Wartime at Liberty's

by Fiona Ford

  Evie laughed again. ‘All right, so it’s true. But where’s your proof?’

  Flo faltered. Proof was the one thing she didn’t have. ‘I’ll go to the board, tell them what you’ve been up to.’

  ‘Like hell you will,’ Evie snorted. ‘You won’t go anywhere because, if you do, you’ll have to start telling folk that Bess and Jean are a couple of dykes, and you’ll see what that does for Liberty’s popularity.’

  Flo winced. ‘You’re a disgrace, Evie, I don’t know how you can sleep at night.’

  ‘Probably not as well as you,’ Evie conceded, ‘but then I’m not a jumped-up chorus girl with a man like Henry Masters to keep me warm in bed.’

  Fury raged through Flo like nothing she had felt before. Before she knew what she was doing she’d slapped Evie hard across the face, enjoying the stinging sensation in her fingers and the sound of the blow reverberating across the room. The time for manners was over.

  ‘You cheeky cow,’ she growled. ‘You’re nothing but a troublemaker and Liberty’s deserves better than you.’

  Just then a noise at the doorway caused both women to look up. There, with a face like thunder and his arms folded, was Mr Button.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Evie jumped to her feet. ‘Mr Button, thank God you’re here. I thought you were with the Board of Trade all day. Mrs Canning just struck me with her bare hand.’

  ‘So I gather,’ Mr Button said gravely, his eyes darting from Flo to Evie.

  Flo felt a stirring of regret. She knew her anger was justified, but she was a senior staff member, she shouldn’t have lost her temper like that.

  ‘I want to make a formal complaint,’ Evie continued. ‘And I’ll go to the police. Look – she’s left a mark.’

  As Evie offered her cheek up for inspection, Flo grimaced as she saw her handprint. Mr Button cursorily examined it, and then glanced at Flo. She shivered, despite the warmth of the room. Mr Button’s glare chilled her to her very core.

  ‘Yes, that must have hurt,’ Mr Button said, ‘and from what I can understand, Mrs Allingham, it was very well deserved.’

  ‘I beg your pardon!’ Evie exclaimed.

  Mr Button turned around, slammed the door shut and faced the women, his face now puce with rage.

  ‘I heard every word.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Flo gasped, thinking of the secrets she had unleashed.

  ‘I mean I heard everything,’ he clarified.

  ‘Then you’ll have heard that as well as employing a low-down crook, Liberty’s have employed a dirty lesbian,’ Evie exclaimed. ‘The whole thing is abhorrent. She must be sacked forthwith. She’s bringing the good name of Liberty’s into disrepute. What on earth would people say if they knew? And as for that disgraceful friend of hers, well, perhaps losing her hand was God’s punishment for whatever depraved things they get up to.’

  Flo took a step forward, ready to unleash the full extent of her fury, only to find Mr Button had already beaten her to it.

  ‘No, Mrs Allingham, what’s abhorrent is you,’ he said, his voice taking on a steely tone. ‘What’s abhorrent is that you thought you could use people’s biggest secrets to feather your own nest. You disgust me. I recommended you to the Board of Trade, I valued your expertise, defended you to Mrs Hanson when she tried to tell me how dreadful you were. I disregarded it all out of professional respect. But now I see what everyone else sees: a disgusting and bitter individual who is so obsessed with the morality of those around her she cannot see the immoral behaviour she is indulging in herself. You have no place on the Public Morality Council, and you have no place here at Liberty’s or the Board of Trade either. I want you out of my shop immediately.’

  ‘Edwin, please,’ Evie began, ‘I can explain.’

  Now it was Mr Button’s turn to roar with laughter. ‘Can you really? What will it be, I wonder. Botheringtons made you do it? Your brother? Whom I very much doubt you are estranged from after all, but who made a nice little story for you about your loyalties truly lying here. Please, Mrs Allingham, don’t insult my intelligence any further. It’s a shame I didn’t see it sooner. I let myself down, I let the store down and, worst of all, I let my very valued employees down.’

  Evie said nothing. She glared defiantly out of the window, the morning sun burning through the glass.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Flo asked.

  ‘I’m going to sack Mrs Allingham here with immediate effect,’ Mr Button said. ‘Then I’m going to demand all the notes, drawings, private papers and anything else to do with Liberty’s that she’s taken are returned. And, perhaps most importantly, I’m going to insist that the money she stole from the fundraiser is returned straightaway.’

  ‘That’s impossible,’ she cried, ‘I don’t have it.’

  ‘Then you’d better bloody find it,’ he snarled. ‘Because if you don’t I shall not only sully your reputation over at Botheringtons, but I shall tell everyone at the Board of Trade what you’ve done. You’ll be finished, Evie. Even if you deny it to the hills we all know mud sticks and I shall ensure that every filthy piece of dirt I can lay my hands on sticks to every inch of you.’

  Evie opened and closed her mouth, clearly unsure what to say.

  ‘There’s nothing else for you here, Evie,’ Mr Button thundered. ‘Now get out of my sight before I ask Mrs Canning here to slap the other side of your face so you’ve a set of matching prints on each cheek.’

  Evie didn’t need telling twice, and scuttled out of the room.

  Once she was gone, Flo looked gratefully at the store manager. ‘I’m sorry for all of this. Truly. I wanted to come to you the moment I found out, but …’

  ‘But you didn’t want to break any confidences,’ Mr Button said gravely.

  Flo nodded. ‘I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you. I knew that I could trust you; I just didn’t want to betray anyone.’

  ‘Quite understandable,’ Mr Button said. ‘What we have to do is go about setting things back in order.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean you’re going to sack Jean, does it, sir?’ Flo begged.

  Mr Button looked confused. ‘Why on earth would I sack Jean? She’s one of the best sales girls we have on the shop floor.’

  ‘Some people might feel differently.’

  ‘Well, I’m not some people.’ Mr Button shrugged. ‘And I couldn’t give a monkey’s whether any staff of mine decide to fall in love with a man, woman or nobody at all. When I was in the army there were a lot of fairies about. I never understood the problem myself. They were there serving our country just like the rest of us and that was all that truly mattered to me – and to most people, to be honest. Jean’s business is nothing but her own, and I’m certainly not going to sack her because of her relationship with Bess.’

  Flo felt a surge of warmth grow inside her. She knew Mr Button would do the right thing. He was the pinnacle of decency and with him at the helm of Liberty’s she knew the ship would continue to forge ahead.

  ‘And what about Mr Masters?’ she asked.

  ‘We’ll reinstate him with immediate effect and the board will pay him for all the days off he was forced to take by way of compensation.’

  ‘Really?’ Flo gasped in delight. ‘That’s wonderful.’

  ‘Not as wonderful as not having accused him in the first place,’ Mr Button said. ‘Now, Flo, I think perhaps the only one that’s going to lose out here is you.’

  ‘Me?’ Flo looked confused. ‘Why me, sir?’

  ‘Well, Mr Masters’ reinstatement means I have no further need for your services as deputy store manager.’

  Flo felt a flash of relief. ‘That’s fine, sir. I’m happiest in fabrics.’

  Mr Button regarded her fondly. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Sir?’ She looked at him again quizzically.

  ‘Is fabrics really where you’re happiest or do you think there might be somewhere else you’d prefer to be? The stage, perhaps?’

  ‘Sir, I have no idea what you
mean,’ she gasped. ‘My place is at Liberty’s, always has been and always will be.’

  Mr Button stepped forward and clamped a hand over Flo’s. ‘My dear, you will always have a home here at Liberty’s whenever you want it. But I wonder if perhaps it’s time to really think about what does make you happy? You’re no longer the child that came to work here as a Saturday girl in the stores all those years ago. You’re a woman now, with a bright future ahead of you if you want it. I wonder if it’s time to make those dreams come true.’

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Usually the basement crypt was a functional canteen used solely by those on fire-watching duties. Tonight it had been transformed into a glamorous stage that would easily rival any West End theatre.

  A rich red rug had been borrowed from the carpet department to create a lush walkway between the row of chairs that had been decorated with silk ties lent by the fabric department. At the front, all the tables had been embellished with heavy white tablecloths and candles, giving the place the air of a very elegant nightclub.

  ‘What do you think?’ Alice called as Flo walked in and marvelled at the scene around her.

  ‘It looks gorgeous,’ Flo exclaimed.

  The area beyond the tables had been turned into a stage courtesy of a large cutting table from the pleating room. The cutting table, along with a pair of red velvet curtains that Flo knew had once lined the old beading room, created the perfect theatrical effect.

  ‘Who did all this?’

  ‘Who d’you think?’ Dot chuckled, appearing from behind the curtain. ‘The fairy godmother?’

  Flo rolled her eyes as Dot swept her up in a hug. ‘Ignore me, I’m teasing, but I hear we all owe you a thank you.’

  Flo stepped away from Dot’s embrace and looked at her in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that it’s thanks to you we’ve got rid of Evie bloody Allingham,’ Dot cried, her eyes shining with relief.

  ‘And got me my job back,’ Henry boomed from behind her.

  Whirling around she was delighted to see he was flanked by both Bess and Jean, who were smiling broadly.

  ‘We don’t know what you did or said,’ Jean said, her voice thick with gratitude. ‘But Mr Button said that you had discovered Mrs Allingham was the thief and therefore she had to go.’

  ‘To Flo,’ Mary cheered.

  ‘To Flo!’ everyone chorused.

  Looking at her friends’ faces, each filled with delighted merriment, Flo felt herself blushing. She had only done what anyone else would have, of that she was sure.

  ‘There’s nothing to thank me for,’ she said earnestly. ‘The truth would have come out in the end.’

  ‘And I’ll flamin’ knock her block off if I see her again,’ Dot fumed.

  Sensing Dot was about to launch into one of her lectures, Flo started to walk towards the area that she could see had been earmarked as backstage.

  ‘I think I’d better get ready. Max will be here soon and I want to have a quick run through of the duets we’re doing.’

  Alice and Mary looked sheepishly at one another. ‘Er, there’s something we need to tell you.’

  ‘What?’ Flo demanded.

  ‘Max isn’t coming,’ Rose said flatly. ‘He’s not well. He suggests you do all the numbers he performed. He says you sing them better than he does anyway.’

  ‘And you do,’ Dot said loyally.

  Panic flooded through Flo and she leaned on one of the nearby tables for support. ‘What do you mean he isn’t coming? He has to come! He’s the star of the show! His name and face is on all the posters.’

  ‘Well, his name and yours,’ Mary said matter-of-factly. ‘The show must go on, as they say in show business, so you’d better get on with it.’

  ‘But I can’t,’ she gasped.

  ‘Flo, sweetheart,’ Henry said in a tone she recognised as one he’d used on Stan when he was about to throw a tantrum. ‘You were born ready. You’re going to bring the house down. Now go and get yourself set up and enjoy this.’

  ‘And you deserve it.’ Alice smiled. ‘Come on, knock ’em dead!’

  With that Alice gave Flo a little push towards the backstage area, and Flo, knowing she was beaten, meekly walked away.

  Finding a spot to change next to the violinist from ready-to-wear and the ballet dancer from gifts, Flo started to get ready. For tonight’s performance she had chosen to wear Aggie’s old red dress. Floor-length and made from taffeta it was every bit as glamorous as her mother had been, and Flo hoped it would imbue her with confidence, ignoring the fact she felt very much like an inmate about to face the hangman. Instead she remembered what Aggie used to say: If you feel like a star, then you are a star.

  With that Flo waited nervously in the wings as the dance troupe finished. Then she heard Princess Valentina, who had been made master of ceremonies for the entire event, announce her name.

  ‘Please welcome to the stage our very talented mistress of music, all the way from fabrics, Mrs Florence Canning.

  Stepping out in front of the audience, Flo looked down at the sea of people who were all beaming at her and clapping furiously. This time there were only about two hundred, half the number in the Palladium, yet this felt more special and intimate.

  ‘Good evening, everyone,’ she said as the applause died down. ‘Thank you all so much for letting me be here tonight. Our good friend Max Monroe is sadly unable to make it. I know I’m a very poor substitute but I promise we’re all going to have a good time. I thought tonight I would start things off with a song that meant a very great deal to me and my late husband, “This Heart Was Made for Loving You”.’

  As the pianist began to play, Flo looked out into the audience, felt her nerves disappear and sang. Then an incredible thing started to happen. All the joy and power that she used to feel when she sang for an audience returned. She was alive, exhilarated, and she could do anything. The only thing that mattered in that moment was her and the song.

  For the next half an hour that was all Flo could think about, until she reached the final number of the evening. As the pianist rested his fingers on the keys and began to play the introduction to ‘Love Is Everywhere’, her thoughts turned to Aggie. Was this how she had felt when she performed on stage? Then Flo’s thoughts turned to the children she had played piano for. Had they felt a fraction of this power when they had stood as a group and sung their hearts out? She knew that the surviving children had gone on to nearby schools and she hoped that those who had adored singing, just as she did, would continue to do so.

  Opening her mouth to start her final song, the audience got to their feet in appreciation as the lyrics flowed from her. As her lips glided over the words, the sentiments of love and loss weren’t lost on her. Closing her eyes, an image of Neil, of his handsome face on their wedding day, came to mind. It was so clear, so real, as she took in the love shining from his face and the joy, the sweet, sweet joy, in his eyes as she promised to love him forever. Reaching the end of the song, Flo came to as the audience stamped their feet to show their appreciation. For a moment she felt a flash of sadness that the memory of that beautiful day was just that, a memory. But oh what a memory it was, and what love she had felt. And now, in the present, what love the crowd were showing her as they cheered and applauded.

  Glancing out at the sea of faces she saw her loved ones beaming back at her. Mr Button and Dot were clapping furiously, Alice had two fingers in her mouth, wolf-whistling in a most unladylike manner, while Mary and Rose were standing on their chairs whooping with pride.

  Once again she felt herself blush. She had been so worried that she wouldn’t be up to the job of standing in for Max Monroe, but judging by the affection for her in the room, she had more than surpassed their expectations. Her eyes roamed the audience for Henry, Stan, Bess and Jean but to her surprise she couldn’t find them.

  ‘Thank you, everyone,’ she said sincerely as the applause died down. ‘That’s it from all of us tonight. However, the evening
isn’t over, so if you’d like to refill those glasses before our presentation, which I am pleased to tell you is for even more money than we raised before, now is the perfect time.’

  With that she stepped off the stage and made her way to the backstage area, which was empty. Sitting on one of the tables that had also doubled as a make-up table she took a deep breath and allowed herself a moment to revel in the success of the night.

  ‘Well, you were brilliant,’ Henry said softly.

  Turning around, she saw him hovering in the so-called wings. ‘Thank you,’ she said, beckoning him to come closer.

  ‘I brought you these,’ he said, pulling out a posy of pale pink chrysanthemums from behind his back.

  Flo gasped in delight at the gesture and took them from him. ‘Thank you. Whatever are they for?’

  ‘To congratulate you on following your dreams. You were amazing up there tonight. A star,’ Henry said, his tone still gentle as he took a step towards Flo. ‘And to thank you for working so hard to clear my name – and Bess and Jean’s too.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Flo shook her head firmly. ‘Mr Button did it all.’

  ‘I think we both know that’s not true. You’ve become a very dear friend to me, Flo, over these past months, and I want you to know that if you ever need anything, big or small, I’m here for you.’

  With that he bent down and planted a soft kiss on her lips. At his touch, Flo wanted to weep. It had been so long since she had been held and she couldn’t deny that it felt wonderful to feel the touch of someone else’s lips against hers. Instinctively she kissed him back, lost in the moment, but then reality hit and she pulled away. This wasn’t her husband, the man she had loved and adored her entire life. This was Henry Masters, her friend, her very dear friend.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, her forehead resting against his. ‘I’m sorry, Henry, we shouldn’t have done that.’