The Foyles Bookshop Girls

by Elaine Roberts

  Alice nodded. ‘There’s nothing to forgive.’ She gave a watery smile. ‘I seem to cry at the drop of a hat since I've had Arthur.’

  ‘That's true.’ Lily laughed. ‘She cried the other day because she couldn't undo the wrapper around the soap.’

  Alice joined in the laughter that was slowly building in the room. ‘That's true, I did.’

  *

  Sarah and Alice removed their gloves and coats, placing them neatly on top of a wooden bench, at the end of the long buffet table on Victoria Station. Alice shivered as she donned her apron, before joining the line of women waiting for the trains to come in. They all busied themselves, preparing cups for tea and slicing cake. Arthur was sound asleep in his pram, tucked in the corner, out of harm's way. He didn't murmur as the trains came and went. Engine noise and the toots of the whistles filled the station, while the grey smoke billowed out of the chimneys. People waited expectantly for them to deliver their heroes home to them. Women murmured to each other as they waited.

  ‘Damned war,’ an old grey-haired lady whispered. ‘We were told it was going to be over by last Christmas, and yet here we are, over a year later.’

  The younger woman pulled at the sides of her headscarf. ‘Hah, they got that wrong, didn't they? It's been seventeen months now and we haven't heard anything about it being over.’

  The old lady lifted her walking stick and waved it around. ‘I come here every day, in the hope my son will be on one of the trains, but it hasn't happened so far.’ She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

  The young woman arched her eyebrows. ‘Let's hope he’s on today's.’ She shook her head. ‘I heard someone say they’re going to bring in conscription, whatever that is.’

  The women stopped talking as they watched a train pull into the platform, casting its shadow over the people waiting. The wheels slowed and the puffing grey smoke gradually lessened. The carriage doors flew open before the train came to a complete standstill. Soldiers in their uniforms stepped off, the first few having to move quickly, as the train was still moving. Their boots and legs were caked in mud. Their weather-worn faces were tanned, each one etched with the pain and gravity of their experiences. Most of them were stooped over, not meeting anyone's gaze.

  People cheered as the soldiers approached. Some were waiting, searching the soldiers faces, their eyes alight with the expectation of seeing their man, brother or son.

  ‘Welcome home.’ An elderly woman went up to each man, repeating herself over and over again, guiding them to the buffet table, where they could each get a free cup of tea and a slice of cake.

  Alice searched as many faces as she could, looking for Freddie and Charles, but all to no avail. All she saw were bloodshot eyes and faces that appeared rigid and set in stone. Was this how Freddie and Charles were going to come back?

  ‘Welcome home.’ Alice frowned at the soldier standing in front of her. ‘Have a cup of tea and a slice of cake.’ She thrust a cup in front of him, along with the sponge cake. ‘You look exhausted.’

  The soldier stared at her. ‘Not many of us get to sleep properly.’ He bit hungrily into the light sponge. ‘The trenches fill up with water, rats run around your feet, and that's without the worry that the enemy are going to get you as soon as your eyes are shut.’

  Words failed Alice, as she shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry. I don't know what to say.’

  The soldier let out a humourless laugh. ‘Don't worry about it; trust me that's a good thing.’

  ‘I don't know about that,’ Alice mumbled. ‘I feel quite inadequate.’

  ‘Don't. You’re a vision standing there, and will lift the men's spirits.’ He laughed. ‘The cake's good too.’

  Alice smiled. ‘Thankfully.’

  The soldier raised his cup in salute and drained it before moving off, and she was faced with another soldier. The eyes of a man, but the face of a boy stared back at her.

  A couple of hours later, there was a shift change at the buffet table. Alice removed her apron and replaced it with her heavy black winter coat. She glanced across at her mother, who was doing the same thing. ‘I feel quite exhausted.’

  Sarah's face was ashen when she looked over at Alice. ‘They look terrible, don't they?’

  Alice nodded, searching for words that accurately conveyed her thoughts. ‘It's strange, but I’ve only thought of them coming back as injured, or not at all.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’ve never thought they wouldn't come back the same men they were.’ She shook her head. ‘These men today seemed so sad, and yet they were coming home.’

  Sarah walked over to the pram and peered inside, before looking back at Alice. ‘They probably know they have to go back. It's not over for them and what they’ve seen will probably never be forgotten. It’ll stay with them forever.’

  Alice fastened the last of the buttons on her coat. ‘I don't know how you do this every day.’

  ‘That's easy. Searching for the boys keeps me coming here.’ Sarah paused. ‘Just like you.’ She shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh. ‘I know why you insist on driving the ambulance here every night. We are both looking for them, in our own way.’

  Alice nodded. She blinked quickly as the tell-tale tears began to prick at her eyes. She closed them for a moment, knowing her mother's thoughts were the same as hers; they were with their men. Would they come back the same as the men that had stopped at the buffet table? Would they come back at all?

  Sarah grabbed the bar of the pram. ‘Come on, we have to stay positive; they deserve that.’

  Alice stared at her mother, wondering when she had grown so strong. Perhaps she always had been.

  Chapter 21

  January 1916

  Luke watched Alice over the top of his newspaper. She paced in the hallway, carrying Arthur close, rocking him back and forth, while singing a lullaby to him. His eyes were fighting to stay open, while tiny fingers gripped the sleeve of her loose-fitting cream blouse; cancelling afternoon tea had some advantages. Without looking up, she pushed at the sitting room door, not noticing the usual squeak of its hinges. The low grey clouds created drabness in the room, giving it a sombre feel. She sat on the sofa and laid Arthur against the arm, where she could watch him. He gave a little whimper, so she rested her hand on his chest and hummed for a couple of seconds.

  Luke closed his paper, before folding and placing it on the side table, between the sofa and the armchair.

  The rustling of pages startled Alice. ‘Sorry, Father, I'm afraid I was in a world of my own and didn't realise you were home.’

  Luke remained silent as he watched his daughter with his grandson. ‘You are going to make that baby soft.’

  Alice glared at him, dressed in the usual brown suit, with his white shirt and brown tie. She opened her mouth to speak, but changed her mind and glanced down at the front page of the newspaper that was sitting on the table. ‘I heard a rumour at Victoria Station they’re introducing conscription; is that true?’ Alice glanced across at her father.

  Luke yawned. ‘Yes, I think you'll find they have already.’

  Anger suddenly bubbled inside her. Her colour began to rise. ‘For God's sake, when will this end? Enough innocent people have already died, on both sides.’

  Luke stared at Alice. ‘Don't blaspheme. I understand you and your mother have been serving on the buffet table at Victoria Station.’

  Alice nodded and her anger began to subside at the memory of those men. ‘Yes, it’s heart wrenching.’ She sucked in her breath. ‘The soldiers look so sad. Pain is etched on their faces; none of them will ever be the same again, you know.’

  Luke sighed. ‘I don't know why you or your mother do it.’

  Alice's lips tightened into a thin line, seconds before she jumped up. ‘What? I can't believe you said that. All you do is preach about doing our bit for the war. Charles is missing and it's your fault. He only enlisted because he wanted you to be proud of him, and look where that has got him. What's worse is you don't ev
en care.’

  Luke stood up. ‘Your mother made him soft, and you are going to do the same to your son.’ He took a deep breath as he wandered over to the whisky decanter. ‘Women shouldn't be left in charge of boys, because they end up making them soft in the head.’

  ‘I don't know how you can say that. Charles was a bright, happy child, whereas Robert bullied us, forever playing ‘the eldest’ card, so he could get away with it.’ She glared across at her father; his back stiffening didn't stop her. ‘And what's more, you allowed it because he could do no wrong in your eyes. You turned him into a bully, Father.’ She watched him pour a large whisky into a tumbler. ‘Like you,’ she mumbled.

  Luke turned around and stared at her. He arched his eyebrows. ‘Have you quite finished?’

  Alice took a deep breath. ‘No. No, actually I haven't. You don't care that we haven't heard from Robert since the day he signed up. Freddie was with Charles, so God alone knows what's happened to those two. You want to know why we go to Victoria Station?’ She paused, waiting for a response, but he stood in silence. ‘We go, so we can look out for the men in this family. There’s nothing else we can do to find them, but you on the other hand could be asking your so-called influential friends if they can find out anything. Any news at all would be better than not knowing. You go to that damn club every day, but you offer us nothing in the way of kindness or support. I’ve had to ask Molly's father to write some letters, because you’ve done nothing. Charles, and even Robert, deserve better than that. Call yourself a father; you’re just a cold fish that’s squashed mother's strength for years, with your tyrannical attitude. Well I can tell you, she’s got strength I didn't know about, because it was buried so deep. She's the one saying we should stay positive. She's the one out looking for them, not you.’

  Luke's jaw dropped. His eyes widened as he stared at his eldest daughter. His body stiffened as he took a step nearer to her. He slammed his glass down; the amber liquid spilt over the sides and dribbled on to the table.

  Seeing the glint of steel in her father's eyes, Alice stepped backwards. She ignored the fear that gripped her chest. ‘Come on, Father, have you got nothing to say?’ she taunted him. ‘Tell me, what have you been doing for the war effort?’

  Luke's hands clenched and unclenched by his sides. ‘I am not answerable to you, or anyone else for that matter, and if you want to stay living in my house, you will watch your tongue.’

  Alice pulled her shoulders back and jutted out her chin. Her heart pounded in her chest; the tension was tangible. ‘I can tell you what you've done – nothing.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You know, you could be visiting the men at Charing Cross Hospital. Some of them are so bandaged up, they can't read or see anything. Some of them have no families to visit them. You could be helping with some of the services, or just handing out cups of tea, but no, unless you can do the manly thing of going off to fight, it's beneath you.’ Alice saw the pulsating at the side of her father's temple, but the gate had been opened and she could no longer close it.

  Arthur gave a cry, waving his arms around and kicking his legs. Alice bent down and picked him up. ‘Sshh little one, everything’s all right,’ she whispered as she rocked him back and forth again.

  Luke sped past Alice, as he escaped her onslaught.

  *

  Sarah rushed into the sitting room. ‘What's happened?’ Her face flushed as she quickly looked around, before settling on Alice. ‘Your father has just rushed past me, with a face like thunder. I tried to talk to him but he ignored me and slammed the front door as he left.’ Her hands clenched in front of her. ‘He didn't even put his coat on,’ she mumbled. ‘He'll freeze out there.’

  Alice looked sheepishly at her mother. ‘I think you'll find that it was my fault.’

  Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‘Yours?’

  ‘Yes, I'm afraid I actually told him what I thought about him.’ Alice bit down on her bottom lip. ‘I’d say I’m sorry, but I'm not.’

  ‘I don't know what to say, except that I'm shocked.’

  Alice gave a bitter laugh. ‘Yes, I think he was as well.’

  Sarah stared at her eldest daughter for a moment. ‘Nothing has happened has it? I mean, you haven't had any news, have you?’

  ‘No. He told me I was making my son soft, and said you’d done the same with Charles.’ Alice sighed. ‘I think he may never forgive me, so I shall have to start looking for my own home soon.’

  Sarah's eyes widened as she slumped into the chair. ‘You can obviously move out whenever you see fit, but it has to be when you want to, and not because your father didn't like hearing some home truths.’

  Alice's jaw slackened as she looked over at her mother. ‘I probably did go too far, but once I’d started, I couldn't seem to control myself.’

  ‘He was probably more shocked that it was you. He expects it from Lily, although she does seem to have been more settled since she has gained a purpose in her life.’ Sarah shook her head. ‘I wish I’d seen his face.’ She lifted her hand and patted down the back of her grey hair.

  ‘It's better that you weren't here.’ Alice frowned. ‘I didn't plan it; to be honest, it caught me by surprise. I don't know what got into me.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘Oh, I expect I can tell you that. You were probably inadvertently protecting your child. It's instinctive.’

  Alice nodded. ‘Well, I hope you don't get any backlash from it.’ She looked down at her son, before glancing across at her mother. ‘He did say if I wanted to continue to live here, I had to be quiet, but I kept going.’

  Sarah stood up and wandered over to her daughter. ‘Don't worry about it; I'll sort it out.’ She smiled down at Arthur. ‘You need the support of your family around you, at least until Freddie gets home.’

  ‘Where do you suppose he's gone?’ Alice frowned, now wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

  Sarah shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don't worry yourself. He's probably gone to the club; he'll be back when he's hungry.’ She smiled down at Arthur. ‘He's such a contented baby.’

  Alice smiled down at her son, whose big eyes were staring up at the pair of them. ‘Go on, you can pick him up if you want to.’ She laughed. ‘And you know you do.’

  Sarah beamed as she scooped him into her arms and planted a kiss on his forehead. ‘It’s wonderful having a baby in the house.’ She walked around the room, talking to him in a sing-song voice. ‘He certainly takes my mind off everything else, don't you, yes you do.’

  Arthur smiled up at Sarah.

  She screamed with delight. ‘Did you see that? I just got a lovely smile.’

  Alice laughed as she walked over to the window. She pulled the black material first, to stop any light seeping out onto the street, and then pulled the heavy brown curtains. She yearned for the longer days of spring. Alice looked round at the sound of her mother's murmurings, and smiled. Arthur was sound asleep in her mother's arms and she was still talking to him. ‘Shall I take him off you, so you can relax for a little while, before father comes home?’

  Sarah looked up and gave her daughter a smile. ‘This is relaxing; I’m in my element.’ Her gaze went back to her grandson.

  Alice sat down and picked up her knitting. She pulled the soft fibres of the pale blue wool flat on her lap and examined the stitches. ‘Hmm, I think I'm getting better at this knitting malarkey.’

  ‘What are you making?’ Sarah glanced up and frowned. ‘That looks too pale to be socks for the men.’

  Alice laughed. ‘I thought I’d have a go at knitting Arthur a cardigan.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘You should be all right; just take your time.’

  The house shuddered as the front door slammed shut. Alice's head jerked up and she quickly looked at her mother, who had done the same thing. She braced herself for her father's anger, not taking her eyes off the sitting room door. Her body was rigid and, without realising it, she held her breath, waiting, wanting to get it over and done with. The door slowly opened.

  ‘Eveni
ng.’ Lily flopped into an armchair and closed her eyes, oblivious to the looks of relief that had slowly spread across her mother and sister's faces. ‘What a day. It's quite bitter out there this evening. Sorry about the door, but the wind seemed to whisk it out of my fingers.’ It was only then she opened her eyes and looked across at the other occupants of the room. ‘What's the matter with you two?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Alice answered quickly, forcing her attention back to her knitting.

  Lily frowned and her gaze moved from one to the other. ‘Come on, tell’

  ‘We just thought you were Father coming in,’ Alice answered vaguely, but didn't look up.

  ‘Hmm.’ Lily squinted at the pair of them. ‘Don't forget I am a police officer and can smell a rat a mile away.’ She stood up and began unbuttoning her jacket. ‘Come on, let's have it.’

  Alice smiled at her sister. ‘Are you going all policeman on us?’

  Lily pulled her jacket off and slung it over the arm of the chair. ‘Policewoman actually, but yes I am, so come on, out with it.’

  Sarah sighed. ‘It's nothing. Alice had an argument with your father.’

  Lily's jaw dropped as she lowered herself back into the chair. ‘Well, I'll be…’

  Alice frowned as her sister's voice faded away. ‘There's no need to be so astonished.’

  ‘You are kidding me, right?’ Lily fidgeted in her seat. ‘You actually had an argument with Father?’ She paused, raising her eyebrows. ‘What, a real argument, or did you just ignore some banal instruction he gave you?’

  Alice took a deep breath, not really wanting to talk about it. ‘You’re talking as though I am not capable of such a thing.’

  Lily laughed for a few minutes, before wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘If I'm being honest, I didn't think you were,’ she said, in between gulping for air.

  Alice shook her head. ‘Well I'm clearly more capable than you thought, thank you very much.’

  Lily's laughter stopped and she looked over at Alice. ‘Don't misunderstand me, I’m thrilled. It's about time the women in this family started to fight back.’