Mrs Boots Goes to War

by Deborah Carr

  Florence set the folder down on her desk and found the sheet of paper she was looking for. Running her finger down the list she spotted that they had not one but two vacancies.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said, relieved that she would be able to send Milly to exactly where she had hoped to be the following day.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  September 1918

  Florence and Jesse were missing John now that he was working at General Headquarters in France. Florence wished he could share a little about what he was doing on the Western Front, but all John was able to do was reassure her that his was a managerial role rather than a fighting one. It was still at the Front though, Florence thought anxiously, hoping that he was safe from danger.

  She sat in her armchair next to the fire, listening to Jesse tell her about how he was hoping to help their customers fight this dreadful Spanish flu that had now spread right across the country. She noticed the blanket on his knees slipping slightly and stood, walked over to him, pulled it up over his lap and tucked it into the sides of his wheelchair.

  He waved her hands away, irritated. ‘Stop fussing, Florence. You know how I hate it. I’m more than capable of sorting out my own leg covering should I need to.’

  ‘Never mind all this talk about how we’re to help the country fight this flu pandemic,’ she said, going to sit back down in her chair. ‘You’re not going to be any help to others if you don’t look after your own health, Jesse.’

  He shook his head. ‘That’s just the trouble, my dear. I know that ordinarily it is us older, less healthy people who are the ones to suffer with flu, but this is something new entirely. It seems to be most aggressive with healthy adults in their twenties for some reason.’

  Florence had heard two of the servants saying something similar, and Gladys at work had mentioned it, but she had thought they must be wrong. ‘Surely this generation have suffered enough with four years of war? They can’t cope with being targeted by this pandemic as well.’

  ‘It seems that is exactly what’s happening though, I’m afraid.’

  Florence stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace, saddened almost to the point of tears. ‘How will this young generation ever recover from what they’ve had to face?’

  Jesse groaned. ‘I’ve no idea, but I’m going to see to it that Boots does all we can to help them.’

  Florence wasn’t surprised to hear him say as much. How typical of her beloved Jesse to see a gargantuan, invisible enemy and want to find a way to fight it. She looked over at him. ‘How do you intend doing that?’ she asked, intrigued.

  His face brightened and she could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was already doing something about it. ‘I’ve been in contact with the Ministry of Health. I’ve offered them any help I can come up with.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. Like what?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet, but they’re going to consider a few options. Boots is a much-loved brand known to everyone in Britain and they believe that if I put some advice together people may be inclined to take note of it. I’ve given a few suggestions of how I can do this and they’re going to come back to me at some point.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news, Jesse.’

  ‘Thank you. I have to admit I’m rather pleased. In the meantime, we need to supply our stores with as much aspirin as possible to help sufferers with pain caused by the flu.’

  Florence had heard that the worst thing about the dreadful illness was that some victims, who seemed well when they rose in the morning, then experienced initial symptoms of tiredness, fever and a headache and went on to develop pneumonia, getting a blue hue to their skin.

  She shared what she knew with Jesse. ‘Why do they turn blue though?’ Florence shivered.

  ‘It’s what happens when they’re suffering a lack of oxygen.’ He shook his head. ‘There are other symptoms which I don’t want to share with you. A lot of these poor souls wake seemingly healthy and then die by the early evening. Entire families are dying in some cases, Florence. It’s heart-breaking and I fear it’s going to get far worse before it gets better.’

  Florence had heard similar stories. ‘How can doctors treat something that takes hold and kills within hours though?’

  Jesse shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea,’ he said miserably. ‘If only we could find a way to fight this thing.’

  ‘Or alternatively, we will have to work out the best way to protect ourselves and those around us, if there is no way to fight it medically.’ She had seen people wearing cotton masks and decided that it would be a good idea to either buy some or make them. ‘I also heard that things are bad in France and am going to write to Margery pleading with her to return home. She’s done her bit for the war effort now, surely.’

  Jesse frowned. ‘You think she’ll agree to shut up her canteen and come back?’

  Florence shrugged. She had no idea, but she was going to at least broach the subject with her daughter. She couldn’t bear to have her across the Channel when this horrible illness was decimating people in towns across the country and Europe. ‘I don’t know but I’m going to write to her and see what she says.’

  As always when things got particularly dark, Florence wanted nothing more than to gather her children around her. She thought back to when they were small and how much easier it had been to keep them close. Now though they were all adults and independent people with their own lives to run. When did life become so complicated? she wondered miserably.

  She studied Jesse, noticing how exhausted he seemed, his shoulders stooped and a sadness to his mouth. Working hard to find ways to help the British soldiers and their customers had given him an extra determination to find solutions to problems, or create medicines and items that people needed, but she couldn’t miss the toll it had taken on his health. He was suffering colds more often and the days were becoming more frequent when he didn’t fight her suggestion that he spend the day resting at home or even in bed. It troubled her greatly.

  Jesse noticed her staring at him. ‘What’s the matter?’ He shook his head. ‘And don’t bother denying that you’re more concerned about something than usual because I can see by the look in your eyes that you are.’ He narrowed his eyes slightly. ‘Are you thinking about Margery, or maybe you’re worried about me?’ He sat back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face. ‘That’s what it is, isn’t it? You’ve decided what you’re going to say to Margery and now you’re turning your worries to dealing with me.’

  She didn’t bother trying to argue with him. ‘You obviously know me well enough, so I shan’t try to pretend otherwise. Yes, I am worried about you, Jesse. The company and you have achieved a huge amount during this war, but your health has suffered.’

  She saw the downturn in his mouth and knew he was irritated with her for pointing out how delicate his health was. ‘I don’t mean to upset you, Jesse. Truly I don’t, but you do need to take things much easier from now on.’ When he didn’t reply, she asked, ‘Or at least try to do it for me, if not for yourself.’

  Jesse shrugged. ‘Yes, you’re right. It’s just so frustrating being trapped in a body that doesn’t do all I want it to, that’s all.’

  She stood, walked towards him and crouched in front of his chair, taking his hands in hers. ‘I know, my love. But it’s not just your body now that you have to consider. You’re going to be seventy next year and you should also take your age into account.’

  His face reddened and she knew she had to act fast if he wasn’t going to lose his temper. She rested one of her palms against his cheek and, rising, bent forward to kiss him on his lips. ‘Don’t bother arguing with me, Jesse Boot. It’s a fact, whether we like it or not. You’re getting older, and I hate to say it, but you’re also suffering from overwork and things have to change. Surely you can’t argue with that?’

  Jesse stared at her, his expression slowly softening. Florence felt her heart-rate slow slightly. Relieved.

  ‘You are right in what you’re saying, my dear. I know t
hat well enough. To be honest with you I do feel somewhat exhausted today. I think I’ll spend the next few days at home taking it a bit easier.’

  Florence sighed. ‘I’m relieved to hear you say that and I think that’s a very sensible thing to do. I’ll stay at home with you. We can spend some time here quietly. What do you think?’

  ‘I’d like that very much.’

  Florence kissed him lightly on his lips once more. She didn’t add that it would make her feel much safer knowing he was spending time safely away from others, at least for a time while this Spanish flu ran rampant through the town.

  By November, Florence allowed herself to hope that the end of the war might finally be in sight. She knew by the hint of excitement in people’s voices that she wasn’t alone in feeling this way. It seemed clear that an Armistice was almost certain. She thought back to the start of the war and how they had all prayed it would be over by Christmas. How naïve they had been to even consider such a thing. While Florence’s relief grew at the thought of an end to four years of war, the increase in deaths due to the Spanish flu dampened any excitement she might have felt. So far they had been lucky in that none of their family or their servants had fallen ill. Florence prayed daily that they all remained safe and healthy.

  She received a letter from Margery to confirm that she was returning home with the other women who had been working at her canteen. The end seems to be in sight, she had written the previous week.

  We are all very concerned about this Spanish flu especially as we’ve heard that it’s running rampant through the soldiers fighting over here. We worry that because we come in contact with so many, one or all of us are more than likely to contract the dreadful disease.

  Florence reread Margery’s letter to Jesse. ‘I’m so relieved she’s finally agreed to come home rather than wait until the very end of the war. I honestly expected her to refuse when I suggested she do this.’

  ‘She’s an intelligent girl,’ he said. ‘As are the others with her. I doubt we will have been the only parents writing to plead with their daughter to do the same as we hoped Margery might do.’

  He was right. Whatever Margery’s reason for coming home, all Florence wanted was for her daughter to arrive at St Heliers House so she could look after her and spend some time with her again.

  She was due to come in on the mid-afternoon train. Florence had sent Alfred Parry to the station to wait for her and bring her home. Now, though, she needed to speak to Mrs Rudge about their evening meal and maybe a snack for Margery for when she arrived.

  ‘You do very well, Cook,’ she began. ‘I know that we still have to abide by the rationing but the food you prepare for us all certainly keeps us as healthy as possible and we’re all benefitting from it.’

  ‘I do my best, Lady Boot,’ Mrs Rudge said, her expression serious. ‘It helps that we have a good-sized vegetable garden and a few fruit trees.’

  There was a twinkle in the woman’s eyes betraying how happy she was to hear Florence’s comments about all her hard work for the household.

  ‘My husband and I are aware how much harder it must be for you and the other servants at this difficult time,’ Florence continued. ‘We are extremely grateful to you all and would be grateful if you could pass on our thanks to the others this evening when you have your evening meal. Hopefully soon we can all begin to experience much happier times. I barely dare say it, but it looks as if this war will end soon, and hopefully soon after that this dreadful flu will die out.’

  ‘Let’s hope so, Lady Boot.’ Mrs Rudge narrowed her eyes. ‘You must be very relieved that Miss Margery is coming home this afternoon?’

  ‘Yes, very much so. I’ve been very concerned about her working at that canteen, especially with the number of people she comes into contact with each day. Any one of them could be contagious and pass on the Spanish flu to her or her colleagues. The huge number of soldiers being moved everywhere must be the main reason why this vicious disease is being spread so thoroughly through every country. I’m sure there must be many more who have contracted it but don’t yet know.’ She shuddered at the thought of the invisible enemy among them. How many more trials must everyone have to face before things took a turn for the better? she wondered.

  Mrs Rudge gave a solemn nod. ‘I’ve heard that it’s come in waves. Like the tide. Just when the hospitals think it’s over, then another load of people seem to fall ill from the thing.’ She folded her arms in front of her chest. ‘It’s a terrifying illness, Lady Boot. It really is that.’

  Florence agreed. ‘I know. And there seems to be little we can do about it apart from try to stay away from infected people with coughs and colds and wash our hands thoroughly before eating. Did you find those masks useful that I sent down for you all?’

  ‘Yes, we did.’ Her face reddened slightly. ‘I wear it whenever I step out to the shops, but not indoors.’ She reached out and moved a wooden spoon to place it next to a pair of metal tongs. ‘It’s rather frightening, isn’t it?’

  Florence hated to see her usually confident cook looking so concerned, especially as there was little any of them could do. ‘Yes, Cook, I think we’re all a little worn down by the past four years and then, just when we all begin to have a tiny hope that maybe things might be drawing to an end for us all, this pandemic arrives. We’re luckier than most people though, living here with good sanitation and where the houses are spaced out. At least we can walk in the fresh air. I can’t help worrying about those living in tenement blocks, crammed together near so many other families.’ She didn’t want to worry Mrs Rudge, so she didn’t add that she mixed with lots of people when she went to the store. ‘Hopefully we’ll all come out of this unscathed, as long as we use our masks and wash our hands.’

  Mrs Rudge’s shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘Yes, you’re right, all the servants have been reminded often about the need for personal hygiene. Although, to be honest, they were all very good about that sort of thing already.’

  ‘I know they were,’ Florence said, aware that Cook was pedantic about personal cleanliness. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Now, as to supper this evening,’ Mrs Rudge said.‘We don’t have much meat, but I do have a tasty stew that I’ve made. Was there anything else you wanted to ask me, Lady Boot?’

  Florence clasped her hands together and tried to think what it might have been. ‘Oh, yes, I was hoping you might have a few biscuits or maybe something light for my daughter to eat with a cup of tea when she gets here. She will have had a long journey and I am sure she will be hungry. I know she won’t ask for anything but I’d hate for her to have to wait until supper time.’

  Mrs Rudge tapped the side of her nose a couple of times. ‘I have just the thing, Lady Boot. Miss Margery is a little partial to apricots and I kept back a serving of my Apricot Charlotte from last night’s supper for her, thinking she might like it as a treat. It’s nice and sweet and I’m sure it will help revive her spirits after her journey.’

  Florence laid her hand on her chest. She was touched by Mrs Rudge’s forward planning and recalled the delicious taste of the pudding the previous evening. ‘You are incredibly organised and thoughtful as ever, Cook. Thank you very much. I’m sure Margery will be delighted to be greeted by something that delicious.’

  Mrs Rudge beamed at her, her cheeks reddening. ‘It’s the least I can do for a young woman who has been working so hard for others. It’ll be good to have her back again.’

  ‘It will, Cook.’ Florence shrugged. ‘Well, I’d better get back to Sir Jesse and wait for Miss Margery to arrive.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  11 November 1918

  Florence hurried downstairs to where Margery and Jesse were waiting for her. She could barely believe this day had come and was looking forward to attending the Thanksgiving service that had been hurriedly arranged at their church. She had listened to Jesse’s delight that Lloyd George had announced an Armistice and enjoyed seeing a sparkle of happiness in his gentle eyes.
<
br />   What she couldn’t understand was why she didn’t seem to be experiencing the same happiness now that the war had been brought to a close. What was wrong with her? she thought, irritated with herself.

  She reached the bottom step and stopped, taking a moment to watch Margery and Jesse, both ready and waiting for her to make an appearance. Her heart swelled to see her youngest child standing next to Jesse’s chair, smiling down at him as they chatted. So much had changed since they last enjoyed peacetime in this house.

  She listened to them talking as she tried to gauge her own feelings and why she wasn’t seemingly as delighted as everyone else appeared to be.

  Jesse looked up. ‘Ah, there you are. Come along, my dear. We’re going to be late at this rate and we can’t have that happening.’

  As they drove the short distance to the chapel, Florence admitted her conflicting feelings to her husband and daughter.

  ‘I don’t understand why I’m not deliriously happy right now. It doesn’t make sense. This is what we’ve all been praying for these past four years. I should be overjoyed.’

  Margery frowned and leant forward. ‘Mother, your feelings are completely understandable.’

  Jesse raised his hand. ‘Margery’s right, dear. We might be celebrating the end of the war, but, like you, I’m sure we’re all haunted by the fallen, and by the injured who won’t be able to continue the lives they left behind when they enlisted.’

  ‘Father’s right,’ Margery said, giving Florence’s hand a gentle squeeze. ‘There’s also the flu that we’re all at risk from now, and the shortages of food and jobs, and of course your losing Uncle Willie earlier this year.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s hardly surprising you’re not in the mood to be cheerful.’