by Bettie Jane
“You don’t have to tell me, but you might feel better if you did,” Lucy said.
“The superintendent came by the school—that’s why I was later than usual today—and held an emergency meeting for all the teachers and staff at the school.”
She said nothing else for a few moments and when the door jangled announcing another visitor, Lucy stood, and whispered to Janey. “Take your time and gather your thoughts. I’ll be back.”
Mr. Jensen nodded a friendly hello at Janey and then smiled at Lucy. “I’d like some Lady Grey to take home to Mary. She’s been suffering headaches, the poor thing, and can’t get any sleep.”
Lucy started pulling tins of tea from the shelf behind the counter.
“Here’s the Lady Grey, but if I may recommend a few additional options that might help with her headache?”
“That would be most welcome, Ms. Brooks.”
“Oh, Mr. Jenson, I keep telling you to call me Lucy.”
“And I’ll comply the moment you begin to call me by my first name.”
“Very well, Thomas. I’d like to gather some herbs from my garden for you to take to Mary.”
He nodded and started to speak just as another man walked in to the shop, followed by another two.
“Well, it certainly got busy of all of a sudden, didn’t it?” Mr. Jenson—Thomas—asked. “I need to visit the bank before they close, so help these other folks and I’ll be back before you close at four.”
“Thank you Mr. Jenson, er, Thomas. I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
Lucy gave Janey an apologetic look before turning to help her newest patrons. Janey just smiled and turned her attention back to her tea.
“Welcome to Thyme for Tea,” Lucy said, not recognizing any of the three, who seemed to all be together. “Where are you visiting from?”
The gentleman who’d come in first removed his hat and tipped his head at Lucy. “Very fine establishment.” He looked around. “It’s quite large. I don’t suppose you have any rooms for rent where we could meet privately?”
“I do, in fact. Follow me.”
She led them to one of the rooms in the back of the shop that she used for small groups. Two of them were still occupied, one by the sisters from the abbey and the other by the Rotary club. Both doors were closed save for a tiny crack and Lucy knew that they would be awhile yet. She’d just refilled their tea pots with freshly warmed water before Janey had arrived.
“As you can see, these two rooms are occupied, but we have one more. It’s the smallest of the three, but you are welcome to use it. Would you like private tea service? The room is available for rent with or without service. Either way, you can have the room until we close, so about three more hours.”
He looked at the other men, all three of them outfitted in stark suits and none of the group smiling. One of them gave him an ever so subtle nod and the spokesman for the group faced her.
“Please bring us tea and if you have something warm to eat?”
“I have beef pot pie coming out of the oven in,” she looked at her watch and saw that it was 1:15, “about ten minutes.”
“That will do. Please bring everything at once and then we’d like to not be interrupted until you close.”
“Certainly, mister—?”
“Mr. Pennington.” He opened his wallet and handed her double the fee she’d asked for in cash.
“Oh, no, you misunderstood. It’s only—”
“The extra is for the food and for your, shall we say, discretion. We are here on government business.”
“Of course.” Lucy smiled and winked. “You were never here.” The mystery that shrouded Mr. Pennington and his obscure reference to government business—was he here about the war?—set Lucy’s heart beating in a once-familiar way. He was a handsome fellow, if a bit abrupt. If he was here about the war, of course he’d be abrupt.
He nodded, the absence of a return wink rather embarrassing, and she walked away feeling her face redden. She shook her head at her foolishness.
Once they were served and intentionally being ignored, Lucy returned to sit with Janey.
“I’m so sorry about that. The busiest I’ve been all day.”
“I’m so sorry Lucy. I should have offered to help. What was I thinking?”
Lucy shook her head. “Don’t be silly. You always help out and it’s time you get to rest your bones. And I’ll tell you what you were thinking. You were thinking that the gentleman I was speaking to—“
“The one with the green eyes?”
“Yes! He was a good-looking fellow. I’m afraid I forgot—only for a moment mind you—that I’d sworn off men. But the other thing you were thinking of was whatever the superintendent talked about in your emergency meeting. Spill your secrets, my friend. You know they are safe with me.”
“They said we should prepare for a large influx of evacuated children. In light of what's happened this morning in Poland and Britain and France’s likely response, the British government is planning a mass evacuation out of major cities on the southern and eastern border. I’m afraid for what is coming, Lucy. We might be hosting some of the children and…”
After she trailed off, Lucy waited, but Janey never finished what she’d started to say. It seemed a subject change was in order so Lucy touched Janey’s hand, bringing her back to the present moment.
“Janey, why don’t you drop by the Harrison’s and see if you can convince Lizbet to come out to the water with us. Hopefully those men, whoever they are, will be gone by then. Meet me back here at four?”
Janey nodded and stood. “Can I help clear the table?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, my friend. Now go.”
Janey rushed out of the tea shop obediently and Lucy went back to tidying her kitchen. Hopefully, between the two of them, they would find a way to help Lizbet—if she needed it in the first place.
3
It was a little more than an hour since Janey left, and the rain obediently stayed away and the sun shone brightly, leaving long autumn shadows in its wake. Lucy could hear the 2:30 train from Bristol pulling into the station. The afternoon was shaping up to be a perfect one and Lucy was hopeful they’d be able to get Lizbet to relax enough to open up to them. The sisters from the abbey and the gentleman from Rotary Club were gone and Lucy had tidied up their rooms. The strange men, whoever they were, still remained holed away in the third meeting room and Mr. Jensen hadn’t yet come back to retrieve Mary’s herbs.
That was just as well because she hadn’t had any time in the last hour to collect them from the greenhouse. She’d spent the bulk of the intervening time since Janey left to be sure her kitchen was ready for tomorrow’s business.
In a flurry, Janey came running in.
“You won’t believe it, Lucy.” She was out of breath and took a moment to catch it before she spoke again.
“Evacuees, the children are coming now. On the 2:30 train. I just saw the Mayor Higgins on my way back from the Harrison’s—boy, have I got things to tell you about that visit, but not yet—anyway, the mayor said that he just received a call and that the first thirty children are arriving right now.”
The whistle from the train blew as if to drive home the point.
“Right now? What in the world is our little town going to do with thirty children? Can the school even handle that many more?”
Janey shrugged. “The school will figure it out, but housing? That’s an entirely different story. Oh, I forgot the most important thing of all. The mayor, he’s coming here to see you about using Thyme for Tea as a gathering spot for the children and the townsfolk while the children wait to be paired with volunteer host families. I figured you would want to know right away.”
“Oh my. That is quite the news. I suppose I’ll help however I possibly can. Will you help me put out more pastries while I get water boiling? Oh, and let’s pull out the rest of the beef pot pie. Fortunately I made enough for two days. Those children are probably starving and I imagine t
hat finding homes for them will be quite the time-consuming project. There is another platter of lemon-thyme cake bites upstairs in my kitchen.”
Janey had barely returned from upstairs when the mayor’s assistant came in, panting and his face flushed.
“Ms. Brooks, I need to speak with you,” Mr. Albemarle said in a rush, skipping the pleasantries. His skinny face and pinched eyebrows confirmed the urgency his voice suggested.
Lucy poured him a cup of tea and offered him a cake bite while he gave her a quick briefing. She listened intently, though she’d already heard most of what he was telling her from Janey. Her mind raced with ideas to accommodate the children.
“Mr. Albemarle, of course I’m happy to assist in any way I can. Janey spoke with Mayor Higgins and has informed me that the children will be coming here to begin with. I have two empty private rooms where we can put any sick children or younger children and the older ones can each sit at a table out here. My third room is rented out.”
Mr. Albemarle looked around and nodded. “Very good. Will you stay open while we find placement for the children? The town is prepared to reimburse you for meals, if you have the means to offer service on such short notice.”
“Certainly. I’ve got ingredients and supplies to make more food for them as well. I’m sure they’ll be starving. No reimbursement necessary. It’s my pleasure to offer assistance where I can. They are all coming from Bristol, yes?”
He nodded. “Yes, thank you, Ms. Brooks.”
The next hour flew by while Janey and Lucy rearranged furniture in the main seating area, then prepared the smaller meeting rooms with pitchers of water and plates of pastries.
“Lucy, it’s a miracle that you’ve got so many extra baked goods around for the children.”
Lucy smiled. “I suppose it is, at that. If you must know, after I saw Lizbet and her wretched husband—is it unneighborly to call him wretched?—I tried to bake away my nerves. It mostly worked, actually. And for the benefit of everyone. Oh, speaking of the Harrison’s. I’m afraid we might not make it out to the estuary today with this newest development.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Lucy. I’ll call over and let Lizbet know.”
“While you do that, I’ll go upstairs and tidy up my spare bedroom.”
As Janey made her way to the telephone, she called over her shoulder. “Wonderful idea. Where do you suppose they are going to house thirty children? There aren’t many around these parts who can afford to keep extra children. Many of these families can hardly afford to feed the ones they’ve got.”
Lucy didn’t answer as she was already on the stairs going up to her living quarters, but she considered that Janey would be in a position to know the details of the families she worked with at the school. Lucy confirmed that the bed in her spare room was made and then wandered about her living space for a moment, wondering how many children she could house. Running the tea shop and caring for young children would be challenging, but she supposed she could always close up for a time, if necessary. She certainly didn’t need the money, but the community did actually need her tea shop. Over the many years she’d been here, she’d witnessed the shop become the focal point of the town. The townsfolk came here to celebrate, to warm up, to offer or seek comfort over a cup of tea. Closing the shop, especially at a time like this when an extra strain would exist on the town, was out of the question. Perhaps she could host an older child.
She made her way back down stairs to find an excited Janey.
“Lizbet is on her way over to help with all the children, and you will never believe it but she is coming alone because her husband cannot be bothered with orphans. His words. That man,” she said in disgust, “is a despicable human being. They aren’t orphans. They are children sent by concerned parents who would rather send their children to safety, albeit with strangers, rather than risk them becoming a fatality in the coming war. Even if he isn’t hurting our dear friend, I might just kill him myself, Lucy. I mean it.”
A gentleman cleared his throat. Lucy saw that Mr. Pennington was standing behind where Lucy and Janey spoke. His eyes looked amused, yet still somehow serious.
“Pardon me for interrupting, but could we please get another tea service?”
“Yes, of course, I’ll be right there. More of the same?”
“Yes.”
Lucy scurried off to help Mr. Pennington and when she returned, Lizbet had arrived and was helping Janey seat the children and the few adults—all pregnant women—at the tables as they trickled in from the train station. Several women Lucy recognized from the local congregations were assisting the mayor’s assistant, including some of the sisters from the abbey who’d left not that long ago.
The shop had a markedly different feel than it did when there were just a few adults around chatting about the best produce at the market or laughing about the rabid geese chasing people through the town square. That quiet hum of conversation was replaced by the cacophony of children’s voices, although there was a pall in the air compared to what thirty would sound like who hadn’t just said goodbye to their parents.
Lucy looked around at the children, noting their ages spanned from toddlers to eight-year-olds or so, plus a handful of pregnant women. They all looked weary, although some of the children had bright eyes as though they were having quite an adventure while others looked terrified and clung to the skirts or hands of older children. She wondered if the way their parents discussed what was happening had an affect on their perspective. She couldn’t imagine how frightened and confused these children must be. She shook her head and chided herself for dallying when there was clearly so much to be done.
“Lizbet,” Lucy said in greeting when the two women met eyes, “how kind of you to assist us today.”
“Oh my, yes, I’m happy to help. It looks as though you and Janey have it sorted, though. What else can I do to help you?”
Lucy looked around to see what needed to be done.
“You’ve done a wonderful job getting them all seated. Let’s bring food ‘round to everyone. I made more beef pot pie today than my customers could consume in a week so let’s make sure everyone gets a plate, why don’t we? And when they are finished with that, let’s bring everyone a good cup of tea and a lemon-thyme cake bite. Perhaps by then, the mayor will have it all sorted and everyone will have a place to go. Are you and your husband thinking of taking in any children?”
She couldn’t imagine that would be a good idea, given her suspicions about Mr. Harrison, but she knew how much Lizbet was desperate to have children of her own.
Lizbet paled at her question, and Lucy noticed she absentmindedly brought her hands together and began fidgeting nervously.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea. Mr. Harrison has been in a bit of mood.”
Lucy thought to say something that might coax Lizbet to open up to her about her marital problems but just then another woman came in, a very pregnant woman with dark curls midway down her back and big blue, kind eyes. In her hands, she carried small travel case and a gas mask, as had all the other evacuees. She wore a soft smile, but her eyes were weary. This was probably not how this woman imagined spending the last days of her pregnancy.
“My goodness, Lizbet,” Lucy said, nodding toward the newcomer, “this poor woman looks ready to give birth any minute. Excuse me for a moment, I’d like to help her get more comfortable.”
Lizbet nodded. “Janey and I will start serving these poor things some supper. You really are too kind to open your space like this and share your food with complete strangers.”
“As are you, here helping me help the strangers, who, by the grace of the gods could be us had the Germans looked a different direction.”
4
With that, Lucy walked toward the pregnant woman who was making her way toward the counter.
“Hello, dear one. Welcome to my tea house, Thyme for Tea. I’m Lucy.”
“Thank you for your hospitality. It is wonderful of you to offer us such a
warm welcome. My name is Sarah. Your tea house is lovely.”
“That’s kind of you to say. Won’t you come and have a seat and rest your weary bones?”
Sarah’s smile was warm but pained. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not sit. All that jostling on the train didn’t help my condition much. I’d like to move around. Is there something I could do to help you with the children?”
“I can’t imagine traveling in your state. If you’d rather be up and about, I’ll introduce you to Lizbet and Janey. They are serving up warm plates for everyone. But first, I insist that you have a bit to eat.”
She started to resist, but Lucy kept talking, leaving her no room to argue. “Think of your baby. I’m sure the little one is in need of nourishment and I’m sure you could use a little quiet. Come with me and I’ll show you a nice quiet place where you can eat your meal and then you can help us serve the rest. Is that agreeable, Sarah?”
She sighed and smiled at Lucy, clearly seeing what Lucy was about. “That would be wonderful, thank you.” Relief showed on her face.
Lucy led Sarah down the hall to the room the sisters from the abbey had been in earlier and told her to wait there. When she returned with a plate full of food and tea service, Sarah was asleep.
“Oh my, this won’t do. Sarah?”
Sarah sat up abruptly, blushing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to fall asleep. I’m just so…tired, I suppose.”
Lucy scooted the plate in front of her. “Eat this and drink up and when you are done, I’ve got just the place for you to rest. When do you expect your baby will arrive?”
“Oh, goodness,” she said in between bites, “not for another month and if she—I’m certain it’s a girl—decides to come earlier, I’ll give her an earful.”
She smiled around bites of food, shoveling it in as quickly as she could get the fork to her mouth. She made an apologetic face when she scraped the last bit of food off her plate. “I’m sorry, I think I left my manners in Bristol. My mother would never let me live this display down.”