Mrs Boots Goes to War

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Mrs Boots Goes to War Page 13

by Deborah Carr


  Florence reached her office and sat at her desk thumbing through the publication with a heavy heart. She had been told many times over the past year since the first issue was brought out how much people relished reading every morsel of information in the magazine. She couldn’t help feeling bad that by stopping the magazine the war funds they supported through advertising payments would have to find another source. What would the aspiring poet soldiers do with their poems now that they could no longer submit them for consideration to Comrades in Khaki?

  She reread the letter from her and Jesse to the men sharing their regret that they had to discontinue the magazine, then the ‘Boots Roll of Honour’ and the ‘Letters from the Front’. One letter was from a soldier who had spent ten months on the British Front and another from a motorcyclist writing about a lucky escape of an air pilot. She was particularly saddened by the photo of a young rifleman who had fallen in action. Florence couldn’t help wondering about his family or those of the wounded soldiers depicted in a photo taken at the Harborne Hall Convalescent Home being entertained to tea by her and Jesse.

  There was so much heartache all around them, Florence mused. She wondered how Mrs Culley was getting along and wished there was something she could do to help the family. Losing a son was devastating enough in itself, but if he had been sending his pay home to his parents maybe they had been relying on him returning after the war to continue contributing to their household income.

  She rubbed her eyes, tired and feeling rather emotional after witnessing so much sadness in one day. There must be a way she could help this family, she thought. Then, recalling that Jeanie had said she was fifteen, she wondered if maybe she might like to come and work at Boots. She sat up and checked the time. If she hurried to the sick bay, then maybe she might still catch Mrs Culley and be able to speak to her about offering her daughter a job.

  She hurried out of her office and made her way there, relieved to find Mrs Culley sitting next to her daughter, looking much more relaxed and a little happier as she ate a slice of chocolate cake. They heard Florence enter and both placed their forks down on their plates and went to stand.

  ‘Lady Boot?’

  Florence waved for them to stay seated. ‘I’m sorry to burst in on you both like this, but I wanted to ask if Jeanie has a job yet?’

  Mrs Culley frowned. ‘She did, until last week when she took a day off to sit with me and her boss fired her for taking time off without prior request.’

  ‘He did what?’ Florence was horrified. How could someone be so unfeeling? ‘Did he know her reasons for staying at home with you?’

  Jeanie seemed hesitant for a moment before replying. ‘Yes, your ladyship. I sent word with my neighbour. She works there, too, and, when she gave him my message, he said for her to tell me not to bother going back.’

  Florence scowled. She wished she could ask the name of the girl’s ex-boss and go and give him a piece of her mind. How could anyone be so cruel to a family who were grieving? If he was that nasty, she mused, then he couldn’t have been very pleasant to work for.

  ‘Does that mean you’re looking for work then, Jeanie? Or are you wanting to spend more time at home with your mother at the moment? I understand if you do want to. I’m just asking, if that’s all right?’

  ‘We don’t mind at all, Lady Boot,’ Mrs Culley said. ‘I’m not so bad when I’m at home and, yes, Jeanie is looking for work. May I ask why?’

  Florence clasped her hands together. ‘From what I’ve seen of your daughter, Mrs Culley, Jeanie seems a thoroughly caring and loyal young lady. I’m always looking for girls with her quality to come and join us at Boots. We have a relatively new department where we make the masks and respirators for the brave boys, like your son, who are fighting for us all. I wondered if she might like a job there? She might not be able to join up, but she will be doing a valuable service working in the department.’

  Jeanie’s eyes widened and she stared at her mother. ‘Mother? Could I?’

  Mrs Culley smiled properly for the first time since Florence had met her. She glanced at her daughter and then looked back at Florence. ‘She would like that very much, Lady Boot. As would I. When would you like her to start?’

  ‘As soon as Jeanie chooses to, Mrs Culley.’ She gave her offer some thought. ‘I tell you what. Why doesn’t Jeanie have a couple more days at home with you and begin her new role here at Boots on Monday?’

  ‘Thank you so much, Lady Boot. This job will make all the difference to Jeanie,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘To all the family.’

  ‘I’m pleased to be able to help in some way. And if I’m honest, Mrs Culley, your daughter will be helping me by coming to work for me. So, it works both ways.’

  Jeanie giggled and hearing the joy in the grieving girl’s voice cheered Florence immensely. ‘Right, I had better return to my office. I will bid you a good day, Mrs Culley. Also to you, Jeanie, and please report to my office first thing on Monday morning. I’ll take you to where you’ll be working and introduce you to your manager.’

  As Florence left the two women and returned to her office, she couldn’t help thinking how very lucky she was to be in the privileged position of being able to make a difference to another person’s life. It was something that she was incredibly grateful to be able to do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  July 1916

  A cold, dull and very miserable June finally gave way to warmer weather the following month. Florence sat in Jesse’s office with two of their senior chemists going through final paperwork for the production of their approved medications for venereal disease. She still found it strange that one of their biggest products, apart from aspirin and water-sterilising tablets, was for sexually transmitted diseases.

  She supposed it made sense that with so many men away from their homes, probably for the first time ever experiencing freedom away from their parents’ eyes, combined with the fear that they might not live to see the following week, they would take comfort in professional women in the French and Belgian brothels. She just hadn’t thought about the consequences of those visits and that so many of them, apparently one fifth of all soldiers, needed medication to cure the infections that they had picked up.

  Jesse had tried to insist that Florence not be involved in this particular project due to its less than savoury connotations, but Florence had brushed aside his concerns. This had been a big project and she was determined to keep working as closely to Jesse as she possibly could. He suffered incessant pain now from his crippling rheumatism and she needed to watch over him to ensure he didn’t do too much. He still insisted on being taken to each of his shops to check on them and could still do this himself since having his motor car constructed especially to his specifications. He was the man she admired most in the world, but sometimes she wished that he would take things a little easier and allow others to do more for him.

  ‘Jesse, I’m in my fifties now and have been a chemist’s wife for long enough not to be fazed by much. This is a medical issue, after all. And one that it appears is having a detrimental effect on too many of our fighting men. And I, for one, am determined to do all I can to help solve the problem.’

  Now, though, as she sat across the table from the three men, she couldn’t help hoping that they had indeed come up with the perfect product to help the afflicted soldiers recover as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. Each of them would need to return home with their heads held high or return to fight for their country without wasting any more time than was necessary.

  Once the final signature had been added to the paperwork Florence excused herself and returned to her own office. She looked at the pile of letters received in the morning’s post waiting for her attention. She sat down, tired and emotional, and knew that if Miss Tweed or Gladys Lightbody still worked for her then they would have brought her a cup of tea by now. Gladys’s former assistant, Enid Grimes, wasn’t working out at all satisfactorily. Not only did she not possess the same in
stinct as her predecessors for picking up what was needed, but Florence had noticed that she seemed a little overwhelmed at times. She wasn’t surprised; hers was an incredibly busy office with her workload increasing by the week.

  Enid’s assistant had given notice the previous week to join the FANYs and Florence knew that neither she nor Enid would be able to cope without decent secretarial support. She had wanted to give Enid a chance to settle into the role as her senior secretary and had misguidedly hoped that over time she would become familiar with how everything was run. It was more than a year since she had taken over Gladys’s role and painfully obvious that the poor girl still felt out of her depth. Florence didn’t want to ask her to leave but she did need to do something to rectify the situation. And rather than find a replacement for the assistant, Florence decided that maybe Enid would be more suitable in the supportive role. She had no choice but to demote her and find a new senior secretary to come in and work for her.

  Florence called Enid into her office, deciding that she had little time to waste if she wanted to arrange the girl’s replacement. Enid entered, her face pale and hands clasped together.

  ‘Please, sit down, Enid,’ Florence said, her voice deliberately gentle. When Enid was sitting, Florence began. ‘You’re a hard worker, Enid, and I’m grateful to you for all that you’ve done over the past year.’

  Enid gasped. Her right hand flew to her mouth. ‘You’re firing me, Lady Boot?’ She leaped to her feet. ‘Oh, I knew you would have to. Wasn’t I just telling my sister yesterday that I thought this would happen?’

  Florence’s mouth dropped open in shock. She had supposed Enid was expecting something to have to change but hadn’t thought the timid girl would react in such a dramatic fashion. Florence waved for her to sit down.

  ‘I have no idea what you were saying to your sister. Please, don’t take on so, Enid, it really isn’t the way I expect my staff to behave.’ She waited for the girl to take her seat once more.

  Enid stared down at the floor shamefaced. ‘I’m so sorry, Lady Boot.’

  ‘There really is no need for you to be alarmed. I am not asking you to leave.’ She waited for Enid to take in what she had said. ‘However, by what you’ve just said, it appears that we are both of the same mind. You are obviously finding it difficult to cope in your current role. Do you agree?’

  Enid’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Lady Boot.’

  Florence relaxed slightly, relieved that Enid was now listening to what she was trying to say. ‘I do appreciate all that you’ve done for me this past year, but I believe you are much better suited to an assistant secretarial role.’

  Enid gave a relieved sigh. ‘I think you’re right.’ Her eyes strayed to her lap.

  Florence hated having to lower the girl’s expectations of a future at Boots, but it couldn’t be helped. There was far too much at stake and too many staff members’ livelihoods had to be looked out for. She needed to be firm and find the most appropriate way to make her own office work efficiently if she was going to keep working at the level that she now faced.

  ‘I would like you to carry on as you are for the time being,’ she said, giving Enid a reassuring smile when the girl looked up at her. ‘And, in the meantime, I’ll search for a new senior secretary to come in and look after my administration. I think that once these changes have been made you will probably find your work much easier. That in turn will make your working day a more pleasant one. Don’t you think?’

  Enid’s shoulders lowered and she appeared to relax. ‘Yes, Lady Boot. I’m sorry I didn’t cut the mustard. I did try my best, though, I promise you.’

  ‘I know you did, Enid. Please don’t worry. We will sort this out and I think that with a new set-up everything will run much more smoothly.’

  Enid smiled and thanked Florence again before leaving her office. Now all Florence needed to do was to find someone she could rely upon to step up to the role as her senior secretary. She sighed. If she had failed to find the right woman before, how could she hope to find her now?

  Enid brought Florence in a cup of tea and a biscuit. Florence thanked her and as she sat back in her chair and sipped her tea, she stared out of the window at the pouring rain, trying to feel more positive than she felt.

  Then it dawned on her. Her old friend Lily Buttons! Hadn’t she instinctively known exactly what Florence needed and when? Lily was organised and incredibly hard working. Maybe she should ask her to come and help for a few months while she looked for a permanent replacement? Florence wasn’t sure if her old friend would accept the offer, but it was worth a try.

  She decided that the best way to approach Lily would be face-to-face in the informal setting of her pretty cottage rather than sending her a letter asking her to meet in the office. She sent a note down to Lily asking if she could call in on her that evening after work. Florence knew how Lily liked to walk home alone each day so decided that she would call in on Dorothy and baby Nancy first to give Lily time to take it easy after a long day in the store. She could go to her home afterwards and put forward her proposal.

  She arrived at Dorothy’s home happy to see her eldest daughter cuddling her enchanting daughter. They sat in Dorothy’s living room; the light seemed to fill the room despite the miserable weather. Florence was amused to watch the little girl taking shaky steps from her mother’s outstretched arms into her own. It was strange to think that so many years had gone by since Dorothy was doing the same thing between her and Jesse.

  As she sat forward in the armchair and reached out to catch Nancy should she fall, Florence felt as if she had been transported to when she had been a young mother. Jesse and she had worked hard then, too, she recalled, and had relished the chaos of each day as their children fought and played, bringing the house alive with their chatter. It dawned on her suddenly how much she missed those times.

  ‘You’re such a clever girl,’ Florence said, grabbing hold of little Nancy when the cherubic child stumbled as she neared her. She swooped her up into her arms, making the little girl giggle with delight.

  Florence sat Nancy on her knee and bobbed her up and down as she and Dorothy caught up on what each of them had done that day.

  The front door banged shut and the captain called from the hallway. ‘Where are my best girls?’ Florence heard him say before she heard his footsteps coming towards the living room. She waited for him to enter the room. ‘Wonderful to see you,’ he said, walking over to her to kiss her cheek. ‘Have you seen how clever little Nancy is with her walking now?’ He bent to ruffle his daughter’s hair. The little girl reached her arms up for him to lift her. Once she was in his arms, the captain kissed her forehead and tickled her.

  Florence’s heart swelled to see Dorothy with her small, happy family. ‘I’d better be on my way,’ she said picking up her purse.

  ‘Please don’t rush off on my account,’ he said, walking over to Dorothy and slipping his free arm around her waist. ‘You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner.’

  Florence shook her head. ‘I’d love to, but I have a prior engagement.’ She looked at Dorothy. ‘I’m going to ask Lily Buttons to come and work as my secretary for the time being until I can find a suitable replacement.’

  ‘She’ll be very good,’ Dorothy said. ‘You always did say that Lily seemed to know exactly the right thing to do.’

  Florence laughed. Her daughter was right. ‘Well, I’ll just have to hope I can persuade her.’

  She kissed Dorothy and Nancy goodbye and went out to her car hoping that by approaching Lily she was doing the right thing. What was the worst that could happen?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Florence linked arms with her dear friend and breathed in the fresh scent of the vast array of summer flowers blooming on either side of Lily’s cottage garden. After a miserable, wet morning, the weather had brightened to a warm and humid afternoon.

  ‘This place always makes me smile,’ Florence said, stopping to admire the brig
ht colours all around them. ‘You’ve done a marvellous job here, Lily.’

  ‘It’s not really all down to me. My brother loves to garden and is always out here pottering. I’m grateful for it, too. I prefer to sit on my porch in the shade and gaze at it. It reminds me of some of those gardens you could see along the road in front of those pretty Victorian terraced houses, going towards Havre des Pas beach in Jersey.’

  Florence pictured the tall white bow-fronted houses, some of which had been guest houses and others private homes. Many had made the most of their small front gardens for passers-by on their way to the seafront to admire.

  Lily gave Florence’s arm a gentle squeeze. ‘I’m looking forward to finding out what you’re planning.’ Florence frowned at Lily, unsure about what she meant. Lily gave her a knowing smile. ‘I know you’ve come to ask me something, I can sense it. Let’s sit out here on the porch and I’ll fetch us tea. Unless you’d rather have a glass of lemonade. My sister made some fresh this morning. It’s a little tart but perfect on a hot day like today.’

  Florence realised she hadn’t tasted lemonade for a while. ‘I’ll try your sister’s drink,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Take a seat here.’ Lily indicated two rattan chairs facing the pretty garden. ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

  Florence sat, relieved to be in the shade once again. She gazed out over the colourful garden with its dahlias, poppies, hollyhocks, various types of roses, sweet peas growing up a small cherry tree and other flowers making up the delightful display and couldn’t help thinking how the weather had changed from earlier in the day.

  Florence heard Lily’s footsteps coming out onto the small porch and looked up. She was carrying a small, lacquered tray with two glasses and a jug of the pale drink. Setting it down, Lily took the crocheted cover with its beaded sides from the top of the jug and poured them a glass each, handing one to Florence. ‘Try that. If it’s too tart for you I’ll make tea.’

 

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