by Deborah Carr
‘What do you need me to do?’ Jesse asked quietly.
‘Try to remain calm,’ Florence soothed, trying her best to keep her voice steady. The last thing she needed was for him to panic as much as Gerald seemed to be doing.
Florence heard footsteps running through the hall. The door opened and a frightened young girl stood in front of them. ‘You took your time,’ Gerald snapped.
‘Mabel,’ Helena said, her voice gentle. ‘Please put on your coat and run to Doctor Jacobs’s home and tell him that we have a guest who is about to have her baby. You know where it is, don’t you?’
‘Yes, madam. I’ll go there immediately.’ She looked relieved to be escaping from the house.
‘Gerald, you need to calm down. Go and ask Betty to boil some water and bring towels. I’ll need her to help me get the spare room ready, too. We need to settle poor Florence as soon as possible.’
‘Thank you,’ Florence said, wishing she had taken the time to consider that she might be in labour when she first felt the twinges earlier in the day. She winced as another contraction took hold.
Jesse paled. ‘Is there anything I can do, my love?’
‘I’m sure the doctor will be here shortly.’ Florence was aware that if the servant was going to fetch him on foot it couldn’t be too far away. She hoped he was at home and didn’t waste any time coming to her. ‘Why don’t you stay here with Gerald when he returns to the living room? He can keep you company.’
Jesse seemed unable to move for a moment. For a man who was always in control, the only occasions Florence recalled him being almost stupefied with fear were when she was giving birth to their children. ‘I’m fine, Jesse. I know what I’m doing, don’t forget.’
‘If you’re certain there’s nothing I can do to help?’
‘Your wife is in safe hands.’ Helena rested a hand on Florence’s right shoulder. ‘She’ll be well cared for, Jesse, and I’ll let you know how things are progressing.’
Helena took Florence’s empty cordial glass from her shaking hands and placed it on a table. ‘Now, my dear, let’s go and help you settle down to wait for Doctor Jacobs. He should be here shortly.’
Florence hoped Helena was right.
Florence accompanied her hostess into the hallway. Her foot was on the first step when another contraction took her breath away. She gripped hold of the bannister, panting as the pain took over. As soon as it passed, she and Helena slowly made their way upstairs.
‘Here you are, madam,’ Betty, a red-faced woman of about forty, said, placing fresh towels on the chest of drawers near the window. Helena left the room while Betty helped Florence to change into her nightdress.
Florence wished for a moment that Harriet was with her, then reasoned that she much preferred her to be looking after the children. She waited while Betty hurriedly made up the bed.
‘There you go, madam.’
Florence thanked the maid and got onto the bed.
Moments later Helena returned with a small tray holding a glass and carafe of water. ‘I thought you might need these.’ She helped Florence sit forward and plumped up the pillows behind her. ‘There, that’s a bit better. We want to make you as comfortable as we possibly can.’
Florence heard the front gate slam shut. She willed it to be the doctor. As friendly as Helena was, she couldn’t help feeling a little vulnerable being away from home. It wasn’t what she had planned for the birth and she missed having familiar people nearby.
Seconds later, there was the sound of footsteps clambering up the stairs before a rapid series of knocks on the bedroom door.
‘Come in, Mabel,’ Helena said, giving Florence an apologetic look.
The maid ran into the room, struggling to catch her breath.
‘Will you keep the noise down and try to calm yourself,’ Helena hissed between clenched teeth. ‘Mrs Boot does not need to be disturbed like this.’
‘Sorry, Mrs Bradshaw,’ Mabel said, looking, Florence thought, on the verge of tears.
‘Did you find the doctor, Mabel?’
‘Yes, madam.’ Mabel swallowed and took a deep breath. She glanced at Betty, as if surprised to see her still in the room.
Florence could see the older woman was trying not to lose her temper with the young maid. She didn’t want the poor girl to be given a hard time on her account. ‘Everything is perfectly fine,’ Florence said, hoping to defuse the situation between the two maids. ‘Now, can you tell us what Doctor Jacobs said?’
‘He said I’m to tell you that he’ll be along momentarily,’ Mabel said. ‘He just wanted to let his wife know where he was going.’
Before Florence could reply, they heard the sound of the front gate closing. There was a collective sigh of relief. Seconds later the doorbell rang.
‘That’ll be him now,’ Helena said. ‘Go and let him in, Mabel. Betty, I think you probably need to make a cup of tea for Mr Boot and Mr Bradshaw. They’ve both had rather a shock this evening. Make one for yourselves, too, you are both going to need to keep your strength up tonight …’
***
Three days later, Florence kissed Jesse and watched as he gave their new baby a peck on her tiny head.
‘She suits the name Margery, don’t you think?’ Jesse asked.
Florence could tell he was delaying the moment he would have to go.
‘Jesse, we’ve had this conversation several times over the past few days. Now, you really need to leave, if you’re to get home before the children are put to bed.’
‘I know, but I hate to leave you behind,’ he said miserably. ‘It doesn’t seem right, somehow.’
She smiled at him and reached up to rest her hand on his cheek. ‘We’ve been through this. The doctor has insisted I stay here for a while. It won’t be for long.’
He bent to kiss her. ‘I promise I’ll return to check on you as soon as possible.’
‘Don’t fret about me,’ Florence reassured him. ‘I need to go home and cuddle our other children. They’ll be missing us terribly and I can’t bear to think of that. Tell them I’ll be home again in a few days and I’ll be bringing their new baby sister with me.’ She smiled at him, hating to see him go, but glad that in a few hours he would be back with John and Dorothy. ‘You’ve also got work to do, don’t forget. It’ll keep you busy and the time will fly by. Just you wait and see.’
He didn’t look convinced.
Florence was relieved when Helena knocked on the bedroom door. ‘How’s the mother and baby?’ she asked popping her head around the door before joining them. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you both,’ she said. ‘But I was passing the room and overheard your concerns, Jesse. This can’t be easy for either of you, but Florence is right. Your other children need you and you’ll no doubt have a lot of work to be getting on with. Gerald and I are happy to look after Florence while she’s recuperating from the birth. We promise to make sure she and baby Margery have the best care possible.’
‘You see?’ Florence gave Helena a grateful smile. ‘Doctor Jacobs insisted I couldn’t travel for at least another ten days. Come back then and the three of us can return home together.’
Jesse nodded slowly. ‘I don’t seem to have much choice.’ He kissed her once more and rested his hand briefly on baby Margery’s tiny head, before doing as she asked and leaving the room.
‘I’ll show Jesse out,’ Helena whispered, as she left to accompany Jesse downstairs.
Florence hadn’t expected to cry. She was overwhelmed, hearing Jesse shout his goodbyes to Helena and Gerald before the sounds of horses’ hooves trotting away, pulling Jesse’s carriage on its way to Nottingham. She gave in to her tears, unable to stem their flow, and reached for a handkerchief. She blew her nose with her free hand and then bent her head to breathe in the scent of her beautiful baby’s hair. She wasn’t feeling nearly as happy to be left behind as she wanted Jesse to believe.
After a few moments of self-indulgent sobbing, Florence took a deep breath. She needed to buck up and make the
most of this time alone with her baby girl. She didn’t doubt that life would take over again as soon as she returned to Nottingham. Even if she stayed away from work for a few weeks, Florence knew it would take a little time to settle the baby in at home. She also intended making up for her extended absence to John and Dorothy once she was back at St Heliers. She determined to enjoy every last moment of whatever peace she could glean. The next few months were going to be busier than ever and she wanted to build up her strength while she could before returning to work and focusing her attention on the move into the new store in Pelham Street.
Chapter 7
October 1892
Pelham Street
The following six months passed by in a blur of baby feeds, bedtime stories, and trips back and forth to Pelham Street. Finally, baby Margery was in a routine that suited Florence and they had employed a nanny to look after John and Dorothy on the days that they preferred to remain at home and play in the nursery.
Florence’s figure was almost back to how it had been before her pregnancy and now, as she sat in her new bigger office, she was ready to work on the finishing touches before the big opening.
She loved this office. It gave her enough space to accommodate the three children in a corner of the room where they played when they were with her, while she worked at her desk.
There was a familiar knock on Florence’s office door and she could tell by its gentleness that it was her secretary. Florence sat back in the button-backed leather chair Jesse had bought her to mark the opening of their new Pelham Street store and screwed the top back onto her fountain pen. ‘Come in, Miss Tweed,’ she said keeping her voice low.
‘Thank you, Mrs Boot.’ Her secretary’s eyes scanned Florence’s desk briefly before she continued. ‘Mr Boot asks that you join him in No. 2 Department. There’s something he wishes to speak with you about. I’ll keep an eye on the children for you, if you wish.’
‘Yes, please. I shouldn’t be too long.’ She looked down at the two small cribs in the corner of the room, one holding Dorothy and the other baby Margery. Florence’s heart swelled with love for her daughters. ‘The girls have only recently fallen asleep, so you shouldn’t be disturbed.’ Florence loved having her precious children in her office, but also enjoyed a quiet moment alone with Jesse when he requested her company. ‘I’ll go to find my husband immediately.’
She turned the piece of paper she had been writing on face down onto her blotter. She was a little stuck over what to write anyway. Despite having dealt with many troubling issues amongst the staff, Florence always liked to try her hardest to find the best resolution for everyone involved. Now she was having to deal with an employee who had found herself in a difficult predicament, although Florence wasn’t supposed to know any details about why the girl was leaving. Having been pregnant three times now she recognised the signs only too well. She had promised to draft a reference for the girl, aware that she wasn’t moving on to other employment but to motherhood. Florence wanted to help her have the necessary reference should the girl ever be in a position to be able to return to work. Her thoughts shot to Nellie Blythe and the mess she had made of things when trying to help her. She had learnt a lot since then – at least she hoped she had.
Florence stood up slowly and strode out of her office to find her husband, but was unable to shake off thoughts of Nellie Blythe.
Her own life was so different to the lives of the women she employed, and regrettably had to occasionally dismiss. Yet, she reflected, her life could have been quite different had she not met Jesse. She doubted she would have had any children or married. As she walked across the plush store carpets, she recalled her joy at becoming his wife at the St Helier town church that sunny August day, her head filled with excitement for their anticipated life ahead. She hadn’t been disappointed. Jesse had made her happier than she had dared ever imagine.
She also suspected that he was as surprised as she was at how naturally they both took to having their small brood. Florence smiled to herself; thinking about her babies always gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. One of the store assistants caught her eye and assumed Florence’s smile was meant for her and reciprocated the greeting. Florence stopped briefly to speak to the girl and one other who was working nearby.
‘Everything as it should be?’ She glanced around the department where the handbags and gloves she had sourced were now displayed with precision.
‘Yes, Mrs Boot,’ the younger one answered, her cheeks reddening slightly. ‘We’ve almost finished unpacking the stock. This department will be ready in lots of time for the opening next week.’
‘Thank you. You’ve both done a sterling job.’ She took in their young, bright faces. They both seemed so proud of their work, which was exactly what she aimed for.
‘Thank you, Mrs Boot,’ they answered in unison, smiles on their faces.
‘I’d better dash – Mr Boot wants to speak with me and I mustn’t keep him waiting.’
She hurried away, wondering what Jesse wanted to show her that couldn’t wait until after the store closed.
Florence found him speaking to two of their shopfitters, a tape measure hanging around his neck, as he seemed to have most days now. Both men were listening intently to what he was saying. Jesse was waving his arms about animatedly as he spoke. Her mood dipped. Jesse was angry about something, that much was obvious to her. Knowing how he hated to be interrupted when he was sorting out an issue, she decided instead to check how the final touches were coming along in the next department.
Florence quietly greeted several members of staff as they busily unpacked silver-plated mirrors, combs, and brush sets from chests lined up along the half-filled counters. She was grateful to have Jesse’s confidence in her taste for items, so much so that she was now in charge of sourcing all the stock for anything not connected to the chemist side of the business. She smiled to discover there had already been a delivery of the crystal powder jars she had ordered from Paris a few weeks before. The ones already on display were sparkling brightly under the electric lighting she had suggested Jesse install in the store.
The new lighting was her favourite installation. It showed off their stock far better than the old gas lamps did in the other stores. Jesse’s confidence in her instincts and taste had boosted her own confidence. He often complimented her on her flair for interior design, proving his sincerity by incorporating most of her suggestions at this new store.
Florence recalled with amusement that although Jesse might believe in some of her ideas, he still took a lot of persuasion before agreeing that handbags and some smaller women’s items, such as prettily packaged manicure sets, would sell well. Thankfully, she thought as she studied a nearby display, on this occasion she had been proved right.
No, despite her mother’s reservations, she had been deliriously happy with her husband. She smiled to herself, picturing the photograph she had commissioned of her with John and Dorothy in her arms and Jesse looking down at them with utter adoration. It was her favourite picture and had pride of place on the marble mantelpiece in their drawing room at home. She made a mental note to arrange for a new photo to be taken showing all three of her children with her and Jesse.
She had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t realised Jesse had finished his discussion and was standing next to her, hands on his hips.
‘Is everything all right?’ Florence asked, unsure whether she was going to like the answer when she noticed he was glaring in the direction of the beautiful items she had just been watching the girls unpack.
Jesse turned his attention to her and with his right arm outstretched, asked, ‘What is that?’
Florence wasn’t certain exactly what Jesse was referring to. She looked in the direction of the display cabinets and counters but couldn’t see anything amiss. ‘What? It looks fine to me.’
‘The layout of this department is all wrong,’ he bellowed, his face turning puce with rage.
Florence wondered for a moment if he w
as going a little mad. ‘In what way do you think it’s wrong? We agreed the layout months ago.’
‘Yes, that’s what I thought, too. Why then are the toilet and fancy goods you’ve introduced being displayed at the front of the shop? You know full well that the pharmaceutical counter is always stationed near the door. It takes the primary position in the shops. We are a cash chemist before anything else, not a department store.’
The shop assistants immediately stopped unpacking and swapped stunned glances with each other.
Florence had hoped she was being subtle enough with the way she was slowly incorporating new stock into the stores. She had obviously misread Jesse’s answer when they discussed this latest rearrangement and tried to recall exactly what had been agreed. She noticed the two shopfitters slink backwards out of the line of fire and didn’t blame them. She would like to do the same herself.
‘You agreed with me when I said these should be at the front,’ she said, remembering as soon as she had spoken that Jesse had said the idea was worth thinking about.
Horrified that she had taken his comment as an invitation to make these monumental changes to their new store, Florence decided to try and turn the misunderstanding around to her advantage.
‘If you think back, you’ll recall that I said your idea to move the layout around was worth considering. However,’ Jesse said, his voice lowered, which Florence knew meant he was trying hard to control his temper and was therefore extremely angry with her, ‘I did not, at any time, agree to it. I want everything put back to how it should be. Now!’
The shopfitters ran forwards and the female assistants immediately began repacking the chests with the stock.
‘Stop, everyone,’ Florence shouted. She was not going to be dictated to or dismissed like a naughty schoolgirl. She was Jesse’s wife and he needed to take her opinion on board. ‘Please wait. Just for a moment.’
She turned her attention back to Jesse. ‘The pharmaceuticals are essential items,’ she said, willing him to listen to her. ‘Look at the counters.’ Florence indicated the polished mahogany with a sweep of her hand. ‘They are pleasing to the eye. I know, without any doubt, that they would be far more enticing for passers-by looking into the windows if they had pretty, shiny items displayed on them, rather than simply medicines.’ She became more determined to win the argument as she spoke. ‘People don’t come into the store to browse for pills. They come in specially to buy them.’ She saw Jesse’s expression change and hoped he was rethinking his decision. ‘They are essential items and people either need them or they don’t. As far as I can see they barely need any selling.’