The Lady of Pelham Street

by Deborah Carr

  ‘Well, I thought she’d lose it. You know, like hit me, or him, but she stuck ’er nose in the air and marched off to work. Bert ran after ’er, but she told him to bugger off.’

  ‘Miss Flack! That’s enough of that language. Apologise to Mrs Boot immediately.’ Miss Barton looked as if she didn’t know whether to pass out or slap Aggie.

  Aggie’s cheeks flushed. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Boot. I mean, Iris told him to, er, go away.’

  Florence nodded. ‘Yes, I understood as much. So, it wasn’t until later on that your altercation with Miss Smith occurred?’

  ‘No, er, yes. That is, I thought she was just sulking, so I tried to explain to Iris about what I’d done, when she flew for me.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Florence was torn. She understood the logic behind Aggie’s plan, although didn’t agree with it, and she also could see why Iris had felt so betrayed by her friend. ‘Wait outside, please, while Miss Barton and I have a discussion, and we’ll speak to you and Miss Smith shortly with our decision.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Boot.’ Aggie walked slowly over to the door. Florence thought Aggie looked as if she was deep in thought as she reached out and took hold of the doorknob. Instead of walking out immediately, she turned. ‘I really am sorry, Mrs Boot, and to you, Miss Barton, and to Iris, if I’m honest. I never meant for this to ’appen. I was only trying to fix something that I know wasn’t my business to sort. If you must blame someone, it should be me. Iris has kids and I don’t want them to suffer because of what I done.’

  Florence relaxed slightly, relieved to hear Aggie’s apology. It would make sorting this delicate matter out much simpler now that one of the women had taken responsibility for the reasons behind their fight. She hoped Iris could hear what Aggie had said from where she was sitting in the hallway.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Flack. I appreciate your sentiments.’ She waited for Aggie to leave and close the door behind her.

  Florence looked over at Miss Barton. She knew she wanted to find a reasonable solution to the situation and believed that the manager did, too. ‘What are your thoughts on this, may I ask?’ She motioned for the woman to take a seat opposite her at the desk. When Miss Barton hesitated, Florence said, ‘Please, sit.’

  Miss Barton did as she was asked and stared thoughtfully at her lap. ‘We’re not supposed to tolerate fighting in the factory,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how we can resolve this without dismissing the women.’

  Florence could see she needed to point out a few things to the woman, sensing she did not wish to say the wrong thing to Florence. ‘Are they good workers?’

  ‘They are.’

  ‘You say that they were good friends up until today, so I presume this is the first time they’ve ever fought with each other.’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘Then I think we need to ask Aggie to apologise to Iris, face to face. If she accepts the apology and they both promise never to become embroiled in something like this again, then we can give them another chance. Do you agree?’

  Miss Barton nodded several times, looking much happier. ‘I think that’s very fair of you, Mrs Boot.’

  ‘Good. Please call them back in here.’

  Moments later the two sullen women were standing in front of the desk once more. Florence explained what she and Miss Barton had discussed and without hesitation Aggie apologised to Iris.

  ‘I’m sorry, too,’ Iris replied quietly, looking sideways at her workmate. ‘You did try to tell me to say ta-ra to him, but I didn’t want to. Don’t do nothin’ like that again, will yer?’

  Aggie shook her head. Florence glanced at Miss Barton and exchanged a smile with her.

  ‘Good,’ Florence said clasping her hands together. ‘Do you both think you can remain working in the same team?’

  The women nodded immediately.

  ‘Fine. Then Miss Barton and I have agreed that this sort of behaviour must never happen again, because if it does you will be dismissed instantly and without a character reference.’

  ‘It won’t, Mrs Boot,’ Aggie assured her.

  ‘No, never, Mrs Boot,’ Iris added.

  ‘Good. I’m glad to hear it. Now, if Miss Barton is happy for you to return to the factory floor …?’

  Miss Barton nodded. ‘I am.’

  ‘You may go.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Boot,’ they said in unison.

  ‘You won’t tell me mam about this, will yer, Miss Barton?’ Iris asked, her face taut with fear.

  ‘No,’ Miss Barton said. ‘Not this time.’

  Aggie nodded and went and opened the office door. Iris gave a little curtsey and followed her out of the room.

  Florence waited for the women to leave and close the door behind them before asking, ‘You know her mother?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘And I wouldn’t presume to contact her about anything that happened here at the factory, but if the thought of me maybe doing so at any point makes Iris Smith take a moment to think before she reacts, then I’m happy for her to believe I would. Do you mind?’

  Florence shook her head and stood. ‘No, I don’t think there’s any harm in Iris having a deterrent that helps her stay in her job.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed the lateness of the hour. Jesse would be unimpressed with her tardiness, especially after all she had promised him.

  ‘I really must hurry along,’ she said. ‘I’m happy we’ve been able to resolve the situation to everyone’s satisfaction.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Boot. So am I.’

  As Florence sat in the carriage taking her home, she thought of the two women and how pleasant they had been in the office. It was hard to imagine them fighting and the thought shocked her. She thought of herself as an ex-shop assistant, but how similar to their lives had hers ever truly been? She hadn’t worked in a factory, of course, but she had worked for a living. She might empathise with these women, but she realised she could never really know what it must be like to live the lives they had to struggle through. It made her even happier to know that despite what had happened, both women had been given a second chance to keep their jobs at the factory. No one would be going hungry on her account this evening. The thought soothed her.

  Florence thought back to the chaotic mess she had made of Nellie Blythe’s situation nine years before. She couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride when she thought of everything she had learnt in those intervening years. She had had to make a concerted effort to listen to Jesse’s advice many times. Jesse, despite her best protestations at the time, had turned out to know better how to deal with Nellie’s particular situation. Florence smiled to herself. She really had learnt a lot since then.

  Chapter 20

  July 1902

  Florence folded her arms as she stood at the front door. She couldn’t believe Jesse was about to go out on horseback to do his rounds. She had hoped that his breakdown the previous year would make him consider his actions more carefully, but yet again he was ignoring any warnings by her or the doctor to adapt his lifestyle to fit his physical situation.

  She watched angrily as he stepped up onto the mounting block and, taking his horse’s reins from Meadows, placed his foot into the stirrup and with some difficulty swung his leg over the rear of his horse and settled into the saddle.

  She had tried her best to dissuade him from accompanying one of his managers who had taken over Jesse’s rounds checking on several of the nearest stores, while he had been recovering from his breakdown. The man was waiting patiently on his own chestnut gelding for Jesse to be ready to leave and if he had any concerns about Jesse’s welfare, he hid them well.

  Florence wished Jesse would accept that now was probably time to consider giving up riding altogether. He had celebrated his fifty-second birthday the previous month and since his breakdown had lost much of the strength in his legs. She knew he had no intention of doing as she asked but she couldn’t help worrying every time he rode his horse what might happen if he was to take a fall.

  ‘What
if the horse shies away from something, and you lose your seat?’ she had argued over breakfast that morning. ‘The fall could kill you, Jesse. Have you thought of that?’

  She went outside to try her best yet again to make him see sense before he left. ‘Jesse,’ she said quietly, standing next to the muscular left shoulder of his huge grey mare. ‘Are you certain you won’t change your mind? It would be much quicker and I imagine more comfortable for you both to do your rounds by carriage.’

  Jesse frowned, not bothering to hide his annoyance with her. ‘We’ve already had this conversation, Florence,’ he said quietly through gritted teeth. ‘As I said then, I’ve not fallen from a horse in years. I have no intention of doing so today. This is the way I’ve always done things,’ he said, tightening the reins. ‘I’m well again now and don’t see any reason not to carry on as I usually do. Now, please move out of the way, I don’t wish you to be trampled on.’

  Florence glared at him in frustration, but did as he asked. ‘You might be much better than you have been, but neither of us can truly say that you are well enough to carry on as you did before this illness, Jesse. Why not conduct the inspections by carriage? It’s a more sensible option, don’t you think?

  ‘I do not,’ he snapped, then, smiling at her, he put his gloved hand to his mouth and blew her a kiss. ‘I’d better get on. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘You are an infuriating man! Do you know that?’ she asked, her irritation with him melting away. His stubbornness was part of his personality, after all.

  Florence was glad that she had been able to see Jesse off before starting her own day at Pelham Street. The shop was busier than ever and she needed to plan what stock would be needed for the coming Christmas. She arrived at the store and almost bumped into Lily on her way to the lift.

  ‘Walk with me?’ she asked quietly.

  Lily fell into step next to Florence. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked, also quietly. ‘You seem a little down this morning.’

  ‘I’m finding it rather quieter at home without John around.’ She sighed. ‘The girls are their usual noisy, fun selves, thankfully, but I do miss him.’

  ‘You’re bound to.’

  Florence missed her son terribly since she and Jesse had travelled with him to Cambridge several weeks before to settle him in to The Leys School where he was now boarding. Florence had been trying hard not to show her emotions too much and lower the rest of the family’s spirits.

  ‘Have you spoken to Jesse about it?’ Lily asked as they stepped into the lift alone.

  ‘Yes. He tried to appease me by saying that John will have an exeat one of these weekends,’ she said. ‘I hope he does, then he can come home and spend some time with us and tell us properly how he’s settling in.

  ‘Jesse even admitted to me that although he feels that sending John away was the right thing to do, a part of him is struggling now that he’s gone.’

  ‘He told you that?’ Lily asked, her eyebrows disappearing into her fringe.

  Florence pulled a face. ‘I know. I was as surprised as you at his admission.’ The lift slowly rose to the top floor and Florence continued, ‘I keep telling myself that I didn’t enjoy the convent I was sent to in Brittany at first. Everyone spoke French and I missed my parents, siblings, and Jersey very much.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’

  ‘For a time, I resented my father for insisting on sending me away to school.’ She frowned at Lily. ‘I’m hoping John doesn’t feel badly towards me or Jesse for sending him off. I couldn’t understand why I had to go to France when there were perfectly good schools in Jersey. I soon became used to it though and learned to speak fluent French, but, more than that, I discovered how other families lived. It was a valuable experience. I keep telling myself that John’s experience will be valuable for him. Despite my initial dislike of the convent I was sent to, I loved it there in the end, as I hope John will learn to love his school.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Lily said as the lift stopped and she waited for Florence to step out. ‘You shouldn’t worry about a decision you both took a long time to make. John is a friendly young man and I’m sure he’ll be fine,’ Lily insisted.

  They reached Florence’s office. ‘Come in for a while, will you?’ said Florence.

  Lily walked in and sat down. ‘What’s worrying you then, Florence?’

  ‘I’m probably being over-sensitive, but I can’t help sensing from John’s letters that he’s not as settled as I would have hoped him to be by now.’

  ‘Can you visit him there?’

  Florence shook her head. ‘I was thinking about writing to the headmaster and asking if John can come home to spend a weekend with us, sooner rather than later.’

  Lily’s face broke into a grin. ‘That sounds like a splendid idea. You should do it.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘Have you mentioned this to Jesse yet?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  Florence smiled as she recalled their conversation the evening before as they sat and read by the fire. ‘I’m relieved for both our sakes that he thought it was a good idea. He also said that it will be good to spend time with all of the children together again.’

  ‘I’m so pleased, Florence.’

  ‘I’m going to write to the school this morning. I have to admit that I’m looking forward to seeing him very much.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ Lily stood. ‘I’d better return to the shop floor.’ She grinned. ‘I don’t want anyone thinking I have special treatment.’ She smiled at Florence. ‘I’m really pleased that Jesse is happy for you to ask for John to come home again soon. I think being able to speak to him should put you at your ease.

  Florence hoped so.

  After Lily left, Florence sat in her silent office and gazed at the area where the children’s cots had been when they were babies. She had valued that time with them so much, despite others looking down on her for taking her children to work. As far as she was concerned, no one had the right to dictate how she brought up her children. No one apart from Jesse, of course, and even he had to fight to get his way, Florence thought, amused.

  Her heart contracted painfully. It was hard to imagine that John was now twelve, Dorothy eleven and Margery nine years old. Where had the time gone? The next thing she’d know, each of them would be married and bringing up children of their own.

  No, thought Florence, shaking the thought from her head. She was not going to think such things. She was determined to enjoy that time when it came to it, but for now, she was going to spend as much time as she could with her children, while they were still young enough to want her company. And, she reminded herself, when John was allowed home from boarding school for a weekend or the holidays.

  She unscrewed the top of her fountain pen, took a piece of her personal embossed paper, and began to write a letter to the headmaster.

  Florence welcomed being kept busy all day. Her father had written to ask if they would consider selling the lease of the small Boots shop Florence and Jesse had set up in Jersey next door to her father’s stationery shop back in 1896. Florence sighed, as she read how her father thought the shop would be perfect for him to extend his business into and pressed her to encourage Jesse to consider selling the lease to him.

  Florence sympathised with her father, but had no intention of doing as he asked because, unbeknownst to her father, her mother had quietly told Florence that he was finding work rather difficult on some days and, rather than building his business in his sixties, he should be thinking about retiring sooner rather than later.

  She wrote back to him gently repeating that she and Jesse had bought that shop to obtain a foothold for the Boots company on the island. It was true. She also didn’t think the timing was right to sell just yet, which she thought was kinder than to say she didn’t think he could cope with a larger business. She hoped her father would forget about his plans to expand his business, for a while at least. Her mother was tired of helpin
g run the stationery shop and would be furious with Florence if she ever did sell to her father. Not that she, or Jesse, had any intention of doing so. Instead, they hoped that when her father did finally retire they would make him a generous offer to buy Rowe’s Stationers and extend into that shop, rather than the other way around.

  Florence knew it was what her mother hoped would happen in the future. It would be a way to help her family and also tie something from her past into her future.

  ***

  John was given permission to return home the following weekend, despite it being so close to the end of the school year. The mood at St Heliers had risen considerably. Everyone, both family and servants, was looking forward to his return, as they always did. Florence wished John could be at home for longer than a couple of days, but it was better than nothing. Jesse had already left for the train station to meet him and bring him home in a hansom.

  Florence had spoken to Mrs Rudge the previous evening to check that all John’s favourite foods had been stocked, or prepared, and gone up to his bedroom to stand in the middle of it, comforted to see his bed made and fresh towels on the towel rail under the window. Life at St Heliers felt complete when John came back.

  It was soothing to know that soon John’s bedroom would be inhabited again by him. Florence was even looking forward to seeing his things left about the house, something that usually irked her. She smiled, thinking how differently mothers saw their children when they weren’t with them all the time.

  It had been several weeks since she had seen her son, but a lot of her time had been spent focusing on her Booklovers’ Library, which had taken off rapidly since its inception. Florence visited the library each day, witnessing the neat organisation of the department, where each book had a green shield imprinted on the plain red, blue, or green cover of the book, and it made her smile.

  She sometimes asked for a couple of books to take home for herself and, once a selection had been brought to her, Florence would sit at one of the small tables and look through the books, checking that they were as clean as she meant them to be. She liked to sit quietly and read, taking in the conversation about her and hearing what customers thought of the lending library. Whenever she visited, the place was always pristine, with small vases of fresh flowers on the tables. She also mentioned to the manageress when she heard of any particularly interesting novels that had been published, desperate not to miss good new books that had come onto the market. She wanted her Lending Library to be up to date at all times. If they weren’t then customers might lose interest and Florence wasn’t about to let that happen.