Wartime at Liberty's

by Fiona Ford

  ‘And you,’ said Max. ‘Now, if you’re a singer, how about you join me for a song?’

  At the request, Celia’s eyes widened in amazement and Flo thought she might pass out on the spot. In that moment a memory of Aggie came to mind, and Flo couldn’t help wondering if she might have behaved in the same way – she had been such a huge fan.

  ‘Are you sure, Mr Monroe?’ Celia asked, finding her voice eventually. ‘I mean, I just sing with school kids.’

  ‘I’m more than sure,’ Max replied, flashing her a devastating smile.

  Turning to Flo, who had seated herself at the tiny piano, which had been hauled into the corner of the room, he nodded and instinctively she began to play ‘ My Kind of Romance’.

  As usual Flo lost herself in the music, and found that she was enjoying watching Max and Celia perform together. Celia really was a natural, whether she was singing with a roomful of schoolchildren or with an international star. She had a presence like no other and as she hit the high notes, Flo felt a stirring within her. She hadn’t felt this way since she used to watch Aggie sing, so confident, so capable that she caused a stir wherever she went. Flo closed her eyes and enjoyed the rich sound of Celia’s voice. For a second it felt as though her aunt was still alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The next week at work, Flo felt happier than she had in months. As she took her turn to serve her favourite customer, Mrs Rodgers, she felt a spring in her step.

  With no customers on the shop floor, Alice and Dot sorting out the patterns and thread reels, and Rose running through the inventory, Flo decided to take advantage of the lull and go through the department accounts. Since Max Monroe had been seen coming into the store word had got round and there had been an upsurge in trade with many female customers wanting the chance to meet Max as he arrived for a suit fitting. Dot and Alice had toiled for hours on end after work on the suit, with baby Arthur often in his pram snoring away beside them. After the rehearsal last night they had finally presented the suit to him, and had been delighted to find that he was thrilled and very grateful for the work the girls had put in.

  Now, as Flo reached for the paperwork underneath the till, she began to make her way through the figures. It was a laborious task, but Flo found that it was nice to concentrate her mind on something other than all the doom and gloom that had worked its way into her life of late.

  Running her finger down the row of figures, she was pleased to see that the department takings were up from the last quarter, a fact that would please Mr Button and the board. Yet turning the page, she frowned as she saw the princely sum of one hundred pounds had been taken from their earnings and approved by the Counting House.

  This made no sense at all. Money was meant to come into the department not go out, unless it was for simple petty cash items like stamps and stationery. Why would the Counting House have agreed to pay out that amount of money? Turning back to the figures, she saw the initials scrawled next to it – EA – and felt a flash of anger. So this was something Evie had been involved with? What was she up to? She should know full well that anything unusual like that had to be run past Flo first.

  Slamming the book shut, Flo shoved it under the drawer and was just about to make her way up to see Mr Button and demand some answers when the sight of Mary leaning against the wooden doorway took her breath away. She wasn’t due to work until this afternoon, having taken the morning off to see the council for one last visit before the wedding and then the adoption was finalised.

  She looked lost, scared and as if she had been crying. Flo rushed to her side. ‘Mary love, what’s happened?’

  ‘It’s David, and Mrs Matravers,’ she said haltingly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Flo demanded. ‘Sorry, love, but you’re scaring me. Whatever is the matter?’

  ‘David’s had his leave cancelled,’ Mary said tearfully. ‘We won’t be getting married in January now. And Mrs Matravers has said that with the war so full of uncertainty it’s better for Emma to remain in the custody of the state. She thinks Emma should stay in the orphanage and then, when she’s released from prison, she can come and take her home and raise her as should have been the way all along.’

  Flo felt a surge of anger. The deputy store manager had caused more than enough damage already. ‘Steady on, love, what have the authorities actually said?’ she asked, leading Mary to the chair behind the till.

  ‘They said that they would meet Mrs Matravers and try to reason with her. She’s not due to be released from prison for at least another two years as the judge wanted to make an example of her, and that’s a long time for a baby to remain in care when there is a family ready and waiting to take her,’ Mary explained, her voice catching with emotion.

  ‘Oh Mary love, what a disappointment. And all this has come about because David had to cancel his leave?’

  Mary nodded, before reaching into her handbag for a handkerchief. ‘David’s furious. He sent me a telegram this morning and says he will try and talk to her but I don’t think it will do any good. Oh Flo, I can’t quite believe all this is happening. I’m not getting married, and I’m not going to be a mother to Emma.’

  At that Mary broke into a fresh round of tears, causing Dot and Alice to come running.

  As they approached, Flo scanned the floor to check for customers and, seeing the floor was still empty, quickly filled the other women in on what had happened.

  ‘That cheeky cow,’ Dot fumed. ‘I’ll crown her for this.’

  ‘Dot, language,’ Flo growled, though privately she agreed with her.

  ‘But your wedding is just postponed, isn’t it?’ Alice said, squeezing Mary’s hand in support. ‘You will wed at some point?’

  Mary nodded and sniffed. ‘Yes, the next time David’s on leave. We’ll get a special licence if we don’t have enough notice. Oh, I’m sorry for weeping like this, girls, it’s all just been such a disappointment.’

  ‘Of course it has,’ Rose soothed, as she had joined them by now. ‘But you’ll get to be mother to baby Emma, of that I’m sure.’

  ‘That woman wants stringing up for all the damage she’s caused,’ Dot seethed.

  ‘I must say I’m stunned at her callousness,’ Rose put in, ‘but we all know she hasn’t got a heart.’

  ‘But what should we do?’ Mary sniffed. ‘I’ve been building up a real bond with Emma lately, I’ve visited her at the orphanage every week and I feel she knows me now. I’m letting her down.’

  ‘You’re doing nothing of the sort,’ Rose protested hotly.

  ‘Have you thought about going to see Mrs Matravers?’ Dot suggested. ‘Might do you the power of good if you had a heart-to-heart.’

  Mary shook her head. ‘I’m not sure I’d trust myself to say the right thing.’

  ‘A letter then,’ Alice said.

  Dot snorted. ‘Because that’s worked so well for you. You heard from Gracie yet?’

  At the question Alice’s face fell. ‘I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.’

  ‘And does Jack know you’ve written to her yet?’ Flo asked.

  Alice shook her head, earning herself an eye-roll from Dot.

  Looking around at her friends Flo felt a sudden surge of irritation. They were bright, capable women yet they were all making themselves powerless in the face of life-changing events.

  ‘I’ve had enough of all this,’ she thundered, causing the girls to look up in alarm. ‘Alice, it’s time you told Jack what’s going on. Your marriage floundered because of lies and secrecy; the last thing you want is that to happen with Jack. Mary, you can’t take this lying down. I don’t think you should write a letter to Mrs Matravers or speak to her but I do think you should ask Mr Button to make your case. She respected his opinion, she may listen to him now.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Mary spluttered.

  ‘You can and you will,’ she said firmly. ‘And Dot, you need to start really believing that Mr Button loves you. He’s not interested in Evie and never will
be, so forget it. You’re lucky to have a relationship like you do. I had one like that once and now it’s gone there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t wish my Neil was still here. Don’t jeopardise it by being daft. And, Rose,’ Flo said pausing for breath, ‘you need to stop pushing me about singing.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Rose protested.

  ‘You are, darlin’,’ Dot put in helpfully.

  Flo’s expression softened. ‘I know you mean well but I’m happy as I am playing piano and you should be happy that’s enough for me.’

  ‘But are you happy, Flo?’ Mary countered.

  Flo looked up at the dark wooden ceiling and thought for a moment. She wasn’t happy as such, but there were moments where life didn’t seem quite as terrible as it had when Neil had first died.

  ‘I think I am,’ she said slowly, ‘and that’s thanks to you girls. You’ve all been so kind to me these past few months and that’s why I want you all to be happy too. You’ve got to take charge of your own lives.’

  As Flo finished the girls looked at her in awe.

  ‘All right,’ Mary sighed, ‘I’ll talk to Mr Button.’

  ‘And I’ll talk to Jack,’ Alice agreed.

  ‘And I’ll give you a break about singing,’ Rose said softly. ‘I didn’t realise – I just wanted you to be happy, but if you are then I’ll keep quiet.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Flo breathed, turning to Dot. ‘And are you going to stop giving Evie a hard time?’

  ‘Not on your life!’ Dot chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t trust that woman as far as I can spit, though for your sake I’ll make sure there are no scenes on the shop floor.’

  Flo laughed; she expected nothing less from her friend, but she did expect more from herself. She wanted her friends to have a happy ever after. Was it possible she could ever find hers?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was the end of the week. Christmas was fast approaching and the night of the fundraiser had finally arrived. The day had been a busy one on the shop floor and, despite the lack of goods to sell, the store had been inundated with shoppers eager to make the most of their ration book coupons and buy what they could.

  Flo was pleased she had something to take her mind off Christmas Day itself. It would be her first without both Aggie and Neil, and the thought of it left her reeling. She was trying her best to put on a brave face, but in truth she would be glad when the wretched day was over.

  Just like last year, Liberty’s had been gifted a tree by Princess Valentina, who was a regular customer and friend of the store. Evie, along with Flo and Dot, had decorated the tree that morning with twinkling glass baubles they had reused from last year. Although it didn’t have the usual glamour that Liberty’s and their customers commanded, it was still a spectacle and Flo had been delighted with the finished result. Concentrating on the decorations had also taken her mind off the concert that evening, but now, stepping into the grand foyer of the Palladium, Flo felt the nerves take hold.

  Determined to collect herself, she stood in the centre of the rich red carpet and took a deep breath. Instead of focusing on her nerves she concentrated on the scene around her, a trick her aunt had taught her when she first started singing in public. Dressed in her best floor-length plum velvet dress, which her aunt had made for her years ago when she’d started performing, Flo glanced around, drinking it all in. Her eyes roamed over the carved wooden beams and the sweeping staircase that led to the dress circle and circle above, complete with gold rails, and she couldn’t help feeling overwhelmed by the grandeur of the place. Real stars had performed here, and now she would be joining them.

  ‘Taking it all in?’ a voice called behind her.

  Whirling around she came face-to-face with Henry, dressed in a black jacket and dark trousers, his white shirt freshly starched. She smiled at the sight of him. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’

  ‘Why? You’re not nervous, are you?’ Celia asked, appearing alongside him next to Stan, resplendent, Flo thought, in a navy wool utility dress.

  Flo grimaced. ‘A bit.’

  ‘You’ll love it when you get up there,’ Henry promised. ‘And you look wonderful.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Celia agreed. ‘You’re a natural, love. Enjoy this moment; you’ve more than earned it.’

  ‘Are you doing “Baa Baa Black Sheep”?’ Stan asked suddenly, causing the three adults to burst out laughing.

  Flo shook her head as she watched the little boy fiddle with the braces that were holding up his short trousers. ‘Sadly, Stan, I’m not. But I will be playing “Sunshine on Sestan Bay”. ’

  Stan brightened at the news. ‘We can all sing that one, can’t we, Henry?’

  ‘Erm, well …’ Henry paused, only for Celia to take over and give Flo a wink.

  ‘We can certainly all mouth the words with Mr Monroe when he sings it, can’t we?’

  ‘I suppose,’ Stan replied, somewhat mollified.

  At that Flo checked her watch and felt a surge of dread in the pit of her stomach. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘Break a leg.’ Henry chuckled. ‘Although on second thoughts, don’t! I can’t cope with any more staff out.’

  ‘Shouldn’t have sacked so many then, should you?’ Flo teased.

  Spinning around, Flo found a stagehand who showed her to her dressing room. The walk through a corridor crammed with props and rails of glamorous costumes, past shelves full of pots of half-used make-up with brushes on the side, reminded Flo a little of Liberty’s and she felt her nerves subside just a little.

  As the stagehand showed her to the door, Flo was delighted to see Rose and Alice, working together to ensure things backstage were running smoothly.

  ‘Everything all right?’ she asked, seeing Alice on her knees with a handful of pins as she made a few adjustments to a costume.

  ‘We’re getting there,’ Rose replied. ‘We’ve had to change a few things around and one person’s ill so we’re down an act.’

  ‘No!’ Flo’s hands flew to her mouth. ‘Who?’

  ‘Jeanie Michaelson and the dance troupe.’

  ‘But they were going to close the show!’ Flo gasped, her mind running amok with thoughts of a disappointed audience.

  ‘That’s why you and Max are doing it instead,’ Alice said.

  ‘What?’ Flo’s jaw fell to the floor. ‘My nerves will never last if I have to wait two hours to perform.’

  ‘Welcome to show business.’ Max chuckled, breezing past her in his new Liberty’s suit. As everyone gasped a little in his presence, Max smiled and nodded his head at the cluster, before pulling Flo to one side. ‘Tell you what, let’s go up to the bar and we’ll make our wait a little more bearable.’

  With Rose and Alice nodding encouragingly at her, Flo followed Max, feeling as if she were a circus performer putting her head into a lion’s mouth rather than a pianist waiting to take centre stage.

  ‘Does this happen a lot?’ she asked as Max placed a gin and orange in front of her.

  Max shrugged and took a sip of his pint of stout. ‘Nine performances out of ten something gets changed, but it doesn’t matter, does it?’

  Flo sipped her drink and enjoyed the feeling of the alcohol gliding down her throat. ‘I suppose it doesn’t. I just don’t like change.’

  Max laughed. ‘Force of habit with this job.’

  ‘How long have you been with ENSA?’ Flo asked politely.

  ‘Oh, since the beginning when Basil and Leslie asked me to come on board,’ Max replied. ‘And yes, I think perhaps at the beginning we might have deserved the nickname Every Night Something Awful.’

  Despite herself, Flo chuckled. The nickname was one that she knew had been hounding the ENSA performers for years now, and it was largely unfair – though she had to confess she and Aggie had seen a couple of dreadful performances some years ago. Flo smiled as she recalled the time that she and Aggie had howled all the way through a particularly painful variety show where the singer was tuneless and the most magical thing about the m
agician was the way he walked off stage.

  ‘I can’t say I’d heard that nickname,’ Flo said diplomatically.

  ‘You’re a terrible liar, darling.’ Max laughed, the grey in his hair shining silver under the bright light of the bar.

  ‘How did you get into singing?’ Flo asked, changing the subject.

  ‘My mother sang,’ Max replied. ‘She used to earn extra money for the household by singing at posh parties for the landed gentry.’

  Flo gasped. ‘So did my aunt.’

  Max looked at Flo in surprise. ‘Well, fancy, it’s a small world, isn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose it is.’ Flo grinned. ‘My aunt was such a talent. She said singing was so much a part of her she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.’

  ‘My mother was the same, and I suppose I am too,’ Max admitted. ‘That feeling when you open your mouth and allow the power of the words and the lilt of the music transport you to a place far, far away.’

  Flo nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. ‘Did you ever consider doing anything else?’ she asked.

  Max scratched his chin and regarded Flo thoughtfully. ‘No, I didn’t. I was in the army in the last war and I used to sing all the time then for my comrades. I must admit it probably did me as much good as it did them. We saw such atrocities, it was a way of boosting our spirits and better than any medicine.’

  ‘I’ve always felt that way myself. Singing brings people together, lifts them up; it’s a real tonic,’ Flo replied.

  ‘It is’ – Max nodded –‘so the question is, when are you going to make the most of your tonic? I hear you’re an incredible singer as well as a wonderful pianist.’

  Flo gaped at him in surprise. She was just about to reply when the gong sounded, calling them to the stage.

  ‘Ooh, that’s us already.’ Max grinned, slamming his empty glass on the table and getting to his feet. ‘I told you the time would pass quicker than you thought.’

  As Max walked confidently down the halls towards the stage, Flo struggled to keep pace, the nerves building all the while inside her. By the time she reached the wings Flo felt so dizzy and sick she thought she would pass out as the audience clapped and cheered the penultimate act before they walked off stage.