Together for Christmas (6 page)

‘I’m saddled with a cow’s lick,’ Hilda complained. ‘Me fringe parts in the middle and sits on my forehead like a blooming great moustache.’

Soon they were laughing and Flora knew Hilda was happy. It was at times like this that Flora knew she would miss Hilda a lot if she went away. They loved walking through the market together.
Flora often bought fruit and vegetables and occasionally fish. Cox Street market served all the nearby island hamlets: Millwall, Cubitt Town, Blackwall and even Poplar. Flora found all the traders
very friendly. There was more than enough choice of goods. From bric-a-brac and second-hand furniture to jewellery and clothes, fresh meat, fish and costermonger stalls. Flora’s favourite was
the tea and coffee stall. The trader sold hot and cold beverages, sweets, biscuits and toffee apples. She also liked the barrow boys offering roast chestnuts, shrimps, cockles and muscles when in
season. Sometimes she called in to the little shops running the length of the market on both sides. Flora noticed their trade hadn’t suffered in the first year of war. Grocers, butchers,
bakers and food shops were always busy. The stewed eels, tripe and onion and pease pudding café sold the favourite dishes of the day. The smells wafting out of the door were tantalizing. And
on Saturday, you had to push your way through the crowds to enter them.

‘Well, what’s all your news?’ asked Hilda as they joined the hustle and bustle.

‘We’ve had a letter from Will,’ Flora said and she opened the clasp of her small bag.

‘Let’s sit down and read it together,’ Hilda said excitedly. ‘I’m thirsty, are you?’ They looked over to the refreshment stall.

Flora bought two ginger beers and they sat on the wooden benches. Hilda sipped daintily from her enamel mug, her little finger turned out, a new practice that Flora hadn’t noticed
before.

‘Inoculations? What are they?’ asked Hilda, with a frown, as she read Will’s letter.

‘Our troops have to be protected against some diseases they could catch in a foreign country.’

‘Poor Will,’ Hilda said as she read on. ‘He wants so much to be a soldier.’

‘If only he didn’t!’

Hilda rolled her eyes. ‘Flora, he
wants
to fight for his country. For goodness’ sake, he’s old enough to know his own mind.’

Flora thought, but didn’t say, that Will was far too young to know his own mind, just as Hilda was. But she knew it would start Hilda complaining that Flora didn’t understand either
of them. And so she kept silent.

‘Dear Will,’ sighed Hilda, returning the letter to Flora. ‘I can’t wait until he comes home to tell us about his adventures.’

‘Hilda, it’s no fun fighting a war.’

‘But what’s the point in worrying? It won’t bring him home any sooner.’

Flora nodded. ‘No, it won’t.’

Hilda smiled at Flora’s approval. She straightened the cloth of each gloved finger, her eyes twinkling. ‘I’ve something else to tell you.’ She looked about to burst.
‘I’m invited to Adelphi Hall in August, to be interviewed by Mrs Burns, the housekeeper.’

Flora looked surprised. ‘So soon?’

Hilda gave a little sigh. ‘Imagine, me going to the grand mansion itself! Oh, what will I wear? What will look best? Should I do me hair different? Shall I look older, as if I know me
onions? Or—’

‘Just be yourself.’

‘But this is my big chance, Flora. I’ve got to look the part.’

‘Just like you do today.’

Hilda touched her hat lightly. ‘Do you think green is right for such an occasion? And is my feather a bit overdone?’

Flora knew Hilda was flying into her imagination as usual, forgetting the practical arrangements. ‘How are you going to travel there?’ she asked.

Hilda looked startled. ‘I hadn’t thought. Why?’

‘Can you afford the train?’

Hilda shook her head and her ringlets danced on her shoulders. ‘Don’t know. How much will it be?’

‘It’s expensive to travel by train.’

‘I’ve never been on a train before.’ Hilda looked nervous.

Flora hadn’t either, but she knew it wouldn’t be cheap. ‘What day are you going on?’

‘I’ve to write back and confirm a Sunday. Mrs Burns hasn’t got time in the week. Oh, Flora, would you come with me?’

Just then there were yells and shouts behind them. They turned to see a commotion at the bric-a-brac stall. Several people were yelling at the owner, an older man wearing a black felt hat and
glasses. He was hurriedly trying to clear his stock away as the crowd pushed and pulled at the stall. Flora saw one man reach out and take hold of the stallholder’s jacket. He began to shake
him, and as they struggled, another man swept the shelves clean with his arm. Pieces of china and cutlery, books, trinkets and other items scattered over the cobbles. Flora gasped as everyone
rushed forward to help themselves.

‘You dirty German!’ a woman shrieked. ‘Get out of England, back to your own country.’

Before very long, the stall was demolished. The owner fell to his knees, cowering, trying to ward off the blows until a policeman arrived and the poor man was removed from harm’s way.

‘Fancy a German trying to sell in an English market!’ a lady exclaimed as she walked by, talking to another woman. ‘The blighters sink our boats and murder the passengers, and
still expect Britain will give them a living.’

‘How do you know he was German?’ Flora asked, causing the woman to stop abruptly.

‘He’s called Old Fritz, ain’t he?’ the woman snapped back. ‘And his accent is enough to give him away.’

‘But he’s run that stall for years,’ Flora said in a shocked voice.

‘He won’t no more,’ the woman replied angrily. ‘Haven’t you heard? The coppers are interning all wot they call “suspect aliens”. After the
Lusitania
, you won’t see no foreigners selling their ill-gotten gains round ’ere.’

‘If you ask me,’ said the other woman, poking a finger towards Flora, ‘the bluebottles are late off the mark as usual. They should have rounded the buggers up after that
Zeppelin flew over at the end of May. It’s said people were killed by it and others injured. You’d soon change your tune, dearie, if one of them flew over here.’

As the two women walked on, Flora looked back at the broken stall. Two young boys were kicking the remains and shouting out curses. She felt very upset and was surprised when Hilda said beside
her, ‘She’s right, you know. That big airship was terrifying. Not that I saw it meself, but Mrs Bell said a friend of hers did and she ain’t felt safe since.’

Flora hadn’t witnessed the arrival of the German Zeppelin but she had seen the searchlights in the sky and heard the crackle of British guns. Combined with the sinking of the
Lusitania
and the heavy losses of troops in France, the public’s anti-German feeling was strengthening. ‘But Fritz is a nice old man,’ Flora protested, ‘always
courteous and wouldn’t do anyone harm.’

‘Don’t change the fact he’s German.’

‘He still didn’t deserve to be beaten up.’

‘Oh, forget him,’ advised Hilda, dismissively. ‘He only had a few bumps and bruises.’

Flora looked back as they walked on. She saw one of the boys trying to light the tarpaulin with a match. Another stallholder rushed up and cuffed him round the ear, shouting that they
didn’t want a fire at the market. Flora noticed that none of the other traders had come to Fritz’s aid. It was very sad to see people turn on one another like that.

‘So will you come with me to Adelphi?’ Hilda pleaded again. She took Flora by the arms, her face very serious. ‘I’ll pay you back, every penny.’

‘We’ll see,’ Flora answered. Somehow Hilda made it impossible to refuse.

‘Oh, thank you!’ said Hilda joyfully. She threw her arms around Flora.

Flora smiled. Hilda could always get round her. One way or another.

It was early on Sunday morning, August 1st, and Flora’s sixteenth birthday. She didn’t expect to be celebrating it in the back of a cart. But Dr Tapper had made the
suggestion of hiring Albert the farrier when she told him about Hilda’s invitation.

‘The trains are expensive,’ he warned. ‘Our farrier runs a carrying service for the Kent hopping season. I’m sure you’d have a comfortable enough ride at a
reasonable cost.’

Later that day, Flora had gone to Albert’s yard, where the doctor’s pony was stabled. She had shown Albert the address that Hilda had given her. Flora was delighted when she managed
to persuade him to be hired for just a shilling. She paid him in advance so he couldn’t change his mind.

Flora glanced at Hilda, who was wearing her green hat and feather. She looked very smart with her dark hair drawn up under its rim and the tailored grey suit moulded perfectly to her generous
curves. Flora had decided to wear a tan-coloured ankle-length skirt and cream buttoned blouse with leg-of-mutton sleeves. She had pinned her hair back in a knot, suitable for a formal occasion such
as this.

Albert had provided them with cushioned benches to sit on. The ride was bumpy, and with plenty of fresh air. He had offered to pull the canvas top over the cart to shield them from the elements,
but as there was very little breeze, they had decided to use their parasols instead. Flora tilted hers as they passed over Tower Bridge. She could see ferries and tugs of all shapes and sizes
moored along the river. Bigger craft, too, though they were not as colourful as the old ships. Here in the city, the waterborne traffic seemed to glide along. The wake of each vessel barely caused
a ripple. Flora was pleased that it was Sunday. They didn’t have to breathe in the smoke of the chemical-belching factories.

‘We’ll tell Albert to leave us at the gates of Adelphi,’ Hilda decided as they left the bridge and began their journey through the streets of the South Bank. ‘Imagine us,
walking up the grand driveway. Just like I saw in the library book.’

‘But we’re not grand visitors, Hilda.’

‘I ain’t being caught in a farrier’s cart!’ Hilda exclaimed and sat quietly, frowning. Then, adjusting her parasol, she gasped. ‘Look over there, by the omnibus.
It’s one of them new-fangled motorized vehicles without a roof. Oh, Flora, I wish I was riding in one of them!’

Flora stared at the gleaming black motor car. The lady passenger was dressed in cream lace and a wide-brimmed hat. The man drove in a stately manner and Flora and Hilda watched admiringly,
although, when a small explosion came from the vehicle’s rear, they burst into laughter.

‘At least a cart don’t make bangs to blow out your eardrums,’ Flora said ruefully. ‘And we hired Albert at a bargain price.’

‘I’ll pay you back, I promise,’ Hilda answered, latching her gloved hand over Flora’s arm. ‘Soon as I get my wages. I’ll take you out somewhere special.
Promise.’

Flora smiled. She would be rich if she had a penny for all of Hilda’s broken promises.

By twelve o’clock, the sun was still shining and their journey was almost over. Flora had never imagined that birds could sing so sweetly; the green, leafy trees were
full of wings and warbles and she’d seen squirrels and a fox too. Albert had rarely used the long, curling whip over the horse’s back. Instead, they had jogged slowly along the winding
lanes and narrow roads, through the hills and dales of the countryside. Hilda had fallen asleep, but Flora was wide awake. There was so much to see. She hadn’t been outside of London before.
Here the animals roamed freely in the fields and the little villages looked like the ones in picture books. Thatch-roofed cottages dotted the roadside. Flowers and shrubs grew everywhere. The
gardens were full of colour, light and shade. The country air made her head reel.

‘I hope Albert knows the way,’ Hilda mumbled sleepily, waking after the cart went over a bump.

‘Of course he does. This countryside is very beautiful.’

‘Yes, but there’s no people. It must be very lonely.’

Flora looked at her friend. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’

Hilda tossed her head. ‘No, course not.’

The cart rattled along and into a wood. The path was full of overhanging bushes and the smell changed to a musty, damp odour. Flora tried to peer through the undergrowth, but she couldn’t:
it was too thick.

‘Are you sure we’re going the right way?’ Hilda shouted up to Albert.

‘It’s what it says on this ’ere bit of paper,’ Albert yelled back.

For the next ten minutes, they were both very quiet until Albert stopped the cart at a crossroads. Flora and Hilda stood up to look over his shoulders. On the far side of the road was a pair of
very imposing iron gates. To the right was a small cottage. It wasn’t as pretty as those in the villages, but it had a certain charm.

‘That’s it,’ said Albert, nodding. ‘That’s your Adelphi Hall.’

Flora looked at Hilda. Her mouth was open. ‘It can’t be,’ Hilda objected. ‘The place in the books is much bigger.’

‘Don’t mean the gatehouse,’ said Albert with a laugh. ‘We have to drive through them big gates.’ He urged the horse across the road, and a stooping, elderly man
came out from the cottage. He exchanged a few words with Albert, opened the gates at a very slow pace, and stood watching as they passed through.

‘Poor fellow,’ shouted Albert over his shoulder. ‘Told me he’s been brought out of retirement as some of the male staff have joined Kitchener.’

Hilda looked anxiously at Flora. ‘Do you think there will be any nice-looking young men left at Adelphi?’

‘Or any young men at all,’ said Flora with devilment.

‘They can’t
all
have gone to war,’ said Hilda unhappily.

‘You said yourself that the women were filling the men’s posts.’

Hilda looked annoyed. ‘Yes, but not all of them.’

Flora was still smiling as Albert brought the cart to a halt. He nodded to the wooden sign in the middle of the path. ‘Tradesmen, servants and haulage to the left,’ he called.
‘You two girls ain’t royalty, are you?’ He chuckled.

‘Maybe not, but I want to walk up to the house,’ Hilda insisted.

‘The drive is for gentry, not the likes of us,’ Albert replied. ‘Now I can see a few potholes in the road. You’d better hang on to the sides.’

Flora glanced quickly at Hilda as the cart bumped along. Hilda was chewing her lower lip and the look on her face told Flora that things weren’t quite as she had expected them to be. The
cart bumped so violently that Flora could hear her own teeth rattling. The woods around them were full of dense thickets. The blue sky disappeared from view and Hilda’s face grew even
darker.