a heartwarming WW1 saga about love and friendship (The West End Girls Book 1)

by Elaine Roberts

  Kitty poured a small amount of brandy into a cup and took it over to Dot. ‘Give her this, she’ll soon come round.’

  ‘I don’t know, Rose, but that’s what it looks like to me.’ Dot put down the water she was holding and took the cup from Kitty. She held it up to her nose and jerked her head back. ‘How on earth do you drink this?’ Dot wrinkled her nose in distaste.

  Kitty smiled. ‘It’s a struggle but I persevere with it.’ Her smile faded. ‘Now put it on Annie’s lips. I’m expecting between the smell and the taste we should get a face like you just pulled and that will bring her round.’

  Dot hesitated for a moment but did as Kitty instructed, pouring a small amount between Annie’s lips.

  Annie started coughing and groaning, then suddenly her eyelashes began fluttering until they finally opened a little.

  Kitty laughed. ‘I told you it would work.’ She turned to Stan. ‘See, I do only keep it for medicinal purposes.’

  Stan smiled and wrapped his arm around Kitty’s shoulders. ‘Well, on this occasion, I’m certainly glad you had it.’

  Annie tried to pull herself up but Dot patted her arm. ‘Sit still for a minute.’ She passed the cup back to Kitty and picked up the cup of water. ‘Here, drink this.’

  ‘What is it?’ Annie croaked.

  They all smiled as relief spread around the room. Dot took Annie’s hand. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not brandy, it’s only water.’

  Annie nodded and took the cup, while Dot held her hands outstretched in case she dropped it. ‘I’m so hot and thirsty.’ She took a gulp of water.

  ‘Don’t gulp it, just sip it. I don’t want you being sick,’ Dot admonished.

  Annie peered over the brim of the cup. ‘Sorry, I’m just so dry.’

  Rose stood watching Annie closely, her throat tight. If they’d listened to Matthew, Annie could have been stuck in that cupboard all night… she might have even died in there. Her chin wobbled as she tried to hold back her tears. ‘Annie, how are you feeling?’

  ‘Not too bad, thank you.’ Annie gave a weak smile. ‘A little shaky and weak but I think I’ll be all right.’

  Rose nodded. ‘You probably need to drink more. Are you up to telling us what happened?’

  Annie glanced round at the four expectant faces staring down at her. She took another sip of water to stop her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. ‘I don’t know there’s much to tell. I came to see you with Kitty’s dress – oh my goodness, the dress! I’m so sorry I couldn’t find another dress. What are we going to do about the show tonight?’ Annie’s words tumbled over each other in their bid to be heard.

  Dot rubbed Annie’s hand. ‘Stop worrying about the dress. I managed to repair the one you brought in.’

  Annie breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness for that.’ She took another sip of water. ‘I did what I said, I went to the storage cupboard to look for a replacement costume just in case…’ She paused; her hand clutched at her skirt and the other gripped the cup she was holding. ‘I had trouble opening the door but I managed it in the end and I’d only been in there a few minutes when the door slammed shut behind me.’ Her eyes welled up. ‘I tried to open it but it wouldn’t give. I kept shouting but nobody seemed to hear me. I didn’t think anyone was going to come and rescue me.’ She sniffed and a tear ran down her cheek; she swiped it away with her fingers. ‘Then I heard Kitty’s voice so I tried again.’

  Kitty frowned. ‘Did you see Matthew at all?’

  Annie shook her head. ‘He was playing the piano though when I went in there.’

  Rose’s eyes widened. The realisation of what had actually happened suddenly hit her. ‘That’s right he was, Dot and I commented on it. We hear it quite loudly in the sewing room.’

  Dot nodded, her expression telling Rose she had caught up with her train of thought. ‘That’s right and then it went quiet for about five, maybe ten minutes, remember?’

  Stan’s mouth dropped open. ‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’

  Kitty took a sip of the brandy that was left in the cup Annie had used. ‘That depends on what you think we are saying.’

  Stan waved his arms in the air in disbelief. ‘Are you saying Matthew locked her in the cupboard?’

  Annie’s mouth dropped open. ‘Are you… are you saying he was trying to get rid of me like he did the last dresser you had?’

  ‘Yes, that is what we’re saying but as always we have no proof.’ Kitty grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. ‘He didn’t think it through properly but he’s told you about the last one so you now know too much.’

  Rose stared from one to the other. ‘Have I missed something?’

  Annie stared at Kitty. ‘No, we just know Matthew was the reason Kitty’s last dresser got the sack.’

  Kitty nodded.

  Rose glanced between the two of them and her intuition told her they were hiding something, and it probably had something to do with the bruising on Annie’s face.

  Peter ran into the dressing room, gasping for breath, his face drained of colour as he stared at Annie. ‘I’m sorry to barge in. Bert told me you’d been locked in a cupboard, are yer all right?’

  Annie nodded. ‘Yes, I’m just a little shaken.’

  Relief ran across Peter’s face. ‘Thank goodness.’ He tightened his lips for a moment, studying her face. ‘Was it Matthew Harris?’

  ‘I think the door just got stuck, that’s all.’ Annie frowned, not letting her eyes move to the others.

  Rose met Kitty’s sideways look and shook her head.

  Annie spoke quickly before anyone else could. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Peter suddenly became aware of the many faces staring at him. ‘I’m sorry, I should leave, I just panicked when Bert told me.’ He paused, catching his breath. ‘I came to see if yer had a break we could maybe get a bite to eat or something.’ Peter fidgeted from one foot to the other. ‘Anyway, as long as you’re all right I’d better go.’ He gazed at Annie for a few seconds before turning to walk away.

  Kitty looked from Peter to Annie, smiling as she took in the way they were gazing at each other. ‘Wait, I didn’t catch your name, but someone needs to sit with Annie, you know look after her or take her home.’

  Annie peered up at Kitty. ‘That’s not necessary, I can work. I just need a minute.’

  Stan looked at Peter. ‘I think, looking at your young man, he needs a minute too so it might be nice if you had a minute together and, if you’re up to it you can come back to work tomorrow.’

  Peter turned back and the smile shone from him. ‘I will always look after her.’

  Colour rushed into Annie’s face.

  *

  Joyce took a deep breath. ‘Uncle Arthur, we need to clean out the basement so we can be safe when the Germans drop their bombs.’

  Arthur glared at Joyce with the usual cigarette hanging from his bottom lip. ‘I’ve already said no.’

  Joyce resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the stench of stale alcohol wafting in her direction. ‘But the police are telling us to take cover in the basement of our homes otherwise we could all die if we’re bombed.’

  ‘I said no. What’s down there is private and it will stay that way.’ Arthur pulled a cigarette out of a packet. He closed the box and tapped it up and down a few times before pointing his index finger at her. ‘I’m not having you girls going through anything down there.’

  Joyce lifted her head and jutted out her chin defiantly. ‘You could always sort it out.’ Fear gripped her as the glint of steel appeared in his eyes, but she decided it was too important to ignore. ‘We just need to make room so we can stay down there all night if necessary.’ Her chin dropped a little as her courage began to fade away.

  Rose took a deep breath and stepped forward. ‘Mr Bradshaw, it’s not our intention to pry into your personal affairs, we just need to be able to go somewhere safe should the Germans decide to bomb this street. Our families would be quite troubled to hear we have n
owhere safe to go in these troubled times.’

  Annie’s mouth dropped open.

  Joyce turned and stared at Rose. Was she trying to appeal to his softer side? Hadn’t she worked out he didn’t have one?

  Arthur went to put his cigarette in between his lips when he realised there was one still there. He glanced at the girls to see if they were watching. ‘You girls are driving me mad this morning. I don’t even remember having lit a cigarette.’

  Annie stepped forward and rested her hand on Arthur’s creased cotton shirt. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Bradshaw, that was never our intention, but in light of the many people dying when Scarborough and Hartlepool were bombed, we just feel we should start organising ourselves a little and follow the advice given by the police.’

  Arthur stared at Annie for what felt like an eternity. ‘All right, but I don’t want you rifling through the boxes that are down there, do you understand?’

  The girls all beamed at him and spoke in unison. ‘Yes, sir.’

  Annie stood on tiptoes; she held her breath against the odour that was always around him and lightly kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, you can trust us.’

  Colour seeped into Arthur’s pale complexion. ‘Well, time will tell. Personally, I don’t think you can trust anyone.’ He took the couple of steps to the dresser and opened a drawer. Paper rustled and there was a clang of metal hitting metal as Arthur rummaged inside it. He suddenly pulled out a key and turned it over in his hand, studying it intently. ‘The basement hasn’t been opened for a few years now so I expect it’s quite dusty down there.’ He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving the key. ‘Perhaps I should come down there with you just in case something needs lifting or moving.’

  Joyce wasn’t sure what had just happened but she felt her heart melting towards her uncle. Tears pricked at her eyes. ‘Thank you, it means a lot to us all.’

  Arthur nodded. He clutched the key tight in his hand and took a deep breath. ‘Come on then, let’s get it over and done with.’ He strode out into the hall and put the key in the door to the basement. He tried to turn it but it wasn’t moving. He took the key out again; bending down he blew into the lock. ‘I don’t know if that will work or not. I might have to find something to oil it with.’

  Joyce frowned. ‘Would butter on the key help.’

  Arthur gave her a rare smile. ‘Maybe, but I’ll try this first.’ He sucked in his breath and blew hard into the keyhole. The blowing quickly turned to coughing and Joyce stepped forward to pat his back.

  ‘Do you want me to try?’

  Arthur shook his head as he gasped for breath. ‘No, I can do it.’ He placed the key back into the lock and gripped the end. He jiggled the key up and down before pressing hard as he tried to turn it. A grinding noise sounded out as though the lock was adding its objections to his. Arthur shook his head and took another deep breath before putting his weight behind turning the key in the lock.

  Joyce watched his face turn red with exertion; she hadn’t seen that much determination on his face for years.

  Arthur lost his balance as the key suddenly gave way and turned. A grating noise filled the hallway. He smiled. ‘Got there in the end. Perhaps it would be safer not to lock it again.’ He took the key out of the lock and opened the door.

  ‘Wait.’ Joyce turned and ran into the dining room.

  They all looked confused as they watched her hurry away.

  A few minutes later Joyce returned carrying a chair and a beeswax candle. ‘Uncle, have you got a match?’ She put the chair down next to the open door. ‘In light of what happened in the theatre I’m going to prop this door open. I don’t want you worrying about it.’

  Annie nodded. ‘I try not to think about it, Joyce, otherwise it’ll give me nightmares and I’ll never do anything.’

  Arthur fished out a box of matches from his trouser pocket. ‘Good thinking, well done.’

  Rose nodded. ‘The whole thing frightened me but Dot and Kitty were wonderful and Stan carried you back to Kitty’s room.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I wonder if it was Matthew?’

  Annie tightened her lips at the thought of what might have been. She was thankful Rose didn’t know about his kiss and him slapping her around the face.

  Joyce stroked Annie’s arm. ‘You’re safe now and that’s all that matters.’

  Arthur struck a match; the smell of burning sulphur carried in the flame as he lit the candle.

  Rose raised her eyebrows. ‘It seems Peter was right about him all along. I should have let him knock his block off like he wanted to.’

  Arthur took the candle from Joyce and led the way down each creaking step.

  The candlelight lit up the cobwebs hanging from the wooden beams. The musty damp smell rushed up to greet them in a bid to escape captivity. There were boxes stacked on top of each other. Several old wooden chairs stood in a line in the corner. Shelves ran along one wall but they were covered with bags and what looked like folded pieces of material.

  Rose gasped. ‘Mr Bradshaw, it looks like a treasure trove.’

  He stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs and looked up towards her. ‘Remember, you promised me you wouldn’t go rifling through things.’

  Rose smiled as she looked around her. ‘And I won’t, but from what I can see it all looks wonderful.’ She peered down at him. ‘For example, is that material I can see on those shelves because if it is, I could make some cushions for us to sit on and we could use those wooden chairs as well.’ She scanned the room looking for things to use.

  Annie laughed. ‘You sound quite excited.’

  ‘I am.’ Rose glanced back at Arthur. ‘No matter how excited I am, I won’t use anything without your permission, I promise.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘You can use the material, although I don’t know what condition anything is in down here because as you’ve probably worked out it hasn’t seen the light of day for many years.’

  Rose nodded. ‘We might have to wash it first but I’m happy to do that.’

  Arthur sat the candle on a small table in the centre of the basement.

  Joyce looked around her. ‘This is going to take some time to make it comfortable but I suppose the sooner we start the sooner we finish.’

  Annie wrinkled her nose. ‘Mr Bradshaw, does that small window over the far side open? I was just thinking it would be good to get some fresh air blowing through; even though it’s cold it won’t kill us for a little while to have it open.’

  ‘I’ll have a look.’

  Joyce watched her uncle for a moment, puzzled, but not unhappy, with his momentary change of heart. ‘Annie, will you help me bring down the broom, some cleaning cloths and disinfectant?’

  ‘Of course.’

  The two girls began to climb the stairs. Joyce turned at the top to see Arthur pushing open the window. ‘I wonder why he changed his mind. I think it’s something to do with you.’

  Annie gave her a look of confusion. ‘Me? I didn’t do anything. Rose was the one that surprised me, I didn’t know she had it in her to be so tactful.’

  Joyce smiled. ‘I know, I was shocked too, but it was when you spoke to him that he seemed to change his mind.’

  Annie shrugged. ‘I think that’s just a coincidence.’

  Joyce’s lips tightened into a straight line as she thought about it. ‘Maybe, but I’m not so sure. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, he’s in the best mood I’ve seen him in for a long time.’

  Annie nodded. ‘That’s what matters. I wouldn’t worry about the whys and wherefores, and after all we have enough to worry about without wondering why someone is happy.’

  Joyce laughed. ‘Yes, it does sound daft when you put it like that.’

  16

  Joyce looked back at the bare Christmas tree that Peter had dropped round earlier that morning. She had insisted he left it on the doorstep and the girls had helped her get it into the house. They had potted it to hold it steady and carried it into the dining room. The pine of the needles gave a fresh smel
l to the room, and for the first time in years Joyce could feel excitement stirring in her stomach. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to decorate it with, unless there are any baubles in the basement.’

  Annie raised her eyebrows. ‘That will be difficult to find out because we promised your uncle we wouldn’t go through anything down there.’

  Rose tapped her finger against her lips for a moment. ‘What about tying bows on the branches? I’m sure between us we can rummage up enough ribbon, or I don’t mind popping into John Lewis to buy some.’

  Annie and Joyce both smiled at her.

  Joyce hugged Rose. ‘That’s a great idea, and cheap too. Let’s see what we can gather together between us.’

  They all went to their bedrooms and reappeared ten minutes later laying their various bundles of ribbon on the dining table.

  Rose started straightening them out, laying them all next to each other. ‘We’ve got quite a lot here between us, and lots of different colours too.’

  Joyce frowned. ‘I don’t think there’s enough to do the whole tree though.’

  Annie’s gaze drifted from the table to the tree and back again. ‘What if we only dress the front of the tree? After all no one sees the back and anyway, there’s only us here to see it.’

  Joyce beamed. ‘That’s a great idea, we could give it a try and see what it looks like.’

  The girls each took several ribbons and concentrated on separate parts of the tree.

  Annie smiled at her friends. ‘Shall we sing some carols and really get into the swing of it all?’

  Colour rose in Joyce’s face. ‘I love Christmas carols but I’m afraid I don’t have a very good voice for singing.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘None of that matters, it’s not about singing it properly, it’s about throwing yourself into it and enjoying yourself.’

  Rose nodded. ‘All right, you’re the one with the voice so you can start us off.’

  Annie could feel the heat rushing into her face but took a deep breath. ‘All right, what about “Once In Royal David’s City”?’