The Lady of Pelham Street

by Deborah Carr

  ‘Thank you for coming to help me, both of you,’ she said, pulling a handkerchief from her handbag and blowing her nose. ‘Oh, and we’ve found Daisy.’

  Florence sighed with relief. ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘She forgot the time, that’s all. They had walked further than they had intended, apparently. She’s back now with the other girls and seems perfectly fine. So, no harm done.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ Jesse said, shaking his head as he took his pocket watch from his waistcoat and studied it. ‘I believe it’s time we made our way to the station.’ He grinned at Florence. ‘I know that I, for one, will be happy to sit down again for a while.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Florence said. She was relieved that everything had turned out well in the end, as she knew Jesse must be. Thankfully, all the women were accounted for, but she would make certain that strict instructions were given before future outings, to ensure that no other girls would go missing like Daisy had done. She shivered despite the heat of the late evening sunshine and couldn’t help thinking how very differently their day would be ending if something untoward had in fact happened to Daisy.

  ‘Are you quite well?’ Jesse asked, linking his arm through hers. ‘You’re not coming down with a chill, are you?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I was thinking about how things might have turned out if we hadn’t found Daisy.’

  He patted her arm lightly. ‘Don’t ruin your day by worrying about such things. Daisy is fine, as is Lily.’

  Florence hoped he was right.

  ‘Now, let’s get ourselves back to Skegness Station.’

  Chapter 23

  Two weeks later, Florence arrived home from a musical concert with Jesse. They liked to support local bands and so when they had received an invitation to attend a concert at a nearby parish hall, had decided to go. She didn’t like taking time away in the evenings when John was home because she liked to make the most of having him at St Heliers.

  She walked into the hall to hear their children’s laughter emanating from the living room. It sounded like John was entertaining his sisters with a story. Florence and Jesse glanced at each other, amused.

  ‘Good evening, Mr Boot, Mrs Boot,’ Meadows said. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t at the door to greet you.’

  ‘No matter, Meadows,’ Jesse said as he and Florence unbuttoned their coats and handed them and their hats to him to put away.

  ‘Have the children eaten, do you know?’ Florence asked.

  The footman shook his head. ‘I believe so, but I’m not certain,’ he said folding Jesse’s coat over his arm. ‘Would you like me to go and check with Mrs Rudge?’

  ‘Thank you, yes,’ Florence said. As Meadows walked down the hallway towards the green baize door separating the main house from the kitchen and servants’ quarters, Florence touched Jesse’s forearm lightly. ‘Shall we go and join the children?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ll need to go to my office to do a little paperwork before retiring later.’

  Florence wasn’t surprised. Jesse often worked from seven in the morning until late and continued to look at paperwork once he was home. Wasn’t she also guilty of doing the same thing, on occasion? she mused.

  As Jesse opened the living room door, Florence saw Dorothy. She was standing in front of her brother and sister. John had returned home from his trip away the previous week and it was obviously Dorothy’s turn at charades.

  Florence and Jesse stood there for a little while, watching the fun in front of them, until John noticed them and ran up to them. Jesse had been trying especially hard to get along with John this holiday and she appreciated his efforts.

  ‘Mother, Papa, you’re home. You have to come and join in,’ he insisted taking one of each of Florence’s and Jesse’s hands in his and stepping backwards, drawing them to the nearest sofa to sit down.

  ‘Dorothy’s not doing very well,’ John explained. The girls giggled and Dorothy pulled a face at her brother.

  ‘She’s rubbish, Mother,’ John said, teasing his sister. ‘She’s almost as bad as you are at charades.’

  ‘I play perfectly well, thank you.’ Florence frowned, amused at her daughter’s teasing. ‘You’re worse than me.’

  ‘Yes, John,’ Margery agreed, nudging Dorothy gently. ‘You’re not losing because of anything we’ve done. Anyway, Dorothy and I can usually understand Mother’s clues. You’re the one who can’t work them out.’

  ‘There, you see?’ Florence laughed, smiling at her son to soften any offence he might take from her words. ‘I’m not that bad a partner, after all.’

  Dorothy went to Jesse and gazed up at him. ‘Papa, you join Margery and me, and Mother can help John.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Jesse said. ‘I still have work to finish tonight.’

  ‘Not yet, you don’t,’ Florence said, irritated with him for even contemplating missing a fun evening with his children. She knew it would do him good to spend some time with them. For once his work could wait. ‘You know you love playing this game.’

  Jesse grinned and to Florence’s relief gave in without further argument. She sat watching as he gave the next clue. She wished Jesse would relax a little more with the children and wondered if his austere way was because his upbringing had been so much harder than her own. She knew he had enjoyed very little freedom as a child, having to leave school early and help his mother run her small shop after his father’s premature death.

  Shrieks of laughter snapped her out of her reverie. Florence had to pretend she’d been watching and joined in with the applause. It seemed that Jesse’s team had done well and now it was her turn.

  Meadows returned to the room shortly after. Florence stopped trying to re-enact the book Dracula by Bram Stoker and waited for him to speak. She had forgotten that she’d asked him to find out about the children’s supper. After all, she’d spent more than enough time with them to ask them herself whether they had eaten yet.

  ‘Madam, Mrs Rudge said she gave the children their supper about an hour ago. She wanted to know if you and Mr Boot would like any refreshments?’

  ‘Jesse?’ Florence asked.

  Jesse nodded. ‘I’d like some tea, I think.’

  Florence looked at the children. ‘Anyone else want anything to drink before going to bed? Cocoa?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ they all replied.

  ‘I’ll join my husband with a pot of tea. Thank you, Meadows.’

  He gave her a nod and turned to leave.

  The rest of the evening was fun. Florence enjoyed having her son back at home with them and taking part in their after-dinner parlour games. The house seemed much more vibrant when John was at home, Florence thought, watching her children playing. The girls loved having their brother back at home with them, and Florence didn’t mind that it was much noisier in the house, with his laughter ringing out through the hallways, his footsteps thundering around the house as he ran up the stairs, and the shrieks of laughter from one or both of his sisters when he played a prank on them. She relished every chaotic moment of it.

  She wished he didn’t have to return to school in a couple of weeks and dreaded having to wave him off, but he had assured her he was settling in as well as the other new boys. He hadn’t asked to leave yet, either, which gave her a little confidence that he didn’t mind his school.

  She sent the two girls to change for bed and walked with John to his bedroom. Florence leant against his desk and folded her arms, watching as he chose a pair of pyjamas to change into.

  ‘You would tell me if you were unhappy at boarding school, wouldn’t you John?’ She waited for him to answer and wondered how she would persuade Jesse to allow John to return home if he did admit that he hated being away.

  He turned away from his chest of drawers, pushing the open drawer closed with his knee and flung his pyjamas onto his bed.

  ‘I’d rather be here, but then no one chooses to go away to school, do they?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Florence said. ‘But
the masters are all right, are they?’

  John shrugged. ‘Most of them are very strict, but that’s to be expected.’ He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment, then walked over to her and gave her a tight hug. ‘You’ve no need to worry about me, Mother. I’m fine.’

  Florence’s emotions threatened to overwhelm her. He hadn’t hugged her like this for a couple of years, and it felt wonderful.

  He let go of her and stepped back. ‘My form master spoke to those of us who began at the school at the same time and told us that we are almost men and learning to be parted from our families is something that we need to do.’

  Florence shook her head. ‘You’re far from being a man, John. Nor should you be expected to act like one, not for many years yet.’

  He laughed. ‘I don’t mean literally, but I think he meant for us to know that if we did find it a bit tough to settle in at first, then we needed to see it through and that soon we’d feel much better about being away from home.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Yes. Sort of.’ He scanned the room. ‘I miss you, Father, and my sisters. I also miss my room.’ He pointed at his ancient teddy sitting on a chair. ‘Even that old thing that I don’t need any more. I also miss Mrs Rudge’s food. Everything about being at home really, but it’s fine there. At least I’m not like my friend Frank.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I can come home on exeat because we only live a couple of hours away. He can’t go back and visit his family in Canada for a weekend, or even the shorter holidays.’

  ‘No, I suppose he can’t,’ Florence replied, thinking how heartbreaking it must have been for his mother to send him all the way from Vancouver to England to study. That was something she never would have agreed to.

  ‘Mother, do you think I might be able to invite Frank to come and stay for the half-term holiday?’

  Florence loved the idea. ‘Yes, I think that’s a wonderful thing to do, John.’

  ‘Should I ask Father, or will you?’

  Florence smiled at her thoughtful son and ruffled his hair. ‘I’ll speak to your father about it, don’t you worry.’

  That night as she sat in front of her dressing-table mirror brushing her hair, Florence turned to Jesse.

  ‘Jesse, I was speaking to John earlier about his friend Frank.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘His schoolfriend who’s from Vancouver in Canada. The poor boy is so far from home that he’s obviously unable to go home to see his family for short periods.’

  Jesse closed the notebook he was writing in and stared at her. ‘Go on,’ he said, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

  Florence struggled not to smile back. She wanted Jesse to listen to what she had to say and take it seriously. ‘John asked if his friend could come and stay with us for the next half-term holiday. I thought it was very thoughtful of him to think of it. What do you say?’

  ‘I agree. I think we should ask him to stay. He can mess around here with John for a few days, play tennis, that sort of thing. Then we can all go down to Plaisaunce. I’m sure the boys would love to swim in the river like I used to do.’ He gazed dreamily at the bedspread covering his legs and Florence’s heart contracted at the sadness Jesse must feel at not being able to do all the things that he used to do as a younger, fitter man.

  ‘Wonderful,’ she cheered, hoping to distract his mood from becoming maudlin. ‘I’ll let John know first thing in the morning. He can write to Frank straightaway, so the boy has something to look forward to.’

  She could picture John and Frank in their dormitory planning their half-term break together; the thought made her very happy.

  ‘Now,’ she said, placing her silver-backed hairbrush down on the walnut dressing table and standing up. ‘It’s been a long day and I think it’s time we both got some much-needed sleep.’ She walked over to the bed and, taking Jesse’s notebook and pen, took them over to the nearby cupboard and placed them on the top, too far from the bed for him to be able to reach without getting up.

  Florence pulled back the bedspread on her side of the bed and got in. She leant over and gave Jesse a kiss, then rested her right palm on his cheek. ‘Good night, darling Jesse,’ she said before switching off the light and lying down.

  Jesse lay on his side, his back to her, and within moments she heard his gentle snoring. She was happy he had agreed so readily to John’s friend coming to stay. If John was finding it difficult despite his reassurances that he was coping perfectly well, Florence felt comforted to know that he now had a friend, and she looked forward to meeting the young man.

  ***

  The weeks passed far too quickly for Florence’s liking and it seemed like no time at all before the new term began at John’s boarding school. Florence, Margery, and Dorothy, along with the servants, stood on the front steps of St Heliers trying not to show how glum they all felt as they waved goodbye.

  As always, Jesse accompanied John back to school. Florence had offered to travel with them, but John had insisted that he found it easier with his father and didn’t want her to become upset when the time came to leave him at the school.

  Florence was relieved to stay behind. The last thing she wanted to do was make John’s return to his school any harder for him than she imagined it must be. She also liked to think of Jesse and his son spending the time alone together. She suspected Jesse might also be hoping to speak to John about what he expected from him during the rest of the school term.

  Florence felt the familiar pressure at the back of her throat and coughed. She had no intention of crying in front of everyone; she would save that for when she had a chance to go up to her bedroom on the pretext of collecting the latest novel she was reading.

  Florence hurried up to her room and had barely closed the door when her threatening tears began to slide down her face. She hated having to see her son leave after such a wonderful summer at home with them again. She supposed it was more difficult because John had been with them for so long, and she wished she could keep him at St Heliers with her permanently. He had come this far, though, and didn’t need his mother making a fuss. She knew John would hate that and find it embarrassing.

  At least the girls were still young enough to live at home, she thought, wiping her eyes on a handkerchief and then blowing her nose. What on earth was she going to be like when they all married and moved away for good? Florence felt the rise of fresh tears and pushed the thought away. Thankfully they were still only twelve and ten years old, so she had a long time to wait before she needed to worry about that happening. Florence cleared her throat and checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure there was no sign that she had been crying. She picked up her copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles and went back downstairs to spend some time reading with her daughters.

  It was a warm late-September Sunday afternoon and Florence was looking forward to returning to work the following day. Being in the office always kept her mind busy and stopped her from worrying about her children. She entered her bright, sun-filled conservatory and her mood lifted as she was greeted by the sight of her two beautiful daughters sitting on cushions reading. They were absorbed by their books and seeing them cheered her up slightly. She might not have her boy at home with her, but her girls were still here.

  Florence fanned her face with her hand. The room was stifling so she walked over to the double doors leading to the garden and opened them.

  ‘Wouldn’t you both rather sit outside in the shade? It’s a beautiful day and it’ll soon be October and too cold to want to read outside.’

  Dorothy placed a card bookmark in between the pages she had been reading before closing the book. ‘I don’t know why we didn’t think of that ourselves,’ she said, standing up.

  Florence was pleased. She believed everyone should have as much fresh air as possible to keep their constitution healthy. She assumed it might be her upbringing so near to the sea in Jersey that made her love being outside.

  ‘We’re lucky eno
ugh to live in a beautiful place with little noise and should make the most of this garden during the warmer months.’

  The girls stood and followed her outside to take a seat at the oak table on the patio to the side of the house.

  Dorothy caught Florence’s eye as they both settled in their seats. She giggled. ‘What’s so funny?’ Florence asked, unable to help laughing at her daughter’s amusement.

  ‘Mother, you say that we have to make the most of sitting outside, but I’ve seen you sitting out here on sunny days in the winter and reading.’

  Florence shrugged. ‘Yes, I’ve done that many times, but it’s not something I imagine the two of you doing without much persuasion.’

  Margery gave a mock shiver. ‘I’d rather sit inside where it’s warm and comfier,’ she said. ‘Dorothy would too, wouldn’t you?’

  Dorothy agreed.

  Florence shook her head and couldn’t help thinking of Lily when she had first met her and how, at just a few years older than Dorothy, Lily was caring for her siblings and going without food to make sure they had enough to eat. She was relieved she had been able to protect her daughters from the difficulties so many other young girls faced on a daily basis. It occurred to her that maybe she was shielding Dorothy and Margery too much and it would soon be time for them to become aware of how so many young women lived.

  Chapter 24

  December 1902

  It was early December and much colder than it had been in recent weeks. They had experienced a few flurries of snow, but thankfully nothing had settled.

  Florence sat at her desk reviewing the silk banner in her hand. She was glad she had chosen the third and fourth verse of the poem and used it for her moral verse for this year’s Christmas gift to her female staff. Her intention had always been that these banners should be given in appreciation of her girls’ hard work and also to support them through any difficult times they might have the following year.

  She held it up for Miss Tweed to read. ‘What do you think of the verse I chose this year?’