Wartime at Liberty's

by Fiona Ford

  But life wasn’t just. If it were then Neil would never have died. And if he did have to die, then his final letter to her wouldn’t have been full of so many cruel words. And now Flo wouldn’t feel as though she was the very worst wife in the world who would never know happiness again.

  Chapter Two

  Just as Flo had hoped, the sun was replaced with miserable skies and rain as thick as stair-rods the following morning. As she stepped off the Tube at Oxford Circus, she felt the rain slide down her neck and winced as the cold droplets found their way down her back. Picking up her step, she made her way towards Liberty’s, unable to ignore the devastation of war that surrounded her. Even though bombs scarcely fell any longer, you didn’t have to walk far in London to see the destruction.

  Around her lay shelled shops and homes, with ghosts of their former lives on display for all to see. Cracked mirrors hung on walls, neglected washing on lines and faded, torn wallpaper were all stark reminders of lives stamped out mid-flow.

  Checking the little silver watch Neil had given her six years ago on her twenty-first birthday, Flo saw she had plenty of time before she was due on the shop floor. Today was Friday and was always one of the busiest days of the shopping week. She hadn’t been sure that today would be the best day to return to work, but Dot had told her that yesterday they had taken delivery of some new utility print fabric, and that now would be the perfect time: dealing with the new stock would take her mind off things. Flo was too tired to argue. After all, Dot seemed to have it all planned out. Once she had said goodbye to the last of her guests Dot had presented her with a suitcase full of her belongings and, together with Alice and her ten-month-old son Arthur, they had marched promptly to the bus stop to travel to Dot’s little Bell Street terrace in the Elephant and Castle.

  They had arrived about an hour and a half later and Dot had shown her the box room Mary used to sleep in; then she told her there would be a cold supper of potted meat sandwiches if she was hungry. But Flo wasn’t, and the moment Dot showed her to her room, she had promptly fallen asleep and not woken until it was time to get up that morning.

  She had hoped that a good night’s sleep might help make her feel better, but she awoke feeling wretched, the memory of Neil’s final words to her engraved on her mind. Yet instead of dwelling on them, Flo got ready for work and prepared to get in early. Perhaps the best way through this mess was to try and act as though she cared about her job, and that included getting to work early to examine the new fabric. Usually fabrics were broken into sections, such as silks, Tana Lawn and Sungleam, but since utility fabric had come into force earlier that year it had become the only material customers were interested in, and with such scarce supplies of the rest, everything else had taken a back seat.

  Flo had been sixteen when she had been taken on to work in the stores run by the Liberty’s stalwart Percy Wilmington. Now, eleven years later, she was manager of the department and along the way Liberty’s had been loyal to Flo. They had trained her, promoted her and even gifted her and Neil a gorgeous china dinner service when they wed.

  Rounding the corner of Carnaby Street, the iconic building came into view and Flo couldn’t help but smile as she saw it. The store might not have the queue of Daimlers with chauffeurs opening doors for women draped in fur any more, but it remained every bit as elegant.

  Making her way to the back entrance, she pushed open the heavy wooden door and ran up the stone staircase towards the ladies’ staffroom. The staff quarters were nowhere near as grand as the front of the house, but it made no difference to Flo. She had always loved every part of the store, front or back – in fact Neil used to joke that she would live in Liberty’s if she could. But that was then, and this was now. Liberty’s was just something she had to endure; there was no pleasure to be found in any area of her life any longer.

  Hanging up her coat she checked her appearance in the mirror that hung just beside the door and smoothed an imaginary crease out of the green A-line skirt she had teamed with a paisley print blouse. Satisfied, she opened the door and hurried downstairs, stepping on to the shop floor, where the smell took her breath away. In her three-week absence she had forgotten how the heady combination of furniture polish and wood oil always made her feel at home. Perhaps Dot had known a little of what she was doing after all.

  Breathing in great lungfuls of the familiar scent, she made her way across the atrium towards her department and paused as she drank in the sight that never failed to impress her. Made from two wooden warships, the shop was four storeys high and grouped around three courtyards, which Flo thought, as if realising it for the first time, gave the appearance of medieval inns rather than a shop.

  Elsewhere, stained glass, carved balustrades and the six shields depicting the families of Shakespeare and Sir Thomas More surrounded her. Liberty’s would always be here, she thought, and the idea gave her a drop of comfort as she turned her gaze towards her own department. Her eyes came to rest on a man standing authoritatively by the rolls of the new utility fabric she had been hoping to inspect. He was a stocky man with deep-set brown eyes and an intense brooding look. Flo wondered what the new deputy store manager, Henry Masters, was doing here.

  She knew only scant facts about Mr Masters, as he had joined Liberty’s just a couple of months earlier. He was originally from Yorkshire, in his late thirties and had been brought in by Mr Button, who had worked with him at Bourne and Hollingsworth. They had served together in the army, where Mr Masters had been injured, which was why he hadn’t been called up to serve during the current war. As she watched him lean on his stick, his lame right leg no doubt giving him trouble, Flo saw him run his fingers across each fabric and then pause before holding it up to the light. In that moment she felt uneasy at the level of interest he was taking in her department. She thought back to the speech she had heard Mr Masters make when he joined the store, remembering how he had said he wanted to spend time in each department. Was that what he was doing now?

  ‘Mr Masters, we don’t usually see the deputy poring over the fabrics,’ she said, walking across the floor, unable to stand the suspense any longer.

  The deputy looked up and greeted Flo with a small smile. ‘Morning, Mrs Canning,’ he began in his gruff northern tones. ‘I heard you were coming back today. It’s nice to see you. How are you feeling?’

  Flo felt herself bristling at his kindness. She couldn’t stand anyone being nice to her, not when she didn’t deserve it. ‘I’m fine, thank you, sir. I’m sorry I was away for so long.’

  The deputy store manager waved her concerns away. ‘As long as you’re ready to come back,’ he replied. ‘You should take as much time as you need.’

  ‘Thank you, sir, but I’m fine. You look like you’re keeping yourself busy.’

  ‘I thought it was about time I started looking at the fabrics in the department. As you’ve just had a delivery I thought it was a good opportunity. You don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she said smoothly, ‘but if you had let me know I would have been more than happy to talk you through everything myself; that way you could have got up to speed more quickly.’

  Henry looked up and raised an eyebrow. ‘That was a very polite way of telling me I shouldn’t poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong, Mrs Canning.’

  Flo felt her cheeks flame. ‘Oh no, Mr Masters, sir, I didn’t mean it like that—’

  ‘I’m teasing.’ Henry chuckled. ‘Besides, you’d be well within your rights. I am poking my nose in. When I used to run fabrics for Bourne and Hollingsworth one of my favourite jobs was checking over the new stock. It was thoughtless of me to have jumped in, especially when Mr Button alerted me to the fact that you were returning to work today. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Flo said smoothly. ‘I didn’t realise you had experience of working in fabrics.’

  ‘Many years ago,’ Henry replied, stepping out of Flo’s way. ‘There aren’t too many departments I’ve not worked in, Mrs Canning, and
I do like to maintain a hands-on approach.’

  Flo nodded. ‘I can see why Mr Button wanted you to work with him.’

  ‘Edwin has taught me a lot,’ Henry replied, his eyes crinkling with fondness. ‘Which reminds me, he won’t be in today – or tomorrow in fact; he’s got a lot of meetings.’

  Flo’s face fell. ‘We usually have a meeting about the new range of prints. Is everything all right?’

  Henry nodded, his intense, brooding look returning to his face. ‘Mr Button has asked me to take over his workload for the next few days instead so we can still have a meeting and discuss any plans you might have.’

  ‘Oh.’ Flo felt wrong-footed. She always enjoyed the private chats she and Mr Button had about the department. Not only was her boss always full of good ideas but she had a tendency to think of him as the father she never had, especially as Mr Button had given her away at her wedding.

  ‘Is that a problem, Mrs Canning?’ Henry probed.

  ‘Not at all,’ Flo said brightly, composing herself. ‘I’ll be there at three.’

  Henry frowned. ‘Let’s make it four, shall we? I want to run through the department’s takings again before we meet.’

  ‘All right.’ Flo nodded. With that Henry walked away and Flo couldn’t shake the feeling that although life went on, change was in the air.

  Chapter Three

  Flo was surprised to find she felt slightly nervous as she made her way up the long wooden staircase and then back into the staff area. As she walked through the labyrinth of corridors towards Henry Masters’ office she tried to calm her pounding heart. All day long she had been fretting over what he could possibly want to change in fabrics and as she neared his door she was alarmed to see Marjorie Allan from the ready-to-wear department dabbing her eyes as she hurried past Flo.

  Wiping her sweaty palms discreetly on her skirt, Flo took a deep breath and rapped on the deputy store manager’s door.

  ‘Come in,’ a voice bellowed.

  As Flo pushed open the door to what used to be her office her eyes roamed the room, greedily drinking in every detail. The office looked vastly different from when she had occupied it herself. The desk had been pushed over to the window so it was easier to look out across the rooftops and on to the city beyond, while the pair of hard wooden chairs Flo had always neatly stacked in the corner to create more space were now perched on the other side of the desk. Gesturing for her to take a seat in one of those chairs, Henry cleared his throat and did at least appear to look welcoming.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Mrs Canning,’ he began warmly.

  ‘You’re quite welcome, Mr Masters,’ Flo replied. ‘It’s always a pleasure to discuss the department and any changes we can make to improve life for our customers and our staff.’

  Henry cleared his throat and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. Catching his eye, Flo was alarmed to see he looked as nervous as she felt. His whole demeanour had changed since the morning. He reminded her of a lost little boy, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to lean across the table and give him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder that everything would be all right.

  Clearing his throat once more, Henry steepled his hands together and sat up ramrod straight in his chair.

  ‘This won’t be easy for me to say, Mrs Canning, but I’ve been going through the books and the fabric department is not performing as well as it should.’

  Flo arched an eyebrow. ‘Mr Masters, sir, I don’t wish to sound flippant but with the war I don’t think anyone’s sales have been on the up, yet we have seen an upsurge in our takings since the last quarter. The board and the family are so thrilled that they are treating us to a departmental dinner on Saturday night.’

  Henry held up a hand to silence her. ‘I appreciate that, Mrs Canning. The family and the board all understand that everyone is pulling together and your latest efforts have not gone unnoticed. Yet the store as a whole is not in the shape it needs to be and that’s why we must make changes across every department.’

  ‘What sort of changes?’ Flo asked hotly. She was of course well aware that fabrics wasn’t the department it used to be but who could honestly say business was thriving when the country had been besieged by war for three years now? All the shops as well as Liberty’s were focusing on survival, and Flo thought that she and her team were doing a good enough job at that, especially recently. However, one look at the new deputy’s face told her that was far from the case.

  ‘I know it’s difficult,’ he began earnestly, ‘and you and all the staff here are working incredibly hard under tough circumstances, but the truth is we need to push harder. You must understand that better than anyone, Flo – you after all have sat in this chair.’

  The use of her first name surprised Flo, and she smiled in understanding. Yes, she knew full well the pressure from the family and the board, not to mention juggling the demands of the staff. It was more than a full-time job. There were days she had taken her work home with her as she tried to make sense of sales charts and keep on top of the paperwork, causing her Aunt Aggie to roll her eyes and tell her to get out and enjoy life while she was still young.

  ‘What is it you want to change?’ she asked softly.

  ‘We need to look at the stock we’re selling more closely,’ Henry explained, his voice calmer now. ‘Customers might like to look at as much as we can offer them but let’s be honest: the scrap of silk we have left is never likely to be sold and it’s taking up valuable shop space. Far better to go through the books each week and see exactly what’s sold and place anything that’s unpopular in the stockroom. I know Liberty’s is based on beauty, Flo, but war’s not beautiful and we need to be more practical.’

  ‘I can’t say I disagree,’ Flo said sadly. ‘It’s something that had crossed my mind, but I didn’t dare suggest it to anyone for fear of uproar from customers and staff.’

  Henry laughed. ‘Well, you can put the blame squarely on my shoulders.’

  ‘Is that all you wanted to discuss?’ Flo asked hopefully.

  ‘I’m afraid there’s more. I want to put an end to staff taking Saturdays off. I know employees have always been able to have one in four weekends off but it’s our busiest shopping day and I want all hands to the pumps so we can take as much money as possible.’

  ‘That won’t go down well with the girls,’ Flo said.

  Henry said nothing. Instead he drummed his stout fingers across the desk as he appeared to be trying to work out what he wanted to say next.

  ‘Go on,’ Flo coaxed, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

  ‘I’m afraid, too, that I’ll need you to let one of your girls go.’

  Flo stared at the deputy manager in disbelief. ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I need you to let one of your employees go, Mrs Canning,’ Henry repeated. ‘I’m asking almost all the other departments to do the same.’

  ‘But why?’ Flo asked. ‘Everyone in fabrics is rushed off their feet as it is. We won’t manage if we have to lose a member of staff.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Flo, truly I do,’ Henry said. ‘But the board is looking to make cutbacks, everything is so expensive and with turnover nowhere near what it was, we need to look at rationing where we can.’

  Alarm flooded through Flo as she digested this news. She only had Dot, Alice, Mary and Jean as it was. The idea of losing any of them was unthinkable.

  ‘Surely there must be another way,’ Flo protested. ‘What about if we lower the commission or give everyone a pay cut?’

  Henry leaned forward in his chair and shook his head. ‘We can’t ask people to work for less than they do already; the prestige of working for Liberty’s is one thing but it’s well known our rate of pay isn’t as high as other stores. That prestige will only go so far if we start asking people to accept less in pay or commission.’

  ‘What does Mr Button say?’ Flo asked. ‘I can’t believe he would think this was a good idea.’

  ‘If Mr Button were here he would
say exactly the same thing,’ Henry said in a firm voice. ‘In fact this was his idea; I just happened to agree with it.’

  ‘Well, where is he?’ Flo said. ‘I’d quite like to hear this from the horse’s mouth, if it’s all the same to you.’

  For a moment Henry looked as if he were about to lash out at Flo, but instead he sighed and gazed out across the rooftops. Flo watched him, suddenly worried she had gone too far.

  ‘He’s going to be away from the store a lot,’ Henry said eventually. ‘He’s been asked by the Board of Trade to become a consultant on all things utility as they look to expand the model.’

  ‘Oh,’ Flo replied, feeling wrong-footed. One of the main reasons she had been drawn to returning was the comforting presence of her store manager. ‘So you’re in charge then?’

  Henry returned his gaze to Flo and looked at her as if daring her to challenge him. ‘Is that a problem?’

  Flo shook her head. ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Good, so can you let me know who you wish to let go as soon as possible. I’ll need to make the changes as quickly as I can for maximum efficiency.’

  ‘So who do you suggest I get rid of?’ Flo asked. ‘They are all wonderful workers.’

  Henry shrugged. ‘That’s a matter for you to decide. I’m sorry but you will know who the department can best manage without.’

  ‘Surely there must be some other way?’ Flo tried again. ‘Isn’t there another department they could join?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was softer now, and Flo could tell he was upset about this too. ‘I wish there was. The board and I have been through the figures and are all agreed that this is the only way to ensure the survival of Liberty’s.’