Wedding Bells for Woolworths

by Elaine Everest

  ‘A job? You’re going to leave Woolworths? How can you waste all that training? Why, you could have your own store one day and be like Betty Billington.’

  ‘I don’t think the tweed suits would be my style,’ he said seriously, making her laugh.

  ‘What kind of work would you do?’ she asked, looking to where he’d propped his walking stick against the table.

  ‘It was Mrs Billington’s idea. She wrote me a letter. I’ll show you later. She suggested that I stay with the Erith store and take an office-based job which would give me time to regain my strength and then, if I wished, I could resume my general training at a later date. She seems to think I’d not need any more store training and once I’d mastered the office side of store work, I could be offered an assistant manager’s position.’

  Freda felt her chest swell with pride. Well done Betty for thinking of her staff. Then a thought came to her. ‘Isn’t Sarah classed as a store manager?’ That would put the cat amongst the pigeons, if Anthony took her job away, and no doubt with Anthony being her lodger she’d end up being blamed. The mood Sarah was in lately, she would still find fault with Freda even if she were a saint.

  ‘I believe she is more assistant to the manageress, but I intend to ask, as I’d not wish to tread on anyone’s toes.’

  Freda flashed him a look of thanks. ‘I’m pleased your news means you are staying in Erith. Will you be looking for new accommodation? I only ask as I was thinking of turning this room into a bedroom and hiring it out on a permanent basis, if you’d be interested.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. I’ve heard the landlady is prone to tears, and I’d run out of handkerchiefs very quickly. But if I could help her smile again, I’d most certainly think seriously about staying here.’

  Freda held out her hand to shake his. ‘Then it’s a deal,’ she said.

  ‘Only if you tell me what the problem is with Alan’s workshop. I don’t mean that it burnt to the ground in the fire, but why you are so protective of him and the business. My gut tells me there is more.’

  Freda lowered her hand and did her best not to meet his gaze as she thought of what he wanted to know.

  ‘I’m not asking because I’m nosy, but because I want to help you. It looks as though I’ll be staying in Erith, and I’ll need somewhere to store my bikes and have them kept in tip-top condition. Alan could be the man to do that. That’s if he intends to start up again?’

  Freda’s eyes glowed with excitement. ‘We’d be so grateful if you really mean it?’ she said, before continuing with suggestions for his bikes.

  Anthony held his hand up to stop her excited chatter. ‘First I want to know everything. I can’t afford to have something happen to my bikes, or my friends. If there’s anything illegal going on, or if you are in danger, I want – no, I need to know right now.’

  ‘I’ll make some fresh cocoa,’ Freda said. ‘It’s going to be a while before you see your bed.’

  ‘Before you disappear into the kitchen, I have this for you – that’s if you’re interested?’

  Freda took a pale blue deckle-edged card from him and read the words carefully. ‘It’s an invitation to join the Thames Road Cycle Club for a dinner dance, to be held at the Electricity Showroom in Pier Road,’ she said, her eyes shining with excitement. ‘Are you inviting me to go as your partner?’

  ‘If you’d like to?’

  ‘I’d like that very much,’ she replied. Perhaps at last something good was happening in her life. She hurried to make their cocoa, wondering what she could wear to this very special dance – special because Anthony had invited her as his partner.

  ‘You’re back! It’s wonderful to see you. How is married life?’ Betty asked Maureen before clapping a hand across her mouth as her cheeks turned pink.

  The new Mrs Caselton roared with laughter. ‘You’re not the first to ask, and it is blooming marvellous, thank you very much. I must also thank you for allowing me to extend my time off. We couldn’t go away with everything that happened the night of the wedding reception; it wouldn’t have been fair to leave Alan and Sarah to all that mess. Besides, the pair of us wouldn’t have slept much wondering what was going on.’ She snorted as she realized what she had said. ‘Thank goodness I wasn’t some young bride on her first honeymoon, or what you’ve just asked me and what I’ve just said could have had other meanings. Dear me, it is good to be back,’ she said, wiping her eyes as she continued to laugh.

  Betty joined in with her laughter. ‘But you’re early. Are you that keen to leave your husband at home and come to work?’

  ‘He left an hour before me, as there will be a lot to catch up on. He’s off to a council meeting this evening. The honeymoon is well and truly over,’ she grinned.

  ‘Even so, you didn’t have to come in early,’ Betty said as Maureen slid a cup of coffee to her over the serving counter.

  ‘To be honest, I wanted a word with you before our Sarah comes in. Can you spare me five minutes, please?’

  Betty gave a quick look at the clock on the canteen wall. She’d arrived early herself to have a word with the supervisor of the cleaning staff, but it could wait. She had a good idea what Maureen wanted to discuss, and it was nothing to do with catering supplies or how many staff lunches were required. ‘By all means. Shall we sit down?’ she said, picking up her drink and walking to a nearby table.

  Maureen eased herself into the wooden seat. The old injury she’d sustained in the same attack that killed George’s first wife during enemy action on the New Cross Woolworths store still gave her trouble in cold and also warm weather. She could tell today would be a warm one. ‘It’s about Sarah and Alan. Something’s not right between them. What with you knowing her so well, I wondered if she’d said anything to you. When I popped round there last night with gifts for the children you could have cut the air between them with a knife, it was so tense. Oh, they pretended there was nothing wrong, but I wasn’t born yesterday.’

  ‘It must be the strain of the workshop fire,’ Betty said, not wishing to say anything that would have Maureen marching off to confront her family. ‘With so much uncertainty about the business’s future, Alan is bound not to be his usual happy self. Give them time; it will all blow over, and things will go back to normal.’

  ‘So you don’t think there is a problem in their marriage?’ Maureen said, picking up on Betty’s words.

  ‘I would be betraying a confidence if I were to say anything. I find myself in a difficult situation at the moment. I so want to help, but my hands are tied. I’m having problems understanding what is going on with my friends . . .’

  ‘I appreciate your loyalty, Betty, but if you can’t speak, can you at least nod your head if I ask you whether you believe what’s being said – about my son carrying on with Freda Smith?’

  Betty hated what she was about to do, but Maureen was as good a friend and loyal staff member as every one of the women involved. She couldn’t let any one of them down, or she’d be failing as a friend and their manager. She looked Maureen straight in the eye and nodded to confirm her suspicions. She’d thought long and hard since the day Freda had burst in on her conversation with Sarah. Something had to be going on for the girl to deny it so strongly. It wasn’t in Freda’s nature to act in such a fashion. There’s no smoke without fire, she thought to herself, using one of Ruby’s favourite sayings, but she hated herself for becoming involved.

  ‘Thank you. I know it took a lot for you to do that, but I’ll never tell Sarah and Alan I’ve spoken to you. I overheard something being said at the workshop not long before the fire, and I should have tackled the pair of them at the time. My God, I could knock their blooming heads together. I was going to have a word with Ruby about it all, but it’s not fair to burden an old lady with such news. I did wonder if she was suspicious, but nothing’s ever been said. It’s not a good thing to start married life by upsetting my mother-in-law,’ she smiled.

  ‘Ruby would no doubt dish out good advice, but I agree she sh
ould not be bothered at the moment. If, and I hope it never happens, the marriage fails, then it will be up to Alan and Sarah to inform their family and close friends. Until then, we can only be supportive and kind – and try not to take sides.’ However, she felt as though she had by confirming her thoughts with that nod of her head.

  Maureen digested Betty’s words. ‘I knew you’d understand. Thank you for sparing me some time. I just keep thinking about those poor little kiddies, if Alan and Sarah go their separate ways. It would break my heart, but Georgie and Buster . . . well . . .’ She sighed. ‘I’d best keep myself busy, it doesn’t do to brood too much.’

  ‘That’s the ticket,’ Betty said as she finished her coffee. ‘I can only imagine what you and George must be going through, as it affects both your children, but you must try and not let it affect your own marriage. Talk to George, don’t bottle it up, and promise me you will speak to me again if you need a shoulder to cry on. I know you have a telephone at your house, so if it is easier for you, please do telephone me at home and we can have a chat.’

  ‘Thank you; it has helped to unburden myself. I’d best get my skates on and start cooking before the hordes arrive,’ Maureen said, although Betty could see she was still pondering the problem.

  Back in her office, Betty opened her diary and made a few notes, crossing out two appointments. Picking up the telephone, she dialled the number of her husband’s business. ‘Douglas? Can you spare me an hour around midday? No, my dear, it can’t wait until this evening. I need you to reserve a table at the Oaks and arrange for David and Maisie to join us. Tell them it is important.’

  Freda and Effie entered the staff canteen together, having met on the staircase leading from the shop floor. Although she’d trusted her gut feeling and offered Effie the room, Freda still wanted to question the girl about her connection to Wheatley Terrace. If she didn’t, soon it would be too late and the whole thing could become the elephant in the room. The fact that Anthony also seemed to have recognized Effie made it seem all the more important to get to the bottom of things. Where better than over a cup of tea and a slice of something nice prepared by Maureen now she was back at work?

  ‘Hello, Maureen, how was Ramsgate?’ Freda asked as the older woman slid two cups across the counter.

  ‘Very nice, thank you,’ Maureen said without a smile. ‘Did you want something to eat with that?’

  ‘Yes please, I’ll have a cheese sandwich. What would you like, Effie? Oh, Maureen, I don’t think you’ve met Effie. She’s going to be renting a room from me. I’ll have a full house then,’ she grinned, as Effie nodded hello and asked for the same.

  Maureen turned to Effie and gave her a welcoming nod along with a smile.

  ‘I don’t think that one likes you much,’ Effie said as they sat down. ‘The way you spoke I thought you knew her.’

  ‘I do,’ Freda said glumly. Clearly Maureen must have spoken to Sarah and believed what had been said. ‘Perhaps she’s having an off day. I’d be the same if I was back to work after a lovely holiday. Now, tell me more about where you lived before you came to Erith,’ she said, trying hard not to feel hurt about the way Maureen had snubbed her. She prayed Alan would explain everything to his family soon.

  ‘There’s nothing much to tell you. I’ve been sleeping at my sister’s place in Belvedere, but it’s not been easy, as she doesn’t have the room and her husband and landlord have grumbled about an extra person staying. I rented at another place, but it didn’t work out.’

  ‘Oh, was that in Wheatley Terrace? I thought I saw you coming out of a house when I was walking down that street,’ Freda said casually.

  Effie gave her a puzzled stare. ‘You must have been mistaken. I’ve never been near that house,’ she said before tucking into her sandwich and lifting up a discarded newspaper. ‘Look, they’ve named the date for the Princess’s wedding. Isn’t it exciting?’

  Hmm, so that’s how it’s going to be, Freda thought to herself. It’s funny how I never mentioned which house, but she knew what I meant. ‘Yes, I’d love to go along and watch, wouldn’t you?’

  The girls chatted on until the bell rang to signal the end of the tea break. As they hurried along the long passageway to go back downstairs, Betty called out to Freda from the open door of her office. ‘Can you spare me a minute, Freda?’

  Freda straightened her overall and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

  ‘Take a seat, Freda,’ Betty said as she closed a ledger that lay in front of her. ‘I wanted to ask if you’d come to a decision about letting your spare room to our new staff member, Effie?’

  Freda felt herself relax. She’d expected Betty to ask about her relationship with Alan. Everyone seemed fixated on their friendship of late. ‘I’ve had a chat, and she came to see the room yesterday evening. She will be moving in on Sunday,’ she explained, deciding not to mention seeing Effie at Wheatley Terrace. Betty was at last being friendly, and she didn’t wish to antagonize her by saying the wrong thing.

  Betty made a note on a pad and put a large tick next to it. ‘There was something else . . .’

  Here it comes, Freda thought, feeling her stomach lurch.

  ‘I’m sending off a few words about Maureen and George’s wedding along with one of the splendid photographs taken by Sarah to the editor of The New Bond magazine. You’ll remember I did wish to enter you for the cover girl competition. Do you have a photograph at home we could use?’ she asked, making no mention of the fact that Sarah had destroyed the photograph she’d taken at the wedding.

  ‘I have a nice one taken with the Brownies, but it’s not really glamorous like the ones we see on the cover of the magazine. Does it matter that I’m in my Brown Owl uniform?’

  ‘No, that wouldn’t be right at all. I know they will arrange a professional photograph of the chosen staff member, but it would be a help if the one submitted was as, er . . . as nice as possible. Do you think you can arrange this?’

  ‘I could ask Sarah to take the photograph, if she still has George’s camera,’ Freda suggested, and was surprised by Betty’s startled expression.

  ‘No, that wouldn’t do at all.’

  Freda knew then that Betty had taken Sarah’s side over the misunderstanding. ‘Betty, as I’ve already told you, I have not had any romantic involvement with Alan. He is a friend, a very good friend – and that’s all. Sarah is putting one and one together and making ten.’

  Betty looked sad. ‘Look at this from where I’m sitting, and also from Sarah’s point of view. There is more wrong with their marriage than the workshop fire. If you know something, please tell me now, so we can inform Sarah and put an end to this sorry mess. You owe it to your friends not to keep things from them.’

  Freda felt as though she’d been pushed into a corner with no way of escaping without hurting someone. ‘I can’t, Betty. Believe me when I say I am not involved with Alan. But I promised I’d keep his secret, and as much as I admire and respect you, I will not break my word and tell any of our friends. I’ll do my best to have a photograph taken that is suitable for you to send to the staff magazine,’ she added as she stood up to leave the office. ‘Please don’t tell Sarah what I’ve just told you. As you say, it is their problem and I feel it is down to Alan to talk to his wife.’

  How Freda got through the morning, she never knew. Fortunately, the store was busy, and she stepped onto the crockery counter to help out as they had a staff member off sick. She pinned a smile to her face and chatted to the customers as if she didn’t have a care in the world, while inside she was weeping for the loss of the friends who no longer seemed to believe her – and for the secret she could not share with them. Skipping her lunch break in case she bumped into Sarah or Betty, and not wanting to go into the staff canteen because of Maureen being there, she worked on, looking forward to the bell that would announce end of trading for the day. She would be able to head to her own little house and close her front door on the world. At least there Anthony would
believe her. Roll on five thirty, she thought to herself.

  Betty hurried out of the store at dead on midday. She didn’t want to be late for her luncheon appointment. She appreciated that her husband, as well as Maisie and David Carlisle, were busy people. Asking them to leave their businesses halfway through the day was highly unusual.

  ‘There she is,’ Maisie said as she lit a cigarette. ‘We was about ter give up and go back ter work.’

  ‘We couldn’t do that, as I’ve already ordered lunch. Douglas ordered for you, Betty. Now, perhaps you would tell us what this is all about?’ David said as he kissed Betty on the cheek and pulled her chair out for her.

  ‘I’ve got a good idea,’ Maisie winked. ‘Would it have anything ter do with the mystery of the fire in the workshop – and with Alan and Freda?’

  Betty was shocked, even though she knew Maisie was joking. ‘A tad too close for comfort, my dear,’ she said as she refused a cigarette from her husband. ‘We seem to be the only ones in our little group of friends who are not involved in this horrid business.’

  Douglas looked confused. ‘Is this the business of the workshop or the friendship of Freda and Alan? Surely Mike and Gwyneth Jackson aren’t involved, and they are as much friends as we are?’

  ‘Darling, Mike is our local police sergeant. I’m afraid he is involved in an official capacity,’ Betty sighed. ‘I just wondered what you all thought of this business. Let’s put our heads together about the fire. I for one think it strange that it happened on the night many of the townsfolk knew the family would be together at the wedding reception.’

  ‘Surely Mike is already investigating this? I saw Alan in the pub the other night, and a sorry state he looked as well. He told me they will charge the chap who was caught starting the fire, but then he shrugged off my questions,’ David said. ‘He still seemed to be in shock about the whole episode.’