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

by Elaine Roberts

  ‘Pa, Mr Bradshaw, I’m so sorry, it was rude of me to not introduce you to each other but with… anyway, I’m sorry.’

  Tom and Arthur both looked up at Annie at the same time. Her hair was fluffed out where she had just got out of bed and hadn’t brushed it. Her eyes were red and her skin blotchy from the hours spent crying.

  Tom stood up and reached out for her. ‘Come here.’

  Panic gripped Annie. Her throat tightened as she took small steps to her father, expecting his wrath for bringing a stranger to the house at this time. ‘Mr Bradshaw got me here, Pa. I don’t remember much about anything after reading your telegram but he—’

  ‘Stop worrying, Arthur is an old friend – one I haven’t seen for years, mind.’ Tom glanced at Arthur who nodded. ‘But maybe that’s a story for another time. Come sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

  Arthur stood up. ‘Let me, especially as the first one wasn’t too bad.’

  Tom nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He turned to Annie as he pulled out a chair for her to sit on. ‘Is Margaret asleep?’

  ‘Yes, she’s not in a good way. Well, I suppose none of us are, it’s been such a shock.’ Annie shook her head as she slowly lowered herself on to the chair. ‘Did Ma see a doctor? Do we know what was wrong with her?’ She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry I shouldn’t be asking so many questions.’

  Tom studied his eldest daughter; his eyes started to well up. ‘I wish I had the answers for you but I don’t. The doctor thinks her heart just gave out.’

  A spoon clattered on to the stone flooring. Arthur turned to the two of them sitting at the kitchen table. ‘Sorry, I’ll try to be quieter.’ He turned back and dropped the spoon into the sink; finding a clean one he carried on spooning tea leaves into a teapot.

  Annie could feel the tears pricking at her eyes, her chest felt squeezed of air and her throat tight. She tried to take a deep breath but it hurt to breathe. Annie shook her head, she had to be strong for everyone, and her father would need both her and Margaret now. ‘What about David?’

  Tom sighed. ‘I was just saying to Arthur I don’t know whether to tell him or not.’

  ‘Surely you have to, I would certainly want to know.’

  Tom nodded. ‘I know.’

  A light knock at the door caused them all to stop and stare at it.

  Annie’s chair broke the silence as it scraped across the floor tiles. ‘Who can that be?’ She stood up to walk over to the door.

  Tom reached out and grabbed her arm. ‘Let me get it.’

  Annie shook her head and patted his hand. ‘No, Pa, it’s my job to protect you from people you don’t need to see right now.’ She stepped forward as he let his arm drop away from her. She stood in front of the closed front door and took a deep breath. She could feel Arthur’s and her father’s eyes boring into her back. She had to be brave for her father. Without another thought she opened the door. Her eyes widened with shock. ‘Rose, what are you doing here? Come in.’ Annie stepped aside to let her friend inside.

  Rose stared hard at her friend before throwing her arms around her. ‘I’m so sorry, Annie, I truly am.’ She took a small step back. ‘I’ve brought someone with me.’ She stepped aside.

  Annie’s mouth dropped open. ‘Dot?’

  ‘Dorothy?’ The two men spoke in time with Annie.

  Annie looked round at the two men, who had both taken a step forward towards the door.

  Dot paled as she looked in through the doorway. ‘Arthur?’

  Tom took another step forward. ‘Come in, Dorothy. Shut the door, Annie, you’re letting all the heat out.’

  Dot slowly stepped through the doorway. Her red, cold skin had suddenly drained of colour.

  The thud of the front door shutting seemed to galvanise everyone into action.

  Tom moved forward and wrapped his arms around his sister. ‘I don’t understand but I don’t care, you’re here and that’s all that matters right now.’ He squeezed her tight.

  Dorothy held on to her brother tight as tears streamed down her face. ‘I’m sorry to come now but I had to. I’m so sorry about David, how is Ivy doing?’

  Annie’s head jerked round to Rose. ‘You didn’t see the telegram?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘No, only the note Mr Bradshaw wrote for Joyce, which said you’d received a telegram and he was bringing you home.’

  The room was silent; the tension grew with each second that passed.

  Rose lifted her hands in the air. ‘I can’t stand it. What is it? What’s happened?’

  Annie took a deep breath. ‘It wasn’t about David. It’s Ma, she’s gone.’

  Dorothy pulled back from her brother.

  Rose shook her head. ‘What, gone left?’ She looked over at Tom. ‘I can’t believe she’s left you.’

  Annie grabbed Rose’s hand. A tear trickled down her cheek. ‘No, Rose, she’s passed away.’

  Rose threw her arms around her friend and squeezed her tight. She could feel Annie’s shoulders moving up and down as she quietly sobbed.

  Dorothy gasped. ‘I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was ill.’

  Tom shook his head, his eyes weary and flat. ‘None of us did, Dorothy. None of us did.’

  Arthur kept his eyes fixed on his beloved wife. How he hoped she would forgive him. He cleared his throat. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, I think I’ll be an expert in tea making by the time this night is over. Joyce will be proud of me.’

  ‘Dorothy, is that really you?’

  All eyes turned to stare at the stairs.

  ‘Pa.’ Tom and Dorothy spoke as one.

  William’s eyes glistened in the candlelight. He held out his arms and Dorothy ran into them.

  ‘Pa, I’m so sorry.’

  William squeezed her tight as the tears rolled down his cheeks. ‘It doesn’t matter, none of it matters. You are here, which is a dream come true.’

  19

  Tom stared down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He wasn’t sure writing to tell David about his mother was the right thing to do. He sighed. Ivy was the letter writer, not him; he didn’t know where to start. The cockerel crowed continually letting everyone know dawn had arrived.

  Annie watched her father’s troubled expression and knew he was in turmoil. She had already lit the range when he had crept down the stairs expecting to find the kitchen empty; the heat was beginning to filter through. She carried a cup of strong tea over to the kitchen table and placed it in front of him, thankful the others hadn’t come down yet.

  Tom looked up. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ He threw the pen down onto the table. ‘Would you really want to hear such news by letter?’

  Annie sat down next to him. ‘Pa, you’ve no choice, it’s not as though you can jump on the train to visit him.’ She lowered her voice to barely a whisper. ‘Imagine how he would feel if he was excited about coming home to see you and Ma and then found out, is that any better?’

  Tom put his hands up to his face and rubbed it hard. ‘But what if he is so upset, he gets killed? Then we’ve lost both of them.’

  Annie looked at her father through blurred eyes, feeling his pain. ‘What would Ma say? What would she want you to do?’

  Tom’s lips tightened. ‘Your ma was all about choice, letting you all live the life you want to live and not sit in judgment of you all.’ He took a deep breath. ‘She made me a better person.’

  Annie pressed her hand against the rough wool of her father’s jumper. ‘She will always be with you, with all of us. She’s in our hearts.’ Her throat tightened. She coughed trying to clear the lump that was forming. ‘I know it’s hard but do what you think she would want you to do, because that’s what you would have done if she was here.’

  Tom nodded and gave a small smile. ‘It doesn’t mean I would have liked doing it though.’

  Annie laughed. ‘No, but she was a very persuasive woman whose spirit lives on in all of us, so prepare yourself for what lies ahead.’

&
nbsp; Tom picked up the pen and began to write to his son.

  Dear David,

  This is a very difficult letter for me to write…

  *

  Annie stood up, her chair scraping across the floor.

  Tom looked up.

  ‘Sorry, Pa, I thought I’d leave you in peace so write what’s in your heart.’

  Tom gave a small smile. ‘You’re a good girl, Annie, thank you.’

  Annie nodded. ‘I love you, Pa.’ She bent over and kissed the top of his head. ‘It’s my regret that I never told Ma I loved her enough.’

  ‘You didn’t have to, she knew, and there’s nothing she wouldn’t have done for you.’

  ‘I know, Pa, I know.’ Annie took a step away from him. ‘I shall leave you to write your letter in peace.’ She picked up a white dish and walked over to the back door, putting on an old gardening coat that was hanging next to it.

  Tom watched her button it up. ‘Where are you going?’

  Annie smiled. ‘My job was always to sort out the chickens so that’s what I’m going to do, and I’ll collect the eggs for breakfast.’ She picked up an old metal dish and scooped some feed into it and opened the door, letting in the cold air, which chased the heat away. ‘I won’t be long.’ She gently closed the door.

  Tugging a woollen hat from the coat pocket, Annie pulled it on her head, making sure her ears were covered, and wandered over to the henhouse. She shook her head as she thought about her mother, unable to believe she wasn’t going to see her again. Annie thought about her own words to her father and what her mother would have wanted for her and the family. It was time for her to be strong and give up her dream for the family and do it with a good heart. Dot and Arthur jumped into her mind. Fancy not knowing they were husband and wife, and Joyce not knowing that Dot wasn’t that far away. Her mother’s passing had at least brought the family together again. Annie smiled; her mother would have been pleased about that, always one to find the good in any situation.

  Annie unlatched the henhouse, the hens clucking all around her feet. ‘You all right, ladies? Have you missed me?’ Her fingers went into the feed and she began scattering it on to the ground. ‘I’ve got something to tell you but you can’t repeat it to anyone.’ She leant against the wire fencing and watched the chickens pecking at the ground. ‘I’ve left my heart in London. His name’s Peter. Pa would love him, he believes in all the things Pa does, you know, working the land and all that.’ She frowned. ‘But I won’t be going back now, that love has to be boxed away with the dream of being on stage, so you’re back to listening to my endless chatter every day.’ Annie sighed. ‘I’m not sad about the stage – well, I am a little – but I shall miss Peter. Still it’s time to grow up and at least I experienced theatre life and met Peter, not that I know whether he felt the same about me.’ She pushed herself off the fence. ‘I would have talked to Ma about all this but… anyway, I’m going to need plenty of eggs over the next few days, we have more mouths to feed.’ She picked up another handful of seed and threw it around on the ground. ‘It’s a strange time, you won’t be seeing Ma anymore.’ Annie’s eyes welled up and she sucked in the cold air. ‘We have Dot here at the moment, but none of you will remember her. She’s Pa’s sister. We also have Arthur Bradshaw, he was Pa’s friend many years ago but he’s now Dot’s husband.’ She threw another handful of food down for them. ‘Rose was here but she’s gone home to see her family.’ She chuckled. ‘And I’m going to be locked away soon because I’m talking to you chickens like you understand me.’

  Annie went into the hut and gathered the eggs into the bowl. ‘You’ve done well, ladies, Ma would be proud of you.’ She unlatched the wooden gate and walked out, pulling the gate closed behind her. She stared out at the fields. ‘You know I’ve enjoyed being in London but I have missed all of this as well, it’s so quiet here compared to London.’ Annie looked back at the chickens. ‘Well, I’d love to stand and chat all day but it’s cold out here and I’ve got things to do.’ She slowly walked back to the house. While stamping the mud off her boots Annie reached out, opened the door and walked in. Voices reached her from the kitchen, it sounded like everyone was up. She pasted on her smile and walked through to the kitchen.

  *

  Stan sat on the chaise longue in Kitty’s dressing room. ‘Do I need to find you another dresser?’

  Kitty lifted her glass and took a sip of the white wine inside it. She peered over the edge of it and looked around the room. ‘You know I’m quite proud I’ve managed to keep it tidy since Annie’s been gone.’

  Stan laughed. ‘It’s only been just over a week, but yes, you have managed very well.’

  ‘I miss her, you know, she quietly went about her business and yet made a difference, and if I’m honest I don’t understand why.’

  Stan looked thoughtful. ‘I think it’s because she didn’t ask for anything from you. All your life people have used you to their own ends but Annie didn’t. I think she genuinely admired you and wanted to look after you.’

  Kitty smiled. ‘How much wine have you had?’ She took another gulp of her drink.

  Stan laughed and put down his glass. ‘Clearly too much. If I’m not careful I’ll be declaring my undying love for you next.’

  Kitty spluttered as her mouthful of wine ran down her throat.

  Stan patted her on the back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you choke.’

  Kitty gasped for air. ‘What did you expect, Mr Tyler, playing with me when I’m drinking?’

  Colour began to rise up Stan’s neck. ‘Who says I’m playing?’

  ‘I do, it’s the wine talking. We’ve worked together for years and we’ve never so much as kissed each other.’

  ‘No.’ Stan’s colour deepened. ‘But how many shows have we worked on together? I know I’ve lost count, but at least I could keep you close to me until you were ready to settle down.’

  Kitty jumped up. ‘Stop playing with me, Stan.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  Kitty walked over to the sink and tipped the wine out of her glass, watching it disappear down the plughole. ‘Then talk to me when you haven’t been drinking.’ She turned to look at Stan. ‘I need your help. It’s not for me, it’s for Annie and my last dresser but I won’t take advantage. We’ll talk another day.’ A resounding knock on Kitty’s dressing room door made them both jump. ‘Come in.’

  The door opened and Miss Hetherington stepped in.

  ‘Mr Tyler, I need to talk to you about my lack of seamstresses. With Dorothy and Rose gone, I’m being kept extremely busy.’

  Kitty smiled. ‘What’s the matter, Jane, are you having to do some work yourself instead of lording it over everyone?’

  Jane glared at Kitty. ‘You had no business saying they could both go off without checking with me first.’

  ‘But you would have said no.’ Kitty frowned. ‘And none of the girls have missed a day since they have been here so doesn’t a family crisis deserve time off? Or have you totally forgotten how to be human and feel other people’s pain?’

  Jane turned to Stan. ‘I have a crisis going on in my own department that needs addressing, Mr Tyler, and I’m looking to you to do that.’

  Stan stood up and eyed Jane Hetherington. ‘I will next week if none of them are back by then but until then we muddle through, even if it means you have to do more than manage the inventory.’ He watched her face turn thunderous.

  ‘How ridiculous! It takes time to find a good seamstress and I hear that a lot of women are taking on some of the men’s work in factories because it’s more money. How are we meant to compete with that?’

  Stan sighed. ‘We don’t compete, we treat people that work for us better.’ He paused. ‘Remember where you came from, Jane. We were all young at some point, we’ve all needed someone to help us along, to encourage us and I’m not going to make them out of work, or worse, homeless because you can’t be patient, so we wait.’

  Kitty clapped her hands with joy.

  J
ane glared at Kitty and Stan in turn before turning away. ‘Between the alcohol and the perfume, it smells like a brothel in here.’ She slammed the door on the way out.

  Kitty giggled. ‘I think we’ve upset her.’ She sniffed the air. ‘I’ve never been in a brothel, is this really what they smell like?’

  Stan laughed. ‘Why are you asking me?’

  *

  Dorothy and Annie walked out to the fields that surrounded the house. Their footsteps imprinted into the crisp white snow that had fallen overnight, leaving their mark along with the birds and other small animals that had left paw prints on show.

  Annie breathed in deeply, enjoying the freshness of the air. ‘I can’t get my head around that my Aunt Dorothy, Dot and Mr Bradshaw’s wife are all the same person. Why didn’t you say something?’

  Dot gazed ahead, drinking in the view of white nothingness. There were no buildings to get in the way, no traffic noise, just dogs barking and the rooster crowing. ‘I didn’t know myself until recently but then I didn’t know how to approach it or if I was even right or not.’

  Annie shook her head. ‘Well, I’m glad it’s all out in the open.’ She paused. ‘As much as it was a shock for all concerned, my father was genuinely pleased to see you.’

  Dot tightened her lips for a moment. ‘As I was him, although I have to say I wasn’t expecting to see Arthur here. That totally stopped me in my tracks.’

  Annie adjusted the basket that was resting on her arm. ‘What will you do? Wait, before you answer, you need to know he was a broken man when Rose and I arrived at the house. He has kept all your things in the basement and I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t drinking a lot but he seems to have cleaned himself up.’