Rose smiled, her gaze moving from Joyce to Charlie. ‘Never mind, it hasn’t been a waste of time. It does you good to get out, see the sights and blow the cobwebs away.’
‘Hmm, anyway, we best get going.’ Joyce waved and took a step forward. ‘I expect I’ll see you on my way to work tomorrow, Mr Young.’
Charlie smiled and waved. ‘I’m here every day if any of you want to pop in for a chat or a cup of tea.’
‘Thank you.’ Rose waved and fell into step with Joyce and Peter. ‘I may take you up on that.’
‘I’m sorry I’ve taken us the long way round, I obviously just wasn’t thinking.’ Joyce gave Rose a sideways glance. ‘But, as you say, Rose, it wasn’t a waste of time.’
Despite the cold weather Rose could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.
Joyce looked across at her. Thanks to the intermittent gas streetlights lighting the way, the evening was not quite dark enough to hide her flushed face.
Rose glanced up and down Shaftesbury Avenue. ‘Is it always so busy? If it wasn’t for the sky changing it would be hard to tell the difference between night and day.’
Peter chuckled. ‘That’s true, it’s all the pubs, theatres and restaurants.’ He looked up and down the road. Cars drove slowly passed the horse and carts making their deliveries. Men, women and children sat huddled together in shop doorways, trying to keep warm.
Laughter and loud voices grew louder as doors opened and plumes of smoke escaped into the night. Two older men tumbled through an open public house doorway. One was holding up the other; both had cigarettes clinging to their bottom lip as they staggered along the road. Rose immediately glanced at Joyce’s flushed face; was it the cold that was causing it or was she wondering if that was how her uncle looked when he came out of one late afternoon?
Peter nudged Joyce. ‘Is that Meet and Feast with its light still on?’
‘Simon, should have gone home hours ago.’ Joyce quickened her pace until she stood outside the café.
Simon was sitting at one of the tables poring over paperwork. He looked pale and his hair was ruffled. Joyce had never seen it look so unruly. She jumped as he suddenly threw down his pen and ran his fingers through his hair. Was there a problem with the café? It was obvious something was wrong but should she let him know she was there for him? Before she had any time to think she found herself knocking on the window.
Simon jerked and his clouded eyes darted to the window and back at his paperwork. He gathered it all together and pushed it to one side before waving at Joyce. He stood up and indicated they moved to the wooden and glass door. Simon turned the key and pulled open the door; the bell over the door rang out. ‘Hello, what are you three doing? It’s a bit cold to be out for a walk.’ He forced a smile and let his gaze take them all in.
Joyce eyed him suspiciously. ‘We’re going to meet Annie from work. What are you doing working so late?’ She lowered her eyes. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be asking, I forget my place sometimes.’
Simon stared at her for a moment before turning away and walking back to the table. ‘It’s just paperwork.’
‘I was watching you and you looked worn down by something. Perhaps you need to share the problem with someone, they say that helps sometimes.’
Peter pushed the door closed, the ringing of the bell making everyone glance in his direction. ‘Sorry, I was just shutting the door.’
Joyce bit her bottom lip before taking a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry but it looks more than just paperwork. You looked quite worried before you realised we were standing there.’
Simon frowned as he looked at Peter and Rose before letting his gaze rest on Joyce.
Peter coughed. ‘Look, why don’t Rose and I go to the theatre to meet Annie and we’ll collect you on the way back?’
Joyce’s eyes widened as panic took hold. ‘He may not want me here if he’s busy.’
‘Of course I do. You’re as much a part of this as I am.’ Simon nodded. ‘That would be a good idea, thank you.’
Peter walked over to give Joyce a hug. He frowned, she felt thin under her threadbare coat. ‘Don’t look so worried, are you all right?’ He pulled back, leaving his hands resting on her arms as he studied her face.
Joyce nodded.
Peter frowned. ‘If the lights are out, I shall assume that Simon has been a gentleman and walked you home.’ He turned to look at Simon, who nodded. ‘Good.’ He stepped back. ‘Come on Rose, let’s go.’
Rose stepped forward and took Joyce’s cold hand and gave it a little shake. ‘Don’t look so worried, have fun and let Simon know about your own dreams.’
Simon’s gaze darted between the three of them. ‘Dreams, what dreams?’
Peter also looked confused as Rose stood smiling at the group. ‘Come on, Peter, my work here is done, at least for now.’ She jerked at Peter’s arm pulling him towards the door. The bell rang out again as they stepped through the doorway.
Joyce gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’s nothing, take no notice of Rose.’
Rose looked over her shoulder and glared at Joyce. ‘Make her tell you, Simon, it’s important.’
It was Peter’s turn to drag Rose outside. The bell chimed again as the door shut.
Simon took Joyce’s hand and led her to the table he had been sitting at when they arrived. ‘Would you like a hot drink?’
Joyce smiled. ‘I can make it.’
‘No, you wait on everyone all the time, me included. Let me do something for you, even if it is only a cup of tea.’
Joyce followed Simon out to the small kitchen, dominated by ovens and an old wooden table. There was a clean smell of bleach mingled with disinfectant in the air. He filled up the kettle and put it on the range, thankful he had kept it going. She watched him closely, mesmerised by his every move.
Simon turned round to face her.
Joyce immediately blushed.
‘Are you hot? Take your coat off for a minute, otherwise, I’ve heard said, on many occasions, you won’t get the benefit of it when you go outside again.’
Joyce laughed. ‘That sounds like the sort of thing your granny would say.’
‘That’s true but everyone knows mothers and grandmothers are always right.’ Simon beamed at her. ‘And, you get offered a thick ear if you don’t listen to them.’
Joyce laughed as she unbuttoned her coat. ‘Ah yes, I remember those days, not that I ever got one.’
Simon chuckled as he turned to spoon the loose tea leaves into a brown earthenware teapot and pour the hot water into it. ‘Nor me.’ He reached up and grabbed a couple of cups, saucers and teaspoons. ‘So, what’s this dream about?’
Joyce pushed open the swing door for Simon to walk through with the tray of tea things. ‘It’s nothing, Rose is just being mischievous that’s all.’
Simon placed the tray down on a table. ‘You can still share it with me though, can’t you?’
Joyce looked over at the pile of paperwork that he had left to make the tea.
Simon followed her gaze. ‘Don’t worry about that, it’s just about making ends meet, that’s all. Now talk to me.’
Joyce lifted the lid on the teapot and picked up a teaspoon to vigorously stir the darkening tea. ‘You know I used to live in the same village as Annie and Rose – that’s how we became firm friends, we go back a long way.’ The spoon chinked against the china saucer as she put it down.
‘And?’
Joyce sighed, her gaze fixed firmly on the teapot in front of her. ‘We each had our dreams, Annie always wanted to perform – well sing actually. I used to dream about being a cook – not to be confused with someone that just cooks fried breakfasts all day long.’ She looked at Simon and gave a small smile. ‘Not that there isn’t anything wrong with that but I wanted to bake pies and cakes and all kinds of things. Rose… actually, come to think of it, Rose never mentioned wanting to do anything in particular.’
Simon’s mouth dropped a little. ‘I never realised. You’ve never spoken about it in all th
e years you’ve worked here.’
Joyce forced a smile and picked up the teapot and began to pour the steaming liquid in to the cups. ‘It’s just a childish dream.’ She looked up and Simon was staring at her. She sighed, wishing she could throttle Rose for putting her in this embarrassing situation. ‘I used to bake bread with my ma when I was a child, and then it was any excuse to cook. She taught me from a very young age.’ She paused. ‘When I cook anything like that now I’m back to being the child in the kitchen with her, but you know how it is, life gets in the way sometimes so you just have to get on with it.’ She looked back over at the papers. ‘As no doubt you are finding out, I don’t suppose you wanted to own a café when you were growing up.’
Simon chuckled. ‘No, I know what you mean. I wanted to be an artist.’
‘Gosh, how wonderful, I can’t draw to save my life. Do you have anything you have done that I can look at?’
Simon could barely contain the laughter that was bubbling inside him. ‘At home. Maybe one day I’ll bring some in to show you, and then you’ll realise why I own a café.’
Butterflies flew around her stomach. Joyce fought the urge to touch his hand and reassure him. ‘I’m sure they’re not as bad as you think.’ To keep her hands busy, she picked up her cup to sip the tea but realised she hadn’t added any milk and put it back down again.
Simon watched her pick up the small milk jug to add a splash to her tea. ‘We need to think about how we can make your dreams come true.’
Joyce gasped. ‘I don’t think it’s doable. I have thought about leaving and starting my own restaurant but that takes money. I’ve even thought about going into domestic service as a cook but I have no experience, except at home and that’s not enough.’
Simon frowned. He reached out and took her hand in his. ‘You’re not going to leave, are you? I couldn’t manage without you.’ He waved his free hand around. ‘It’s only you that makes all this bearable.’
Joyce was lost in his touch. The softness of his hand on hers had taken her breath away. Her voice was a mumble when she finally spoke. ‘What?’
‘Look, give me time to think about this.’ Simon looked around the room. ‘Maybe we could introduce cakes and desserts and offer whatever pies you wish to cook.’ His voice rose as his excitement grew. ‘You’ll have to give me a list of ingredients so we can price how much they will cost to make and then we can work out the cost by slice.’ He squeezed her hand. His eyes sparkled. ‘You may be the saving of this café.’
Joyce watched him, trying to take in what he was saying but he was talking too fast for her. ‘I’m not leaving, unless you want me to.’
Simon shook his head. ‘Haven’t you heard a word I said? That’s definitely not what I want. We can make this work, I know we can.’
*
‘Hello Rose, don’t normally see you this time of night.’
Rose smiled. ‘Hello, Bert, we’ve just come to meet Annie.’ She turned to Peter. ‘This is Peter, Peter Lewis.’
Bert gave her a mischievous smile. ‘Is he your fella then?’
Rose shook her head and leant forward. A faint smell of carbolic soap caught in her nose. She held her hand upright against the side of her mouth. ‘I think he has his eye on Annie.’
Bert looked over at him and nodded. ‘You want to warn her about Matthew Harris then, he’s a wrong ’un. I’ve tried to tell ’er but she ain’t listening to me.’
Rose rested her hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry, Bert, we’ll talk to her.’ She fluttered her eyes at him. ‘I know we’re not meant to come in through the stage door but is it all right if we come inside and wait? It’s freezing outside. Annie doesn’t know we’re coming and we don’t want to miss her.’
Bert grinned at her. ‘You’re terrible you are. Go on, just don’t tell anyone I let you in otherwise I’ll lose me job. Be careful you don’t trip over anything, and if you do don’t make any noise because they’re still on stage.’
Rose leant up and kissed his ageing bristly cheek. ‘Thank you, you’re a star.’
Bert blushed. ‘Go on, off with yer before I get caught.’ He turned to Peter. ‘Yer watch yerself young man, she’ll get yer shot.’
Rose chuckled. ‘As if.’ She grabbed Peter’s hand. ‘Come on, before we all get shot.’
The pair of them raced down the corridor to the side of the stage where Rose knew she would find Annie. The noise of the audience clapping and cheering filled the theatre as the show came to an end. Rose knew her first job tomorrow would be to check every costume for any needed repairs. She tapped Annie on the shoulder as the cast was taking a bow.
Annie spun round on the curved heels of her ankle boots. Her face lit up when she saw Rose. She waved hello to her, as they were not allowed to talk so close to the stage.
Rose took her arm and stepped aside to show her Peter was with her.
Annie smiled but immediately lowered her eyelashes as she felt the colour rise into her cheeks.
The wings were suddenly a hive of activity of people running off stage. There was a lot of laughter and chatter from everyone. The performance had gone well. They got louder and louder, reaching a crescendo just as they were instructed to run back on for their final bow. The applause drowned out any conversation that could be going on. On cue, the curtain rope was released. The red curtains swished closed for the last time that evening.
Annie smiled and turned back to the others. ‘Isn’t it fabulous?’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘I can’t talk now, I’ve got to get to Kitty’s dressing room.’
‘That’s all right we’ll wait somewhere around here, out of sight.’ Rose took Peter’s hand and manoeuvred him to behind the stage where they couldn’t be seen.
Matthew’s voice boomed out. ‘Great night, everyone, well done.’ They watched him as he walked over to a young girl who had started to sweep the stage. He ran his hand down her back and whispered something they couldn’t hear and they both laughed. Matthew patted her bottom before making his way towards Annie, unaware that Peter and Rose could see him from their hidden position. ‘So Annie, isn’t it about time we went out for that dinner? Especially as you cancelled our intended Sunday lunch.’
‘I know, Matthew, I’m sorry.’ Annie pasted on her sweetest smile. ‘I have just been so busy lately.’
Matthew shook his head. ‘Too busy to have your singing lessons? Well, you do know your dream won’t happen if you can’t find an hour to spend with me.’ He paused, as he ran the side of his finger down her cheek. ‘Maybe it’s time to decide when you’re going to start making payments for them.’ His lips parted slightly. ‘Your skin is so soft, and you are quite beautiful. Kitty must be riddled with jealousy every time she looks at you. You’re wasted being a dresser, you should be on the stage where everyone can admire your beauty.’ He dropped his arm and cleared his throat. ‘And, let’s not forget your delightful singing voice.’
Rose gasped. She had a feeling she knew what was coming.
Peter took a step forward.
Rose reached out and gripped his arm tight. His muscles were taut as he clenched his hands into tight fists.
Annie blushed, her voice barely a whisper when she spoke. ‘Thank you for the compliment but I don’t think that’s true about Kitty, I quite enjoy being her dresser.’
‘Is that where you see yourself, being her dresser?’ Matthew’s eyes widened with shock. He looked disdainfully at her. ‘I can’t believe you are giving up on your childhood dream and are prepared to settle for being someone else’s servant.’ He took her hand in his and stroked it. ‘You shouldn’t ever give up on your dreams, you’ll always wonder if you could have made it.’
Annie’s mind jumped around trying to find an excuse to move away from Matthew without making him angry with her. She fidgeted from one foot to the other. Spying some paper on the floor, she snatched her hand away from his to pick it up. ‘I’m not giving up on my dream but I enjoy what I’m doing.’
‘I’m glad to hear it because there
are always other people I can help. It will be your loss not mine.’ Matthew kept his eyes transfixed on her. ‘Although, I can’t pretend I wouldn’t be disappointed to be losing out in the time invested in you. No one is indispensable.’
Annie frowned as she stared up at him. Her eyes darted from side to side as she tried to work out what he meant. ‘I don’t understand, all I know is I’ve just been so tired by the time I get home in the evenings.’ She folded her arms in front of her. ‘I know I’m not indispensable, Matthew, but please don’t give up on me. I promise I will show up in the morning.’
Matthew’s eyes sparkled. ‘Would you rather come to my home? It would be more relaxed… we could even have a drink or two?’
Rose took a deep breath. It was time for her best Kitty impression. ‘Annie, where are you?’
Startled, Peter looked sideways at Rose.
Annie jumped at her name being called. ‘I’ve got to go, I don’t want to keep Kitty waiting.’
Matthew ran his fingers down her back. ‘For a moment you were tempted to come and see where I live, I could tell, and you are more than welcome.’ He smiled and raised his eyebrows. ‘Anytime.’
Annie stepped away from him before looking up at him. ‘Thank you, but I must go.’
Matthew nodded. ‘I have a lot of influence around here so if you are serious about being on the stage don’t leave it too long, otherwise someone else will take the chance that you have been too slow to take advantage of.’
‘Thank you, I do appreciate all your help and support. I have enjoyed all my lessons and you have taught me a lot. I promise I’ll try and make it here tomorrow morning.’ Annie took another step away from him.
Rose shook her head and took another breath. ‘Annie.’
‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go, as you know Kitty doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’ Annie didn’t look back as she walked away from Matthew.
Matthew made an exasperated sound and thumped the wall nearby as Annie trotted towards Kitty’s dressing room.
Rose let out a sigh of relief.
Peter rounded on Rose. ‘You shouldn’t have stopped me.’
a heartwarming WW1 saga about love and friendship (The West End Girls Book 1) Page 19
