by Fiona Ford
Stunned, Flo couldn’t believe what she was hearing – she had grown up listening to Max Monroe. Aggie had adored his records and together they had danced to them in the kitchen, singing along. Those had been some of the happiest times of her life, and now to think that she was going to get a chance to meet the man behind the music! She couldn’t believe it and wished with all her heart that Aggie were alive to see this moment. She would have been over the moon; with a smile Flo imagined her dancing in the aisles of the Palladium as Max performed his famous hit ‘Lullaby of the Night’.
‘Really? But why would he want to sing for our gala night?’ Flo asked.
‘Because he will be at home on leave and thinks it will be a wonderful fundraiser.’ Evie sighed. ‘Really, Flo, I thought you would be delighted rather than be asking me all these questions.’
‘It’s wonderful,’ Flo admitted. ‘I’m just a little surprised. That doesn’t tell me why you’re looking at pattern books, however.’
‘We’re going to make him a suit out of Liberty print for his performance!’ Evie gushed. ‘What better advertisement for Liberty’s and show of support for Mr Monroe?’
Flo had to admit it was an inspired idea. But why hadn’t Mr Button consulted her? Not only was she in charge of the fabric department but she was also on the fundraising gala committee.
‘We thought Dorothy and Alice might like to run it up,’ Evie said loudly, ‘they’re such talented seamstresses.’
‘With an awful lot on their plate,’ Flo pointed out.
Just then Dot, who had clearly had enough of standing back waiting to find out what was going on, joined them, hands on hips, looking for all the world as if she meant business. ’Did I hear my and Alice’s names being taken in vain?’
‘We were just saying what talented seamstresses you are. Edwin and I—’
‘What the hell’s Edwin got to do with me being good at sewing?’ Dot snapped. ‘And I should say it’s Mr Button to you, you’re not at the Board of Trade now, we’re on the shop floor, lady.’
Flo tried not to laugh. Evie had such an air of arrogance about her.
‘There’s no need to talk to me like that, Dorothy, I was trying to pay you a compliment.’
‘Like hell you were,’ Dot muttered under her breath, before she caught the warning glance Flo gave her. ‘What has me and Alice being good at sewing got to do with anything anyway?’
‘We were just saying that Max Monroe is going to perform at the fundraiser,’ Flo put in quickly before Evie could upset Dot any further. ‘Mr Button thought we could make him a utility suit out of Liberty fabric as a thank you …’
‘And an advertisement,’ Evie put in sagely.
Dot nodded, her mouth pressed into a firm line as she looked between Flo and Evie. ‘And you want us to knock up this suit, do you? Out of the goodness of our hearts, even though Max Monroe can clearly afford to have his own suits made?’
‘Well, really.’ Evie tutted. ‘I would have thought you would have wanted to help the war effort. Edwin’s always saying how enthusiastic you are to help, but your attitude leaves a lot to be desired. I shall have to tell Edwin he’s got the wrong woman.’
‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Dot spat, drawing herself up to her full height. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at him, darlin’. Where’s your respect? You’re all but flinging yourself at him night and day.’
‘How dare you!’ Evie thundered. ‘I’m a respectable widow with all my morals very firmly intact, thank you. I’ve met women like you before, nothing but troublemakers. And if Edwin did have designs on me, who could blame him?’
Dot threw her head back and cackled with laughter. ‘Oh darlin’, the only designs he’s got on you are ones for your funeral corsage. You’re that old, it’s a wonder you’re still standing!’
‘Why, you—’ Evie began, taking a step towards Dot only for Flo to step between them.
‘Ladies, please,’ she hissed. ‘That is quite enough. If the two of you want to brawl like a pair of alley cats then take it outside and do it in the street where you belong. But I will not have this on the shop floor. You should both know better.’
‘She started it,’ Dot snarled, nostrils flaring.
‘I don’t care who started it,’ Flo said, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘You’ll stop it immediately before the store opens. Any more of this carry-on and you’ll both be out of a job.’
With that the warring women turned away from one another.
‘Sorry, Flo,’ Dot said.
‘Yes, sorry, Flo,’ Evie whispered.
‘I should think so,’ Flo growled. ‘Max Monroe is due to be the entertainment, not you two. Now, Evie, down to the stockroom to sort out the right fabric for the suit. Dot, I want you over at the Counting House looking through our invoices for the month so the paperwork’s ready for filing.’
At the instructions both women’s faces fell, but there was something in Flo’s steely gaze that told them not to argue. As they shuffled off to their respective posts Flo let out a shaky breath. That feeling of lightness had been wonderful while it lasted.
Chapter Nineteen
Flo was glad when lunchtime arrived and she could take a well-earned break. Despite her warnings the petty arguing between Evie and Dot had barely stopped all morning and she had felt as though most of her time had been spent keeping an eye on the two women, rather than concentrating on the fabrics in her charge.
Flo felt the crisp breeze ruffling her hair as she walked through the streets of Soho. She hoped the fresh air might clear her head. Slumping on a bench in Golden Square she watched passers-by scurry past, all in a rush to get somewhere. Flo had half an hour left of her lunch break and was determined to make the most of it, rather than hurrying back.
She had once loved everything about her job at Liberty’s but she realised she was fast falling out of love with the store. It pained her to admit it, but it was the truth. Her role felt more like a job than a labour of love, with problem after problem to resolve. The constant arguing between Evie and Dot didn’t help and she wasn’t relishing the idea of returning for the afternoon.
Leaning back against the bench, a woman rushing through the square caught her eye. As she neared Flo could see it was Jean, walking in the direction of the store.
‘Jean!’ Flo stood up and waved to attract her attention. ‘Are you all right?’
As the young woman approached, Flo could see her face was flushed red with excitement.
‘I was just on my way to see you. I wanted to let you know the latest.’
‘Go on,’ Flo coaxed.
‘Bess is being discharged from hospital; she’s going into a convalescent home.’
A burst of excitement coursed through Flo’s body. It was about time there was some good news.
‘That’s wonderful. When? Where?’
‘She’s being discharged the day after tomorrow and is moving to the home just up the road from your house in Islington so I’ll be able to move back in with you if you’ll have me.’
‘Well of course!’ Flo beamed. ‘It will be wonderful to have you home.’
‘It also means I can come back to Liberty’s part-time now too.’
‘That’ll be a relief.’ Flo sighed, thinking of Dot and Evie at one another’s throats. Perhaps there was a way she could ensure they were never on the same shift if Jean was returning part-time. ‘I’m thrilled for you both. Is Bess happy?’
Jean sat next to Flo, her woollen coat pulled up high around her neck to keep out the chill.
‘Depends what you call happy,’ Jean admitted. ‘She’s worried about money now she knows she can’t go back to the munitions factory, and she’s grieving for the loss of her hand.’
‘I do understand but people cope with worse,’ Flo said matter-of-factly. ‘I know that might sound harsh, Jean, but Bess was lucky compared to a lot of people. Her skin’s on the way to healing nicely now, and she will get used to life without her hand. Bess is resilient.�
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‘I know,’ Jean sighed, ‘it’s just she’s so capable and she’s always been the one to take care of me. Now it’s me looking after her, it feels wrong somehow. Bess really needs my help and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to give it to her.’
Flo rested a hand on Jean’s forearm. ‘You’re stronger than you think. Look at how you found the courage to stand up to Mrs Claremont, and look at how you’ve been by Bess’s side since her accident. You’ve given up your job, your home, and you leapt to her aid. That’s strength, Jean. She’s your sister and you’re showing her pure love.’
There was a pause then as an embarrassed flush crept up Jean’s neck at Flo’s words.
‘I’d do anything for her.’
‘And that’s all she needs to hear,’ Flo soothed. ‘Trust me, just knowing you’re there for her is all Bess wants.’
Jean’s news gave Flo a much-needed boost after a difficult morning, and even though the grey November clouds had given way to rain, Flo was feeling a little more like her old self.
Making her way back to the shop floor after lunch, Flo was in such a hurry to check Evie and Dot hadn’t murdered one another by the rayons that she almost collided into Henry on the stairs.
‘Careful,’ he admonished as Flo knocked him with her elbow.
‘Sorry,’ she said, feeling breathless. ‘I didn’t see you.’
‘Clearly.’ He smiled, rubbing his elbow. ‘In a rush?’
‘Just eager to get on with work,’ Flo replied.
‘Well, if you have five minutes could you come up to my office?’ Henry asked.
Flo frowned. ‘Sounds ominous.’
‘It’s not.’ Henry laughed. ‘Won’t take long.’
Realising she had very little choice, Flo followed her boss back up the stairs and together they made their way through the labyrinth of corridors that led to Henry’s office.
‘Sit down,’ he said, clearing away a pile of guard books that covered the chair opposite.
Flo did as instructed and sat with her hands folded in her lap as Henry took a seat behind his desk.
‘I’ve been doing some thinking,’ he went on.
‘Oh yes?’
‘About you. Well, about your musical talents really,’ he continued.
Holding her hands up to stop him right there, Flo shook her head. ‘Mr Masters, really, that’s very kind of you but you don’t have to worry about anything like that.’
‘I’m not worrying,’ he replied. ‘But I’ve been thinking how music has obviously helped you feel better during some very difficult moments in life. If you don’t mind me saying so, I do think it’s a shame you don’t want to sing any more but I understand. However, playing the piano is clearly good for you. I watched you last Sunday and you were a natural; the music transported you to another world.’
Flo looked at him in surprise. That had been the last thing she had expected him to say.
‘Well, thank you,’ she said eventually. ‘And it’s true I enjoy it, but I’m not going to be singing at the fundraiser if that’s what you’re getting at. Rose has already given me a hard time over it.’
Sensing her discomfort, Henry waved his hands in despair. ‘Oh Flo, sorry, I’m making a real hash of this, aren’t I? Let me start again. Stan’s school are desperate for someone to play piano for their music lessons. They are horribly short-staffed and I wondered if you wouldn’t mind helping them out? As you know the board is keen for employees to lend a hand in the community and this fits the bill perfectly. It would be one or two lunchtimes a week.’
As Henry brought his speech to a close, Flo looked into his eyes and could see how much this meant to him. She realised that she was not only flattered to be asked, but that this could also be a very good thing for her too. Henry was right; she missed being involved in music. At the rehearsal she had enjoyed losing herself in the melodies she played, and it had been enough of a salve to provide temporary relief from her pain. It seemed like the perfect opportunity – but there was also her job to consider. She wasn’t just a sales girl; she was department manager.
‘I just saw Jean outside,’ she said carefully. ‘She says Bess will be discharged into a convalescent home nearby the day after tomorrow and she thinks she might be able to return part-time.’
Henry’s face lit up at the news. ‘Well, that’s wonderful. And of course it means we would be able to spare you to take time off and help out at the school. And before you ask, I’ve spoken to Mr Button and he too thinks it’s an excellent idea.’
A smile crept across Flo’s lips. ‘All right then.’
Henry slapped his hand on the desk in excitement and got to his feet. ‘Excellent. Can you start tomorrow? One o’clock sharp? After the children’s lunch?’
‘All right,’ Flo nodded.
‘And you’ll be reporting to Mrs Hallam. She doubles as the singing teacher. Should have been on the stage, in my opinion, but she’ll show you the ropes.’
Infused by Mr Masters’ excitement, Flo got to her feet with a huge grin on her face. ‘Thank you, I appreciate this.’
As she walked out of the door and down to the fabric department, Flo felt her spirits lift. She hadn’t realised she had been looking for another challenge to throw herself into, but now it was here, she felt it could be just what she needed.
Chapter Twenty
It was a very gusty and cold Tuesday lunchtime that saw Flo make her school debut as pianist. Pushing open the wooden double doors that formed the main entrance to the school, she was surprised to find she felt oddly nervous. She had been plagued with doubt on the bus all the way to Catford, wondering what she would do if she didn’t know the songs. What if the children laughed and pointed at her?
Walking down the corridor towards the hall Flo mentally kicked herself. She would send herself around the bend if she carried on like this. Where was her gumption? She turned the corner and saw Mrs Hallam up ahead, who waved and smiled, and Flo found herself relaxing. There was something instantly comforting about the older woman.
‘Flo, love, it’s good to see you,’ she said, immediately linking her arm through Flo’s.
‘And you, Mrs Hallam.’ Flo smiled. ‘Thanks for inviting me.’
‘My pleasure, and please call me Celia when we’re not in front of the kids,’ she replied over the din of the dinner bell. ‘Though it’s me that should be thanking you, especially because there’s every chance you might change your mind when you hear the little darlings sing.’
Flo made a face. ‘Are they that bad?’
‘Depends if you like the sound of a bag of cats being half strangled to death.’ Celia chuckled. ‘No, I’m being unkind. That’s not fair on cats. To be honest, Flo, some of them are all right, but we’ve got through that many piano players in the last few months that our lessons have been sporadic at best.’
‘Well, I’m here to remedy that,’ Flo said politely.
Celia raised an eyebrow as she led Flo into a large hall. ‘Piano’s over there, love – all tuned up she is, if you want to go and familiarise yourself. I’ll fetch the hordes.’
With that Celia left and Flo sat down on the hard wooden stool. She lifted the lid of the battered wooden upright and traced her fingers across the keys before leaping into ‘Three Blind Mice’, the song she always liked to warm up with. The moment she struck that first key, she felt as if she had come home, and she lost herself in the music just as she had at the fundraiser rehearsal. The sound of the simple melody lifted her heart and for a moment there was no loss of Aggie and Neil to grieve over, no Liberty’s, no Bess, Jean or any of the other girls to think about, there was just the music.
All too soon the sound of excited chatter lifted her from her own world and brought her back to reality as a group of about twenty children filed into the room. Reluctantly Flo stopped playing and smiled at the children as Celia arranged them in a small group to the side of her.
‘Now, I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you,’ Celia exclaimed. ‘Mrs
Canning has agreed to come and play piano for us two days a week. I would like you to give Mrs Canning a very warm Sandhurst Road welcome by putting your hands together.’
The children applauded so noisily, the sound of clapping echoed around the room. Flo beamed and bowed her head at their smiling faces. Spotting Stan in the front, clapping harder than any of them, she gave him a little wave, which made him smile even harder.
‘Thank you, children!’ Celia, beaming, interrupted the applause. ‘Now, today I thought we would start with “The Holly and the Ivy” for the end-of-term assembly. Are you ready?’
The children nodded and Celia turned and raised her eyebrows at Flo. Hurriedly she rifled through the battered sheet music that stood on the music rest. It was a folk song she knew well, and as soon as her fingers struck the keys she was able to switch off and let her hands do the work. Turning her gaze towards Celia and the children she was surprised to find they were quite good. Henry had been right about Celia too: she had an exceptional voice. Flo wondered if she had received training – she certainly seemed to know what she was doing and, best of all, she was inspiring the children to perform as well as they could.
Watching Celia now, who was smiling at the kids with encouragement, Flo was struck with that same feeling she had experienced the last time she had met her. She couldn’t work out if it was Celia’s smile, her mannerisms, or if she just had one of those faces that seemed familiar.
By the time her hour was up, Flo was surprised to find how much she had enjoyed herself. Stan had stood up and given her a clap and then the rest of the children had followed suit. Flushed with pleasure she waved them goodbye and told them all how much she was looking forward to seeing them in a couple of days.
‘That went well,’ Celia said as the last of the children filed through the doors.
Flo shut the lid of the piano. ‘It did, didn’t it?’