The Teashop Girls

by Elaine Everest

  ‘What the hell are you doing in here?’ he said, taking a step backwards. He recognized Mildred Dalrymple, and knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

  ‘I’m helping young Lily remove her property from this house. If you’ve got any sense, you’ll sit down and keep your mouth shut,’ Mildred said between gritted teeth, not taking her eyes from his. ‘I’ve heard things about you, George Jacobs, that I’m none too happy about.’

  George sat down a little fearfully. ‘I hope you ain’t taking anything that doesn’t belong to you,’ he said as Lily and Flora came down the stairs and stood beside Mildred.

  ‘I’m leaving more than I’m taking, so count yourself lucky. There is a letter going in the post to the landlord telling him I no longer want the house from the end of this week. The rent’s paid up to date, so it’s up to you to get in touch with him to find out about taking up the tenancy. I’m returning my key to him as well,’ Lily said, feeling brave because her friends were by her side.

  ‘Is there anything you need from down here?’ Flora asked.

  ‘No, I’ve got what I came for. Anything of Mum’s that was down here he’s either smashed or sold. Come on – let’s go.’ Lily opened the door and ushered them out. Turning back to her stepfather, she gave him a last cold look before leaving the house where she had been born and stepping bravely into her future. She did her best to ignore the flicker of disappointment she felt at not being able to comply with her mum’s last words and take care of her stepfather.

  Outside on the pavement, Flora made to go back to help Lily, but Mildred put out a hand to hold her back. ‘Let it be for now,’ she said. ‘We must make sure to be on hand if the girl needs a shoulder to cry on.’

  Flora nodded in agreement and did her best to force a smile onto her face as Lily joined them. ‘Come on – let’s get you home out of this cold. I don’t know about you, but I could do with something to eat. I have a few crumpets in the pantry. We could toast them by the fire.’

  Lily linked arms with Flora. ‘I can’t think of anything better.’

  Rose gazed in awe at her surroundings. She’d been speechless when Ben had taken her to Claridge’s to dine, but this exceeded her wildest dreams.

  To know that a waitress from Ramsgate was dining with the cream of society had been so frightening she could have fainted with the shock. At any moment she had expected those around her to guess she was an interloper and point at her, declaring she should not be there. Her worries had soon evaporated, though, when she found the waiters respectful and charming. Before too long she was at ease in the elegant surroundings, and it helped that she was sitting opposite the most handsome man in the room. They dined on roast duck and drank champagne. If only Katie and Lily could see her now, she’d thought as a delicate dish of peach ice cream set in a bowl of ice was placed in front of her.

  She had expected to go back to Ben’s flat after the meal, but no, he’d hailed a taxi and they had headed off into the night, stopping outside a club. They’d been shown to a table at the side of the dance floor as a band the size of an orchestra had gently played dance tunes, some of which she recognized and had in her record collection. This was nothing like Silvano’s band, she thought to herself as she sipped even more champagne and hummed along to the songs.

  ‘Thank you so much for treating me to such a wonderful evening,’ she said to Ben after they’d clapped at the end of the song. ‘It is a dream come true to be able to hear such a superb orchestra play the songs I’ve always longed to sing.’

  Ben, who had watched Rose close her eyes and sway to the tempo, could only agree. ‘I’ve never had the urge to sing with a band, but I can see the appeal in performing in front of an appreciative audience.’

  Rose looked again at the throng of people on the dance floor and answered. ‘They are an appreciative audience. I shall remember this night for the rest of my life while I’m running the teashop and living out my days in Thanet.’

  ‘Do you not have any dreams that will take you away from your home and job?’ he asked gently as he reached out and held her hand.

  ‘I’ve often dreamt of a different life. But nothing will come of it, especially now we are at war and must all do our bit.’

  ‘Tell me, Rose. I promise I won’t laugh or pull your leg,’ he prompted her.

  ‘Well, it’s this! My dream is in this room,’ she sighed, with her eyes sparkling.

  ‘To dance and dine in splendour?’ he asked, a little surprised. Somehow he had expected more of Rose than the other women he’d met, many of whom simply wanted the good life on the arm of a man who could afford to pamper their every whim.

  ‘Oh no,’ she gasped, looking shocked. ‘I’ve had a wonderful time with you this evening, but that’s not what I meant at all. In another lifetime I’d have sought out my dream to sing for my living, and tour the world with bands and orchestras such as this one. I so admire the singer Helen Forrest, and I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be able to entertain people and make them happy.’

  ‘That is a worthy dream. I can’t see what’s stopping you?’ he said as his thumb gently rubbed the palm of her hand.

  Rose laughed out loud. ‘Oh Ben, you have no idea how hard it would be to up sticks and follow my dream – although I did have an offer to do just that,’ she said with a gentle tease in her voice. ‘But it isn’t to be. I live in a world where I have responsibilities – and a good job to look forward to.’

  Ben ignored her talk of work and focused on the chance she’d missed to sing for a living. ‘You did – when was this? Why didn’t you take up the offer? I just know you would have been a success. I’ve only heard you sing the once, but you’re as good as Helen Forrest any day of the week.’

  ‘Ben, you were there when it happened, although you only saw the aftermath of my answer. It was Silvano offering me the chance to join his band as a singer. He was getting ready to tour with ENSA.’

  Ben recalled the rather seedy-looking man who’d fronted the band the evening he heard Rose sing. ‘Why did you say no?’

  She gave a deep sigh. ‘There were strings attached, and I’m not that kind of a girl. I know women who would have jumped at the chance, but it wasn’t for me.’

  Ben watched the sadness in her eyes and wished he could do something to cheer her up. ‘Let’s dance, shall we?’ he asked as the band struck up a lively foxtrot.

  Rose closed her eyes as Ben held her to him and steered her through the crowded dance floor. The gentle pressure of his hand on her back and the subtle scent of his cologne conjured up all kinds of feelings. She could have stayed there, on the dance floor in his arms, all evening. All too soon the music came to an end, and after joining in with the clapping they returned to their table. Ben replenished their champagne glasses.

  ‘I have to leave you for a few minutes,’ he said, leaning close so she could hear him above the chattering crowd before placing the briefest of kisses on her cheek.

  Rose sat in a dream as she looked around at the chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling and the opulent wall curtains that shut out the ugly world outside. She would cherish this evening for as long as she lived.

  When Ben returned he took her hand, encouraging her to stand. ‘I have someone I’d like you to meet,’ he said, leading her down the side of the dance floor to the edge of the stage. ‘Mr Ross, this is Rose Neville, the young lady I spoke to you about.’

  Fernando Ross turned to Rose and shook her hand. ‘My friend here tells me you are a singer, and have sung on stage with bands?’

  Rose nodded. It was a thrill to meet and be able to speak with such a grand person. Perhaps he would be able to give her a tip or two on how to improve her singing? ‘Yes, sir. Nothing as grand as yours, but I’ve sung since I was a child. My mother is always saying that I would perform at the drop of a hat,’ she said.

  ‘And your favourite singer is Helen Forrest?’

  Rose clasped her hands together in delight. ‘Oh yes, I’ve admired her for so lo
ng – I try to style my singing on hers. Have you met her?’

  ‘Many times,’ he answered, giving her a benevolent smile. ‘I wonder, would you like to sing for me?’

  ‘Me sing for you?’ Rose almost shrieked as her voice went up several octaves. ‘I would love to – but I’m only in London for a short while, and I have . . . some training to complete during the day,’ she confessed, not liking to say she was a Nippy.

  The conductor raised his hand to stop her excited chatter. ‘I mean right now, when my musicians have finished their break. Come with me and we will discuss the music,’ he said, leading her by the elbow to the rear of the stage where he started to go through a pile of sheet music.

  Rose, apart from feeling shocked at the speed of what was happening, felt a growing excitement building up inside her. She loved to sing, and this was an opportunity worth grabbing with both hands. Watching the titles on the sheets of music as he went through them, she caught his arm and said, ‘I know it’s not a dance tune but I’d love to sing this, if I may? It means something special to me – and I would think to many other people here this evening.’

  Fernando went over to have a word with his musicians and came back to Rose with a broad smile on his face. ‘Stay there, and I’ll introduce you after the next number.’

  Rose answered his smile with her own broad grin. She’d never felt so excited in her life. She watched as the musicians struck up a waltz and the dance floor filled with couples moving to the beautiful melody.

  All too soon it finished, and Fernando turned to the microphone and raised his hands to silence the enthusiastic dancers. Faces looked up to the stage, waiting to hear what he had to say. He got straight to the point. ‘For many here this evening, there is sadness as they are seeing off loved ones and may not be together again for a while. To sing you on your way, we have a very special guest: Miss Rose Neville.’ He turned to the side of the stage and started the applause as Rose hurried up a short flight of wooden steps onto the stage, waving to the crowd as she joined Fernando. He kissed her cheek in welcome and turned to the orchestra, raising his baton.

  Rose listened as the strains of music filled the room swaying slightly as the music reached her soul. She took a deep breath and holding the microphone stand she sang her heart out.

  ‘We’ll meet again . . .’

  She closed her eyes and imagined she was alone with Ben, singing the words only to him – hoping that when the blue skies did drive the dark clouds far away, she would see him once more. The words hurt her deeply, as she knew she was saying goodbye to him publicly before he went overseas. It was easier to sing what was in her heart than to tell him privately. They’d not known each other long enough for such intimate words.

  As the song came to an end and she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see not one person dancing. The crowd had come to the edge of the stage to listen, and as one they burst into spontaneous applause while Rose took a small bow. Fernando called her back to take another bow, and again he kissed her cheek. ‘Come and sing for me anytime you are in town,’ he said so only she could hear. Flushed with excitement, she whispered her thanks, her eyes seeking out Ben. The table where they’d been sitting was empty.

  Worrying where he could be, she hurried down the wooden steps from the stage and found him waiting there for her. Without uttering a word he pulled her into his arms and swung her round before setting her on her feet. ‘You were wonderful,’ he said gently before claiming her lips. When they broke apart he looked into her eyes. ‘I felt as though you were singing to me alone.’

  Rose waited for a few seconds until her heart stopped beating so fast. ‘I was . . . I was singing just for you,’ she murmured.

  Before they could speak again, Rose found herself surrounded by people congratulating her on her singing. A few of them thrust cards into her hand, which she put into the pocket of her dress. By the time they reached their table and sat down there was fresh champagne waiting for them in an ice bucket, compliments of the owner of the club. Rose drank the chilled liquid greedily, ignoring the bubbles as she quenched her thirst. She was already drunk on the excitement of her performance, and no amount of champagne could make any difference to her exuberance.

  It didn’t seem long before the last dance of the evening was announced and she fell into Ben’s arms, exhausted but happier than she’d ever felt before. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered close to his ear, as the main lights were lowered and a million lights glittered from a silver mirrored ball hanging from the ceiling. ‘Thank you for giving me such a wonderful evening. I don’t have the words to express how I feel.’

  ‘Seeing you so happy is the best gift I could have. It’s not every day a guy has his girl sing for him,’ he replied, his breath so close to her ear that it made her tingle from head to toe.

  His girl, she thought to herself with a contented sigh.

  Outside, the snow was still falling hard and fast and they could hardly see where the pavement ended and the road began. A doorman whistled for a taxi, holding an umbrella over their heads until they were safely inside and the door was closed. Ben gave the address to the driver and the vehicle pulled away into a stream of slow-moving traffic.

  ‘Oh dear, I hope the snow hasn’t damaged your mother’s lovely mink stole,’ Rose said, trying to brush the slow-melting flakes away.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Ben said as he put his arm around her. She snuggled close, the warmth of his body making her feel sleepy.

  ‘It was wonderful, wasn’t it?’ she said as her eyelids started to droop and she fell asleep. Ben smiled as she slept like a child in his arms. He knew he was beginning to fall in love with his beautiful Nippy, and that meant he would have to explain something to her before they became any closer . . .

  ‘Hey, come on, sleepyhead,’ he said a few minutes later, giving Rose a little shake. ‘We’re home.’

  Rose woke and rubbed her eyes. ‘My goodness, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,’ she apologized. ‘You must think me an absolute bore.’

  ‘Not at all. I could have dropped off myself, if I didn’t have to instruct the taxi driver,’ he said as the door was opened. He helped her out of the vehicle and led her carefully over the snowy pavements into the building, where the night porter was ready to take them in the lift to the top floor.

  Rose could only lean against Ben as he kept his arm around her waist. She wasn’t going to pull away, as her head felt rather light after an evening of dancing and sipping champagne, and she rather liked being close to him.

  Inside the flat, she went straight to the open fire that was glowing brightly after staff had been in to bank it up, while Ben put a record on the gramophone player before pouring two brandies into crystal glasses and handing her one.

  Rose started to protest that she wasn’t one to drink spirits, but one sip of the warming liquid changed her mind. Ben slipped the stole from her shoulders and placed it onto the back of an armchair before removing his dinner jacket.

  Rose was about to thank him again for taking her out for the evening when the record started to play on the gramophone. ‘Oh, it’s Helen Forrest singing “Deep Purple”,’ she said in delight. ‘I simply love this song, don’t you?’

  Ben slid a free arm around her waist. ‘I believe I love you more,’ he said as his lips came down on hers. She could taste the brandy on his lips as she returned his kisses until he pulled away and took her drink from her, placing both glasses on a small side table.

  Rose wanted to say that they hardly knew each other, and so much more – but her heart was ruling her head as she took the few steps and reached out for him.

  ‘I believe I love you too,’ she answered.

  Ben groaned as he lifted Rose in his arms and carried her to a nearby sofa where they continued to embrace, each kiss becoming more passionate than the last. All thoughts of what he had intended to tell her were completely forgotten.

  As the needle on the gramophone record crackled and bumped at the end of the
song, Ben leant back and took Rose’s face in her hands. ‘If I don’t stop now I can’t be responsible for my actions,’ he said, taking a deep breath.

  ‘I don’t want you to stop,’ Rose replied in a trembling voice.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m more than sure,’ she sighed, holding out her arms to him.

  ‘Miss Douglas, please pay attention. There’s a customer waiting to place his order,’ a sharp voice exclaimed, making Lily jump. ‘Clarissa Butterworth must have allowed these girls to run rings around her,’ her new manageress tittered provocatively to the man by her side. ‘Would you care to take tea in my office before you leave for your next appointment, Mr White?’

  ‘It would be my pleasure, Miss Roberts,’ Tom said, giving Lily a backward look and daring to wink at her.

  ‘Please, you must call me Dorothy now that we will be working so closely together,’ Miss Roberts’ shrill voice floated out to Lily as the office door closed.

  Lily closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. Tom White had been in and out of the teashop for the past few weeks, blowing hot and cold. She wished he didn’t lodge so close to the Ramsgate teashop, so she didn’t see him so often. Most of the time, he either gazed straight through her or gave her suggestive looks. Well, she wouldn’t stand for it. He’d treated her like dirt, and if rumours were to be believed, he had treated other Nippies in and around Thanet in exactly the same way. She just wished she’d known before she’d let him take advantage of her. If she said it to herself enough times, she thought, she might just start to believe that he had taken liberties with her. Deep down, though, she knew she had responded willingly to his suggestion of going back to his hotel room. There was a name for girls like that; and right now, if anyone found out, they’d be calling her the same name.