The Teashop Girls

by Elaine Everest

  ‘That sounds good to me,’ Lily said. ‘Come on, Rose, grab the other end of this box and we’ll get it moved. I could do with something to eat.’

  The pair of them managed to move the heavy box across the landing to Flora’s bedroom, and almost dropped it by the bed. ‘I’ll go and get the other bits and pieces while you push this out of the way. I don’t feel right being in your mum’s bedroom – some things are private,’ Lily said, dashing off.

  Rose got down onto her knees and started to push the box under her mum’s bed. The large walnut bedstead with its iron frame was familiar to her, as she had hidden underneath it many times – and once, having caught her hair on the springs, had had to call for help from her mum, even though it was Flora she’d been hiding from. She gave the box a hefty push but found something was stopping it from sliding all the way under. Shuffling in beside the box, she found an old suitcase and grabbed the handle before wriggling back out, being careful not to snag her hair.

  Leaning back against the bed to catch her breath, she looked at the case beside her. Whatever could it be, and why was it tucked away so far back under Flora’s bed? It wasn’t the one they used on the odd occasion they travelled away from home. There was something inside, she could tell by the weight. Clicking open the metal catches, she found a small leather attaché case inside and pulled it out onto her lap. The smaller latches on this case refused to budge, and Rose was dismayed to find it was locked. Quickly shoving the larger case back under the bed with her box of books beside it, she got to her feet and sat on Flora’s bed, wondering where her mum would have kept the key. She was so curious to know what was inside that not for one moment did she think it was wrong to try and open the case. After all, they didn’t have any secrets.

  Rose looked around the room. The wardrobe was too high to be able to place a key on top, unless she’d used a chair to stand on. Her mum wasn’t keen on having her feet off the floor, as it made her dizzy. Hadn’t she said as much many times, when asking Rose to clean the downstairs windows? No, it would be somewhere close by . . . She checked the drawers in the tallboy, but found only clean clothes. Turning to the dressing table, she opened the two small drawers at each side of the mirror but found only a home-made necklace of shells that Rose had given to Flora one Christmas long ago, and a bundle of photographs in a fading envelope. Rose smiled. She’d seen these many times in the past when Flora had told her young daughter about a friend who’d worked in the music halls. The one long drawer had very little of interest, holding mainly handkerchiefs and scarves. She was just about to hold her hands up in defeat when she spotted a small china bowl with a domed lid. Decorated with a painted sea scene, it bore the inscription ‘Greetings from Ramsgate’ and was no different to the ones their guests had taken home as souvenirs in the days when Sea View accepted holidaymakers. Smiling at the thought her mum kept such a thing, she lifted the lid and pulled out a long chain. At the end of the chain was a key – a key small enough to fit the lock on the attaché case.

  Rose went back to the bed and sat down, unlocking the small case as fast as she could, such was her need to know what was inside. Pulling back the lid, she stared in dismay at the contents. Paperwork. After all that effort, all she could see was an envelope and a few sheets of paper. Lifting them out to look for anything of interest, she found a pretty brooch and a ring underneath. Why would her mum hide such things? Surely such pretty trinkets would have been worn on a special occasion – an occasion like Katie’s wedding? Absent-mindedly slipping the ring onto her finger, Rose looked briefly at the couple of sheets of paper before putting them to one side to read afterwards. That just left the envelope. She slid the single page of stiff white paper out, and started to read. As she did so, she felt her blood run cold. Surely this couldn’t be right?

  ‘You had no right to look into that case, let alone read my correspondence,’ Flora said from the open door.

  ‘And you had no right to keep such a thing from me,’ Rose spat back. ‘How could you, Mum, how could you? It states here that General Sykes is my father and he owned Sea View . . .’

  Flora went to take a step closer to Rose, but she shrank away. ‘After what I’ve read here, I don’t want you to get near me, let alone touch me. If what I’ve read is true – and going by the name on the letter heading, it seems to be true enough – how do I even know you are my real mother? All these years I’ve felt sorry for Katie because she’s an orphan, and I could be as alone in the world as she was. Just get away from me!’ Rose cried out as Flora reached out to her.

  ‘Darling . . . no good could come of you knowing, so that’s why I kept the past a secret.’

  Rose glanced to where the letter lay on the bed. The words and the embossed heading were ingrained in her mind – she knew she’d never forget that page of words, not if she lived to be a hundred years old.

  ‘Rose, let’s go downstairs and have a cup of tea in the kitchen. Everyone’s in the living room, so we can talk in peace.’

  Rose laughed out loud. ‘Tea? Is that your answer to this?’ she shouted back, pointing to the offending sheet of paper. ‘I’m sorry; it is too late for such niceties. I’m going to my room, and tomorrow morning, first thing, I’m leaving. And I don’t want to see you ever again,’ she cried, pushing past her mum to leave the room. Seeing the ring on her finger, she wrenched it off.

  ‘That was meant for you. I should have given it to you on your twenty-first birthday, but I was too afraid to rake up the past,’ Flora said. ‘Please take it now and let’s not have us fall out,’ she begged. ‘We only have each other.’

  A silence fell as Rose took several deep breaths to calm herself. She placed the ring on the green silk bedspread. ‘I can’t take it. Not at the moment. I need to think about what you’ve told me. General Sykes is my father? But he must have been so much older than you . . .’

  ‘Love is no judge of age,’ Flora said gently, kneeling down next to her daughter and trying to take her hand. ‘There is so much to explain.’

  Rose shook her head slowly. ‘Can we leave it for now, Mum? I feel as though my past life has been built on shifting sand. So much has changed and I can’t think straight. Perhaps another time, if I feel I can accept what you tell me,’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

  Flora looked at Rose, and felt as though she’d lost her daughter. Rose’s eyes had taken on a distant, sad look and her body shrank away from Flora as if she couldn’t accept what she’d found out.

  ‘I’m sorry I kept this from you, my love. I never meant to hurt you. I did love your dad.’

  ‘I do have one question. Where did you meet . . . the General?’ Rose couldn’t quite bear to call the lovely old man her father.

  ‘It was during the last war – when I worked in the music halls as a dancer,’ Flora said, knowing this too would be a shock for Rose. ‘He wanted so much more for you, but . . .’

  Rose backed away, shaking her head. ‘I can’t listen to any more of this. I’m going to bed, and I’ll be off to Margate first thing, as I have a lot to do. Mildred will be helping me to move, so there’s no need for you to come.’

  Flora knew then she’d lost her daughter as she watched Rose walk from the room and cross the hall to her own bedroom before locking the door. ‘What have I done?’ she asked herself. Sinking onto the bed, she put her face in her hands and allowed the tears she’d held back to fall.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help you settle in?’ Mildred asked as she looked around the large living room. ‘I must say, you have a lovely place here,’ she added, looking at the pale-faced young woman. She was no fool, and had noticed something was amiss between Rose and her mother.

  Rose wanted nothing better than to say yes and have the company of the much-loved older woman. Mildred could be relied upon to cheer her up whatever had happened, but she wasn’t ready to have the plain-speaking woman tell her to kiss and make up with her mum once she explained why they’d fallen out. Deep in her heart Ro
se knew she should be sitting down and listening to what Flora had to say; but today, still deep in shock at finding out her father wasn’t who she thought he was, she just couldn’t take any more surprises. That’ll teach me to poke about in Mum’s belongings, she chided herself. She’d been awake most of the night, going over what had been said and trying to make sense of it all. Having finally dropped off to sleep at daybreak, she’d woken to a knock on her bedroom door.

  ‘Rose, there’s some breakfast on the table for you,’ Lily had called loudly. ‘I’ve got to go to work now. Good luck with the move, and sorry I couldn’t be about to help.’

  ‘Please tell Mum I’m not hungry,’ she replied, and pulled the covers back over her head.

  ‘A penny for them?’ Mildred said now, pulling Rose back to the present.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mildred. My head is all over the place, what with moving and starting the new job tomorrow,’ Rose said, hurrying over and giving her friend a big hug. ‘I can’t thank you enough for helping me today. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

  Mildred’s face turned red. She wasn’t one for compliments. ‘I’d do the same for anyone at Sea View. Now, shall I put the kettle on while you sort out some of these boxes, or would you rather I pushed off and left you to it?’

  ‘I do need to visit the teashop. Mr Grant will be there, and he said he’d show me around. With their manager leaving to join up sooner than expected, they’re a ship without a rudder just now.’

  Mildred grinned. Any reference to the sea, and she was happy; Rose using one of her favourite sayings made her smile. ‘Then I suggest you scoot off down there, and I’ll unpack your bits and pieces and make up the bed.’

  ‘Do you mind? It would be such a great help to me. I’ll pick up some food while I’m there, and we can celebrate my new home. I promise I won’t be long,’ Rose said, grabbing her coat and hurrying out of the door after giving Mildred a quick peck on the cheek.

  Mildred set to making up the bed with the lavender-fragranced sheets Flora had packed for her daughter. She found an airing cupboard, where she placed another two sets and a spare blanket followed by towels and a tablecloth. She was aware that there was a frostiness between mother and daughter, but whatever had caused this rift, Flora had still provided Rose with everything she needed to set up a cosy home.

  The first-floor flat was set over a shop only a couple of hundred yards down the road from the Margate teashop. The landlord had left basic furniture, and the linoleum-covered floor and heavy drapes at the tall windows were of good quality. ‘Lyons have done her proud,’ Mildred muttered out loud as she placed the empty sack that had held the bedding by the door ready to take back to her van, which was parked out in the street. She stopped to look out of the middle window at the scene below. People were scurrying along the street, taking care not to slide on the slushy pavements. Snow had stopped falling, but the sky was still a steel grey in colour. Out at sea, she could see a large navy vessel the same colour as the sky. As it was late morning the fishing boats were mainly back in the harbour. Her own small boat, the Saucy Milly, was moored at Ramsgate, where she’d left her one deck hand with a list of chores. She tried to ignore a group of soldiers who were rolling out barbed wire and placing sandbags around a gun emplacement. With such a grey scene, her mood dropped. What was to become of them here on the Kent coast? She’d been born not far from here, in the seaside town of Broadstairs, and it was a worry that this small clutch of villages, towns and farms based on the island of Thanet could be at risk from the enemy only twenty-odd miles across the English Channel. ‘We’ll beat the buggers,’ she said out loud as she tucked a box of Rose’s childhood toys under one arm and lifted her suitcase to take into the bedroom so Rose could unpack later. She’d spotted a mop, bucket and other cleaning items in the small kitchen, so she’d give the flat a quick going-over as a surprise for when young Rose came back to her new home.

  Rose had a spring in her step as she left the flat to head down the staircase and out into the street behind the shops. It was so good of Mildred to stay so she could go to the teashop and see her new domain. She’d already been there once with Lily and Katie for tea, when Mr Grant first offered her the position of manager; but she had kept her head down, not mentioning her impending promotion, so that she could watch how the shop was ticking over. However, today she would be crossing the threshold as the new manageress and, with that in mind, she had worn a smart navy woollen dress in order to look the part. In her suitcase were two new suits provided by Lyons, and she had also purchased a tweed skirt and white blouse while in London. She was reminded of the General telling her that ‘clothes maketh the man,’ and at that moment she knew exactly what he meant. She didn’t wish for her new staff to think her posh or a snob, but she was aware she had to remain a little apart from them in order to maintain her authority.

  Entering the teashop, she was pleased to see that business was brisk despite the dismal weather. The office was set back a little from the front of the shop, where, as in most Lyons teashops, there was a counter where the Sallys sold their goods. Rose was a little dismayed to see that a Nippy was helping out there, rather than covering her group of tables.

  ‘Ah, Miss Neville,’ Mr Grant said as he spotted her. ‘Welcome. Come this way and I’ll go through the outstanding paperwork with you before we look around the teashop.’

  Rose was aware of glances from the Nippies as she followed him into the office. The paperwork had been kept in order, and as her training at head office had been thorough, there was nothing that she needed to enquire about in that department. ‘I wondered about staff. Are we short of Sallys at the moment? I only ask as I spotted a Nippy serving behind the counter.’

  ‘Hmm, yes – we have had two of our Sallys leave recently, which means you will have to contact head office and ask for new staff to be allocated to this branch. It may be a while, but not to worry – I’m sure you will handle the situation. I’ve heard good things about you from our trainers at head office. Now, we do have a small problem. I’ve been informed that the wrong order of loaves has been sent to us. Whatever can we do with one hundred extra loaves of bread?’

  Rose thought for a moment before speaking. ‘Leave this with me, Mr Grant. I’ll have the kitchen staff prepare bread pudding as well as individual dishes of bread-and-butter puddings. Perhaps we could have some sent over to the Ramsgate branch?’ I’ll also have the staff take a loaf each home as well, she thought to herself, knowing that this would start her off on the right foot with all of them.

  ‘Excellent, Miss Neville; you have certainly come up with a good idea. When this afternoon’s delivery van arrives, have them take the food over to Ramsgate.’ Mr Grant checked his watch. ‘I will have to leave shortly, but I’ll be back in a few days. Perhaps we could lunch together to discuss how you find your shop and staff?’

  ‘Thank you,’ was all Rose could think to say. How strange that only a month ago she had been one of the Nippies, and he would have been snapping his fingers at her to bring him more tea. As if on cue, he waved through the door at a passing Nippy and made that exact demand.

  My life is changing more than I ever expected, she thought to herself.

  11

  May 25th 1940

  Rose looked at the eager faces of her team of Nippies. After only a few months, she was proud of how she’d whipped the group of women into shape. Each one looked smart and was keen to work hard for the company.

  ‘Ellen, would you please stand in on the front counter this morning? We are still short of a Sally. I’m hoping to hear from head office about a replacement very soon. Dora and Jean – as it is going to be a warm day, I suggest you guide customers up to the terrace for afternoon tea unless the air becomes too bracing. I have some paperwork to do before I get on with anything else, as Mr Grant arrives for his monthly inspection today. Please be vigilant and let us show him we have the best Lyons teashop on Thanet, shall we?’

  The Nippies grinned enthusia
stically and went about their duties as Rose retired to her small office at the back of the teashop. The room may have been small, but Rose had gone through it with a fine-toothed comb so that she could lay her hands on what was required without digging through piles of old files and paperwork. There was a pleasing smell of lavender-perfumed polish in the room, and she sighed with pleasure as she sat behind the polished oak desk and started to open the small pile of letters in front of her. Good, she thought to herself as a small missive from Orchard House informed her that a newly trained Sally would be starting work shortly and had been instructed to be at the teashop today at ten o’clock to meet her. She turned the paper over, but there was no mention of a name. ‘That’s a good start,’ she muttered as she worked through the envelopes, making a note where necessary and pulling out folders to check figures for the stock sheets and order forms. She would need to hand those over when she had her meeting with Mr Grant and the salesman, Tom White, who she saw more often as he visited the teashop every few days and mainly got under her feet. Fresh food and shop stock still came down from head office, but paperwork had to be completed properly – otherwise they could end up short of tea, or have too many teacakes if the wrong box was ticked. She automatically thought back to how she’d rectified the problem of the wrong delivery of loaves on her first day in Margate and gave a big grin, thanking God that her quick thinking had impressed Mr Grant.

  Rose worked on, aiming to have her desk cleared before the second post and long before Mr Grant arrived. She would then be able to devote her time to what he had to say without worrying about clearing her workload. A knock on the door had one of the Nippies bringing in a tray upon which was a small teapot and a plate with a toasted teacake.