Carols at Woolworths Read online

  Carols at Woolworths

  Elaine Everest

  PAN BOOKS

  This book is dedicated to Christmas babies of all ages. We have the best time of the year to celebrate becoming a year older.

  Contents

  Prologue: December 1941

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Christmas at Woolworths

  Prologue

  December 1941

  Sarah licked dust from her lips and rubbed her eyes. Staring around as she straightened the tin helmet she wore over her shoulder-length chestnut hair when firewatching on the roof of the Woolworths store, she wondered when the all-clear would sound. ‘Please let it be soon,’ she prayed out loud, although no one was there to hear her.

  She could make out the drone of planes as they followed the Thames away from London and back to their homeland. Strong beams of light pierced the night sky, seeking out the enemy’s planes as the anti-aircraft guns pounded away relentlessly – trying to bring them down before they escaped and were able to return another day to bring destruction to Erith, the town on the south side of the River Thames she loved so much and had made her home.

  Pier Road was one of two main streets in the town, filled with shops of all sizes. Across the road she could see the department store known as Hedley Mitchell. She’d spent many happy times in the tea room with her friends, Maisie and Freda, and also in the second-hand department finding bits and pieces for her daughter, Georgina, that she’d never be able to afford new. At her mother-in-law’s home in nearby Crayford Road, hidden in the cupboard under the stairs, was a magnificent wooden stroller that Georgina would be able to toddle around in whilst rattling the carved animals strung across the front, which Sarah had painted in fresh, bright colours. She gazed up again, praying for the all-clear and hoping there would be no more planes that night, before checking the length of the roof and the shops next door to Woolworths. Thank goodness no incendiaries had been dropped this evening, but further up the road she could see a building ablaze and hear the bells of the fire engine as it set out from the fire station in Cross Street. She’d have to inform the staff and guests who were currently down in the cellar of the store not to head up Pier Road on their way home or they’d find their way blocked. Already the fire was taking hold and she thought it best to call Freda up to help keep an eye out for smouldering embers picked up by the brisk wind coming in from the river. Thank goodness there was an alleyway between the burning building and the terrace of shops linked to Woolworths. All the same, it paid to be vigilant.

  Looking down the road towards the wharf and the coal merchant’s, she was comforted to see only a damaged roof of the tobacconist’s shop at the corner where Pier Road met the high street. She hadn’t seen that damage before. She’d feared there would have been more damage after the recent air raids. A shout from across the road made Sarah turn as she spotted a staff member from Hedley Mitchell waving from the roof of the store. She was shouting loudly but Sarah had trouble hearing due to the clang of the bell from the fire engine and the ack-ack guns going hell-for-leather further down the river.

  ‘What did you say?’ she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth.

  ‘. . . Bomb . . . shop . . .’ The young woman pointed towards the end of the road.

  Sarah frowned. What was the girl trying to tell her? ‘I’m sorry,’ she shouted with all her might. ‘I can’t hear you . . .’

  At that moment the ack-ack guns were silenced and the fire engine reached its destination. ‘There’s a bomb . . . an unexploded bomb . . . It went through the roof of the tobacconist’s shop . . .’

  Chapter 1

  ‘Come on, Sarah. We’ll be the last to arrive if you don’t get a push on. You know I don’t like standing at the back of the room. I can never hear what’s being said,’ Ruby Caselton called from the hallway of number thirteen Alexandra Road, as she pulled on her coat and took a gas mask that was hanging on the polished oak hallstand.

  ‘I’m right behind you, Nan,’ her granddaughter said, as she appeared still holding a piece of toast. ‘I don’t want to waste one scrape of this butter. I can’t remember the last time I had anything tasty on my bread. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time we had proper bread either. That grey national bread is only fit for the pig bin. By the way, how did you come by this? There’s not been a hamper from Maisie’s in-laws for a while.’

  ‘Ask no questions . . .’ Ruby muttered, pulling on her woollen gloves and tucking a matching scarf up over her chin. She’d already covered her grey hair with a pretty floral scarf that had been a gift from Sarah’s mother on her last birthday.

  ‘Oh, Nan, not the black market again?’ Sarah sighed. Her nan could be extremely inventive when it came to putting food on the table and she’d stop at nothing to make sure her loved ones didn’t go without.

  ‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ Ruby replied, opening the front door. ‘Button up your coat or you’ll catch your death. It’s bloody freezing out here and still as dark as night. No one would think it was half past seven in the morning. Bloody daylight saving,’ she huffed, closing the gate behind them.

  Sarah tucked her arm through her nan’s as they set off on the short walk to Woolworths, in Erith’s Pier Road. ‘It’s early December, so even if we didn’t have to change the clocks by two hours it would still be dark. Apart from it being dark and blooming cold, why are you so grumpy this morning? It not like you, Nan.’

  Ruby shrugged her shoulders as they crossed Manor Road and headed past the Co-op. ‘I’m just fed up with this war and having to think about what to put on the table each day, let alone having to queue for it and make sure we’ve got enough coupons and the like. This bloody war’s been going on for over two years now and it’s time we sorted out Hitler once and for all.’

  Sarah felt awful. What with working at Woolworths and caring for her young daughter, Georgina, she worried that she was not always pulling her weight around the house. ‘We all feel the same, Nan. We just have to do our best and get on with it. Things could be worse but I promise to help you a bit more,’ she said, trying to cheer up Ruby, who was usually the life and soul of the family.

  Ruby nodded. ‘Don’t take no notice of me. I’ll be all right. I’m just feeling me age this morning.’ She didn’t add that a sense of foreboding had been sitting on her shoulders for the past few days and, try as she might, she couldn’t help but feel that something was about to happen to one of her extended family.

  ‘Gather round, ladies,’ said Woolworths store manager Betty Billington. ‘And gents,’ she added with a smile, as she looked to the two male staff members wearing brown warehouse overalls amongst a sea of women dressed in the long-sleeved burgundy uniform of the popular store F. W. Woolworth. Unlike the other female Woolworths staff, middle-aged Betty wore a smart tweed suit over a white blouse that was buttoned up to the throat. Her mid-brown hair with flecks of grey was worn in a severe bun at the nape of her neck. She may have held the important job of store manager in the riverside Kent town, but she still had a sparkle in her eye. ‘Thank you all for coming into work earlier than usual. Please, do take a cup of tea from the counter along with something to eat. I know some of you will have forgone your breakfast in order to get to work for this meeting.’

  ‘What’s it all about, Miss Billington?’ a young sales assistant asked, with a worried look on her face. ‘Someone said we was all getting the sack.’

  A ripple of laughter ra
n through the packed staffroom. Betty joined in with a smile. ‘Unless you know something I don’t, Mary, I’m afraid you are stuck with us until you are of an age to join the services.’

  ‘If they’ll have her,’ an elderly woman called out, which added to the mirth.

  Betty raised a hand for her staff to be quiet. It was so good to work amongst such companionable people, she thought, as she looked at her clipboard. ‘I called you all in early in order to discuss the store’s annual Christmas party for the old soldiers. I’m afraid that we aren’t able to hold the party as we usually do each Christmas and, as so many of you devote your time to helping our elderly friends each year, I wondered if you had any suggestions?’

  Sarah’s mother in-law, Maureen Gilbert, called out from behind the counter, where she was pouring hot tea into mugs. ‘Can we rent a charabanc and take the old boys to a show in London? There’s bound to be a musical or perhaps a pantomime they’d enjoy?’

  Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. ‘I did look into that idea when Freda suggested it,’ Betty said. ‘I’m afraid that without much in the way of funds, along with the number of London theatres closed due to bomb damage, it is out of the question. I must say, I’d have enjoyed a trip to see a show myself. Freda, can you look into arranging something for the staff in the spring? It will give us all something to look forward to.’

  Ruby’s lodger, Freda Smith, who was sitting at a table close to her boss, nodded in agreement and scribbled in a notebook. ‘Consider it done, Miss Billington. Perhaps we could arrange to start a social club fund and save a few pennies every week towards an outing?’

  Freda’s idea seemed popular and it took a few minutes for Betty to get her staff’s attention. ‘Excellent, Freda, I’ll leave that with you – but please keep me informed as I have a few fundraising ideas that may help, and I’ll speak to head office about a donation. However, this does not solve the problem of our annual party for the old soldiers. I’m at a loss what to suggest,’ she said, a worried frown appearing on her face.

  The door to the staffroom crashed open as Maisie Carlisle hurried in, still doing up the buttons on her smart maroon uniform. ‘Sorry I’m so late,’ she grinned at the assembled workers. ‘Me ’usband’s ’ome and we got up late.’ She winked at Betty.

  Sarah felt her face redden. As much as she loved her best friend, her language could be embarrassing at times.

  Betty ignored Maisie’s comment and indicated for the supervisor to take a seat next to Freda before quickly going over what had already been discussed. Maisie could be relied upon to come up with solutions to problems, even though they could be quirky at times.

  ‘’Ow about holding the party in a couple of weeks’ time and combining it with the retired staff members’ party?’ Maisie said at once, frowning at the room full of people. ‘Seems the right thing ter do to me. We should be able to organize it for then.’

  ‘Thank you, Maisie.’ Betty smiled as the pretty blonde woman accepted a mug of tea and dug into her pocket for her cigarettes. ‘I can’t believe we didn’t think of that. Two parties in one would be a good idea, although fitting everyone in may be a problem.’

  ‘Not really,’ Maisie said, in between sips of the hot tea. ‘Some of the old boys would ’ave popped their clogs since last year and we know for a fact some of our lot ’ave gone down to the country wiv their grandkids.’

  ‘My sister Trisha is expecting her first but I know she’ll still come along. She reckons she’s dying of boredom stuck at home,’ young Mary piped up helpfully.

  ‘Blimey Maisie, you don’t mince your words, do you?’ Ruby laughed from where she was helping Maureen by drying up cups and plates as well as checking that the toast wasn’t burning. ‘Although it’s a good idea and might even make things a bit easier, as we can just make a few more sandwiches and whatever else we can lay our hands on to feed them.’

  ‘I like your idea but how would our retired staff feel about sharing their get-together?’ Betty replied to the suggestions with a frown.

  Young Mary raised her hand. ‘My mum’s one of the old staff and she’s always telling me how she enjoyed helping at the Christmas party for the old soldiers. I’d think most of the old Woolies workers will know the men, won’t they?’

  Betty nodded her head. ‘You’ve made an excellent point, Mary. I’d forgotten how many years we’ve been organizing these events and that many generations of families have worked here. However, it doesn’t give us much time. We need to arrange gifts, entertainment and also the food. Woolworths pride ourselves on putting on a good spread and we shouldn’t let the war spoil things, should we?’

  There was a resounding ‘no’ from all present as the staff started to call out suggestions. Knitting warm scarves and gloves was suggested, although Betty could not see many being produced in such a short time.

  ‘Perhaps we could ask some of the other shops in the town to donate a gift,’ Sarah suggested. ‘I don’t mean for our retired staff members, but for the old soldiers. We are the only store that arranges such an event. We could but ask?’

  Betty thought for a minute. ‘That could work very well. I’ll word a letter to the suitable businesses today and let’s see what happens. Can I have some volunteers to help organize things?’ she asked, as a bell rang through the store, alerting staff that Woolworths would be opening its front doors to customers in ten minutes’ time. ‘Leave your names with Freda before you go downstairs, please,’ she added, as they filed from the room chatting to each other.

  ‘How did we do?’ Sarah asked as she sat down next to Freda. ‘Do we have enough volunteers?’

  Freda sighed. ‘The usual few, although to be fair many of the women have children to care for and can’t always get away to help like we can – or have people to take care of their children,’ she added quickly, knowing that Sarah had her daughter Georgina to care for.

  ‘That’s understandable, and many of them also do extra war work. I can’t think of any woman working at Woolworths who is idle when she isn’t on duty here.’

  ‘Do we have a problem?’ Betty asked, as she joined the girls.

  ‘You could say that,’ Maisie said, sliding Freda’s notebook across the table. ‘It’s the usual culprits who’ve signed up.’

  ‘Don’t forget that young Mary has put her name down as well,’ Freda added. ‘It doesn’t look so bad.’

  Betty sucked in her breath as she looked at the few names. ‘Oh well, I suppose we can cope.’

  ‘As long as we can prepare food, entertain and chat to our guests at the same time,’ Sarah said, thinking back to her first Woolies Christmas party in 1938, before war had been declared and things were so different. ‘Our colleagues just want to be at home with their loved ones and we can’t blame them for that.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry about getting the grub ready,’ Ruby said as she joined them, still wiping her hands on her pinny. ‘Maureen and me will see to that. Someone just needs to sort it out and we’ll do the rest.’

  ‘That’s a great weight off my shoulders, Mrs Caselton,’ Betty said, with a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you both; I’ll get onto head office and see what can be done. Let’s make this the best party ever. Who knows what next year will bring?’

  ‘Christmas 1941 is going to be very different. Will we even be here next year?’ Maureen said gloomily. ‘I’m not sure this bloody war will ever end.’

  Chapter 2

  ‘You look pleased with yourself. You’ve not stopped smiling this past week,’ Sarah said, as she joined her mate Maisie behind the crockery counter.

  Maisie counted change into a customer’s hand and thanked her before waiting until the woman had moved along the aisle to look at a display of gardening equipment. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything but I can’t keep it ter meself any longer. I think I’m expecting,’ she said, as a broad grin spread across her face.

  ‘You mean you haven’t told David?’ Sarah asked, giving her friend a quick hug and hoping no one had no
ticed.

  ‘As it goes I ’aven’t said a dickie bird to ’im yet. He’s been away working and I want it to be the right time when I tell ’im. I’m going to make it a surprise at Christmas. It’s not long to wait now. It’s been hard enough keeping it from me friends.’ She grinned. ‘I’m gonna let Freda know but let’s keep things to ourselves fer now? It might be unlucky. After all, I’ve only missed me monthlies a couple of times and been throwing up fer King and country. P’raps I’m just under the weather?’

  Sarah nodded. She could understand any woman’s reluctance to announce news like this too early. However, looking at her friend’s flushed face, she did have a certain glow about her, and the way her uniform appeared a little on the tight side suggested Maisie could be right. ‘You have only been married a few months, Maisie, so you could be wrong. Perhaps it’s the comfort eating? They do say that newlywed women tend to put on a few pounds.’

  Maisie rolled her eyes before snorting with laughter. ‘You don’t think I was as pure as driven snow when I walked up that aisle, do yer? Me and David want a baby so we haven’t hung about wiv our trying. Don’t forget, me dress wasn’t exactly white.’ She winked as she turned to serve another customer. ‘Yes, love, what can I do fer you?’

  Sarah had to smile to herself, although she was embarrassed. Would she ever stop blushing at her friend’s blunt words? Why, the first day they’d met, Maisie was full of talk about trying for a baby with her first husband, and she’d only known the woman for a matter of hours.

  ‘Sarah, why are you and Maisie serving customers? Are we short-staffed? I’d have thought there was enough work for my supervisors to do without them having to step behind the counters,’ Betty Billington said, as she approached the mahogany counter that matched all the others in the Woolworths store. The manager ran a tight ship and when the staff weren’t serving customers they were replenishing stock and tidying their goods. Cleaning staff kept the wooden floors shining and, if it weren’t for the criss-cross of tape on the bowed shop-front windows and glass doors, no one would think they were in the midst of a war. With only weeks left until Christmas, Woolworths had pulled out all the stops to offer as much stock as possible so that their customers could still have a jolly Christmas. There may not have been as much food about, but with a little more time spent making your own gifts and being thoughtful with presents, a good Christmas could still be had by one and all.