The Lady of Pelham Street

by Deborah Carr

  ‘Margery, close the wardrobe,’ she instructed, pushing the drawers closed. ‘We have to let the servants know what’s happened, but not until much later when I’ve had a chance to speak to your father about this. He can’t be the last to find out; he would hate that. Close John’s door behind you, too. We don’t want to draw attention to anything in here and alert the household before I’m ready for them all to know.’

  ‘Yes, Mother. May I tell Dorothy when she comes back from playing tennis with her friend?’

  ‘Yes, but make sure you’re not overheard by anyone and tell her to keep it to herself for now.’

  Florence needed to manage the situation. The last thing she wanted was for Jesse to decide that John had turned his back on them and wasn’t welcome home again. She was good at finding solutions to issues at work; now she needed to put all her expertise into practice at home. The first thing she was going to do though was sit quietly in her bedroom and write to her son trying to persuade him to return home. At least then she would be able to tell Jesse that she had already begun to deal with the issue before he had even been made aware of it.

  She went to leave the room but her daughter’s sad expression stopped her. She took Margery’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. ‘Thank you for bringing John’s note directly to me and for being quiet about it. You did very well.’ She forced a smile that she hoped would help reassure Margery. ‘Don’t worry too much; John will be home again soon. I know he will,’ she insisted, hoping she was right.

  Florence went to her room and closed the door. She sat down at her Davenport and, opening the desk, took a piece of her personal headed paper and stared thoughtfully out through the window. What to write? she wondered. She needed to find a way to make John feel compelled to return home. She understood his need to leave, but running away to Canada was not the way to solve this issue.

  John was a young man, who didn’t quite know what he wanted out of life yet, but like the rest of them he needed to face his responsibilities. He couldn’t do that on the other side of the Atlantic. Florence’s upset turned to frustration. She unscrewed the top of her gold fountain pen, and began to write.

  Dearest John,

  I hope that this letter finds you well after your voyage to Canada. I have to admit that I am almost at a loss as to what I should say to you. Almost. I am, however, preparing to break the news to your father about your unexpected departure and I think we both know that it won’t be a calm conversation. It certainly isn’t one that I’m looking forward to.

  Whilst I understand your need to leave, I just wish you hadn’t thought to travel so far away, because I could then come and visit you and speak face-to-face about this situation. I know that you wish to find your own way in this life, and that is commendable, but there is so much on offer for you here. I truly believe that you should not dismiss the notion of working for Boots when you’ve never taken the time to see whether you would like working at the company. Who knows, you might find that you love working for the family business?

  I am writing to you therefore, to implore you to rethink your decision and return home at the earliest opportunity. I have never asked anything of you, but on this occasion I am. Please change your mind and come home. Do this one thing for me. We both know your father can be a hard taskmaster, but that’s only because he wants the best for everyone connected to Boots, and it’s not as if he doesn’t lead by example, is it?

  I know I am asking a lot from you, John. I want you to be happy, and I’m sure you will be when you find the right path to follow. However, you cannot discard an opportunity if you don’t take the trouble to try it first.

  I anxiously await your reply. Please know that you are very much missed at home, yes, even though at the time of writing this letter you have only just left. Your sisters send their love and I send mine. I know, too, that your father, once he has had a chance to calm down after he learns what has happened, will send his too.

  Please thank the Hamilton family from me for making you welcome at their home.

  With love,

  Your loving Mother

  Florence finished the letter. She took a calming breath and stared out of the window as the ink on the paper dried. After a few minutes, she reread her words and, unsure what else to say, but wishing the letter to catch the day’s post, she folded it, took an envelope from one of the cubby holes in her small desk, pushed the letter inside, sealed it, and then looked through her address book for Frank’s address. She was relieved to have written it down, thanks to having the family on her Christmas card list. She had no idea what she would have done if she didn’t know their address.

  Florence stood and held the envelope as she raised the mahogany lid of her desk until it was closed. How could John go without saying goodbye to any of them? She didn’t blame him for not wishing to speak to his father before going, because Jesse would have forbidden him to leave and John would have ended up quarrelling with him. John could have spoken to her though, or one of his sisters. Dorothy and Margery would have cried to watch him go, but would have hugged him, and wished him well.

  Florence put the letter down onto her dressing table and peered into her mirror. She looked ghastly. Her eyes were red and her face ashen. She sat and dabbed a little powder onto her cheeks. She really needed to gather herself before Jesse’s return that evening. Florence hurried downstairs and handed Meadows the envelope.

  ‘Please arrange for someone to take this to the nearest post office, as soon as possible,’ she said. ‘It must be posted today.’

  Meadows turned over the envelope and read the front. ‘To Canada? Master John has gone to Canada?’

  ‘Yes,’ Florence said tensing. Now that Meadows had been alerted, she knew that the rest of the servants would become aware within minutes. She didn’t want them gossiping about why he had left so suddenly. Although she knew that they would probably work it out for themselves by Jesse’s reaction later that day when she broke the news to him. ‘He’s gone to stay with Frank Hamilton’s family in Vancouver. Frank always wanted to show John the sights of the mountains and the ocean nearby. John couldn’t go before now because of his schooling, but now that he’s finished his education, he’s free to take time to travel there for a while.’

  Meadows listened intently as Florence spoke. She could see he thought John a very lucky man to be able to travel to the other side of the world so easily.

  ‘Master John must be very excited,’ Meadows said. ‘Canada is so far away. Mr Hamilton spoke to me and the other servants a few times about his father’s apple farm. It did sound very different to anything here.’

  Florence could see the envy in the young man’s face. His wish to do the same as John was almost tangible. ‘Would you like to travel across the ocean one day, Meadows?’

  His eyes narrowed dreamily. ‘Yes, Mrs Boot. I’ve always wanted to go somewhere on a ship. Somewhere that’s different from anything I’ve ever known.’ His face reddened and he stepped from one foot to the other. ‘I’m sorry, I do enjoy my work here. I don’t want you to think—’

  Florence shook her head. ‘I asked you the question and all you’ve done is answer me. I think it’s wonderful that you have ambitions to travel, and I’m sure that you’ll make many amazing discoveries when you do go.’ She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘You’re only young, Meadows, and there’s a whole world waiting out there for you to discover it.’ She laughed. ‘But not too soon, I hope. For now, I’m very happy that you stay here with us at St Heliers.’

  Meadows relaxed and smiled. ‘I can’t see me leaving for a few years yet, Mrs Boot.’

  ‘Good, that’s a relief.’

  He seemed to recall that he was holding the letter and held it up, giving it a tap. ‘I’d better go and see that this catches today’s post.’

  Chapter 31

  Florence was in the conservatory with Dorothy and Margery arranging the roses she had taken from the garden earlier into two vases. She listened as her daughters ask
ed questions about John leaving, wondering what she thought might happen next. She couldn’t worry them by saying that she didn’t know, or, heaven forbid, mention her greatest fear, that he would never return to Nottingham. Instead, she told them she believed he might take a few weeks out to enjoy the beautiful area in Vancouver where Frank’s family lived and have a holiday before coming home. She hoped she was right.

  Florence tensed when she heard Jesse’s car pulling up outside the front of the house. She looked up to see both girls staring at her, their eyes wide.

  ‘I think I’ll go to my room and read,’ Dorothy said quickly, giving her sister a knowing look.

  Margery nodded. ‘I’ll come with you.’ She gave Florence a questioning look. ‘Is that all right with you, Mother, or would you like us to stay with you while you break the news to Father?’

  Florence was touched by her daughter’s feeling of responsibility towards her. ‘No, darlings. Thank you but I think it’s better if I speak to your father alone. I expect him to be upset, so don’t be surprised if you hear him bellowing. You know how he tends to make a fuss when he’s angry.’

  She couldn’t actually think of another time when something like this had happened, but she did know her husband well enough to prepare for a noisy reaction. ‘You two go upstairs. I’m sure Father will calm down once he gets used to the idea that John has gone and there’s not much we can do now except wait to see what your brother does next.’

  She put an arm around each girl’s shoulders and kissed the tops of their heads. Hearing Jesse’s voice as he spoke to Meadows near the front door, she pushed them gently away. ‘Off you both go now.’

  She watched them run out of the conservatory into the garden, no doubt to then enter the house by the front door once their father had come through to the conservatory.

  ‘Florence?’ Jesse bellowed.

  ‘I’m in the conservatory,’ she shouted back, saddened at the cheerful note to his voice. He must have had a good day. It upset Florence to think that she was about to ruin his happiness with the news she was about to break to him. She reached for the bell. They would need tea and maybe some of Mrs Rudge’s Victoria sponge cake. Anything would be welcome that might reduce the sting of what she was about to say to him.

  She waited for Jesse to remove his coat and hat, and no doubt pass them with his briefcase to Meadows. She could picture him doing it and also knew exactly how long it would take. Then the door to the conservatory opened and he appeared, beaming at her as he walked towards her.

  ‘My darling wife, how has your day been?’

  She forced a smile. He really was in a good mood, she thought sadly. ‘I’m fine, thank you. I can see by the look on your face that you’ve had a positive day.’ She motioned to the table and chairs. ‘I’ve rung the bell for Violet. I thought we could have tea and cake in here; it’s not too hot and should actually be rather pleasant.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Jesse sat and rested his sticks against the side of his chair. ‘I was speaking to …’ He stopped mid-sentence and frowned thoughtfully. ‘Something’s the matter. Sit, tell me what it is.’

  Before Florence had the chance to do as he asked, Violet entered the room.

  ‘You rang, madam?’

  ‘Yes. Please bring tea and some of Mrs Rudge’s Victoria sponge if she’s baked any today. We’ll have it in here.’

  Florence waited for Violet to leave and sat opposite Jesse. She smoothed down her skirt, trying to find the best way to tell him that John had gone.

  ‘What is it, my love?’ Jesse reached out his gnarled left hand to take hers. When she didn’t speak immediately, his face blanched. ‘Tell me. You’re not ill, are you? Or one of the children? Please don’t tell me that there’s something wrong with one of you.’

  Florence hated to frighten him and could see that the longer it took her to speak, the more concerned Jesse was becoming. Aware that she had no choice but to hurry up and say what was worrying her so much, Florence took a deep breath and taking her hand from Jesse’s, she pulled John’s letter from her skirt pocket. She unfolded it and placed it on the table, pushing it towards him.

  ‘I’m so sorry Jesse. You’ll need to read this.’

  His eyebrows lowered and he stared at her for a second before looking down at the piece of paper in front of him. ‘It’s John’s writing,’ he murmured.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  Her hand went to her chest as Jesse read, his expression changing from shock to anger and then pain as he reread John’s letter. He was so still that Florence wondered if he was taking in the spiky words in front of him.

  Jesse pushed the letter back towards her before looking at her. ‘You’ve checked his room? This isn’t some childish prank of his, is it?’ he asked, hope obvious in his voice.

  Florence wished she could say that it was a foolish joke but shook her head. ‘He has gone, Jesse. I believe he left during the night sometime, so even if we chased him to Liverpool we wouldn’t find him in time.’

  She needed to put a positive slant on the situation. ‘It will probably do John good to spend some time in a new environment, don’t you think?’ she asked, warming to the notion. ‘Staying with Frank’s family on their apple farm, where according to him the day’s work is long and arduous. I think it’ll do John good.’ It really might, she thought. John had never had to do any menial tasks, apart from any that he might have been given at boarding school. Maybe helping out on a farm might be the experience he needed to realise that the only way to succeed in business is to put in a consistent effort.

  ‘He could do with a bit of hard labour, I think.’

  Jesse’s words angered her. They were the reason they now found themselves in this miserable situation. ‘He’s gone because he feels you’re too hard on him. That you’re never satisfied with anything he tries to do.’

  ‘Do you think I am?’ Jesse snapped.

  Florence ignored the question and continued with what she was trying to say. ‘Maybe, though, if John sees Frank working with his own father and experiences how much focus other families need to put into their business, he might come to see that we are no different to them. That people with a business to run have to be dedicated and make difficult decisions.’

  ‘We are different, though,’ Jesse argued. ‘This isn’t one small store we’re trying to keep running, it’s many stores and thousands of staff. Surely John can understand some of what it takes to keep up the motivation to stay on top of everything that entails. After all, he’s grown up in the same house as you and I. We both work hard all year round and never expect others to do anything we haven’t done ourselves.’

  Florence couldn’t argue with what he was saying. It was true. John should have some idea of the dedication it took for a business such as theirs to succeed.

  There was a gentle knock at the door before Violet entered the conservatory and carried over a tray of tea things and plates of cake.

  Jesse muttered something to himself. Florence could feel his frustration that he was having to wait to continue with what he was saying. Violet lifted each item from the tray and began setting it neatly onto the table. She moved to straighten a cake fork but Jesse snatched it from her and said, ‘Yes, thank you, Violet. That will be all for now.’

  Violet gave a little curtsey and hurried out of the room.

  Florence hated it when Jesse was impatient with the servants. ‘That was rather unnecessary, Jesse,’ she said. ‘Violet was only doing her job.’

  He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. ‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry, but she takes too long prettying things up on the table.’

  Florence didn’t argue. She didn’t want to make Jesse wait any longer to continue with his diatribe. ‘You were saying, about John.’

  Jesse slammed the fork down onto the table and glowered at her. ‘What was he thinking? Who does he think he is, upping sticks and marching off like a sulky, spoilt schoolboy? Just because I told him a few home truths.’

  Florence had to
concentrate on keeping her temper. To lose hers now would only end up with them arguing and neither would manage to get their point across.

  ‘I’m as upset as you, Jesse. Please don’t think that I’m not, but we have to calm down and work out what we’re going to do next.’

  ‘We’re going to demand he returns home immediately. That’s what we’re going to do.’

  ‘Yes, I agree, which is why I’ve already written to him and had the letter posted today. The sooner it reaches Vancouver and John reads it, the sooner he can plan his return home.’

  ‘Plan? There’s no planning about it, Florence. He will book a passage back to Liverpool and come home on the first available ship. I don’t care whether he wants to, or not. How dare he upset you like this?’

  Florence took Jesse’s nearer hand in hers. Jesse knew her well enough to see beyond her calm reaction and be aware that inside she was heartbroken that John had gone without any word. ‘He’s a young man, Jesse. John is trying to spread his wings a little. He’s spent his life doing what others have told him to do and now he needs time to make a few decisions for himself. I am upset, of course I am, and I’m angry with him. I do, though, understand his need to do this.’

  ‘I’m glad you do, because I’m struggling to accept that he’s done such an impulsive, selfish thing without a second’s thought for us, or his sisters.’

  Florence couldn’t let him say such a thing without trying to placate him. ‘We don’t know that he hasn’t been planning this for months. I doubt it was too impulsive. After all he’s been hearing Frank telling us all sorts of wonderful stories about his home for several years. And as far as being selfish, I think he’s simply a young man who doesn’t know how else to go about leaving.’