‘You will be fine, Freda. The Fire Service would not have put you forward for the job if they didn’t have faith in your abilities. I’m rather envious.’
‘And I’m in awe of the way you run Woolworths, Betty. I just hope that when this war is over they don’t demote you.’
‘It may happen, Freda. After all, I stepped into the job so a man could go off to war to defend our country. Perhaps if my workload diminishes after the war, I’ll think about another profession. I quite like the idea of riding a motorbike for the Fire Service like you or perhaps becoming an actress in the films.’
‘I take it you are pulling my leg?’ Freda asked with some uncertainty. She’d never known Betty joke about anything.
‘It’s a long time until I retire from Woolworths, Freda, and then I’ll have more years spread in front of me with no family or job. Sometimes I wish I’d done more with my life,’ she sighed.
‘I’ve never heard you speak like this before, Betty. Does it have something to do with Douglas coming into your life?’
Betty, who had stood to collect the empty cups, stopped to answer Freda. ‘I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. Douglas’s appearance has made me think about the past and the hopes and dreams I held dear to me at that time. By rights I’d have been a wife and mother by now. I might even have been a grandmother. Yes, that does sound strange, doesn’t it?’ she said, noticing Freda’s smile. ‘That was my dream back in 1917 when Charlie died.’
‘You can always have new dreams,’ Freda said sadly. ‘My dream used to be to run my own market stall and live with my parents, but after Dad died everything changed. The only reason I came to Erith in the first place was to look for Lenny when he went missing. Luckily I settled into a new life with my job at Woolworths, along with all my new friends. Until the war started I imagined a future where I would live here in Erith and work at Woolies. I just never thought things would change.’
‘We are so alike, Freda.’
Freda nodded. ‘We have Woolworths to thank for that. Just like Sarah and Maisie. It seems so much longer than four years since we all met.’
Betty placed the cups and saucers in the kitchen sink. They could wait until the morning. ‘Tell me, Freda, do you like Douglas?’
Freda stopped to think for a moment. ‘I haven’t got to know him as well as you have, but he accounted for himself in a respectable manner the day we nabbed him in the shop and he doesn’t come across as a ne’er do well, so yes, I should think he is a gentleman and decent enough. What do you think?’
Betty headed to the bottom of the steep staircase. ‘I feel he is an admirable man and I hope to get to know him better.’
Freda smiled to herself as she turned out the light. Betty might just be about to have her life changed beyond recognition. She could think of nothing better to happen to her boss and friend, although she still felt Betty was a little old for such things.
‘Now, have you got everything you need?’ Ruby asked as she stuck her head round the spare room to see Gwyneth and Myfi placing their clothes into a large walnut chest of drawers. ‘My, that’s seen some clothing in it over the years. This was the first piece of decent furniture my old man and me bought after we married. We didn’t have much back then, not that I’ve got much now, but we scrimped and saved for that chest of drawers.’
Gwyneth ran her hand over the polished surface. ‘It is indeed a fine piece of furniture. I must say, it is very good of you to take us in, Mrs Caselton. I still don’t know what we did to offend Mrs Munro,’ Gwyneth said with a sad look on her face.
‘Don’t you be worrying about her, my love. The pair of you are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish. We can let the authorities know tomorrow and do all the bits and pieces then. Now, has the young lady everything she needs before she goes to bed?’
Gwyneth ran her hand over the child’s dark hair. ‘I’m thinking she has, Mrs Caselton. I’ll be tucking her up in her bed soon.’
‘When she’s settled come downstairs and join me in the front room. I’ll put the kettle on,’ Ruby said before nodding to the child. ‘Night night, sweetheart. Happy dreams.’
Gwyneth took the cup of tea from Ruby. ‘There’s nothing better, is there?’ she sighed as she took a sip of the hot liquid. It’s been a very long day.’
Ruby nodded as she watched the woman. She’d never seen such shiny dark hair and vivid bright eyes. She didn’t know any Welsh people but if they were all like Gwyneth, then they were a good-looking nation, she thought to herself. ‘How did you and your daughter come to be in Erith?’ she asked.
Gwyneth paused before replying. ‘It’s been a year now. We moved to Maidstone to be close to a family member, but after our rented cottage was damaged in an air raid we’ve moved from digs to digs. Thankfully, I managed to find temporary work but then we found ourselves homeless again. Once registered as homeless the officials found us digs with Mrs Munro. You know what happened then.’
‘You couldn’t go home to Wales or live with your relative in Maidstone?’
Gwyneth shook her head so violently that her beautiful hair flowed around her shoulders. ‘No, it’s not an option,’ she said firmly before picking up her tea and drinking with shaking hands.
Ruby observed the woman’s reaction and remained silent. Something was amiss and she’d bide her time before asking. She prided herself on being a good judge of character and Gwyneth seemed a decent sort. This war affected people in so many ways and if Gwyneth did have a problem, then who was she to judge? ‘Well, you’re safe here now and Erith is a pretty good place to live, though I do say so myself.’
‘Do you live here alone, Mrs Caselton?’ Gwyneth asked, having composed herself quickly.
‘Goodness, no. I’m a widow, but this house is like Clapham Junction at times with all the toing and froing going on. My son, George, used to stay here when he came up from Devon for his work at Vickers, but he’s moved to Crayford for the duration. George’s girl, Sarah, is living with her mother-in-law just down the road – her husband flies Spitfires – and another lodger, Maisie, has married and lives with her RAF husband a few streets away. Freda still lives here but is away tonight on duty at the fire station. I’m sure you’ll get on well with Freda.’ Ruby stopped short of explaining about her friends and then chuckled.
‘Whatever is so funny, Mrs Caselton?’ Gwyneth asked in her lilting Welsh accent.
Ruby wiped her eyes and smiled. ‘I just thought that if Vera was correct and you and the kiddie are spies, then I’ve just given away a hell of a lot of information. Goodness me, I’ll be locked up in the Tower of London,’ she chuckled.
Gwyneth laughed. ‘Be assured that we are not spies, Mrs Caselton, but then I would say the same if I was,’ she added with a smile.
‘I’d soon find you out, love, we don’t have any secrets in this house. Oh, and please call me Ruby.’
Gwyneth nodded but the smile had left her face.
‘You’ve made a marvellous job of the shop-window display,’ Betty declared as she stepped back into the store after checking the view from outside Woolworths.
‘It’s all thanks ter Freda really. It was ’er who mentioned she ’ad to learn about first aid and it got me thinking about how many people would want to know how to ’elp if there was a raid or an accident. Getting hold of those booklets and stuff was a good idea too.’
Freda shrugged her shoulders. ‘Maisie was the brave person who went over to see one of the managers at Hedley Mitchell to ask to borrow a mannequin for the display. I wouldn’t have dared do that. They are far too posh for me in that shop.’
Maisie laughed aloud. ‘They all have ter use the lavvie, just like us.’
‘Shh, Maisie, our customers may hear you,’ Betty said. Personally she agreed with the girls. Some of the department heads at Hedley Mitchell did appear superior, but the majority of their staff shopped in the store she managed. If Hedley Mitchell was the biggest shop in Erith, then Woolworths was the most popular for ordinary folk
, she liked to think.
‘The mannequin they found for us at the back of their storeroom was bashed about a bit and not likely to be used again. There are chunks of plaster missing on all the limbs and it’s bald,’ Freda said glumly.
‘All the better for us. We covered those parts with bandages. It looks healthier now than it did when we carried the thing over the road.’ Maisie grinned.
Betty smiled at Maisie. The woman looked a picture of health now after having looked quite down for the past weeks. Maisie had asked for a meeting, and Betty felt she had an inkling of what Maisie was going to say. She checked the time on the wall of the store. ‘I can spare a few minutes now to speak with you, Maisie. Let’s go up to my office. Freda, take your break now. I hear that Maureen has been baking rock cakes so you may be lucky and nab one before the rest of the staff eat them all.’
The three women took a final look at the window display, which was already attracting attention from passers-by. Satisfied they’d done their best, they headed to the door that led upstairs to the staff area. ‘Oh my goodness,’ Betty declared, ‘what a lovely surprise.’
Leaning against a wall by the door was a young soldier with striking red hair.
‘Ginger!’ Maisie screeched, giving the lad a big hug. ‘I’ve not seen yer since me wedding.’
‘I got home on leave yesterday and thought I’d look you all up,’ he grinned.
‘It’s a pleasure to see you, Ginger. Come upstairs and have a cup of tea. The morning break starts soon and I’m sure everyone will be pleased to see you. Freda’s going for her break – if you’ve forgotten your way, you can follow her. I’ll see you after I’ve had a few words with Maisie.’
‘I’ve not forgotten Woolworths, Miss Billington. In fact, it’s thinking about you all that’s kept me going at times.’
Freda glanced at Ginger as they headed up the staircase towards the staff area. She could see he’d grown up and wasn’t the young cheeky lad that she’d met on the day she arrived at Woolworths for her interview. There were a few lines around his eyes and his freckled face was thinner and paler than it had been when he’d been a trainee manager alongside Sarah’s husband, Alan. ‘You’re in luck: Maureen has rock cakes fresh from the oven. We don’t get as many treats these days as when you were here.’
‘Don’t tell me. There’s a war on.’ He grinned weakly as he stopped to look around the familiar room. ‘Nothing seems to have changed.’
‘Oh, but it has,’ Freda said. ‘Look at the cracks on the ceiling; we had a close call that day.’ Ginger gave Freda a sad smile and she blushed. ‘I’m sorry, you must think I’m a right ninny, what with you seeing action and all that. We’re all trying to do our bit here, you know. Sit down and I’ll get the tea.’
Tea took a little longer than usual as Maureen made such a fuss when she spotted Ginger. ‘We’re all going to the Erith Dance Studio on Saturday. You must join us. Alan will be there. It should be a good evening.’
Ginger looked at Freda. ‘Will you be going?’
‘I should be, unless I’m needed at the fire station.’ It would be her last weekend answering the telephone, as she would be a dispatch rider by the Monday, all being well.
Ginger smirked. ‘What’s a little thing like you doing putting out fires?’
Freda tried hard not to bristle at his comment and instead slid his tea in front of him and started to explain how she and her friends were all playing their part in fighting Hitler.
Betty hugged Maisie close. ‘I’m so pleased for you and David. It must have been hard for you after last Christmas. David must be so excited.’
Maisie extracted herself from Betty’s arms and sat down. ‘He’s not back until tomorrow so he doesn’t know.’
‘Oh my, you mean I’m the first to know? That seems rather a strange way to go about things, Maisie. David deserved to know first. After all, he is your husband.’
‘You’re not the first ter know. Sarah was with me when I went ter see the doctor. I need ter ask you something before I see David.’
Betty sat down opposite the pretty blonde woman. Even in wartime Maisie looked perfectly turned out. ‘Is there a problem, Maisie?’
Maisie shook her head. ‘No, but I’m handing in my notice. I need ter be careful and if that means not working until the baby is here, then I’m sorry.’ She raised her chin defiantly, expecting Betty to argue.
‘I’m so proud of you, Maisie. Putting your child’s well-being before anything shows you will be the perfect mother. I envy you.’
Maisie frowned. ‘So it’s all right that I’m giving up Woolies for now?’
‘Yes, of course it is. I won’t say it will be easy, but we will cope and I’m sure David will be relieved that you are cutting back for the sake of your child, and that is as it should be.’
Maisie was relieved that her boss understood her problem. ‘Thank you. I’ll still help out at the WVS and by doing a bit of sewing, so if there’s anything you need altering or making, just shout.’
‘It’s funny you should say that as I’ve been invited to go dancing on Saturday and I’m not sure if I have anything suitable to wear. Can you help me?’
‘Are you going to the dance at Erith Dance Studios?’
‘Why, yes, I am.’
‘I was going to ask yer to come along with us. What with Alan flying off God knows where and Freda most likely off on her motorbike, we thought it would be our last time fer a get-together.’
Betty had hoped to keep her friendship with Douglas a secret a little longer, but with most of her friends being at the dance she had no choice but to tell Maisie now. ‘I’ve been invited to the dance by Douglas Billington.’
Maisie raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
‘Please don’t read anything into this. It is simply his way of repaying me for inviting him to dinner the other day. He is a widow with young daughters. He is simply a friend,’ she explained.
And that’s why you’re blushing, Maisie thought to herself before beaming. ‘Then let me help you find something to wear. There’s no time to make something new, but I have an idea that will make Douglas have eyes only for you.’
Betty tried not to look excited at the thought of Douglas holding her in his arms as they danced. She had been worrying about her conservative wardrobe of clothes, but knew she could rely on Maisie to help her out. Saturday would be a day to remember.
9
Freda was late for the dance. The time on the Coronation Clock Tower in Bexleyheath showed it was almost six o’clock as she revved the engine and sped towards home. She desperately needed a bath to scrub the smell of oil from her body before stepping into her dance frock and preparing herself for a night of dancing. It had taken longer than she thought to collect the motorbike allocated to her and sign for the uniform of an Auxiliary Fire Service dispatch rider.
Turning onto the road that led through to Erith, she gasped in horror as an army lorry pulled out from a side road, giving her no choice but to swerve left towards a grassy field and allotments, where her bike bumped about on the uneven surface, throwing her onto a pile of compost. Before she knew it helpful hands were pulling her up from the warm mound. Feeling shaken and wondering how her bike had fared, it took a few minutes for her to realize the soldiers who had caused her to swerve were not British.
‘Here you go, ma’am, let me help you out of that mess.’
Freda could just see a hand reach out to her through the muck spread on her goggles. Once standing on her own two feet, she pulled off the goggles and glared at the soldiers. ‘Why ever were you driving like that? Not only were you going too fast, but you were on the wrong side of the road!’ she bellowed.
‘Whoa, ma’am, that’s no way to welcome servicemen who are here to help you win the war.’
Freda stood, hands on hips, trying to calm down. She was always polite, regardless of whether someone was in uniform or not. Her years working in Woolworths had taught her not to show her anger under any circumstance
s. But this time she could not hold back. ‘Rest assured we are grateful for you arriving here to join us in fighting the enemy, but it doesn’t help if you go around trying to kill locals and ruining our vehicles. Anyone would think you were on Hitler’s side, not ours!’
Four of the men stepped away from Freda, but she could see they were smiling and overheard one of them call her a ‘firecracker’. She tried hard to keep a straight face until she saw one of the men wheeling her beautiful new bike from where it had ended up under a bush. Her face crumpled. How could she ride it now and however would she get home?
‘There, there, honey, don’t get upset,’ said a serviceman who’d stayed by her side and didn’t seem worried by her anger. ‘We can help her, can’t we, guys?’
‘We sure can, Hank. It’ll take some doing but we can make it look as good as new in no time.’
Freda wiped her eyes with the cuff of her jacket and looked more closely at the bike. The handlebar was now crooked, as were the spokes of one wheel. There were scratches everywhere. ‘It’s new. I only collected the motorbike an hour ago. I’m on duty on Monday,’ she said with a shaky voice. ‘Can you really fix it?’
‘I promise it will look as good as new,’ the soldier called Hank said softly, looking into her eyes. ‘You can trust the American army.’
‘Th . . . thank you. I’ll get into awful trouble if not,’ Freda said as she gazed back at the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
‘Don’t give it another thought. Guys, get the machine on board and we’ll have the mechanics start work within the hour. It’s the least we can do after our bad driving. We don’t want our British friends thinking we’re roughnecks, do we?’ He turned back to Freda, after watching that the bike was loaded onto the back of the army lorry. ‘Now we need to deliver you safely home, ma’am.’ He took Freda by the arm and led her to the vehicle, gently helping her onto a front seat.
‘Thank you . . . Hank?’
He saluted her. ‘Sergeant Hank Marshall at your service, ma’am.’
Christmas at Woolworths Page 12