by Lesley Eames
‘I’m looking for someone to work full-time. Sundays and Wednesday afternoons off. Twelve shillings a week.’
‘Is there accommodation?’
‘Accommodation?’
‘Somewhere to live.’
‘It’s not that sort of job.’ He sighed as though she’d wasted his time.
‘What’s upstairs?’ Lily asked quickly. ‘I take it you don’t live there?’ She’d looked up at the windows as she’d approached and seen that they were curtain-less and dusty.
‘There’s nothing up there except storage space.’
‘I don’t need luxury, and if I lived upstairs, it’d be no trouble for me to help in the mornings and close up after you’d gone home. You could knock the rent off my wages.’
‘I just want someone to work in the shop.’
Lily swallowed down her disappointment and got to her feet. ‘I’m sorry I troubled you. I hope you find someone suitable soon.’
Her smile lasted no longer than the time it took her to reach the street, the depth of her disappointment surprising her. There was nothing special about a job in a bakery, after all. It would have meant long hours on her feet for small reward, with no guarantee that Mr Bax would like her idea for a café area or anything else. But her interest had been sparked, lighting her up inside only for the brightness to be extinguished like a candle.
Walking back to Highbury Row, she paused to look up at the house. Lily knew how to be grateful and she appreciated the food, shelter and small wage she received here. Yet she still craved something new. Not riches or social standing but challenge and satisfaction.
How on earth was she going to find them, though? The amount she could save each week was pitiful and the lack of a home was a serious handicap. But she was a fighter, wasn’t she? She’d find a way somehow.
The next time Lily walked past the bakery she saw a girl behind the counter. The girl looked pert and self-important to Lily, but perhaps that was jealousy talking. Not liking the idea of being resentful, Lily turned her attention to the other shops in the area.
‘What are you looking for?’ Phyllis asked, as she and Lily were walking together a few days later.
‘Opportunity.’ Lily told Phyllis about her ideas for the café. ‘I want to keep my eyes open in case any other ideas strike me.’
There was a card in the greengrocer’s window: Help wanted. Three days each week. But Lily couldn’t live on part-time wages and no accommodation appeared to come with the job. A baby was crying in the rooms above the shop so presumably the greengrocer lived up there. Besides, Lily couldn’t see her way to making her mark on a shop like this.
After two weeks of looking she couldn’t see her way to making her mark anywhere close by. Walking back to Highbury Row, she wondered if she should try the centre of London on her next afternoon off.
‘Excuse me, but I think that gentleman is trying to catch your attention,’ a passing woman told her.
Lily looked round and saw the baker waving to her from his shop. ‘Thank you,’ she told the woman, then crossed the road to Mr Bax. ‘Do you want to speak to me?’
‘I do. Are you still looking for work?’
‘Perhaps.’ The pert girl was nowhere to be seen.
‘Come in for another chat.’
He led her to the kitchen table again. ‘I got a girl in but she was too full of herself for my liking. We had words and she stormed off in a huff. I got another girl in but she couldn’t work out the customers’ change.’ In other words, he was desperate.
‘There’s the problem of accommodation,’ Lily reminded him.
‘Take yourself upstairs and see what you think. But be warned. It’s a mess.’
He nodded towards a door and, opening it, Lily found a set of back stairs. Climbing them, she found four doors on the next floor. Two of them opened into rooms that overlooked the back of the building, one room being larger than the other. Both were stacked randomly with what appeared to be baking supplies – boxes, tins, jars of jam, bottles of preserved fruits, and shallow crates filled with straw that she guessed contained apples, pears or both. There were also a few broken items Mr Bax hadn’t got rid of. Clearly, he was a better baker than a housekeeper.
A third door opened to another set of stairs leading downwards, probably into the shop. Clearly these stairs weren’t in use because they were piled with boxes, most of which looked empty.
The final door opened to a large room with two windows that overlooked the front of the building. More boxes were stacked in here but Lily felt excitement fizz at the possibilities the room offered. Not that she intended to share those possibilities until she’d proved herself to Mr Bax.
Returning to the back stairs, she climbed higher and found two attic rooms that had been abandoned years ago judging from the cobwebs, dust and grime. They could stay abandoned as far as Lily was concerned. The rooms on the middle floor were enough to serve her purpose.
‘I’m happy to move upstairs,’ Lily said, returning to the kitchen. ‘Perhaps we could move the stores to the smaller room so I can have the other room at the back.’
‘You don’t want the big room at the front?’
‘Perhaps that could be a sitting-room.’
‘You’re not faint-hearted, I’ll say that for you. You can cook for yourself down here and use the bathroom too, but what about furniture?’
Lily supposed she’d have to use her savings for some basic furnishings, but, before she could speak, Mr Bax continued with, ‘I can’t afford to buy new so you’ll have to pick up what you need second-hand and let me know the cost.’
‘That will be fine,’ Lily said.
‘When can you start?’
‘Not for another week. I have to give notice.’
‘Fair enough. One week.’
‘Can I come before then to clean the rooms?’
‘Come whenever you like.’
Lily returned to Highbury Row with exhilaration bubbling in her veins. Her housekeeper was unhappy but philosophical when she heard Lily was leaving. ‘I knew what would happen when Mrs Sinclair expected us to do Ruby’s work for no extra money. I’ll tell her things will only get worse if she doesn’t pay fairly.’
Ruby’s work had nothing to do with Lily’s decision but she kept quiet about that, liking the idea of helping Mrs Daniel and the other staff to win an increase in their wages.
‘What will you do if the baker doesn’t like the idea of a café?’ Phyllis asked, when Lily told her the news.
‘I’ve no intention of suggesting it until I’ve proved I’m a good worker. If he still doesn’t like the idea, at least I’ll have had experience of working in a shop and that might be useful when I take my next step.’
‘If you do open this café, don’t forget Phyllis and I are first in the queue for jobs,’ Elsie said.
‘I won’t.’
‘In that case I suppose we’d better help you to turn this dump into some sort of home.’
Lily didn’t know how she’d have managed without their help. Together they turned the smallest room into an orderly store room, cleaned up the second room so Lily could sleep in it and cleaned up the big room too. Lily found a bed, a cupboard and a table with four chairs in a second-hand shop and had them delivered on the day she moved in. The table and chairs looked lost in the big room but Lily didn’t mind.
She threw herself into work, dressing smartly in a neat black dress, pristine white apron and cap then presenting herself in the kitchen well before her starting time so as to help Mr Bax to carry trays of bread, rolls and baked goods into the shop. She helped him to clear up at the end of the day too.
‘You’re no slacker,’ Mr Bax told her, approvingly. ‘You’re quick and you’ve got a good head when it comes to giving change. You always have a smile for the customers too.’
The days became a week. Two weeks. Three…
Easter arrived and Artie came to see Lily’s new home. It was impossible for him to hide his worry. ‘The last thing I
want is to spoil your fun, Lil, but aren’t you a little young to be living alone?’
‘I’ll be seventeen soon. So will you.’
‘I don’t like the thought of you here by yourself at night.’
‘People live in the buildings on both sides,’ Lily pointed out. ‘I love living here. I have independence. Somewhere to invite you and my friends.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Be happy for me, Artie.’
‘There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy, Lil. I’ve had all the advantages and you all the disadvantages. You deserve a chance for a better life, but this place…’ He waved an arm around the big empty room at the front of the building.
‘It’s perfect,’ Lily insisted.
‘You don’t blame me for worrying? A chap is supposed to look after his sister.’
‘I don’t blame you at all,’ Lily told him.
He still looked unconvinced about Lily’s situation. At times Lily had doubts too. What if loneliness did set in? Boredom too? And also disappointment if Mr Bax refused to listen to her ideas? Lily pushed the doubts aside, determined to stay hopeful.
She spent some time alone with Artie before he left. ‘I’ve heard that some of the conscripts are sorry specimens,’ Artie told her, Fordyce’s military family being his source of information. ‘But they’re being fed and trained so I’m sure there’ll be a big push before too long. Maybe even the push that’ll bring about peace.’
‘Let’s hope so.’ Lily was fervent.
Artie returned to school and Lily decided it was time to start putting her ideas into action – if Mr Bax allowed them.
The bakery shop had two windows overlooking the street with a door in the middle. One window was much bigger than the other and it was in here that trays of bread and baked goods were displayed to attract the attention of passers-by. The counter ran from front to back on this side of the shop so it was possible for Lily to reach into the window and take items from the display as well as from the counter and the shelf behind it. The smaller window was on the customer’s side of the shop but displayed only a notice giving the shop’s opening hours.
One morning Lily asked, ‘Do you think I might arrange the windows a little?’
‘Arrange them?’
‘To make the shop look even more appealing.’
‘We’re selling bread, buns and cakes,’ he pointed out as though their nature made them appealing enough.
Lily stood waiting and after a moment he threw up his hands. ‘Go ahead with your arranging. But I don’t promise to like it.’
She was down very early the next morning, bringing all the things she’d gathered together with this day in mind. She began by placing empty cardboard boxes in the big window, arranging the smaller ones at the front and the taller ones at the back. She covered them with white cloths she’d picked up in a second-hand shop then placed baskets of bread and plates of cakes and pastries on the boxes to create a tiered display. To the side she placed a vase of daffodils.
She put another covered box into the smaller window and placed a pretty china teapot on top, together with a cup and saucer. She arranged another vase of daffodils beside them.
‘Come and see,’ she invited.
Mr Bax sighed but wiped his floury hands on his apron and came through to the shop. His heavy eyebrows shot up when he saw what she’d done. ‘Looks… fancy,’ he said.
But his expression turned thoughtful as two women walked by outside. They were talking but when one of them pointed to the window, they stopped, moved closer for a better look then came inside. ‘I usually go to Evans’s for my baked goods but this place looks clean and fresh,’ the first one told Lily. ‘I’ll take half a dozen scones, please.’
‘I’ll take a Victoria sponge,’ her companion said.
Mr Bax shook his head, clearly bemused by the ways of women. But, understanding the value of pounds, shillings and pence, he left Lily to her customers.
‘We’re out of scones,’ Lily reported later.
‘Out?’
‘Sold out.’
He looked at the clock. ‘That’s early.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Lily agreed, with a private smile.
‘All right, I’ll admit it,’ Mr Bax said at the end of the week. ‘There must be something in these fancy displays of yours so it’s only fair that I should pay for them. Let me know the cost and I’ll refund it. You’ll find a little extra something in your pay packet too. Only a little something so don’t get excited. It’s just my way of saying thank you.’
Lily was delighted. Being repaid the money she’d spent on china and cloths meant she could buy paint for the table and chairs in her sitting room. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to sit on the floor,’ she told Elsie and Phyllis when they called in to see her one Sunday.
‘You’ve been busy,’ Phyllis said, nodding at the furniture as it stood drying on old newspapers.
‘Mmm,’ Lily agreed.
‘You look good on it, though.’ Elsie gave Lily one of her shrewd looks.
‘I feel good.’ Despite the early starts and long days Lily enjoyed working at the bakery far more than she’d enjoyed domestic service. ‘I love being able to use my ideas, and the customers are nice too. Most of them anyway. I’m getting to know them.’
‘So this is the start of Lily’s empire,’ Elsie said.
‘Hardly an empire. I just hope I can keep the takings up.’
‘You will,’ Elsie predicted. ‘Then you can employ Phyllis and me.’
‘Yes, please,’ Phyllis said.
Lily laughed. ‘Wouldn’t that be nice? But it’ll take more than a few extra sales to justify more staff.’
At least she could offer her friends a place to meet and eat. On that thought she took them down to the kitchen for a supper of toasted cheese followed by a custard tart that had been left over from the shop.
As the weeks passed she continued with her displays of flowers and also greenery that Mr Bax brought in from home after she learned he had a garden. He was a widower who lived in the downstairs part of a nearby house and had sole use of a garden in which he grew fruits and rhubarb for use in the bakery as well as potatoes and other vegetables.
‘With everything in short supply these days a man has to do what he can to supply his own ingredients. Fruit gives sweetness so saves on sugar and makes it less obvious when I have to use margarine instead of butter,’ he’d told her.
He had two older sisters, Beatrice and Betty, who were both unmarried and working as companions-cum-nurses to elderly people. Beatrice was allowed to grow vegetables in her employer’s garden while Betty had free rein to pick the apples, pears and plums that grew in the garden of her employer. It was Beatrice and Betty who made much of the bakery and bottled fruits.
‘They used to go out picking wild blackberries for jam too but that’s got harder since the war started as everyone else is after blackberries too,’ he said.
Lily met the Bax sisters when they came to the bakery out of curiosity. ‘Bernard’s been telling us about the changes you’re making,’ Beatrice told Lily.
‘It all looks so pretty,’ Betty approved.
How sweet they were! Their closeness put Lily in mind of the Tibbs sisters, but while Hilda and Marion had different personalities, the Bax women were very much alike in character. Not in appearance, though. Beatrice was tall and thin while Betty was small and round.
‘We’ll have to come back soon and see what else you’re doing,’ they said, and Lily took that as her cue to introduce more ideas – special offers for when Mr Bax wanted to use up particular ingredients, and small but free samples of cake or pastries to tempt the customers to buy. She also bought card, ink and paints to make colourful signs to advertise the offers.
She was delighted when Mr Bax totted up each week’s takings and pronounced that they were doing well. He gave her another small but welcome bonus on her birthday and also baked a cake which his sisters came to share along with Elsie and Phy
llis.
Lily was seventeen now. So was Artie. Before the war she’d been impatient for him to become an adult so they could be together again. These days she wanted to slow things down because every passing day took him closer to being caught up in the war. If only there could be peace.
Lily’s hopes for an end to the fighting rose towards the end of June when Artie wrote to say, We hear there’s a big push going on. The biggest bombardment there’s ever been…
Two days later another letter came from the Tibbs sister. We haven’t heard anything ourselves, but people have told us they’ve heard the guns going off in France, day and night. Thousands and thousands of shells…
‘I expect they’re trying to destroy the German trenches and the barbed wire that protects them so there won’t be much resistance when our boys go over the top,’ Mr Bax said.
*
The first day of July was a Saturday. There’d been talk in the shop that morning of guns being heard even in London so Lily went out and stood in Highbury Fields during her break. Was that rumble coming from the war or distant traffic? It was hard to know but, whether she could hear the guns or not, she prayed that this really was the beginning of the end of the war.
But days passed and there was no news of victory. Instead the casualty lists were longer than ever. Customers looked bewildered and wretched, and one customer – a gentleman – put into words what people were beginning to fear. ‘This push along the Somme river. It’s a bloody disaster.’
Artie was white-faced when he visited after coming home for the summer holiday. ‘Mr Burrows is dead. Killed in action on the first day of battle.’
‘Oh, Artie, I’m sorry!’
‘He was such a good teacher. Such a good man. Another old boy has died too, and another will be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.’
Artie was depressed but also angry. ‘I wish I were old enough to do my bit,’ he fretted.
Lily wished the opposite. She knew it was selfish when others were losing their loved ones but she couldn’t help it. ‘The best thing you can do right now is to live your life as well as you can.’