Maybe This Time

by Anna King

  ‘You all right, Annie? You look worn out. Would you like to sit down for a minute?’ Josie looked with concern at the middle-aged woman. Annie’s face was flushed and sweating, though it wasn’t that that Josie was worried about. It was a hot day, and they were all feeling the heat. But Annie had seemed preoccupied all morning, her normal cheery character noticeably absent.

  ‘Mum!’ Jane looked at her mother guiltily. She’d been having such a good time she had neglected to keep an eye on her mother. Jane knew Annie couldn’t take too much heat, it made her ill; it always had.

  Flustered by the fuss being made of her, Annie firmly pushed her worries about the letter to the back of her mind, summoned up a smile and said, ‘Course I’m all right. I’m not in me dotage yet. It’ll be a while before I’m pushing up the daisies.’

  Josie and Jane exchanged amused glances. Then Jane laughed.

  ‘Mum, you’ve been saying that for years.’ She turned to Josie. ‘Every time one of us worries about her she comes out with that old saying. Then my dad says she’s as tough as old boots, and they’d have to put her down, because that’s the only way she’ll leave this mortal coil.’

  Not wanting Annie to feel she was spoiling the day, Josie blew out her cheeks, saying, ‘Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m sweating. How about getting some ice cream before we carry on?’

  Annie inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She’d be fine after a bit of a rest and something cold to cool her down.

  Left alone on an ornate iron bench outside a posh jeweller’s in the middle of Oxford Street while Jane and Josie went in search of an ice-cream vendor, Annie looked around her surroundings feeling totally out of place. Why they couldn’t have gone to one of the markets at home she didn’t know. If she’d known Josie was planning on taking them to the West End, she would have tried to get out of going. But Josie, bless her, had thought she was treating them by taking them up West. She and Jane had been so excited when they had boarded the tram, Annie hadn’t had the heart to pour cold water on her young friend’s plan. Though she had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that although the journey had taken well over an hour, the ride on top of the tram had been a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

  Letting her eyes wander, she took in the well- groomed women in their fancy gowns, twirling dainty parasols to ward off the sun, even though they were wearing what Annie surmised to be the latest fashion in hats. Then there were the men, dressed in their smart three-piece pinstripe suits and bowler hats, striding along the pavements, full of their own importance. Annie stifled a giggle thinking of what her lads would say if they were here with her now. For all these busy, harassed-looking men reminded Annie of a flock of penguins.

  And the noise! She was used to pushing her way through the various markets in the East End, but this place was like being landed in bedlam. She didn’t mind the crowded streets; it was the never-ending flow of traffic she couldn’t get used to. The roads were packed solid with trams, horse-drawn buses, hackney cabs and private carriages. And that wasn’t counting the delivery vans on their daily journeys to the numerous shops and restaurants.

  Feeling self-conscious in her plain attire of old white blouse and black skirt that had seen better days, Annie looked over the road in the direction Josie and Jane had gone. When she spotted them her face lit up with relief, then changed to worry as she watched them trying to negotiate a safe passage through the heavy traffic, while holding on to their ice-cream cornets. When they finally stepped on to the pavement Annie breathed a sigh of relief.

  At that moment she felt something drop on to her skirt and looked down. To her horror she saw three shiny pennies lying in her lap. Then a posh voice said haughtily, ‘Buy yourself a decent meal, woman. Though I suppose it will go straight into the nearest public house.’

  Annie jumped up as if she’d been stung, her face the colour of beetroot.

  ‘Ye cheeky…’ Words momentarily failed her, but not for long. Outraged at what she perceived to be an insult, she picked up the coins and thrust them against the startled man’s chest with such force he staggered back. Her arms akimbo, Annie yelled angrily, ‘Just ’cos I’m not dressed up like a dummy doesn’t make me a beggar. Now g’wan. Be off with ye, afore I really lose me temper.’

  The woman with him raised her eyes disdainfully, twirled her parasol and said, ‘Come away, Frederick. There’s no use arguing with people like these; especially the Irish. Though I’ve never known one to turn down a free drink before.’

  A red mist fell over Annie’s eyes, her Irish temperament reaching boiling point. Then she heard Jane’s voice, high-pitched with anxiety, and her temper abated.

  ‘Mum! Mum. Come away, please.’

  Patting Jane’s arm, Annie said with a calm she was far from feeling, ‘It’s all right, love, don’t fret yourself.’ But her tone didn’t coincide with the fiery, burning anger reflected in her eyes.

  The couple backed away.

  ‘If you are related to this… this woman, I suggest you take her home before I call a policeman. In fact—’

  Josie swung round on the man.

  ‘Listen, mister, and you, lady.’ She glared at the couple. ‘If I was you, I’d sling me ’ook while you can. ’Cos you’re in so much danger here, an’ you don’t even know it.’

  A small crowd was gathering, and Jane, mortified at the attention they were attracting, leaned against her mother, begging, ‘Let’s go, Mum, please.’

  ‘It’s all right, Jane, we’re going.’ Josie, her voice strong, cast a scathing glare over the curious bystanders. ‘Well! Seen enough, have you?’

  The small crowd fell back, but only to what they deemed a safe distance from the three women.

  Annie felt the trembling body of her daughter and experienced a jolt of remorse. Why couldn’t she have kept her blasted temper? Now, because of her, she had ruined the day for Jane and Josie. Her head drooped.

  ‘I’m sorry, love, and you, Josie. I’ve ruined your day, so I have. Ye should have left me back where I belong, not brought up here with the toffs. I’ve disgraced meself and yous into the bargain. You two go on without me, before I show ye up again.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Josie said, her voice strong and forceful. ‘We’re not gonna let a pair of toffee-nosed sods spoil our day.’ She stared hard at Annie. ‘I’ve waited a long, long time for a day like this. If it wasn’t for you I’d never have gotten the nerve to start my life over. There’s not many people who get a second chance, but you gave that to me, and I’m not going anywhere without you by my side.’

  Annie returned Josie’s gaze and nodded. Lifting her chin proudly, she replied, ‘You’re right, love. It’s your day, and I’ll not be spoiling it again.’ Grabbing Jane’s hand, she turned to the remaining onlookers and said brusquely, ‘Well! What are you lot gawping at? Haven’t ye any homes to go to?’

  Those waiting in the hope of further entertainment quickly dispersed, leaving a wide berth for the three women to pass through. They had hardly gone more than a few steps when Annie, a perplexed look on her face, said, ‘Where’s me ice cream?’

  It was the perfect thing to say to relieve the tension. And it worked. Josie and Jane burst out laughing at Annie’s audacity.

  ‘Oh, Mum, you are the limit. Josie and me risked life and limb to get you your ice cream, and then we had to drop the lot to stop you getting arrested for creating a public disturbance.’

  Linking arms, they proceeded on their way. And while they joked, each of the women was thinking different thoughts.

  Jane was still shaken by what could have turned into a very unpleasant scene, Annie was cursing herself for letting her Irish temper get the better of her again, and Josie was inwardly seething at the way her dearest friend had been treated like a common beggar just because of the way she was dressed.

  Josie’s back straightened, her chin jutting out determinedly. By the end of the day they would all be dressed well enough to get into Buckingham Palace itself if they had a mind to. />
  The next hour was spent going in and out of shops without buying a single item, and Annie was finding it very hard to bite back words of complaint for Josie and Jane’s sake. It was the least she could do after the earlier fracas, minor as it was. Josie too was getting impatient, but with herself for dithering and wasting the best half of the morning. When she had left home she had been determined to buy herself, Annie and Jane new outfits and bugger what the neighbours thought when they saw them dressed up to the nines. Ida Black would know at once that Josie had found Elsie’s money, but without the elusive so-called will, she could do nothing.

  Still Josie hesitated. She glanced at the women either side of her. Jane’s earlier enthusiasm was fading fast, and Annie looked as if she was ready to drop, and again Josie cursed herself for a fool. But after a lifetime of watching every penny, of making her clothes from remnants bought down the markets, it was extremely hard for her to start throwing money around. She wished now she had come alone, for if she had she’d have had no compunction in turning and going back home empty-handed. That option was now closed. Furious with herself for being so weak, she said, ‘I’m sorry I’ve been mucking both of you about. It’s just that… Well, I still can’t believe I’ve got money to spend. But I promised you both a new outfit, and one for meself. So the next shop we come to, I’m going in and not coming out again until we’ve all bought something.’

  Jane immediately brightened, but Annie knew how Josie was feeling.

  ‘Listen, love. Ye don’t have to be worrying about us. There’s always another day, and maybe we’d be more comfortable shopping in our own back yard.’

  A lump was forming in Josie’s throat. She had let her friends down. Not intentionally, but that was what she had done nevertheless. Annie had been right in one respect. One of the reasons they hadn’t lingered long in any of the impressive shops was because all three of them had stuck out like sore thumbs. In Selfridges they had even been followed round the various departments by the store detective, not only because they looked out of place, but because their nervousness at being surrounded by such expensive items of clothing must have made them appear suspicious. What they needed was a small shop, one that sold clothes of good quality without being too ostentatious. More importantly, somewhere they would be made welcome.

  ‘Here, Josie. Will ye look at this dress. By, you’d look grand in that, love.’

  Shaken from her reverie, Josie started.

  ‘Sorry, Annie, what did you say?’

  Grabbing her by the arm, Annie turned Josie towards the display window of a small but elegant shop. Josie’s eyes widened. It was uncanny. She had been thinking about just such a shop, and here they were now standing right outside it.

  ‘I said look,’ Annie repeated in exasperation. ‘It could have been made for ye. It puts me in mind of that dress ye made for that party. You know the one I mean. The one our Rory—’ Annie sucked in her cheeks as she realised what she’d said.

  ‘You needn’t worry, Annie. I’m not gonna faint away every time I hear his name mentioned.’

  Josie was staring at the dark red dress displayed on a mannequin in the shop window, her eyes lighting up with excitement. It was everything she had dreamed of owning one day. And despite Annie’s kind words, it was nothing like the cheap outfit she’d made for herself. The only comparison was the colour, and even that was different. For the dress in the window was of a deep red, as opposed to the bright red silk she had so painstakingly stitched. The sleeves were long, tapering into wide silk-braided cuffs. The bodice had a wide white frill inserted at the neck, which ran into a V shape in the middle of the bust. The dress tapered in at the braided waist, flowing into a full skirt with a discreet bustle that added an elegant touch to the garment.

  Unlike the famous stores, this window display was sparse, containing only the dress, a three-quarter matching coat, hat, gloves and shoes. There were no price tags on any of the articles, which in itself should have brought back Josie’s misgivings, but it didn’t. This was the kind of thing she had been looking for, the kind of clothes she had dreamed of for years. But would they fit her? Her doubting eyes lifted to look over the curtain that was hanging from a shiny brass rail, and she could see the shop was empty. Her previous reluctance to buy anything had been partly because she was afraid of facing the smartly dressed assistants. But this shop was tiny by comparison, small but good class. That much was evident from the window display. Too good for the likes of her. All she had wanted was something a bit out of the ordinary, something different from the store-type

  clothing. Oh, but that was a lovely outfit; yet where would she have the chance to wear it?

  Before she could lose her nerve again, she pushed open the door and stepped on to a thick pile carpet with Annie and Jane following her. A bell tinkled over the doorway and immediately a smartly dressed woman emerged from a side room. All three women held their breath, expecting the same snooty reception they had been subjected to all morning; instead, the woman smiled warmly.

  ‘Good afternoon, ladies. How may I help you?’

  The tension ebbed from their bodies, though they remained wary. Licking her dry lips, Josie said tentatively, ‘That… that outfit, the one in the window. Could you tell me how much it is, please?’

  The tall, slim woman, whom Josie surmised to be in her late fifties, smiled graciously.

  ‘Would that be for you, madam?’

  Josie swallowed nervously.

  ‘Yeah… I mean, yes, it’s for me… If it fits. And I’d also like to buy my friends new outfits as well.’

  Edna Walker let her eyes roam over the three women. They didn’t look as if they could afford her prices, but one never knew in this business. She also noted their apprehension and quickly set about putting them at their ease.

  ‘Please, ladies, will you follow me to the changing rooms? We will be more comfortable there.’

  Like children obeying their teacher, they did as the elegant woman asked, following her towards a thick velvet curtain. Pulling it aside, she beckoned them forward.

  Sticking close together, the women entered, and as one gaped at the opulence of the room.

  ‘Come, sit down and make yourselves comfortable.’ Edna gestured towards four plush armchairs.

  Definitely uncomfortable now, Josie stuttered, ‘I’m… I’m sorry. I’m afraid we’d be wasting your time.’

  The proprietor leaned her head to one side as she studied the three women. Part of her successful business acumen was her ability to empathise with human nature. Before her she saw not just three women of various ages, but three unique individuals.

  The youngest of the trio, though as apprehensive as her companions, still radiated an air of excitement. Edna had noticed the scarred face, even under the large hat she guessed had been made especially for her. What a shame; particularly for one so young and pretty. She turned her attention to the eldest of the group, and had to suppress a smile, for the poor woman was practically squirming with embarrassment, most likely wishing she was anywhere but here in what to her must seem like another world. Finally she let her glance linger on the third woman, who was dressed in a drab, shapeless outfit that screamed of being hand-made, and, unfortunately, not very well. Yet Edna was able to see beyond the women’s outward appearance, visualising instead how they would look when they left her establishment. Providing, of course, they could afford her prices.

  ‘Please, ladies, sit down. I ask only that you let me show you some of my designs. You can try them on, as many as take your interest. I normally close at one on Saturday, but I think I can make an exception today. One of the advantages of owning one’s business is being able to close when one desires. So, ladies, what do you say? Will you stay and see what I have to offer? No other customers will disturb us. If you decide to purchase some of my designs, I will, of course, be delighted. If you don’t…’ She raised her shoulders and smiled. ‘Well then, we shall hopefully have had an afternoon of fun.’ She looked at the women, t
rying to gauge their feelings, and sensed rather than saw the slight relaxation in their bodies.

  Josie’s face intrigued her the most, in terms of the purity and pain etched upon it. Edna Walker had lost her husband and three sons in the Boer War; she knew only too well what pain was like. This woman had been hurt, and hurt badly. Not physically, but mentally. And Edna guessed that that hurt had been inflicted by a man; it usually was. Suddenly she felt a need to help her, to take the pain from the kind face. She had no intention of making her pocket suffer through sentimentality, but there was something about this woman. It felt to Edna as if she had been handed a challenge.

  She studied Josie’s face and saw the high cheek bones, the smooth line of her jaw and the full lips, and experienced a sudden urge to transform the badly dressed, shy and awkward woman into a confident, attractive one. Hopefully, when she left her shop, she would look like a new woman. But first things first, Edna cautioned herself. The costume had yet to be tried on to ensure it was the right size.

  Locking the door and turning the sign to ‘Closed’, Edna stepped up into the display window. Handling the clothes as if they were precious items, she held them out to Josie, and saw the excitement mixed with trepidation on the woman’s face. She could almost feel the tumultuous emotions racking Josie’s body and mind.

  ‘Now, madam, if you would care to step into one of the cubicles to ascertain if the outfit is suitable, I will endeavour to help your friends.’

  Edna turned to Annie and Jane.

  ‘Now then, ladies, will you follow me.’

  The dignified woman crossed to a full-length wardrobe and slid the door open. Beckoning to the silent figures, she hid a smile at their obvious discomfort. She would soon put them at their ease. In her thirty years of running the shop, Edna had never before encountered people such as these, at least not in the past twenty years. She had become used to catering for the upper class, and with the exception of a few, most of her clientele still treated Edna as if they were superior to her. Now these three women, devoid of airs and graces, had walked into her shop, and brought with them a breath of fresh air. Edna had warmed to them straight away.