The Lady of Pelham Street

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The Lady of Pelham Street Page 30

by Deborah Carr


  ‘Mother, you’re awake,’ Amy said, no doubt to alert Florence that their conversation could now be overheard.

  ‘You’re back, Florence,’ her mother said, checking her hair was tidy.

  ‘Yes, how are you feeling this afternoon?’

  ‘Relaxed enough to fall asleep in this pretty garden of yours. I’m feeling a little more like my old self today.’ She glanced at the two half-filled glasses.

  Florence remembered that she had used her mother’s drinking glass. ‘Sorry, Mother,’ I’ll go and fetch you a fresh glass so that you can join us and have a cool drink.’

  Florence stood and walked back into the house, happy to have seen for herself a marked improvement in her mother. Her parents had been married for so long that it was going to be difficult for her mother to fill the chasm left in her days without her husband. The children had initially found it different having their grandmother staying with them as opposed to Lily, who was much livelier and less strict, but they were all settling in well together as the days passed. All Florence knew was that she was doing what her father would have wanted her to do and taking care of her mother in the best way she knew how.

  Chapter 35

  29th July 1908

  Florence couldn’t believe she was about to celebrate yet another birthday. She had noticed the appearance of more grey in her hair these past few years, so much so that it was almost impossible to hide it any longer, but she still felt young at heart, despite what the mirror told her.

  As usual, she had arranged an outing for her girls to celebrate the occasion and six days before had taken nine hundred and fifty-three of them to the Franco-British Exhibition. It had been exhausting, but as her outings usually were, great fun as well as educational for everyone involved.

  She and Miss Tweed had finalised all the arrangements in good time and although Miss Tweed would have liked to join Florence on the outing, this time it wasn’t her sick mother holding her back. Her mother had passed away the year before and unexpectedly left her a small legacy. She had approached Jesse and Florence months before, asking for advice about buying a small cottage that was up for sale, and was now in the process of moving into it. Florence was delighted for her and happy that her loyal secretary was moving on with her life after so many years looking after others.

  The women surprised Florence with a presentation to thank her for all she had done for them. Florence gasped when she was shown the large heavy book that seemed to resemble an ornate photograph album.

  ‘Ladies, I don’t know what to say,’ Florence said when she finally managed to overcome her shock and speak. She brushed her fingers across the top of the leather cover and opened it to reveal many thick pages.

  ‘This is a thank-you from all of the women you took to the exhibition with you and to show you our continued appreciation for all that you do for us.’

  Florence opened the book and looked at the many names each written in a member of staff’s own hand. It was something she knew she would always treasure. ‘I’m going to take this home with me and show it to my family,’ Florence said. ‘Because I simply don’t have the words to describe its beauty, or, for that matter, how much your thoughtfulness means to me.’

  Florence asked for one of the porters to carry her gift to the car. She was sorry when Sam told her that Jesse was held up in a meeting. She would have preferred to stay and wait for him, but knew he would rather she went straight home, and that once Sam had dropped her off he would immediately return to collect him. She led the way as Meadows carried the gift into the house for her when she arrived home.

  ‘Please bring it into the library for me, Meadows,’ she said. ‘I want my mother and sister to see this magnificent gift. It’s from the women at Boots who came with me to the Franco-British Exhibition.’ She waited for Meadows to place the book carefully on one of the tables in the library and opened the cover. ‘See for yourself. Isn’t it marvellous?’

  Meadows stared at the colourful inscription on the first page. ‘It is splendid, madam.’

  She pictured each of the women concentrating to write their names as neatly as possible. No one would have wished to be the one to smudge their signature on one of the neat pages, each with the heading of where their store or factory was located and then above each list of names, the department name where the women worked. It would be a treasure for her to keep always and it meant a huge amount to her.

  Jesse arrived home half an hour after her. Meadows pushed his chair into the library so that Jesse could see the book. At least that was what she had expected, but when Jesse came into the room, she could see he was holding an envelope tightly in his hand and had an expression on his face that she didn’t recognise.

  Florence thanked Meadows and stepped towards Jesse. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘It’s more than all right,’ he said, holding out the envelope for her to take.

  She glanced at him before taking the single sheet letter and reading it. Then she read it twice more. ‘You’re to be knighted?’

  Jesse beamed at her. ‘It’s not something we can share publicly yet and won’t be until next year, but yes. I’m to be Sir Jesse Boot. You’ve always been a lady, as far as I’m concerned, but after I’m knighted, you’ll be one officially and it’s no more than you deserve. What do you say to that, Lady Boot?’

  Florence had no idea what to think. Jesse knighted? Her a lady? She laughed. ‘From shop girl in Jersey to being a Lady. It’s extraordinary.’ Then, bending down, she kissed Jesse. ‘I’m thrilled for you, Jesse,’ she said, her heart pounding at the enormous honour being bestowed on her husband. ‘You thoroughly deserve this recognition.’

  ‘As do you, my dearest one. I couldn’t have achieved all that I’ve done without you working beside me.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m more delighted that you’ll be Lady Boot. It has a pleasant ring to it, don’t you think?’

  Florence heard footsteps outside the library and recognised them as her mother’s, then heard Amy’s voice. ‘Do you think we can tell my mother and Amy our secret?’ she whispered. ‘No one else, I promise.’

  ‘Yes, but they must swear not to share the news with anyone else. I don’t want this getting out into the public. Imagine if it did and the honour was cancelled before we ever received it. That would be ghastly.’

  She knew Jesse was teasing, but shuddered at the prospect of him not receiving his knighthood because of something she or her mother and sister did.

  ‘We’ve been told by Meadows that you have something special you wish to show us,’ Amy said, holding the door open for her mother. ‘We’re intrigued.’

  ‘Actually,’ Florence said, keeping her voice quiet and motioning for Amy to close the library door. ‘There’s something else we want to share with you both first. Then we can show you the surprise Meadows mentioned.’

  Florence showed them the letter Jesse had received. She quietly explained about his impending knighthood being in the strictest confidence. Both nodded silently, her mother’s eyes wide. Florence thought she seemed awestruck by the unexpected news.

  ‘Now, I’ll show you my surprise. It was presented to me from the women who came with me to the exhibition.’ Florence indicated the large book and left them to it, going to sit on the nearest chair by Jesse. She waited while they studied it intently.

  ‘It’s magnificent,’ Amy gasped, stroking the beautiful cover. She opened it and gazed at the British and French flags depicted at the top of the first page with, ‘To Mrs Jesse Boot’, printed in large type and then, written in a neat hand, the words that the women had decided upon to thank Florence for the ‘pleasure and enjoyment you have so kindly and thoughtfully provided for us on many of your birthdays’.

  ‘Mother, look,’ Amy said, turning each page slowly. ‘Every store is listed and then below that each department. All the women have written their names in their own hand under their department.’

  Her mother didn’t make a sound while she studied the gift. Then she
shrieked, making them all jump in surprise. ‘Look, there’s Dorothy’s name.’ She gazed up at Florence, tears glistening in her eyes. ‘This is such a well thought out gift, Florence, and so heartfelt. You are truly loved and respected by these women.’

  ‘I am a little overwhelmed by it, if I’m honest. It took me a while to be able to show how much I appreciated their thoughtfulness when it was presented to me.’ Florence dabbed at the corners of her eyes when her emotions overwhelmed her.

  Amy left their mother to gaze at the pages and stepped back. ‘It makes me think that maybe we should have done a little more for your birthday ourselves.’

  Florence shook her head. She knew her mother was not up to people coming around to the house for a party, and more than anything she wanted her to enjoy this special day.

  ‘Not at all. I told you that having my family together was all that I wished for this year. I haven’t changed my mind. I’ve told Meadows that as it’s going to be another sultry evening we should eat outside in the garden. We should make the most of this glorious weather, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes,’ her mother agreed. ‘It’ll be turning soon enough and we’ll only regret it if we don’t make the most of what chances we have to eat outside.’

  Jesse had wanted to arrange tickets to the theatre for all of them, but Florence persuaded him that her mother wasn’t ready for outings and that she wanted them to share a quiet evening together. She was also worried that if they did make a big deal of her birthday, it might remind her mother how Florence’s father had always been the one to make a fuss of her, taking them to the beach to celebrate, or for a ride in a charabanc. He always liked to celebrate their birthdays with something special and she didn’t want to do anything that might make her mother miss him even more than she probably did already. Jesse had agreed. They finally decided that they would ask Mrs Rudge to make her special chocolate sponge cake to mark the occasion and they could all enjoy it in their garden.

  Florence heard Dorothy’s voice and then Margery’s out in the hallway. Then came John’s deeper voice as the three of them spoke with Violet. Moments later they all burst noisily into the library, giving her mother a shock.

  ‘Do you always enter rooms in such a chaotic way?’ she snapped, frowning at them.

  ‘No, Grandma.’

  ‘Good. Now come and give your grandmother a kiss while she tries to calm her nerves.’ She indicated the book in front of her. ‘Look at the beautiful gift your mother has been presented with from the women at work.’

  They did as she asked, but only after each had stopped to give Florence a brief hug and a kiss and wish her happy birthday. Florence watched her children as they stood around her mother and all studied the huge book.

  Dorothy looked across at Florence, grinning. ‘It was difficult keeping the surprise from you, Mother. Did you notice that I was allowed to sign my name too?’

  Florence nodded. ‘Your grandmother noticed it first. I’m glad you signed it. You do work there.’ She didn’t add that having Dorothy’s signature in the magnificent book made it all the more special to her.

  ‘I was very excited to be able to sign my name in something so lovely. I was terrified I’d make a mistake, or smudge the ink, but I didn’t. I bet you were thrilled to receive it?’

  ‘I was,’ Florence answered honestly. ‘It’s something I’ll treasure always, and having your name in it makes it even more precious.’

  ‘What do you think of it, Grandmother?’ John asked. ‘It looks heavy, doesn’t it? The pages are very thick. Look at the gold on the edges of each page.’

  ‘It’s a magnificent book,’ Florence’s mother said thoughtfully. ‘And shows her how much she’s loved and respected by those who work for her, if she didn’t already know it.’

  She walked over to Florence and took her hands in her own wrinkled ones. ‘Do you know, Florence, I’ve been wrong about many things. You know mostly what they are. I’ve been feeling more and more lately, as I live here with you and see for myself how well you run this home and all that you fit in to your days, how very much you’ve achieved in your life.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Florence said, touched to hear her mother saying such a complimentary thing. She was surprised to hear her talking so openly about her feelings. It wasn’t something she had ever done, not like this, anyway, and certainly not to her. ‘It’s kind of you to say so.’

  Her mother gave her hands a gentle squeeze as if to accentuate her point. ‘You don’t understand. It’s important to me that you know how proud I am of you.’ Her expression softened. She turned and gazed at each of the children in turn. ‘Not just of you, but of your children too, and Jesse. I’ve criticised your choices over the years, but you have both done so much. Not only by building your business so successfully, but in the way that you’ve helped so many other people.’

  ‘Thank you, Mother,’ Florence said, her voice cracking with emotion. She had never heard her mother speak like this. Never imagined that she knew why she worked so hard or believed that what she did was acceptable.

  ‘I haven’t finished.’ Her mother took a deep breath. ‘In your case, you’ve helped many women. I hear about these things from your sister, and I’ve read about how you’ve given many women opportunities that they otherwise would not have had or helped them in other ways. I’m inordinately proud of you, Florence. Despite my earlier reservations about you continuing to work after the children were born, you’ve proved me wrong. With all that you’ve achieved in your life, as far as I’m concerned, the greatest achievement of all has been producing these three darling children of yours. Well, they’re all nearly adults now.’

  Florence couldn’t imagine her mother would ever understand how much it meant to her to receive this commendation from her. She wiped away a stray tear.

  ‘You’re not crying, I hope?’ her mother asked, embarrassed.

  ‘Not at all,’ Florence fibbed. ‘I’m touched by what you’ve just said, that’s all. It means a lot to me. Truly it does.’ She hesitated before putting her arms around her mother and hugging her, hiding her smile when her mother stiffened at this unusual expression of affection between them.

  This was her mother’s way of saying that all her misgivings about Jesse being older, and her concerns about Florence’s life if she married him, had been completely unfounded.

  Florence had never expected her mother to admit such a thing. She had never needed her to, but hearing her mother opening up and sharing her pride in her meant the world to Florence. She knew it was a brand new start for both of them. It was the best birthday present anyone could have given her.

  The End

  If you enjoyed Mrs Boots of Pelham Street, don’t miss The Poppy Field, a similarly enthralling historical novel about two nurses separated by a century but bound by fate and fortitude. Click here to get your copy!

  And be sure to follow Deborah Carr on Twitter @DebsCarr, on Facebook @DeborahCarrAuthor, and check out her website at deborahcarr.org for all the updates on her latest work.

  In the mood for even more spellbinding historical fiction?

  You will adore Dear Rosie Hughes by Melanie Hudson. Set between a remote Scottish village and a perilous desert war, this beautiful love story will sweep you away on a heartwarming journey of reconciliation and remembrance. Get your copy here!

  You will also love The English Wife by Adrienne Chinn, an epic timeslip tale of an English nurse and a Canadian soldier who forge a new life in Newfoundland in the wake of WWII, and the secrets that follow their family down the decades to one fateful flight on 11th September 2001. Get your copy here!

  And don’t miss the historical romance of 2020, Before the Crown by Flora Harding, which immortalises the story of the secret engagement between Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip in the tempestuous wake of WWII. Get your copy here!

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  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you very much for choosing to read Mrs Boots of Pelham Street.

  Like me, Florence Boot (Née Rowe) was born in Jersey. When she married Jesse, she moved with him to his home city of Nottingham where they brought up their son and two daughters. Florence and Jesse moved to the South of France later in their lives, finally returning to Jersey where Florence died on the island at her beautiful home Villa Millbrook on 17th June 1952, aged 89. It was a special place to both of them.

  Florence and Jesse were great philanthropists both in Nottingham and Jersey. They donated much to the island including St Matthew’s Church (known as The Glass Church) with its incredible array of crystal created by Réne Lalique; Coronation Park, next to the church where I was taken to paddle in the shallow pool as a child by my mother; FB Sports Fields, where most school children have their sports days, and much more, including cottages and maisonettes for those they wanted to help.

  It was a delight to spend many months researching Florence and Jesse’s life for these books. I had thought I’d known quite a bit about Florence Boot’s life before setting out to research for these two books, but I knew the tiniest amount. There is so much more that I could have included in this book and although I’ve kept as true to Florence’s story as possible, I’ve had to leave an enormous amount of information out. Ultimately, this is the story of an amazing family, their devotion to each other and dedication to building an empire and helping as many others as possible, while facing their own private conflicts.

  I’ve been lucky enough to get to know Florence through my research, but especially from personal accounts shown to me at the Boots Archive in Nottingham and also from stories told to me by her great-granddaughter, Allison Barrington, I’ve learnt that Florence never wavered in her dedication to help others. She was an extraordinary lady who was very much ahead of her time in her beliefs that women should have the freedom to work and live their lives as they chose and not as tradition expected, and I am honoured to have been asked to write these books inspired by her.

 

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