The Lady of Pelham Street

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The Lady of Pelham Street Page 14

by Deborah Carr


  The air around her stilled. Had she heard right? Florence stared at him silently, shocked to hear her husband suggest she send her boy away. She could tell by the steely glint in his eyes that he was determined to follow this through. Panic coursed through her and her breathing quickened.

  ‘What? You can’t be serious,’ she said, aware that he was. By the way he was clenching his jaw, she could tell that he was ready to quarrel with her over this idea of his.

  Jesse raised his hand to stop her saying anything further. ‘I’ve found the perfect place.’

  ‘No! I won’t have it, Jesse. I simply won’t.’

  As if she hadn’t spoken, Jesse added, ‘The school is in Cambridge.’

  ‘Cambridge?’ Her mouth dropped open in horror. ‘Cambridge is miles away. Jesse, he’s only twelve. He can’t possibly be sent away. He’s not ready for it.’

  Jesse’s face relaxed. ‘Ah, so you do agree that he should go at some point. Then why not go now?’

  Florence covered her face with her hands. She wanted to scream. She had just played into Jesse’s hands. She lowered her hands and glared at him. She might have started this conversation on the back foot but Florence had no intention of giving in to Jesse’s suggestion simply because he believed that he knew better for their son.

  Jesse reached out to take Florence’s hand, but she snatched it back, placing both her hands on her lap.

  ‘Dearest, let me explain,’ he said quietly. ‘I was working long hours with my mother when I was younger than John is now. Our son needs the best education we can find for him, and I believe that the school I’ve found will be perfect for him.’

  Florence forced herself to calm down. Her mouth was dry and she took a sip from her teacup. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with Jesse if she argued with him; she needed to be far cleverer than that. She took a deep breath. ‘Tell me about this school then.’

  Jesse’s expression softened. ‘It’s called The Leys School. It’s primarily for boys from Methodist families, so John will be with likeminded boys.’

  ‘We’ve never visited the place, nor do we know anyone who’s attended the school,’ she said, hoping to find ways to change his mind. ‘How could we possibly know whether it will suit John?’ She lowered her voice so that no one outside the room could overhear what she was about to say. ‘We both know that John isn’t the most academically minded child. I would hate for him to be forced into a situation where he’ll be unhappy.’

  ‘I see your point, of course I do,’ Jesse said, giving Florence a little confidence that maybe he was willing to listen to her. ‘However, I can tell you that this is the most marvellous school because I’ve been to the place.’ Florence gasped in shock that he could do such a thing behind her back, but it seemed that Jesse was too focused on his clever planning to notice. Florence listened as he continued with enthusiasm. ‘I’ve met the headmaster and a couple of the pupils and I know that if John gives the place a chance, he’ll be very happy there.’

  Florence clenched her fists. Her whole body tensed as she struggled to contain her fury. ‘You visited the school? When? You never told me.’ How could he be so underhand? Her heart pounded as she tried to contain her rising temper.

  Jesse frowned. ‘It was last month, when I went out inspecting some of the southern stores.’ His eyes lowered. He slowly pushed the silver butter dish back from his place setting.

  ‘I know I should have told you, but,’ he said, looking back at her again, ‘I expected you to react like this.’

  ‘Good, then you know me a little better than I was beginning to think you might,’ she snapped, disliking Jesse for the first time in her life.

  ‘Florence, I thought it made sense for me to see if it was the right place for John to attend before speaking to you about it. I didn’t want to upset you if it wasn’t necessary.’

  ‘Then you don’t know me nearly as well as you think, Jesse.’ She hated that he had done this thing behind her back. ‘How many other things have you done that I don’t know about?’ She knew she was being nasty, but Jesse had hurt her and at that moment she wanted to hurt him back.

  Nothing meant more to her than her children and their welfare. Jesse had never made any big decisions about the children without first bringing the suggestion to her. He had always been satisfied to leave the children’s upbringing to her and for him to remove that responsibility from her so suddenly and about something this important devastated her.

  ‘I don’t see why you’ve done this, and to do it in such a clandestine way is not like you at all. At least I thought it wasn’t.’ She realised she was on the point of tears, but swallowed her upset and focused on making him listen to her point of view.

  ‘I didn’t intend for you to be so upset by this,’ Jesse said, his voice soft and, Florence thought, almost apologetic. ‘If I didn’t like the place then I would have said nothing and saved all this upset from happening.’

  ‘But you do like the place,’ she sneered.

  Jesse nodded. ‘I do. Florence, it’s a brilliant school and the buildings and surrounding area are exceptional. I truly believe it’ll be the making of John.’

  She closed her eyes, unable to speak for a moment. ‘Jesse, I always insisted on taking my children to work with me when they were smaller because I was determined to continue working, but I also wanted to be certain that I never became a distant mother,’ she explained, her voice controlled to try and keep her passion out of it. ‘I’ve always kept my children close. I don’t see the point of having children if you farm them out to other people. To do so doesn’t make any sense – not to me, at least.’

  Jesse rubbed his eyes and groaned. Florence could see he was as frustrated at their impasse as she was. ‘You were sent to board at a convent in Brittany,’ he argued. ‘You told me you were happy there, Florence.’

  She had been … eventually. ‘Not at first I wasn’t. I would have much rather attended a local school on the island and returned home to my parents’ flat each night to eat with them and spend time with my family. I missed my mother and father when I was away from them.’

  Jesse pushed his seat back from the table. Florence could see he was trying to keep a tight rein on his temper. Jesse was used to her standing up to him, but she always chose her battles and usually managed to entice him to change his mind in some clever way.

  Florence took a deep breath. If she was going to stand her ground on this matter, she would need to be able to speak, and right now the tears she was battling to hold back were restricting her ability to do so. She swallowed the lump in her throat. This time, Florence was too hurt to hold back from this face-to-face argument. John was her son and she was not going to have her feelings swept aside as if they didn’t matter. She realised Jesse was speaking.

  ‘And did it do you any harm to be sent away to school?’

  It hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point as far as she was concerned. ‘That was my parents’ choice. Now I’m a parent and I will make the choices for my children that I see fit.’

  Jesse stood up and threw his napkin down onto the table. He had clearly had enough of this argument. His face was puce with irritation and Florence knew it was because he hadn’t got his own way. She also suspected that he realised he had overstepped the mark and was feeling a little guilty. She didn’t care.

  ‘Yes, Florence, but what you seem to be forgetting is that I am also John’s parent. As his father, I believe it will do him good to be sent away to boarding school, so he will be sent.’ Florence opened her mouth to object angrily but before she managed to, Jesse added, ‘He needs toughening up, rather than spending so much time with his younger sisters.’

  ‘So, as far as you’re concerned the decision to send John to boarding school is a fait accompli?’ She dared him to agree.

  He stared at her for a few seconds. ‘I don’t have time to continue with this row.’ Jesse pulled his watch from his waistcoat pocket. ‘We need to leave in five minutes. I will not be late arriving
at the store. I presume you are still accompanying me to work?’

  As much as she would have liked to tell him that he could go in by himself, she had several meetings in her diary that she needed to attend. ‘I’ll be ready, but, Jesse, as far as I’m concerned nothing has been decided and this matter isn’t finished with yet.’

  ‘It is, as far as I’m concerned,’ Jesse snapped, marching out of the dining room.

  ***

  Later that morning, Florence stood next to Jesse as they surveyed their Boots Booklovers’ Lending Library with its cosy feel and polished mahogany counters. She could barely look at him, and had managed to stay away from him since their arrival at the shop – until now. Florence had tried to keep her mind focused on her work and not dwell on their disagreement, grateful for the two meetings she had already taken part in with suppliers. She was still fuming from their quarrel earlier that day, but had no intention of letting any of the staff or customers know that they were hardly speaking to each other.

  ‘I’m not certain how we’ve progressed from supplying cut-price medicine to lending books to people,’ Jesse grumbled.

  Florence wasn’t surprised he was still angry with her. He liked his home life to be calm and hated it when they were at odds about anything. This was his doing, though, she reasoned, and she had no intention of deferring to him when it came to her son’s education.

  Jesse straightened a vase on the small table nearest to them. She could see he was acting awkwardly, but wasn’t sure why. ‘This has been a dream of yours for a while now,’ Jesse said, his voice gentle. ‘I trust you when you insist that having this department in our store will bring in more customers.’

  Ah, so that was it, Florence realised. Jesse was trying to appease her by focusing on the lending library. She scowled at him. If he thought anything he had to say would soothe her hurt, then he was sorely mistaken.

  Then it occurred to her that although he was trying to please her by saying how he believed her idea would work, he was also speaking loudly and letting those nearby know that this wasn’t a department that he had initially believed in.

  Another put-down. That’s two in one day, she though angrily. She didn’t want anyone to hear Jesse’s doubts about this new feature in the store. They couldn’t expect customers to tell their friends to come and borrow books if the owner had little confidence in the library.

  ‘Keep your voice down, Jesse,’ she hissed.

  He seemed confused for a moment, then it must have dawned on him why she didn’t want him speaking so loudly. ‘I just meant that it’s taking me a little longer to become used to this idea than it seems to have taken other people.’ He took his handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped his forehead once again.

  Florence watched him push the damp, crumpled material back into his pocket. No sooner had he wiped his forehead than the sheen reappeared. When he had told her he was fine over breakfast, she had put his flushed skin down to his annoyance with her, but this was something else. A niggling concern seeped into her mind. He really didn’t look very well. Had she been so angry with him that she had failed to notice he was going down with some illness? she wondered guiltily.

  Florence resisted the compulsion to rest her hand against his brow, reasoning that it would embarrass him and bring it to everyone’s attention that he was unwell. She didn’t need to feel his forehead to know that he was ill.

  ‘Jesse, are you all right?’ she whispered, putting her anger about his earlier actions aside.

  ‘Stop fussing. I’m fine.’

  She knew by his denial that he had no intention of discussing the matter further. Maybe he was simply suffering from a head cold. She hoped so. Jesse hated being ill and mostly brushed aside any concerns she ever had. Florence understood how difficult it must have been for him to become used to the subtle changes in his health, but wished he’d be more open with her when he wasn’t feeling very well.

  She caught him glaring at her. ‘Maybe they have a need for these books that you don’t have,’ she explained, returning to the safer subject of their lending libraries. ‘You and I are lucky enough to have access to any books we choose to read. Making this lending library available for everyone willing to come to the store only encourages people who might not be able to afford to buy new books. We want to encourage reading and literacy as a whole, surely,’ she said, becoming more impassioned. ‘I want to make people aware that reading is available for everyone, not just the privileged few.’

  Jesse thought for a moment. ‘I understand that, but it is an odd department to have at the back of a store.’

  They had argued several times over this issue and Jesse had only given in to her insistence after she had promised that if this plan of hers didn’t work at the Pelham Street store, then she would not challenge him further with any of the other stores.

  Florence disagreed. ‘I rather think it’s the perfect place for it to be. Readers coming to select a book might see other items as they pass counters on their way through to here. It’s a good way for them to discover things that they hadn’t even realised they wanted or needed. You mark my words, it’s going to be a huge success.’

  Florence hoped she was right. It had taken a lot of persuasion to finally get Jesse to agree to progress from the revolving bookcase she had insisted on installing at their Goose Gate store to this splendid lending library. Florence recalled how books had always sold well at W H Rowe’s Stationers when she worked for her father, so there was no reason why people wouldn’t take this new project to their hearts. She had every intention of spreading the word to as many people as possible about this new service Boots was offering their customers.

  Aware she needed to make a further point to Jesse, she left his side to go and speak to an assistant who had just finished serving a customer. ‘How is everything going?’

  ‘Very well, Mrs Boot,’ the young woman answered, picking up three books from the counter that needed to be returned to the shelves. ‘We had quite a rush on first thing, but it’s a little quieter now. Probably because people have gone back to work after their lunch break.’

  Florence thanked her and went back to Jesse. He didn’t look at her, or speak, just turned and walked away. Confused, Florence followed him. He seemed to falter by one of the displays nearer the front of the store. She watched him anxiously. He was behaving very strangely and it troubled her. Jesse seemed to be staring silently at some ornaments. They weren’t the usual kind of thing he focused on but he seemed thoughtful, so she waited in the background to see what he would do next.

  Jesse turned his head to her and opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, his face paled and he reached out to clutch at the edge of the counter. Florence gasped as Jesse’s eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed heavily to the floor.

  ‘Jesse?’ Florence raced to his side and fell to her knees, terrified that he might have died. She felt for a pulse in his neck, her hands trembling. Sighing with relief, she closed her eyes when the tips of her fingers found one.

  Why hadn’t she persisted with him earlier when she’d noticed he wasn’t himself? Instead of taking care of her husband she had fought with him about John’s schooling. She would never forgive herself if their last morning together had been spent at odds with each other. Florence bit her lip to keep focused. This wasn’t the time for panic or tears. Jesse needed her help. She unfastened his jacket, waistcoat, and the top button of his starched collar to help him breathe more easily. Then, withdrawing her handkerchief from her skirt pocket, she dabbed it lightly on his forehead.

  ‘It’s all right, Jesse,’ she soothed. ‘You’re going to be fine. I’m here and I’m not going to leave you.’ She felt his hand twitch next to her knee and had to clear her throat so she wouldn’t give in to her tears.

  Florence heard footsteps running nearby. ‘Quick, call for an ambulance,’ she commanded the nearest shop assistant. The girl ran off and others stood waiting for Florence to give them orders. ‘Bring me a blanket for
Mr Boot and some cold water.’ Florence struggled to remain in control of her emotions. ‘Send for Doctor Mason. Albert on the door knows his address. Hurry. Tell him that Mr Boot has collapsed and is unconscious. As soon as the ambulance arrives, we’ll take him to the Nottingham General Hospital, the new Jubilee Wing,’ she added as the new extension that had only just opened came to her mind.

  Lily ran over to join her, crouching down on the other side of Jesse. ‘Florence, oh heavens. Tell me, how can I help?’

  Florence realised that customers were standing around and watching. The last thing Jesse would want now was an audience. ‘Remove these people as quietly and as quickly as you can, please, Lily. See that this area is cordoned off so we have some privacy until the ambulance arrives and Jesse’s been taken to the hospital.’

  ‘Right away.’ Lily immediately turned and began moving customers and shop assistants away from the area. ‘Please move back,’ she heard Lily demand, her voice slightly shaky but brooking no argument. ‘There’s nothing for anyone to see here.’

  Florence was grateful for her friend’s thoughtfulness and turned her attention back to Jesse. Where was that ambulance? she wondered, aware that it had only just been called for.

  ‘You’re doing well, Jesse,’ she assured him, unsure if he could hear her, but knowing that if he could, he might be calmed by the sound of her voice. ‘The ambulance will be here shortly and you’ll soon be more comfortable in bed.’

  She took a deep breath to fight against the panic threatening to overwhelm her and rested the palm of her right hand against Jesse’s clammy cheek. His skin was grey. Florence was terrified that if medical help didn’t come soon she might lose him. She couldn’t let that happen, especially not now. Not when they had been so deeply embroiled in the worst family disagreement they’d ever had. Why had he chosen that morning to tell her about his plans for John’s schooling? Regret squeezed at her heart. For all these years most of their conversations with each other had been happy, love-filled words. Why had they quarrelled today of all days?

 

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