Peter?’
Russell trotted towards Annie and nudged his nose in her hand.
‘Hello, boy.’ Annie bent down and fussed the dog. The earthy smell of her father made her look up; she quickly scanned the faces around her.
‘Everything all right, Annie?’ Joyce frowned. ‘You’ve gone very pale.’
Annie shook her head. ‘I know this is going to sound ridiculous but I thought I could smell my father.’ Her eyes welled up. ‘It’s daft but for a moment I thought he had come to see me.’
Rose rubbed her hand on Annie’s arm, the soft cotton fabric of her sleeve moving with her. ‘It’s not silly at all.’
‘Where are you three lovely ladies off to today?’
Joyce spun round. ‘Work, of course. Where have you been hiding?’
It was only when Peter moved closer, Annie realised he had the same earthy smell.
Peter’s boyish smile spread across his face. ‘I wasn’t ’iding, I’ll ’ave you know I was stacking boxes so ’arry wouldn’t break his neck later.’
Rose lifted her eyebrows. ‘Harry?’
‘Yeh, he’s my nephew and considering he’s only fifteen years old he’s pretty useful to have around.’
Joyce giggled. ‘Is he going to be working in one of your shops when you start building your empire?’
‘I keep telling you there’s nothing wrong with dreams, and yes he will be.’ Peter glanced over at his barrow. ‘Young ’arry’s a ’ard worker and customers love him.’
Annie followed his lead and watched the young boy talking to a lady about her mother’s age. They were both smiling.
Peter turned back to the girls, his gaze fixed on Annie. ‘If you girls would like someone to show you around the sights of London, I’m your man.’
Annie couldn’t stop her smile from lighting up her face. ‘Oh wouldn’t that be wonderful, Rose?’
‘It would be and it’s very kind of you to offer, but wouldn’t you struggle to find the time, Peter?’
Peter laughed. ‘Trust me, there’s always time to show some pretty girls around the sights.’
Annie blushed.
Joyce sighed and raised her eyes heavenward. ‘Stop with your old flannel, will you? You just can’t help yourself.’ She turned back to her friends. ‘Take no notice of him, his chat to his customers sometimes spills over to when he’s talking to friends.’
Peter dropped his mouth open in horror. ‘Charming.’ He chuckled. ‘No matter what Joyce says I would like to take you round to see the sights, maybe on Sunday, if you’re not busy. Speaking of which, did you go to Buckingham Palace last night to see the king?’
Joyce stared at him. ‘No, why would we?’
Peter shook his head. ‘You do know we’re now at war, don’t yer? The old peeler came round on his bicycle blowing his whistle and making his announcement.’
Rose and Annie looked at each other and shrugged. ‘I thought it was a policeman, what’s a peeler?’
‘Sorry ladies, peelers to us is police to you.’ Peter chuckled. ‘Anyway young ’arry was telling me this morning it was packed up there with crowds cheering, waving and singing the national anthem too. I should have gone but all these early starts don’t make for late nights. It was lucky it was a warm evening.’
Rose looked disappointed. ‘We missed our chance to see the king!’
Colour flooded Annie’s face. ‘I heard the newspaper boy say it but are you saying it’s true then, are you saying we’re at war with the Germans?’
Peter nodded.
‘Oh my.’ Annie frowned. ‘I know there was talk of it. I heard some men talking with the theatre doorman, but I got the impression none of the men thought the shooting of that Austrian had anything to do with us so nothing would come of it.’
Peter held Annie’s gaze for a moment before clearing his throat. ‘That’s what most people thought but now everyone’s worried about what’s going to ’appen next.’ He glanced over at his barrow. ‘Everyone seems to think it will be over quickly but we’ll have to wait and see.’
‘Let’s hope so, I don’t really want to think about it.’ Joyce sighed. ‘Anyway, as much as I’d love to stand and chat with you all day, I have a job to get to, and I’m already going to be late again.’
A mischievous smile spread across Peter’s face. ‘You should leave that café and come and work for me.’
‘Hah, you couldn’t afford me.’ Joyce turned to saunter away but then remembered her friends and peered over her shoulder. ‘Are you two coming or do you want to make your own way?’
Peter raised his hand. ‘I’ll see you here on Sunday morning, and if you’re not ’ere I’ll come to the house and––’
‘No you won’t, Peter Lewis, we’ll meet you here at nine o’clock.’
Peter chuckled. ‘Works every time, but one day I’ll come to your house, you’ll see.’
Rose grabbed Annie’s arm and almost pulled her over as she marched forward. ‘We’re coming with you.’
Annie pulled her arm back and steadied herself. ‘What do you think it means?’ She peered over her shoulder to see Peter watching them walking away.
Rose swung round. ‘What, us going to war?’
Joyce glanced over her shoulder at her friends. She had heard nothing else for weeks in the café but talk of the suffragettes, the possibility of a general strike and more recently going to war. She had learnt a long time ago to keep her thoughts to herself, no one liked a woman with an opinion. ‘I get the impression nobody thought we’d go to war over a shooting of an Austrian. The men in the café were more worried about the threats of a general strike and how that could push prices up and bring the country to its knees, especially if the Dockers walked out.’
Annie frowned as she watched Joyce striding forward. ‘I hope our families will be safe back home.’
‘If I understand it correctly, it’s because the Germans are destroying Belgium, not just the country but women and children too.’
Rose gasped. ‘That’s terrible! What gives them the right to just walk into another country and try to take over? All those innocent people… It’s awful.’
Joyce nodded. ‘I agree but I think we’ll be all right here because we’re an island and the talk is, it won’t take long to sort them out.’
Annie sighed. ‘Let’s hope so.’
7
Ivy placed Annie’s opened letter on the kitchen table between her and Tom. Sighing, she couldn’t understand Tom; she missed hearing Annie singing and humming around the house and would give anything to even hear the tapping, which used to drive her mad at times.
William glanced at the envelope and picked up his tea plate. ‘It’s a lovely day so I’ll just eat my lunch outside. Where’s Margaret?’
Tom looked at his father. ‘I’ve lost track of her, but I think she’s outside.’
William glanced across at Ivy. ‘I’ll leave you two to it.’ He nudged Tom with his elbow. ‘And it’s about time you started listening to your wife. Trust me as someone that has lost a daughter it’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy.’
Ivy nodded. ‘Thank you.’
William smiled. ‘You might have to take the rolling pin to him, he’s always been stubborn.’
Tom glared at his father. ‘Whose side are you on?’
William chuckled. ‘I’d have thought that was obvious.’ He walked towards the door and went outside. ‘Ah, there you are, Margaret…’ The door banged shut behind him.
Ivy stared at her husband. ‘Are you going to read it?’
Tom didn’t look up from his egg sandwich. ‘No!’
‘You can’t keep being mad at her
for doing what she wants.’
Tom bit into his sandwich, licking the crumbs from his lips.
Ivy stared at him for several minutes. ‘I don’t understand, Tom. God knows, I know you can be stubborn but I’ve never known you to be like this before. Don’t you want to know how she is, or what she’s doing?’
Tom glared at his wife, his eyes as cold as steel. ‘She made her choice. I… we… are not important enough for her to stay and live here with us.’
Ivy shook her head. ‘Tom, this is about her trying to fulfil her dream and nothing else. You didn’t even say goodbye to her, your own child. What if something happens and she doesn’t come back for whatever reason. Aren’t you going to regret sulking the way you are? This country is at war! Anything could happen. Doesn’t it bother you?’
‘What bothers me is you talking to me in this manner, it’s not acceptable.’ Tom stood up, his chair scraping across the floor. He picked up half of his sandwich from his plate. ‘I shall eat this outside where, hopefully, I can get some peace.’ He took a step away from the table. ‘As for the war, well, that’s out of my control as, it indeed appears, is my family.’
Ivy picked up the letter and turned it over in her hands. ‘Don’t you know this breaks my heart as well? I didn’t want her to go. I miss her so much but we raised our children to be strong and know their own mind so we can’t then complain when that works against us.’
Tom dropped his sandwich back on the tea plate and began pacing around the kitchen. ‘I don’t understand how you can be so calm about it.’ He stopped and stared at her. His voice dropped to barely a whisper. ‘You look so tired all the time, and I’m sure you’re thinner than you used to be, and I blame Annie for that.’
Ivy glared at him. ‘Well, that’s just not fair. Margaret is helping out more, she’s picking up most of the jobs that Annie used to do.’
‘For now. What happens when she decides to follow her sister?’
Ivy smiled. ‘Is that what this is all about? Margaret has no desire to leave the farm or the village.’
‘Yet!’
Ivy rested her fingers on the table and pushed herself upright. The chair fell backwards; she reached out and caught it just before it hit the floor. ‘This breaks my heart and I don’t know what to say or do to make it better.’ She picked up the teapot and walked over to the sink. ‘Do you not think all this is affecting Margaret? She’ll end up leaving because you, we, are making her miserable.’ She turned on the tap and water gushed out soaking everything in its path. She fought the tears that were threatening to spill over as she quickly turned off the tap.
a heartwarming WW1 saga about love and friendship (The West End Girls Book 1) Page 11