by Fiona Ford
‘And look how she repaid you!’ Dot exclaimed.
‘Joy never took it quite that far. But you’re right, I worked my fingers to the bone at that horrible tearoom on the Walworth Road for that girl and look how it turned out.’
‘So what are you bringing it up now for?’ Dot asked, getting to the point.
‘When I was working all hours of the day in that café, I promised it would be different when I had children of me own,’ Alice said firmly. ‘I wanted him or her to have the very best I could afford. Not just in clothes, shoes and food, but love as well. This might sound daft to you, Dot, but I want that for Arthur – I want him to have a better childhood than I did and he won’t have it if his own father don’t come home soon.’
As Alice finished speaking, Dot was up on her feet and pulling Alice into her arms. ‘I don’t think you’re daft, ‘course I don’t,’ she said soothingly as she rocked Alice gently. ‘I think what you’ve just said makes a lot of sense, but, darlin’, the thing about life is that it’s not perfect, and if you’re waiting for the day it will be before you start thinking you’re giving Arthur a decent childhood then you’ll be waiting a bloody long time.’
Alice snorted with laughter at the bluntness of Dot’s statement as she untangled herself from her landlady’s arms. ‘I don’t want everything to be perfect; I just want it to be right.’
‘Things are right,’ Dot said firmly, her grey eyes brimming with earnestness.
‘But it’s not enough.’ Alice sniffed miserably. ‘I mean I think of you and the girls as family, ’course I do, but he deserves the best and what’s he got? A grandfather who thought a life of crime would pay, an auntie who’s supplementing her waitressing wages at Claridge’s by thieving her way around the West End, and a dad who’s missing God knows where.’
‘Look, Alice, in my experience there are certain things you can control in life and certain things you can’t. Look how your Arthur arrived in this world, on the shop floor of Liberty’s if you please.’
At the memory Alice shook her head in wonder. If anyone had said to her that her baby would arrive in full view of a floor full of customers she’d have screamed in horror, but when the time comes, the time comes; you don’t get to pick and choose.
‘What I’m trying to say is there are times in life when you have no control, you just have to make the best of it and stop worrying,’ Dot finished.
‘And you’re saying this is one of those times?’
‘I am,’ Dot confirmed. ‘You’re doing a fine job. Why don’t you come down the shop a bit early with Arthur and I’ll collect him from you there before you start your afternoon shift. Beatrice would love to meet your lad, I’m sure. Everyone loves a baby.’
‘Do you think so?’ Alice asked, brightening at the suggestion.
‘If she doesn’t we all will. It’s worth a try. Pop in half an hour before lunchtime when it’s quiet and she’ll be all over him,’ Dot said.
As Alice listened to her landlady thud up the stairs to get ready for work, she finished her own cup of tea and stood up full of fresh resolve. She still wasn’t quite convinced that she was doing enough for Arthur, but Dot had just given her a very good idea of how to try and get off to a better start with her new manager.
Chapter Five
Clutching the handle of Arthur’s pram, Alice felt relaxed as she walked down Argyll Street towards Liberty’s later that day. The sun was shining and even though she had needed a scarf to keep out the April chill, Alice could smell spring in the air.
There were definitely more people in the capital since Christmas and they were all largely American soldiers, known as GIs. They weren’t hard to spot, what with their well-cut uniforms and the way they moved slowly along the street with their hands in their pockets, a far cry from any British soldier – or even civilian, Alice thought with a wry smile. She had no idea how long they would be in the country, but she found their presence reassuring. It made her feel as if there were more of them in the war together, and that could mean that one day her beloved Luke might be returned to her.
The thought gave Alice a sense of hope she hadn’t felt since Arthur’s birth, and she found herself quickening her step towards her second home. Despite Arthur’s sudden entrance there she hadn’t brought him back to the store since. Consequently, today felt like something of a celebration and she was looking forward to showing off her darling boy.
Peering into the pram she was delighted to see her son was wide awake and smiling up at her. These were the moments she felt happiest, when it was just her and Arthur locked in their own private little world, the two of them against everyone else.
As if reading her mind Arthur gurgled and stretched out his arm, trying to reach for his mother. Alice smiled and stopped to plant a kiss on her son’s forehead, earning herself a tut and a rebuke from the person behind as they collided with her. Swinging around to apologise, Alice’s heart sank as she came face-to-face with Mrs Claremont. So much for the chance of a perfect new start.
‘Alice.’ Mrs Claremont grimaced as she rubbed her leg. ‘Don’t you know better than to just stop in the middle of the street?’
‘Sorry,’ Alice said, aghast, ‘I didn’t think.’
‘Clearly,’ Mrs Claremont grumbled, straightening up and casting a glance in Arthur’s direction. ‘Is this your son?’
‘Yes,’ Alice said proudly. ‘We were just on our way to Liberty’s.’
‘You’re not due in until later today,’ Mrs Claremont said, narrowing her eyes.
‘I know. But Dot suggested I bring Arthur in a little earlier to show him off to everyone.’
Mrs Claremont looked at Alice in undisguised horror. ‘Not on the shop floor?’
‘Yes – why not?’ Alice asked, bewildered.
‘Because it is a place of business,’ Mrs Claremont hissed, her cheeks pinking with anger. ‘It is not appropriate to bring a child into a working environment.’
Alice was astonished. ‘He’s a baby,’ she protested. ‘I don’t understand why you don’t want me to bring a baby into the shop?’
Mrs Claremont opened her mouth to say something and then seemed to think better of it. She glanced down at her watch before looking at Alice again. ‘Mrs Milwood, it strikes me we have perhaps got off on the wrong foot. Do you have time for a cup of tea?’
This was not what Alice had been anticipating. ‘All right,’ she agreed.
Just ten minutes later and the two women and Arthur, now fast asleep, were settled in a café around the corner in Carnaby Street. As Alice poured the tea out into the two cups and added a dash of milk, Mrs Claremont began to speak. ‘Mrs Milwood, I appreciate that my way is rather different to that of Mrs Canning and that might be difficult for you.’
Alice glanced at her new manager over her teacup, and saw that behind the bluster there was a hint of nervousness around her eyes. ‘Yes, but that’s not necessarily a problem,’ she said carefully.
‘I know that I can come off as being a bit abrasive,’ Mrs Claremont continued as though Alice hadn’t spoken, ‘but to me hard work is one of the most important things we can do in our lives.’
‘I agree,’ Alice said firmly. ‘That’s why I wanted to bring Arthur into the store to meet you, Mrs Claremont. To show you just why I work so hard, and to show you why Liberty’s means so much to me.’
Mrs Claremont waved Alice’s words away. ‘I don’t need to see your child to know that you value hard work, Mrs Milwood. But let me ask you this: have you ever seen any male members of staff bring their offspring into the store?’
A look of horror passed across Alice’s face as she set her cup down. ‘Of course not. But babies are women’s work.’
‘Exactly,’ Mrs Claremont said emphatically. ‘And now, thanks to this war, we women are being asked to take on men’s roles until they come home. So many out there think we’re not up to the task and we have to show them otherwise. Now, as fabric manager at Liberty’s I want to show Mrs Canning, Mr Button and t
he entire Liberty board and family just how well we can do here without the menfolk. We must work harder than hard, Mrs Milwood, and every penny we bring in counts towards our success. That’s what the family will look for during these times of war – how much money we make. I want our department to be the very best at Liberty, and for that we must rely on ourselves, Mrs Milwood, just as we do when it comes to raising our children.’
‘But what’s that got to do with me bringing Arthur in?’
‘Because it shows weakness, Mrs Milwood, and as a lone parent the one thing you can’t afford to be is weak.’
‘I’m not sure that’s true,’ Alice replied doubtfully.
Mrs Claremont jabbed at the table with her forefinger. ‘Trust me when I say that it is. Like you, I had to raise my two children alone after their father was killed in the last war, and like you, I had no family or friends to help me. I know you’ll do whatever it takes to feed and clothe your child – provide for him as both mother and father. That’s why I run a tight ship. Because I have an unfaltering belief in hard work and discipline, particularly in times of war like this.’
‘I understand,’ Alice said, taking another sip of her scalding hot tea. ‘It must have been hard for you when your husband died. Were your children very old? Do they remember him?’
Mrs Claremont smiled wistfully. ‘They were four and six and they adored him as I did. We were lost for a time – I did things I never thought I’d do to provide for my family. But my children were my world,’ she said fiercely.
Alice nodded at the sentiment as she topped up their cups with more tea. Judging from Mrs Claremont’s tone, Alice didn’t think she should ask more.
‘Sadly, I hardly see them now of course. Briony is in the FANY and Tom is serving in the army, so it’s just me in a little flat in Kilburn all alone,’ Mrs Claremont finished.
‘You must miss them.’
‘I do,’ Mrs Claremont replied wistfully. ‘But I’m used to it now, I suppose. They moved down to Devon to be with my sister about ten years after their father died.’
Alice paused for a moment to look properly at the woman sitting opposite her. The aggressive, hard mask Mrs Claremont always seemed to wear had slipped just a little and Alice saw a lone tear roll down the older woman’s cheek. ‘Still, I imagine holidays must have been fun in Devon. And wonderful for the children to have all that fresh air,’ Alice said brightly, trying to take the sting out of what she could tell was still a very upsetting situation for her new superior.
Mrs Claremont smiled gratefully. ‘Yes, it was, and much better for them really to be in the countryside.’
‘I often wonder whether Arthur would be better off in the countryside,’ Alice mused. ‘Even though I grew up here, London’s hardly the best place to raise a family. But I could never leave Liberty’s. For me this job is a way of life and Liberty’s is the family home.’
‘What are you talking about? I mean I love Liberty’s, of course, Mrs Milwood, but there are other stores and other jobs.’
Alice leaned back in her chair and grinned at the chance to reveal to her new boss just how special Liberty’s was. ‘The staff here, well, we’re like family, especially the girls in fabrics. We’ve all grown so close, and we’ve been through so much together. I would be lost without them, especially now Arthur’s here. They’re always there ready to help me out whenever I need.’
As Arthur let out a little cry in his pram, Alice bent down to pick him up. ‘I’m delighted we had this chat, Mrs Claremont. I’m sure we’ll be a great team.’
But Mrs Claremont said nothing; instead she got to her feet, left a handful of coins on the table for her tea and swept out of the café. As Alice watched her superior disappear she had the strangest feeling that she had said something to upset her new boss, but for the life of her couldn’t think what.
Chapter Six
Thanks to the new dresses Dot had lovingly taken in for her, Mrs Claremont felt Alice was suitably dressed for the shop floor. As she served all her favourite customers she felt a happiness pass through her that she hadn’t felt for some time.
By the time Rose rang down for her, to say that it was time for her afternoon meeting, Alice felt relaxed and confident. She made her way upstairs through the maze of cramped corridors that led to Mr Button’s office, where the store manager, Mrs Claremont and Flo welcomed her inside the wood-panelled office.
‘Take a seat,’ Mr Button said, gesturing to the empty chair besides Mrs Claremont.
‘Mrs Claremont and I have been talking about utility fabric and the clothing that will come into stores from the summer, Mrs Milwood,’ Flo began with an air of authority Alice hadn’t seen before.
Nodding, Alice remembered Mrs Claremont’s speech in the café earlier that day and gave Flo and Mr Button what she hoped was a professional smile of understanding. Utility clothing was a subject that had been discussed in the papers for some time. The government wanted to cut back even further on waste in a bid to help the war effort and so had suggested that as well as food and clothing rationing, any new clothes that were produced from now on would have to conform to certain restrictions such as skirts only being a certain length and jacket lapels a maximum width.
‘It means that we have to know the weight per yard, the degree of shrinkage and so on,’ Mr Button said. ‘The Board of Trade is being very strict.’
‘Naturally customers and retailers are worried that this means drab clothing but at Liberty’s we want to show everyone that won’t be the case at all,’ Flo added.
‘Yes of course,’ Alice replied.
‘With utility clothing fast on the approach we need to give our very best customers the choice and quality they deserve so we want to ensure all our utility fabric is available in as many prints as possible to keep variety,’ Mrs Claremont put in.
‘And make sure each fabric is special,’ Alice offered, seeing what Mrs Claremont was getting at.
‘That’s it exactly,’ Mr Button said, steepling his fingers as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. ‘The problem, as I was explaining to Mrs Claremont, is that some of our agents aren’t keen to make a special feature of our prints. Although they’re behind the utility scheme, some of our retailers can’t grasp why we’re creating our famous prints especially for utility clothing patterns. Many say it’s a lot of effort for nothing.’
Flo leafed through the paperwork before her. ‘So many that we have spoken to recently think that now the Americans are in the war effort, rationing and so on won’t last much longer and that these utility fabrics and garments won’t even make it on to the shop floors. Mr Button and I want to get the stores that stock our goods—’
‘Our agents,’ Alice interrupted.
‘That’s right,’ Flo nodded. ‘We want to get the stores that stock our goods to really understand, like and back this scheme.’
Alice frowned as she regarded her superiors. ‘But according to the trade press, the government wants to roll out utility clothing by June.’
‘That’s right.’ Flo nodded again. ‘It’s well known that the Board of Trade is working with a team of designers who are coming up with their own interpretation of functional fashion with designs for blouses, top coats and dresses.’
‘Gone are the days of shoppers visiting us twice a year after the Paris shows,’ Mr Button said wistfully. ‘This is the future and we must embrace it. People shop differently now.’
‘Mr Button is right.’ Flo pushed a copy of the Picture Post across the desk towards Alice. ‘As you can see, Deborah Kerr is wearing utility clothes complete with new skirt and lapel widths. If it’s good enough for Hollywood royalty, it’s good enough for Liberty’s.’
Alice peered at the picture and felt a swell of admiration for the star. Anyone with reservations about utility clothing would surely take one look at this picture and realise that fashion could be both beautiful and practical. Dressed in a tweed coat and headscarf, the actress looked a million dollars.
‘Obviously designers are waiting for the final restrictions on collar widths, pleats and so on, but this should give you a good idea of what we can expect utility clothing to look like,’ Mr Button said.
‘And how our customers can recreate these looks using utility patterns and our very special Liberty fabrics,’ Flo added. ‘There is of course no restriction on design or colour and we want everyone to know that at Liberty’s you can find your own personal style.’
Alice could see the wisdom in the way they were approaching this sudden change in fashion, and how they could help customers get behind the idea. ‘How can fabrics help?’
Flo glanced down at her notebook. ‘There are a couple of things we would like to do. Firstly Mr Button and I think it’s best to hold an event here within the store that will raise awareness of the utility scheme and just how much fun you can still have with clothes, whether old or new.’
Alice nodded; she would put her thinking cap on immediately and come up with something.
‘However,’ Mr Button said, interrupting her thoughts, ‘what we really need you to do is go down to Bath and visit one of our agents, Jolly’s, there. We know you have built up some marvellous relationships with our agents across the country over the years, Alice. Consequently, we think you’re the one to wax lyrical about why they should be putting our prints at the forefront of their displays.’
‘But surely that’s a job for Mrs Claremont as head of department?’ Alice frowned, turning to her new department manger but finding Mrs Claremont’s expression blank as she gazed resolutely at the floor.
‘We would rather like to send you,’ Mr Button said, his eyes twinkling. ‘You would only need to stay for one night, and of course we’ll put you up. We need someone who knows the stock and knows our agents. You have a wonderful relationship with Mrs Downing who runs the Jolly’s drapery department, I understand?’