a heartwarming WW1 saga about love and friendship (The West End Girls Book 1)

by Elaine Roberts

  Rose grabbed Joyce’s arm. ‘Is that him?’ Not waiting for an answer, she continued. ‘He’s very handsome, no wonder you were keeping him a secret.’

  Joyce pulled her arm away. ‘I wasn’t keeping him a secret, he’s my boss.’

  Rose looked up at her, eyeing the redness in her cheeks. ‘There’s no need to get so cross, I’m only playing. Mind you if he’s single and you don’t want him then I might throw my hat at him.’

  Joyce shook her head. She looked over at him and something stirred deep inside her. What was that? Jealousy or was she just plain envious of Rose’s confidence? ‘You’re terrible. Feel free, I’m just the hired help.’ She walked away from the table and was back at the counter before she realised she hadn’t taken their order. She didn’t know what had gotten into her today. These were her friends, shouldn’t she just be honest with them? She picked up her notepad and strode purposefully over to her friends’ table. ‘Sorry, I forgot to take your order, what would you like to eat?’

  Annie looked up at Joyce’s pale features. ‘Are you all right? Don’t take any notice of Rose, you know what she’s like she just can’t help herself.’

  Rose put down her menu. ‘You do know I’m sitting here, don’t you?’

  Annie laughed at her friend’s indignant expression. ‘I’m sorry but you deserve all you get, it’s about time you learnt to think before you open your mouth. You clearly upset Joyce.’

  Joyce fidgeted from one foot to the other. ‘I’m fine honest, I’m quite used to her.’

  Annie glared at Rose. ‘That doesn’t make it right though.’

  Rose closed her eyes for a second. ‘All right, I’m sorry, but you should all be used to me by now. I don’t say anything to upset anyone on purpose. Well,’ she giggled, ‘apart from old Blakey back home that is.’

  Annie laughed. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’

  A mischievous smile slowly spread across Rose’s face.

  ‘What?’ Annie frowned. ‘And don’t say nothing because I can see your mind’s jumping about all over the place. So, I know the next thing that’s going to come out of your mouth won’t be good.’

  Rose’s mouth dropped open. ‘Charming! It’s lovely to have such good friends and to be thought of as a loving, caring person.’

  Annie couldn’t resist smiling. ‘So, go on, spit it out. You know you want to.’

  ‘I was only thinking…’ Rose paused. ‘I was only thinking how you have an admirer and you aren’t even aware of it.’

  Annie lifted her hand to her chest. ‘Me?’

  The girls watched her surprise turn to shock as her eyes darted left and right trying to remember if she’d missed something.

  ‘I can’t wait any longer.’ Rose laughed. ‘I knew you were unaware of the looks he gave you.’

  ‘Who?’

  Joyce giggled. ‘Peter.’

  Rose slapped her hand down on her lap. ‘Ah, see, I wasn’t the only one to notice.’

  Colour flooded Annie’s cheeks, while her stomach churned nervously. ‘Nonsense.’

  Joyce smiled at her friends but had the urge to rescue Annie from the embarrassment she was clearly feeling. ‘Anyway, thank you for the apology; I’m just in a strange mood today. I think it’s all this talk of war, it’s all everyone’s talking about.’

  Annie nodded gratefully. ‘You must hear a lot about it here. At the theatre we just keep hearing the show must go on. I should buy a paper every day so I know what’s happening; I did for a couple of days but it’s all so depressing.’

  Joyce nodded. ‘That’s the trouble with a café. Someone came in early this morning and was telling us that Kitchener had made what he called a “Road Hogs of War” speech. I didn’t hear everything he said but I think the gist of it was the Germans have invaded Belgium and they’re slaughtering women and children. That’s why we have to go to war to stop it all.’

  Rose and Annie paled as Joyce spoke.

  ‘That sounds awful.’ Annie paused. ‘Those poor people, they must be terrified.’ She shook her head. ‘Thank goodness there’s water between us and them, imagine if they came here.’ She shuddered. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’ Picking up her cup, Annie sipped her tea. She gasped, pulling the cup away as the hot liquid burnt her mouth.

  Joyce fidgeted from one foot to the other. ‘Maybe we should go to the pictures and watch the Pathé News for ourselves. That way at least we’ll know the truth about what’s going on.’

  *

  Rose sat on her bed with her knees up and her notebook resting against them. Her pencil glided lightly over the paper as she scribbled and ran her fingertip over the lines, smudging them in places. She started to write a small note at the bottom of the page when a rap at her door startled her. She snapped the book shut and pushed it under her pillow. ‘Come in.’

  The door handle grated as it turned to open. Annie poked her head round the door. ‘Are you up for company?’ She smiled. ‘I’ve brought cups of tea.’

  ‘I’m always up for a cup of tea.’

  ‘Considering we live in the same house and work in the same place we never seem to have a chance to chat like we used to back home.’ Annie pushed the door open with her foot as she bent down to pick the tray up off the floor.

  ‘I know what you mean. Maybe we should make this a daily thing or even weekly.’

  Annie nodded. ‘That’s a good idea, I miss our little chats.’ Annie placed the tray on top of the chest of drawers. ‘Joyce said if I’m not down in a few minutes she’d be up so I’ve brought three cups.’ She walked through the doorway and closed the door with a nudge of her arm. ‘She’s just talking to her uncle and I thought I should leave them to it.’

  Rose raised her eyebrows. ‘Are they arguing?’

  ‘Not yet, but I’m always nervous her uncle’s temper isn’t very far away.’

  ‘I wonder why he drinks so much. He’s quite a pleasant man when he’s sober.’

  Annie gave a wry smile. ‘Not that we see that very often, but you’re right, there must be a reason. Do you know what happened to his wife?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘No, I thought she had died but now I’m not so sure if she didn’t just leave him.’

  Annie frowned. ‘Why do you say that?’

  Rose shrugged. ‘I don’t know it’s just a feeling I have.’ She watched Annie pour out two cups of tea. ‘They never talk about her, and I’m almost certain they had a son. So where is he, and why aren’t there any photographs?’

  Annie walked towards the bed with the two cups and passed one to Rose. ‘Maybe that’s why he drinks so much, I mean it’s hard for a woman to bring up children by herself so she must have been pretty desperate to leave him. Let’s face it, he doesn’t seem to be short of money.’

  Rose frowned. ‘He must be drinking most of it.’ She gazed down into her cup. ‘I seem to recall my ma saying he worked long hours on the docks, but knowing me I could have the wrong relative. I want to ask Joyce but I don’t want to pry if it’s a sensitive subject.’

  Annie chuckled.

  ‘What?’ Rose raised her eyebrows. ‘What did I say that would warrant laughter? I was serious.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘I know you were, that’s what was so funny. I’ve never known you to allow a sensitive subject to stop you from having your say before.’

  Rose smiled for a moment. It gradually faded. ‘Well, this is different. We’re not in the village now and Joyce is our friend.’

  Annie nodded. ‘You’re right. Anyway, how’s the seamstress life in the theatre?’

  Rose grinned. ‘I love it. Miss Hetherington is a bit hard work. She doesn’t like me very much or my work. She’s always criticising and thinks she’s too important to talk to the likes of you and me. Having said that, Stan – or perhaps I should say Mr Tyler – popped his head in to see how I was getting on and he’s much more important than Miss Hetherington.’

  Annie lifted her cup to sip the hot tea. ‘Do you give her lip like you did to the gre
engrocer back home?’

  ‘No.’ Rose looked indignant. ‘I wouldn’t dare, I love my job too––’ A light rap on the bedroom door, barely audible, interrupted their chatter. ‘Come in.’

  Joyce opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. ‘Sorry, I was a bit longer than I intended to be. Is there any tea left?’

  Annie frowned. ‘Of course. Is everything all right?’

  Joyce nodded. ‘This is nice, a little girly chat.’

  Annie poured the dark liquid from the pot into a tea strainer, which rested on top of a cup. ‘I hope it won’t be too strong, it’s been brewing for a while.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be fine.’ Joyce unpinned her light brown hair and let it fall to her shoulders. She shook her head and ran her long fingers through it.

  ‘You should wear your hair down more often.’ Rose studied Joyce for a moment, wondering whether to ask about her aspirations to cook for a living. Remembering the notebook under her pillow she decided against it; she didn’t want any attention to be aimed at her.

  Annie handed Joyce her cup of tea. ‘We were just talking about Rose and her job as a seamstress at the theatre.’

  Joyce sipped the tea and wrinkled her nose. ‘This is a bit strong.’ She glanced at Rose. ‘Are you not enjoying it?’

  Rose laughed. ‘I love it. I was just telling Annie Miss Hetherington, who’s in charge of me, seems to dislike me for some unknown reason.’

  Joyce shrugged. ‘As long as you know you are doing a good job and are respectful, I wouldn’t worry about it.’

  ‘Joyce is right.’ Annie paused. ‘Actually, you don’t know what she’s got going on in her life, I mean she shouldn’t take it out on you but that’s what people do isn’t it?’ She turned to Joyce. ‘Have you asked Simon, about your baking yet?’

  Joyce shook her head. ‘I haven’t found the right time yet.’ Her face suddenly lit up. ‘Did I see a certain someone walking arm in arm along Shaftesbury Avenue with Peter?’

  Heat immediately swamped Annie’s body and her face turned crimson. ‘Yes, he took me to Foyles Bookshop.’ She turned to Rose. ‘I’d just got back when I met you to go to Meet and Feast.’

  Rose smiled. ‘You kept that quiet.’

  Annie tilted her head slightly and grinned. ‘No, it wasn’t a secret, I was going to tell you so we could go there together. I swear I’ve never seen so many books and everyone who worked there seemed so lovely. I can quite safely say if I ever give up on my dream, that’s where I want to work.’

  Joyce giggled. ‘You liked it then. And how was your time with Peter?’

  ‘He was a perfect gentleman.’ Annie laughed. ‘In all seriousness he was great company.’

  Rose watched Annie’s eyes light up at Peter’s name. ‘Do I pick up there’s romance in the air?’

  ‘Nooo, we only went to the bookshop. I think he felt sorry for me because I was on my own.’

  Joyce and Rose smiled at each other.

  ‘What?’

  Joyce was the first to speak. ‘I’ve noticed when we’re all together Peter’s eyes never leave you for long.’

  ‘Likewise, you watch him when you think no one is looking.’ Rose reached over and patted Annie’s knee. ‘It’s all right, you’re allowed to be attracted to him, he’s not married or anything.’ Rose turned quickly to Joyce. ‘He’s not, is he?’

  ‘No, he’s a good, kind man. You could do a lot worse than him.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘I think you two are getting ahead of yourselves, we only walked to Charing Cross Road together.’

  ‘Arm in arm.’ Joyce winked at Rose.

  Annie chuckled. ‘Will you two behave yourselves?’

  Rose glanced across at Joyce. ‘From what I hear Peter’s not the only one who has his eye on you.’

  ‘What?’ Annie frowned. ‘Now what are you talking about?’

  Inside the bedroom, it was silent for a moment. People’s voices carried up from the street along with a car backfiring.

  Rose wished she hadn’t said anything but she wanted Annie to know what people were saying about her. She took a deep breath. ‘Matthew Harris.’

  Joyce looked confused. ‘Who’s Matthew Harris?’

  Annie shook her head. ‘He’s no one, people just like to gossip.’

  Rose raised her eyebrows and turned to Joyce. ‘He’s the musical director at the theatre and seems to have taken a shine to Annie.’

  Annie sighed. ‘No, he hasn’t, that’s utter rubbish. He’s giving me singing lessons every morning before I start work. It’s to help me get on the stage, which I think is very kind of him.’

  ‘That must be costing you a pretty penny.’ Joyce frowned. ‘Especially if he’s the musical director, these things don’t come cheap. Have you mentioned him to Peter?’

  ‘Why do I need to mention it to Peter?’ Annie felt a surge of anger flow through her veins. ‘Anyway, he knows already – remember Sunday morning on Westminster Bridge. It’s just singing lessons and, let’s face it, it’s nobody else’s business.’

  Joyce bent down and put her cup and saucer on the floor by her feet. ‘Yes, I do remember now. He didn’t look happy at just the mention of his name.’ She glanced up again. ‘How much is he charging you?’

  Annie stared down at the floorboards. ‘He’s not at the moment. He thinks I have what it takes to make it on the stage and he wants to help me to do just that.’

  ‘Just be careful, I’m not saying he is but some people use their position to get what they want.’

  Rose’s lips tightened. ‘This was never going to be an easy conversation for us to have but apparently he has a reputation for going after young girls, so you do need to be careful.’

  ‘That’s nonsense; he’s been an absolute gentleman so I won’t hear a bad word said about him.’ Annie frowned. ‘I don’t know why people have to be so mean.’ Bert’s words immediately jumped into her head – is that what he’d meant when he was talking about people not always being as nice as they seem?

  10

  Annie gripped her handbag, which held the precious letter from home; her mother’s words had been echoing around in her head all morning. “Your father and I have talked and he regrets the way you left. He hopes you are doing well, as indeed do I.” She was beaming, and getting some strange looks as she walked along The Strand towards the round frontage of The Aldwych Theatre, but she didn’t care. Annie undid the buttons of her coat as she pulled open the stage door and walked in removing her hat and scarf. The door banged shut behind her. The noise made her jump as it bounced off the walls. She was glad to be inside out of the unusually warm October sunshine. Annie gave a little shiver; the theatre was quite eerie first thing in the morning when no one was around. To her ears her footsteps sounded louder than usual so she found herself walking towards the stage on tiptoe. The tinkling sound of a piano being played reached her. It wasn’t long before she saw Matthew sitting with his eyes closed; his fingers dancing along the black and white keys. She watched him for a moment; he was undeniably handsome.

  Matthew’s eyes snapped open. He smiled before standing up and walking towards her. ‘Let me take your coat.’

  Annie put her handbag down on a chair.

  Matthew slowly removed her coat from her shoulders and dropped it on to the nearby chair where she had left her handbag.

  Annie picked up her coat and folded it neatly before laying it against the back of the chair. ‘I can’t believe how warm it is today.’ She looked out at the hundreds of red seats that faced the stage. She looked up at the ceiling trying to decide whether the Aldwych Theatre was as grand as the Lyceum. It didn’t matter, she loved it all the same; it was a feast for her eyes.

  Matthew took her hand and guided her towards his piano. ‘It’s October. I’m sure it will soon get colder so make the most of it.’ Matthew ran his fingers lightly over his piano keys; the sound echoed in the empty theatre.

  Annie rested her fingers on the edge of the highly polished piano lid. ‘I do
n’t like the winter but I do love the autumn colours, the golds and reds of the leaves on the trees.’ She sighed. ‘It was always so beautiful to watch the seasons change back home.’ She peered at Matthew. ‘Do you have a favourite season?’

  ‘No, I don’t think about them at all, except whether I need a coat or not.’ Matthew frowned as he eyed Annie’s hands. ‘Would you like to stop leaving finger marks on my piano?’

  Annie quickly drew her hands away. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to—’

  ‘Right, are we going to be talking nonsense all day or are you going to start warming your voice, musically rather than talking?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Annie breathed deeply and sung out her scales as he had instructed her to do on their first lesson together, just four months ago. He didn’t take his eyes off her as her voice grew in power. ‘Very good, we’ll have you singing on this stage before you know it, especially if you keep practising.’

  Matthew passed her a music sheet. ‘Try the chorus from the song “They All Follow Me”.’

  Beads of perspiration formed on Annie’s forehead.

  Matthew shook the paper in front of her. ‘Come on, it won’t bite.’

  Annie hesitated for a moment before taking it. ‘Doesn’t Kitty sing this in The Belle of New York?’

  ‘Yes, but you’re only practising, and anyway she won’t be singing it for much longer.’

  Annie’s eyes widened. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t look so worried, the show finishes in a couple of weeks.’ Matthew chuckled. ‘Come on now, she doesn’t own the song.’ He started playing the chorus for her to join in.

  She gave a faltering start and was immediately behind with the chords.

  Matthew reached out and stroked her arm. ‘Come on don’t be nervous, you can do it.’

  Annie’s heart was racing in her chest. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘I don’t see why not.’ Matthew let his hand rest on top of hers. ‘Although you do still have some way to go yet.’ His fingers gently stroked her hand. ‘But we’ll get there.’

  Annie moved her hands away and ran them through her hair. ‘It’s very kind of you to spend time with me, and to not charge me anything is incredible. I’m so grateful.’