The Liberty Girls

by Fiona Ford

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  The Saturday after the funeral was the day of the fashion parade. Alice opened the blackout blinds, feeling full of hope for the day ahead.

  Admitting the truth about Luke and her feelings for Jack to her friends had helped clear her head. She felt as if she could look forward to a future, albeit an uncertain one; at least she would no longer be looking back.

  From now on her focus was her son, it really was as simple as that. With Luke no longer around, and likely never coming back, she was free to think about herself and Arthur. And the first thing she needed to consider was moving out. Alice didn’t want to be a burden when Violet arrived and deep down she thought it might be time to find her and Arthur a family home of their own, even if it was only a room together in someone else’s dwelling. She ought to stand on her own two feet; after all, it was the two of them against the world now.

  But first there was something else she had to do. Since Joy’s death she had felt as if she and her father had unfinished business. She had sent him a telegram letting him know that Joy had died, and his reply had infuriated her. Yet her sister’s sudden passing had given Alice time to reflect. Joy had been the last connection to her father, a man she had never wanted anything to do with when he was living under the same roof, never mind when he was thousands of miles across an ocean. Without Joy in her life any longer, Alice had no reason to have anything to do with Jimmy Harris, but she wanted to say goodbye in the way she had said goodbye to Joy.

  Pulling out her writing pad from her bedside cabinet, Alice began to scribble.

  15th August 1942

  Dear Jimmy,

  Thanks for your letter the other day. I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that Joy’s funeral went off all right. The church was standing room only as everyone came out to pay their respects. You’re probably thinking that so many people turned up because they wanted to say goodbye to the daughter of one of the great criminal masterminds. In fact nobody from your old gang days turned up – not even your precious Shirley.

  This is one of the hardest letters I have ever had to write, and in fact I didn’t even know who to address it to. It doesn’t feel right calling you Jimmy, but it feels even less right calling you Dad. Since Joy’s death I’ve realised that there are so many things I want to get off my chest, but I also know that there’s no point. You’ll believe what you want and no amount of persuasion from me will have you seeing otherwise.

  I’ve spent years hating you, resenting your decision to leave us penniless while you set up shop in America, taking your money with you. It’s taken me a long time to see it, but actually I know now that your leaving was the best thing that ever happened to Joy and me. The truth is that I don’t feel anything towards you at all now. You’re just some old crook who stitched everyone up – your own family included – in pursuit of your own happiness. I spent too long blaming you for the way my life turned out. I’d always thought I needed rescuing, but I know now that I’m stronger than I thought, and more confident and capable too. I’ll stand on my own two feet, though I would never be the woman I am today without you. We may be related but I’ve learned over the years that family isn’t always made up of the people you’re connected to by blood. You aren’t my family, Jimmy, never have been and never will be – so please don’t contact me again.

  Alice

  Once she was finished, she sealed the envelope and felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t known she felt like that but now she’d got it all down she felt like a new woman.

  Quickly, she got Arthur washed and ready for the day ahead, and then she concentrated on herself. Pulling open her own cupboard she ran her eyes across the array of clothes that hung inside. There wasn’t much in there that hadn’t been patched to within an inch of its life, she thought wryly. Eventually selecting a plain cream dress with short sleeves and a high neck, her gaze came to rest on the wedding dress that hung next to it. Without thinking she allowed her fingers to roam across the soft silk, and she closed her eyes as she remembered the day she wore it. She had felt like a film star as she pulled on the exquisite gown, her mind full of thoughts of her future and all the promise it held. The silk had swished gently around her legs all day as she stayed close to her husband’s side, and Alice remembered how perfect she had thought life would be. But that was all in the past, she mused sadly, shoving the dress back.

  ‘Dot, are you coming to this meeting as well?’ Alice called as she walked into the kitchen and found her landlady making tea.

  Dot nodded as she poured the liquid into two cups. ‘Edwin says it’s important we’re all there.’

  ‘Yes, he said that to me. He even said I could bring Arthur into work if I was stuck for someone to look after him. That’s how important it is.’

  Dot lifted an eyebrow. ‘Is that right? Tell you to stick Arthur on the till ’n’ all, did he? Think the customers might have summat to say about that.’

  ‘Not our customers,’ Alice said loyally. ‘Very kind, they are.’

  ‘True,’ Dot admitted with a smile.

  ‘Anyway’ – Alice glanced at the clock on the mantel – ‘whatever it is, we’d better get a move on. If we’re late he’ll have our guts for garters.’

  ‘Including Arthur’s,’ Dot finished dramatically.

  An hour later and all three were on the shop floor of Liberty’s waiting for Mr Button to appear. As Arthur gurgled contentedly in Alice’s arms, earning herself looks of envy from some of the other shop girls, she couldn’t help feeling proud of her son. ‘Your very first day at Liberty’s,’ she whispered into his ear.

  Just then Mr Button appeared at the top of the staircase flanked by another man Alice hadn’t seen before. ‘Who’s that?’ she mouthed to Mary, who was standing next to her.

  Mary shook her head. ‘Attractive though, isn’t he?’ she murmured.

  ‘If you like the angry, brooding look,’ Flo hissed from behind. ‘Whoever he is, he looks like he got out of bed the wrong side this morning.’

  ‘And judging by that walking stick he’s carrying, I’m guessing there’s only one side of bed he can get out of,’ Dot said knowingly.

  As the two men muttered between themselves Alice took time to assess the stranger. He was shorter and younger than Mr Button; Alice guessed he was in his late thirties. With a stocky build and an intense brooding look that came from his deep-set brown eyes, the man, whoever he was, gave off an air of slight menace. Alice shivered; he reminded her of the film star John Wayne.

  Once Mr Button turned back to face the staff and smiled, the stranger caught her staring and locked eyes with her. She felt a pang of concern, until she realised that within that brooding look, there was something else too – a hint of gentleness perhaps.

  ‘Now then, everyone,’ Mr Button said loudly. ‘Many thanks to you all for coming in early this morning for this extra special meeting. As you know, since Mrs Matravers left us, we have been in a state of flux regarding the post of deputy store manager. First Mrs Canning took over the role, but she believes she is more suited to her previous role as fabric manager, and of course Mrs Claremont was going to step into the breach for a short time, but as you all know she is no longer with us, creating a vacancy. However, this morning I am delighted to let you know all that has changed. Ladies and gentleman, and of course young man’ – he smiled, gesturing towards Arthur – ‘I would like you to welcome our newest addition to the Liberty family, Henry Masters, who will be joining us as our new deputy store manager from today. He used to be sales manager at Bourne and Hollingsworth many years ago so he knows an awful lot about our store and what we’re trying to do here.’

  Mr Button finished and there was a polite round of applause from the staff as Henry Masters took a step forward to address the staff. ‘I am delighted to be here,’ he said in a rich Yorkshire accent. ‘Mr Button and I served together in the army many years ago and I am delighted to join him here in this wonderful store and serve with
him again. Over the coming weeks I shall be making a point of getting to know you all, spending time in your various departments and understanding how you all work. I appreciate that Liberty’s is a very different kind of shop. We have a rich history, a greater variety of stock and the most beautiful and unique store in the world. I am honoured to serve here and serve amongst you.’ He paused for a moment to clear his throat. ‘However, I have a few rules. I’m fair and I can promise you I will always listen, but treat me like a fool and you’ll be sorry. That said, I look forward to a good and decent working relationship with you all.’

  At that Henry Masters took a step back and allowed Mr Button to take centre stage once more. ‘Well, everyone,’ he beamed, ‘I want you all to do everything you can over the coming weeks to make Mr Masters feel welcome. And of course he will be joining us this evening for Liberty’s very first fashion parade!’

  At that there was a thunderous round of applause before everyone returned to their departments.

  ‘Did you know anything about this?’ Flo asked Dot as they made their way to fabrics.

  ‘Not a thing,’ Dot grumbled. ‘And he usually tells me everything.’

  ‘I thought he had dreamy eyes,’ Jean said in a faraway voice.

  ‘I thought he seemed quite brusque,’ Mary said as she took her place behind the cash register. ‘Did Mr Button really never mention anything to you about him when they were in the army?’

  Dot rolled her eyes. ‘What is all this? I don’t know everything.’

  Just then the girls heard the sound of heels clacking across the floor in a hurried fashion. Spinning around, Alice was surprised to see Hilda, one of the women she had got to know at the stitching evenings, walking determinedly towards them, her face a picture of panic.

  ‘Girls, I wanted to let you know I’m pulling out of the parade tonight,’ she babbled.

  ‘Why?’ Alice gasped in shock. Hilda had made a lovely frock from her old wedding dress and was using an old hat she had smartened up with new buttons to set it off.

  ‘My dress is ruined,’ she wailed. ‘Barry started cutting it up to play with. I’m going to kill the little sod. Acting right up he was,’ she added angrily.

  ‘Surely you can repair it?’ Dot said, aghast.

  Hilda shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. ‘It’s ruined. I can probably make a skirt out of it now, but it’ll need measuring, cutting out again and all sorts.’

  Alice’s heart went out to her. This parade had meant so much to Hilda; it was such a shame it had all come crashing down around her in this way.

  Then like a bolt from the blue, a thought struck Alice. She and Hilda were about the same size. Perhaps there was a way she could help the woman after all. ‘Do you have to be anywhere now?’ she asked quickly.

  Hilda shook her head. ‘Mum’s got the kids and I ain’t due at the WVS until later. Why?’

  ‘I think I might have something we can customise quickly for you. If you don’t mind popping over to my house a bit later on, I think we can make you a gown that’s fit for a queen.’

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  It was just past lunchtime when Alice left Liberty’s, her mind filled with ideas of the beautiful yet simple dress she would create for Hilda to wear later that day. She had a feeling, too, that Hilda would understand the importance of what she had in store, and couldn’t wait to share her ideas with her.

  With a few moments to spare before Alice met Dot to collect Arthur, she decided to stroll along Carnaby Street and take in some of the window displays. Between her son and her job, Alice rarely had any time to unwind, and she thought it would be nice to take a leisurely stroll along the lively street with nobody to please but herself.

  She had only walked a few steps, the blistering summer sunshine already searing through her summer dress, when she suddenly saw the café where she and Mrs Claremont had shared a cup of tea when she returned to work. Looking at the large sign that hung outside advertising tea whatever the weather, Alice felt a pang of sorrow at the thought of her former manager. Yes, she had behaved badly, but if there was one thing Joy’s death had taught her, it was how important it was to forgive and move on – after all, with the country in the grip of war, you never knew when you might get the chance again.

  Checking her watch she saw she had just enough time for a cup of tea, and decided to throw caution to the wind and treat herself. Pushing open the door, the jangling of the bell overhead alerting every café-goer inside to her presence, she found an empty table. She was just about to take a seat at the one nearest the window when the sight of the woman opposite made her stop dead in her tracks. There, drinking tea and eating a scone, was Mrs Claremont herself.

  For a moment Alice stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to do. Should she pretend she hadn’t seen her or should she go and say hello? It felt like hours that Alice agonised over the decision, but in the end it was made for her when Mrs Claremont lifted her head and caught her eye.

  Alice made her way over to Mrs Claremont and smiled gingerly. ‘A pleasure to see you here. Do you mind if I sit?’

  Mrs Claremont rewarded her with a grunt. ‘It’s a free country.’

  Taking that as a yes, Alice perched opposite and ordered herself a pot of tea from a passing waitress.

  ‘I didn’t expect to find you here,’ Alice remarked, desperately searching for something to say. ‘How have you been?’

  ‘How do you think I’ve been, Mrs Milwood? I’ve lost my job and without references I am struggling to find another.’

  Alice blinked in surprise. ‘Mr Button won’t give you a reference?’

  ‘No,’ Mrs Claremont said curtly. ‘He feels that my ten years of loyal service count for nothing.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Alice said, meaning it too. Surely a reference wasn’t too much to ask?

  Mrs Claremont sighed and pushed away the paper she had been leafing through, giving Alice a chance to take in her appearance. Her former manager looked gaunt. Her already lined face seemed hollow, while the blue jacket she wore was threadbare on the elbows and hung from her frame. She wasn’t eating, Alice realised, and with a start she understood that it might not be through worry over what had happened, but because she simply couldn’t afford to.

  ‘Why don’t you let me talk to Mr Button about a reference?’ Alice offered. ‘I’m sure I can persuade him.’

  Now it was Mrs Claremont’s turn to look surprised. ‘You would do that for me? Why?’

  Alice shrugged. ‘Even if you don’t work at Liberty’s any more you’re still one of us and we always look after our own. You may have made a mistake but I don’t think there’s anything to be gained from making you suffer more. You and me – well – we’re not so different, Mrs Claremont. We both raised our children single-handed, and this is one lone mother reaching out to another, offering a hand.’

  As Alice brought her speech to a close, Mrs Claremont let out a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, Mrs Milwood, you really are too kind. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you and for that I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Alice said softly.

  But Mrs Claremont shook her head. ‘No, it’s not all right. You see, I treated you all badly in fabrics, not because I thought you were terrible at your jobs, or because I thought I was so much better, but because I was jealous of you all.’

  ‘Jealous?’ Alice echoed in disbelief. ‘What on earth did you have to be jealous of?’

  ‘Your bond, your friendship, the way you treated one another like family. You see, I had nobody to help me in the way you do, Alice. I tried not to let it get me down but I’d find myself going home alone and thinking back to the days when I was looking after my children by myself. I envied the help you have and the more I thought about it the more I hated you for it. I kept wondering how my life would have been if I’d had my own Liberty family to help. Would I have struggled as much? And so I wanted to make you understand what it was like to suffer. It’s why I moved Miss Holmes-Fotherington to carpet
s and you to the stores.’

  ‘But it makes no sense. We’d done nothing to you,’ Alice exclaimed.

  Mrs Claremont nodded sadly. ‘I see now that it was wrong of me. When we shared a cup of tea in this café all those weeks ago I thought we did share a bond. I thought we were two peas in a pod, rearing our children alone without anyone to lean on. I wanted to help you, give you a leg-up, but then I discovered that alone was actually the very last thing you were.’

  Alice shook her head in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe you had nobody, Mrs Claremont. Surely there was one person you could turn to?’

  ‘When my husband was killed, I was like you,’ Mrs Claremont said, a faraway look in her eyes as she remembered the past. ‘I had lots of family and friends who wanted to help. What I didn’t have was any money. My Alan worked at Alexandra Park Racecourse. He was a weak man and got into debt with a notorious gang called the Newcastle Mob. When he died, his debt passed to me, and with two children to raise and no money coming in I had to do whatever it took to pay the debt off and put food on the table.’

  ‘I’m sure you did what any mother would have done,’ Alice breathed.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Mrs Claremont sighed, turning her gaze to meet Alice’s. ‘I did some things I’m ashamed of, Mrs Milwood, but I did what I had to.’

  ‘You must have been relieved once your debts were settled?’

  Mrs Claremont let out a small sob. ‘My freedom came with a price. The Mob let slip the lengths I had gone to in order to pay back what was owed, and once everyone found out what I had done they turned their backs in shame.’