by Deborah Carr
Amy nodded. She smiled at the red-faced girl standing nervously in the shop staring at her worn shoes.
‘Come with me,’ Amy said, instantly taking over and allowing Florence the time to go after the rude postman.
Florence hurried after the man. ‘Excuse me,’ she called, catching up with him outside the chemist next door to Rowes.
‘Yes, Miss Rowe,’ he said, shocked to see her behind him. ‘Did you want me to take any mail for you?’
She was desperate to give him a piece of her mind but forced herself to remain calm. The last thing she wanted was for any of their neighbours to see her squabbling with this man in the street. She raised her chin, standing as tall as she could. She towered over him and as she did so, he seemed to reduce in statute and confidence. Maybe, she thought, he now has an inkling of how he made Lily feel.
She lowered her voice, but kept a smile on her face in case anyone should see them talking. ‘I would be grateful if you did not presume to speak to our customers in the fashion to which you have just done.’
‘Err, I, um.’
She could tell he was completely bemused by her reaction to what had happened. Florence had to wonder if he spoke to young girls like Lily so often with such disdain that he didn’t even realise how rude and threatening his behaviour seemed.
‘That young lady you pushed out of your way next door is a friend of my family’s. I would be grateful if you refrained from speaking to her in such a fashion, or, indeed, any other of our customers in such a way.’
‘I … um.’
‘You probably frightened the girl,’ she said, glowering down at him. ‘And I’m sure you will agree that none of us like to be frightened, do we?’
‘No, Miss Rowe,’ he said, shamefaced.
‘Then I will thank you not to do so again in the vicinity of Rowe’s Stationers.’
‘Sorry, Miss Rowe. I can assure you it won’t happen again.’ He moved from one foot to the other and Florence could see that he was desperate to get away from her and continue on his round. ‘Thank you. Is that all, Miss Rowe?’
‘Almost.’
His shoulders slumped. ‘I would also ask that you do not take it upon yourself to decide who we do and do not wish to serve at Rowe’s Stationers. I do not believe it to be your place to firstly make that decision and, secondly, inform the person involved. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Perfectly, Miss Rowe.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, satisfied that her words had had the desired effect on him. ‘Then I shall say no more about it. Good day.’
‘Err, good day, Miss Rowe.’
She turned on her heels and, head held high, marched back into the shop. She noticed two women from across the street pretending not to be watching her. Florence was aware others saw her as a little overbearing at times but put it down to the fact that she was tall and didn’t suffer fools.
She arrived back at the shop and opened the door. Seeing Lily speaking quietly at the back of the shop with Amy, Florence went to join them.
‘Lily, I’m so terribly sorry about that man being so rude to you.’
Lily shrugged. ‘I’m used to it, Miss. He’s probably right in what he says; this beautiful place isn’t somewhere I should come to.’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ Amy snapped. ‘The man is a buffoon, which I’m sure my sister has already told him.’
Florence saw Lily stiffen and didn’t want to frighten her further. ‘Not at all, Amy,’ she said, keeping her voice soft. She didn’t want Lily to be put off from visiting them again. ‘I merely explained that it was not up to him to decide who our customers could be.’
‘Now, Lily,’ Florence said, smiling. ‘It’s wonderful to see you again. We’ve been thinking about you, haven’t we, Amy?’
‘We have been a little concerned not to see you,’ Amy admitted. ‘How are you keeping?’
Lily shrugged one skinny shoulder. ‘I’m doin’ fine,’ she said, not sounding at all convincing to Florence’s ears. ‘My dad was—’ she hesitated ‘—away for a few weeks, so it was quieter at home.’
Florence assumed that Lily had meant her father to have been locked up in Newgate Street jail but didn’t like to ask.
‘Is he back at home now?’
Lily shook her head. ‘Tomorrow, we think.’
Florence could feel the girl’s tension and wondered if this was why she had come back to visit her and Amy, hoping to be given some sort of comforting words.
‘And are your mother and siblings all well?’ Amy asked, glancing at Florence over Lily’s bent head as she picked at her bitten fingernails while she decided how to answer the question.’
‘They are.’
‘May I ask if you still go to school?’ Florence asked, unsure how old Lily actually was.
Lily frowned at her. ‘I’m fifteen, Miss Rowe. I left school a long while back.’
Mortified, Florence winced. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I thought you were younger.’
‘I know I look younger than my age,’ she said. ‘I’m always being mistaken for one of my smaller sisters.’
‘We’re about to have some tea and biscuits,’ Amy lied. ‘Would you like me to bring a cup for you, too?’
Lily glanced at the door, then at Florence and Amy. ‘If you really don’t mind.’
Amy smiled. ‘I wouldn’t have offered if we did.’
Lily’s face lit up. ‘Then I’d like some very much.’
Florence showed her over to the back of the shop and indicated the two chairs. ‘Please, let’s sit for a while. It’s quiet in here this afternoon, so we won’t bother anyone if we do.’
She noticed Lily shiver. ‘You’re cold?’
Lily stared down at her hands again. ‘I, um, lost my shawl,’ she said. ‘It was silly of me.’
Florence couldn’t help doubting the girl’s story. Her clothes were very worn, but Florence could see that they were clean, and that Lily took pride in the way she tried to make the best of her dress and shoes.
Wanting to take Lily’s focus from her situation, Florence changed the subject. ‘What dreams do you have for yourself, Lily?’
Lily’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. ‘Dreams?’
‘Yes,’ Florence said, wondering if anyone had ever asked her such a thing before. ‘You must have dreams for your future. About the things you want for yourself. Where you’d like to live, get married, that sort of thing?’
Lily stared at Florence thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You must have some, everyone does.’ She wasn’t certain of this. She believed that if Lily had the realisation that there was more to life than the squalor that she lived in with her bullying father, then maybe she had a chance to escape it at some point.
‘Well,’ Lily said, the hint of a smile appearing on her pretty, drawn face, ‘I have always wanted to work in a shop. One like this, or maybe a dress shop.’
Florence’s heart lifted at the young girl’s words. She had ambition. It was all Florence wanted to hear. Ambition, hard work and someone giving her the chance to make something of herself was the most likely way Lily would find a way out of her current circumstance.
She decided she would speak to her father about maybe employing Lily on Saturday mornings. She doubted he could afford to employ her for more hours than that. Florence decided that she would offer her own wages to be reduced to cover Lily’s, if her father approved of her idea. She kept her thoughts to herself, not wishing to get Lily’s hopes up only to quash them should her father refuse to do as she asked.
‘And there’s no reason why you shouldn’t work in a shop, as you wish to do.’
Lily gazed down miserably at her dress. ‘They’re not going to take me on wearing clothes like these, though, are they?’
Florence couldn’t argue with that, Lily was right. She wasn’t presentable enough to work in a shop, not as she appeared now.
Amy arrived back into the shop carrying a tea tray and, Flor
ence noticed, a plate of the nicer biscuits her mother kept for guests.
‘This is just what we all need on such a miserable day,’ she said, pouring a cup for Lily and handing it to her.
For a couple of seconds, Lily seemed terrified of the cup and saucer and Florence noticed her hands shaking slightly. ‘Put it down on that small table next to you, and take one of these.’ She took the plate from the tray and held it out to Lily. ‘Take a couple; they’re delicious. Mother baked them yesterday.’
Lily placed the cup and saucer down on the table, the porcelain cup clattering against the saucer noisily and then did as Florence suggested. Her eyes widened as she stared at the plate of biscuits.
‘They have chocolate in them,’ Amy said. ‘Our father has a sweet tooth and Mother makes them for him occasionally.’
At the mention of their father, Lily’s hands pulled back from the plate. ‘Won’t he be angry if we eat them?’
‘No,’ Amy argued. ‘There are plenty more for him still in the tin. Now, take a couple before I eat them all.’
Florence smiled. Amy would never eat more than one, or two in a day. She wasn’t a big eater and preferred savoury treats to sugary ones. Now, Florence, mused, if this was a plate of cheese, they would probably not be able to eat more than a scrap each.
They watched as Lily took a bite from the biscuit in her right hand, closing her eyes as the sensation of the chocolate melted into her mouth.
‘They’re good, aren’t they?’ Florence said, satisfied that Lily was enjoying herself.
‘We told you they would be,’ Amy giggled.
Lily nodded. She shivered slightly. ‘That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.’
Florence glanced out of the window. It had stopped raining, but was still gloomy and the wind had increased by the looks of people’s clothes. She couldn’t let Lily walk home without a shawl. Aware her father wouldn’t like it if Lily came home with a good shawl, she recalled that she had an older one that her mother had knitted for her several years before.
‘I’m just popping upstairs briefly,’ Florence said. She couldn’t let the girl go out in the rain without at least giving her something to put over her head.
Florence went to her room and rummaged through the oak drawers where she kept her clothes. Finding what she was looking for, she held the pale-green knitted shawl open. It appeared a little worn, but she knew that to give Lily anything new would probably only result in her father selling it.
Going back to join her sister and Lily, she handed the shawl to the girl.
‘I’d like to give this to you,’ she said. ‘It’s an old one of mine that I don’t use any more and I thought it might do to replace the one you lost.’
Lily stared at it momentarily. ‘Are you certain you won’t need it again?’
Florence nodded. ‘I have a couple of others. To be honest this one is a little small for me now. I hope your parents won’t be offended by me passing this on to you.’
‘No, they won’t,’ Lily assured them. ‘I’ll tell them that it’s a hand-me-down from my cousin Brigit. She’ll cover for me.’
‘Put it on,’ Amy said, as Lily shivered again. ‘Let’s see how it looks on you.’
Lily glanced from one to the other of them before standing and doing as Amy suggested. She wrapped the soft wool around her shoulders and crossing it in front of her, tied the ends together behind her back.
‘It’s ever so warm,’ she said beaming at them. ‘Thank you very much.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ Florence said, wishing she could also find a pair of Boot for Lily, but knowing firstly that to do so would probably insult her, and also that no one in their family probably had feet as small as Lily’s. ‘Now, drink your tea before it gets too cold.’
Lily sat back down and finished her tea. After another cup, she placed the cup and saucer onto the table and stood to leave.
‘I’d better be going home now, or my ma will be wondering where I am. Thank you very much, though,’ she said her cheeks reddening slightly. ‘You’re both very kind.’
‘Not at all,’ Amy smiled at her.
‘We don’t want you being a stranger to us, Lily,’ Florence said, walking with her to the front door. ‘Please come back and see us here again soon, won’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Lily said, smiling up at her. ‘I will.’
Florence watched her go, waving when Lily turned to smile at her as she walked down Queen Street looking much warmer than when she had arrived. She hoped that the next time Lily came to the shop that she might be able to offer her some work. First, though, she needed to speak to her father and ask him for permission to do so.
She restocked some of the shelves and wondered what Jesse would think of her idea on how best to help Lily. She would write to him as soon as the shop was closed. Yes, she thought, he’ll know what to do.
27 Queen Street
St Helier
Jersey
11 October 1885
Mr J Boot
16–20 Goose Gate
Nottingham
Dearest Jesse,
I hope you’re keeping well and that you’re not working too hard. Please ensure you take time to rest and eat properly.
You’ll never guess who came to visit Amy and me at the shop this afternoon? Yes, Lily Buttons. Do you remember the poor girl with the bullish father? You were so kind to her that day, stepping in instantly to remove her from what appeared as if it could become a dangerous incident, for her, at least.
She is probably thinner than the last time we saw her. She said her father has been away and I believe that he may be in Newgate Street prison, which could account for her thinness. He might not be the most pleasant of men, but I gather that he does earn a living from time to time and without his income they must have had to get by on less food than usual.
She came to the shop today after an unfortunate incident with someone who tried to turn her away. I’m sure you can imagine mine and Amy’s fury at someone presuming to do such a thing, firstly, to a young girl who was doing nothing wrong at all, and secondly, at Rowe’s where the man had no authority to take it upon himself to evict anyone from our property. We invited her inside because she was cold. I gave her one of my shawls. Oh, Jesse, it was pitiful how grateful she was. The dear girl. I only wish I could have helped her more. Do you have any ideas as to how I could help Lily further, without her taking offence and thinking of it as accepting charity?
I did have one idea and have decided to ask Father if he might consider employing Lily for several days each week. Maybe this is my best way to help her? I’ve just read this letter back and it seems that I’ve answered my own question, but if you do think of anything else, please do write and tell me. I would be most grateful for any advice from you, dearest Jesse.
I do believe that if Lily is given the opportunity of coming to work at the shop and learning how things are done, then she will agree to do so. She’s a determined girl and seems to want to help her family and make up for her father’s occasional lack of support for them.
It will be busier in the shop in the weeks leading up to Christmas. Lily needs an income and, I believe, to know that there are people on her side who are looking out for her. Father has always believed that we, as a family, are enough to run Rowe’s and I don’t know if he will agree to my suggestion. I need to find a way to persuade him but am unsure what to say.
Thank you, dearest Jesse. I know that you have helped many of the poorer people in Nottingham in various ways, one of which being to give them work and the skills to earn their own living. I can’t imagine anyone being in a better position than you to help me with this.
I look forward to receiving your thoughts and long to hear your own news.
As always,
Florence
She folded her letter and washed her face and hands. She put on her house shoes and went to join her family for supper. Lily had made her think more deeply about others in a similar situation to
hers. How did families like Lily’s manage during the winter months? she wondered.
She didn’t have long to wait for Jesse’s reply. It was a relief because her father had caught her gazing out of the window on several occasions over the next few days trying to spot the girl. She couldn’t help worrying about Lily and how helpless she had seemed with so many obstacles against her.
16–20 Goose Gate
Nottingham
15 October 1885
Miss Florence Rowe
27 Queen Street
St Helier
Jersey
Dearest Florence,
I am well and taking good care of myself. Not that I have to do much, except return home to a warm house with fires lit by my servants and food prepared by my cook. I am not working too hard, so please, do not fret about me. Thank you though for caring so much.
Now, about your thoughts with regard to Miss Lily Buttons. I think it a marvellous idea. The best way to assist anyone and help them find their way out of poverty is to give them a hand up, rather than a handout. Lily needs to build up a set of skills and find the confidence to use them. That as well as employment, of course. So, yes, I agree that what you propose is the best way to help the young lady to help herself and ultimately her family.
I understand a certain hardship, though not as difficult as Lily’s, I assume. My father was a good, hard-working, God-fearing man. He died when I was ten years old and my sister, Jane barely eighteen months. The following ten years were very difficult for my mother and keeping our Goose Gate shop open was a necessity as it was the income that kept our family with a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.
She was helped by the support of chapel friends and my father’s connections, and I recall many days where the two of us walked miles, our feet bare to save our shoes. We collected herbs to dry around our small parlour to then use in an herbal recipe to sell in our shop. I learnt from that young age the sense of fear that my family could lose our home at any moment and the need to work hard to retain what little we had to sustain ourselves.
Have you broached your father about the matter yet? If so, was he compliant? Please let me know if not. I am unsure right now what I could do to help, but I will do my best to come up with some way of assisting you.