Ruby shook her head and reached for a cloth to wipe down the tables. ‘No thank you, Betty. I’m more than happy to help out at times like this but I’ve enough on my hands with the family and the WVS. You’ll find a slice of my special seed cake with your tea.’ She winked.
‘What makes it so special?’ Betty asked, already salivating at the thought of Ruby’s home-made cake.
‘It’s special because of the ingredients,’ Ruby said, with a conspiratorial tone to her voice.
‘Special ingredients?’
‘They’re special because not everyone knows how to get hold of them,’ Ruby explained, with a knowing smile.
Betty tried not to laugh. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Ruby,’ she said sternly. ‘But please don’t forget that if you ever change your mind about a job here you know I’ll take you back. I value all our Woolworths girls, past and present,’ she told the grey-haired woman. Ruby Caselton was the only person she allowed to call her by her Christian name in front of the staff during work hours. Sarah’s grandmother was respected by all in the community of Erith and could be relied upon when times weren’t so good.
‘Now, get yourself off and do some work,’ Ruby said. ‘Maureen and me have a lot to do if this party is to go ahead later today. Oh, and if that inspector pokes his nose in here he’ll get short change from me, and you can tell him I said as much.’
Betty returned to her office to find Sarah already there, pinning a new staff rota to the wall. ‘Is there anything else you want me to help with or should I get back down to the shop floor and give everything a last once-over?’ she asked Betty.
‘Apart from checking the bottom of customers’ shoes for mud in case they make a mess before the inspector arrives, I’m not sure we can do much else. I’ve been informed there’s a delivery of Christmas goods coming in later this afternoon. If you could tell the staff on the Christmas counters that I’d like the items on display as soon as possible, please? My goodness, I’m surprised how one man with a clipboard can have me so flustered.’
‘You know, Ruby, I could swear there were six of these meat and vegetable pies,’ Maureen said, peering into a box she’d just carried in from the storeroom.
‘You’re right, I made six and they all came with me from home. Vera helped carry them here. Are you sure you put them all into the one box?’ Ruby asked, counting the large enamel pie dishes just as Maureen had done.
‘Hmm, I wonder if someone moved them? Let’s check the other food we’ve put by for the party. We’ll need to get these into the oven before too long or they’ll not be hot enough for the old boys’ meal.’
Maureen checked the clock on the wall of the canteen as they headed to the Woolworths storeroom. ‘We’ve got two hours to go. Now the workers have finished their tea breaks we can start to lay out the food tables . . . Well, I’ll be blown!’ She stopped what she was saying as Ruby pointed to the shelves that had been allocated for the party stores. ‘Someone’s had a good rummage through here, there’s no mistake.’
‘Pete, Harry, what’s been going on here?’ Ruby called out to the warehouse men, who were busy leaning on their brooms nearby. ‘Have you been helping yourself to the pies I made for the old folk?’
‘Not us, missus,’ Harry replied, while his mate Pete just shrugged his shoulders. ‘But if there’s a slice going begging we wouldn’t mind a bit. Some thieving so-and-so has pinched Pete’s sandwich along with a bottle of beer.’
‘Get yourselves along to the canteen, lads. I’m sure there’ll be something you can eat to tide you both over. Could it be rats?’ Maureen said to Ruby with a shudder.
‘No rats here, missus,’ Harry called over his shoulder. ‘It’d be more than my job’s worth to allow vermin in here. The boss lady would ’ave my guts for garters.’
‘There’s something very strange going on in here,’ Ruby said, glancing around the large storeroom. ‘But whatever it is will have to wait for now. We have guests to feed and we’re one pie short. Let’s go peel some spuds and make some mash.’
‘My goodness, I didn’t expect the old soldiers to turn up so early,’ Betty said, after she’d shaken the hands of all her male guests and called staff members to help them to the staffroom, collecting coats and hats along the way. ‘I distinctly recall telling the almoner of the home to get them here for six o’clock. Why, it’s only just past five and the shop is still open. Whatever shall we do with them for an hour until the old Woolies staff arrive? We can’t start the meal yet.’
‘Tea, biscuits and a bit of a sing-song?’ Maisie suggested. ‘I don’t think they’ll be bothered about a few broken biscuits. Apart from that woman over there, I didn’t know we invited friends of the old soldiers?’
Betty shrugged her shoulders. She was too worried about entertaining her guests for an extra hour to think much about a female ‘old boy’. Biscuits were more important. ‘Perhaps she served as a nurse or something. I didn’t think to ask about the gender of our guests. I’m still not sure about serving broken biscuits. They do look very nice on a china plate, though.’ Betty sighed. She set great store by food presented on her best crockery and had supplied her own tea plates for the occasion. ‘But needs must. Freda, get yourself downstairs and pick a pound of our best broken biscuits – that’s if one broken biscuit can be better than the next,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Sarah, get the shop put to bed for the night and lock up. If the inspector arrives he will just have to bang on the door. I thought he’d have been here by now,’ she said distractedly, as she clapped her hands to catch the attention of the guests and welcome them to Woolworths.
‘I’m surprised that Betty rates broken biscuits over the shop inspector. I thought she’d never stop worrying about the chap. Not that she ’as a thing to worry about,’ Maisie whispered to Sarah, as she accompanied her down the private staircase and out into the still busy shop.
Sarah laughed. She’d thought the same thing. ‘Would you stand by the front doors and wish everyone a good night, please, Maisie?’ she asked her chum. ‘Some shoppers may get the hint we are about to close for the day and pay for their purchases.’
‘’Course I will,’ Maisie said. ‘D’yer want me to sing a verse or two of “Goodnight, Sweetheart”?’ she grinned, before doubling over and hugging her stomach. ‘Ouch, that bloody hurt.’
‘Goodness, Maisie, are you all right? Here, come and sit down for a minute. You’ve gone a ghastly shade of white.’
‘I do feel a bit strange. It’ll pass. It did this morning before I left for work. I’ll be fine. You’ve got enough to do without worrying about me.’
‘Well, get yourself back upstairs and rest for a while. Someone else can help me,’ Sarah said, with a concerned look on her face. It wasn’t like Maisie to be ill and this early in her pregnancy she shouldn’t be experiencing pains. ‘Please God, make everything fine for Maisie. She’s dreamt of being a mum for so long,’ she whispered to herself, before heading over to a nearby counter to help a shop assistant cover her goods with a dust sheet and lock the cash register. With most of the cash having been collected half an hour before, only a small float was left in the tills overnight.
‘Excuse me, young lady,’ said a man about the same age as her. ‘I’m here to see a Miss Billington,’ he continued, checking a notebook he held in his hand.
Oh my goodness, it must be the inspector, Sarah thought to herself. She couldn’t take him upstairs at the moment. Whatever would he think of a staffroom full of old men being fed Woolworths’ finest broken biscuits? It was a rarity in wartime to have biscuits on sale at all, let alone give them away. She stopped and thought for a couple of seconds. ‘Rather than bother Miss Billington for the moment, would you like to accompany me as we close the store for the night? It would give you an idea of what we do here at Erith Woolworths?’
The man thought for a moment, then nodded his head. ‘Yes, why not indeed? Lead the way, Miss . . .’
‘Mrs Gilbert, Mrs Alan Gilbert,’ Sarah corrected h
im. She felt that circumstances dictated a formal introduction.
‘Alan Gilbert’s wife?’
Crikey, he is good at his job if he can remember past Woolworths staff, Sarah thought. ‘Yes, Alan was a trainee manager here before the war. That’s how we met. He hopes to return and one day manage his own branch of Woolworths.’ She smiled politely. It wouldn’t hurt to put in a good word for her husband, even if there was no end in sight to this war. She wished her nan’s prophecy had come true – that the war would be over by Christmas 1939. With them fast approaching the third Christmas in wartime, she did wonder if Alan had settled too comfortably into the RAF and would wish to return to working at Woolies.
‘I remember Alan very well; please give him my regards when you next see him,’ the man said. ‘I’m Nigel Guttridge – it would help to know my name.’ He smiled congenially, holding out his hand to shake Sarah’s.
Sarah took his hand and nodded but decided not to be fooled by his friendly demeanour. In her book, inspectors were to be feared as they could make life hell for the shop workers if they discovered a store was not pulling its weight. What if they were to move Betty away from Erith, or even worse, give her the sack . . . It would be tricky dealing with this man. ‘I’ll give him your message, thank you. He is not on active duty due to an injury overseas . . . but he will soon be back to full health,’ she added quickly, in case this would make a mark on Alan’s potential as a future manager at Woolies.
Nigel Guttridge nodded and tapped his left leg with the notebook he’d been busy scribbling in. ‘I wasn’t so lucky. I lost this during the Battle of Britain and now I’m back in civvy street.’
Sarah had wondered about the man’s limp. Her natural caring attitude urged her to sympathize and ask how he was coping, but perhaps this man was lulling her into a false sense of security. ‘I’m very sorry,’ she said politely. ‘Now, would you like to see the staff at work?’ She pointed to where young Mary and two colleagues were moving glassware and china underneath the heavy mahogany counter and placing wooden beer crates over other stock. ‘Miss Billington managed to obtain these crates from a local public house and we use them to cover goods we can’t put in a safe place.’
He frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Why, to protect the stock during raids – Miss Billington does all she can to keep the store ticking over at all times. We’ve not lost one cup and saucer due to enemy action,’ she said proudly.
‘Your Miss Billington is quite the company woman, isn’t she?’ he commented with a small smirk.
‘Aren’t we all, Mr Guttridge, aren’t we all,’ she replied primly, not quite making out what this man was up to. They’d have to keep an eye on him.
Chapter 4
‘All the nice girls love a sailor . . .’ Maisie sung out loud, leading to a rousing cheer from the party guests before they all joined in. Any sign of her earlier ill health had disappeared as the party got into full swing.
‘I’m so relieved everything is bobbing along nicely,’ Betty said, as she accepted a small glass of sherry from Maureen. She took a sip and licked her lips appreciatively. ‘This is rather nice. Wherever did it come from?’
‘Our old boys didn’t come empty-handed and, being true gents, they thought of us ladies as well. Cheers,’ Maureen said, as she clinked her glass with Betty’s.
‘Do we not require some kind of license to have alcohol on the premises?’ Betty worried, as she twisted the glass in her hand. ‘Are these from our stock?’
‘No license required; besides, Sergeant Jackson said he’ll pop by at the end of his shift to give us a hand so we’ll have police permission, so to speak.’ She laughed at her own joke as she finished off her drink and admired the empty glass. ‘They’ll wash up all right and no one will be any the wiser,’ she whispered, as they both glanced towards the shop inspector, who was chatting with some of the older men and still scribbling in his notebook. ‘Goodness knows what he’s inspecting now. Sarah told me he even mentioned my Alan. I hope nothing gets written in that notebook of his that will stop Alan getting his own store one day.’
Betty patted Maureen’s arm. ‘Never fear about that, Maureen. I’ll put in a good word when the time comes for him to think about the future. That’s if he still sees a future with Woolworths. This war has given our menfolk a taste of the world away from their hometowns. Erith may no longer be enough for a young man with dreams.’
Maureen’s face turned pale. ‘Why, I’d never given that a thought. I’ll not hold my boy back, especially now he has a wife and daughter, but I’d be that sad to see him move away from Erith.’
‘He may have to if he was given his own Woolworths branch to run,’ Betty said kindly. ‘But let’s not worry about that now. There’s time enough to think about the future another time. Now, we have a party to enjoy. When will you start the cabaret? I have my music prepared,’ she said, pointing to where the sheets of music were laid out along the top of the piano.
‘Now’s as good a time as any. I’ll just pop into the kitchen and give Ruby and Vera a hand with the washing up, then we can all relax and have some fun. That’s if Hitler’ll give us a night off. I’ve been in and out of my cellar so often these past nights I don’t know if I’m coming or going,’ Maureen joked, before taking her leave of Betty and joining her friends in the kitchen.
‘What would I do without you all,’ Betty murmured to herself, as she went over to thank one of the old boys for his thoughtfulness in bringing the sherry, and instead had her glass refilled. She looked sideways to where the inspector from head office was accepting what looked like rum from another elderly gent. ‘Oh, what the heck,’ she muttered, and knocked back the drink. ‘Let’s live life to the full. Who knows what tomorrow may bring?’
‘Yes, Miss Billington,’ young Mary said, as she passed by with a tray of dirty plates, not understanding what her boss was talking about.
Ruby felt hot inside the padded red suit. ‘I didn’t realize when I signed up for party duty that it involved dressing as a man,’ she whispered to Sarah, as she wiped her hot face with a handkerchief. ‘Who’d have thought I was the only one able to fit the Father Christmas outfit?’
‘We did have to turn up the hems of the trousers and stuff you out with a pillow, so don’t go feeling too upset, Nan,’ Sarah said, trying not to grin too much. Ruby made a good Father Christmas. It was such a shame that her family were not able to witness the transformation. ‘Try speaking in a deep voice, as that’s what could give you away,’ she suggested.
Ruby strode up and down the long corridor outside the staffroom, doing her best to roll from side to side and holding her tummy as she growled ho ho ho. ‘I could get used to wearing these trousers,’ she said, hitching them up and checking the pillow was still in place. ‘I can see why you younger women like wearing those siren suits so much. I may just get Maisie to run me up some. They’d be ideal to keep out the drafts in the winter.’
Sarah smiled at the thought of her nan in a siren suit. But if it kept her cosy down in the Anderson shelter, then why not? ‘I think that’s a grand idea, Nan, but not in bright red, eh?’
‘That’s a step too far,’ Ruby agreed. ‘I’ll have a dig through your granddad Eddie’s old clothes and see if there’s anything Maisie can use. I s’pose it’s time I took the rest of his things down the WVS. They’ll do someone a turn.’
‘Oh, Nan, I didn’t know you’d hung onto Granddad’s clothes. If you don’t want to use them yet I think Alan will have some old trousers we could cut up and turn into something for you.’
Ruby shrugged her shoulders. ‘The time never felt right to be rid of what was his. Now it feels right and Eddie wouldn’t have wanted me to hang onto his old clothes. Not when they’d be of use to someone else. They don’t hold memories for me, as such. No, my memories are here and here,’ she said sadly, touching her head and patting her heart that beat solidly beneath the Father Christmas padding. ‘There’s a new year just around the corner so let’s start afresh, s
hall we?’
Sarah hugged Ruby and tried her best not to cry. Now wasn’t the time or the place for tears. Besides, talking of Maisie’s sewing skills had given her an idea.
‘Now,’ Ruby said, as she gave herself a shake, picked up her gas mask holder and slung it over her shoulder, ‘let’s get this show on the road, shall we?’
‘I’m ready when you are, Nan. The gifts are by your special seat. You won’t need your gas mask, though . . .’
Ruby grinned and patted the box, which made an interesting rattling sound. ‘Where else do you think Father Christmas keeps the carrots for his reindeer?’
‘Gawd, I’m knackered!’ Maisie said, as she plonked herself down next to Sarah. ‘I love giving an encore, as you know, but singing “Who Were You With Last Night?” three times on the trot is enough for anyone. Give us a drop of that gin, will yer?’
Sarah gave her chum a worried glance. ‘You need to rest, Maisie. You look done in. I’ve never seen you so pale.’
‘Why should I?’ Maisie asked petulantly, as she reached for the half-bottle of gin and tipped the remainder of the alcohol into a glass, shaking the bottle soundly until the very last drop was out. ‘It’s a party – we are supposed to be ’avin’ fun, ain’t we?’
‘In your condition you should be careful. I’m not sure you should be drinking either,’ Sarah said quietly, trying not to alert her colleagues to her concern for Maisie and the baby she was carrying.
‘A drop of muvvers’ ruin wont ’urt me,’ Maisie said, as she knocked back the contents of the glass in one go.
‘It may make you clumsy, Maisie. What if you were to have a fall and it hurt the baby?’
‘Ssh.’ Maisie giggled, placing a finger to her lips. ‘It’s our little secret. No one else knows about the you-know-what . . .’
‘All the same . . .’
‘Don’t be a party pooper. Come on . . . get up and let’s have annuver song.’ She pulled at Sarah’s arm and called out to Betty, who was playing the piano. ‘Maestro, if you please, we wanna sing “It’s a Long Way ter Tipperary”.’
Carols at Woolworths Page 3
