Christmas is for Children

by Rosie Clarke

  Honour was torn between the lovely secret she hugged to herself and fear that Flo would despise her. No, she wouldn’t do that – she didn’t despise the girls who had to get married in a hurry – but she would be angry. She had made it clear that Honour had to wait until next summer to marry, and that was fair enough. If anything happened… But it wouldn’t, of course it wouldn’t the first time.

  Roy had held her in his arms afterwards as she’d shed a few tears.

  ‘It doesn’t happen the first time; lots of women have to wait for years before they have a child.’ He’d smiled and kissed her nose. ‘You know I love you, Honour – if anything happened, I’d marry you straight away, I promise.’ He looked rueful. ‘I never meant this to happen, truly. It was just… you were so sweet and trusting and I got carried away.’

  ‘It wasn’t all your fault,’ Honour had admitted, because she’d been swept away on a wave of love and desire. ‘I should have refused – but I didn’t want to. I love you, Roy, and I wanted it to happen – and I want to be married so that it can happen whenever we want. It isn’t fair that we have to wait…’

  ‘It’s best if we do,’ Roy had said. ‘Once I’ve finished my term of service in the army, I’ll find us a house with a shopfront that I can use to set up my business. I want something like your sister’s shop only a bit bigger – and if I can find somewhere not too far away you’ll be able to see her often…’

  ‘You’re so good to me,’ Honour had cried and threw her arms about him, kissing him passionately. Her embrace had almost led to them making love again, and she’d been lost in the heat of desire, but Roy had called a halt that time.

  ‘I need to look after you,’ he’d murmured and touched her mouth with one finger. ‘I didn’t come after you just to get my wicked way, Honour – I want you for my wife…’

  Her feeling of guilt subsided as she scrubbed her face with cold water from her jug on the wash stand in the corner of the room. Flo said that when she could afford it she was going to have a proper bath installed in the box room, but Honour knew they were lucky to have an inside toilet upstairs. Most of the houses in the road still had a toilet outside and used chamber pots during the night. Flo had a sink with hot and cold taps in the kitchen; the water was heated by the kitchen range, but she hadn’t been able to afford to put the plumbing in upstairs yet. They used a zinc bath in front of the kitchen fire, which afforded privacy, because they locked the door and took it in turns to bathe. Roy had told Honour he was going to make sure that the house he got for them had proper plumbing upstairs and down.

  As she jumped into a cold bed, Honour pulled the sheets up to her chin. Flo had put a hot-water bottle in for her hours ago, but it had gone cold and she pulled it out, dropping it to the floor. She was hours later than she ought to have been and had wondered if she would find the back door locked or Flo sitting up waiting for an explanation. Neither had happened and that had made Honour feel even guiltier as she crept in and locked the door after her.

  She knew Flo would expect an explanation in the morning and she had one ready, though she hated the thought of lying. The truth was neither of them had realised the time and when they did it was already long past the hour Honour was expected home. Flo had obviously given up and gone to bed… but she would know that her sister had been very late in.

  Sighing, Honour turned over and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about facing Flo; she wanted to relive the excitement and tenderness she’d felt in her lover’s arms.

  *

  Flo heard Honour come in and creep up the stairs. She heard the little click of her door and was relieved that she was back safe. That evening, Roy had come for her in a small Ford motor car he’d borrowed from a friend and Flo had foolishly worried that they might have had an accident. Of course they hadn’t! No doubt they’d sat cuddling and kissing in the back seat and time had flown. Flo could still remember the stolen moments with Robbie; time had flown then, but she’d never dared to be late back, even when she’d been courting, she’d only ever been a few minutes late and her mother had looked pointedly at the clock.

  Things were different now; Flo knew that decent young women were allowed to go out with their young men without chaperones and had been for some years, but her parents had been strict. Had Flo come home two hours late, her father would have taken his belt to her. Even now, he looked annoyed if she was a little late coming back from the mission on a Friday night. However, Flo couldn’t find it in her heart to blame her darling daughter. She was in love and it looked as if Roy really cared for her. Flo prayed he wouldn’t let her down; she didn’t think she could bear it if history repeated itself – but surely it wouldn’t. She’d explained what making love was, which, was something her own mother would rather have died than done. Flo was sure Honour had more sense than to make the same mistake now that she knew… and she made up her mind not to make a big thing of Honour being late. After all, the girl had made it clear she wanted to marry and she was old enough. Perhaps Flo was being unfair to make her wait until next summer…

  It would be very hard to let her go. Flo would miss working with her each day and it would make things much harder for her. She couldn’t manage everything without help – and no one else would work for the small wage Honour accepted without question. Her father would have to give up at least some of his share of their profits. She couldn’t imagine what he needed it for these days, but he never failed to ask if she neglected to put the money by his bed every week.

  Tossing and turning sleeplessly, Flo thought about the tea she’d shared with Mr Waters, Robbie and his family. It had been such a happy time for her, even though Robbie hadn’t said much. She’d hoped he might come into the shop to buy something for the children, but he hadn’t and she’d stopped looking for him. For a moment as he’d met her eyes, Flo had thought he still cared, but she was mistaken. Robbie had never loved her; he’d only wanted the excitement of the forbidden and he’d run away rather than face the consequences.

  Tears were trickling down her cheeks. Flo rubbed them away and sat up as she heard her father moving about. He’d got out of bed by himself, but unless she went to check on him, he might end up spending the rest of the night on the floor and it was much too cold to let him lie there.

  She went softly into his room and saw him getting up from the commode. He saw her and shook his head, annoyed with her or himself, she wasn’t sure which, but could see that he hadn’t wanted her.

  ‘I didn’t ring fer yer,’ he muttered crossly. ‘Yer ’ave ter be up again in a couple of hours.’

  ‘I know, but I didn’t want you to fall and freeze to death. It’s cold enough for snow, Dad.’

  ‘I dare say,’ he muttered. ‘Something woke me. I’m not sure what. I can manage if you just give me yer arm. I’m gettin’ stronger.’

  ‘Good,’ Flo said. ‘It will be better for you if you don’t need help all the time – and you will be happier if you can come down more.’

  ‘I’d be pleased if I thought you meant it, Flo.’

  ‘Well, I do,’ she assured him. ‘It’s easier to pop into the kitchen to make you a cup of tea than run upstairs.’ He pulled a face at that and she smiled. ‘Of course I’m pleased if you’re feelin’ better. You’re my father. I don’t want you to die.’

  He looked at her and cleared his throat but said nothing.

  Flo saw him settled in bed and then went to the window and glanced out.

  ‘It’s white everywhere,’ she observed. ‘Jack Frost is at work, but there’s no sign of snow yet.’

  ‘It’s savin’ itself for the week before Christmas, makin’ it difficult for folk to get their shoppin’,’ he quipped and grinned.

  ‘Yes, very likely,’ Flo agreed. ‘Ring if you need me…’

  She left him and went down the hall, pausing as she looked at Honour’s door. She was tempted to go in and make sure she was all right, but Honour wasn’t a little girl now. It was time to let her grow up, even if it meant losing
her.

  Flo’s eyes felt wet, but she brushed the tears away and returned to her bed. If she didn’t get some sleep she would be too tired to work in the morning.

  *

  Honour was down first. She’d started making the first batch of sponge cakes and was mixing some buttercream with a light whisk. For a moment she concentrated on her work, looking up only when Flo spoke to her.

  ‘What flavour have you made today?’

  ‘I made two coffee sponges, four vanilla and two almond,’ Honour told her. ‘I’m doing a vanilla icing for the almond sponges with an almond buttercream filling, coffee icing for the coffee sponge with walnuts, and a strawberry jam and buttercream filling for the plain sponges.’

  ‘I’ll make some fancies then.’ Flo turned away to start gathering what she needed for her little iced fancy cakes. ‘Did you have a nice evening, love?’ She looked at her daughter thinking she seemed a little quiet.

  ‘Yes, lovely,’ Honour said. ‘We went for a drink at a posh place near the river and then just drove round for a while. Roy wanted to take me to the Christmas dance at the church hall tomorrow, but I told him I’d been out a lot lately and I would have to ask you first…’

  ‘You may go if you wish,’ Flo agreed. ‘Of course you can, Honour. You do your share of the work; you deserve to have some fun…’

  ‘I thought I’d make some more sugar mice and rum truffles this evenin’ – we’ve sold all but two bags of the truffles and there are only two pink mice left.’

  ‘I’ve taken several orders for the truffles and the sugar mice,’ Flo said. ‘I wrote them in the book so you could see what is on order – and we have twenty orders for iced cakes. It means we shall be busy the last few days before Christmas. I think we ought to start the marzipan icing this evening and keep them well wrapped. If we leave everything until the last moment we’ll never get it all done…’

  ‘I’ll tell Roy I can’t go out as much when we start the icing…’

  ‘You can ask him to come round and when you’ve done your cake you can go out for a little walk…’

  ‘You’re so good to me,’ Honour murmured and her cheeks were bright pink.

  ‘I was young once and I thought I was in love,’ Flo said and then wished she could take the words back as Honour stared at her.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  Flo began mixing the smooth thick sugar paste she needed to ice her little fancies. ‘Oh, he went away and forgot me… I’ve never been sure why…’ A little voice in her head told her that it was because Robbie had been scared of responsibility and yet a part of her didn’t believe that – had never believed it. Robbie had sworn he loved her. He’d been shocked when she told him her news and left her abruptly. Flo had always believed that he would come back – she’d gone on believing it right up until the day her daughter was born and she’d known Robbie wouldn’t return to her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Flo,’ Honour apologised. ‘I didn’t know you’d been let down…’

  ‘It was a long time ago and I’m well over it,’ Flo said, but in her heart she knew she would never forget her first and only love.

  ‘I wish I’d known…’

  Flo shook her head. ‘I’m goin’ to make a light fruit cake I can take round for Mr and Mrs Waters,’ she said. ‘I thought I might pop round there at teatime – if you can manage on your own for an hour or so?’

  ‘What happens if Dad rings his bell?’

  ‘Ignore him if you’re serving customers, but then put the closed notice on the door, go up and help him and come back down. I shan’t be too long. I’m only going to deliver the cake and have a little chat.’

  ‘All right, that’s fair,’ Honour agreed, though Flo knew she hated being left alone with the man she believed was her father. He didn’t like her helping him and would demand to know where Flo was – so perhaps she would tell him before she went. If he made himself comfortable first, he might not need to call Honour upstairs at all…

  *

  Bert Waters answered the door and smiled as he saw who his visitor was. He welcomed Flo in and insisted that she went up to say hello to his wife.

  ‘Millie is feeling a bit better today,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring her a cup of tea up and a piece of your cake. You’re spoiling us, Flo. She loved the last one you brought us… and I’ll bring a cup of tea for you, too.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ Flo told him. ‘It must be a lot for you, Bert – up and down stairs all day and looking after Millie. Is there no one who could help you?’

  ‘I dare say Effie next door would if I asked,’ Bert admitted, ‘but Millie wouldn’t care for it much – and I don’t like to be a trouble to anyone…’

  ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t be,’ Flo reassured him. ‘I shan’t poke my nose in, but don’t wear yourself out, Bert. I could manage to help a bit with the housework on Sunday afternoon… but I’ve got my hands full with the shop…’

  ‘You work hard enough and you’ve got your father to look after,’ Bert said. ‘You’re a kind young woman, Flo. I appreciate you coming like this – but you can’t take on any more….’

  Flo didn’t argue the point, because he was right. She would come when she could, but she was tied to her own house. A quick visit like this and perhaps on a Sunday afternoon, but that was as much as she could manage.

  She spent half an hour chatting to Millie, who seemed brighter than the last time she’d popped in but was still too weak to get out and use the commode herself. Bert was still helping her to wash, brush her hair and bringing up all her drinks and meals. Flo could see that it was tiring him out, but he would never dream of asking for help. Besides, he knew as well as she did, that the doctors would advise putting Millie in the infirmary and that was something Bert would never agree to.

  Flo didn’t want to leave him alone, but just as she was saying she must go, the door opened and Ruthie and Ben entered, their faces red from the cold and their eyes glowing.

  ‘I bought some chips for us all, Granda,’ Ben said and grinned at her. ‘Nice ter see yer, Miss Flo. I’ll be into the shop at the weekend.’ He winked at her behind Ruthie’s back and mouthed, ‘Two pink sugar mice.’

  Flo smiled and put a finger to her lips. She would make sure that the mice were freshly made and ready for him – and she would make something special for both Robbie’s children.

  Ruthie was making herself useful, setting out the plates that had been warming above the range. The children were clearly at home in this kitchen and she felt relieved that the elderly couple were not completely alone.

  Ben followed her out of the door as she went. ‘I want a few more bits for Ruthie, Miss Flo. I’ve got two shillings to spend on her… Can you make up a little parcel like you do in the window please?’

  ‘Yes, of course I will, Ben,’ Flo said, and then because she was anxious: ‘If you notice anything about Mr Waters – if he isn’t well – you come for me, do you understand? We need to make sure he doesn’t do too much….’

  ‘Yeah, I know, he’s a bit unsteady sometimes.’ Ben nodded wisely. ‘I was goin’ ter ask if it was all right to come to you, Miss Flo – I’d ask me dad, but he’s down in the dumps at the moment, right fed up about things.’

  ‘What happened? I thought he’d got some work at the mission?’

  ‘Yeah, but he walked out – said they didn’t trust him but wouldn’t tell me why,’ Ben said and Flo saw the anxiety on his face. ‘He’s back standin’ on the docks, and he’s got a cough. Yesterday, he came home after a couple of hours. He says it’s no good – they’ve blacked his name and he can’t get any work…’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Flo said dismayed. She didn’t like to think of Robbie out of work again. ‘I’ll speak to Mr Hansen about it and ask what happened. I know your father was doin’ a good job there…’

  ‘Thanks,’ Ben said and grinned at her. ‘I’d better get back. We’re havin’ some of Granny’s mustard pickle wiv our chips tonight… it’s much bette
r than they have in the shops.’

  ‘You go back then,’ Flo told him and smiled at his eagerness. ‘Remember, if you need anything at all, come to me. It doesn’t matter what time of the day or night…’

  ‘Thanks. Yer all right.’ Ben nodded and returned to the warmth of the cottage.

  Flo walked briskly through streets that were rapidly getting colder, the pavements slippery under her feet. Smoke from the chimneys mingled with the cold air, making an icy fog that seemed to flow in from the river. She could hear the horns of boats and tugs out on the Thames and they made an eerie backdrop to almost empty streets. Nobody wanted to be about much in this weather, though the lights were on in the pub at the end of Fettle Street. Men who had nowhere else to go would make a half-pint last all night just to keep warm by the landlord’s fire.

  She was glad to get back to the warmth and light of her home. Even though she had no parlour, her kitchen was familiar and comfortable. Taking her coat off and hanging it on the stand in the hall, Flo donned her crisp white apron and went through to the shop.

  Honour was tidying the shelves and wiping the spaces between pretty tins and parcels tied up with cellophane paper.

  ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, he hasn’t rung once,’ Honour said. ‘I’ve sold the last sponge and all of your fancies went to one customer. He says he’s just discovered us and he wants one of our Christmas cakes, a dozen truffles and a box of coconut ice, some marzipan fancies and six of the sugar mice. He’s going to pick them up next week – on the Thursday.’

  ‘A special customer by the sound of it,’ Flo replied, pleased with the order. ‘We’re going to be busy making replacements for those truffles again. I’ve got an order too…’ She smiled as Honour’s brow rose. ‘Two pink sugar mice and some coconut ice chips, also some of those strawberry creams I made…’