I have run out of paper, so I will sign off now. Don't be surprised if my letter has been censored when you receive it. I hope the others are all behaving themselves while I’m away.
Miss you all, keep safe and keep writing.
Robert xxx
Sarah's hands flopped down onto her lap. ‘He's alive,’ she whispered. She looked down at the letter. The tears coursed down her cheeks, coming to rest on her lips. ‘He's alive.’ The saltiness coated her tongue as she spoke. She leant over and picked up her cup of tea and sipped it, grimacing as the lukewarm liquid filled her mouth. Replacing the cup on its saucer, she hugged the precious letter close to her chest. How she’d love to share it with the others, but she enjoyed the time she had alone, so she could read it as many times as she liked.
*
George had been tempted to have lunch at the club, but he had looked in the restaurant area and the tables were all occupied. Edward had warned him more men were eating their meals there these days. He had thought it was because of the reported food shortages. George sighed, silently berating himself for not having thought of it earlier and reserving a table.
‘George.’ A grey-haired man waved from inside the restaurant.
George smiled and waved back, not convinced he knew who it was. He kept walking towards the library.
The club was as busy as usual, but the atmosphere had become subdued over the last few months. As he walked past, George glanced into the gaming room. The large windows were open and the dark green curtains billowed into the room, as the breeze caught them. It wasn't full, or as raucous as it had been a year ago. He looked around, not really expecting to find Luke in there. Men were playing cards, but there were no cigars burning away in ashtrays and no money piled high on the tables.
A middle-aged man laughed, as he laid his cards out for his opponent to see. ‘Right, I think you'll find your tab has gone up; you now owe me sugar and cigarettes.’
The older man ran his fingers over his greying moustache. ‘Don't tell the wife, whatever you do. She'll skin me alive.’
‘Don't worry, I won't hold you to it.’ The younger man smiled. ‘After all, if she does you in, who else am I going to play cards with?’
George chuckled at the banter that was being exchanged, but he did wonder if the shortages, and everything going up in price, were beginning to bite, even for the more affluent. Were they feeling the pinch along with everyone else, or did they just think it was inappropriate to be having fun? He shrugged his shoulders as he walked away. Luke was a lot of things, but a gambler he was not.
George walked into the Library and frowned as he spied Luke sitting reading his newspaper, in the usual corner, by the window. He began weaving between the tables and chairs, nodding his hellos to their occupants as he passed.
Luke peered over his newspaper, in George's direction. The pages rustled as he shook it a little, to straighten them. He closed and folded it, before placing it on the centre of the table.
‘Good day, Luke.’ George pulled out a chair and sighed as he sat down.
‘Morning, George.’ Luke pulled a fob watch from the pocket of his tweed waistcoat. He sprung the cover and studied the time, before snapping the lid shut again. ‘Perhaps I should say afternoon, George.’
George gave a weak smile, before picking up the newspaper, unfolding it and glancing at the headlines. He shook his head and without a word, folded it and put it back down.
Luke glanced down at the table, staring at the paper for a few minutes, before stretching out his hand to touch the corner. He pushed it slightly to the left, so it was straight and central to him. He pulled in his lips, before raising his eyes to look at George. ‘Is there any news?’
‘Shall we order coffee?’ George twisted in his seat, to get the steward’s attention.
Luke sucked in his breath and his body tensed in the chair. ‘That doesn't sound good.’
George looked back at him, squinting as the sunshine caught him. ‘Not at all. To be honest, I don't have much in the way of news.’
The steward cleared his throat.
George looked up. ‘Can we have two coffees, strong ones please.’
The steward nodded and walked away.
‘I can't abide weak coffee.’ George raised his eyebrows. ‘As I said when we spoke, a lot of the people I knew have died or retired. I’ve spoken to friends of friends and they are going to try to find out some information, but you need to know they are inundated with work, so it’ll take some time.’
Luke arched his eyebrows. ‘Ridiculous, I know.’ He looked down at the table. ‘But I had been hoping for a speedy outcome.’
Without a word, the steward placed their coffee cups in front of them and walked away.
Luke glanced at George as he opened his mouth to speak, but he held up his hand. ‘I know what I said was unreasonable. It just goes to show I didn't think about others being in the same position; you know, looking for news of loved ones.’
George nodded. ‘Apparently, there are hundreds of people writing to Kitchener's War Office every day, hoping to get news.’
Luke nodded. ‘It stands to reason, doesn't it?’ His chest tightened. He held his breath. ‘Thank you for trying though. I know you didn't have to.’
Pity swept over George, as he watched the disappointment and worry chase across his face. He had never seen this side of Luke before and he realised something fundamental had changed in him. ‘I’ll stay on it, I promise, and as soon as I get news, I will let you know.’
‘Thank you.’
A middle-aged man rushed in the doorway of the library, gasping for breath. ‘There’s been an accident,’ he yelled, while holding his chest. ‘I don't know the details, but an ambulance crashed near Victoria Station. I was told the woman was in a pretty bad way, and apparently it doesn't look good.’
Murmurs travelled around the room.
Luke jumped up, knocking the table and spilling coffee into the saucer. ‘Was the woman driving it?’ he yelled, not stopping to think about the consequences of his outburst.
The man frowned. ‘I believe so.’
Luke's eyes glistened, as he stared down at George. ‘I have to go.’ He turned and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘Sorry, but I don't know whether Alice was on duty today.’
‘Shall I come with you?’ George shouted at Luke's back, as he hurried out of the room.
‘I can't wait; I need to find Alice.’
Chapter 25
Foyles was as busy as ever. There was a constant noise of conversation. Some customers were talking to staff, seeking directions to find books, but not knowing who the publisher was. Many just wanted to talk to someone. Paper rustled, as books were wrapped, ready to be delivered to customers. New and used books were constantly arriving, ready to be catalogued and crammed onto the shelves. None were ever turned away.
‘Alice?’ a man yelled. ‘Alice, are you in here?’
‘What’s happened? Are you all right? Can I help?’ The lady’s voice tried to calm the man.
There was so much he hadn’t said or done. Panic coursed through his veins. He was a child standing there, not the man who had once ruled with an iron fist. ‘No, no, I need Alice.’ His head frantically moved from left to right. ‘Alice, are you here?’ he shouted again, making sure he could be heard above the growing interest he had created, as it travelled around the shop.
The raised voice caught Alice's attention. Had someone called her name? She twisted right and left, but didn't have a full view of the commotion, by the entrance to the store. Her thoughts immediately went to Arthur and her mother. She stood frozen to the spot, as fear gripped her heart. She gasped as he ran into view. What was her father looking so agitated about? He was flushed and gasping for breath. She ran around to the other side of the counter.
‘Alice.’ Luke lowered his head and rested his hands on his thighs, as he tried to catch his breath.
Colour drained from Alice’s face. Her eyes were dark with
anxiety. The walls of the store were closing in on her. ‘What is it? Is Arthur all right?’ Alice ran towards him, her heart pounding. ‘Is it Mother? What's happened?’
Luke tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs were on fire. ‘You're safe.’
‘What?’ Alice held his arm, as she stood in front of him. ‘Tell me what's wrong.’
Luke stood upright and took a deep breath. ‘I was at the club, talking to George, when someone came in and said there had been accident near Victoria Station, involving an ambulance and I thought…’
‘Oh my goodness.’ Alice paled. ‘And you thought…’
‘Yes I did.’ Luke's eyes dampened as he looked at his daughter. ‘It was just unthinkable,’ he whispered. He licked his dry lips, as his eyes darted around.
‘Oh Father, I’m so sorry.’ Alice stroked his arm; the handmade jacket was soft under her hand. ‘I’ve been here all day.’
Luke gave a shaky laugh. He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. The woody scent of his cologne caught in her nose.
‘He said it didn't look good for the driver, and I just ran.’ He squeezed her tight. ‘The thought of—’
‘I know. Don't say it.’ Alice returned the hug, ignoring the glances from the customers moving around them.
Luke pulled back and stared at Alice. His chin trembled. ‘I came here first, because it was nearest. I was so frightened you wouldn't ever know how much I love you, and all my children.’ He paused, watching Alice's eyes well up. ‘You and this damn war have made me realise a few things, and the thought of—’
‘Sssh, everything’s all right.’ Alice took half a step back, to look at him properly. ‘You don't have to explain; I do understand. I’ve been an emotional wreck since I've had Arthur.’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I wasn't great before, but having a baby, and with the boys being away, I’ve turned into a constant worrier.’ She looked down for a moment. ‘It's the fear that does it.’ She glanced back at her father. ‘The fear that you’ll never see them again, and all the things you haven't said, that you wished you’d been brave enough to say before they left.’
Luke nodded. ‘You are very wise for someone so young.’ He sucked in his breath through pursed lips and shook his head. ‘Some poor family and friends will be living the same fear I felt, before I found you.’
Alice frowned. ‘That's true. We’re all ultimately living the same life, one that is filled with fear. The rest doesn't matter.’
Luke pulled Alice towards him and held her tight. ‘I had better let you get back to work. Let's hope you don't get into trouble because of me. I just didn't think, when I came running in.’
‘Don't worry, everything will be fine.’ Alice patted his back, before drawing away. ‘What did you say to me, “keep the faith,” and that's what you must do.’ She laughed. ‘Practice what you preach.’
Luke smiled. ‘All right, I'll try.’ His hands dropped to his sides. ‘I'll see you after work.’
Alice nodded. ‘I’m at Victoria Station after work, working on the buffet table, so I’ll be home later than usual,’ she whispered.
Luke nodded, before giving her a last squeeze. ‘Stay safe.’
Alice nodded as she watched him turn to walk out of the shop, before returning to her counter. Her legs were trembling. She sat on the wooden chair, wondering if she had fallen asleep and dreamt what had just happened.
*
Alice straightened her white apron, protecting the good clothes she had worn at Foyles earlier. There had been no time for her to go home and change. She began busying herself, placing cups on the buffet table and slicing cake, noticing there was less since the food shortages had hit the shops. She could no longer bring herself to look at the expectant upturned faces of the women and children waiting for the trains to crawl into Victoria Station. It broke her heart to see the chins wobble, as disappointment crept across their faces, when their loved ones didn't appear. She knew the sadness would be quickly chased away by a determination to be strong and protect their children from the disappointment, but Alice wondered how long the families could keep living that way. She jumped as a train gave a long whistle, on its approach to the station platform. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up. Women bit hard on their bottom lips, studying the occupants of each carriage as they disembarked. They clung on to their children's hands, as they hoped today would bring good news for them. Alice carried on working at the buffet table. Her mind drifted to Robert's letter. It saddened her to realise he didn’t know about Charles and that fear kept him company in the trenches. She had always thought nothing ever got under his skin. A smile crept across her face; her mother had been beside herself with excitement, when Alice had arrived home from work. Robert was alive, and that was all that mattered.
‘Am I allowed some tea and cake?’
Alice didn't look up at the man who spoke to her. ‘No, these are for the returning soldiers.’ She carried on cutting the cake, trying to make the slices smaller, but without much success.
‘I am a returning soldier,’ the man whispered.
Alice lifted her eyes slightly, noting his grey trousers, before going back to slicing the cakes. ‘No, that can't be true, sir, you’re not in uniform. It’s a terrible thing to try to take food from this country's fighting heroes.’
The man gave a little chuckle. ‘I couldn't agree more.’
Alice squeezed the handle of the knife. A vein was pulsating in her forehead, as her colour rose. ‘Are you making fun of me, sir?’ Her lips thinned as she looked up. Her eyes widened and her colour disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Her hand loosened its grip on the knife, which thudded onto the table. She blinked rapidly as her jaw dropped open.
The man adjusted his hat. ‘Aren't you going to say something?’
Alice was struck dumb, as she stood rooted to the spot, staring up at him.
He smiled. ‘Well?’
‘You, you look taller,’ she whispered. ‘And you're not in uniform?’ Her fingers clung to the table edge, as everything began to spin around her.
‘That's right. Does that mean I can't have the tea and cake then?’
‘You didn't come on the train that brings the soldiers back and forth every day.’
Charles smiled at her. ‘No, and yet here I am.’
Alice dropped like a stone.
‘Alice, Alice, can you hear me?’ Charles leant over her crumpled body.
She fluttered her eyelashes and shook her head, trying to evade the overpowering smell of ammonia that was wafting under her nose. Alice opened her eyes, startled to see Charles' weather-beaten face staring back at her. She tried to pull herself upright.
‘Take your time, lovey. You fainted, so give yourself a minute.’ The old lady had a tight grip on the smelling salts as she looked across at Charles. ‘I take it you know Alice?’
Charles studied his sister, before looking at the grey-haired lady. ‘She's my sister.’
‘Aah, that explains everything. She has been looking for you for months.’ The old lady straightened her back. ‘Can I leave you to look after her?’
‘Of course.’ Charles frowned from one to the other.
‘Alice, we can manage without you today.’ She paused, before turning to Charles. ‘I expect you’ve a lot to talk about, so you might want to take her home.’
Charles nodded, before turning to Alice. ‘Can you stand, if I help you?’
Alice nodded.
Charles wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to her feet. ‘Hold on to me; I don't want you fainting again.’ He grinned at her. ‘I thought you might have recognised my voice.’
Alice slapped the arm that wasn't around her.
Charles let go of her and doubled over in agony.
‘Oh my God, what have I done?’ Alice lifted her hand to her mouth. ‘Are you all right? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.’
‘I have to go to the hospital to get it looked at. Something exploded around me and I think
something is lodged in my arm.’
Alice frowned and she ran her dry tongue over her lips. ‘What do you mean “something”? Perhaps we should take you straight there.’
‘Don't look so worried.’ Charles' shoulder nudged her. ‘I don't remember much about it, but I don't suppose a few more hours will make any difference.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Alice whispered. She shook her head, wondering if she could ask him about Freddie.
Charles lifted one eyebrow. ‘Do you think I should go away, and we should start again?’
Alice wrapped her arms around her younger brother. ‘No, definitely not. I’ve been searching for you since that awful telegram arrived, telling us you were missing.’
Charles held his sister tight. Their tears mingled on their cheeks.
Alice pulled back to look at Charles. She ran her hands roughly over her face. ‘I can't believe you are here; am I going to wake up and it will all have been a dream?’ There were so many questions running around her head, but she knew she had to be patient. ‘Everyone will be so happy to see you.’ She grinned. ‘I can't wait to see their reaction when you walk through the front door.’
Charles frowned. ‘Even Father?’
‘Even Father.’ Alice laughed. ‘He’s been writing letters, trying to track you down.’ Again her thoughts were filled with Freddie, but she told herself he’d eventually tell her, if he knew anything. She stared, wide-eyed at him, drinking him in, unable to believe he was standing next to her. ‘What made you come here?’
Charles laughed. ‘The train I was on came into Charing Cross Station, so I walked up to Foyles to find you, but some old chap told me you’d left for the day and would probably be here.’
Alice nodded as she looked around her. ‘I try to help out most days; it’s heart-rending.’
Charles stood in silence. He followed her line of vision, watching the faces alive with hope, as people searched the crowds for their loved ones, only to have that hope doused in cold water. ‘This war has a lot to answer for,’ he mumbled to himself, before taking a deep breath and forcing a smile to his lips. ‘Well, as you are able to go, let's get home.’
The Foyles Bookshop Girls Page 29