The Lady of Pelham Street

by Deborah Carr

Agnes Tweed smiled. ‘Mrs Boot, you must have asked me that question ten times over the past couple of months. I think, as I do each year, that you have made a perfect choice and I’m certain the women will cherish them.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Florence said, wishing she was as confident as her secretary that she had chosen wisely.

  Florence liked to be fair and so thought that to give the women the same gift – and one to which she had given so much thought – was the perfect way to show how much she valued each of them. For Miss Tweed and Lily, she would privately give something extra. As she did each year, Florence would arrange for a hamper to be delivered to Miss Tweed’s home that she could share with her invalid mother. For Lily, though, she still had to find a present that she felt would suit her. Florence wanted it to be something more personal that Lily could make use of. She still had time yet, she told herself.

  Florence enjoyed Christmas and each year it seemed more fun than the last. She had loved the magic that the children had felt when they were younger, but even at their ages they very much looked forward to the festivities and sharing gifts out to the servants, as well as celebrating as a family.

  Florence was as organised as ever and looked forward to starting a new year. She stroked the leather cover of her Boots scribbling diary, recalling how she had been inspired by the Pears Annuals that she treated herself to each year from her father’s stationery shop. She had tried to persuade Jesse seven years earlier that they should produce and sell them. He hadn’t taken to the idea, so Florence explained that they could include adverts for their entire business in these books. She had also cheekily suggested that they fix the price at sixpence to encourage customers to make it their tradition to buy one each year.

  She smiled to herself, recalling Jesse’s horror after speaking to their printing department and discovering that Florence was expecting him to sell something for the same amount that it cost the company to produce it. However, she had insisted that she was right and was thrilled when she’d persuaded him to at least give it a try. Now, their Boots scribbling diaries sold more with each passing year. She loved hers and it still brought joy to her each year when she received her new one.

  Her thoughts returned to Christmas preparations. She had already bought most of the presents she was giving to her family and the servants. Being Head Buyer of the Boots stores enabled her to source items that others would not have come across before. She enjoyed surprising her family and friends with these new and exciting gifts each year, and this year would not be any different.

  After a lot of thought, Florence had commissioned a painting to be done of her and the three children for Jesse’s present this year. It had been difficult at times to make appointments for sittings, especially as there had only been a few weeks when John was home over the summer and the girls weren’t busy on outings with their friends.

  Florence struggled with the feeling that she wasn’t needed as much by the children now that they were growing up. She ached for their family life to be like it had been when the children were small and she and Jesse had spent all their time away from work with them, reading them stories, planning days out, and going on picnics together.

  Jesse noticed her deep in thought one evening as she sat in the living room in front of the fire, the book she had been reading now resting in her lap.

  ‘You look as if you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. What’s wrong?’

  She shrugged his comment away. ‘It’s nothing,’ she fibbed. ‘I’m just a little tired, that’s all.’

  Jesse raised his eyebrows. ‘Florence, I know you too well to be fobbed off by that answer. Now, are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to take that book from you and hold it ransom until you do?’

  Florence laughed. Jesse knew better than to take one of her books from her. ‘I was thinking how little the children seem to need me nowadays.’

  ‘Ah, so that’s what’s troubling you.’ He smiled, looking relieved. ‘I’m sure all mothers feel the same.’

  ‘Probably,’ she agreed. At least she had her work to focus on each day, she mused. How did other women cope when their babies grew up and didn’t rely on them any more? She wondered why she had never wondered how she’d deal with this time in her life. The transition was traumatic.

  ‘Is there anything I can do to help make you feel better?’

  Florence loved him for caring so much. ‘No. I’m luckier than most women. I have you and the children are still at home for a while yet. I’ll just have to keep myself busy with my work. I’m just finding it a little difficult to come to terms with my role as a mother changing. Nothing more. I’ll be fine.’

  ***

  It was Christmas Eve and the children were in their beds and supposedly asleep, and Jesse had followed a couple of hours before. He was exhausted from working even longer hours recently and Florence was happy that he would now have a couple of enforced days away from the business. She was always at her most content when her brood were around her.

  An hour earlier, Florence had finished carefully wrapping her final present. Meadows and Harriet had helped her carry all the gifts from the back of the library out to the hall to place each of them haphazardly under the vast Christmas tree. She thought back to their first Christmases at St Heliers and how their Christmas tree had been put up in the living room, so that the family could spend the festivities cosily together. Now everything seemed bigger and more elaborate.

  She looked at the many presents; they weren’t all for the children. Florence always bought one for each of her servants, Miss Tweed, and a couple for Lily.

  She took two boxes from Meadows’s hands and noticed that although he was his usual polite, immaculate self, there was something different about him. He seemed lacklustre and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He didn’t seem to exude his usual brightness.

  ‘Like this, Mrs Boot?’ Harriet asked, moving the last present into place and distracting Florence from her concerns.

  ‘Yes, that’s perfect. The children will be very excited to see this display when they rise in the morning.’

  ‘They will,’ Harriet agreed, smiling.

  Florence knew her children were much luckier than many other children, but it gave her joy to treat them in this way. Christmas should be magical, she thought, remembering hers as being very much that way despite her parents not having the money to pay for more than one gift each. She recalled only too well the joy she had experienced every Christmas morning when she pulled on her dressing gown and crept with her younger sister Amy into their parents’ small living room.

  The air in her parents’ flat matched that of the hall and was filled with the delicious pine scent. Florence recalled the thrill of anticipation they all felt and how each of them looked forward to unwrapping their gift on their return from chapel. Florence wanted her own children to enjoy that same excitement. She looked down at the display in front of her. Florence wanted it to look as if Father Christmas had visited and had strewn a pile of brightly coloured items under their vast tree.

  Since they had first set up their tree in the hall, it occurred to Florence that it was the one place in the household where everyone would see it many times each day. Why choose to keep something this magical hidden away from the servants who would have no cause to visit the living room? It was now one of their festive traditions and she hoped the servants enjoyed it as much as they did.

  Nellie poked her head around the baize door. Florence noticed her and waved her over to where she was standing.

  ‘What do you think, Nellie?’

  The young woman’s eyes were wide as she stared up at the tall, intricately decorated tree. ‘It’s perfect.’

  ‘Are you happy with the one in the servants’ quarters?’ Florence asked, referring to the smaller one in their living room that Meadows had set up earlier in the week.

  ‘It’s beautiful, Mrs Boot. When I went to speak to Mr Meadows in the servants’ sitting room last week and saw Mrs Ru
dge and Violet decorating the pretty tree that you and Mr Boot ordered for us, I couldn’t help thinking how very kind you are to us all.’

  A lump constricted Flornce’s throat. It mattered to her that those in her house had a special time over Christmas. Most of them had now worked for her family for several years and seeing their delight each year brought it home to her how special this time should be.

  ‘We want you all to treasure this time,’ Florence said. Then, thinking of Nellie’s mother, brother, and son, asked, ‘How’s your mother? Is she well?’

  Nellie gave Florence a tight smile. ‘She’s much happier since I’ve been working here, Mrs Boot. She feels like we’ve got back some of the respectability the family lost since, well, since what happened when I fell for my boy.’

  ‘I’m glad, Nellie.’

  ‘You’ve done more for me than anyone else ever has, Mrs Boot.’

  Florence was relieved that after her initial misjudgement that had caused Nellie and her family so much humiliation, she had been able to make things right. What Nellie didn’t realise, though, was how much Florence appreciated having the means to be able to help her, and her other female staff when they needed her to. It was a luxury few could afford.

  Chapter 25

  Spring 1904

  The following months passed quickly and despite Jesse’s assurances to the contrary, she couldn’t ignore the signs that his health was continually declining. It had been doing so steadily since his physical collapse three years before. She watched him attempting to mount his horse to conduct his usual store visits and, unable to bear the pain of seeing his increasing frustration as his groom failed to get him up onto the saddle, Florence went outside to confront her husband.

  ‘For pity’s sake, stop being so feeble,’ Jesse shouted at the poor man attempting to assist him.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir. I’ll try again.’ He glanced at Florence, his face red from effort and humiliation, and she decided that he had endured enough.

  ‘Jesse, please come inside for a moment. I need to speak to you about something.’

  ‘Now is not the time, Florence,’ he snapped, taking hold of the front and back of the saddle while he waited for the groom to try once again to give him a leg up onto the horse.

  ‘Now is exactly the time,’ she argued, standing with her hands on her hips, aware that he would know by her stance that she meant business and would not accept any further rebuttal.

  Jesse stared at her for a moment before letting go of the saddle. ‘Wait for me. I shouldn’t be too long.’

  Florence walked with Jesse into the house and drew him into the living room, closing the door behind them. ‘Sit down, Jesse,’ she said, taking a seat opposite his usual chair.

  Jesse sighed heavily. ‘I think I know what you’re going to say.’

  She hoped so, because it would save a lot of time and worry about how best to say what was on her mind. ‘Go on then, what do you think it is?’

  Jesse unbuttoned his jacket and sat back in the chair. He was perspiring and she was angry with him for pushing himself unnecessarily.

  ‘You are angry with me for shouting at the groom.’

  Once again he was in denial about his physical wellbeing. ‘Yes, I am,’ Florence said, ‘but not only because of you giving that poor man a difficult time.’ She leant forward. ‘Jesse, you know as well as I do that you shouldn’t be riding horses any longer.’

  He frowned indignantly. ‘I disagree …’

  She shook her head. ‘No, you don’t, not if you’re being honest. We both know that you don’t have the strength in your legs to control a horse. Do you? Honestly.’

  Jesse lowered his gaze and seemed to age in front of her eyes. She glanced at his poor hands, becoming more misshapen by the year. He struggled so much with his walking now, too. It broke her heart to see her beloved husband in such a state, but mostly she was frightened for him when he pushed himself too far.

  ‘Jesse, you have to accept that you can’t do all the things you used to do.’

  ‘I can’t do very much at all,’ he said miserably.

  Florence moved to sit next to him on the arm of his chair. ‘It’s unfair and heartbreaking for you, I know that, but I also know that you have no choice but to give in to some of the restrictions you now face with your body. Like riding horses.’

  ‘I need to inspect the stores,’ he argued, but she could see it was only a half-hearted attempt to fight back.

  ‘I couldn’t bear for you to fall off and hurt yourself, or even worse, be killed. Jesse, we both need to be sensible. There’s no reason to stop your visits to the stores, but you need to change your mode of transport. You could go by carriage. It would be more comfortable, and at least you would stay dry when it rains. I always worry about you catching a chill when you’re caught out in bad weather.’

  ‘You’re always fretting about me.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘I know, but that’s because I love you and want you around for as long as possible.’

  ‘It’s so damned unfair,’ Jesse shouted. ‘I used to be such a fit young man, always swimming, walking for miles and miles.’

  Florence’s heart ached for him. ‘Yes, I know. It is horribly unfair. But we have to face the fact that there are certain things you need to change and one of those is riding horses. Right away, Jesse. Now, will you tell the groom that you won’t be going out on horseback again, or would you like me to do it?’

  ‘No,’ he said after a moment’s hesitation. ‘I’ll do it.’

  Florence helped Jesse to stand and watched him walk with great difficulty out of the room. Why was life so cruel sometimes? she wondered. It was agonising to watch someone with Jesse’s determination and zest for life being constricted by his physical weaknesses. They would need to sell the horses too, she thought sadly. It would be too painful for Jesse to keep them and not be able to ride them. She struggled to hold back her tears.

  Florence hoped Jesse would be able to continue as the head of the Boots empire, but worried that if his health continued to deteriorate at its current rate, he would have no choice but to stand down and spend more time at home taking things easy. She knew it was an impossible notion for Jesse not to work; Boots was his life.

  She decided to go and sit quietly in the library. Maybe a book would take her mind off her worries about Jesse. Florence walked through to the next room and stood in front of the rows of books that she and Jesse had chosen over the years. They had a massive collection that they were so proud of, but now she stared at them and couldn’t think of one that would stop her from fretting about her husband.

  Eventually she decided against bothering with a book and instead sat by the window looking out at her rose garden. She and Jesse had chosen the roses with care when they had first moved in to the house. She loved the different colours and scents, especially of the tea roses closest to the window, and on warm summer evenings the delicious scent would waft into the library, making her smile and think back to those first few years living here when the children were toddlers.

  ‘Florence?’ she heard Jesse calling from the hallway. She stood up to go to the door to let him know where to find her.

  ‘I believe Mrs Boot might be in the library, sir,’ Meadows said, just as Florence went to take hold of the door handle. ‘Would you like me to have a look for you?’

  Jesse must have said yes, because a moment later Florence heard Meadows’s footsteps nearing the library door. Just before he opened it, she let go and stepped back.

  ‘Oh, Mrs Boot, I didn’t hit you with the door, did I?’ Meadows asked, looking stunned to see her standing immediately inside the room.

  Florence shook her head. ‘No, I heard you coming and stepped back.’ She stepped forward and spotted Jesse. ‘I’m through here. Shall I come to you?’

  ‘No,’ he snapped angrily. ‘I can still walk, you know. Just about.’

  They went back into the library and sat on the nearest chairs. She could see
a sparkle in Jesse’s eyes but couldn’t imagine what had caused that to happen.

  ‘You’re looking rather pleased with yourself,’ she said, hoping that he was happy and that she hadn’t read his expression wrongly.

  ‘I am. I went to speak to Sam, the groom.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, unsure why he was telling her something she already knew. ‘And what did he say? He must have realised that if you didn’t need the horses you would also not be needing his services in the future.’ She was confused. Why would Jesse look happy about letting someone go? That was not like him at all.

  ‘He suggested that if I can’t ride horses, maybe I should purchase an automobile to take me wherever I need to go instead.’

  Florence stared at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. ‘An automobile? Would you want one? Are they safe?’ She tried to think of all the benefits of Jesse being able to drive around on four wheels rather than in a carriage.

  ‘Yes, I think it’s a tremendous idea. I told him that if he learnt to drive the thing, then he can be my chauffeur. Don’t you think that’s a good idea? I might even learn to drive myself around. Wouldn’t that be fun?’

  Florence wasn’t so sure. At least, she reasoned, it would mean Jesse giving up riding, so this had to be a preferable option. ‘I think it’s a marvellous idea. And if Sam learns to drive the automobile then you won’t have to let him go. Then everyone will be happy.’

  ‘Especially you,’ Jesse said with a grin.

  ‘Yes,’ Florence smiled. ‘Especially me.’

  ‘We could go on outings together. Drive out to discover new places on the weekends. It would make travelling from here to Plaisaunce much quicker.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I could visit more stores at a time, too.’ Jesse nodded. ‘I’m liking this idea of Sam’s more by the minute.’

  All Florence knew was that Jesse had found an alternative to riding his beloved horses, as well as a way to keep his independence. Jesse’s fears about losing his mobility had once again been soothed. He wasn’t going to have to find a way to take a step back from his position at the helm of his business empire, and for that she was enormously grateful.