The Woolworths Girls (8 page)

Freda didn’t like this part of Erith. It was a world away from where Sarah lived in Alexandra Road and the streets in the busy town, with their many shops and people going about their business. It had taken a little while to find out where the Ship public house was in Erith, as Freda didn’t want her new friends to know why she was looking for the pub. She would then have to explain about Lenny, and for now she wanted to keep the reason she’d travelled south a secret. It was the local newspaper that gave her a clue as to the whereabouts of the pub, as there had been a report of a violent fight and a man being stabbed. The pub was in West Street, down by the side of the river.

Freda stepped over the threshold of the pub and headed towards the bar. The air hung heavy with the smell of cigarettes and beer. She wrinkled her nose; it reminded her of the pubs back home. Trying not to look around, as she didn’t wish to draw attention to herself, Freda wondered what to do next. She was aware that women who frequented some public houses by the docks did so for a reason. She did not wish to be mistaken for one of those women.

Noticing an elderly woman behind the bar, she waved discreetly for her attention. ‘Excuse me. I wonder if you can help . . .’

The women sucked on a cigarette and looked Freda up and down. ‘Depends what you want.’

‘I’m looking for a man named Jed Jones. I believe he may be the landlord’s son.’

‘He might be. What do you want him for?’

‘My brother, Lenny, was in . . . He was with Jed for a while. I need to get in touch with my brother.’

The woman didn’t say a word but stared for some time before reaching for a scrap of paper from under the counter. ‘If I see ’im, I’ll say you was ’ere. Write yer address down and I’ll see if I can pass it on. I’m not promising, mind.’

Freda quickly scribbled down the address of her lodgings and handed the piece of paper back to the woman, who tucked it into her pocket. ‘Thank you,’ Freda whispered, almost too scared to speak.

The woman nodded and turned away. Freda fled from the pub and hurried back to the safety of Woolworths and her new friends.

The lead-up to Christmas was busy in the shop. Sarah didn’t get a chance to speak much to Maisie and Freda, let alone Alan. She’d thought that after the Christmas party they’d have been closer in some way, but it didn’t appear to be the case. While working hard, serving queues of shoppers, wrapping purchases and advising on the best products to give as gifts, Sarah kept an eye out for Alan. When she did spot him, he was struggling under boxes of goods or pushing heavy trolleys through the store so that counters were fully stocked. Occasionally he accompanied Mr Benfield or one of the senior assistants as they removed cash from the tills. It was while he was assisting with the collection of cash that he finally spoke to Sarah.

‘I’ve been hoping to catch you.’

After days of wondering whether Alan’s kiss had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, and questioning her feelings towards him, Sarah wasn’t sure what he was about to say and bowed her head so as not to look him in the eye. If he apologized for kissing her, she would cry. She knew she would.

‘Hey, there’s no need to look as though I’m about to bite you,’ Alan said, taking hold of her hand beneath the highly polished mahogany counter they were standing behind.

‘I thought . . . Well . . .’

‘Go on. You can tell me,’ he urged, a worried frown on his face.

Sarah gulped. This was silly. If Alan was leading her on, then she shouldn’t let him hold her hand like he was at this moment. She pulled away, but he was holding too tightly.

‘Is there something wrong, Sarah?’

‘After not seeing you to speak to, I thought you didn’t like me anymore.’ There, she’d said it. If he laughed at her words, she’d know the truth. It would break her heart, but at least she’d know.

Alan did laugh. ‘You silly thing. Like you? Sixpenny, I “like you” to distraction. Every time I’m on the shop floor I can’t concentrate on anything, as I’m too busy trying to catch a glimpse of you. I almost ran someone down with the sack barrow when I spotted you yesterday.’

It was Sarah’s turn to laugh.

‘Look, it’s hell working here at this time of the year. When I finish work, I’m exhausted and fall into my bed. You must feel the same?’

Sarah nodded. Alan was right.

‘Let’s get Christmas out the way and then see how things go, eh? Don’t forget we work late tomorrow for the old soldiers to come shopping. Some of them were too old to serve in the last war, would you believe? But the stories they tell! It’s always a good evening. More fun than work, and we will get to have a sing-song and some food in the staffroom. Have you volunteered to help?’

‘We didn’t have much choice. Miss Billington gave us all one of her stares when she came round with her clipboard asking for volunteers. Not that I don’t want to help,’ Sarah added quickly, in case he thought she was a bad sport.

She’d looked forward to helping out at the annual event. It was always held the night before Christmas Eve, and from what the other girls had said, was such fun that it carried them through the very busy last shopping day before Christmas. There would be a gift for every guest and food laid out in the staff canteen. She was told that there’d even be a piano brought in for the evening, as well as a barrel of beer so they could entertain the old soldiers and raise a glass of cheer in the spirit of the season. First, though, staff would each accompany one of the elderly guests as they made their small purchases in the shop. Sarah and Maisie were to be paired together to assist a man in a wheelchair. Sarah was looking forward to the evening. It would make a nice change.

‘Mr Gilbert, may we have your attention, please? Miss Caselton, you have customers waiting.’

Sarah and Alan both jumped. Caught up in the moment, both had forgotten their duties until a senior colleague had called their names.

Alan squeezed her hand before letting it drop to her side. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Sarah nodded and turned with a smile to the queue that had formed on the other side of the counter. Surely her worries about Alan were unfounded? Her heart skipped a beat as she imagined him once more holding her hand and standing close.

‘May I help you, madam?’

The rest of the shift rushed by. Sarah, her head in the clouds as she thought of Alan, couldn’t even come down to earth when the grumpiest shoppers tried their utmost to upset her. She hurried home in order to be able to wash her hair and make sure she had ladder-free stockings for the next day. Although all staff had to wear their uniforms during the evening, she wanted to look clean and presentable, even after a full day on the shop floor.

7

The day of the party for the old soldiers dawned bright, although there was still snow on the ground. She’d heard that the men would be collected by staff to ensure they would be at Woolworths as the doors closed to the other shoppers at half past five. They would be able to browse the shelves with help from staff before enjoying their tea party.

During her midday break Sarah was summoned to Miss Billington’s office. She looked around her as she stepped into the room. Rows of box files covered the shelves, each labelled with neat handwriting. Paperwork was stacked tidily in wire trays on the desk, and next to them a row of pencils, each sharpened to a point, were lined up ready to be used. Miss Billington certainly ran a tight ship.

‘Take a seat, Sarah. I don’t wish to take up too much of your lunch hour. I just wanted a quick word with you to ask if you were happy working for F. W. Woolworth.’

Sarah frowned. Had their colleague reported her and Alan because of the few minutes they had held hands while on duty the previous day? ‘I’m very happy here, Miss Billington. I hope I haven’t given cause for complaint?’ She chewed her lip nervously as Miss Billington looked at a sheet of paper on the desk in front of her. To be denied a permanent job now would be awful. Not being able to work alongside Maisie and Freda, and not having the chance to see Alan each day, would break her heart. She knew that Alan still hadn’t asked her out, but to miss the thrill of seeing him around the shop, the anticipation of a few snatched words, the touch of his hand, a smile or a cheeky wink was simply unbearable. Perhaps if she begged, Miss Billington would change her mind. But what could she say?

Miss Billington cleared her throat. ‘I know I said that you were on probation until January, but I’ve reason to change my mind.’

Sarah closed her eyes and clenched her fists in anticipation of being sent away without a job and without seeing Alan again.

‘Sarah, I’m more than happy with your work, to the point that I feel you have the makings, in time, of a supervisor. You are already aware that I’m arranging uniforms for the probationers in January, but I wanted to have a quiet word about your future with Woolworths.’

Sarah gasped. From expecting to be given her cards to being told that management were happy with her work had taken her breath away. She was determined to show she was worthy of Miss Billington’s trust in her. ‘Thank you. I promise I’ll do my best to make you proud of me.’

Miss Billington smiled and checked her watch. ‘I’m sure you will, Sarah. I have faith in you. Now, finish your lunch and get back to your counter before we have queues running the length of the shop. I don’t need to tell you that this is the busiest time of the year and we in the Erith branch of F. W. Woolworth pride ourselves on our service to our customers.’

‘I will, Miss Billington. Thank you, oh thank you.’ Sarah rushed from the room and was halfway to the shop floor before she remembered she had left her handbag in the staffroom, along with her half-eaten lunch. Turning quickly, while chiding herself for her stupidity, she bumped into Maisie.

‘Whoa, watch where you’re going!’ Maisie said, grabbing Sarah’s shoulders to slow her down.

‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.’

‘You look all of a fluster, love. Not been in the store cupboard sharing kisses with that Alan, have you?’

Sarah blushed. Maisie certainly had a way of saying things. ‘Goodness, no. I was called in to see Miss Billington and forgot where I was going when I came out of her office, that’s all.’

Maisie nudged her with her elbow. ‘I’m only kidding you. Mind you, I bet you wouldn’t say no if he asked you. I saw the way you were dancing together at the party. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.’

‘I do like him.’

‘And it’s obvious he likes you.’ Maisie linked her arm through her chum’s. ‘Now, where are we heading?’

‘I’m going to the staffroom to finish my sandwich and then I’m back on the shop floor.’

‘I’ll come with you. I’ve got time for a quick cuppa.’

The girls headed for the staffroom and found Freda already sitting at the table that Sarah had vacated earlier. She held up Sarah’s handbag. ‘I thought you’d be back. You forgot this. I’ve got you a fresh cup of tea as well. Yours was stone cold. Want one, Maisie?’

‘I’ll get me own. You start cross-examining this one here. There must be a reason she looks like the cat what got the cream.’

Sarah giggled. ‘I am quite excited.’

‘Go on, do tell,’ Freda begged. ‘Is it to do with Alan?’

‘Not you as well. I’ve had Maisie making all sorts of suggestions. He hasn’t even asked me out.’

‘He will,’ Freda said with certainty. ‘His mum reckons he will as well.’

Sarah glanced over to where Maureen Gilbert was serving Maisie her tea. ‘I didn’t realize I was the subject of everyone’s conversations.’

Freda looked hurt. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean any harm by it. I like Alan. Your nan does too.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. I like Alan too.’

The girls giggled as Maisie joined them, balancing her cup and saucer in one hand and a plate with slices of tart in the other.

‘What’s that?’ Freda asked, peering closely at the pastry-based confection with its creamy-brown filling.

‘Gypsy tart. It’s a Kentish cake. You’ll love it,’ Sarah said, passing Freda a slice.

Freda bit into the sweet filling, wiping the crumbs from her lips. ‘It’s delicious,’ she declared. ‘We have nothing like this where I come from.’

‘There’ll be plenty more of it. It’s Maureen’s speciality, along with bread pudding, from what I’ve been told,’ Maisie said, sitting down at the table and pulling out her cigarettes. ‘So come on, spit it out. I know you’ve got news of some sort.’

‘It’s nothing, really. Miss Billington wanted to tell me that I have the makings of a supervisor, that’s all. Nothing definite.’

‘Nothing definite? That’s blooming marvellous. Well done, kid!’ Maisie cheered, and had to be shushed by the other two, as heads turned their way in the crowded staffroom.

Freda squeezed Sarah’s arm. ‘I’m made up for you. You’ll be in charge of the both of us in no time at all. Perhaps we should celebrate?’

Sarah shook her head. ‘No. It’s not as if I have a proper job offer. It might be years before I get the position. Besides, we have enough celebrating to do, with Christmas only a couple of days away and entertaining the old folk this evening. Are you sure you and your husband can’t come to us for Christmas, Maisie? Nan said the invite still stands.’