Mrs Boots: A heartwarming, page-turner inspired by the true story of Florence Boot, the woman behind Boots (Mrs Boots, Book 1)

by Deborah Carr

  It was true, and Amy’s words made her feel better about her day out. She glanced up at the shop clock and saw that it was a quarter to ten. Excitement rose inside her and she indicated the time to Amy.

  ‘Father’s still busy and I don’t want to disturb him. Do you mind if I run upstairs to freshen up and collect my hat and bag?’

  ‘No, silly. You go. I’ll explain if he asks where you are.’

  She smiled at her thoughtful sister and hurried upstairs, hoping not to be confronted by her mother again. She knew that, despite accepting their father’s decision, her mother would not be pleased to have been overruled on something that she clearly had a strong opinion about.

  Florence freshened up, checked her hair was still immaculate after pinning on her hat, and grabbed her small bag. She loved that her bag hung from her wrist. She didn’t have to keep putting it down when she sat and remembering to pick it up again whenever she stood.

  She left her room, closing the door to find her mother standing at the living room door, arms folded across her chest.

  ‘You’re going then, I see,’ her mother said, pursing her lips.

  ‘Yes,’ Florence answered, hating the discord between them. ‘I do wish you wouldn’t mind so much, Mother.’

  ‘As do I, Florence. However, I am your mother and I see things differently to your father, that much is obvious. A mother has different instincts towards her children. I sometimes wonder if fathers have any at all.’

  ‘I’m sure they do,’ Florence said, stepping forward to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. ‘I won’t be late.’

  ‘Good,’ her mother said, her voice slightly softened, Florence was pleased to note.

  Florence ran downstairs feeling much happier now that her mother was less angry with her.

  Amy was waiting for her by the back door to the shop at the bottom of their stairs. ‘Mr Boot has arrived,’ she whispered. ‘He has a carriage waiting for you both and is speaking to Father.’

  Florence’s heart raced. She took a deep breath and strode into the shop with as much confidence as she could muster.

  Jesse stopped speaking to her father and both men looked over at her. Jesse smiled.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Rowe. It looks like we have another fine day for our outing. I feel very spoilt by all this sunshine.’

  ‘Good morning, Mr Boot.’ She glanced out of the storefront window, already aware that the weather was perfect for them again today. ‘It does look splendid, doesn’t it?’

  ‘I have a carriage waiting for us outside,’ he said. ‘I know you wished to book tickets to go on a charabanc to the north coast, but when the concierge of the hotel tried to find some available seats, he found that several large parties had already booked them.’

  ‘We don’t have to go to the north coast, if you’d rather go elsewhere.’

  ‘He did suggest us taking a carriage instead, if you didn’t mind. We can still follow the charabancs and join in any fun.’

  She didn’t mind at all. If they were the only ones in their open-topped carriage, then their conversation would not be interrupted.

  ‘You’ll probably have more comfortable seats, if I’m not mistaken,’ her father said. ‘Let me see you out before the next customer comes by.’

  Her father held her hand as she alighted the carriage and waited for Jesse to climb in and make himself comfortable on the seat beside her.

  ‘Have a splendid day,’ he said, smiling at an inquisitive customer who’d stopped to watch them at the shop door. ‘I look forward to hearing all about it later. Mrs Du Val, please, let me open the door for you.’ Her father gave them a brief wave before following his customer inside Rowe’s.

  ‘Drive on,’ Jesse said. ‘We are to go north and then to Rozel.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The driver picked up his reins and made a clicking noise.

  Florence spotted Lily in a shop doorway and gave her a smile. She couldn’t help noticing that the young girl appeared to be a little better than the last time she had seen her. Could it be because her usually pale face had been slightly bronzed by the sun, or was her home situation any better? If Lily’s tatty dress was anything to go by, nothing much had changed in her personal situation. She wished she could visit her at home to check up on her but, recalling the drunken behaviour of the girl’s loutish father, knew that to do so would possibly only make matters worse. Florence didn’t want Lily to be punished for bringing an outsider to her family’s door.

  She turned back to Jesse. ‘This is a lovely idea,’ she said, hoping to have a chance to speak to Lily soon. She would like to enquire how the girl really was and if there was something Florence could to do help make her life easier in some way.

  The carriage reached Don Road and the horse broke into a trot. She was relieved that their journey was underway, aware that part of that relief had something to do with her concern that her mother might put a stop to their outing at the last minute.

  ‘I have been looking forward to our outing today,’ he said.

  ‘So have I,’ Florence agreed, relaxing for the first time since she had seen him.

  The rhythmic sound of the horse’s hooves as it trotted along La Grande Route de St Jean was soothing. Florence felt like she, too, was on holiday. The breeze was cooler the further they went from the town. It was a relief. Despite wearing her best summer dress with its cooler thinner fabrics, it was still a little warm for St Helier.

  She pointed out the imposing Methodist chapel at Sion. ‘I believe this is almost the centre of the island.’

  ‘Have you ever been inside?’ Jesse asked, as the driver slowed to let them study the vast gothic building.

  ‘No, not that one.’

  ‘Would you like to now?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’d rather continue to the north coast. I can’t wait to show you how beautiful it is.’

  He told the driver to drive on and after a little while they reached the north coast and turned right.

  ‘The view along here is very different to the one on the south coast,’ Jesse said a few moments later. ‘More dramatic, but no less majestic.’

  Florence agreed. It was a while since she had come this way and again, like her other outings with Jesse, it was a joy to see, from someone else’s eyes, the sights of the channel and these almost vertical cliffs down to the navy sea.

  ‘It’s much cooler too,’ she said, thinking how hot he must have been today in the heat. Here in Trinity and being in the open countryside was far more comfortable.

  Florence spotted two charabancs ahead. ‘We must be going faster than they are to have caught up with them already,’ she said, slightly disappointed to now have company.

  ‘They look as if they’re having a lot of fun.’ Jesse smiled as they neared and the sound of the laughter coming from the two groups increased. ‘It makes me happy to see people enjoying themselves. There are so many complications in all our lives that to have days when you are taken away from them must be good for the soul.’

  Florence couldn’t help agreeing with him. She wished Lily could have a day out like this too, but doubted very much that even if her family did have the spare money to pay for an outing that she wouldn’t be allowed to go on one. The thought occurred to her that if she ever had any spare funds, she would find a way to arrange days out for people who usually spent their days working long hours.

  ‘I think days such as these remind us that there is more to this world than our small lives and the problems that we focus on each day.’

  He turned to her. For the first time she saw what she suspected was love in his eyes. She hoped, very much, that it was. It dawned on her that her feelings for Jesse had evolved into a deep love for him, too.

  Chapter 13

  Florence waved back at the children as the charabancs and carriages reached the first cottages just before Rozel harbour. Their tanned, rosy-cheeked faces beamed up at them, and she wished she had thought to bring some sweets to hand to them.

  �
�Seeing these children makes me wish that all youngsters and older people might have the luck to live in such a pretty place where the sea air fills their lungs and where they are surrounded by beauty,’ Jesse said wistfully.

  ‘There must be pretty fishing villages on the coasts in England?’ Florence asked, trying to picture them.

  ‘There are, but it’s the people living in the cities where the pollution is high that I’m mostly thinking of.’

  She felt a little silly, having misunderstood his comment. ‘Yes, of course. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to arrange outings for many people to be able to enjoy a peaceful, healthy place such as this?’

  ‘It would, Florence. It really would.’

  The people in the charabancs ahead of them climbed down off their carriages as soon as the driver stopped at the end of a narrow road leading to the harbour. Their driver halted his horse behind them.

  ‘I presume this is the end of the line?’

  ‘This is Rozel Bay,’ Florence told him as he stepped down and held out his hand for her to take. She placed one foot on the metal step and then another onto the road. She breathed in deeply. ‘I do love being by the sea.’

  He smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

  ‘What?’ she said, as they began walking towards down the road.

  ‘Sorry,’ he replied, unable to help laughing slightly. ‘It’s just that you live on a small island that’s surrounded by the sea. Don’t you always feel that you are breathing in the sea air?’

  She thought about his question for a moment. Did she? ‘Actually no, I don’t,’ she said, as they passed tiny granite cottages. ‘I suppose that does sound a little strange. When I’m in the countryside I forget how close to the sea we are and when I’m in town, I presume it feels like being in any town. I don’t think that I’m only a ten- to fifteen-minute stroll to the seaside.’

  ‘Good morning,’ a man coming out of one of the houses said to them. ‘If you wish for refreshments, there’s the Rozel Bay Hotel, but it’s going back the way you came, turn left and at the corner at the end of the road it’s on the right. You’ll be well cared for in there.’ He indicated the opposite direction that they were going.

  Jesse thanked him. ‘I’m sure we will take time to do as you suggest,’ he said. ‘Once we’ve had a walk along the harbour.’

  They walked on. ‘Do you think he might work there and is looking for business?’ Florence asked quietly when she was sure they were out of ear shot.

  ‘Very possibly. Mind you, I will be happy to sit in the cool and have a bite to eat and something to drink,’ Jesse said. ‘I suppose we are close to lunchtime, or will be after our walk.’

  They reached the sea wall and stopped. ‘Look at the way the sunshine glistens on the gently rolling waves,’ Jesse said, indicating the small bay with the small curved harbour wall to their left, with the rising hills either side. ‘This must be a very sheltered place for the fishermen to moor their boats.’

  ‘I believe so,’ Florence said. ‘This is one of my favourite places.’ She noticed amusement in his face again. ‘What have I said now?’ she asked, giggling.

  ‘You have a few favourite places.’ He held up his hand. ‘I’m not trying to be insulting in any way,’ he said anxiously. ‘You have every right to love this beautiful island. It’s peaceful and has such an individual way about it. I know most of the locals speak English, but it has a very French way about it. I’ve noticed the French road names and have heard many French accents in St Helier when walking through the streets. There’s another language I keep hearing, but I can’t work out what it is.’

  ‘It’s probably Jèrriais,’ she said. ‘The local patois. Some people refer to it as Jersey French, or Jersey Norman French.’

  ‘Your parents speak it, do they?’

  She shook her head. ‘My mother was born in Cumberland and doesn’t speak it. I speak French, as do my sisters, because we were sent to school in a convent in Normandy. My mother wasn’t happy that we were sent there, but my father thought it important that we were fluent with our French neighbours.’

  ‘I wish I spoke a second language,’ Jesse said thoughtfully. ‘Though I haven’t really had call to do so living in Nottingham.’

  Shrieks and laughter came from below them on the sand by the water’s edge where some of the other visitors were paddling.

  ‘I like to see people enjoying themselves,’ he said. ‘Life is far too short not to take time to do something different if you possibly can.’

  ‘Is that something new you’ve discovered?’ she teased, feeling comfortable enough with him to believe that he wouldn’t take any offence.

  He nodded. ‘It is. In fact, it’s another thing that I’ve learnt during my time spent with you, Miss Florence Rowe.’

  She loved the way he said her name. It sent shivers down her spine. Florence didn’t like to dare hope too much, but she couldn’t help thinking that he might be building up to wanting to ask her father for her hand. Was that too fantastic to imagine? She was surprised to realise that she hoped it wasn’t.

  When had she changed from the girl determined to remain a spinster and forge an independent life for herself, to this woman who wanted to spend the rest of her life by a man’s side? Was the change in her plans due to Jesse treating her so much like an equal, rather than as a gentlewoman who should be seen and very much not heard giving an opinion? Or, could it be because he enjoyed conversations with her about business and encouraged her to share thoughts and dreams for the ambitions she might have in her future? He certainly was unlike any other man she had met before. Maybe that was the reason for her complete change of heart. Jesse was special and unique and she suspected that a life with him would be filled with excitement, adventure and many challenges.

  She noticed that he was waiting for her to say something.

  ‘Sorry, I was miles away,’ she fibbed. ‘It’s so pretty here, I can’t help wishing I had a little cottage somewhere, overlooking the bay, so I could sit and watch the sea on days like these when it’s a rich navy and in stormy weather when it’s a vibrant jade.’

  ‘I like the sound of that,’ he said, his voice soft. ‘That would indeed be something to aspire to. A house by the sea. Perfect.’

  She noticed a shot of pain pass his features. She didn’t want to remark on it but had an idea. ‘Shall we take a breather on that low wall over there?’ she suggested. ‘It’s in the shade of that house and would be the perfect place to sit and take in all this beauty.’

  ‘If you wish,’ he said, walking with her to take a seat. He sighed contentedly. ‘You are right; this is a good place to enjoy the scenery around us.’ He paused. ‘Florence, there is something I feel I need to address.’

  She didn’t like the way he spoke and could tell by his tone that it was something she probably wasn’t going to like.

  ‘I’m older than you.’

  He took a breath to add something further, but not wishing to hear anything negative, Florence quickly said, ‘Yes, I know that and it’s fine.’

  He turned to face her fully. ‘Florence, if it was just that I wouldn’t mind either. However, I have rheumatoid arthritis.’ He held his hand up to stop her when she went to interrupt. ‘No, we need to have this conversation. I’m in pain some of the time and as I age it will only increase and my ability will lessen. I need you to understand this.’

  ‘I do,’ she said, wishing he would stop this conversation. She loved him and surely all that mattered was that she was with him.

  ‘Really, understand though. I don’t want you to be with me because you feel sorry for me.’

  She couldn’t imagine ever feeling such a way towards this strong, determined man, and said so.

  ‘Or, that you are with me for any reason other than you wish to spend your life with me.’

  She realised that she needed to reassure him rather than argue with his comments. ‘Jesse,’ she said quietly, ‘I have never met anyone like you before. You i
ntrigue me, you think like me and I love being with you. I don’t care about your age and, as far as your arthritis is concerned, we will find a way to help you. There are always improvements in medicines, you know that better than most people. Who knows what the next year or two will bring in that area? You might be worried for no reason.’

  He stared at her briefly before smiling, his eyes shining suspiciously. ‘You are a marvel, Miss Florence Rowe; do you know that?’

  ‘I hope I am,’ she said, ‘then maybe I will be able to keep up with you.’

  ‘I’m glad we’ve had this talk,’ he said, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  ‘So am I.’

  They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence and Florence sensed that their relationship had taken a deeper direction. She was happier than she could recall being for a very long time.

  They watched the other visitors from the large horse-led charabancs having fun on the beach. The women stood with their parasols shading them from the sun, while one or two of the younger men took off their shoes and paddled in the shallows.

  Florence noticed them begin to gather and discuss something. Then the men who had removed their footwear put them back on.

  ‘I have a suspicion that they are going to soon make their way to the Rozel Bay Hotel,’ she said, standing. ‘I think that if we would like a table for ourselves then we need to make our way there now, before they catch up with us.’

  He laughed. ‘You don’t miss much at all, do you, Florence?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not when I want to ensure that my companion is able to enjoy a good luncheon.’

  He stood and they began walking in the direction of the hotel. ‘I should have thought to ask that man who spoke to us earlier if he would ask the hotel to reserve a table for us in their dining room.’

  It was a good idea, Florence thought, deciding to remember it for next time – if she was lucky enough to be invited to join him here again.