The Liberty Girls

by Fiona Ford

  ‘Haven’t you been called up yet?’ Joy asked incredulously.

  Mary shook her head. ‘No, I’m listed as Malcolm’s carer so it’s unlikely.’

  ‘Something I’m grateful to you for, Mary love,’ Malcolm said fervently. ‘What about you, Joy? Haven’t you received your papers yet? It’s terrible you young girls being dragged in to fight like this.’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ Joy said with a smug smile. ‘Rumour has it if you work in a posh hotel then they probably won’t make you do anything else as you’re seen to be helping out the posh folk that make all the important war decisions.’

  At the knowing statement the girls roared with laughter. ‘That can’t be true,’ Aggie snorted.

  ‘It blinkin’ well is,’ Joy insisted. ‘Posh nobs need someone to wait on ’em.’

  ‘Where did you get this from, Joy?’ Alice chuckled.

  Joy eyed her sister crossly. ‘I’m not making it up. Anyway, I have got something else I want to talk to you about.’

  ‘If it’s another joke like the last one, I think we’d all like to hear it,’ Flo said.

  Rolling her eyes, Joy ignored the sarcasm. ‘Actually I wanted to invite you girls to tea at Mayfair House. Perhaps one weekend after you get back from Bath, Alice?’

  Alice gasped in amazement. ‘That’s a lovely offer, Joy, but we can’t afford that.’

  ‘I get a discount being staff so it won’t cost that much. It’s a way of celebrating my new job. Come on, it’ll be fun, and it might cheer Rose up too. What do you say?’

  As Alice cast a glance towards Rose, she saw how the girl was still nervously gripping her stick across the other side of the room. These past few months had taken their toll on all of them; it would be lovely to enjoy such a fancy treat. Looking back at her friends she caught the excited expressions on Flo and Mary’s faces. ‘I think we all say yes, Joy, if it’s really no trouble,’ she said. Perhaps this would be what the doctor ordered, and just the thing to lift Rose’s spirits too.

  Chapter Ten

  The train to Bath was cramped and crowded as it snaked its way through the grimy streets of London and out into the lush green countryside of the West Country. Finding a seat next to a GI who was poring over The Times crossword, Alice sat with her thoughts. It had been heartbreaking saying goodbye to Arthur, and Dot had almost had to shove her out of the door when the time came. She knew it wasn’t for long, but the idea of leaving her child felt so wrong, it was as though someone had severed her right arm.

  As she gazed out of the window feeling forlorn, Alice tried to relax. She had always loved taking the train to Bath when she joined the Liberty buyer, Mr Charleston, on his visits to the Jolly’s agents. Diligently she would take notes while he talked and afterwards he would treat her to a Sally Lunn bun. But then of course war had broken out and he, along with much of the male workforce, had been called up. Now, buyers weren’t really needed as there was scarcely anything for people to purchase, so visits to agents around the country were rare, and usually carried out by a senior saleswoman or department head.

  Looking down at the plain gold band on her ring finger, Alice twisted it idly as she realised that never in a million years would she have predicted that she would have to be both mother and father to her boy – especially after she had worked tirelessly to ensure her son would grow up in the warm, loving and contented family that she never did.

  As the late April sunshine hit the golden stone buildings, Alice revelled in her first glimpse of the city as she gathered her belongings and prepared to step off the train. For some reason Alice had always felt very at home in Bath, finding something comforting about the sight of the countryside and hills perched high above the city itself. Naturally it was a world away from London but Alice had always felt the city had a lot in common with the capital, what with its beautiful architecture, smart shops and reputation for entertainment.

  While she looked at the crowds of GIs laughing good-naturedly with one another as they stood back to let her off the train, Alice couldn’t help wondering if that’s why they were headed to Bath. Perhaps it was unfair, but there was something about the slow way they moved, their laconic speech, the cut of their uniforms and their generally easy manner that made her think they just didn’t work as hard as British soldiers. She was forever hearing stories about lazy Yanks from customers who came into the shop, and, as pleasant as many of them seemed, she couldn’t help wondering if they lived up to their reputation.

  Pushing her way through the small crowd that had gathered by the stone steps, Alice realised there was no time to think about that now as she glanced up at the large station clock. It was almost noon, the train had taken longer than she’d expected, and now there was just an hour before her meeting with Mrs Downing.

  Still, as the station wasn’t too far from Jolly’s she knew she would still have time to go over exactly what she wanted to say as she strolled up to the store. In all honesty, although Alice knew that Mr Button and Mrs Claremont were concerned that some of the Liberty’s agents would be reluctant to embrace utility fabric and clothing, she couldn’t imagine Mrs Downing would give her any problems. The woman had always been so supportive of anything to do with Liberty’s in the past, always professing to adore the lace and silks they routinely kept in stock.

  With the sunshine warming her back Alice enjoyed the change in scenery. There were no bombed-out ruins or heaps of rubble lining the streets. In fact, in Bath it was almost possible to pretend war didn’t exist. Walking through the Georgian streets the sights and sounds of a city bustling with life made Alice feel as if London was a million miles away.

  Jolly’s department store was affectionately known to the locals as the Old Lady of Milsom Street. As Alice approached she was pleased to see that the window displays boasted Liberty prints, and felt a shiver of hope that her task this afternoon would be relatively straightforward.

  Stepping back to get a proper look at the centrepiece of the store’s window display, Alice didn’t see the young GI behind her, and managed to send the poor man flying.

  ‘Oh my days,’ she cried, spinning around in horror to find the GI sprawled on the pavement surrounded by his shopping bags. ‘I’m so sorry!’

  ‘That’s quite all right, ma’am,’ he replied, politely tipping his cap as he scrambled to his feet.

  ‘Here, let me help you,’ Alice babbled as she reached out to help the man and his bags up.

  From his position on the ground the man looked up in amusement at Alice’s offer to lift him up. ‘I think I can manage, ma’am.’

  Ignoring his protestations Alice bent over to collect his bags. ’I really am so sorry.’

  ‘There’s no harm done, ma’am. It was my fault; I should have been watching where I was going.’

  ‘No,’ Alice insisted. ‘It’s very sweet of you to try and make out you were at fault but really the blame is mine. Are you hurt at all?’

  The man laughed. ‘It was just a bump to the knee. In the military we get that all the time.’

  Alice laughed too as she looked at the man before her. Tall with chocolate-brown hair, matching eyes and a wide-open face, Alice was surprised at how charming and polite he appeared to be. Taking a moment to admire the uniform that fitted his body like a glove, Alice could see why so many Englishwomen were drawn to the Americans who had descended on to their land.

  ‘Ma’am,’ the man said gently, cutting across Alice’s train of thought. ‘Could I trouble you for my bags back please?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Alice asked, feeling wrong-footed.

  ‘My shopping.’ The man smiled, pointing to the bags in Alice’s hands. ‘That you were kind enough to pick up for me.’

  ‘Oh God! Sorry! Yes, here you go.’ She held out the bags for the GI to take.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am. You have a good day now.’

  ‘Yes, you too,’ she said, watching in stupefied silence as he walked down the road, tipping his cap once more as he waved goodbye.

 
An hour later and Alice’s attempts at injuring a member of the US Military were forgotten as she sat in Mrs Downing’s office, surrounded by Liberty print guard books and cups of tea.

  From the moment she had arrived, Ivy Downing had welcomed Alice with open arms. She had demanded the latest news from Liberty’s along with every detail about Arthur – facts Alice was more than happy to provide. In fact the two women were so consumed with gossip it took them a good hour before they were able to get down to the business of work.

  ‘I must say that the quality and the range of prints on offer in utility fabrics really are exceptional,’ Mrs Downing breathed, running her fingers over one of Alice’s favourite designs, a blue floral print based on nerines.

  ‘I know. I don’t know how they do it but the fellas down in Merton print works are a godsend.’

  Mrs Downing smiled as she gazed down at the print. ‘It feels like a luxury, doesn’t it, to have anything nice during this blasted war.’

  Alice nodded. She understood only too well. The guilt that she – along with everyone else – felt at having even one nice thing when their brave boys on the front line were withstanding a torment she couldn’t understand, was considerable.

  ‘How has the war been treating you?’ Alice asked.

  ‘Oh, the same as everyone else.’ Mrs Downing sighed. ‘The problem for us in Jolly’s is that we suffered during the depression so we were already on the back foot.’

  ‘But the store is so beautiful,’ Alice said admiringly as she peered out of the office window that looked out on to the shop floor. From her position opposite Mrs Downing she could see the store’s trading motif, a peacock, depicted in a mosaic all the way along the ground floor. Above it stood a huge sweeping staircase that was so grand it would, Alice thought, give the one at Liberty’s a run for its money,.

  ‘Yes it is. Obviously with rationing it’s getting harder and harder to make everything as beautiful as we want it. But I really think Liberty’s are on to something with these fabrics and I will ensure they take pride of place in our store.’

  ‘Oh, Mrs Downing, I can’t thank you enough,’ Alice gasped, clasping her hands together with joy, ‘you’ve made my day.’

  ‘Not at all, dear.’ The drapery manager smiled as she handed Alice back the guard book. ‘You just keep sending the fabric our way and I’ll do the rest.’

  With that Alice got to her feet and allowed Mrs Downing to show her out of her office.

  ‘Do you have time for a tour of the store before you go home?’

  Alice’s face flushed with pleasure. ‘Yes please. I’m staying tonight so in no rush to get the train.’

  Mrs Downing clamped an elegant hand around Alice’s forearm excitedly. ‘You should have said. Would you like to come out with us later? A few of us are going to the Assembly Rooms – you could join us.’

  ‘Only if it’s no trouble,’ Alice said, excited at the thought of an evening out. ‘I don’t want to intrude.’

  ‘That’s the last thing you’ll be doing! It will be our pleasure to welcome you to the fold. Besides, with you working at Liberty’s you’re practically family and it will be our treat to show off our city.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, perhaps I could see you after tea?’ Alice suggested. She could hardly believe how successfully her day was turning out.

  Mrs Downing beamed in delight. ‘Perfect. I shall come and collect you at your bed and breakfast later on.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it!’ Alice replied.

  Chapter Eleven

  The room Alice had been given in the bed and breakfast was beautiful, right at the top of a Georgian townhouse near Pulteney Bridge; she could see across the rooftops of the city and out on to the countryside beyond.

  Feeling a sudden pang of delight at the possibility of a few hours’ uninterrupted sleep, Alice was beginning to see the one upside of a night away from her son. As she checked her wristwatch she saw it was almost eight. With just a few minutes before Mrs Downing called on her, Alice began rifling through her suitcase. She was half hoping someone had magically placed an elegant evening gown in there instead of the plain green tea dress that had been mended so many times it was more thread than fabric. Alice put it on and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. It was hardly high couture, she thought, tugging the dress this way and that, but it was the best she could do. Reaching for her dark green wool cardigan, she made her way downstairs and was delighted to see Mrs Downing was already waiting for her in the lobby. Spotting the Jolly’s matriarch sitting elegantly in her Liberty-print blouse and skirt, Alice felt instantly dowdy and foolish – she should have thought to have brought her own Liberty-print outfits, but had only brought the one she had worn down on the train for their meeting.

  ‘Mrs Downing, you look lovely.’ Alice smiled warmly as she greeted her new friend.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ Mrs Downing replied, smoothing an imaginary crease out of her skirt. ‘I thought I’d wear this in your honour. Oh, and while we’re at it, please call me Ivy while we’re not at work – this evening is meant to be fun.’

  With that, Mrs Downing led the way outside into a night bathed in moonlight. ‘We’re all meeting in the Assembly Rooms. Have you been there before?’

  ‘No. I’ve heard of it though.’

  ‘I should hope so! Jane Austen used to write about it in her books.’

  ‘I’ve never read Jane Austen,’ Alice admitted, feeling slightly guilty.

  Mrs Downing smiled. ‘Well, you’ll want to after tonight.’

  Thoughts of Mary flashed into Alice’s mind. She would have had her own debutante ball all those years ago – would it have been as grand as the balls held in the Assembly Rooms?

  Crossing the road, she walked into the stone building and gasped in delight. The word beautiful didn’t do the place justice, Alice thought as she took in the fine art on the walls, the stone pillars and crystal chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceilings. It all reeked of grandeur.

  Weaving her way through the elegantly dressed clientele, Mrs Downing explained that the building was laid out in a U shape with the tearoom and the ballroom – which was where they were heading – right at the end. As they entered the ballroom Alice let out another gasp of delight. This room was even more decadent, with five cut-glass chandeliers, the same high vaulted ceilings and even a balcony for guests to look over and admire the dancing.

  ‘You can almost picture the balls Jane Austen wrote about,’ Mrs Downing whispered dreamily.

  ‘Quite,’ Alice replied as she took in the band playing in the corner and the crowded dance floor full of uniformed RAF officers and their American counterparts all dancing the night away.

  ‘We’re just through here.’ Mrs Downing guided Alice towards a small round table where two other girls were already sitting. ‘I don’t think you’ve met Millie and Doreen, have you?’

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ Alice smiled as she shook hands with each of the girls, sat down next to Mrs Downing and quickly took in the girls’ appearance. They were both around the same age as her and looked incredibly glamorous. Millie’s long dark hair had been expertly styled into a victory roll that flattered her angular cheekbones and dark eyes, while Doreen’s auburn locks had been cut into a very elegant bob with a fringe that framed her green eyes.

  ‘And you,’ Millie trilled. ‘We thought you might like these,’ she said, pushing two glasses of port and lemon across the table. ‘One of those GIs got them in for us earlier.’

  Mrs Downing raised her own glass and grinned. ‘I hope you girls haven’t been chasing Americans again.’

  ‘Just Millie.’ Doreen laughed, giving her friend a playful nudge. ‘You know very well I’m spoken for, Ivy.’

  ‘Doreen’s fella’s an engineer,’ Mrs Downing explained. ‘Works over near Neath, isn’t that right?’

  Doreen blushed at the mention of her sweetheart. ‘We’ve been courting over three years now. We met when I went up to Cardiff for the day and he spilled te
a on me.’

  ‘More likely you did it yourself,’ Millie cackled. ‘He’s a looker, your Fred.’

  ‘Are you spoken for, Alice?’ Doreen asked, ignoring her friend’s giggles.

  Alice nodded. ‘Yes, my husband’s in the RAF. He’s been missing almost eight months now though.’

  Doreen’s hands flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  Waving her concern away, Alice smiled at the redhead. ‘You weren’t to know. I think about him every day and hope and pray that today’s the day he’ll be found. It’s what gets me through the pain.’

  ‘It’s all you can do sometimes,’ Mrs Downing offered knowledgeably. ‘Both my sons are overseas fighting somewhere and I light a candle for them every Sunday, praying they’ll be returned to me when this blasted war is over.’

  ‘But until then, we have to focus on living our own lives,’ Millie said gently. ‘We don’t know when this war will be over.’

  ‘Or if,’ Doreen muttered darkly.

  ‘And what better place to live our lives while we can than here?’ Millie added, ignoring her friend’s gloom.

  Alice nodded in agreement. ‘My friends at home all say the same. Though we don’t go out anywhere as grand as this.’

  Doreen’s eyebrows waggled. ‘You’re not serious? We all thought you Liberty girls would be living the high life up the West End.’

  ‘Yes, when the Marks and Spencer’s head office were all evacuated here for a bit, they used to moan something rotten there was nowhere to go out like London,’ Millie chimed in.

  A giggle escaped from Alice’s lips. ‘Well, I don’t know where the girls from Marks’s were going, but I can tell you us Liberty girls like a port and lemon just like you Jolly’s girls. We just stick to the pub or the cinema – very rarely do we go to a dance like this, unless it’s one of Liberty’s, of course. But since war broke out events at Liberty’s are few and far between.’