The Woolworths Girls

by Elaine Everest

  Sarah blushed. ‘Goodness, no. It’s nothing like that. I wouldn’t dream of asking such a thing,’ she stammered.

  Maisie hooted with laughter. ‘Don’t look so worried, you daft thing. I was ’aving a laugh with you.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’ Sarah smiled and took a deep breath before spilling out her thoughts. ‘I’ve got myself so worked up about this I didn’t realize you were joshing. The thing is . . . well, I wondered if there was a chance that you and David would ever get together. I know you are good friends and I didn’t want to tread on your toes.’ At last she had said what had been on her mind for the past few weeks since she’d met David. There had been some warmth between them, and although he had yet to kiss her, she knew she wouldn’t mind at all if he did. He’d reached for her hand in the cinema and his touch had thrilled her so much. However, if there was any chance at all that Maisie had designs on David, then she would back off and try not to feel disappointed. Her friendship with Maisie was worth too much to fall out over a man.

  The smile had left Maisie’s face as she listened to Sarah’s question. ‘David is a friend. Nothing more. I’m surprised you even felt the need to ask. It’s not a year since I lost Joe. I’m not sure I’ll ever love another person like I loved my Joe. Perhaps you should be asking yourself the same question, Sarah. Your Alan may not even be dead and you seem to have erased any memories you ’ave of him.’ She gave Sarah a withering look. ‘Don’t play games with David just because you’re unhappy. He means a lot to me and I don’t want to see him hurt.’

  ‘But it’s different for me. Your Joe loved you. Alan didn’t love me. Not in the end.’ Sarah was saddened that Maisie had been so sharp with her. Surely her friend knew how upset she had been that Alan had changed so much on his last visit home. It was still painful for her to think about last Christmas. Did Maisie expect her to be alone and never love again, just like Betty?

  Maisie picked up a magazine and opened it. ‘If you think that, then you’re a fool, Sarah Gilbert.’ She started to read her magazine. The conversation was at an end.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you back at work, Betty, even if it is for just a few days.’ Sarah beamed at her boss as she leant against the door frame of Betty’s old office. ‘You’ll see I’ve kept everything as it was before the accident.’

  ‘It wasn’t an accident, Sarah; it was enemy action that ended with many civilian deaths.’

  Sarah closed the door quickly, looking behind her to make sure no one was in the corridor and had heard Betty’s words. What happened at the Woolworths store was still shrouded in secrecy. No one spoke about it due to national security. ‘I know that, Betty, but don’t forget we have to be careful what we say,’ she said kindly.

  Two months on from the incident, Betty was still quite frail and having nightmares about what happened. Irene was taking good care of their friend, which had speeded up her recovery, but it would be a long time before she was the efficient Woolworths manager they all knew and loved. George and Irene had travelled up to Erith to join the family for Christmas and brought Betty with them. However much Betty insisted that she would prefer to move back into her own home, Irene intended to take her back to the West Country for another month of recovery. ‘You’re right, Sarah – I didn’t think about the consequences. I must really get myself back to work before I forget everything.’ She looked at the paperwork in front of her and ran her fingers through her hair distractedly. ‘I just don’t know where to start.’

  Sarah, who’d had her own nightmares about her boss turning up and finding her staff had been slacking, had made sure that everything that needed doing in Betty’s office was up to date and rubber-stamped. She realized that Betty was not yet ready to return to her full-time job but would humour her for now.

  Sarah looked at her watch. ‘Why don’t you come down to the shop floor for a while? There are bound to be customers who want to say hello, and we still have staff from the Bexleyheath branch working here. I’m sure they’d like a word with you. We are closing on time tonight, as it’s the tea party for the old soldiers. You know how much you enjoy playing the piano when we have a sing-song.’

  Betty visibly brightened. ‘I’d forgotten about the party. How strange it will be not to have Mr Benfield and so many of the old staff with us. Will Maureen Gilbert be joining us?’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘No, she’s staying with her sister for now. She can’t face Erith at the moment.’ Sarah didn’t add that she was relieved Maureen would be absent, as it reminded her so much of Alan and that was a part of her life she wished to forget. ‘Let’s get down to the shop floor, shall we? I’d also like your opinion on the window display.’ Sarah led Betty from the office and towards the stairs. ‘Do you recall the tinned snoek from last Christmas and how it tasted like rubber?’

  Betty laughed. ‘That wasn’t one of our best window displays, but it sold well. I didn’t stop to look when I came in, as the fog is starting to thicken.’

  ‘Let’s take a quick look now before it gets any worse. I hope we aren’t in for a pea-souper.’

  ‘At least it will keep the Luftwaffe away,’ Betty shuddered.

  ‘I don’t know about that. Vera from up the road was saying how sometimes the crane drivers at the docks work above the fog. Seems it sits like a blanket and above it the skies are clear.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but the pilots still need to know where they are going, and if they can only see fog, they could be heading in the wrong direction,’ Betty pointed out.

  Sarah wasn’t so sure it was as simple as that, but wasn’t prepared to argue. Besides, she liked to think of the Luftwaffe heading in the wrong direction and not being able to drop their bombs. This would at least allow them to sleep in their own beds over Christmas, rather than spend the festivities in the Anderson shelter. The Caseltons would need a second shelter to accommodate everyone at number thirteen.

  ‘This is delightful, Sarah. Well done. I particularly like the patriotic theme of red, white and blue on the little Christmas tree. Is it real?’

  ‘Yes. It’s Maureen’s, and as she wasn’t using it this year, we dug it up and planted it in a pot for the window,’ Sarah replied, delighted that her boss liked their Christmas display. ‘Can you see the chestnuts in the basket by the pretend open fire? We collected them from Frank’s Park in the autumn. Freda made the cardboard fireplace with help from the Girl Guide troop.’

  ‘It’s magical,’ Betty declared. ‘The stockings hanging above the fire – are they Maisie’s handiwork?’

  ‘Yes. We are going to donate them to the cottage hospital on Christmas Eve for the children who can’t go home for Christmas Day.’

  ‘Magnificent. I shall write to head office and let them know how creative the staff of the Erith branch have been. Now, tell me, is there any chance that Freda will be returning to work for us anytime soon?’

  Sarah opened the door for Betty and they returned inside the store. ‘I don’t think so. She sees it as her duty to the war effort.’

  ‘My goodness. That girl never stops doing war work. She’s an inspiration, what with the Girl Guides and the knitting she does to send out to the services. Look how she has shared her skills with all of us as well.’

  ‘Freda still pops in to help when I’m on fire-watch duty, and she will be with us tonight for the old soldiers’ party,’ Sarah added. She too was constantly amazed at her young friend’s stamina. She wasn’t even fazed recently when a Christmas card had arrived from her brother, Lenny. Although Lenny didn’t say where he was, both girls felt in their bones that he wasn’t far away, and Freda at least knew he was safe, even though he was still hiding from the gang he had lied for.

  Betty beamed as a customer recognized her and waved back across the store before adding, ‘Freda is truly a Woolworths girl.’

  The evening turned out to be a wonderful event. Even with the constant fear of bombing and thoughts of loved ones overseas, everyone pulled out all the stops to make it a memorable e
vening for the retired old soldiers. Sarah recognized many faces from the previous Woolies parties, and the men recognized her too. Some asked whether she was enjoying married life and she found a smile was easier than explaining about Alan. Irene and George were on babysitting duties and Ruby arrived accompanied by Maisie and David. All three rolled up their sleeves and joined in as a fish and chip supper was distributed. It had been Sarah’s idea not to have the usual sandwiches and cakes. Due to rationing, they would not have been able to put on the usual grand spread, but fish and chips were not only plentiful but easier to prepare by staff members, leaving others to continue with fire watch and entertaining the guests.

  Betty was soon seated behind the piano, accompanying Maisie as she belted out a rousing rendition of ‘Bless ’Em All’.

  As she finished her song, she grabbed Sarah by the hand and nodded to Betty, who started to play. After a faltering start Sarah soon lost her nervousness and sang. Around the room, the men put down their beer glasses and listened. Some were glassy-eyed and lost in memories as her sweet voice soared.

  ‘. . . and a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.’

  The men cheered, and those who were able to got to their feet and applauded Sarah. She felt her cheeks start to glow with embarrassment and was grateful to David when he swept her into his arms as Betty started to play a waltz. Around them, others joined in and the party continued.

  ‘I didn’t know you could sing like that,’ David said as he held her close.

  ‘I don’t often sing in public, but we have so few staff available to entertain the guests this year that it would have been churlish of me not to volunteer. We’ve had some lovely parties in years gone by.’

  ‘This one seems perfect to me,’ he said as he pulled her closer.

  It felt good to be in the arms of a handsome man. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being held and desired once more. She was oblivious to what was going on around her until the song finished and another started. Sarah froze, then pulled away from David.

  ‘Is there something wrong, Sarah?’ David asked, showing concern.

  Sarah could feel the blood pulsing through her body. If she wasn’t careful, she would faint.

  Around her, the old soldiers joined in with the song. ‘If you were the only girl in the world . . .’

  It felt like only yesterday that Alan had pulled her onto his knee and serenaded her with the same song, when in fact it had been two years ago – Christmas 1938, when the country was not yet at war and she was falling in love with Alan.

  ‘I’ll be all right. I just need some water. I feel rather hot.’ All Sarah wanted to do was run away from her memories. She needed to move on and forget that her dreams of living happily ever after with a man who loved her were not to be. She may have been in love, but she knew better now. Alan didn’t feel the same. He showed that only too well last Christmas. She would always be saddened that Georgina would not know her daddy, but perhaps one day there would be a man she could look to as her second parent. Forget Alan, she told herself; start a new life with Georgina. However, as much as she told herself to move on, the memories of her short, happy life with Alan just wouldn’t stop haunting her.

  David helped Sarah to a seat and returned with the drink she so desperately needed. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, after watching her sip the cool water.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him. ‘Why don’t you rescue Maisie from the old folk? I’m sure she would rather be dancing with you.’

  David didn’t need a second bidding and went to seek out Maisie, who was only too pleased to join him in a foxtrot round the staffroom floor.

  All too soon the evening came to an end. Maisie and David accompanied Woolies staff as they took their guests home. By this time the fog was thick, and aided by the blackout, it was almost impossible to see a hand in front of their faces. The staff intended to see every last man to his front door. Sarah stayed behind to help Ruby and Betty clear up the remains of the party. It was as she was sweeping the floor around the piano that Betty put down the sheet music and faced Sarah.

  ‘Sarah, I do hope you don’t mind me asking you a question.’

  ‘By all means, Betty. I don’t have any secrets.’

  Betty had a slight frown on her face and wouldn’t make eye contact with Sarah. She seemed worried. ‘Who is the man in the RAF uniform that you were dancing with?’

  Sarah smiled. ‘That’s David Carlisle. He was a cousin of Maisie’s husband, Joe. He will be joining us for dinner on Christmas Day. You’ll like him.’

  ‘I gather you like him, Sarah?’

  ‘Oh yes, he’s very nice. Nan likes him too. Even more since he delivered a hamper from his mother for us to celebrate Christmas in style.’

  ‘I’m sure he is a very pleasant young man. What I mean is, do you like him in a specific way?’

  Sarah felt her face grow warm. ‘If you mean, am I stepping out with him, then the answer is no. However, if he should ask me, my answer will be that I’d be only too happy to.’ She noticed Betty purse her lips into a thin line of disapproval. ‘I no longer have a husband and can do as I wish. David would make a very suitable daddy for Georgina and she is now my only concern.’

  Sarah flounced off to the cloakroom to find her coat, not allowing Betty to finish the conversation. From across the room Ruby raised her eyebrows in sympathy as she observed Betty Billington’s discomfort. Betty had asked the very question that was playing on her own mind. Sarah’s answer was not what she had wished to overhear.

  ‘I haven’t had a feed like that in a long while. You must have some good contacts, if you know what I mean?’ Vera winked at Ruby.

  Ruby bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that every morsel of food on my table was come by completely legit. If you thought that way, Vera, I’m surprised you even put one forkful of that goose in your mouth. David’s mother very kindly sent me a hamper and I for one am very grateful. Now, who wants custard on their pudding?’

  Vera slid her bowl forward. ‘So, David, are you and Maisie courting?’

  Maisie spluttered with laughter and grinned at David. ‘Gawd love you, Vera. David’s an old family friend. I’m sure he ain’t interested in someone like me. No, it’s our Sarah he’s taken a shine to.’

  A silence spread round the dining table. The only sound was Ruby spooning dollops of thick custard onto the bowls of plum pudding. ‘Look out for the silver thruppenny bits,’ she said, trying to break the ominous silence. ‘I don’t want anyone choking on ’em.’

  ‘Did you hear the announcement on the radio that we were not to use them nickel thruppenny bits, as they can kill us?’ Vera asked, her eyes like hawks as she surveyed those present. Something interesting was occurring and it was more important than any plum pudding or another slice of the tasty goose.

  ‘More likely to choke someone than poison them, Vera,’ George answered as he watched his daughter, who was looking down into her lap. ‘They are a fair chunk of metal. Now, Vera, did you go to church this morning?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I told the vicar that it didn’t seem right not having any church bells ringing on Christmas Day. I bet that Hitler allowed bells to ring in Germany.’ She snorted with disgust.

  Freda smiled at the older woman. ‘But, Vera, think how it would have frightened so many people if they’d heard the bells ringing out. They may have thought we were being invaded.’

  ‘I’m sure even Hitler observes Christmas and won’t send any planes over today,’ Vera said.

  ‘Even if he does, we can still enjoy Christmas in the Anderson shelter. Maisie helped me put up a few old decorations in there to make it look a bit more festive.’

  Irene, who had seated herself next to the handsome airman and was oblivious to the rising tension round the table, patted his arm possessively. ‘I know that if the opportunity was to arise, I would be more than proud to accept David into the family. Now, George, are you going to pour us all a drink so we can toast the King? It must be
almost time for his speech.’

  Sarah watched as her dad filled glasses and instructed Maisie on how to tune in the wireless. She could feel Vera’s eyes burning into her and knew that more than one person seated round the table was wondering what was going on in her life. She would not be ashamed of her growing friendship with David, whatever anyone thought.

  ‘. . . The future will be hard, but our feet are planted on the path of victory, and with the help of God we shall make our way to justice and to peace.’

  They all stood as the national anthem was played at the end of the King’s speech.

  George raised his glass as the last notes faded away. ‘To absent friends.’

  Ruby dabbed at her eyes and joined in the toast along with her family and friends. ‘That was a lovely speech.’

  ‘It’s all right for them up there in London in their posh palace. I bet they aren’t going short. They might have allowed us a few more ounces of tea and sugar for Christmas, but what they give with one hand they’ll be taking away with the other when they cut the meat ration in a couple of weeks’ time.’

  ‘But, Vera, that is the government, not the Royal Family, and besides, we can all manage if we try really hard.’

  Vera snorted. ‘You’ll believe anything they tell you, Ruby Caselton.’

  Sarah felt stifled. She needed some fresh air, not that the patchy fog outside was very fresh. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk, if that’s all right? I’ll help with the washing-up when I get back.’ Although she didn’t wish for company, she would feel bad if she didn’t at least ask if anyone wished to join her. ‘Who else feels like stretching their legs?’

  ‘I’ll get started on the clearing up,’ George replied. His leg wasn’t up for a long walk yet, but he could manage standing at the sink in the scullery. Ruby started to rise to her feet. ‘Sit yourself down, Mother, and have a rest. You’ve worked hard today to provide us with a feast. Why not open that bottle of port and have a glass or two with Vera and Irene?’

  ‘I won’t join you, if you don’t mind?’ Maisie said. ‘My feet still ache from working late yesterday. I know it was festive and fun, but I’m fair whacked still, and Betty is almost asleep in her chair as well.’