The Foyles Bookshop Girls

by Elaine Roberts

  *

  Alice draped a shawl around her mother's shoulders as she sat up in her bedroom. ‘It's good to have you home; you frightened us yesterday.’ She gave her mother a smile.

  ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you all.’ Sarah sighed. ‘To be honest, I don't remember anything about it. One minute I was standing up, and the next, I was at the hospital.’

  Alice nodded. ‘It doesn't matter now. The main thing is you’re all right, but you’ve to start taking things easy.’ She laughed as her mother opened her mouth to speak. ‘For a while at least, and no argument.’ Alice leaned in to take a closer look at the cut on her forehead. ‘Does your head hurt?’

  ‘It's a little bit tender, but not too bad.’ Sarah lifted her hand to touch the cut.

  Alice smiled as she tapped her hand away. ‘Leave it. I'll bring Arthur in to see you later; that’ll cheer you up, but in the meantime, be good.’

  Sarah smiled at her eldest daughter. ‘You're a good girl and an excellent mum. Freddie is very lucky to have you.’

  Anxiety chased Alice's smile away.

  Sarah grabbed her daughter's hand. ‘I'm sorry. I just meant—’

  ‘I know. Don't fret; everything will be all right in the end.’ Alice mustered up her smile. ‘Just rest. You have your knitting, and there are a couple of books on the side for you to read, so try to relax.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘I'll be good, I promise. What about Foyles?’

  Alice laughed at her mother's reassurance. ‘See, already you’ve moved on to worrying about my job. Stop worrying.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve asked Lily to pop in there and tell them I won't be returning yet, I shall wait until I know you are well enough to be left.’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘But it’s not necessary, I’m not on my own, Mrs Headley is here.’

  Alice took the couple of steps towards the bedroom door. ‘I'll be back later to check on you.’

  Sarah nodded.

  Alice checked that Arthur was still asleep, before skipping downstairs to the dining room. She stopped short when her father came into view. He was sat at the table, nursing a cup of something, which appeared to have his full attention. Slices of toast stood waiting for someone to butter them. An untouched boiled egg was on a plate in front of him. Alice took a deep breath, before clearing her throat and walking into the room. ‘Morning, Father.’ He sat in silence and didn't look up. Determined he wasn't going to ignore her, no matter how angry he was, she raised her voice. ‘Morning, Father.’

  His head jerked, as if he had been released from a deep sleep.

  Alice's eyes narrowed as she watched him. ‘I know you are angry with me, but you can't ignore me; that's just rude.’

  Luke stared at his daughter, as though he had never seen her before.

  Alice sighed. ‘I know I owe you an apology for my outburst yesterday, and I am sorry.’

  Luke returned his gaze to his cold tea.

  ‘Don't misunderstand me,’ Alice continued. ‘I’m not apologising for the sentiment of what I said, but I’m sorry for the way that I said it.’

  The silence between them seemed to last an eternity. Alice sat down and poured a cup of tea. She knew it would be cold, but she was unable to stand in front of him, waiting to be told off. She lifted the cup and sipped it, trying not to grimace, as the tepid liquid entered her mouth.

  ‘The tea has been there a while; you'll need a fresh pot.’ A smile played on Luke's lips as he looked at his daughter.

  Alice wondered if he was enjoying her discomfort. Was it all part of her punishment? She shrugged her shoulders. ‘It'll do me; it's wet.’

  Luke studied his daughter. ‘Something has changed you. I wonder if it's being a mother, being married or the extra things that you're doing because of the war.’

  Alice frowned as she put her cup back on its matching saucer. ‘I think the war has changed many lives. You’re the only person I know that appears to be unscathed by it.’

  ‘You are wrong there.’

  Startled, Alice shook her head. She raised her eyebrows as she faced him. ‘At the risk of making you angry again, tell me how?’

  ‘You and your comments yesterday,’ Luke whispered.

  ‘I don't understand.’ Alice jutted out her chin. ‘I’ve already apologised for the manner in which I spoke to you, but I’ll never apologise for what I said.’

  ‘You don't need to apologise.’ Luke sucked in his breath as he looked at Alice. ‘You were right.’

  ‘So why didn't you come home last night, instead of letting us all worry about you. I expect you hid in that club of yours.’ Alice watched her father shake his head, before frowning. ‘Am I missing something here? If I am, please tell, so I can understand.’

  ‘I walked around for a long time.’ Luke picked up his cup and went to take a sip, but stopped just before it reached his lips and put it down again.

  ‘You must have been freezing.’

  Luke gave a brittle laugh. ‘To be honest, I didn't notice. When the daughter you consider to be a mouse starts fighting back, it's usually time to sit up and listen.’

  ‘I'm not sure I like that description, but,’ Alice lifted her hand and placed it on her chest. ‘I'm sorry, I truly am. I don't really know what got into me.’

  ‘Don't be sorry.’ Luke paused. ‘It probably should have been said years ago.’

  Alice slumped back against her chair.

  ‘Anyway, I didn't go to the club. I walked for what seemed like ages and when I looked up, I was near St Thomas' Hospital.’ He looked at Alice and gave a small laugh. ‘Someone must have been on your side.’

  Alice stared at him. Words were failing her.

  Luke sighed. ‘Anyway, I went in, and if I'm honest, it all frightened me a little bit. I wanted to run away, but I couldn't. It made me realise the things you and your mother have seen must have been horrendous, let alone the boys at the front.’ He stopped and shook his head. He bit his lip and blinked quickly. ‘I, er…’ He paused. ‘I asked the nurse if I could help in any way and she sent me to sit with a man, a soldier. I say a man, although he didn't look any older than Charles.’ He sucked in his breath and straightened his lips. ‘It turns out they had done all they could and he wasn't going to last the night.’

  Alice stared at her father, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘Anyway, I stayed with him all night, well, until he passed away.’ Tears rolled down Luke's cheeks. ‘I talked to him and held his hand. We prayed a little.’ He angrily wiped his tears away. ‘He knew he was dying; such a brave boy. I promised to contact his mother, so I shall do that today.’ He took a deep breath and shook his head. ‘I don't know how you and your mother do it every day,’ he whispered.

  Alice reached out and held her father's hand. ‘It’s hard, but you gave that man some comfort. He didn't die alone and that's what you have to remember.’

  Luke nodded. ‘I felt so helpless.’

  ‘I know; they come back broken. Whether they survive the war or not, none of them will ever be the same again. When I'm at Victoria Station, you can see their experiences etched on their faces. There are no smiles, only bravado.’

  ‘You'll be pleased to know I have arranged to be a helper at the hospital.’ Luke gave a little laugh. ‘I say helper, but really I shall sit with the patients. The nursing staff will tell me who is in most need, and that's where I shall go.’

  Alice smiled at her father. ‘It’s a good thing you’re doing, because it means so much to the men, yet it’s only costing you your time.’

  Luke nodded. ‘So instead of you apologising, I should be thanking you for your outburst yesterday.’

  Alice's eyes widened as realisation dawned on her. ‘Last night, were you already at the hospital when Molly found you?’

  ‘Yes, he had just died when Molly saw me.’

  ‘But you never said anything. You let me go on at you. Why didn't you stop me?’

  Luke shrugged his shoulders. ‘Emotions were running high and, to be honest
, I didn't really want to talk about why I was there. It suited me to let you think I had just arrived for your mother.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I'm glad I didn't know earlier, because I wouldn't have known what to do. The boy needed me. He gripped my hand so tight, I am not sure I could have left him.’

  Chapter 23

  Alice stared straight ahead at the dining room window; the black material had been pulled back with the curtains. The wind rattled the frame, making a haunting noise, causing her to shiver. The sun was too weak to break through the grey clouds and drops of rain splashed onto the glass. Alice thought about the men on the front line. She had heard stories of the soldiers being up to their waists in water, with huge rats for company. They were not even able to light their cigarettes for comfort, because everything was soaked. She couldn't imagine the din of being bombarded with gunfire, or bombs exploding all around you, let alone the effect of someone dying next to you. Then there was the poisonous gas. She shook her head, trying to digest her father's words. ‘It would have been difficult for you,’ Alice whispered, staring at the uneaten toast sitting in the centre of the dining table. ‘But we were there for Mother and yes, I was angry with you, but that was because I thought you were just punishing us.’ She glanced across at her father. ‘Had I known you were giving comfort to someone, I'd like to think I’d have behaved differently.’

  Luke arched his eyebrows. ‘I can see that, but I suppose I got caught up in the moment and didn't stop to think about anyone else. I just knew I couldn't leave him.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ Alice whispered. ‘I’d like to think, if any of our men were in that position, someone would show them the same kindness, whichever country they were in.’

  Luke nodded, wondering what words of wisdom he could offer, but he knew there were none.

  ‘You know, I’ve heard some harrowing stories.’ Alice looked down at her hands, gripped in her lap. A tear fell onto her thumb. ‘And every time I hear one, I hope and pray that everyone is safe and not living through the same nightmares. I can't bear the thought of Freddie or Charles not coming home.’ A sob caught in Alice's throat as she gulped for air. Realising what she had said, she looked over at the blurry figure of her father. ‘Robert as well.’ She swallowed hard, trying to remove the lump that had formed in her throat. ‘Obviously. It's just,’ she whispered, ‘I have a closeness with Charles that isn't there with Robert.’

  Luke nodded. ‘I understand.’

  ‘The thought of them never meeting Arthur is just unbearable, let alone the thought of my life with Freddie being over, before it actually begins.’ Alice pulled out her handkerchief and blew her nose, before dabbing at her cheeks.

  ‘We have to stay positive,’ Luke whispered. He wasn't sure what to say or do in this unknown territory.

  Alice gave a brittle laugh. ‘That's what Mother always says; she said they at least deserve our positivity.’

  Luke nodded. ‘And she's right. God will bring them back to us, and that is what we have to believe.’

  ‘Will he?’ Alice shook her head. ‘There are an awful lot of men not coming back. Why should ours be any different?’

  ‘Don't lose your faith, Alice. We have to pray for their safe return, and believe it, because what else is there?’

  Alice stared at her father. ‘I do try and, as a rule, I think I succeed but sometimes it just gets all too much for me. I look at Arthur and wonder if he'll ever know his father is a wonderful man.’

  ‘He will know. We shall make sure of it.’ Luke scraped back his chair and walked around the dining table. He hesitated, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around his daughter. ‘I have let you down, but I will start asking questions and writing letters. I know I'm a bit late, but better late than never.’ He squeezed his daughter close to him. ‘I am sorry.’

  *

  Luke sat in the corner of the library, in the Gentlemen's Club. Hundreds of books covered the shelves, from floor to ceiling. Only a few men were sitting in there, reading newspapers and books. The woody bouquet of cigars hung in the air, mingling with the rich intense aroma of coffee. Luke twiddled his pen as he remembered this corner used to be where the Gettins sat, when he first joined the family firm. He looked around. It was a good spot, because you could see the whole room and all the comings and goings. He sighed and looked down at his blank piece of writing paper. He looked up again, only to gaze out at St James’s Street. Smoke billowed out of chimney pots, only to get lost amongst the grey clouds and the never-ending rain that drizzled down on everyone's umbrellas and hats of varying styles and sizes.

  The grey weather seemed to epitomise Luke's mood. He had no idea where to turn next. He needed to ask around, or maybe take an advert out in a newspaper. There must be something he could do. He turned back to his paper and began scribbling a list of ideas.

  ‘Morning, Luke.’

  A chair knocked against the table leg, causing it to wobble. Luke looked up, using his hands to steady it. ‘Sorry, Edward, I didn't mean to be rude. I was engrossed in making some notes.’

  Edward nodded. ‘You don't mind if I join you, do you?’

  ‘No, of course not. In fact, you may be able to help.’ Luke lowered his eyes to his paper.

  A steward came over to take an order. ‘Luke, do you want a coffee?’ Edward glanced at his watch. ‘Or a whisky? It’s lunch time, so it's acceptable.’

  Luke looked up. ‘Coffee please.’ He watched the steward walk away. ‘The whisky drinking is going to stop, or at least slow down for the time being.’

  Edward raised his eyebrows, while his fingers formed a steeple against his chin. ‘I’m pleased to hear it, but I’m intrigued as to what has brought it on.’

  Luke put down his pen and sat back in his chair. ‘Your granddaughter started it.’

  Edward laughed. ‘Oh, has Lily been giving you a hard time again?’

  Luke's eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed. ‘No. You would expect it to be her, but it was Alice.’

  ‘Alice?’ Edward shook his head. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘I know, but they say it's the quiet ones you have to watch.’ Luke laughed. ‘As shocking as it is, it's true.’ He paused, closing his eyes momentarily before looking back at Edward. ‘The thing is, everything she said to me was right, but that's not to say it was easy to take, because it wasn't.’

  The steward appeared with two cups, a small jug of warm milk and a pot of coffee, and without a word, he placed them on the table between the two men.

  ‘Well.’ Edward wrinkled his nose. ‘I can't pretend I'm not curious about what was said.’

  ‘To be honest, she told me some home truths, which I can't pretend I liked. I spent a lot of the evening walking around, trying to take in what she had said to me.’ Luke raised his eyebrows. ‘I don't think she meant to be hurtful, because Alice isn't made that way, but it certainly hit a nerve.’

  Edward shook his head, not sure if he was hearing his son-in-law correctly. ‘It sounds like she didn't hold back.’

  Luke laughed. ‘No she didn't, but the upside is that I think I have found something that was missing from my life, so as difficult as it was, I am grateful to her.’

  Edward leant forward, picking up the coffee pot, and began pouring a measure in each cup. ‘Which is?’

  ‘I think it's about being useful; you know, being needed again.’ Luke paused. ‘Everyone around me seems to have outgrown me, and I suppose I felt a bit of a spare part.’

  Edward nodded as he stirred some milk into his coffee. ‘So what have you found, that has given you a new lease of life?’

  ‘I went to the hospital.’ Luke looked at his father-in-law. ‘Obviously not intentionally, but when I saw all those men, injured and dying, it just made me realise there was something I could do to help.’

  Edward watched Luke pour the milk into his coffee. ‘Is that what you are writing about?’

  Luke frowned. ‘No, what I saw at that hospital will stay with me forever; I don't need
to write it down.’ He picked up his cup and sipped the strong dark liquid. ‘Oh, that's hot.’ He replaced the cup back onto its saucer. ‘I promised Alice I would try and find out about the boys and Freddie. If I'm honest, I'm not sure where to turn, but I don't want to let her down.’

  Edward nodded.

  ‘I have found the address of the War Office and sent a letter there, asking for information about their whereabouts. That has been followed up with a letter to Lord Kitchener, but as yet I have no news to pass on.’ Luke picked up his pen again and doodled on the paper. ‘I just don't know where to go next.’

  Edward watched Luke drawing box after box, wondering if there was any significant meaning to them. ‘George might be able to help.’

  Luke let out a heavy sigh. ‘I don't think he would help; he doesn't like me.’

  ‘It's not that he doesn't like you; he doesn't like what you stand for. George and Emily have a great sense of family, and there’s nothing they wouldn't do for Sarah and her children.’ Edward paused.

  Luke gave a brittle laugh. ‘The trouble is, I have always seen George as a do-gooder.’

  Edward smiled. ‘That's because he is. He owns a house that is used for women and children running away from their violent husbands, so yes, he’ll always champion a woman's cause, because he has first-hand experience of how bad a man can be. He doesn't care what people think about him. He’s a very principled man and happy with his life's achievements.’

  Luke nodded.

  ‘We both see signs that you didn't marry for love, but I know Sarah did, so for her father, that is heartbreaking. I loved her mother with my whole being and when she died, I also wanted to die.’ Edward watched Luke almost fold in his chair. ‘You have to remember, Emily was there for Sarah when her mother died, not me, because I couldn't cope. Trust me, I know all about letting your family down, but it doesn't mean you can't get that trust back again. It does take hard work though.’

  Words failed Luke. He lowered his eyes as shame washed over him.