Letters to Alice

by Rosie James

  Rex could hardly contain his excitement. They were going to open in Dorchester – a lovely town he’d been to once or twice – and he was going to be asked to run it! He’d be able to get out of this dreary place once and for all, start something fresh! He had nothing to keep him in Bristol any longer – his parents were both dead, leaving him to live alone in the house in Whitchurch…it was going to be his turn to find fields afresh! A fresh slate! Something different!

  Mr. Pennington wiped his mouth with his napkin, and glanced at Rex. ‘You have run this office admirably for several years, Rex,’ he said, ‘and you have never given any cause for complaint.’

  Yes, but go on, go on,. Rex thought…get on with it…

  ‘And we hope you will continue to do so for many more fruitful years to come,’ Mr. Pennington continued, crashing Rex’s hopes to earth in one fell swoop. ‘But I’m afraid it is going to mean you finding another secretary, because we are hoping that Miss Watts will agree to move to Dorchester and head the opening of the new office there.’ He turned to Alice, who frowned, mystified. What had he just said? She’d never opened an office before in her life…how d’you do it?

  ‘You see, Miss Watts,’ Mr. Pennington explained, ‘within a very short time of your appointment before the war, you impressed us with your inborn sense of what needed to be done in this business…the lettings and sales records here at the time were outstanding, and Rex always gave you the full credit for it. He said it was your creativity with the advertisement boards, your attitude with clients, your attitude and, um, sometimes your persuasive powers…nudging people in the direction you thought would suit them best…you seemed able to clinch deals with the minimum of delay – which is pretty unknown in the trade, as we all know only too well,’ he added. ‘So – it was a board decision that if you agree, you should be the one to front the new venture – as soon as possible – with a rise in pay to reflect your new status. Of course it will mean living down there – your accommodation will be found and paid for by the company – and you will need one or two staff to assist you. But you will be given full instructions as to how to go about the whole thing. To get it up and running.’ He turned to Rex. ‘I’m sorry to do this to you, Rex, because I know how much you have valued Miss Watts’s work, but I am sure you will find someone suitable to replace her.’ He paused, waiting for some sort of reaction from Alice – who had listened to what he’d said with mounting disbelief.

  And then with mounting amazement. She had always known that someone was looking out for her, looking after her, and she’d just been told that a new home was waiting for her, her living problems sorted! And enough money to enjoy yet another brand new, and totally unexpected change in her life!

  Looking back on it afterwards, she couldn’t actually remember much about what else had gone on – only that she had said she’d be happy to grasp the opportunity she’d been offered, and to be ready to move within two weeks as soon as she had given her landlady notice.

  And Rex – swallowing his pride and disappointment, forced himself to be gracious in defeat – thanks partly to the promise of a big rise in pay, plus a generous dinner at the Grand Hotel with Mr. Pennington and Alice later that evening.

  On a Saturday morning a month later, with Gloria’s nuptials safely – and most happily – having taken place, and Alice leaving her office for the last time, Rex drove her and her belongings in the Ford eight to Dorchester. Being the big-hearted man that he was, he bore her no ill will that she was in the position he coveted, and said that it would give him pleasure to see her installed in her new home.

  Of course, they had both been to see the new office already – Alice from necessity and Rex from curiosity – and both agreed that it was in exactly the right place, being in the main shopping street, where there would be plenty of passers-by to glance in and see what property was on offer in the area. Another member of staff had already been advertised for in the local paper, and from the three applicants who’d responded, Alice’s clerical assistant was to be Miss Valerie Gates – a chirpy, pretty, dark-haired twenty-year-old who Alice knew would fit in. For the moment, there were to be only the two of them, so it was essential that they got on, and it had seemed so strange to Alice that it was she who had interviewed Valerie – she’d never interviewed anyone before. But Mr. Pennington had been there as well to show Alice the ropes, and it was obvious that Valerie could type perfectly well, and had an attractive voice and manner.

  Earlier, both Mr. Pennington and Alice had rooms booked for them at the King’s Arms Hotel for a few days while everything was being set up, and while the accommodation which had been rented for her could be prepared. This was a small, semi-detached house in one of the roads opposite the town’s Borough Gardens, and Alice had liked it the moment she’d been shown around. It was quite like Gloria’s house, with two bedrooms, box room, and bathroom upstairs, and a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen downstairs. And its situation would mean a lovely, leafy stroll to the office each morning. Alice could hardly believe that she was going to be living in a whole house, all to herself! The first time in her life! But Mr. Pennington had said that she would probably find it strange to be living alone for the first time, and in a strange town, and that it was essential she had room to have friends in, and to invite them to stay at weekends if she wanted to, to give her some company. Mr. Pennington had a daughter about the same age as Alice, and he wanted Alice to be happy…they were taking something of a risk – albeit a calculated risk – in offering such a young woman this opportunity, but they had every hope that her earlier success at shifting property would continue.

  The opening of the new branch on that late-October Saturday morning went well, with a lot of local interest generated by the town’s newspaper, which had sent along a photographer to take a picture of Mr. Pennington standing behind Alice and Valerie in the subtly lit office. There were already some properties advertised in the panels in the window – head office had done the necessary spade work beforehand – and some attractive, informative literature to hand out to the visitors who came in – in surprising numbers on that first Saturday. This may have been due to the fact that there was complimentary sherry and nibbles being handed out, but whatever the reason, at the end of the day Alice felt happily energized, knowing that she was going to like working here. All the locals seemed friendly and welcoming, and there were already one or two enquiries from people who would be looking for houses or flats in the near future. This was a new life for her, with new people, new opportunities, fresh hopes…in fact, it struck Alice as a kind of escape offered her at just the right time. She didn’t want to put the past behind her and forget it – how could she, with all the happiness she’d known – but it was going to be more like turning a corner and seeing different scenery. And she was going to make the most of it.

  By now, she was well installed in her new abode and beginning to find her way around the town. She had written to Helena, telling her where she was living and what she was doing. Helena’s reply came back almost by return.

  Clifton. 10th October 1945

  My dear Alice

  Well, what are we going to hear about you next! I was so pleased to have your news, and of the opportunity you have been given by the firm. They must think very well of you, my dear – and why should they not? In your young life you have proved yourself so adequate in all respects, that your employers must think themselves very lucky to have you in the fold! I speak from personal experience of your abilities!

  Dorchester is an absolutely delightful town, full of interest and history. Knowing you as I do, I am sure you have already done some investigating and will have plenty to tell us when next we meet.

  I was so sorry that you could not join the family at the Clifton get-together which I arranged some weeks ago, but I quite understood. You have had enough on your plate lately. I was interested to hear about Mrs. Hammond’s intended wedding, and I am sure it would have gone very well with you there helping to arrange thing
s.

  Isn’t it wonderful that peace, real peace is here at last. For so many, the last five years must have seemed endless. And soon it will be Christmas! You must promise to come home to Clifton and spend it with us, Alice. I think everyone is going to be here – even, apparently, my eldest son! What an unexpected treat! So do make sure they give you enough time off to spend a few days with us…it will be like old times!

  I am writing to Sam by this same post to let him know your new address…I am sure he will want to get in touch.

  God bless you, Alice. I will keep you, and your new venture, in my mind and heart.

  Helena

  The following weeks flew by for Alice, and the end of the year was approaching rapidly. There seemed so much to take in all at once – being independent and really on her own, in a town she wasn’t used to, and running the office and being in charge was actually more challenging than she might have thought. But she knew she was starting to build a successful business – and she was enjoying it, helped enormously by Valerie, who seemed to have wanted to take Alice under her wing and show her around the town. Valerie had never lived anywhere else but Dorchester.

  So several weekends, the two had wandered the streets together, with Valerie a fount of information on the local history. Alice was shown Max Gate, which had been Thomas Hardy’s old house. –his novel The Mayor of Casterbridge being inspired by the town, and she saw the county prison, and the assize courts where Judge Jeffreys – the “first baron Jeffreys of Wem” – had handed out his countless, brutally cruel sentences on the often innocent wretches in the dock – giving him the nickname “the Hanging Judge”. A more familiar name to Alice was Isambard Kingdom Brunel who had designed the Dorchester West railway station, and not far from the town, which became a favourite place of Alice’s to visit, was Maiden Castle – a wild and beautiful hill fort, the largest in England.

  One Sunday afternoon in early December, the two girls were out strolling when Valerie pointed to a house in the centre of the High Street.

  ‘D’you believe in ghosts, Alice?’ she said, and Alice turned to her in surprise.

  ‘Well…not exactly…’ she replied doubtfully. ‘But just because I haven’t actually seen one, it doesn’t mean they don’t exist…does it?’ She glanced at Valerie.‘Why, do you believe in them?’

  Valerie nodded. ‘I certainly do,’ she said. ‘Because that house there is haunted! Everyone knows about it, and plenty have heard stuff! It’s that Judge Jeffreys. Sometimes, In the night, you can hear him screaming in terror, and some say, remorse…in terrible agony over all the cruel, dreadful things he did in his life!’ Valerie shivered. ‘I tell you one thing, Alice, I wouldn’t spend a night there alone – not if you paid me a million pounds! And I wouldn’t walk past it on my own after dark, either!’

  Alice wished she hadn’t been told that. She wasn’t a particularly susceptible person, but she was prepared to believe that supernatural things did happen sometimes– and in certain circumstances – and this ancient town no doubt held plenty of dark secrets. Not least the trials of the Tolpuddle Martyrs. She and Valerie had been to Tolpuddle, and seen the monument. Well, those trials had taken place here, in Dorchester, hadn’t they, in the Shire Hall, and Alice could easily imagine that the victims might be heard screaming in fright as their sentences were handed down for founding the Friendly Society of Agricultural Labourers – the beginning of the Trade Union movement – and marching to London, to seek better conditions for the rural work force. The punishment for many was being sent to Australia, never to see their homes and families again. Surely it was possible that their frantic disbelief at such a sentence might result in them howling in horror? So it was certainly possible that Judge Jeffreys’s cries, too, still echoed through the walls and corners of the haunted house they were standing outside…

  Alice turned and walked quickly away, Valerie hurrying to catch up. ‘Let’s talk about something else, something nice,’ Alice said. ‘Like – what’s Father Christmas going to bring you this year, Valerie?’

  Valerie didn’t answer for a moment, then – sombrely – ‘Christmas isn’t going to be that nice for us this year, I’m afraid,’ she said, ‘because my brother has come back to live in the family home with my parents and me again.’

  Alice didn’t interrupt, waiting for Valerie to go on. ‘It’s…the war,’ the girl went on slowly. ‘My mum said no one’s to blame, not really, but the thing is…my sister-in-law – Joan – wants a divorce from my brother.’ There was a long pause, then – ‘They hadn’t seen each other for two years, because Ronnie was posted overseas, and while he was away, Joan found someone else. Said it just happened.’ Valerie sniffed. ‘It’s all very well my mum saying it’s no one’s fault, but it is…it’s Joan’s! It certainly wasn’t Ronnie’s fault that he wasn’t here, was it? It was the war’s fault! And I think it’s horrible of Joan to go off with someone else…they had a lovely wedding five years ago – I was one of the bridesmaids – and she made her marriage vows in front of us all in church! Now look what’s happened! And how could she do it? Ronnie’s such a lovely, caring person…and he adored her – probably still does.’

  Valerie was close to tears as she went on, and Alice said, ‘I’m so sorry to hear about that, Valerie…it’s awful for your brother, and for all of you. But…maybe it’ll all come right…maybe it’s just a flash in the pan.’

  ‘Some hopes,’ Valerie said moodily. ‘Apparently, she’s gone off with her new bloke on holiday, but when they come back she’s going to be living in the house she and Ronnie were renting…he says he can’t see her homeless – and her new beau’s wife and two kids are staying in their place of course…so, anyway, Ronnie’s having his old room at home…for the time being.’

  Valerie was obviously heart-broken at this turn of events, and Alice squeezed her arm. But what could she say? What was there to say? It would certainly not be a very happy Christmas for Valerie and her family…all thoughts turning to the past, and their hopes for the future…

  It was a bitterly cold, late afternoon, and the girls quickened their steps towards home. At least her Christmas looked a bit more promising.

  Because Fay and Eve were coming to stay! They were arriving by train on Boxing Day – having Christmas Day with their families first – then for three whole days they’d be in Dorchester!

  For the first time since leaving the farm, the three wise monkeys would be really together again!

  And, of course, it had been the perfect reason not to accept Helena’s invitation to spend the festive season with them all at Clifton. And as usual, Helena had quite understood that on their first Christmas in civvy street, it was natural that the three girls wanted to spend it together.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was almost the end of January, and 1946 had started with plenty of promise for the firm, Alice thought, as she checked the latest advertisements she was going to place in the window. After having been a bit slow at the end of last year, things were beginning to get moving, with spring soon on its way encouraging people to move on and make some changes in their lives.

  Alice glanced over at Valerie, who was typing up the specifications to add to the folders. It had been such a stroke of luck that Valerie had answered the job advert last year, because she was more than competent at what she was doing – and always cheerful, which was a real bonus. And Alice had really got to know her over Christmas – which had unexpectedly turned into quite a riot in the end.

  The first thing was that Rex had turned up on Christmas Eve with a present for Alice. She had decided to close at 2 o’clock – well, work was obviously very quiet – but Rex had shut the Bristol branch even earlier and driven all the way to Dorchester to see her. Alice admitted to being surprised – and quite pleased to see him when he opened the door and entered with a flourish, wearing a Father Christmas hood. He could be quite a laugh sometimes…

  Earlier, Valerie had bought some chocolate biscuits as a treat, and she’d lost no
time in making coffee for the three of them as soon as she’d been introduced to Rex. It became immediately clear to Alice that they liked each other straightaway – Valerie laughing heartily at Rex’s shaggy-dog stories – things which Alice had always had to grit her teeth over – and Rex lapping up Valerie’s obvious admiration of him. Rex knew how to turn on the charm, and it was Christmas…

  It was after the three of them had had a sandwich lunch together next door, and Rex was about to go back to Bristol, that Alice took pity on him. It was very kind of him to come all that way to see her, after all. Of course, he had plenty of friends, but he lived alone, and she realized he did have feelings for her – which she just could not return. But she could at least ask him to come back again before the end of the holiday – perhaps the day after Boxing Day – and spend it with her and Eve and Fay. She knew they’d be up for it. There was a good train service, so he didn’t need to use his precious petrol coupons, and the fact that she would be inviting him with others there as well wouldn’t give him the wrong idea. He could even stay the night, if he wanted to – downstairs on the settee. She had a really nice, spare eiderdown in the wardrobe.

  He hadn’t needed asking twice, and Alice smiled as she thought back on that festive holiday. The fact that her two best friends would soon be with her had made up for the fact that she’d actually spent Christmas Day on her own – giving her plenty of time to prepare for her visitors. And as soon as Fay and Eve arrived there’d been no stopping the reminiscing and laughing and going over and over their life on the farm. Looking back was even better than the actual thing, and they’d gone on talking until the early hours of that first full day together. Once or twice after the war had ended, and they’d gone back home, Fay had heard from Roger, and both Eve and Alice had written letters to Mabel who’d replied, saying that they were now on the telephone, and giving them their number. So Home Farm had cottoned on to the 20th century. But none of the girls had gone back to visit…well, they were busy working out their peace-time lives, and it had just not happened. Once the tide has gone out, there is usually little evidence of what had been there on the sand…