‘Oh,’ Stella delved in her bag. ‘Wine gums from Josefina and a magazine from Lilli.’ She passed these to Florence, adding, ‘And a letter from Manny.’
‘Not his resignation at being worked so hard, I hope,’ Florence said. She tucked the letter under her pillow. The girls were obviously curious, but she wasn’t opening it yet!
Florence actually forgot about the letter until it was almost time for lights out. As the nurse tidied her bed and plumped her pillows, she asked, ‘What’s this?’
Feeling rather like Josefina, Florence read the letter under the covers.
Dear Florence,
I was pleased to hear all is well.
I have not found the extra work too tiring and if possible I would like to continue, after you are able to get back to the pie-making. That is if you can afford to pay me a bit more. Will you be so kind as to think about it and let yours truly, Manny, know.
Florence smiled to herself. She refolded the letter and replaced it in the envelope. A sudden preposterous idea struck her. Was it the effects of the gas, she wondered. ‘Think about it’, he said. Well, she certainly would, and he might well be surprised at her thoughts! But first, there was Stella to sort out, and that might not be an easy task.
*
Josefina and Yvette went off to school on Tuesday morning. They were glad to be back to normal – gazing in the shop windows and skirting the cracks in the pavement. The only thing was, Stella hadn’t thought to give them their apple money. Josefina clutched the greengrocery list. She entered the shop while Yvette waited outside. She knew Mrs Snelgrove watched her.
There was the usual haphazard display of fruit on a trestle table. Oranges, Yvette noted. She glanced furtively around, then through the greengrocer’s window. Mrs Snelgrove and her daughters were asking after Florence.
Yvette put out a stealthy hand. Her fingers curled round a large orange. She hesitated. Where could she put it? Her pockets weren’t capacious enough to conceal it.
There was a touch on her shoulder. She let the orange go, spun around. A tall man stood there, a stranger. Maman had warned her about talking to people she didn’t know.
‘I don’t think your mother would like you to do that,’ he said reprovingly. ‘You are Mrs Bower’s daughter, I believe, Yvette?’
She nodded mutely. The man raised his hat politely, as if she was a grown woman.
‘Please tell your mother I have been away, but that I will see her soon. Now, you should hurry on to school, I think. The bell is ringing.’
‘But, who are you?’ Yvette faltered.
‘Philippe Solon. She will know when you say the name. Goodbye for now, Yvette.’
Mrs Snelgrove had spotted them in conversation, through the window. She came hurrying out, followed by Josefina.
‘Who was that?’ she asked, arms akimbo, as she stared after the retreating figure.
‘A friend of Maman’s, I think,’ Yvette faltered. She daren’t look at the oranges.
‘Here.’ Mrs Snelgrove took a small vegetable knife from her pocket and sliced a juicy fruit in two. She wrapped the sticky orange pieces in paper. ‘Half each, instead of an apple. Off you go, then. Be good, girls!’
Miss Darch was waiting at the school gate for the stragglers. ‘Hurry up!’ she called to Josefina and Yvette. ‘I’m sure you were sent off in good time – you’ve been dawdling!’
*
‘Oh dear,’ Lilli exclaimed when Yvette passed on the message from Philippe Solon. She’d called in at Florence’s flat after work to see Stella and they’d enjoyed a chat while they waited for the girls to return from school.
‘What’s up?’ Stella asked, intrigued.
Lilli hesitated. Then she said, ‘You two should get changed before tea. Off you go.’ When she and Stella were alone, she continued. ‘This man, I can’t be sure, but I think he’s been following me. Oh, he doesn’t seem to be – oh, how can I put it – sinister, but he obviously has a purpose. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he is French, either.’
‘Maybe he was asked to find you, eh?’
The girls emerged from Josefina’s room. ‘Just going up to Yvette’s now, back in five minutes!’ Then they went off upstairs.
‘I don’t think five minutes is long enough to tell you my story,’ Lilli told Stella. ‘Even Florence doesn’t know all of it, and Rose Marie, well, she’s too young to confide in. But I think you will understand because you also have abandoned your husband.’
‘I certainly didn’t abandon him – it was the other way around!’ Stella sounded affronted.
‘I’m sorry, of course, you are right. But you couldn’t live with him any more, eh?’
‘That’s true. But you were widowed, that’s different.’
‘Stella, my husband, as far as I know, is alive, and probably he is very angry because I left him and did not say where I was going. In fact, then I did not know myself.’
‘So it looks as if I may be right about this mystery man!’
‘What do you advise me to do?’
‘We’ll talk about it later, here come the children! But I think you are in more trouble than I am, Lilli. Let’s keep it to ourselves.’
*
Florence arrived home on Wednesday afternoon, early closing day in the shop. Manny came rushing out from the basement, to assist her from the taxi and to carry her bag.
‘Are you sure you should have come home so soon?’ he asked anxiously.
‘Stop fussing, Manny, you know me better than that.’ But Florence smiled.
Stella was ready to receive her, with Florence’s chair drawn up to the stove, because an unexpected nip in the air was a reminder that autumn was in the offing.
‘Stay, Manny,’ Florence said, when he turned to leave them. ‘I’d like to have a little talk with you; no time like the present, eh? We can retire to the sitting-room after we’ve had that cup of tea. Thank you, Stella, just what I can do with.’
‘I’ll get on with the supper, shall I?’ Stella asked. She had something to tell Florence herself, but that could wait. She hoped that Florence was to ask Manny to continue with the pie-making after the brief span she’d reluctantly decided to allot to her convalescence.
‘Yes please. You came home at the right time, Stella – just when I needed you!’
Stella bit her lip. I can’t play happy families here, she thought, I can’t.
A little later, Florence and Manny adjourned to the other room.
Manny fetched the small footstool for her to rest her feet on. ‘You must be weary.’
‘Actually, I find I am. I want to do so much, but I realize it’s not possible just yet.’
He sat in the armchair opposite the sofa. ‘You have something to say, Florence? Is it about my note? Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked you what I did – not yet, anyway.’
‘I had the feeling when I read it, there was more you wanted to say.’
He cleared his throat, but didn’t confirm her supposition.
Florence said, after a long pause, ‘I realized when I was in hospital that I have been concerned with pie-making since I was not much more than a child, and with the demands of the family, that I’m becoming middle-aged before my time. Before I know it, Rose Marie will leave me, as Stella did; though I pray she won’t make a mess of her life as her sister has. Stella, I can tell, is already restless, and will be off again, with or without Josefina—’
‘At least you’ll still have her,’ Manny ventured.
‘Oh, I love her as if she was my own flesh and blood, but the fact is, she isn’t. Stella must face up to her responsibilities. Soon, I could be on my own, and this place could seem far from paradise then. Manny, how would you like to become my partner in the business? I realized you’d had a decent upbringing, an education, when we first met, despite the circumstances. The girls won’t want to take it on in the future. We are a good team. I trust you. What do you say?’ It almost sounded as if she was pleading with him.
‘I want to
say yes, and thank you, Florence. But, are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. In fact, that’s not all.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Why don’t we put it on a proper footing and get married? I realize you don’t love me, I’ve seen those wistful glances you give my Rose Marie, but you must realize nothing can come of that. You and I get on very well together, and as I said, I don’t want to be left on my own.’
‘You’re a good woman, Florence.’
‘I’m a normal woman!’ she flashed back. ‘I’m thirty-four, does that seem too old to you?’
‘Of course not, I’m not much younger, but there’s things you don’t know about me . . .’
‘Unless you already have a wife somewhere, the past should be buried.’
He shook his head vehemently. ‘No wife.’ Then he realized that her eyes were brimming with tears. He moved quickly to her side. His arms encircled her, comforting and strong. She didn’t attempt to break away. He held her close for some time, but nothing more.
‘Are you trying to tell me, yes?’ she whispered tremulously.
‘I suppose I am,’ he said wonderingly.
NINE
FLORENCE waited until suppertime to spring the news, when Rose Marie joined them. Florence didn’t press Manny to stay, and Josefina was already in bed. They were eating late.
Savoury mince and dumplings; Florence didn’t tell Stella she’d had the same for lunch in the hospital. She toyed with the mashed potato.
When the plums and custard were eaten, she spoke up at last.
‘I’m not sure what you two will make of this, but Manny and I are to be married.’
Rose Marie was the first to speak. ‘Why?’
‘It seems the best solution . . .’
‘To what?’ Stella demanded.
‘To be honest, I want to free you girls from any obligation to me,’ Florence responded.
‘I don’t understand,’ Rose Marie told her.
‘You’ve your own lives to lead. You don’t have to be tied to the pie shop like me. There’s another reason. Father left everything to me, on condition I looked after you both. I was happy to do so. There was a clause in his will, typical of the man he was. Cautious, stern, but on the whole, fair, with one exception . . . I won’t go into that. Some of the capital was not to be released until I married, or reached the age of forty, whichever came first. I suppose this was to be my reward for bringing you up.
‘This hospital business – it made me think. I feel I had a lucky escape; I want to change my life. Now! I don’t want to wait another five and a half years. I intend to share the money with you both. Stella, you can be independent of Jose, and Rose Marie, your future is assured. Don’t look so shocked! We’ll all be set up!’
‘It’s just that, why Manny?’ Rose Marie asked.
‘Who else? This is no place to meet eligible men. We’re comfortable, he and I. If you’re wondering, he doesn’t know yet about the money, and you’re not to tell him. I’m realistic. I’m not looking for romance.’
‘A companion, you mean?’ Stella tried to make sense of it all.
‘Not just that, I hope.’ Florence smiled. ‘Does that shock you? I’d like to know what all the fuss is about!’
Rose Marie rose to the occasion. ‘If you’re happy, I am, too!’
‘So am I!’ Stella added quickly. She decided to keep the news that she had a job in the offing, to herself, for now. ‘Let’s have a glass of sherry to celebrate, rather than tea, eh?’
Florence surprised them again. ‘Something stronger for me; I want to sleep tonight!’
*
Stella spent a restless night, wondering how much money might be involved – she thought it would be indelicate to ask Florence that – and how it would make a difference to their lives. When Manny arrived to help her with the early morning pie-making, she decided to tell him she knew about him and Florence.
‘Congratulations Manny! I had no idea, nor did Rose Marie.’
‘You don’t mind, then?’ He sounded anxious.
‘Of course not. So long as its what you both want.’
Manny wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that.
Rose Marie came through into the kitchen, ready to leave for work.
‘Good news, Manny! When’s the wedding to be?’
‘You’ll have to ask Florence about that,’ he said shyly. ‘She’ll decide.’
‘I have already,’ Florence said, from the doorway. She wore her comfortable kimono. She had a broad beam on her face and looked younger, with her hair all ruffled.
‘You promised to stay in bed until the baking was done!’ Stella chided.
‘Oh, I won’t lift a finger to help you, that’s another promise! Manny, I’ll be fit and ready to marry you in six weeks’ time, mid-October. We’ll shut the shop for a few days and have a holiday. We both deserve it. Stella, I’ve a feeling you’ve something to say – am I right?’
‘I’ve been offered a solo singing engagement, and more to come, if I do well.’
‘When is this?’
‘I told the agency I have to do my bit here while you’re resting up, Florence.’ Stella felt guilty, because she had used the telephone to good effect during Florence’s absence.
‘I must go!’ Rose Marie chimed in. ‘See you tonight!’
‘We’ll talk more then,’ Florence said. ‘Is that all right with you?’
‘Yes,’ they agreed.
‘Good. Now I’ll go back to bed, until you’ve finished the pie-making.’
*
Belling’s was putting on a display of their winter collection. The news in the workroom was that the agency mannequin booked to model the younger styles had failed to turn up.
‘Mrs Belling might pick one of us!’ the excited girls hoped.
It wasn’t too much of a surprise that Rose Marie was the chosen one.
‘You will have someone with you to help you change,’ Mrs Belling told her. ‘Come through the showroom when the signal is given, walk naturally, display your outfit, and smile at the clients. You won’t be the first model on, so you will be able to observe how it is done. Now, come with me, Rose Marie. You will be shown how to arrange your hair and apply make-up correctly. There will be a press photographer present during the show.’
Prior to this, there was a dress rehearsal and the girls from the workroom were invited to view this in the salon downstairs. When Rose Marie made her appearance, there was a concerted gasp. She wore an elegant top coat in pale grey wool with an astrakhan collar and matching cuffs to the wide sleeves. Her hair was set in unfamiliar deep waves but almost obscured by a wide-brimmed felt hat. She’d resisted any drastic plucking of her eyebrows, but her lips were a startling dark red. She looked like a sophisticated woman about town.
Regarding herself in the long mirror before the curtains parted, Rose Marie felt awed.
She was to model four outfits. Her favourite was a two-piece in green crushed velvet with a shoulder cape and silver buttons. There were accessories to change around, too; bags, gloves and shoes, but the jewellery was the same, a single strand of good, imitation pearls.
At two o’clock the show began, with a little light music played on the gramophone. There wasn’t a large audience, but all the gilt chairs arranged in a semicircle were taken. The photographer set up his equipment to one side, and a lady reporter flipped to a new page in her spiral-bound notebook and fiddled with her propelling pencil.
Mrs Belling provided the commentary. There was polite clapping; an anxious girl from the accounts department hovered over the turntable.
It was time for Rose Marie to make an entrance, to smile, to turn around, to display the outfit from all angles. She could hear muted sounds of approval. She saw a familiar face, then another. Sadie was in the front row, with her mother. Then came the applause, and she wasn’t nervous any more, but elated.
‘You’ll be the star of the show in this!’ her attendant whispered in the changing room, when she helped her wit
h her final costume, the green velvet. She was right. The camera flashed repeatedly and as Rose Marie blinked, the clapping increased in fervour.
Later, back in the changing room, where the models jostled for space, Rose Marie put on her own clothes. She was about to slip away to return to work, for there was still an hour to go before home-time, when Mrs Belling called her out.
‘Rose Marie – friends to see you!’
She emerged, to find Sadie and her mother waiting with Mrs Belling.
‘You’re a natural!’ Sadie enthused. ‘I’ve ordered the green velvet outfit! Well done! I’m having a short break at home before I move on to a new venue next week, so I decided to give Mother a day out, and, yes, to buy her a new outfit, too!’
‘We’re meeting Russ for dinner – is there any chance you can join us?’ Mrs Short asked.
‘I – I’m not sure. I’d have to let them know at home, that I’d be late . . . !’
‘Use the telephone in my office,’ Mrs Belling offered. ‘I’m sure you are much too excited to do any more work today, so you’re free to go right away, Rose Marie. After all, you have been responsible for the sale of the most expensive outfit of the show!’
Rose Marie thought she wasn’t really dressed for eating out, but her new hair-do gave her confidence. She hadn’t expected to see Russ until the weekend, so this was a chance not to be missed! Even though they would not be alone together.
When she spoke to Florence, with a request to pass the message on to Lilli, Florence said cheerfully, ‘Don’t worry; Lilli and Stella are taking the children to the early evening performance at the cinema. It’s the new Charlie Chaplin picture, The Gold Rush. Being on our own, Manny and I’ll have a chance to make a few wedding plans, eh?’
‘Oh,’ Rose Marie said. Florence had remarked, ‘That’s nice!’ when she explained about her unexpected role that afternoon and how Sadie and her mother were involved. She felt rather cheated of her moment of glory. Florence obviously had other things on her mind! Josefina and Yvette were bubbling over with excitement at the prospect of the film.
‘You’ll have to keep very quiet and not fidget,’ Lilli cautioned them. ‘Children are supposed to attend the Saturday matinées, and sit at the front. The manager’s given us complimentary tickets for the middle. Think how lucky you are.’
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