by Deborah Carr
‘How wonderful to spend your day among such beautiful items.’ Lily stroked her gloved hand lightly across the crystal object. ‘One day I’d like a house decorated with beautiful things like these.’
‘There’s no reason why you can’t make that happen, Lily,’ Florence reassured her. ‘You’re clever and have always been dedicated to your work.’
As they walked to her office, Florence thought about their backgrounds and how different they were. She had never had cause to fear her father, or dread returning home, unlike Lily. Lily’s drunken father had spent much of her childhood either in a public house, brawling, or locked up in jail, leaving Lily, the eldest of several siblings, to find a way to help support her mother.
Florence liked Lily very much, but most of all she admired the girl’s strength of character. She had watched Lily rise up from her difficult start in life, having had barely any education, and couldn’t help feeling a touch of pride at her part in helping Lily to become the self-contained woman walking next to her. Look at Lily now, Florence mused. Seeing her young friend, so changed from the neglected girl she had once been, reminded Florence of the difference she had also made to Nellie’s life. She had the power to change women’s lives just by giving them a helping hand. The thought made her even more determined to do the same for others.
They entered Florence’s neat office. She sensed Lily taking time to study the warm, homely room where Florence spent so much of her working day.
‘The children aren’t here yet, unfortunately. They’re being brought in to see me for an hour later. It’s a shame that you’ve missed them; I would have loved you to have met them today.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Lily said staring at the cot at the back of the room. ‘I was hoping to see them.’
‘We’ll have to make sure that you do then. Please, take a seat,’ Florence said, waiting for Lily to do so before sitting herself. ‘Would you like some tea now?’
Lily shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’ She smoothed down her skirt. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to know why I’m here.’
Florence had assumed Lily was visiting the store to let her know she was in Nottingham and say hello. She frowned, concerned. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there? And, of course, you must tell me if there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here.’
‘I hear all about the grand Boots stores when your father speaks about expansions and how clever Mr Boot is with his knack of placing advertisements,’ Lily explained. ‘And, naturally, I learn more when you write and tell me about your trips to Europe buying stock, and how each of the children are doing.’ Lily’s gaze fell on Florence’s tidy leather-topped desk, before she looked around the room. ‘This is a lovely office.’ She pointed to the silver-framed photograph on Florence’s desk. ‘Is that John, Dorothy, and baby Margery?’
Florence turned the frame slightly towards her. ‘It is,’ she said unable to help smiling at their cherubic faces looking so angelic for once. She worried that Jesse favoured the girls, but kept her concerns to herself as she waited while Lily struggled to continue to answer why she was visiting the shop.
Lily took a deep breath. ‘I want to make something of myself, Florence. I’ve saved to come here in the hope that you might have a vacancy somewhere and be able to offer me a position in this store.’ Lily hesitated. ‘Do you think that’s at all possible?’
Florence didn’t ask why she hadn’t thought to write to her in the first instance, if this was what she wanted. Lily knew her address, after all, and it might have saved her a journey. Then again, Florence thought, smiling, she was delighted to see her friend.
As if Lily had heard her thoughts, she added. ‘I have to admit I was worried that if I wrote you might not see my letter.’
Her words perplexed Florence. ‘Why on earth would you think such a thing?’
Lily clasped her hands together and rested them on her lap. Florence could see her knees shaking slightly and it dawned on her how difficult this was for her younger friend. ‘Well, I thought that if your, um, assistant, opened your mail, maybe she’d think I had a cheek approaching you for work. She might believe I was taking advantage of our friendship and not pass it on to you. You must have many people wanting to work in a smart place like this?’
They did, but none of them were Lily, Florence thought, smiling. Wanting to put her at ease, she said, ‘I’m glad you made the journey to see me, Lily. Firstly, it’s a wonderful surprise to see you here so unexpectedly. As far as work, I’d be happy to look into vacancies and see what I can do for you.’
Lily visibly relaxed. ‘Oh, thank you, very much. That’s incredibly kind of you, Florence.’
‘How long are you staying in the area?’ Florence asked, picking up her fountain pen. ‘If you can give me an address, I’ll contact you in the next day or so and arrange for us to meet again. We can go through whatever’s available that I think might suit you.’
Lily beamed and stood up. ‘Thank you ever so much.’ She unclasped the top of her small leather bag and reached inside. Pulling out a slip of paper she handed it to Florence. ‘I’ve written down my address.’ She blushed slightly. ‘Just in case you asked for it.’
‘Are you certain you don’t want some tea and biscuits before you go?’ Florence didn’t like to think of Lily going back out into the cold without having a warm drink and something to eat.
‘No, thank you. I don’t wish to take up any more of your precious time. You’ve been very generous seeing me for this long as it is.’ Lily gave Florence a wide smile. ‘I was ever so nervous about coming here today.’
‘Why? You know me well enough!’
Lily seemed to consider her words before speaking. ‘I knew you before you were married, when you were Miss Rowe and before you were Mrs Boot. A lot has changed since then.’
‘We’ve kept in touch though. The only thing that’s changed between us, Lily,’ Florence said, walking around her desk to take Lily’s gloved hands in hers, ‘is that you and I are eight years older. And, I must say, those years have served you well.’
‘Thank you, Flo— er, Mrs Boot.’
‘Please, call me Florence when we’re in private. If I find you a position here, which I can assure you I will do, then you’ll need to address me like the other staff, as Mrs Boot. Now, though, we are simply Lily and Florence.’ She pulled Lily into a brief hug. Letting her go, Florence stood back. ‘It truly has been a joy to see you again.’
‘Thank you,’ Lily hesitated. ‘Florence.’
They laughed as Florence walked Lily to the office door. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to wait and see Mr Boot?’
‘Not today,’ she insisted, looking, Florence thought, rather terrified at the prospect of meeting Jesse again. ‘I’m sure he’s far too busy to be making small talk with me.’
Florence went to argue, then, aware of Lily’s unease, opened the door and held it back for her friend to exit.
‘I really appreciate this, Mrs Boot,’ Lily said as Miss Tweed walked up to the door looking surprised to see someone coming out whom she hadn’t shown into Florence’s office.
‘Bye, Miss Buttons,’ Florence said, happy to have spent time with her old friend. She determined to do what she could to help her in whatever way she needed.
Florence waved Miss Tweed into her office. ‘I’d like to know the vacancies we have in the store for senior shop assistants.’ Lily had been taught by her and her sister Amy, and if Lily’s work satisfied her own father enough for him to keep her on for all these years, then that was good enough for Florence. She trusted Lily implicitly and wasn’t going to miss out on employing someone as personable and hard-working as her. Lily would soon find a position in any of the various outlets competing with Boots if she didn’t find something for her at Pelham Street.
‘I’ll add it to my list of things for tomorrow morning,’ Miss Tweed said, making a note on the pad in her hand.
‘No, I’d like it done today, please. Put aside anything on today�
��s list and make this a priority.’
Miss Tweed raised her eyebrows almost imperceptibly. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Florence knew her well enough to see that for once Miss Tweed’s professional exterior had been breached. She gave a single nod and left to do as Florence had asked.
Florence studied the piece of paper Lily had given her with her temporary address written in her neat rounded hand. She didn’t know the boarding house where Lily had booked in to stay, but recognised the name of Pepper Street and didn’t think it was too far for Lily to walk.
She and Jesse now had thirty-three shops to run and having someone as dependable as Lily Buttons working for them would be a great asset. She was honest and hard-working, and Florence wanted to help her find a foothold in Nottingham.
Florence was certain Lily could be happy there, too. She might only have lived until now on a small island, but Florence knew that it was a fascinating experience to start somewhere new.
Florence stared at the photo of Jesse and her children on her desk. John, Dorothy, and Margery would never know the deprivation or cruelty that Lily had been accustomed to for most of her life, and she was grateful for that. Lily would make a perfect manageress for one of the departments and that was the role Florence hoped to offer her in a letter later that day.
She felt honoured to be in a position to help out her old friend and, she thought, it was going to be exciting to be able to share memories of Jersey with someone else who had grown up there.
PART TWO
Chapter 16
March 1901
Florence stared at the date on the newspaper. ‘I still can’t believe it’s the twentieth century.’
‘It has been for the past fifteen months, my sweet.’ Jesse took a sip of his tea and gazed at her over the rim of his cup, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.
Their lives were good and she felt certain they all had much to look forward to, but whatever Jesse said, it still felt strange to her. The old Queen Victoria had died two months before and Florence wasn’t sure if she was prepared for all the changes that seemed to be happening. They had over two hundred and fifty Boots stores now, and the year before, Jesse had bought a chain of sixty chemist branches from one of his competitors. She had expected him to slow down a bit now that he was in his fifties. She should have known better.
She was grateful that her children were settled, for the most part, although Florence had begun to notice how much more sternly Jesse was now acting towards John compared to the way he was with the girls. She thought back to an incident the evening before when Jesse had arrived home and found John and Florence reading quietly in the conservatory.
‘You should be out with your friends somewhere,’ he had said, ‘not sitting inside with your mother reading.’
Florence had noticed her son’s hurt expression. ‘He’s doing nothing wrong, Jesse. Reading is a perfectly acceptable pastime.’
‘When I was his age I was working, not lazing around doing nothing.’ He waved for John to stand. ‘Put that book away and go and find something to do outside. Invite one of your friends over to play tennis, get some fresh air, instead of sitting in here all day.’
Florence locked eyes with her son and smiled. ‘Go on, darling. Do as your father asks.’
‘Yes, Mother.’ She watched her son leave the room, his shoulders stooped. He was upset at being told off and rightly so, she thought.
As soon as she was certain John was out of earshot, Florence turned on Jesse. ‘That was uncalled for,’ she snapped. ‘He was doing nothing wrong.’
Jesse sat in the chair next to hers, a scowl on his face. What had brought this mood on? she wondered. The business was flourishing, as far as she was aware. And even if it wasn’t, Florence thought, Jesse had no reason to take out his bad mood on John.
‘Are you going to tell me why you were so mean to John just then?’
Jesse smoothed his moustache with his right thumb and forefinger before turning to her. ‘I worry that he’s not tough enough to take over from me one day.’
‘He’s twelve Jesse, not twenty. Anyway, you don’t mind when the girls sit and read with me.’
‘That’s different.’
Florence felt anger building up inside her. ‘And why is that, Jesse?’ she asked, daring him to answer without thinking.
Jesse looked at her. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘No, I don’t. You’re always easier on the girls, and it’s not fair on John. He idolises you and it hurts him deeply when you pick on him.’
‘I don’t. I can see you’re looking for an argument,’ Jesse grumbled, ‘and I’m not going to give you one. If anything, you’re the one who overprotects our son. Have you considered that?’
‘Nonsense. I treat him the same as the girls.’
Jesse harrumphed. ‘Then maybe you shouldn’t. He needs to be tough if he’s going to take over at Boots someday, not soft.’
Jesse’s attitude towards John frustrated her. It was the main bone of contention between them and it bothered her to see that rather than resolving the issue, they seemed to be moving further apart in their feelings towards their son.
‘John is a kind boy who likes to spend some of his time reading. You should be glad of that, especially as last week you were telling him off for not focusing on his studies enough.’
‘Reading novels is not the same as him paying attention to his schoolbooks, and well you know it.’
‘That’s as may be,’ Florence said, focusing on keeping her voice controlled before continuing. ‘But reading novels hasn’t done me any harm, or would you disagree with that?’
‘No, I wouldn’t.’ He frowned at her. ‘Do we have to row about John, again?’
‘Yes, if I think it’s necessary. As I’ve tried to explain to you before, John is only twelve. He’s a child, and only one year older than Dorothy. Yet you don’t pick on her. They both have plenty of time before having to decide what they want from their futures.’
Jesse opened his mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it. She suspected he had been about to argue that he was harsher with John because he was a boy. Florence stared at Jesse silently. She was glad that her husband knew better than to use that reason for any argument, especially with her.
‘Maybe,’ she continued, ‘John won’t want to work for Boots. Have you thought of that? Maybe one of the girls will be better at running the business.’ Florence knew she was testing Jesse’s patience now, but couldn’t help herself. If he believed she was capable of working to the level she had proven herself able to do, then why not one of her daughters?
Jesse shook his head and smiled at her. ‘I know what you’re getting at, and I won’t discuss it, Florence.’
She didn’t blame him. Jesse knew her well enough to know when she would stand back and let him bellow and rant, and when, at times, she was not in the mood to allow him that freedom. John’s happiness meant too much to her to keep quiet. She had said her piece now, though, and hoped Jesse had taken her words to heart.
‘Please think before snapping at John, Jesse. It distresses him, and it upsets me.’
Jesse considered her words silently. Then, reaching out, he took her right hand in his left one and kissed the back of it. ‘I don’t like to think that I upset him, or you. I’ll try to do as you ask in future.’
Florence was surprised to hear Jesse give in to her request so easily. She studied him. He had been thoughtful for the past few days. Despite him insisting that nothing was wrong when she had probed him about his mood the previous evening, Florence suspected that he did have something on his mind that he was keeping from her.
She rang for tea and picked up her book to continue reading while they waited for Violet to bring the tea tray and set everything out on the table. When Violet had left them alone, Florence closed her book.
‘Jesse,’ she said, softly, ‘I know there’s something worrying you.’ He didn’t react, so she tried o
nce more. ‘Please tell me what it is before I start imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios.’
‘It’s nothing, truly. Now, please stop fretting. You worry too much about me, and about John and the girls. We’re all perfectly fine. Why don’t you come for a walk with me out to the rose garden after we’ve finished our tea?’
Florence hated to think of herself as a fretful mother. She found it difficult enough dealing with her own mother when she took it upon herself to start trying to dictate how Florence should bring up her children, or deal with her working life.
‘Good idea,’ she said, giving him a smile and pouring them each a cup of tea. She decided to let the quarrel go. For now.
***
The following morning at breakfast, Florence gave the children permission to leave the table and waited patiently while Jesse finished the last mouthful of his buttered toast. He sat back in his chair, staring at her thoughtfully for a moment. Florence noticed that Jesse’s forehead was shining.
He saw her watching him and, taking his handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his forehead. ‘I’m fine, before you ask,’ he said, pushing the material back into his trouser pocket. ‘It’s a warm morning, nothing more.’
Florence didn’t agree. It was warmer than usual at this time of year and the spring morning sunshine poured into the dining room, but it wasn’t hot enough to cause Jesse to perspire like this.
‘Are you quite well?’ she asked, going to stand and check him for herself.
He waved for her to remain seated. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Don’t fret, Florence.’
‘Well, something is amiss and if it’s not your health, then what is it? Tell me,’ she insisted, trying but unable to read his expression. She knew Jesse extremely well and could usually gauge his thoughts, but this morning all she could fathom was that there was something bothering him that he knew she wouldn’t like. ‘Jesse.’
He sighed and after a brief pause said, ‘I think John should be sent to boarding school.’