Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop (The Foyles Girls)

by Elaine Roberts

  Lily took a step nearer to the youngster. ‘What have you been up to?’ She scowled at him. ‘You’re looking guilty of something.’

  The boy tilted his head back and lifted his chin, before thrusting his arm behind his back. ‘I ain’t done nuffink.’

  Daisy bit her lip, trying not to smile at the lad, as she took in his dirty trousers. His patched trouser legs swung around his ankles and his shirt hung out of the waistband. ‘Has someone been pulling at your clothes?’

  ‘No, I was just in an ’urry, that’s all.’

  Lily gave him her best policewoman stare, before walking around him. ‘You know we’ve had complaints about a young lad stealing fruit from old Mr Wilson’s stall.’ She glanced down at the apple he was holding. ‘That’s not you, by any chance, is it?’

  The lad spun round. ‘No miss, it ain’t.’

  Daisy looked at Lily. ‘Perhaps we should take him back and ask Mr Wilson if this young man is the culprit. If he is, we’ll take him down to the police station and sit him in a cell, while we do the paperwork.’

  ‘No, please don’t; the apple ain’t for me.’ The boy looked crestfallen, as he stared at the fruit in his hand. ‘It’s for my sister. My pa’s away fighting, and my ma’s sick. I’m trying to look after us all, but since me ma ain’t working, there’s no money to buy food or anyfink.’

  Lily immediately felt bad for trying to scare the young lad into not stealing again. ‘How long has your ma been sick?’

  The boy shrugged his shoulders. ‘I dunno, a few days. She’s burning up. My sister keeps putting a wet cloth on her forehead, but nuffink seems to work.’

  Daisy laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘First we’ll go and apologise to Mr Wilson; that poor man has to make a living too. Then we’ll go and see your ma.’

  ‘Ya mean, yer not going to take me down the station?’

  Lily smiled. ‘We’ll see, come on.’

  A portly policeman cycled past them, ringing his bell several times. ‘The Germans are coming. Take cover, the Germans are coming.’

  Daisy looked around them. ‘Come on, we have to find a basement somewhere.’ She moved to grab the boy’s arm, but he moved in the opposite direction.

  ‘Sorry, miss, I’ve got to get ’ome for me ma, otherwise they won’t make it.’ He started to run but stopped and looked round. ‘I promise I’ll speak to Mr Wilson, but I’ve got to get home for me ma.’ He continued to run away from them.

  ‘Come on, Lily; I think Victoria mentioned that Foyles has a basement, so let’s see if we can go in there until it passes.’

  *

  A bicycle bell rang out through the air. Molly rushed to the open bedroom window, just as a policeman yelled out, ‘The Germans are coming. Take cover, the Germans are coming.’ The bell rang continually. Molly turned quickly to her friends. ‘Come on, girls, we’ve got to get to the basement.’

  Victoria turned towards the bedroom door. ‘Don’t worry about taking anything; the basement has biscuits and water, so we’ll be safe there for a few hours. Come on, follow me.’

  Alice and Molly followed Victoria out of the room and ran down the stairs. Victoria opened the basement door, propping it open with a full coalscuttle. A damp musty smell, mingled with candle wax, rushed out to greet them. As the girls stared into the darkness, Victoria struck a match and lit a church candle that was kept on the nearby console table for such occasions. The small flame grew until it stood upright and the aroma of beeswax filled the space around them. They each gripped the banister and followed their friend down the stairs.

  Victoria began to light the candles that were scattered around the basement. The flames flickered into existence in the chill that filled the room, casting shadows as they danced.

  Molly moved the coalscuttle and closed the basement door, shutting out the natural daylight, with the exception of a thin slither, showing underneath it.

  ‘No, Molly, leave it open,

  Molly raised her eyebrows but put the coalscuttle back where it was. ‘I don’t think having the door wide open will give you much protection if a bomb hits the house.’

  Victoria turned away. ‘I can’t have it shut.’

  Alice glanced at Molly, giving a slight shrug of her shoulders before turning back to look around her. ‘You’ve made this very cosy, Victoria.’ A couple of woollen shawls sat on a small armchair. A side table was stacked high with books. Two single beds were beside each other, quite close to the chairs.

  Molly nodded. ‘Yes, ours is still a basement with a couple of chairs in it, but this feels like it’s part of your home, if you know what I mean.’

  Victoria looked around her. ‘Daisy and I have spent a lot of time down here in the last three years. We decided early on to just sleep down here every night, so we had to make it a little bit cosy, otherwise it would have felt like going to prison every night.’

  The girls chuckled at her words; they all knew Victoria wouldn’t have a clue about the inside of a prison, nor indeed would any of them.

  Victoria indicated to the chairs. ‘Make yourself comfortable. You’ll need the shawls, because it does get chilly down here.’

  The girls wrapped the shawls around them and made themselves comfortable in the armchairs. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

  Victoria looked from one to the other of her friends. ‘I know nobody likes these bombings, but I find the daytime ones especially scary.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m never with Daisy when they happen, and I worry we won’t see each other again.’ She sucked in her breath. ‘I hope she’s safe. I can’t think about Stephen and Ted facing this everyday… I just worry so much. I wish Daisy wasn’t putting herself at risk.’

  Alice reached out and held Victoria’s hand. ‘I know, we feel like that about Lily; at least at night we are all with our families, at home. I worry what sort of world Arthur is going to grow up into; all this fighting, people dying, and for what?’ She pulled her hand away and clenched it in her lap.

  Molly sat in silence, wondering if her father was home to carry her gran down into the basement. A shiver ran down her back. She prayed her family would be safe. Perhaps it was time she set the date for her wedding, so at least her gran would see her walk down the aisle, even if she didn’t live long enough to see great grandchildren. She would talk to Andrew, it was time to stop being stubborn, and forcing them into a life they didn’t want.

  Victoria glanced across at Molly. ‘Are you all right, Molly?’

  Molly forced a smile. ‘Yes, just thinking about whether Gran managed to get down to the basement.’

  Victoria nodded. ‘It is scary when you’re not with them.’

  Alice looked down at her hands, clenched in the folds of the floral apron. ‘We have to stay positive and have faith, otherwise we’ll go mad with worry.’

  Molly sighed. ‘I wonder how long we’ll be stuck down here for.’

  ‘Listen.’ Victoria lifted her hand. A rumbling could be heard above them.

  The room fell silent, as the noise got louder.

  Molly whispered. ‘I can’t bear this; let’s sing a song or talk about something that will lift us.’

  Victoria frowned. ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know, but there must be tons of things.’ Molly paused. ‘What about Peter Albright; what do you think of him? He’s obviously smitten with Daisy. Or we could talk about Arthur and how he’s wrecking Alice’s parents’ home, now he’s, what, two years old? We could talk about anything; it’s got to be better than listening to that noise outside and wondering what awaits us.’

  Alice nodded. ‘You are quite right, Molly.’ She smiled at her friend. ‘So when are you going to set your wedding date?’

  Molly giggled. ‘I’ve just been thinking about that; I shall speak to Andrew later. Life’s too short to be holding my family to ransom over a house. I have to let them live the life they want to live.’ She looked down at her hands, clasped on her lap. ‘I want what I thin
k is best for them, but it’s time I realised they want what’s best for me too.’ She sighed. ‘Life’s too short, so I should give them the wedding and grandchildren they want, while they are still alive to enjoy it.’

  Victoria nodded. ‘I’m sure Andrew will be pleased; he’s been very patient with you.’

  ‘I know; I’m a lucky woman. Anyway, I’m hoping you two will accompany me down the aisle, whenever it is.’

  The girls beamed at each other. ‘Of course.’

  ‘I could have Arthur as a pageboy, but I don’t know if I’m that brave. From what I can gather, trying to get a two-year-old to do what you want is almost impossible.’

  Alice laughed. ‘You’re right there, so don’t feel you have to, because it’s not necessary. Have you seen much of Andrew’s sister; it’s Elizabeth, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, she’s lovely, and so easy to get along with.’ Molly looked wistful for a moment. ‘She and Andrew are so close.’

  Victoria fidgeted in her chair, pulling her shawl closer. ‘It’s good that they have each other.’ She smiled over at Molly. ‘And now you as well – I’m sure there won’t be a dull moment.’

  The girls laughed and Molly pulled a face at Victoria. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.’

  *

  Daisy and Lily stepped across the busy Charing Cross Road, weaving quickly between the cars coughing and spluttering along the road. Men, women and children raced down the street, to find shelter. Panic was plastered on every person’s face, some looking up and searching the clouded sky. Children’s cries filled the air, their fear tangible.

  Daisy shouted out. ‘Take cover everyone. Find a basement. Go into the shops and the underground stations. If you’re near your home, get there quickly and head for the basement.’

  Lily followed Daisy’s lead. ‘Don’t panic, but please hurry.’

  The girls ran up the road, repeating their words. The large white lettering of the Foyles Bookshop came into view. They passed it every day, but today there was more urgency to reach it. They could only hope there was room for them in the basement.

  Daisy glanced up at the sky but couldn’t see any aircraft. There was still time. ‘These daytime bombings are frightening everyone; at least at night, you know you are with your loved ones.’

  A little girl sobbed as she ran up to them and grabbed Lily’s hand.

  ‘What is it, little one, where’s your ma?’ Lily looked around at the people, some running, while others walked briskly in all directions.

  The little girl sobbed.

  Lily picked her up and held her close. ‘It’s all right, little one, we’ll find your ma.’ She raised her eyebrows at Daisy.

  Daisy came across and rubbed the girl’s back. ‘Can you tell us your name?’

  The child looked at them, before sniffing and wiping her hand across her face. ‘Susan.’ She sniffed.

  Relief tripped across Daisy’s features. ‘Right, Susan, can you remember where you were when you last saw your ma?’

  ‘I wasn’t with me ma.’ Susan sniffed again. ‘My grandma was buying me a book, cos it’s me birthday.’ Her sobs grew louder again.

  Lily pulled her close again. ‘Everything’s going to be all right, Susan. This will be like an adventure you read about in books.’ She stroked the child’s blonde hair, wishing she had more experience with children, other than her robust nephew, Arthur. ‘So how old are you today?’

  ‘Six.’

  Daisy glanced up at the sky again.

  Lily followed suit; was that rumblings she could hear. ‘Six; you are a big girl. Perhaps we should sing happy birthday to you, but first we need to take cover.’

  The girls walked quickly towards Foyles Bookshop. An elderly man, wearing a black suit, stood tall at the doorway, glancing upwards every couple of minutes, as he beckoned people to get inside the store. A grey-haired woman of tiny proportions came out of the shop, stopping to talk to him. She was sobbing and shaking her head.

  ‘Susan, is that your grandma?’ Lily sent up a quick prayer for it to be so. She quickened her pace. The man in the doorway of the bookshop pointed in their direction, waving at the girls to come over.

  Susan’s head popped up. ‘Yes, yes it is.’ A smile spread across her red, blotchy face.

  Daisy and Lily gave a collective sigh of relief.

  The man shouted, ‘Come on in and someone will show you to the basement.’

  The girls ran through the doorway, followed by the grey-haired woman. Susan held out her arms to her grandmother.

  The lady held the child close and squeezed her tight. ‘Thank you, so much. I was so frightened; I thought…’ She looked across at the policewomen standing in front of her. ‘Thank you, thank you so much.’ She gave her granddaughter an extra squeeze. ‘None of it matters now; you’re safe.’

  Susan giggled. ‘Grandma, you’re squeezing me so tight, I can’t breathe.’

  ‘Sorry, little one.’

  The bolts were pulled across the shop door, jerking everyone’s thoughts back to what was happening. ‘Right, ladies, let’s go down to the basement. I’m afraid it will be rather cramped down there, but at least everyone will be safe.’ He led the way through to the back of the shop. There was no time to stop and look at the shelves of books that they passed. ‘Forgive my rudeness; I haven’t introduced myself.’ He peered over his shoulder. ‘I’m Mr Leadbetter, the floor manager of this wonderful bookshop.’ He gave them a worried glance as he stood aside, for them to enter the basement. ‘Please hold on to the handrail; we don’t want any accidents.’

  People’s mumbled voices could be heard at the top of the stairs. The girls followed Susan and her grandma down into the basement, with Mr Leadbetter close behind them. He pulled the door shut with a bang. Lily gasped as she walked into the basement. It was not only crowded with people, but books as well, stacked high on every available shelf and counter. There was a mustiness that hung in the air, along with a calmness that everything was going to be all right. Some were leafing through books, while others were deeply engrossed.

  Mr Leadbetter looked around, pleased he had managed to get so many people in there, but more grateful that the child had been reunited with her grandma. He watched the girl looking at a picture book. ‘These daytime bombings have made people even more fearful of losing loved ones; at least at night, most families would be together.’

  Lily stared at the tall, upright man, catching the musky scent he was wearing. ‘That’s very true.’ She licked her dry lips, wishing she could busy herself making a cup of tea, before she looked across at Daisy. They frowned at each other. No words were needed, as they knew they were both thinking about their own sisters, and whether they would be safe when this was all over with.

  8

  Victoria looked around her parents’ bedroom. The green curtains fluttered at the window. The fresh air had cleared the musty smell that the three of them had faced earlier. Murmurs of conversations from the street filtered up to the bedroom, as the heat of the day lessened. Children’s laughter drowned out everything around them. They were happy to be back out in the sunshine, unaware of the dangerous times they lived in. Victoria sent up a silent prayer, hoping that Stephen, Daisy and Ted were safe. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing them too. She shook her head quickly before turning to Alice and Molly, smiling at the smudges on their faces. The colourful red and blue scarves Victoria had found earlier were wrapped around their heads, and aprons gave inadequate protection as they tried to protect their clothes. ‘I couldn’t have done this without your help; the pair of you haven’t stopped, since arriving this morning, apart from our time in the basement. I can’t thank you enough. It looks like a different room to the one we walked into earlier.’

  Molly laughed. ‘I’ve never worked so hard, not even at the munitions factory, but at least it hasn’t killed me.’ She glanced around the walls. ‘And more importantly, there’s been no death by spider, at least not yet.’

  Alice wiped her han
ds down her apron. ‘It’s the first step. We can actually start going through things now, but we will have to be guided by you, Victoria; what we’re about to do is very personal to you and your family.’

  Victoria’s face paled. She took a deep breath. ‘It needs to be done, though.’

  Molly picked up a rag and ran it along the top of the chest of drawers. ‘That’s right; I know it’s hard for you, but it will be a good job when it’s done.’ She stopped, only to pick up a photograph of Victoria’s mother and father. Molly studied it for a moment, before turning to glance across at Victoria. ‘Is that you, in your mother’s arms?’

  Victoria took the photograph from her friend. ‘This should be where we can enjoy it every day. Ma always said it was my brother, so it must be Stephen. Mind you, to look at it, you would never know who it was. He’s so young and wrapped up, he could be anybody.’ She placed the silver-framed photograph back on the chest of drawers. ‘To be honest, I don’t know where to start.’

  Alice looked around the room. The heavy, dark oak wardrobe dominated it, with a matching dressing table and chest of drawers. The dusty white crochet doilies stood on every surface possible, nestling under photographs, next to a blue floral jug and bowl, and a silver hairbrush set. ‘Why don’t we concentrate on removing the clothes? We could fold them up and place them on the bed, so you can decide whether you want to keep any of them. When you’ve done that, we can arrange for them to go to the Salvation Army. I’m sure someone could make use of them.’

  Victoria gripped her hands tight, before giving a slight nod. ‘It’s a good place to start.’

  Alice opened the wardrobe door and stared at the few clothes hanging there. She frowned; she had expected to see more but decided not to say anything. ‘We’ll need to check the pockets, just in case there’s anything you want to keep.’

  Molly peered over Alice’s shoulder. ‘Victoria, why don’t you make us a cup of tea; it’ll help take the dusty taste away, and I’ll start on the drawers.’

  Victoria took a step towards the doorway, before looking back over her shoulder. ‘Thank you. If you do nothing else, I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done.’ She paused as her eyes welled up. ‘I’ll go and make the tea.’