Harpers Heroes

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘That is disappointing,’ Sally said, looking down her list. ‘I was hoping to buy a dozen tea sets and four dinner services from you…’

  ‘Let me check,’ the salesman said.

  Sally frowned over her list until he returned.

  ‘We still have three sets of dinnerware in stock, Mrs Harper. It is Shelly and a violets pattern.’

  ‘Oh yes, I remember we had one last year. You have three the same?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Harper.’

  ‘May I take them all please?’

  ‘Yes, of course. In tea sets we have a rather nice line in blue and white willow pattern earthenware, if I could persuade you to try it? It is a rather nice quality.’

  ‘Well…’ She hesitated; it wasn’t what she wanted or what her customers truly wished for, but if nothing else was available it would do to fill the shelves. ‘I’ll try three and see how they go.’

  ‘I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,’ he told her. ‘The younger customer buys a lot of these sets, Mrs Harper. They cannot afford the more expensive porcelain – although bone china is always more popular with all our customers.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see how they go,’ Sally said and placed her order. Whatever she managed to buy filled empty spaces on the shelves. She would have to ring around all the manufacturers and see what else she could pick up. It was time-consuming and harder than just ringing the firms she liked best and some of the stuff wasn’t the quality she preferred, but in these difficult times, she had to fill the store with the best she could find.

  Ruth knocked at the office door and entered when Sally said she could.

  ‘Yes, Ruth, what is it?’ she asked with a smile.

  ‘There’s a Mr Alexander to see you. I told him you were busy, but…’

  ‘I’m never too busy to see him.’ Sally jumped up and walked to the door and looked into the outer office. ‘Mr Alexander, do come through. I’m so pleased to see you – and honoured that you came to visit me.’

  ‘Sally Harper,’ he said and smiled warmly. ‘I’ve been visiting one of our patients. He told me you’d been to see him recently – and I think you’ll agree that he is looking much better.’

  Sally nodded. She’d been to visit Captain Maclean on the afternoon of Marlene’s last visit and he’d been remarkably cheerful, the lost, bleak look gone from his eyes. His face structure had been rebuilt and although there was scarring, he now looked like a man again. He’d thanked her for her visit and Sally had made a vow to herself to drop in at the hospital at least once a fortnight in future. No matter how busy she was, visits and small gifts meant so much to the men who had lost so much on the field of battle.

  ‘It is a miracle what you managed to do for him,’ Sally said, taking his outstretched hands to press them gratefully. ‘I cannot thank you enough – I hardly thought it possible you could do so much and I’m certain it has given Captain Maclean the will to go on living.’

  Mr Alexander nodded. ‘I can’t make him the handsome devil he once was, but he looks halfway normal now and by the time we’re finished, he’ll be able to face the world without making the ladies scream and run away.’

  ‘Only very foolish ladies would do that,’ Sally said and he laughed, highly amused.

  ‘I love it that you scorn mere mortals,’ he told her with a quirk of his eyebrow. ‘Of course, you took it in your stride.’ His smiled teased. ‘So now I’ve come to ask you to lunch with me. I have a couple of hours to kill before I return to my home town and I have a request for you, or perhaps your husband. I need more surgical supplies and I’m hoping either you or Mr Harper can help source them, perhaps from your contacts in America?’

  ‘After what you’ve done for our patients, we could do no less.’ Sally glanced at the work piled on her desk and smothered a sigh. This man had given up his time for her and she wanted to do all she could in return, even though she would have to work later this afternoon. ‘I thank you for the invitation and I should be delighted to have lunch with you – where are we going?’

  ‘I thought you might recommend somewhere?’ he said, and Sally nodded.

  ‘I know of a very nice restaurant and they always have a table for me – it belongs to a friend of mine and it’s not too far away.’

  Sally enjoyed the meal at Mick’s restaurant as always. They still managed to produce a varied menu and the food was as well-cooked as ever. Somerset gammon steaks were one of the main features, cooked under the grill to perfection and served with mushrooms, chips and a delicious red cabbage that had been spiced with herbs and vinegar. It was followed by a spotted dick and custard that caused Mr Alexander to smile as he devoured his portion.

  ‘I didn’t think they had proper food in London,’ he told Sally with a look of satisfaction. ‘Trust you to know where to eat, Sally Harper.’

  ‘Mick only employs the best cooks,’ she said, with a gurgling laugh that drew the eyes of several diners. ‘He will be delighted when I tell him how much you enjoyed the spotted dick – he says you can’t beat good home-style cooking and all these fancy foreign puddings are not worth tuppence.’

  Her companion chuckled. ‘I think I should like your Mick – is he here?’

  ‘Oh no, he is serving in France – well, to be precise, he is in a hospital bed there at the moment. My friend Maggie wrote and told me he is a true hero. He led an assault on enemy lines and was wounded.’ She saw Mr Alexander’s inquiring look and shook her head. ‘I understand it is a minor wound in the chest and shoulder – he was lucky that it didn’t enter his heart. A cigarette case deflected the bullet apparently.’

  ‘They are often useful when it comes to chest wounds,’ he agreed thoughtfully. ‘I’ve heard of a good case stopping a bullet before. Your friend was lucky, Sally.’

  ‘Yes, he was,’ she said and smiled. ‘He would say it was the little people – the leprechauns.’

  ‘Oh, he’s Irish, is he?’ Mr Alexander smiled. His eyes quizzed her from across the table. ‘And is he in love with you, Sally Harper? All the young men you keep sending me are half in love with you – I feel a bit that way myself…’ His twinkling eyes mocked her, making her laugh and shake her head, because he was merely teasing.

  ‘Now you sound as if you’ve kissed the blarney stone, Andrew. You know very well I’m married to a man I love very much.’

  ‘Unfortunately, I do, and having met Ben when I was last down, I have no hope of displacing him in your heart,’ he said with a look of mischief. Ben had called to see him at the London hospital on one of his brief visits and they’d had a long discussion. Ben had told Sally how much he liked the man and encouraged her to give him all the assistance she could.

  ‘Has anyone ever told you, you are a terrible flirt?’ Andrew Alexander was unmarried and liked to tease her; she imagined he had a flock of female admirers, because of his looks, rough charm and undoubted skill, and she took little notice of his declaration of love, understanding it was just his way.

  ‘Dozens of times – as many times as I fall in love,’ he said. ‘It happens quite regularly, so don’t let it disturb you, Sally Harper.’

  ‘No, I shan’t,’ she said and her eyes were bright with amusement. ‘I shall continue to send you men who need your attention – and Ben will continue to send you as many of your clinical needs as he can.’

  ‘She wounds her admirers as she tosses them aside,’ he said and kissed her hand gallantly. ‘I shall pay our bill and then I must love and leave you, Mrs Sally Harper.’

  ‘I enjoyed it very much, Andrew,’ she said and kissed his cheek lightly. ‘Don’t die of a broken heart, will you? We need you too much.’

  ‘It was an enjoyable experience,’ he told her as they parted. ‘Go back to your busy life and your husband and take no notice of this broken-hearted man.’

  Sally laughed. Andrew Alexander was a man who worked hard and saw the most heart-wrenching injuries. Most men would feel sick to their guts and be unable to wield the knife that healed and helped the unf
ortunate patients, but he used humour and sheer determination to pull his patients through, giving no quarter and expecting none. Mick would be delighted to know that she’d taken a man like that to his restaurant and that the food had been heartily approved.

  Smiling, she returned to her office and her desk. She had about thirty manufacturers she needed to ring and persuade or cajole into giving her the best of whatever was available.

  It was around five that evening when the door of her office opened and Ben walked in. ‘Still at it, love?’ he said. ‘Is Mrs Hills with Jenny?’

  ‘Yes, she was going to stay later for me – I’m afraid I was taken out to lunch by Mr Alexander and I got behind with my work.’

  ‘As long as Jenny is all right,’ he said. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I had a long letter from my sister and she’s fine – and she and her family are all coming over in June.’

  ‘Jenni is coming – and her husband?’ Sally was surprised. It was the first time Jenni’s husband had come with her and she hadn’t yet met him. Nor had she met Henry’s son, the little boy Jenni loved so much but who was the child of his first wife.

  ‘Yes, all of them – little Tom as well. Jenni says she’s a bit worried how he’ll react to the sea voyage, but he wants to come apparently, says he needs to face his nightmares.’

  ‘Let’s hope it helps him. I know he suffered a long time,’ Sally said. ‘I’m glad they’re all coming this time. Will they stay with us?’

  ‘We don’t have room for all of them, so I’m sure she has booked a hotel,’ Ben said and smiled. ‘It’s quite a relief to hear from her, I can tell you.’

  Sally nodded, because she knew he’d worried about his sister. ‘Did she say why she hadn’t been in touch?’

  ‘No, not a word, which is odd,’ Ben said. ‘I know she got my telegram – but she still didn’t say why she hadn’t written.’

  ‘I suppose she was just too busy.’

  ‘Jenni is never too busy to write to you, Sally. She sent her love and I know she longs to see her namesake.’ They’d named their daughter in her honour but spelled it differently.

  ‘You think she has been ill, don’t you?’ Sally went to put her arms about him. ‘I knew you were anxious about her, Ben. She is bound to tell us what is wrong when she’s here…’

  ‘Perhaps – it just isn’t like her, Sally. Even her letter is restrained, not her usual style.’ Ben looked at her. ‘I hope this isn’t too much for you, love? I sometimes think it is unfair of me to leave it all to you.’

  ‘You have enough to do and I know your job is important,’ Sally told him with a smile. ‘Besides, I love it. It can be frustrating when I can’t buy what I want or as much as we need, but I just have to keep trying other suppliers.’

  He looked at her anxiously. ‘Don’t get ill, Sally. I couldn’t bear it if you did.’

  Sally laughed and shook her head. ‘I’m blooming, Ben. You don’t need to worry about me.’

  ‘Good.’ He smiled and took her in his arms to kiss her. ‘I’ll be away this weekend – don’t look alarmed, I’m not going on some madcap adventure, my love. I’m just meeting some important visitors from overseas – and that’s all I can tell you.’

  ‘I don’t need to know,’ she said and hugged him. ‘Just come back to me safe – that’s all I ask.’

  25

  Beth read her letter with a slight frown. Maggie had written a long letter about someone called Sister Mayhew, who was wonderful, her life at the field hospital, and the constant flow of patients. Apart from her touching letter to Fred, she had hardly mentioned Tim. Perhaps she couldn’t bear to, Beth thought and sighed. She no longer felt angry with Maggie for not coming home to the funeral, but she couldn’t stifle her feelings of hurt. It seemed that Maggie had grown away from them and Beth had to learn to adjust. She read the letter for a second time:

  The Germans have started to use a terrible new weapon. The men first saw it drifting towards them at dusk. It happened first at a place north of Ypres and they say it was like a greenish-yellow mist swirling towards them. No one understood what it was or what it could do, but we’ve had some of the patients transferred here and it is terrible. They are in such pain and distress, Beth, and the doctors say it has affected their lungs. We don’t really know how to treat it, but we just do what we can to help and comfort them. The men have been told to hold wet clothes to their faces if they see such a mist again, and when they attack, as there is nothing yet to protect them. Sister Mayhew says the boffins will be working on something we can all wear to protect us, but I fear for those already affected and think they may not recover.

  Maggie’s letter continued in much the same way for another two paragraphs and only at the end did she at last mention Tim.

  I know your hearts are broken, as is mine. I shall never forget Tim, but life goes on and it is such a struggle here that I have decided I must put my personal grief aside and devote my energies to caring for these poor men. They need us so much and I have decided to stay on after my six months is up…

  ‘I don’t understand her,’ Beth said aloud.

  Her father-in-law looked at her, his eyebrows raised. ‘Is something wrong, Beth?’

  ‘Read it yourself – it doesn’t sound like Maggie at all.’

  Fred frowned and picked up the letter, reading it silence and then nodding thoughtfully. ‘Put yourself in her place for a moment, Beth. The poor girl is living through scenes that we can only imagine, daily. The suffering those poor men are enduring must be a torment to a young girl like Maggie. Remember, she is just nineteen. I think she is simply facing her grief in the only way she can – by working so hard that she blots it out of her mind.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Beth said and sighed. ‘I know it’s hard for her, Fred, but surely she didn’t have to stay longer than her tour of duty. She could have come home and let us look after her.’

  ‘I think sometimes grief goes too deep for that, Beth love.’ Fred smiled at her. ‘I was lucky. I had you and Jack to lean on. If I’d had to face it alone…’ A shudder went through him. ‘That girl’s out there in the middle of it, facing all sorts of things, and we should admire her courage. I’m not sure I would have been strong enough to do what she does. I’m glad that girl is getting on with her life, Beth, and she’s right – those poor buggers out there need her more than ever now. That gas is wicked stuff and the Germans were protected from it with masks and helmets, so they just drove our men back from the trenches with their bayonets and guns. Fortunately, the Canadians hadn’t been affected by it and they pushed the enemy back. Not before they’d advanced for nearly four miles, so the papers say.’

  Beth nodded, looking at him sadly. Fred had wept for his lost son, but he’d carried on working, so perhaps Maggie wasn’t doing much different. It still hurt that she hadn’t come home to them, but Fred was right and Maggie was coping the best way she could.

  ‘I’ll send her some sweets and some Yardley soap; she likes the lavender one,’ Beth said and smothered a sigh. Why did this war have to happen? Why wasn’t Maggie still working at Harpers where she could see her every day?

  ‘That’s right, Beth.’ Fred looked at her with approval. ‘You tell her you’re thinking of her and send her something nice. It must be hard for them to get anything out there.’

  Beth was busy at her counter when Sally Harper entered the department that morning. She stood watching the customers and seemed to approve, chatting to Marion and Becky and young Shirley for a moment before coming to Beth when her customer left carrying the distinctive Harpers’ bags.

  ‘Is trade keeping up?’ Sally asked her as Beth tidied away the bags she’d been showing her customer. ‘I’ve managed a decent order of leather bags and silver jewellery. Thankfully, we have good British suppliers for those – and there is a new range of Scottish brooches I think you will approve. They are silver and have semi-precious stones like amethyst and agate set in them.’

  ‘Did Mr Alexander tell you where to s
ource them?’ Beth asked smiling. She knew of Sally Harper’s success with the eminent facial surgeon and also that he’d taken her to lunch the last time he was down.

  ‘Yes, he did as a matter of fact. The supplier is a cousin of his – he does have quite a lot of family in Scotland, though he lives and works in Newcastle. I’m also getting a new range of Scottish shortbread for the sweets and cakes department. Rather special ones, I understand – Marlene told me about those.’ She smiled. ‘I’m lucky to have such good friends.’

  Beth nodded. ‘I noticed the bone china section was looking a little thin, Mrs Harper.’ She always addressed her friend formally during working sessions. ‘Are you having difficulty in sourcing new lines?’

  ‘It hasn’t been easy,’ Sally Harper admitted. ‘I have found a small potter down in Devon and he’s going to send me some samples of what he calls studio pottery – vases and various mugs and teapots – but I’m also trying some earthenware tea sets.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose that will suit some of the younger customers. We had two sets bought for us when we married. I don’t like them as much as my bone china, but I use them for every day. You may find they sell as well as the ones you prefer, Mrs Harper.’

  ‘Yes, well, I just hope our regulars understand there is a war on and it isn’t easy to provide everything we did before it started to bite.’

  ‘What about the clothes side?’ Beth asked.

  ‘We can stock our rails with British goods still – especially wool and cotton that is produced here, though the raw cotton is getting scarcer, but I can’t buy enough real silk or many of the beautiful brocades our customers love for their evening dresses, which came from Italy and France. Instead, I’m offering an alteration service. Minnie came up with the idea. She can change the style of an old-fashioned dress where the material is still good, take sleeves out and add frills or remove them, trim the gown with ribbons that make it look new.’