Christmas at Woolworths

by Elaine Everest

  20

  December 1942

  Freda waited patiently as Sarah placed a customer’s purchase in a brown paper bag and counted the change into her hand before thanking her for visiting Woolworths. ‘Has something happened?’ Sarah asked, seeing Freda’s agitated face.

  ‘Here’s a letter for you. It was delivered just as I was leaving the house. I thought you’d want to read it,’ she said, pulling an envelope from the pocket of her Woolworths uniform.

  Sarah’s face fell as she took the letter from her friend and tore it open. She gave an audible sigh of relief when she saw it was from Maisie. ‘I thought . . . Oh, you know what I thought!’

  ‘That it was from Alan? I’m sorry. I should have said it was from Maisie. I received one too. She’s not very happy,’ Freda said with a worried look on her face.

  After scanning the page Sarah nodded in agreement. ‘She’s terribly lonely and doesn’t fit in with the locals, and is petrified about the birth of her baby. She wants me to visit. Does she say the same to you?’

  ‘No, she’s given me some advice about men. Told me I did the right thing when I found out about Hank and if it had been her, she’d have blackened his eye as well,’ Freda grinned. ‘But seriously, I’d be frightened too after seeing what you went through.’

  ‘Oh, Freda, please believe me, when it is time for you to have your children you will soon forget everything apart from the wonderful new life you’ll hold in your arms.’

  Freda sighed. ‘I’m sure I will, but will Maisie? I feel she needs to be with David and her friends, don’t you? I wonder if Betty would allow us to take a couple of days off and visit Maisie before the baby arrives . . . I’ll ask her as soon the opportunity arises.’

  Sarah wasn’t so sure their boss would agree to them taking time off work. She served another customer and returned to where her friend was tidying a display of jigsaw puzzles at the end of the counter. ‘I don’t know if she can free us this close to Christmas. We are classed as senior staff and to have both of us take time off work together will leave a big hole in the staff work rota.’

  ‘It doesn’t hurt to ask,’ Freda said, although she realized that Sarah was right in what she said. ‘I thought it would be nice to be with Maisie so the three of us could celebrate my birthday together. With no news from Lenny in the past few weeks I feel as though everyone is deserting me.’

  ‘No news is good news, Freda,’ Sarah said sympathetically. ‘I don’t suppose a letter from a ship somewhere overseas is as easy to deliver as one we send to Maisie.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Freda said, ‘but it does feel pretty tame to be a year older and not celebrating the day. At least we can go to the pub and perhaps have fish and chips for supper. I’ll settle for that. All the same, I’ll speak to Gwyneth to see if she will cover a couple of our shifts and then Betty can’t really say no, can she?’

  Sarah nodded thoughtfully as she watched her friend pick up a box of books and head to the other end of the counter to continue laying out stock. Freda deserved a special treat for her birthday and an idea had just come into her head. She would have to get her skates on if her plan was to work, as the young woman’s birthday was in three days’ time. If only Alan was here to help. She’d have to ask Maisie’s husband, David, he would know what to do.

  ‘Are you ready, my love?’ Douglas asked as he tucked Betty’s arm through his, before inserting a key into the lock of an impressive double-fronted Victorian house just off the main thoroughfare that ran through Bexleyheath. Betty had visited the house on numerous occasions and had grown to love the home that Douglas had purchased after moving to the area with two young daughters upon the death of his wife.

  ‘I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,’ Betty said with trepidation as she stepped over the threshold into the high-ceilinged hall. Even on a cold December day the house was warm and inviting. Douglas took her coat and placed it on one of the hooks on an ornate hallstand.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to go in first and inform the girls?’

  Betty laughed quietly and took his hand in hers. ‘Douglas, my dear, I love Clemmie and Dorothy to distraction and I don’t believe for one minute that they hate me, so why should this visit be any different to when I’ve come to see them in the past? Now, give me that bag as I have presents to hand out.’

  Douglas’s mouth twitched as he handed a large shopping bag to Betty. ‘Presents will do it every time. I’m afraid my two daughters are more than a little spoilt.’

  ‘No one would blame you, Douglas. It must be hard for two young girls growing up without their mother,’ she said before opening the door to the front room and entering to greet his daughters. ‘Clemmie, Dorothy,’ she said with delight as the two girls rushed to greet her with hugs and kisses. ‘Whatever have I done to deserve such a welcome?’

  Dorothy, the younger by four years, eyed the bag that Betty had placed on the floor beside her. ‘Daddy said you were coming for something special. We decided it must be Christmas presents as our tree desperately needs presents to go underneath it,’ she said persuasively, glancing to where a tall tree sat in a tub in the large bay window waiting to be dressed.

  ‘My goodness, it is certainly magnificent,’ Betty said, going to admire the tree and breathe in the aroma of fresh pine needles. ‘I do believe it is larger than the one we have in the window at Woolworths.’

  ‘Do you own Woolworths?’ Dorothy asked in awe, still not taking her eyes off Betty’s bag.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Dorothy, Betty just works in one of the shops. Don’t you?’

  Betty nodded. If she was unsure of either of Douglas’s daughters, it was eleven-year-old Clemmie, who could be extremely blunt in her speech and not as open as her younger sister.

  ‘Yes, that is right, I manage the Erith store. That means I’m in charge,’ she said to Dorothy, who looked puzzled.

  ‘Our mother owned hundreds of shops,’ Clemmie said proudly, looking to a portrait that hung over the fireplace. She had the look of her mother with her thin face, green eyes and turned-up fine nose. Clemmie had inherited more than her mother Clementine’s name.

  ‘Now that’s not strictly true, darling, and you know it. Our Clemmie tends to exaggerate at times,’ Douglas said as he ruffled the girl’s fair hair. ‘Clementine’s family owned a chain of haberdashers that was patronized by the late queen. It was her grandfather’s business and a long time ago, as Clemmie knows only too well. I fear she likes to dine out on that story.’

  Dorothy sidled up to where Betty had sat down and leant on her lap. ‘I’d rather tell my friends that I know a lady who is in charge of Woolworths,’ she said proudly.

  Betty laughed and thought that she’d at least won over one of Douglas’s adorable daughters.

  There was a polite tap on the door before an elderly lady walked in. ‘I’ll be off now, if that’s all right with you, Mr Billington? The dinner’s in the oven and everything is tidy and tickety-boo.’

  Betty smiled to herself. She recognized the saying as one that Alan Gilbert often used. For a moment she wondered if he was safe and gave a silent prayer that her circle of friends would make it through the war. She never wanted anyone to go through what she had when she lost her Charlie in the last war. There again, she now had Douglas thanks to the men’s friendship.

  ‘Thank you, Cissie, I’ll walk you to your door. It looks as though we have another fog coming in and we don’t want you losing your way,’ Douglas said. ‘I’ll not be long, then we have something to tell you both,’ he said, smiling at his daughters and giving Betty a tender look.

  ‘No, I’ll be fine. You stay in the warm with your family. I’m only a few streets away.’

  Douglas protested and ushered the woman to where she’d left her coat.

  ‘We have a pie for our dinner. Cissie made it specially for tonight,’ Dorothy said.

  ‘It’s probably full of dead bodies,’ Clemmie said spitefully. ‘Did you know Daddy works with dead people?’


  Dorothy looked fearfully at her sister. ‘It’s not true, is it?’ she pleaded.

  Betty was annoyed that the elder girl was both upsetting her sister and trying to provoke a response from her. ‘My goodness, nothing could be further from the truth. Your daddy has a responsible job where he looks after the families of people who have gone to heaven. He helps them say goodbye in a fitting manner. There’s nothing to be afraid of,’ she said, putting an arm around the younger daughter, who looked to be on the verge of tears. ‘As for Cissie’s pie, I am led to believe it is full of chicken and vegetables and I for one am looking forward to a big slice,’ she smiled to the little girl.

  Dorothy thought for a while then asked, ‘Are you going to be our mummy?’

  Before Betty could utter one word Clemmie stamped her foot in annoyance and pointed at the portrait. ‘How can she be? We have a mummy and we don’t need another.’

  Betty froze. She had no idea that Clemmie felt this way. The news that she and Douglas would impart this evening would not go down well with one of the girls.

  As she thought carefully of how she would reply, the quiet wail of an air-raid siren broke through the silence in the front room. As the sound grew louder and louder Betty could hear other sirens join in and a cold chill ran up her spine. She was responsible for these two young girls until Douglas returned, but silently thanked the enemy for getting her out of having to answer his daughter’s question. She preferred to wait until he was by her side. ‘Come along, girls, you must show me to your shelter and tell me what needs to be done.’ She ignored Clemmie’s sulking face and headed to the kitchen, first picking up the bag she’d brought with her. She turned off the gas, wondering if the pie would spoil, then took a torch that was hanging on a hook on the back door. ‘Hurry up and put your coats on, girls!’

  ‘It’s over here,’ Dorothy said, directing the torch to the entrance of the Anderson shelter as beams of light pierced the night sky, searching for the enemy bombers as they approached from the Kent coast. In the distance could be heard the sound of ack-ack guns and Betty knew the planes were getting closer.

  ‘Those big searchlights are up on Dartford Heath,’ Clemmie said, slipping her hand into Betty’s as they went down the steps into the underground shelter. ‘Daddy took us to see them. They’re very large.’

  ‘They are,’ Betty agreed, ‘and there are many of them dotted around the area. They are there to make sure we are kept safe,’ she added, reassuring the two young children.

  Clemmie showed Betty where a tin of candles was kept as well as matches wrapped in a piece of oilcloth to keep them dry. Both the children had carried a blanket apiece, which they wrapped around themselves as they settled on a bench, while Betty lit a small lamp that gave off a little warmth within minutes.

  ‘Now, what shall we do to keep ourselves busy?’ she asked.

  ‘We could look in your bag to see what you brought for us,’ Dorothy suggested cheekily.

  Betty laughed and delved into the bag, giving both the girls a brown-paper parcel. ‘You can have these now and perhaps open the other ones later.’

  Both girls tore the wrapping from their gifts.

  ‘Books!’ they both exclaimed.

  ‘These were the books I read when I was a little girl,’ Betty said. ‘I hope you will enjoy them as much as I did. I know they are going to a good home.’

  ‘These were yours?’ Clemmie asked shyly as she ran her fingers over the cover of Little Women. ‘We’ve never been given books as presents before.’

  ‘Mine is The Tale of . . . P . . . Can you help me?’ Dorothy asked.

  ‘The Tale of Peter Rabbit. This was my first book and one I adore as the paintings of the little rabbit family are so sweet.’

  ‘I’m not very good at reading,’ Dorothy said, ‘but I do like pictures. Will you help me to read it, please?’

  Betty frowned. The child was old enough to be able to read simple words. She’d make a point of helping her. ‘Of course I will, but perhaps when we have better lighting so you can follow the pictures of Peter and the other bunnies. Shall we start with Little Women?’

  The girls agreed and snuggled next to Betty as she began to read. ‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents . . .’

  Soon they were engrossed in the story and they all jumped as the door to the shelter was pulled open. ‘Well, well, well, what do we have here?’ Douglas asked as he joined them.

  ‘Betty is reading us a story,’ Dorothy explained. ‘These were her books and she’s given them to us. I have one about a rabbit called Peter and Clemmie’s is about sisters . . . just like us. It’s very sad as they don’t have any Christmas presents and their daddy is away at war.’

  Douglas joined them on the bench, leaning his arm along the back of the wooden seat. ‘Can I listen for a while? The planes have gone over so I would think the all-clear will sound soon. But we can listen to some more of the story.’

  Betty continued reading aloud by the light of the hurricane lamp. Douglas’s finger stroked her neck as his daughters listened enraptured by the story of another family living in another war across the other side of the world.

  ‘This is nice,’ Clemmie said as she kissed Betty’s cheek. ‘Thank you and I’m sorry I was rude to you earlier.’

  Betty felt a lump form in her throat. Everything she had ever dreamt of was here in this Anderson shelter. She was truly a fortunate woman.

  Sarah replaced the receiver of the telephone and gave a sigh of relief. Betty had given her a few minutes to make her telephone call after Sarah explained how she’d like to arrange a birthday surprise for Freda and had left her alone to give her privacy.

  Not finding David Carlisle at home the night before, she wasn’t sure what to do until she remembered she had his office telephone number in case someone at number thirteen needed him in an emergency. The emergency being his wife, Maisie, and the imminent birth of their child. David had never explained his RAF job to his friends and they all knew that in wartime it was important not to pry. Sarah knew he was often in London and hoped that he would be able to help her with her plan. True to form, David promised to drop by later that evening and let her know if he had succeeded with her request.

  Now for her next problem . . . She hoped Betty would understand.

  There was a discreet knock before Betty stuck her head around the door. ‘Oh good, you are still here. I do need to have an urgent word with you.’

  ‘I need a word with you as well,’ Sarah said as she sat down in the chair that Betty indicated, ‘that’s if you can spare the time?’

  ‘I’m sure I can. Now, I’m not going to be here for a few days and I need you and the other supervisors to cover for me. I know you can do my office work with your hands tied behind your back, but I would like you to sort out the work rota and give extra hours to the part-time staff. That would mean you as well. I wouldn’t usually take time off so close to Christmas but this is important. Are you up to it?’

  Sarah sighed inwardly as Betty told her the dates. That was when they’d promised to visit Maisie. There was no way that she and Freda could ask for time off now. ‘Yes, Betty, you can rely on me and I would think that the girls would be grateful of the extra hours before Christmas. Thank goodness we held the old servicemen’s party earlier this year.’ She spent half an hour going over work details before rising to her feet to return to the shop floor.

  ‘Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?’ Betty asked.

  ‘Oh, erm . . . yes,’ Sarah mumbled, thinking hard for something to say. She couldn’t say how they’d wanted to visit Maisie. Not after Betty had said she was taking time off work – which did sound strange for someone who hardly ever spent time away from Woolworths. ‘Nan said to invite you and Douglas to spend Christmas Day with us, and Maureen is hoping to be back in her house and we will all be going to her in the evening for a party. You will come, won’t you?’

  ‘I’d be delighted and I’m positive that Douglas will
agree. However, there is a small problem. We will have his daughters with us. Would it be too much of an imposition to bring them along? We won’t come empty-handed.’

  ‘Of course, the more the merrier, you know that. I’ll let Nan know.’

  ‘What about Alan, will he be home for Christmas?’

  ‘I don’t think so. He did say he’d try, but there’s no knowing with this war so I’ll settle for a letter this year. Who knows, the war may be over by next Christmas.’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ Betty said with a beaming smile. ‘At least we can enjoy this year without too many worries. In fact, we have much to be grateful for.’

  Sarah left the office wondering what was making her boss so happy.

  ‘What are you three plotting? You’re up to something with your heads together whispering like that,’ Ruby said as she caught Bob, Mike and her son, George, out in her back garden. ‘Why, it’s blooming cold out here. Come inside and chat, why don’t you?’ she said, trying to shoo them indoors.

  ‘Mum, we’re just trying to arrange about decorating Maureen’s house,’ George replied. ‘We’ve only got a week before Christmas and there are two rooms to paper and three that need painting. We have the wallpaper and enough paint, thanks to Misson’s ironmongers seeing us right. It’s just the manpower we need now and to not let Maureen know what we are up to.’