by Deborah Carr
Miss Tweed knew she wasn’t supposed to give the children any treats, so that Florence knew what they had eaten while they were at Pelham Street. She didn’t want their meals ruined by sweeties, but she was unable to hide her amusement that John had shared something she suspected Miss Tweed was hoping to keep between the two of them.
‘I, er, have a small tin of digestives in my desk drawer,’ she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. ‘I gave John half of one the other day. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done.’
Florence didn’t want to upset her secretary and knew that Miss Tweed’s unexpected awareness that John didn’t know to keep these exchanges to himself would probably be enough to stop her doing it again.
‘It’s fine, really,’ Florence reassured her and led the way through the store. ‘The occasional half a biscuit is fine. I only worry if it becomes a daily occurrence.’
Dorothy wriggled, wanting to be free of her mother’s arms, so Florence put her down onto the shop floor so she could walk.
‘No running off now, Dorothy,’ Florence said firmly. ‘You must come with us upstairs.’
Dorothy took Miss Tweed’s free hand and Florence took the pram from her.
Jesse thanked the doorman, Alfred, an elderly man who had begged Jesse for work after losing his previous job. Jesse had given him a chance and the man seemed to idolise him.
Florence followed Jesse through the art nouveau building, taking in the perfection around her as staff made their way to their stations, ready to greet their customers. Each employee looked immaculate. She was delighted to think how each one of them had worked hard to settle into their roles at the store. Their dedication to their work was evident every day. Pride coursed through Florence. She couldn’t help feeling grateful to these women for their repayment of her trust that they would work hard for her, and loved being the one Jesse had assigned to take on the female staff and oversee their welfare.
Jesse stopped to chat to a member of staff on their way through the store. Florence greeted the women in the dispensary, thinking how professional they looked in their immaculate uniforms and also, she was relieved to note, how happy.
Moving on to the women preparing to begin another day on the perfumery counters, Florence’s thoughts drifted to her old friend Lily Buttons. They exchanged letters occasionally and she always made sure to take her out for tea whenever she travelled home to Jersey, but she couldn’t help thinking that at some point Lily would want more than to stay on the island. She hoped that Lily’s father’s regular terms in prison wouldn’t hold her back. Florence still believed that Lily could make something of herself in this world given half a chance.
While Jesse stopped to speak to one of the storemen, Florence walked over to the stationery department. It was her favourite area in the store and, although it was so much bigger than the floor space in her father’s store in Queen Street back in Jersey, it always reminded her of being a young girl working with her sister and Lily before her marriage. She had possessed so many dreams back then, Florence recalled. One of them had been to run her own business one day. This might be Jesse’s business, but she truly felt a part of it. Here she was in this impressive new shop showcasing products, many of which she had been the one to source, and it was a dream come true.
Florence spotted one of the displays wasn’t quite as well put together as she would like. Unable to help herself, she parked the perambulator against the nearest wall out of anyone’s way.
‘Is anything amiss?’ Jesse asked, concerned.
‘Not at all, but you know what a perfectionist I am. I’ve just seen something that needs my attention. You carry on to your office with Miss Tweed and the two older children, and I’ll follow shortly.’
Satisfied that Margery was still sleeping and could be left for the moment, she went to rearrange diaries that had recently been received from the supplier.
‘Mrs Boot, I’m so sorry,’ the supervisor said, seeing her and hurrying over to join her. ‘Is something the matter?’
Florence looked at the pale, pinched face of the woman, who was wringing her hands.
‘No, I was just passing and thought this display could be better placed, nothing more,’ she said trying to reassure the woman that she was not in any trouble. Florence took hold of the sides of the wooden frame showcasing the display and moved it several inches to the right. ‘Now, if you could help me move these crystal ink pots and the paperweights slightly further apart,’ she suggested thoughtfully, ‘I believe that will improve the setting. We want to show everything off to its best advantage under these electric lights, don’t you think?’
‘We do.’ The supervisor smiled, relaxing as she helped.
‘There, that’s a little better. I’ll stand back a bit and see if I’m right.’
Florence walked back to where she had left Margery and studied the display. She smiled, satisfied. ‘Yes, we were right,’ she said wanting to include the supervisor in her achievement. ‘That looks perfect now.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Boot,’ the woman said looking, Florence noticed, much more confident as she glanced at one of the other assistants approaching the department.
Did she make the women nervous? Florence wondered. She hoped not. She liked to think of herself as having earned their respect as a fair and thoughtful employer. She never wanted any of her girls to be scared of her; it would be devastating.
Florence took hold of the perambulator handle just as Jesse returned, presumably to see what had made her stay back in the stationery department. She gave him a knowing look. ‘We both know you can’t bear not to be in control and wanted to see what I was doing,’ she teased.
Jesse opened his mouth to argue. ‘You’re quite wrong,’ he said, looking indignant at her accusation. ‘I thought I’d accompany you to the lift. The perambulator can be a trifle awkward to manoeuvre.’ He took the handle from her and pushed it as they walked to the lift.
Florence hid her amusement, but secretly enjoyed it when Jesse was unable to hide his inquisitiveness around her.
Once in her office, Florence went to lift Margery from the pram. ‘Let me,’ Jesse insisted, kissing the tip of his baby daughter’s button nose.
Florence watched him, happy to give him as much time as he needed around the children. There were too many times when Jesse’s work kept him in his office, either here at the store or at home. And when he wasn’t working, he spent hours out on his horse accompanying one of his managers to visit other stores and their factories on his rounds.
Jesse cuddled baby Margery and ruffled the heads of his two older children as they played happily in the small playpen at the back of her office. It was an idyllic scene until John reached out and snatched Dorothy’s favourite teddy, making her wail in indignant fury.
‘Naughty boy,’ Florence said softly, as she took the toy from his hands and passed it back to Dorothy. ‘You mustn’t tease your little sister.’
‘Do you need me to help with anything, Mrs Boot?’ Miss Tweed asked quietly.
‘No, thank you. I’m sure you have more than enough to be dealing with. If you come back to take some dictation at eleven o’clock that should tie in nicely with their morning sleep.’
Jesse cleared his throat. He beamed at his three children and sighed contentedly. ‘Well, I suppose I’ll go to my office and press on.’ He turned to Florence and gave her a kiss.
‘You have a busy day today?’ Florence asked, pulling the hatpin away from her hat and taking it off.
‘No more than usual.’
John tried to take Dorothy’s teddy again, causing her to scream. Margery began to whimper, and then cry. Florence placed her hat on her desk and shook her head. ‘You go and I’ll try to placate these three.’ She stared at him, willing him to leave the room before he began fretting again about her coping with the children while at work. ‘Go on, I’ll have these three settled all the quicker if there’s no one else in here but us.’
He hesitated, before doing as she
asked.
‘You’ll bring them in to my office for some lunch later?’
Florence placed her hand on his cheek. ‘Yes, I’ll order food to be brought in from one of the restaurants we like.’
He looked over at her neat desk, the only items on it being a silver-framed family photo of her and Jesse with their two older children, a blotter, pen stand, and her leather-bound diary..
‘What do you have scheduled for today?’ he asked.
She walked to her chair and sat. Then she opened her diary and ran her finger down the page. Before she could reply, Miss Tweed knocked gently twice and entered. She produced Florence’s daily list of tasks and placed it on her leather-topped desk. ‘You asked me to remind you to be sure that Mr Baxter has the carriage here to take you to the factory this afternoon.’
Florence could not think for a moment what the meeting was about.
Miss Tweed seemed to read her confused expression and added, ‘It’s for the dispute you were having a meeting about.’
‘Dispute?’ Jesse scowled. He looked from Miss Tweed to Florence. Florence gave him a reassuring smile.
‘Thank you, Miss Tweed,’ Florence said. ‘Please check that the carriage will be waiting for me with enough time for me to reach the factory and have ten minutes to speak to the manageress.’
‘Yes, Mrs Boot.’ Miss Tweed looked from Florence to Jesse and chewed her lower lip nervously.
Florence appreciated all her secretary did for her but wished that she had not timed her reminder of the appointment quite so badly. ‘I’ll call for you in a little while when I’m settled in.’
Her secretary looked relieved to be given leave to go from the room.
Florence watched Miss Tweed rush off to do as she had asked. She could not help thinking that as much as she found some of the disputes between management and the female employees upsetting, it gave her a lot of satisfaction when she was able to resolve matters to everyone’s satisfaction.
She realised she hadn’t answered Jesse’s question. ‘Yes, it seems that this time it’s over a man and there’s been an altercation between the two women.’ She didn’t miss Jesse’s expression darkening but decided not to comment on his reaction. Florence was aware that after her agreeing to return home earlier every day, he wasn’t going to be impressed that she intended going to the factory this afternoon. ‘It probably sounds more dramatic than it is.’
He scowled and walked over to the playpen and ran his right palm lightly over Dorothy’s head, smoothing down her hair.
‘Do you think, on this occasion at least, that I might be the better person to see to this matter?’ Jesse frowned, unable – or possibly, Florence mused, unwilling – to hide his concern.
Florence closed her eyes for a few seconds in an attempt to stop her temper rising. She did not need to be made to feel guilty about choosing to work as much as she did. She already had that to battle with on a daily basis. When would he stop fretting about her being unable to work hours as long as his? Or perhaps he was concerned that she would handle this situation badly again, like she had with Nellie Blythe? She was determined to prove that she had learnt from that situation, that she could manage the girls under her employ.
‘How would it look to our employees if I did as you suggest? For all I know, one or both of these women could be mothers themselves. They would not be allowed to leave work early to rest. Neither of them is lucky enough to be in the privileged position that I am in.’
‘That is no fault of yours, Florence,’ he said keeping his voice low.
‘I know it’s not, but it makes me feel that I need to work harder as their employer to prove that I support them.’ She could see Jesse’s opinion wasn’t affected by what she said. ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but I have no intention of handing over my responsibilities. The power my position in life bestows on me enables me to help these women and it’s an opportunity I’m determined to use to everyone’s advantage.’
She didn’t add that it was what she hoped someone would do for her, if the circumstances were reversed. That, she decided, was what she would do, otherwise what was the point of her continuing to work at all?
He shook his head. ‘You are a stubborn woman.’ She went to argue, despite her awareness that he was right, but he held up his hand to stop her as she took a deep breath. ‘However, your strength of character and determination to help others are part of your personality and part of why I love you so much.’ He smiled. ‘Are you certain you’d rather deal with this?’
Florence loved her husband and trusted his judgement but was not about to let him take on jobs that she felt were her responsibility. She was relieved he didn’t argue any further. She didn’t want to be late to her meeting. How would that look to the women waiting to see her?
‘I think we both know the answer to that question.’ She raised an eyebrow and smiled. ‘Now, I think you need to go to your office and let me look at what else is in my diary today.’
He hugged her. ‘I’ll leave you to carry on.’
Jesse tapped the bottom of his cane a couple of times on the floor as he stared at it thoughtfully. ‘I’m aware it must be frustrating for you when I act this way.’ He didn’t meet her eyes. ‘But I’m only trying to protect you.’
‘My love, I know you only have my best interests at heart. Your reminder that I take good care of myself is welcomed, not resented.’ It occurred to her to use the moment to her advantage. ‘However, it works both ways and I expect you to do the same.’
Jesse’s face softened and he laughed. ‘Fair enough. I know when I’ve been dismissed.’
Florence stood and stepped around her desk to kiss him. ‘You have. Now, let’s have no more of this talk. You’d better go and press on with your work and I’ll do the same.’
Chapter 10
Florence arrived home tired but happy. It had been a good day. The sun had shone and takings were up. She had also managed to catch up with a pile of outstanding letters, and Jesse had taken a rare afternoon off to spend some time at home with the children.
The smell of beeswax polish greeted her as she entered the hallway, and the pinks, purples, and white in the arrangement she had created from flowers cut from her garden the previous day brightened the already light room.
‘Good evening, madam,’ Beth said, greeting her. ‘May I take your coat and hat for you?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Florence unpinned her hat, as she stifled a yawn, then unbuttoned her coat and, slipping it off, handed it to Beth. ‘Is my husband upstairs with the children?’
‘He’s upstairs, madam.’ She took the coat from Florence’s hand and stepped back when Florence hurried past her up the stairs. She suspected he might be changing for dinner, so headed immediately to his dressing room.
Hearing voices, Florence watched from the hallway as Harriet carried an empty tray from their bedroom. Her dark eyes widened to find Florence standing there. Florence placed a finger to her lips and shook her head, mouthing for Harriet to leave the door ajar. Nodding, she did as instructed and went downstairs.
Florence stepped forward, willing her skirt not to rustle and alert Jesse to her presence. Peering in through the gap her heart swelled as she watched the man she loved so deeply humming to himself as he took several pills, swallowing each with water from a glass and carafe that Harriet had just left behind. He then finished brushing his hair at the wall mirror.
Florence knew she shouldn’t be watching him, but it was such an unexpected opportunity to gaze at Jesse without him being aware of her doing so that she couldn’t help herself.
She heard Harriet telling off their scullery maid, Beth, for some mischief that she had done and smiled to herself. Hearing the familiar voices of her home soothed her soul after the long afternoon she had spent at the factory while the two women, Iris and Agnes, had found a way to compromise over their differences. Florence had been determined not to leave until their issue had been resolved.
The last thing she had intended to do
was leave the factory having to fire one or both of the women involved. To do so would mean that she had their lack of an income on her conscience. Florence couldn’t bear to think of children going hungry and suffering because their mothers found themselves without an income due to a decision she had made. There was always a solution to be found, Florence believed, although she was aware that some were more difficult to find than others. This one had taken a little time, but thankfully, for now at least, the problem had been resolved. She hoped that both women found a way to move on from the man they had become involved with.
John’s voice, deep for such a little boy, echoed from the nursery on the floor above as he bossed Dorothy about. Florence rested her left hand on her heart when she heard Dorothy standing up to him and then Violet insisting they both got into their beds.
‘Your mother will be here to tuck you both in very soon,’ Florence heard her saying. ‘What will she think if you’re both still up when she comes to kiss you goodnight?’
‘She won’t mind,’ Florence heard John say. She stifled a giggle.
Her children were so strong-minded, but, as Jesse liked to tell her when she commented on their characters to him, ‘What can you expect when you think who their parents are?’ He was right, too. She and Jesse were both pig-headed at times, each always certain that their idea was the best. Why would her children ever be any different?
Hers was a happy household and she was grateful for it. Florence couldn’t imagine a life better than hers right now.
She heard movement in Jesse’s room and watched as he reached down to pick up one of the gold cufflinks she had bought him for his most recent birthday. He had been delighted with the embossed linking of their two first initials and had delighted her by wearing them every day since. Jesse always preferred the presents she chose for him that were practical as well as beautiful.
He fastened the first cufflink, singing quietly to himself. She could see joy emanating from his reflection in the mirror. She had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop herself from making a sound. He went to pick up the second cufflink, stopping abruptly, his outstretched arm frozen. She watched his face contort into a grimace as he grabbed the top of the dressing table, his singing replaced by quiet groans.
