The Woolworths Girls Read online

  ‘Aw, Nan, do you think I would?’

  ‘No, I don’t, love, but you seem smitten with him, and love can make us do some silly things sometimes. Just take things slow. There’s no rush. You’re both only kids.’

  Sarah nodded as her nan spoke, but then she recalled Alfie’s words and wondered. Did her generation have the luxury of time to fall in love?

  ‘You really don’t have to help me, Sarah. I can get home on my own.’ Freda had looked worried when Sarah suggested helping her carry her small suitcase and the box of food that Ruby had thrust into her arms as she prepared to leave. Slices of chicken and ham with cold cooked potatoes and cabbage, which she just needed to fry up to make delicious bubble and squeak, as well as a couple of mince pies and a large slice of Ruby’s homemade Christmas cake.

  ‘I don’t mind. It’s nice to have a walk after eating so much today. Besides, you can’t carry this lot yourself. Here, give me the box to carry.’

  Freda passed the box over and they walked in companionable silence. The snow had not long stopped falling and seemed to glisten in the light from the street lamps. The world had a perfect silence about it as the two friends created fresh footprints in the virgin snow.

  Sarah looked up the ten steps to the shabby front door of a Victorian terraced house. At one time the street would have seen the wealthier inhabitants of Erith living under its roofs, but now many of the houses were home to multiple inhabitants or were lodging houses to the poorer population. As Freda pushed open the door, Sarah was hit by the smell of boiled cabbage, mixed with something she couldn’t quite distinguish. She tried not to wrinkle her nose in distaste in case her young friend noticed.

  Freda went to the bottom of the wide staircase. ‘It’s a bit of a climb, I’m afraid. I’m on the top floor.’

  They’d not gone halfway up the first flight of stairs when a voice boomed from behind them. A woman wearing a wraparound apron that had seen better days, with her hair in curlers, stood with her arms folded across her ample bosom glaring up at them. ‘Miss Smith, I’ll ask you not to take one more step up those stairs.’

  Freda frowned. ‘Good evening, Mrs Carter. Is there a problem?’

  Sarah held her breath, which was easy to do considering the cabbage smell had been joined by the acrid aroma of burnt onions wafting from an open door. Mrs Carter must live in the basement of the building, as she could see steps leading downwards. Was this the money-grabbing landlady whom Freda had mentioned, who charged her tenants for every small convenience that many took for granted? Perhaps Freda had not kept up with her rent. From the stern look on the woman’s face, this was something serious.

  ‘Yes, you could call it that. I understand you’ve not been staying in your room . . .’

  ‘I told you I was spending last night at my friend’s house in Alexandra Road, just in case you were worried by my absence.’

  Sarah doubted that the landlady was worried about any of her tenants.

  The woman huffed. ‘That’s as maybe, but I don’t expect to have to chase away male callers on your behalf.’ She pulled the collar of her blouse closer to her neck. ‘He was an unsavoury sort and I feared for my life.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Carter. I don’t know what you mean.’ Freda placed her suitcase on the step in front and leant across the banister to face her landlady head on.

  Mrs Carter was in full flow. ‘I was ready to call the police. I asked him if he wanted to rent a room, but he said he was just looking for you.’

  Sarah wondered if Mrs Carter would have been more welcoming to the stranger if he’d held out cash for a room. But who was looking for Freda?

  ‘He gave me such a scare. Strange, brooding sort. Scruffy, with a scar on his cheek. A bad lot, I’d say.’

  Freda went to take a step down the stairs but was blocked by Sarah standing behind her still holding the box of food. ‘A scar, you say? Where is he now?’

  Mrs Carter looked down her nose. ‘So you do know him? I’m surprised you associate with the likes of him. I sent him packing, of course. Told him I’d get my old man to call the coppers. That worried him. He soon took off after that.’

  Freda put her hand to her mouth, looking worried. ‘Did he say anything at all?’

  ‘I closed the door on him. I don’t want his sort over my threshold, and I’ll ask you to do the same. I don’t hold with the likes of him, so I don’t want you under my roof either.’

  Sarah felt it was time to speak up. This may have something to do with Freda not wanting to speak about her past life, but right now her friend needed support.

  ‘Miss Smith has a new place to live, Mrs Carter. In fact, we only returned to collect her belongings.’

  ‘Sarah?’ Freda looked bemused.

  ‘Come along, Freda – let’s go get your things.’ She handed the box to Mrs Carter. ‘Here is a gift for you. I hope it will be accepted in the spirit of the season.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not untimely, as it seems you may have burnt your supper.’

  ‘Well, I never,’ was all Mrs Carter could say as the two girls climbed the stairs together.

  Ruby gazed at the clear night sky through her kitchen window as she dried the last of the cups and saucers. It had been a good party considering they hadn’t planned to celebrate seeing in 1939. This time last year she’d not long buried her Eddie and wasn’t up to thinking much about the future. Now, with Sarah having made number thirteen her home, life was moving on, and that’s as it should be. She sighed thoughtfully as she turned the cups upside down on their matching saucers before placing them carefully on a shelf in the kitchen cabinet. The evening had been fun. She’d expected to feel sad thinking back to times gone by, but no, the young women had included her in their happiness, and yes, it was catching.

  Maisie had arrived with her husband. Ruby had seen him from afar as he’d grown up in Erith but had to admit he was nothing like his foul-mouthed mother. He liked a glass of beer, though, and had undoubtedly knocked back a few before he stepped over the threshold of number thirteen. Saying that, he was a quiet lad and only showed a spark when someone mentioned the chances of a war, at which point Ruby had got to her feet from her armchair and announced she was making herself a cup of tea and did anyone else want one. Even with their gas masks safely stored in the cupboard under the stairs, she didn’t want to think of what lay ahead. Let those politicians sort it out. That was their job. Hers was to make a home for her family.

  With young Freda now living under her roof, Ruby didn’t worry about the girl so much. She was welcome to stay as long as she wanted, although the girl kept saying she wouldn’t stay long and would continue to look for new digs. She was too young to be alone. Ruby made a mental note to give her a talking-to. It was a rum do when Sarah came home with Freda on Christmas night. The kid hadn’t wanted to talk much and was adamant the strange man was not something she wished to discuss. She’d tucked herself up in bed with a hot-water bottle but Ruby could hear Freda crying gently before she’d even closed the door.

  The world was going mad, but she’d ignore all of that and just concentrate on those who ventured under her roof. Time for everything else later.

  9

  ‘Sit yourself down, Alan. She won’t be long. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘Not for me, thanks, Mrs Caselton.’

  Ruby wiped her hands on her pinny and sat down opposite Alan. Her cheery face for once had no trace of a smile. ‘Now, lad, I’ll ask you this before Sarah gets herself downstairs. I don’t want her thinking I’m fussing over nothing.’

  Alan loosened the thick woollen scarf round his neck. He suddenly felt a little too warm. It was unusual to see Sarah’s nan so serious. The only sound in the room was that of coals settling in the grate and the ticking of the clock as he waited for Ruby to speak. He’d expected Sarah’s dad to ask about his intentions towards Sarah, not her nan.

  ‘Now, you might think me worrying when there’s no need, but it’s that contraption of yours out on the pavement. Is it
safe?’

  Alan relaxed. Early on a chilly March morning was not the time to have a conversation about his feelings towards Sarah. Anything else, he was more than happy to discuss. As his mother was always saying, there was a time and place for everything.

  ‘That’s no contraption, Mrs Caselton; that’s Bessie, the love of my life.’

  ‘Whatever you call it, lad, it looks none too safe to me, and there you are about to put my granddaughter on it and drive off God knows where.’

  ‘It’s as safe as houses. There’s no safer motorbike in the whole world,’ Alan said proudly. ‘I’ve tuned it to perfection and every part is tickety-boo.’

  ‘Well, you just make sure that you bring her back here in one piece. All I’ll say is you won’t get me on one of those contraptions. I’ll keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much.’

  ‘There’s no need to worry. I’d not do anything to harm a hair on Sarah’s head. She’s too precious to me to put her in danger.’

  Ruby’s stern face softened. She’d watched the young couple as they’d gradually got to know each other since Christmas. Alan’s mum, Maureen, had grown up with Sarah’s dad, George. The whole family were a hardworking, decent lot. ‘I know that, lad. It’s obvious to anyone who looks at the pair of you that you have something special. It makes my heart proud to know Sarah’s met a boy who’ll take care of her.’

  Alan felt his face start to go red. Sarah’s nan was a good sort. Even so, he was embarrassed to talk about his feelings to someone when he’d not yet discussed them with Sarah. He cleared his throat. ‘Mum and Dad did their courting on Bessie. I remember Dad always polishing and tinkering with her when I was a small kid.’

  ‘He was a good man, your dad, and taken far too soon. You’re a lot like him.’

  Alan grinned. ‘Do you think so? He died when I was ten and sometimes my memory isn’t that clear about him. I’m lucky so many people knew him.’

  Ruby patted his knee before rising to her feet. ‘There’s many that do, Alan, so rest assured you’ll never be short of a person around here who can tell you about your dad. Now, let me go shake that granddaughter of mine or it’ll be teatime before you even leave the house.’

  Ruby left Alan sitting by the coal fire and went to the foot of the steep staircase in the narrow hallway and bellowed up to a closed door, ‘Sarah, get yourself down here or I’m putting my coat on and going off with this boyfriend of yours for a jaunt. Freda, come down here as well before the teapot goes cold.’

  She glanced back over her shoulder to where Alan was looking thoughtfully into the fire, nervously clutching a pair of leather gauntlets. He seemed to have something on his mind. Ruby liked the boy. Sarah could do much worse than settle down with Alan, but not just yet. She’d only known him a short while and it was best that youngsters enjoyed themselves and had some fun before they thought about settling down with babies and the like. Yes, time for such things in the future, and hopefully not for a few years. Ruby preferred to think of her great-grandchildren not coming along just yet.

  ‘So where are you off to today?’ Freda asked as she peered at her face in Sarah’s dressing-table mirror, dabbing a touch of scarlet lipstick to her lips before pulling a face and scrubbing it off with her handkerchief. ‘It can’t be dancing with all that clobber you’re wearing.’

  Sarah pulled a second jumper over her head before leaning towards the mirror. ‘Budge up and pass me the lipstick. Alan’s taking me for a ride on his motorbike. I’m not sure I’m wearing the right clothes, but at least I’ll be warm.’ She pouted as she added a dab of red to her lips, pulling a couple of curls from the confines of a red beret that sat jauntily on her head. ‘That’ll have to do.’

  Freda gave her a sideways look. ‘You look good in anything. I looked like I’d been dragged through a hedge backwards after five minutes on Alan’s bike, and he’d only given me a ride round the block. So where are you going?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but he’s been going on about taking me somewhere special for ages. Now the snow has cleared, he said it was time. It’s the wrong time of the year to go to the coast, although I’ve hinted like hell. Dad has always told me about the trips he made to Margate and on the paddle steamer to Southend when he was a kid. I’d love to go when the weather’s a bit warmer.’

  Freda nodded. ‘Me too. Living in the Midlands, I’ve never been to the seaside. Let’s go when we have a day off in the summer, shall we?’

  ‘It’s a deal. We can take Nan with us for a treat. She’s been an absolute brick putting up with the pair of us.’

  ‘I wanted to talk to you about that.’ Freda suddenly seemed glum. ‘I’m going to look for new digs as soon as possible. Ruby’s been great taking me in since Christmas, but I don’t want to put on her too much. It’s best I move out and find somewhere else. Maisie said she’d ask around and find something for me.’

  Sarah sat on the edge of her bed looking downcast. ‘There’s no need. You’re not putting anyone out. Dad still has somewhere to sleep when he comes up to Erith to stay, and Nan says you’re good company. No one wants you to move out. Please don’t. It’s like having a sister to live with.’

  Freda almost gave in and agreed, but she knew that she couldn’t risk bringing trouble to Ruby’s doorstep. However much she had settled into day-to-day life in this riverside town, she had to remember she was here for a reason: she had to find her brother. Moving out was the best thing. ‘I won’t be that far away. After all, I’ve still got to get to work. Ay up, that’s your nan calling. You’d best get yourself downstairs or Alan won’t wait much longer and you won’t get to ride on his motorbike at all.’

  ‘I’m not sure I want to go now. I wasn’t much looking forward to it, and now you’ve sprung your news on me, I’d rather stay home.’

  Freda grinned and nudged her in the ribs. ‘Don’t be daft. Just hang on to Alan for dear life – you’ll be OK. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.’

  Sarah nudged her back. ‘Less of that, please!’ However, secretly she couldn’t think of anything better than being close to Alan. Unless it was being held in his arms while he kissed her. Of late his kisses had been more passionate, more demanding. Sarah knew he held back, but there were times she wondered what would happen next. She increasingly wanted to find out but knew that they would be letting down their families if anything came of their closeness. She sighed. Oh, to be married and be able to stay with Alan as his wife. She felt her cheeks redden at her thoughts and stood up to leave the room in case Freda noticed.

  ‘What do you plan to do on your day off?’

  Freda shrugged. ‘I might go and visit Maisie, see if she wants to go to the pictures. Her Joe’s working a long shift, so she’s stuck at home with her mother-in-law.’

  ‘Well, have a good time and tell Maisie I’ll see her at work tomorrow. I want to find out how she likes working in the china department.’ The three girls had been kept on at Woolworths after Christmas and the previous week had been given permanent duties in different parts of the store. Freda was kept busy on the household goods counter, while Sarah had been transferred to a counter selling books and stationery.

  Freda agreed that she would and kept quiet that the real reason she was visiting Maisie was to go to see a room that was advertised on a card in the newsagent’s window. Maisie would be able to check things out and wouldn’t let Freda be browbeaten into paying too much. She’d miss her cosy room in Ruby’s house, but she had to stick to the plans that she’d made back in December when she’d moved to Erith.

  ‘Are you warm enough?’

  Sarah nodded as she sipped the hot cocoa that Alan handed to her. She didn’t like to say that her cheeks were numb with cold and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to speak again. So much for the romantic notions she had of holding on to Alan as they drove through the Kent countryside. She felt as though every bone in her body ached from bumping over the stony roads, and her head buzzed from the roar of the bike engine. They’d stopped at
a small roadside cafe and Alan had left Sarah sitting beside a rather sad coal fire while he fetched their drinks.

  ‘We’re nearly there, but I thought you’d like a bite to eat before we reach our destination.’ He looked around the cafe, which was empty apart from a young woman, cigarette hanging from the side of her mouth, frying eggs behind the counter. ‘It’s nice here, isn’t it?’

  Sarah didn’t know what to say. It certainly wasn’t what she’d been expecting when Alan said he was taking her out for the day. She knew he was excited at showing her something of his life, but she still didn’t like this cafe. She decided not to answer just in case she said the wrong thing.

  ‘The place is usually buzzing with bike riders and cyclists, but I suppose it’s still a bit too cold for many of them to come out. I’m sure you’ll meet some of them another time,’ he grinned.

  Sarah groaned inwardly. There would be another time? ‘That will be nice,’ she said, just to be polite.

  The woman put a plate in front of them and Alan bit into his fried-egg sandwich with relish. ‘Tuck in. These are the best around. People ride miles for one of Milly’s egg sarnies.’

  She nibbled the sandwich, feeling the greasy fried egg moving around her mouth. It was hard to swallow. She held her breath and forced it down. ‘I’m not very hungry, Alan. Nan made us a big breakfast this morning.’ She slid the plate across the cracked oilcloth table cover. ‘Here, you eat it. It’s a shame to waste good food.’

  Alan took the plate and squirted brown sauce in between the slices of bread. ‘We’ll just have this and be on our way. We should be there by midday.’

  It can’t be the coast, then, Sarah thought to herself, although she couldn’t face the time it would take to reach the Kent coastline on the bike. ‘Where are we going?’

  Alan grinned. ‘All in good time. The only hints I’ll give you is that I’ve spent many a weekend there, and it was Dad who got me interested.’