The Lady of Pelham Street

by Deborah Carr

  Forgetting her hiding place, Florence gasped and ran to help him. Quickly remembering his distaste for drama, she immediately covered her horror and in a calm voice, asked. ‘My darling, is anything the matter?’ She dragged a chair from its place near the window, trying not to let him see how much her hands were shaking. ‘Here, take a moment and sit. You seem tired. I think you’ve been working a bit too hard these past few months.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he insisted, taking her hands in his and lowering them. ‘A slight case of indigestion, nothing more.’

  The strain in his voice belied his reassurance. She wanted to believe him, but was too aware of his delicate health to simply accept his affirmation that there was nothing to worry about.

  ‘Do you think we should maybe call for Doctor Braddock to come and check? It won’t do any harm.’

  ‘No,’ he said, as she suspected he would. ‘It was nothing. Truly.’ He stood and, taking her face lightly between his hands, leant forward. ‘I took my painkillers a little later than I was supposed to, that’s all. Now,’ he said, taking a deep breath, ‘how are you after today’s events at the factory?’

  She wasn’t surprised to hear him voicing his concerns. ‘I’m sorry. I know I’m much later home than I intended to be.’

  She saw him relax into his seat slightly. His pain must be easing a little, she thought, relieved.

  ‘Now, Jesse,’ she gave him a pointed stare as she knelt down in front of him. ‘Don’t think that you can change the subject that easily. If you’re not well, I don’t want you to hide it from me. Promise me you won’t, otherwise I’ll worry unnecessarily.’

  He leant forward and took her in his arms, kissing the tip of her nose. ‘My beautiful wife, you worry far too much about my health. However, I will do as you ask. It’s a particularly busy time with the business growing and I have probably been worried by how quickly it’s been happening. I am fine though.’

  ‘Well, everything at the factory seems to be running as smoothly as possible and now that the Pelham Street store is up and running, I think we can both take it a little easier than we have been doing. Just until we press on with our next big project. Don’t you agree?’

  She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed in the soapy smell from his face. He had just shaved. The familiar scent calmed her. She knew she couldn’t push herself harder and expect him to take things a little easier, so they needed to at least try to take a little more time for relaxation as a family.

  ‘You look beautiful, as ever. Why don’t you freshen up and change your dress and we can go downstairs for dinner and catch up properly with what has happened in our day.’

  Florence freshened up and asked Harriet to check that the fire was lit in the living room, then went upstairs to kiss her children goodnight.

  A floorboard squeaked under one of Florence’s feet as she approached the nursery door where John and Dorothy shared a room. Florence heard stifled giggling and Violet whispering that they should wait quietly for their mother.

  She took hold of the handle and slowly pushed open the door, poking her head around it before it was fully open. ‘Are my babies still awake?’

  ‘Me not baby,’ Dorothy said, lisping slightly.

  ‘You are,’ John argued. ‘I’m a big boy.’

  Dorothy scowled at him and then looked back at Florence, her eyes shining with unshed tears. ‘Not a baby? Margy baby.’

  Florence stepped inside the room. ‘I’m so sorry to keep you late, Violet. Has Nanny gone for something to eat?’

  Violet nodded. ‘I offered to sit with them, madam. They’re the sweetest children.’

  ‘Most of the time,’ Florence said smiling. ‘It’s time you went home to your family. Come in a little later in the morning if you like and apologise to your mother for me, will you?’

  ‘Please don’t worry, Mrs Boot. My mum is still happy from you sending me home with the cream and eggs earlier this week. She won’t mind me staying on a bit with my kids and these two are so well behaved.’

  Florence wasn’t so sure about her children being such beacons of good behaviour, but she was grateful to Violet. ‘Ask Harriet if she can spare you some of that lamb pie we had last night; maybe your husband would enjoy that and it might save you having to cook for one evening.’

  Florence didn’t like to presume but had learnt since the time Violet had come to work for her that any food she could spare for them was always welcomed with delight.

  ‘Thank you very much, Mrs Boot. I’ll go and ask Harriet now.’

  Florence smiled at the young woman who worked so hard for her and then turned and leaned over the raised edge of Dorothy’s cot bed under one of the windows. ‘You are not a baby, no,’ she assured her daughter as she leaned forward and kissed her forehead. ‘You are a little girl who needs her sleep. Now, turn on your side and close your eyes.’ Dorothy did as she said, placated by her mother’s words.

  Relieved to have pacified her daughter, Florence walked over to John’s bed and kissed his forehead. His little arms reached up around her neck and he gave her a tight hug.

  ‘Love you, Mother,’ he said, letting go of her and yawning.

  ‘And I love you, too. Did you have fun today with Violet?’

  He nodded sleepily.

  Florence covered his arms with his bed clothes and stroked his hair gently as he fell asleep. She pulled the curtains together more tightly to cover a gap at the top. The longer they slept, the longer she and Jesse were able to do the same, and Jesse needed his rest.

  She left the room and walked the few steps to the baby’s room where she found Margery sleeping peacefully, sucking her thumb. Florence sighed happily. She couldn’t believe her youngest child was already fourteen months old. A pang of sadness shot through Florence. Margery would be her last baby, of that she was certain. She knew she was pushing herself as it was, working each day, with the three children she already had.

  Being at home with her babies was when she was at her happiest. As much as she loved her work, it was times like these that she relished the most.

  Florence went downstairs to meet Jesse in the living room a short while later. He was bent down and placing an extra log on the fire. She found it incredible to think that nothing on his face gave away any pain he might feel. If she hadn’t been secretly watching Jesse earlier from the doorway, she would have been none the wiser about him suffering today. How many times did he hide his pain from her? she wondered. He was obviously adept at covering his ailments, and, she suspected, diverted her attention from him by focusing on how much he worried about her work commitments.

  She would have to be more vigilant, she decided. She was determined to ensure he didn’t overdo things and the only way to do that was to keep a keener eye on him. As much as both of them wished he had better health, Florence knew that Jesse wasn’t nearly as robust as he led everyone to believe. She was determined to have Jesse in her and the children’s lives for as long as she possibly could, which meant being stricter with him over the next few months.

  Chapter 11

  November 1893

  Florence stepped out of the way of a pink-faced delivery boy carrying a heavy box along Pelham Street. She found it hard to believe that yet another year was racing to its conclusion. Did the months seem to pass so quickly because she worked such long hours? She didn’t know, but she would have welcomed a few more hours in each of her days to fit everything comfortably in and not feel like she was struggling to keep up with everything most days.

  She gazed up at the logo bearing her married name and then at the large shop windows filled with displays that included all the trimmings any person could wish for at Christmas.

  This would be the eighth Christmas she and Jesse had spent together. As with the previous seven, Florence intended making the event a peaceful one. It was one of the few days a year when they could be alone with their children.

  They would attend chapel in the morning as they always did each year, and ret
urn home for their family lunch. She could just picture the scene, and then afterwards she and Jesse would spend time sitting happily together as they watched the children playing with their new toys. She loved those times when neither of them had any demands on their time as a family. It was a rare occurrence and one that Florence guarded fiercely. She and Jesse had made a habit over Christmas of sitting and reflecting on all the blessings that had been bestowed upon them in the previous twelve months.

  That wasn’t for a few weeks yet, though, and before she could spend any more time dreaming of their Christmas together, she must ensure that her customers had everything they needed at their disposal. Florence strode into the grand department store and exchanged pleasantries with several customers. Stopping occasionally to chat to members of staff on the ground floor, Florence spotted an immaculate assistant charming an elderly, well-dressed customer on the perfume counter, before moving on through stationery. The women she had employed to work at the store were turning out to be perfect ambassadors for Boots as the customers’ first connection to the business.

  She knew that Jesse’s ethos for his stores had always been ‘health for a shilling’ to help as many people struggling financially to be able to afford medicines. Now, though, Boots was opening its doors to more affluent people wanting to treat themselves, which increased their takings and, Florence was satisfied to note, enabled Jesse to finance further shops to bring cheaper medicines to even more areas.

  Florence passed the manicure sets and handbags in No. 2 Department. It was her favourite department, probably because it had been entirely her idea. She had been uncertain whether she had ordered enough of the latest perfumes from France, rouge dishes from Portugal, and the delicately scented soaps and body lotions she had discovered from various places in England. She was happy to note that she had calculated her orders well.

  Satisfied that everything was working smoothly, Florence slowly walked up the elegant staircase, her hand gliding up the polished bannister on her way to the upstairs gallery. She meant to check on some newly introduced fancy goods, when she spotted Jesse talking to a customer.

  ‘Mrs Boot,’ someone whispered next to her.

  Florence couldn’t miss the urgency in the shop assistant’s voice. ‘Yes, what is it?’

  They both smiled politely at a passing customer and when the woman was far enough away not to hear them speak, the girl replied. ‘One of the women has fainted in the dispensary downstairs.’

  ‘Thank you for letting me know,’ Florence said, motioning for the girl to go with her. She walked as fast as she could back down the stairs without actually running, not wanting to alert anyone to the drama unfolding.

  ‘Where is she now?’ she asked the woman keeping step next to her.

  ‘They’ve taken her into the back room for a sit down, but thought I should come and find you to see what you wanted us to do.’

  Florence nodded a greeting to a regular customer near the cosmetics counter but continued on her way down to the pharmacy department. The girl led the way down the wooden stairs into the department and was relieved to see two assistants calmly serving customers as if nothing was amiss. Florence smiled at them and bade the customers a good morning before going into the back room and closing the door behind her.

  She could see by the pale face of the woman sitting on a chair near a small desk in front of her that she was unwell.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked, recalling that the woman’s name was Gladys. ‘Is there something we can do for you?’

  Gladys looked up at her, eyes wide with embarrassment. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Boot. I’ve no idea what came over me.’ She went to stand, but Florence placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently back down.

  Florence thanked the assistant who had come to find her. ‘Return to your work now; I’ll see that Gladys is looked after.’

  The girl did as she was asked, leaving Florence and Gladys alone with the manageress, Ruby.

  ‘She’s insisting that she’s fine to return to her post,’ Ruby said doubtfully, her arms folded across her chest as she stared at Gladys.

  Florence had seen this before and suspected she knew what was behind Gladys’s fainting episode. ‘What did you have to eat for breakfast?’ she asked quietly, not wishing to sound in any way accusatory.

  Gladys picked at a slight dent in the oak desk. ‘I, well, that is …’ She sighed. ‘I didn’t have time for anything this morning, Mrs Boot.’

  ‘You didn’t have your daily cocoa?’ Florence asked, aware that it was all that a lot of the women consumed before starting a long day at work.

  Florence still recalled the first time she had learnt that many of their female employees went without breakfast to ensure that there was enough food for their husbands and children. Jesse once explained to her how many women on a low income not only gave the majority of their food to the rest of their family, but also believed that when they could afford to buy meat, it should be fed to their husband as the head of their household. She found the notion staggering. It wasn’t as if these women didn’t work a full day, too.

  Florence could not help feeling affronted on the women’s behalf when, after finishing a day’s work, they would be expected to return home to tend to their children and prepare a meal, while most of their husbands relaxed in front of the fire, or enjoyed a pint down at the local public house. Jesse thought she worked hard, which Florence knew she did, but she wasn’t expected to go without a decent meal to feed others and she was lucky enough to have servants to do all her housework and prepare their food.

  She had grown up without any luxuries, but her family had never gone without food and her father had always insisted on everyone eating a hearty breakfast before starting their working day.

  ‘I was running a bit late this morning,’ Gladys explained, her voice shaky. ‘One of my kids wasn’t well and I had to wait for my neighbour to come and sit with ’im. I’m so sorry, Mrs Boot. It won’t happen again.’

  Florence could hear panic rising in Gladys’s voice and, wishing to calm her, grabbed hold of a nearby chair and pulled it towards her.

  Florence sat facing Gladys. ‘Please don’t fret. These things happen,’ she said, patting the woman’s trembling hands. ‘Ruby, please send for a large mug of cocoa for Gladys and ask if there are a few biscuits that she might eat.’

  Ruby pursed her lips at the back of the woman’s head. ‘Don’t be expecting this special treatment every morning, Gladys,’ she snapped. ‘Mrs Boot has more important things to do with her time than sort out breakfast for you.’

  Gladys looked up at Florence, tears welling in her eyes. ‘I promise I’ll make sure I’m on time in future, Mrs Boot.’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ Florence soothed, hating to see Gladys so apologetic when what she needed was reassurance. It was one thing to arrange for cocoa to be provided for each of the women every morning, but there must be something else she could to do assist them further. She would have to give it more thought.

  ‘Ruby, I believe we all know that on occasion things happen that are out of our control. I think Gladys has had enough of a fright without us making matters worse for her. Now, please do as I ask and send for some refreshment.’

  Florence was angrier with Ruby than she let on but didn’t like to undermine Ruby’s authority over the women, or humiliate her by telling her off in front of Gladys.

  Florence waited for Ruby to go and carry out her orders before she turned to Gladys. ‘Now, I don’t want you to worry about what’s happened this morning. Being a mother and working is difficult, I know that much. If there’s anything I can help you with, at any time, please come to my office and speak to me. Will you promise me that you’ll do that?’

  Gladys stared at her thoughtfully.

  ‘Gladys?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Boot. I will.’

  ‘Good. Now, drink your cocoa and if you need a second cup, you just say so. I want you to feel up to returning to work before leaving you here.
’ Florence wondered if Gladys would ever come to her to ask for anything. She hoped that she would.

  Ruby returned and Florence took her to one side. ‘I don’t want you to say anything further to Gladys,’ she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to check that she wasn’t being overheard. ‘I think Gladys has had enough of a shock this morning having fainted.’ She paused and stared at Ruby, hoping she was taking on board the gravity of her words. ‘We provide the cocoa as a benefit to the women and we must be aware that some of their home lives are more difficult than others. I expect you, as someone in authority at Boots, to look out for the women in your care and to come to me with any concerns you may have. Can I leave you to do that for me, Ruby?’

  Ruby swallowed, her eyes wide. ‘Yes, Mrs Boot.’

  Florence wondered if this was the first time Ruby had truly thought about her responsibilities towards the women in more junior roles to hers. It seemed to her that Ruby had experienced some sort of awakening.

  Ten minutes later, satisfied that Ruby wasn’t going to give Gladys a hard time, Florence watched as Gladys sat eating a biscuit and sipping at her cocoa.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Florence said. ‘I’d better press on; it’s always such a busy time before Christmas.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Mrs Boot,’ Gladys said.

  Florence smiled at her, relieved to notice that the colour had returned to the woman’s cheeks and that she seemed much better than she had earlier.

  Chapter 12

  Christmas 1893

  Florence helped Jesse hang three Christmas stockings from the plaster mantelpiece for the children. She felt an almost childlike excitement for the next day when their children would come down and discover the gifts that Father Christmas had bestowed on them.

  Jesse put his arm around Florence’s waist and they stepped back to admire the scene in front of them. Their Christmas tree, which Jesse had arranged to be delivered to the house four days before, now had a prominent position in the corner of the room between the large living-room window and the fireplace. They had decorated the tree with oranges covered with cloves and thin red ribbon, as well as baubles and strings of glass beads.