Wartime at Liberty's

by Fiona Ford

  Flo looked down at her hands, unable to face her friends. ‘I can’t. Singing now just reminds me of how I lied to Neil, when I knew that it was the one thing he wouldn’t tolerate. Just the thought of singing makes me feel as if I’ve let him down. I can’t do it again. I won’t.’

  ‘You can’t stop doing something just because your husband didn’t approve,’ Alice insisted. ‘Luke didn’t like me doing so many extra things after work, did he, when he turned up this year? But he had his own set of secrets he was keeping from me.’

  ‘What’s your point, Alice? I don’t see how this situation with Neil is the same.’

  ‘I’m not saying it is,’ Alice replied patiently. ‘What I am saying is that our menfolk often have their own problems they try to make ours. You’ve said Neil didn’t want you singing because it reminded him of what happened with his mother. Well, you weren’t his mother—’

  ‘No, you were his wife, and as such he should have treated you with a bit more care.’ Dot thundered, cutting across Alice. ‘I know he’s dead and all that, Flo, and no you shouldn’t have lied like you did, but bloody hell, we all make mistakes, your Neil included, so forgive yourself.’

  ‘What I’m trying to say,’ Alice continued, shooting Dot a warning glance, ‘is that sometimes working out what’s best for you isn’t necessarily what’s best for your husband.’

  ‘And that means they have to lump it,’ Dot put in. ‘Isn’t that right, Bess? I’m sure you’ve told a fella or two where to go in your time.’

  Jean raised an eyebrow as Bess leaned back in her chair, eyes filled with amusement. ‘I don’t know what you think I am, Dot, but I can tell you that yes, I’ve told a fella or two what I think of them now and again. It’s the only way with ’em. Ladies are much easier. You can’t talk to a fella; they don’t understand.’

  ‘Quite,’ Jean added. ‘But I do think the world’s changing. I mean, look at us all now doing the jobs of fellas. We’ve every right to be listened to; they should know that.’

  ‘Good Lord.’ Mary laughed. ‘It’s like the Liberty’s branch of marriage guidance in here this morning.’

  ‘Speaking of which, how are you getting on with your marriage plans?’ Dot asked, changing the subject. ‘Do I need to put a date in my diary yet or are you and David still mucking about?’

  Mary rolled her eyes and Flo felt glad for a moment that the attention was off her. Things had started to feel a bit uncomfortable and much as she appreciated her friends’ support she was glad of a break.

  ‘Yes, we have set a date. Invitations will follow shortly.’

  ‘Well, when is it?’ Alice demanded, a lock of blonde hair falling from the turban on her head. ‘I hope it’s not next week; you need to give us time to start altering frocks and whatnot.’

  ‘We’ve decided on January.’ Mary beamed.

  Flo clapped her hands together in delight. ‘Ooh, a winter wedding.’

  ‘Well, about flipping time.’ Dot smiled. ‘We shall all be there cheering you on in the front row, won’t we, girls?’

  Alice giggled. ‘It’s not a night at the Palladium, Dot. But you’re quite right, we will be there cheering you with bells on, Mary. The question is, will we all be able to get the time off work?’

  As all faces swivelled towards Flo, she rolled her eyes. ‘I’m sure something can be arranged.’

  Dot slammed her hands on the table and got to her feet. ‘Well, I’m pleased we’ve sorted that out. And, Flo,’ she said, fixing her gaze on the fabric manager, ‘stop torturing yourself like this. You made a mistake, but that mistake doesn’t mean you and Neil never loved each other and it doesn’t mean you have to give up on your dreams.’

  Chapter Eight

  Several days later, Flo was back on the shop floor elbow-deep in paperwork. She didn’t want to sing again, the talk with her friends hadn’t changed that, but she did know she needed a distraction from the endless grief and so she resolved to throw herself into her work.

  After all, there was still so much to think about, not least whom she was going to let go from the department. She shivered at the thought. Whilst Flo had been put in the unfortunate position of sacking someone before, she had never had to do so for no good reason. Now, as she saw Jean walk across the department floor, her heart sank. She knew what she had to do and there was no point putting it off any longer.

  The fairest and perhaps only way to let someone go was to get rid of the newest employee. Last in, first out. Only now as saw Jean hurry towards her, dressed simply in a knitted twinset and A-line skirt, hair skilfully curled into a victory roll, Flo felt as if she had an aviary of birds flying about in her stomach. Was she really going to do this?

  Clearing her throat, she smiled nervously at Jean. ‘Have you got a moment? I need to talk to you about something.’

  Jean smiled back. ‘Yes of course.’

  ‘Let’s go down to the stockroom,’ Flo offered, deliberately ignoring the inquisitive glances of Alice and Mary.

  As she made her way down the stairs to the stockroom, Flo squared her shoulders and willed herself to be brave. Jean was a young, capable woman and she would understand.

  Gesturing for Jean to sit on a box opposite her, Flo smiled again and did her best to put herself and Jean at ease.

  ‘As you may know, Jean, with the war on now, Liberty’s, in fact all stores, are not doing as well as they were.’

  ‘I know,’ Jean sighed. ‘But what can we do? Should we try a special promotion or something? The new prints have been doing well; is there something we can do to push those a bit more?’

  Flo shook her head. ‘The family and the board don’t want us to think about promotions, they want us to cut our staff numbers.’

  ‘Cut our staff numbers?’ Jean echoed, her eyes filled with confusion.

  ‘That’s right,’ Flo continued, her voice shaking. ‘Every department has been asked to lose at least one member of staff to try and save the store money.’

  ‘Oh no, Flo, that’s terrible,’ Jean cried. ‘Do you know who you’ll get rid of from fabrics?’

  At the look of earnestness on Jean’s face it was all Flo could do to stop herself weeping at the situation she found herself in. ‘Yes, Jean, I do know, and I’m sorry to say that the decision has been made to let you go.’

  Jean’s mouth fell open in shock. ‘Me? But what have I done?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Flo blurted. ‘Absolutely nothing at all. You’re a wonderful member of staff and I hate to lose you. I’ll give you a glowing reference for your next job. But someone had to leave, and I couldn’t decide who, so it seemed the only fair way to do it was to let the person go who had joined us most recently.’

  Jean nodded miserably, taking in the news.

  ‘We, all of us, I mean, are devastated by this,’ Flo babbled. ‘I want you to know I’ll do all I can to help you find something else, and of course you and Bess won’t be homeless, you can stay at my house, regardless of how long it takes for you to get work elsewhere.’

  Jean lifted her head sharply from the floor causing a lock of hair to fall forward from her victory roll. ‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Me and Bess have always paid our own way and we won’t stop now. You’ll get your rent on time as you always do, and don’t worry about helping me get something else either, I’ll take care of myself.’

  ‘Jean please,’ Flo begged as Jean turned to walk away.

  But Jean shook her off as she hurried up the stairs. ‘I’ll go and get my things, Mrs Canning. Don’t worry, I’ll be gone in minutes.’

  As Flo took in the sight of Jean’s retreating figure she hated herself. Why did she feel as if she was getting everything so wrong at the moment?

  The rest of the day passed slowly. Flo broke the news to Henry quietly and matter-of-factly. He merely nodded his head and slipped an envelope across the table to Flo with Jean’s final wages and a bit extra for the inconvenience.

  With closing time fast approaching, Flo found herself breat
hing a sigh of relief. It had been a terrible day and one she longed to see the back of. She had told the rest of the girls, quickly and efficiently, and to their credit they must have sensed she didn’t want to talk about it, as they had merely nodded and said how sorry they all were.

  It had been a blessing, yet when she saw Bess dressed in her brown overalls and khaki woollen overcoat stomping across the floor towards her, a part of her wasn’t surprised.

  Reaching the till that Flo was standing behind, Flo could see Bess’s eyes were narrowed with anger and her whole face was flushed red.

  ‘How could you?’ she growled. ‘How could you sack Jean?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ Flo began. ‘I didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘You didn’t have a choice about sacking someone, or you didn’t have a choice about sacking Jean? There’s a big difference there,’ Bess thundered.

  ‘I had to pick someone,’ Flo explained, doing her best to try and stay calm. ‘I didn’t want to sack anyone, and so I thought the fairest way was to pick the girl who had joined us last.’

  Bess raised an eyebrow. ‘The fairest thing? Surely the fairest thing would be to choose someone who was bad at their job and that certainly wouldn’t be Jean. She’s been with you through thick and thin; when you had that trouble earlier in the year with that old manager – Mrs Claremont – she was loyal as hell to the fabric department, and when you were getting stitched up by her as well it was Jean that found the evidence you needed to get you off the hook. She’s that upset by the way she’s been treated she’s traipsed all the way over to the factory in Hayes to cry on my shoulder. Now I’m here to tell you what I think of your behaviour.’

  Flo stared helplessly at Bess; she couldn’t disagree. ‘I hate this as much as you do. Jean was a wonderful part of the fabric department, a truly valued member of staff; my hands were tied.’

  ‘Were they?’ Bess protested. ‘I mean, you could have sacked yourself.’

  ‘The idea did cross my mind,’ Flo admitted.

  ‘But then you thought Jean was a better bet.’

  Glancing over Bess’s shoulder, Flo saw an approaching customer back away.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ Flo began, lowering her voice. ‘I know this isn’t easy but I will help Jean look for something else. And of course I don’t expect full rent from either of you while she doesn’t have a job.’

  ‘Oh, that’s big of you,’ Bess snapped. ‘But we don’t need your charity.’

  ‘I’m not trying to offer you charity, Bess,’ Flo said wearily. ‘I’m trying to do what’s right.’

  Bess leaned forward; she was so close Flo could feel the warmth of her breath against her skin. ‘That girl means the world to me, you understand? The world. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her, and while I’d very much like to tell you where to shove your offer of help, neither one of us can afford to and Jean knows that as well as I do, so I’ll say thank you, yes please and flamin’ well find her something where she ain’t gonna get sacked in the next five minutes.’

  Flo was slightly shocked at the way Bess didn’t mince her words, but if truth were told she thought she had it coming.

  ‘Well, I’m pleased to hear that,’ she said evenly. ‘I’ll start putting the word out immediately. Try not to worry.’

  But Bess had already turned on her heel and stalked back across the floor leaving Flo all alone.

  Chapter Nine

  A feeling of dread enveloped Flo as she got up the next morning and thought about the day ahead at Liberty’s. The last thing she felt like doing was going into work. Her gaze strayed to the photo of Neil she kept beside her bed. Running a finger across his face, Flo felt the tears well. She longed to talk to him more than anything in the world. He always knew just the right thing to say to make her feel better and as she stared into his blue-green eyes, she felt her loss as keenly as if Neil had just died. He had been her best friend as well as her husband and not for the first time she wondered just how she was supposed to live without him.

  Hearing movement downstairs, she quickly roused herself and got ready. Surprisingly, she arrived at Liberty’s early and shucked off her coat and bag, storing them in her small locker. Checking her appearance in the mirror that hung in the ladies’ staffroom, it was no surprise to discover that after a night of no sleep, the bags under her eyes hung as heavy as lead, and her eyes looked like pins in one of Liberty’s pin cushions.

  Emerging from the staffroom Flo made her way down the stairs, only to see Henry up ahead of her.

  ‘Hello, sir,’ she called politely.

  Henry turned around and raised an eyebrow at Flo. ‘You don’t look like a woman ready to take on the world.’

  Flo smiled weakly. ‘The only thing I feel ready to take on is a cup of tea.’

  ‘It’s horrible sacking someone who doesn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.’

  Flo shrugged. ‘I suppose it couldn’t be helped. I could have done without Bess turning up here late last night shouting the odds, though I can’t say I blame her.’

  ‘Well, I can, this wasn’t your choice,’ Henry said with a frown. ‘Bess should understand that.’

  ‘People protect those they love, don’t they?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Henry sighed. ‘But listen, Flo, if you need any help you know where I am.’

  Before she had time to reply, he had gone back up the stairs, and she made her way to fabrics. As usual she had a lot of paperwork to catch up on, and before she knew it, a whole hour had passed and it was time for the shop to open.

  Stuffing the paperwork under the till as Dreary Deirdre completed the last of her morning checks, Flo stood ready to welcome customers when the department phone rang – it was the superintendent’s office.

  ‘Just to let you know that Mary Holmes-Fotherington won’t be in today,’ came a plummy voice down the line. ‘She is most unwell with stomach influenza and sends her apologies.’

  ‘Right, of course,’ Flo replied. ‘Thank you for letting me know.’

  Replacing the receiver, Flo let out a large sigh. Her heart went out to her friend – Mary was never sick – but equally she knew she would now be short-staffed until the early afternoon when Alice was due in. However were they going to manage?

  Her eyes landed on the rolls of utility fabric that had been so popular recently. Customers hadn’t stopped coming in and buying reams of the material ready for the winter season. Today was Saturday, one of the busiest shopping days of the week; there was no way she was going to manage alone until Alice arrived.

  As the first few customers snaked their way through the store, Flo drummed her fingers against the lined wooden desk and thought quickly. She couldn’t ask anyone in neighbouring gifts or jewellery to help out; they were as short-staffed as she was since the cuts. Only yesterday the queues in gifts had been coming out of the door as they tried to keep up with demand on skeleton staff.

  The anger Flo felt at having to let go a valued staff member rose as her thoughts landed on Henry Masters. This was all his fault, she thought uncharitably; he could fix it. With that in mind, an idea bloomed and Flo lifted the telephone receiver to speak directly to his office.

  He answered on the first ring, and Flo made her request. There was a brief pause, and then a small chuckle as Henry told her he would be down to the shop floor immediately.

  Almost as good as his word he arrived fifteen minutes later, just as Flo was saying goodbye to a regular customer.

  ‘I thought you said you were rushed off your feet?’ Henry said, looking doubtfully around the almost empty shop floor.

  Flo lifted her wrist to check her watch. ‘We will be. This is the quiet before the storm, Mr Masters. In around twenty minutes we shall have the pre-elevenses shoppers, keen to browse and perhaps keen to spend.’

  ‘You do know your department, don’t you?’

  ‘I make it my business to know everything about it,’ she replied, her tone grave. ‘It’s not just a department; it’s a way of life f
or us girls. We live and breathe the fabrics here.’

  Henry had the good grace to look bashful. ‘I apologise. Now, how can I help?’

  Flo felt a sudden flash of inspiration. ‘I’ll need you to get back to your roots, Mr Masters,’ she said finally, her eyes focusing on a customer heading towards them. ‘You told me how you used to be a sales assistant in fabrics many years ago; I need you to be a sales assistant again.’

  If Henry was surprised at the instruction he didn’t show it. Instead he walked across the floor, approached the customer who was now looking at the rolls of popular print and made a point of asking what she was hoping to make.

  As the morning wore on, Flo was right about the surge of customers all looking to find the perfect print for the perfect pattern they had their eye on. For the next two hours Flo and Henry worked side by side, offering advice, suggesting appropriate accessories, and cutting fabric precisely in a way that meant very little waste. As Henry cut a weighted woollen fabric for his customer, she watched impressed as his scissors sliced through the fabric as if it were butter and then he accurately measured and priced, all with a smile on his face. Deep down Flo knew that it wasn’t his choice to sack Jean and that he was just acting on instructions from higher up. Perhaps it was time to forgive and forget.

  ‘Now do come again, Mrs Withers,’ said Henry as he rang through her sale and simultaneously handed her the copy of her sales order. ‘You will look marvellous in that palm-leaf print, the belle of the ball.’

  The elderly Mrs Withers let out a laugh so high-pitched it rang in Flo’s ears. ‘Now, now, Mr Henry, I’m old enough to be your mother.’

  A look of horror passed across his face. ‘Not at all, Mrs Withers, not at all, my sister perhaps, but certainly not my mother, I won’t have it.’

  Another tinkling laugh left Mrs Withers’ mouth and Flo found herself wincing at Henry’s obvious but clearly calculated approach to customers.

  ‘Oh Mr Henry, I shall come and see you again.’ The older woman giggled in a girlish fashion. ‘You are a tonic.’