A Mother's Promise (38 page)

‘What?’ Miss Heathcote shrieked. ‘Are you giving orders to my staff in my house? How dare you?’

Hetty packed the papers away into a folder and she stood her ground. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am, but if you will not listen to me, then I must speak out.’

‘Supper for two in the dining room, Minnie.’ Miss Heathcote dismissed her with an imperious wave of her hand and Minnie fled from the room.

Dorrie was left standing in the doorway, staring open-mouthed at Miss Heathcote, who had half risen from her chair and was visibly shaking with rage. ‘You will do as I tell you, Hetty. Send the girl away and sit down.’

‘Miss Heathcote, I will not,’ Hetty replied, forcing herself to appear calm although she felt far from comfortable. She could see that Miss Heathcote was working herself up into one of her tantrums, but she was not going to give in. ‘Calm yourself, please, ma’am. You will only make yourself ill.’

‘You will do as I say. Everyone does as I say or I will make myself sick. I will be obeyed.’ Miss Heathcote opened her mouth and began to scream.

Dorrie ran the length of the room, and before Hetty could stop her she slapped Miss Heathcote hard across the cheek. Hetty gasped in horror as Miss Heathcote swayed on her feet and fell back against the cushions clutching her face. Her eyes were wide and
staring and her mouth open as if she was still screaming, but no sound came from her throat.

Unrepentant, Dorrie took her by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. ‘What sort of behaviour is that for a grown woman? I wouldn’t let me little brothers act up like that and you’re a grown woman who ought to know better.’

Hetty rushed forward to lay a restraining hand on Dorrie’s shoulder. ‘That’s enough. Let her be.’

Dorrie stepped away from the chair, shaking her head. ‘She’s all right. She just needed to be brought to her senses. I’ll get her a drop of brandy, that’ll put the colour back in her cheeks.’ She hurried across the room to select a decanter from a side table, and she poured a measure into a cut-crystal glass.

Hetty knelt down in front of Miss Heathcote, more alarmed by her silence than by her hysterical outburst. She clasped her cold, claw-like hands and chafed them. ‘Miss Heathcote, are you all right? Please say something. Dorrie didn’t mean to strike you. She’s just a child.’

Miss Heathcote’s eyes slowly focused on Hetty’s face. ‘She hit me.’

‘Yes, and it was wrong of her.’

‘Leave me alone,’ Miss Heathcote said, pulling her hands away from Hetty’s grasp.
‘Girl, Dorrie, whatever your name is. Come here.’

Dorrie approached her holding out the glass. ‘Brandy. Take a sip; it’ll make you feel better.’

Hetty was about to snatch the glass from Dorrie, but Miss Heathcote’s hand shot out and she seized it, took a large mouthful and swallowed the brandy with a sigh. ‘Quite right. I needed that for shock. I could have you arrested for common assault, my girl.’

‘I had to do it,’ Dorrie said calmly. ‘You would have suffered a spasm if I hadn’t slapped you round the chops. I’m sorry, miss, but you can’t say it didn’t work.’

Hetty held her breath. She was certain that Miss Heathcote would call a constable and have Dorrie arrested, but to her considerable surprise Miss Heathcote’s face crumpled into a grimace and she cackled with laughter. ‘Oh, you little witch. You’re quite right, of course, but no one has ever dared to strike me before. The only person who has stood up to me is Hetty, and now you.’ Tears were running down her hollow cheeks and Hetty took the empty glass from her hands and thrust it at Dorrie.

‘Best get her another drop to calm her nerves.’

Dorrie shook her head. ‘No, miss. I seen the effects of strong liquor on me dad before he
took sick and died. A little drop of brandy is like medicine, a lot of brandy is like poison. That’s what he done – poisoned hisself with strong drink and dropped dead. We don’t want the same thing to happen to her, now do we?’

‘I think I can take another small measure,’ Miss Heathcote said, wiping her eyes on a lace handkerchief. ‘Get me another drink and then sit down, child. I want to hear about your father. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought possible.’

‘No, miss,’ Dorrie said firmly. ‘Another time maybe, but we got to get home. There’s always tomorrow.’

‘Yes,’ Miss Heathcote said slowly. ‘There’s always tomorrow. I want you to consider removing to this address, Hetty. The child can come too. I find her interesting.’

Hetty was not about to argue and cause another emotional outburst. She attempted a smile. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Miss Heathcote. But now I think you ought to rest. You’ve worked hard today and so have I.’

‘Yes, we have worked hard, but tomorrow we will work even harder. You will visit ware-houses in order to select the fixtures and fittings for the new premises, and we will have to find wholesalers and suppliers of fresh produce for the coffee shops. You won’t have
time to worry about that family of yours, Hetty.’

Miss Heathcote’s words proved to be prophetic. In the weeks that followed, Hetty and Dorrie were kept fully occupied with the business of setting up the coffee shops. They became a familiar sight driving round the streets of East London in the Victoria with Peters standing guard over them when they did business in the warehouses around the docks. Hetty still kept an eye on the premises in Artillery Lane and often had to sort out the bitter quarrels that sprang up between Jane and Marie, as they seemed to disagree about everything and both wanted to be in charge. In the end Hetty had to ask Tom to intervene but he declined, saying that he would rather be flung into a lion’s den than face two angry women, particularly if one of them was his intended and the other his elder sister. In the end it was Granny who came up with the solution, and Hetty put Marie in charge of the newly opened coffee shop in London Wall. The business in Artillery Lane was making enough profit for them to hire a girl from the Foundling Hospital, who was well trained in matters domestic, to look after Natalia, which left Sally free to help Jane. Hetty was beginning to realise that handling staff was going
to be one of the most challenging aspects of her new venture.

In May, two more coffee shops were ready to open for business, one in Broad Street and the other in Fenchurch Street. The shop in London Wall was already doing a brisk trade and Miss Heathcote was so delighted with their progress that she instructed Hetty to find three more suitable premises. By now Hetty had established a good working relationship with the managers of the various furniture and fabric warehouses, and as each coffee shop was fitted out in exactly the same style all she had to do was to put in a repeat order. Miss Heathcote’s prompt settlement of their invoices made them all the more eager to give good service. Hetty now had a team of artisans who could do the necessary alterations, repairs and decoration in the minimum amount of time. She spent her days going from one coffee shop to the next, inspecting the books, checking on sales and sorting out the inevitable problems with staff. As she became more experienced, she grew more adept in selecting the girls and women who were to work for her, and was able to spot trouble-makers at an early stage. This often meant giving them their marching orders but she always tried to be fair, giving them a second chance and only resorting to sacking a person
if she did not mend her ways. This was Hetty’s least favourite part of the job, but for the most part she enjoyed using her wits to make the company a success, and it seemed that her endeavours were paying off when, at the end of the first six months’ trading, Miss Heathcote announced that they had made a healthy profit.

Although Hetty had resisted Miss Heathcote’s suggestion that she and Dorrie should move into the house in Berkeley Square, she had allowed herself to be persuaded to set up an office in the ground-floor room that Miss Heathcote’s late father had used as a study. It was relatively small compared with the rest of the reception rooms, but it was cosy and the walls were lined with shelves crammed with books on every subject imaginable. Hetty had no time to read anything other than business letters and account books, but she liked the cosy feeling of being surrounded by leather-bound volumes. There was a certain musty odour from the bindings and the dusty smell of old paper, which was oddly homely and reminded her a little of the attic room in Princelet Street.

Despite the fact that she was now earning good money, Hetty spent very little on herself and she still slept in the attic room, but now she shared it with Sammy, Eddie, Wilfred and
Stanley. She gave Nora a generous sum for their keep but the rest of her money was safely tucked away in the leather pouch beneath the loose floorboard under her mattress. Hetty’s experiences with Clench and Henry Maitland had led her to distrust banks, and it worried her that Miss Heathcote still entrusted much of her business to Maitland. When Hetty had again tried to warn her against him, Miss Heathcote had grown angry and declared that she had known Henry Maitland all her life and that he had always handled her affairs to her complete satisfaction. Hetty was not happy about this but all her efforts to persuade Miss Heathcote to transfer some of their money to another bank fell on deaf ears.

Despite the family’s initial misgivings about Hetty’s business venture, she had so far proved them to be unfounded. They were all doing well and she took great satisfaction in the knowledge that everyone had enough food to eat and footwear that fitted properly. They had new clothes and did not have to search the local dolly shops for other people’s cast-offs. The boys attended school regularly and Tom had given Jane an engagement ring which she flaunted proudly, refusing to take it off even when she was working in the coffee shop. Natalia had celebrated her second birthday in August, and was now a lively and
mischievous toddler, who ran into Hetty’s arms when she arrived home and covered her face with kisses.

Tom had been promoted to foreman at the gas works and he and Jane planned to get married at Christmas. They were looking round for a rented property not too far from Artillery Lane, even though Nora had assured them that they could have one of her rooms at a nominal rent. Jane wanted her own front door, she said, and her own back yard where she could hang out the washing, especially now that there was another baby on the way, which would be born in early spring. Granny was tight-lipped with disapproval at this announcement, and even though she said very little, she made her feelings perfectly plain. Nice girls did not behave in that way. Hetty took the news in her stride. She was not surprised, nor was she shocked. She had never given herself to a man, but she knew that if Charles had stayed on in London things might have been different. She was not sure whether she would have been strong enough to resist temptation, and Jane’s news made her yearn for him even more. His letters were becoming sporadic, and Hetty couldn’t help worrying that he might be forgetting her. When he did put pen to paper he still addressed her
fondly, but he seemed to be slipping further and further away from her. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever see him again, but she quickly put all such thoughts out of her mind. They were meant for each other, of that she was certain.

She had seen very little of George in the busy months when she was setting up the coffee shops. He still came round to Princelet Street to see the children, and he had given Natalia a beautiful doll for her birthday, from which she refused to be parted. Dolly went everywhere with her and Talia could not sleep unless her favourite toy was tucked up in bed beside her. George had also gone to the enormous expense of buying one of Richter’s Anchor Stone building boxes for Sammy’s birthday. The composite stone bricks had kept all four boys occupied for hours building castles, houses and forts. Hetty knew that the children loved George dearly and he had become almost a father figure to them, which she thought was ironic since he was most definitely not the marrying kind.

‘You spoil them, George,’ Hetty said when he turned up unexpectedly one Sunday with a bag of violet creams, boiled sweets and sugared almonds for the children. He gave her one of his unfathomable looks and a wry smile. ‘Well, since I will be unlikely to have any children of
my own, I might as well spoil these ones who are very close to my heart.’

‘If you stopped chasing after everything in a skirt and settled down with one girl, you could have a family of your own,’ Hetty said with more acerbity than she had intended. Her mind was on Charles and his failure to reply to her last letter. She shot George a sideways glance beneath her lashes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.’

He laid his hand on his heart and rolled his eyes. ‘You know there’s only ever been one girl for me, Hetty, and she is standing not a million miles from here.’

Sammy and Eddie curled up with laughter at his antics and Hetty smiled. ‘You are such a clown, George. Can you wonder that no one takes you seriously?’ She gathered up the ledgers that she had been attempting to study at the kitchen table, and she took them up to her room. She tried to settle down to do the books but she could not concentrate. In the end she abandoned her work and began to pace the floor. What was the use of being successful in business if the man you loved was thousands of miles away? The fear that she had been pushing to the back of her mind was rapidly turning to panic. The long separation from Charles was working its destructive evil – he was forgetting her. If she
did nothing then all was lost. Her heart would be broken and all the money in the world would not make things right. If he would not come to her, then she must go to him. It was as simple as that.

‘What?’ Miss Heathcote cried with her eyes almost popping out of her head. ‘You want to go to America?’

‘Yes, Miss Heathcote. I’ve worked very hard for you since February and in a few weeks’ time it will be Christmas. I want to go now. I must go now.’

‘You want to run halfway across the world after a man?’ Miss Heathcote’s voice rose to a bat squeak. ‘You must be out of your mind.’

Hetty acknowledged this barb with an attempt at a smile. ‘I think I must be a little crazy, but I have to see him face to face. I must find out if he still feels the same way about me.’