Wartime at Liberty's

by Fiona Ford

  The only thing that grounded her was the sight of the baby grand piano Max had specifically requested sitting in the middle of the stage. Flo had never played on such a beautiful-looking instrument and she ran her eyes eagerly across the instrument’s shiny black lid and matching glossy stool. In that moment, Flo thought of Aggie, and how much she would have loved to be on this stage. Taking a seat at the piano, Flo gazed out at the sea of faces and smiled. She wasn’t just doing this for Liberty’s; she was doing it for her aunt too.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The theatre was packed and Flo turned to look at Max as he greeted the crowd.

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ Max boomed above the audience’s cheers. ‘It’s a pleasure to be here tonight.’

  At that everyone broke into another round of applause that was so deafening Flo wondered how he didn’t have hearing damage if this was what he had to put up with every night. But one glance at the star told her he didn’t seem at all bothered; in fact he was positively thriving.

  ‘We’re going to entertain you with a few very special songs. However, before we begin let me introduce you to a friend of mine who will be accompanying me on the piano tonight – Mrs Florence Canning.’

  At the sound of her name, the crowd applauded again and Flo felt a sudden rush to her heart as she realised they were all clapping for her. As the noise died down, Max nodded and she hovered her fingers over the keys aware of just how shiny and pristine they seemed. Pressing the tips of her fingers against the keys she tentatively began playing the opening number they had agreed upon, ‘Show Me The Way’. It didn’t take long for Flo to find the rhythm of the music and allow it to transport her far from London.

  Throughout their set, Flo played hit after hit, but it was when they performed ‘You’re My World’ at the end of the show that the audience went wild with appreciation. Flo found herself remembering how she and Aggie had once belted this song out at the pub one night, a rare evening when they had performed together. As Flo played the notes she remembered how happy she had been. Neil had been in the audience, looking proud as punch, while Aggie stood on a makeshift stage telling the audience that he was engaged to be married to the best singer in the world.

  She would give anything to go back to that place again. Before she knew what she was doing, Flo found herself singing along with Max. Her voice sounded clear and true and she hit every note with precision, providing the perfect accompaniment to Max’s deeper tones. As the song finished, Flo suddenly came to and realised with horror what she had done. But there was no time for recriminations as Max addressed the crowd.

  ‘Well, how about that, ladies and gentleman. Please put your hands together and show your appreciation for Mrs Florence Canning.’

  At that the audience exploded and Flo got to her feet to curtsey. As the roars continued, she could hardly believe the sound was for her, but as the house lights went up she could see everyone smiling at her, cheering her on for all she was worth. In that moment, the permanent state of grief she had felt at losing her aunt and husband lifted. She felt light and carefree – a feeling she wanted to hold on to for all eternity.

  With that the rest of the cast and the stagehands, including Rose, Alice, Dot and Mary, burst on to the stage and took their bow to the rapturous appreciation of the audience. As Flo stood between Dot and Max, she realised she had never felt so alive. It was all down to Max, encouraging her to be brave and follow her heart.

  As they walked off the stage, the sound of applause ringing in her ears, Flo was just wondering how she could hold on to this feeling when she felt Max tug gently at her arm. A surge of worry engulfed her. She knew she had behaved badly.

  ‘Listen, Mr Monroe, sir, I am sorry I started singing and ruined your performance,’ Flo began. ‘I just found myself getting so carried away with the music – and it was a song I used to sing with my aunt …’

  Her voice trailed off and she became aware of Max beaming at her. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong at all. You’re a talent, a raw, natural talent. I’m here to beg a favour. Please, Flo, you shouldn’t be working in Liberty’s – you should be on the stage. You should be in ENSA.’

  The excitement on the shop floor the following morning could be felt everywhere. Flo had started later that morning thanks to the events of the previous night, for Henry had very generously offered to let her sleep in.

  She needed the rest. She had spent most of the night tossing and turning over what had happened at the concert, furious with herself that she had interrupted and ruined Max Monroe’s performance. The man had really been too kind, congratulating her like that and telling her she ought to join ENSA, when really she should be reported to the board and reprimanded for bringing the reputation of Liberty’s into disrepute. Still, a little part of her had fantasised about what it would be like to join the famed entertainment troupe. She pictured crowds from all over the world applauding her as she stepped on to the stage.

  ‘Here she is!’ Henry beamed from his position behind the till. ‘The new star of Liberty’s, Mrs Flo Canning.’

  At that he gave a small round of applause, causing Flo to flush with embarrassment; she was grateful there were no customers on the floor and only Alice and Dot in the corner, too far away to hear.

  ‘Stop that!’ she groaned, walking around to her place behind the till to take over. ‘I’m cross enough with myself as it is.’

  ‘Why? You were brilliant.’

  ‘Because I showed Liberty’s, Mr Monroe and myself up. I was a fool.’

  Henry’s face creased with concern. ‘You can’t seriously think that, Flo. You were wonderful. I knew you could sing, your friends kept telling me, but I had no idea you were that good. The audience loved you too, they were all applauding – you must have heard that?’

  Flo’s cheeks were now burning with mortification. ‘You’re too kind, but honestly I must apologise to Mr Monroe again. I shouldn’t have done what I did, and he must have felt terrible for me to have made me the offer that he did afterwards.’

  ‘What offer?’

  ‘He asked me to join ENSA. I know he wasn’t serious – he must have been so embarrassed for me that he said the first thing that came into his head to try and make me feel better.’

  Henry shook his head in despair. ‘Max Monroe offered you a job singing with ENSA? Flo, that’s incredible. Are you going to take it?’

  ‘Of course not!’ Flo snapped, feeling more irritable than usual thanks to lack of sleep. ‘He wasn’t serious, and even on the off-chance that he was I wouldn’t be interested; my life is here at Liberty’s.’

  The deputy store manager said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow and closed the sales book he had been examining.

  ‘How was the rest of the evening?’ Flo asked, keen to change the subject. ‘Was it a success?’

  ‘It was a huge success. We raised almost a thousand pounds.’

  Flo’s jaw dropped open. ‘How on earth did we raise so much?’

  ‘Because we had some very nice donations from Betty Fawcett and Princess Valentina. We also sold every ticket and even had some extra donations this morning.’

  ‘Almost a thousand pounds. Imagine what that money will do.’ Flo murmured.

  ‘Well, that’s it, isn’t it? The war effort should hopefully be well aided with that kind of money. So we’ll be making a presentation to the war office at the New Year dinner.’

  ‘Where’s Evie?’ she asked, changing the subject again. ‘I thought she was supposed to be covering for me this morning. I didn’t see her last night either.’

  ‘She’s out sick. She let the superintendent know that she’s caught a dreadful stomach bug so you’ve got me instead.’

  ‘I can live with that’ – Flo smiled – ‘as long as you stop teasing me about singing.’

  ‘I won’t say a word.’

  ‘Has everything been all right here?’ she asked, taking the sales book from Henry’s hands.

  ‘No problems. We haven’t been busy but
then everyone is hanging on for the New Year sale.’

  ‘Is that what Alice and Dot are doing?’

  ‘Yes. I asked them to sort through the stockroom and start discounting the fabric rolls that have been selected for the sale.’

  ‘Good.’ Flo nodded, shutting the book with a snap as she turned to face the deputy. ‘So who’s really going to be making the presentation to the war office then?’

  ‘We’re hoping Princess Valentina might do it, otherwise Mr Button will step into the breach.’

  ‘Will he have the time?’ Flo asked. ‘He’s been so busy.’

  ‘We hope so. It’s been a difficult time for all of us with Edwin away from the shop floor so much, but his work with the Board of Trade should ease off a little next year. Utility fashion and fabric are all in place so everything should be back to normal.’

  With that Henry broke away to serve a customer. As Flo watched him smile and laugh, she thought about what he’d said about life returning to normal and realised she wasn’t at all sure that was what she wanted.

  Chapter Thirty

  Exactly a week after the fundraising evening, the day Flo had been dreading arrived. Waking early on Christmas morning Flo closed her eyes and buried her face in the pillow, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed all day and pretend Christmas had been cancelled. She had successfully managed to avoid the festivities at work, all but ignoring the carols, decorations and excited shoppers. Instead she had tried to pretend this was just another Friday, but now it was here, Flo knew it was anything but. This was the first Christmas she had faced without Aggie and Neil. The pain of it blindsided her for a second, and she felt so sick with grief she didn’t think she could face the day. Just how was she supposed to keep going like this?

  Flo wasn’t sure. But then, hearing Arthur downstairs gurgling in delight, Flo knew she couldn’t put off facing the day any longer. She would simply have to make the best of it and at least she would be doing it in good company. Dot had invited Mr Button, Mary, Rose, her dad Malcolm and Tommy, who was back on leave, to join them for dinner as well as Jean and Bess. They were going to be collected by Mr Button in his motor car. He had been saving up his fuel for the job, Dot had told her proudly. Alice had invited Jack, and Flo had invited Celia, Henry and Stan, so she was sure there would be at least enough of a distraction if she found the day proved a bit too much.

  And so Flo had dragged herself out of bed, wished Dot, Alice and Arthur a merry Christmas and made the tea. Then she had dutifully helped peel the potatoes and organise the chairs ready for a lunch she was secretly dreading.

  Now as the assembled group crowded around Dot’s kitchen table, ready to eat, she felt as if she might crumble. The grief she had successfully managed to avoid all morning was somehow finding its way back into her heart. Lifting her chin, she looked across the table and found Henry looking at her sympathetically. She smiled in gratitude, grateful for the support, and turned her attentions back to the table.

  ‘So, Tommy,’ she said, turning to the soldier seated on her right. ‘When did you get back?’

  ‘Last night. I go back tomorrow. But it’s worth it to spend Christmas with my Rose.’

  Flo nodded. She couldn’t miss the look of love plastered on Tommy’s face. He had barely taken his eyes off Rose and Rose too appeared overjoyed, the smile on her face seemingly permanent. Rose deserved a bit of happiness, and it was nice to see, especially with Mary wearing a face like a broken clock. She was still devastated at Mrs Matravers’ decision and Flo was furious on her behalf. Turning her gaze towards her friend she could see that, like her, Mary was doing her best to put a brave face on things but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  ‘Well, you picked a good weekend for it.’ Celia beamed as Dot placed a turkey on the centre of the table.

  Tommy raised an eyebrow. His wide-open face was full of awe at the spread in front of him. Not only was there a turkey but there were bowlfuls of veg and a mound of potatoes that Flo thought would feed not just Tommy but his entire platoon.

  ‘Dare I ask you where you got this, Mrs H.?’

  Dot sat down and winked at Tommy. ‘You can ask, darlin’, but rest assured I won’t be telling. And if you want to eat better food than you’ve been eating in the army these last few months you won’t ask no more neither.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ Tommy shrugged, before carefully piling Rose’s plate high with turkey and then his own.

  ‘Want me to put you some on a plate, Bess?’ Dot asked.

  Bess smiled and held out her plate with her left hand. ‘Could you do me some small bits please, Dot love? If you give me anything I have to cut up we could be here until next Christmas.’

  At that Rose laughed, while the rest of the table stayed silent. Bess looked at everyone, her eyes crinkled with mirth. ‘You can laugh, you know. In my experience you have to laugh about things in life, because it’s flamin’ miserable if you don’t.’

  Rose nodded in agreement. ‘I make you right there, Bess. Someone shouted “four eyes” at me down the Lane the other day. I had to correct them and say on a good day it’s barely two.’

  At that Flo couldn’t help but smile. Laughter really was the best medicine, and she felt proud in that moment of these two wonderful women: their bravery was inspiring.

  ‘How’s your mum getting on this Christmas, Rose? She still with the ATS lot in Camberley?’ Jean asked, helping herself to gravy and pouring a little on to Bess’s plate.

  Malcolm nodded. ‘According to her last letter, yes, she will be spending Christmas perfecting square bashing,’

  Mary laughed; she remembered it well from her own ATS days. ‘At least she’ll get slightly better food today. They did pull out the stops around the festivities.’

  ‘They’d have to do summat to cheer the poor buggers up, wouldn’t they?’ Dot put in.

  ‘Oh come on now, Dot, the food’s not that bad in the army,’ Mr Button pointed out as Tommy passed the carving knife to him.

  ‘Quite right,’ Malcolm agreed, helping himself to some of the no doubt illegally obtained bird.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Henry agreed, piling Stan’s plate with potatoes. ‘We had quite a good cook in our regiment. Won’t have a word said against him.’

  Dot rolled her eyes. ‘That’s not what my George used to say. I told him he’d get used to it. He told me you could get used to prison if you tried hard enough.’

  At that the table broke into fits of laughter and Flo found herself joining in. Perhaps the day wouldn’t be so bad. After all, she was in good company and the food smelled delicious.

  ‘I gotta say this looks even better than the food we have at Rainbow Corner,’ Jack put in.

  At the mention of the American Red Cross club, where food shortages were unheard of and hamburgers, doughnuts and drinks were readily available, the table groaned.

  ‘Don’t you mention that place here,’ Dot scolded as she lifted her knife and waved it in the GI’s direction. ‘Poor Tommy don’t want to hear about your bloody Cocoa Lola that you can drink ‘til you’re blue in the face after you’ve done a hard day’s graft doing nothing but line your bellies.’

  ‘Come on now, Dot, that’s enough,’ Alice said, her face furrowed with annoyance as she speared a carrot. ‘We’re celebrating today, not knocking seven bells out of each other, and anyway it’s Coca-Cola.’

  Dot rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever. And you should know by now I’m only teasing.’

  ‘And I should like to say how kind it is of you to have me in your home, Dorothy,’ Celia said, lifting her glass of beer aloft. ‘I usually spend Christmas just with Henry and Stan so this year has made a very nice change.’

  ‘And we’re thrilled to have you,’ Dot said, her eyes twinkling with kindness. ‘In fact, it’s a pleasure to have you all here, safe and well at this table.’

  At that Arthur gurgled, seemingly in agreement, and Jack smiled affectionately at the matriarch. ‘And I too would like to thank you. But, Dot, let me say
this, I’m not gonna be pounding the streets of London long. I’m going to be moved sometime in the early part of next year.’

  Flo felt a flash of surprise. ‘Goodness. Where?’

  ‘Bristol,’ Alice replied before he could say anything. ‘So you won’t be seeing quite as much of him.’

  Flo looked at her friend and saw that familiar steely gaze she often wore when she was trying to disguise her hurt.

  ‘Better Bristol than thousands of miles away,’ Rose countered.

  ‘It’s not for ever, my love,’ Tommy said as he squeezed Rose’s hand and gently kissed her fingers.

  At the gesture Flo’s heart swelled with love for them both. She was so glad Rose had relented and allowed Tommy to take compassionate leave this Christmas. She could see already it had buoyed up her spirits in a way neither the girls nor Malcolm had been able to manage since the girl had lost most of her sight.

  ‘Precisely, Tommy.’ Alice grinned in his direction. ‘There’s a war on; we all have to go without the niceties in life. I shall get used to being with my fella when I can just like almost every other woman in this country.’

  ‘And no doubt you’ll appreciate it all the more when you are together,’ said Rose, turning to Tommy as if they were the only two people in the room.

  With that everyone beamed fondly at Rose and Tommy just as Dot started to speak.

  ‘What about you, Henry love? Has there never been anyone special in your life for you to share Christmas lunch with?’

  At the question, Henry looked so surprised, Flo felt sorry for him.

  ‘Dot, don’t be so personal!’ she exclaimed, before turning to Henry. ‘Please don’t answer that.’

  Henry, who had now regained his composure, waved Flo’s concerns away. ‘It’s all right. But no, Dot, to answer your question, there has never been anyone special.’