The stairs creaked as Victoria ran down them. Molly was immediately transported back to her first day at the munitions factory. It’s the stairs that give you away, every time. She pulled open the top drawer of six and immediately frowned. ‘It doesn’t feel right to be going through someone’s belongings.’
Alice stared into the wardrobe. ‘I know what you mean, but we have to remember we’re doing this for Victoria; she needs to move on, once and for all. Seven years is a long time.’
Molly shook her head. ‘I know you’re right, but it feels like I’m prying.’ She pulled out several pretty floral scarves, folded them and placed them on the bed. Lacy handkerchiefs quickly followed these, with initials embroidered in one of the corners.
Alice removed a black dress from the wardrobe and felt inside the pockets that lay on the side seams, but they were empty. She removed the hanger, neatly folded the dress and placed it on the bed, before repeating the action on the next garment.
They both worked their way through the task they had undertaken to do, until the stairs creaked again and the rattling of crockery could be heard. Victoria came in and placed the tray of tea things on top of the chest of drawers.
Victoria didn’t say anything, but her eyes were drawn to the growing piles of clothes that were partially covering the bed. She sat on the edge of it and pulled a white blouse free from the neatly folded pile of clothing. Staring at it for a moment, she let her fingers rub the soft material, before lifting it to her face. Victoria buried her nose into the blouse and took a deep breath. There was a musty smell, but she could still catch the faint scent of lavender. She blinked rapidly, as memories filtered through, of her mother making small lavender bags, to place in the drawers and hang in the wardrobes.
Molly rested her hand on Victoria’s arm. ‘Have a look at what’s there, and then you can keep whatever you’d like.’
‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ Victoria stood up and turned back to the crockery. ‘You know me; I won’t want to throw anything away. I shall just keep things like photos and trinkets, for now.’ She picked up the teapot and began to pour the dark brown tea, the strainer catching the leaves as they tried to reach inside the cups.
Molly quickly looked away as sadness washed over her. She picked up a pale blue, woollen jumper, which unfolded slightly in her hand. There was something hard within its folds. Molly opened it and letters, tied with blue ribbon, fell on the floor. The clatter of the teapot landing on the silver tray made her jump. She looked up, but Victoria was already stooping to pick up the letters that had lain hidden until now.
Victoria slowly pulled at the end of the silk ribbon. The bow held tight; she hesitated, before tugging harder at the end. The ribbon gradually loosened. She lifted each individual envelope and there were at least a couple of dozen of them. She didn’t recognise the handwriting on them. She stared at them for a moment. A sigh escaped. ‘I shouldn’t look at these now, otherwise I’ll not get anything done.’ She quickly re-tied the ribbon and placed them on the bed.
A thud from downstairs startled the three of them and they all looked towards the bedroom door.
‘Hello, it’s only me.’ Daisy’s voice rang through the house.
Victoria called out. ‘We’re upstairs.’
The groaning of the stair treads told the girls Daisy was running up them. ‘You’ll never guess what those Germans have done; it’s terrible.’ She gasped for breath, as she stood in the doorway. ‘They’ve only gone and bombed a school in Poplar.’
*
Foyles Bookshop was as busy as ever, with children playing amongst the racks of books. Victoria watched them for a moment, smiling at the sound of their laughter, hoping their innocence wouldn’t be snatched away from them. She reached up and straightened the books that were precariously balanced on a wooden shelf, close by. Dust clouded the air. Victoria glanced left and right. She needed to find a member of staff to run a duster over these books, before Mr Leadbetter found out.
Molly came bustling round the corner, her eyes fixed on a young woman who was talking animatedly to her, balancing a small child on her hip, while clutching two books in one hand and carrying her shopping bag in the other. ‘It was lovely to meet you, and if you need help finding any books, then please come and see me.’ Molly held up her arm. ‘The payment booth is just over there.’ She indicated to the right. ‘But first you must go and see Mrs Leybourne, the lady standing behind the wooden counter over there. Give her the books and she will give you a bill payment slip to take to the booth. Once you’ve paid, you take your receipt back to Mrs Leybourne and she will give you the books.’ Molly smiled. ‘I know it sounds complicated, but unfortunately, only the lady in the booth is allowed to handle the customers’ money.’
The lady chuckled. ‘Don’t worry. I have my sixpence ready. My husband will be so happy about getting another Sherlock Holmes book; he’ll share it with the other soldiers, but not before he’s read it.’ She paused. Her eyes glazed over for a moment. ‘He does enjoy Arthur Conan Doyle, although I can’t say I’ve ever read one of his books.’
Molly glanced down at the cover. ‘Maybe you should try reading it, before you send it to him.’
The woman glanced at Molly. ‘No, this is my gift to him. It’s the only pleasure he gets, stuck in trenches, practically knee-deep in water and God knows what else.’ She frowned, before forcing a smile. ‘Anyway, I get to read The 39 Steps, before I send it to him.’
Molly nodded. ‘Well, I hope you and your husband enjoy them.’
‘Thank you, and thank you so much for your help.’ The lady walked towards Alice’s counter, adjusting the child on her hip as she went.
Molly watched her walk away. She couldn’t help wondering if she would ever be as strong as some of these young mothers, bringing up a family on their own.
‘Molly.’
Molly jerked at the sound of her name. Her usual ready smile formed, as she watched Victoria wrinkling her nose. The books she’d straightened leaned heavily to one side. ‘Yes, Miss Appleton, are you requiring my assistance?’
Victoria let her hands fall to her sides. The first few books fell flat, onto the shelf. She scowled at Molly. ‘Don’t you Miss Appleton me.’
‘I’m sorry, I thought we had to call all managers by their full name and title.’ Molly gave Victoria an innocent look, biting down on her lip, to stop laughter bubbling to the surface.
Victoria decided to ignore her friend’s attempt at poking fun at her. ‘Can you find one of the new girls and get them to come and dust these books, before Mr Leadbetter sees the state they’re in.’
Molly bobbed her head. ‘Yes, Miss Appleton, I shall do it straight away.’ She turned to walk away, her shoulders the only giveaway to the laughter that had finally erupted from her.
Victoria watched her for a moment, before shaking her head. A smile came readily to her lips; Molly might be a very good friend, but she was definitely a nightmare when it came to pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable.
Molly looked back over her shoulder. ‘Are you stopping for lunch in a minute?’
Victoria glanced at the wristwatch her mother and father had given her the Christmas before they died. ‘I’ll see you there, after you’ve found someone to straighten this lot.’
Molly nodded and carried on down the aisle.
Victoria moved away from the books and immediately bumped into Mr Leadbetter. ‘Sorry, sir, I should have been more careful.’
‘Not at all, Miss Appleton, I was watching some children playing. I trust you were in a safe place when the Germans flew over, yesterday?’
‘Yes, I took to the basement of my home, with Alice and Molly; we were down there for some time.’
Mr Leadbetter nodded. ‘It’s a shame you weren’t here; we had all the customers in the basement. I could have done with your help then, although everybody stayed relatively calm.’ He chuckled. ‘But that might have been because we had two policewomen present. They reunited a lit
tle girl and her grandmother, so everyone was in good spirits.’
Victoria smiled. ‘So I heard.’ A thud behind her made her turn quickly.
One of the new girls was picking up a book she had dropped. ‘Sorry.’ She placed it back on the shelf and proceeded to tidy it up.
Mr Leadbetter raised his eyebrows.
Victoria returned her attention to Mr Leadbetter. ‘From what I’ve been told, the two policewomen were Lily and Daisy – Alice’s sister and mine.’
‘I didn’t realise. Well, they were very helpful and professional.’
Victoria sighed. ‘Daisy told me last night that the Germans bombed a school in Poplar; those poor children must have been terrified.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know if there were any deaths, but just the thought of it upsets me.’
Mr Leadbetter looked grim when he spoke again. ‘I’ll be glad when this damned war is over with. It’s only the innocent that are suffering, whether it’s on the front line, or at home. The daytime bombings mean that families are separated, and in some cases, like the school, people are not able to protect or comfort their loved ones when they die and have no means of finding out for some time.’ He glanced across at Victoria. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be talking like that, but I’ve lost the understanding of what this war is all about, because killing children won’t change anything.’
Without thinking, Victoria rested her hand on Mr Leadbetter’s arm. The softness of his jacket sleeve surprised her, as did the thinness of his arm inside it. ‘There’s no need to apologise, Mr Leadbetter. My ma always used to say, “it’s good to get things off your chest” and my experience tells me it certainly doesn’t do any harm to share thoughts with people you trust.’
Mr Leadbetter nodded. ‘You are very lucky to have good friends around you; it can be very lonely without them.’
‘I couldn’t agree more. The trouble is, we don’t always appreciate what we have, until it is ripped away from us.’ Victoria frowned as images of her parents and Ted immediately jumped into her mind.
Mr Leadbetter stared at her for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something but instead he gave her a curt nod and walked away.
Victoria couldn’t help wondering what was bothering him. As she walked towards the staffroom, she realised she didn’t know much about him at all.
Molly shouted out as Victoria stepped into the back of the shop. ‘Ah good, you made it.’
‘Yes, I’ve made it. What are you so excited about? You’re like a child at Christmas.’ Victoria let her gaze wander between Alice and Molly.
‘Don’t look at me,’ said Alice. ‘I have no idea what it’s all about.’
Molly giggled. ‘We should be in Café Monico, really.’
Victoria laughed. ‘Ooh, it’s that important.’ She pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Well come on, you know you’re bursting to tell us.’
‘I’m getting married.’ She beamed and clapped her hands together. ‘Can you believe it? We’ve actually set the date.’
Victoria got up from the table and swept her arms around her friend. ‘I’m so excited; that’s wonderful news.’ She stepped over towards Alice and repeated her actions. ‘I can’t believe what a monumental day this has turned out to be.’
Alice grinned. ‘I can’t believe it either. I was beginning to think it was never going to happen.’ She reached over and hugged Molly tight. ‘So when will it be?’
‘The August bank holiday weekend, so we need to make sure we can all get that day off work.’ Molly clapped her hands together again. ‘I can’t believe it either.’
Victoria sat grinning at her friends. ‘Does that mean your parents have agreed to move into Percy Street?’
‘Yes, I think they are desperate for grandchildren.’ Colour rose up Molly’s neck. ‘They said they would move, as soon as Andrew and I were married.’
Victoria reached out and clasped both of her friends’ hands. ‘I feel like I could burst with happiness; it’s good to have something exciting to look forward to. I’m absolutely thrilled for you both.’
Molly picked up her paste sandwich and held it up high. ‘To us, and a happy, healthy and peaceful future.’
The girls followed suit, before giggling uncontrollably.
*
Daisy and Victoria sat in their parents’ bedroom, on the coarse rug. The newly lit oil lamps flickered, casting shadows around the room as the evening drew in. The heavy wardrobe doors were wide open. A carved wooden box sat in front of them. They looked at each other for a moment.
Victoria gave a slight nod to her sister.
Daisy slowly lifted her hand and gripped the small ornate key. She attempted to turn it in the lock. It was stiff and unyielding, the mechanism grinding together as she applied pressure, but suddenly it gave way. Daisy let go of it, glancing down at the deep red imprint of the key on her fingers.
Victoria stared at her sister’s hand. ‘Have you hurt yourself?’
‘No.’ Daisy rubbed her fingers together. ‘It was just harder to open than I thought it was going to be, but I suppose it hasn’t been opened for years.’
‘That’s true.’ With some trepidation, Victoria slowly lifted the lid and peered inside. It had a mustiness about it. ‘It’s papers of some sort.’ She reached in and grabbed a handful, as dust flew upwards and caught in her throat. She coughed, frowning as she pulled the papers free. ‘They look like newspaper cuttings.’ Victoria placed them on the carpet, before pulling out some more.
Daisy wrinkled her nose, then picked up the top one and started reading it. She stopped halfway through, to separate them all and lay them out, so they could all be seen.
It didn’t take long for the area around them to be covered with scraps of paper. The girls looked at each other, before staring back down at the scattering of paperwork and photographs.
Victoria was the first to break the silence. ‘These cuttings must have been important, but they don’t mean anything to me, nor do the pictures.’ She picked up a small photograph and tilted it, to examine it closely.
Daisy picked up a cutting. ‘This one’s an obituary; it’s an Appleton, so maybe it was Pa’s father or grandfather. I don’t know.’ She studied it for a moment. ‘It must have been his grandfather, because he was eighty-six when he died.’
Victoria’s lips tightened. ‘I don’t remember meeting him, do you?’
Daisy shook her head and put the cutting back down on the rug.
‘I can’t decide if this is Ma and Pa in this wedding photograph. It’s not their wedding, but I don’t recognise anyone in it, or the place.’ Victoria turned it over, before smiling at the words on it. ‘We have a bit of a clue here.’ She waved the photograph around. ‘It says Mabel and Sid’s wedding, 14th June 1892.’
Daisy smiled at her sister. ‘But who are Mabel and Sid?’
Victoria shrugged. ‘Heaven only knows, but they kept it, so it must have been important to them.’
Daisy frowned. ‘Yes, but they didn’t put it in a frame or show us, not that we remember anyway.’
‘That’s true.’ Victoria looked around at the array of paperwork. ‘What else do we have?’
‘This is interesting, I think.’ Daisy frowned, as she reached for another cutting. ‘I’ve only given it a quick read, but it’s about a London doctor, who appears to be a specialist of some sort.’ Her eyes scanned the paper. ‘It looks like he was a heart and lung doctor.’
Victoria looked at her sister with troubled eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I know I keep saying it, but none of this makes any sense.’ She threw her arms wide. ‘Why have they got an article about a doctor?’
It was Daisy’s turn to shrug. ‘Do you think one of us was ill, at some point?’
A groan escaped from Victoria. ‘I wish I knew or remembered.’
Daisy clasped her sister’s hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘Hold on, with all the questions we’ve had, I almost forgot.’ She moved a couple of papers, and a black book became visible. ‘This might help.’ She picke
d it up and passed it to Victoria. ‘I say that, but I haven’t opened it, so I don’t know what’s inside.’
Victoria took the soft, leather-bound book from her sister. She rested it on her legs and stared down at it, wondering what to do. She gave a sigh and picked it up again. ‘I don’t know if I can open it.’
Daisy’s eyes were fixed on the book. Her voice was low when she finally spoke. ‘I don’t think we have any choice, if we’re going to try and make sense of all this stuff.’
Victoria thrust the book at her sister. ‘You do it, then.’
Daisy held it tight, turning it one way, then the other. ‘All right.’ She paused. ‘Here goes.’ She bent the cover and let the pages quickly flicker from one end to the other. ‘It looks like a diary. Perhaps you’re right, we shouldn’t read someone else’s private thoughts; it’s not like a crime has been committed here.’
Victoria nodded her agreement.
Daisy looked around, her eyes wide with amazement, before placing the diary back on the floor. ‘Are you sure these beautiful silk blouses were Ma’s?’ She stood up and pulled a cream and navy blouse free of the pile of clothes on the bed. ‘I don’t know much about these things, but this is so soft and silky, it must be expensive.’ She held out the sleeve of the blouse. ‘It doesn’t look like it’s been worn.’
Victoria squashed the material between her forefinger and thumb. ‘I know, it doesn’t make sense. They never had the money to buy expensive clothes. It’s a bit confusing, isn’t it?’
Daisy folded the blouse and placed it back on the bed. ‘None of it makes sense.’
Victoria pushed herself upright. ‘There are these, as well.’ She bent down and pulled open the bottom drawer of the seven-drawer chest, revealing neatly folded baby clothes. ‘Why did Ma keep these?’
Daisy reached in and pulled out a couple of knitted, pale blue baby jumpers.
Victoria picked up the letters that were on the bedside table. ‘These were hidden inside a jumper.’ She handed them to her sister. ‘I haven’t read them, mainly because it feels wrong to.’
Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop (The Foyles Girls) Page 10
