A Mother's Promise (36 page)

Jane stared at him wide-eyed. ‘We are? You never said.’

‘I didn’t think I had to, ducks. I thought we had an understanding.’

Jane’s pretty face flooded with colour. ‘Oh, Tom!’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Granny exclaimed,
slamming her hand down on the table. ‘Keep the sweet talk for later.’

Tom slipped his arm around Jane’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, Granny. We will.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Nora said, chuckling. ‘But you haven’t given Hetty an answer. She’s put it to you all nice and fair. I think she deserves a bit of consideration.’

Jane cuddled up to Tom and a beatific smile lit her face. ‘I think Hetty should do what she thinks is right.’

‘That’s my girl,’ Tom said, giving her a hug.

Hetty turned her head to give Granny a questioning look. ‘Granny?’

‘Suit yourself. You always do.’

‘But I need you all on my side.’

‘And where do you think I would be, you silly girl? Haven’t I always stood up for you children?’

This made Hetty smile. ‘Not always. I can remember a time . . .’

Granny rose majestically to her feet. ‘Nonsense. I’ve always done my duty by you all. You do what you want, Hetty. I’ll not stand in your way, but now I’m tired and I’m going to my bed.’ She picked up a candle. ‘I’ll say goodnight then.’

As she left the room, Tom stood up and helped Jane to her feet. ‘I’d best be going too. It’s work for me in the morning.’

‘I’ll see you out, dear,’ Jane said, smiling dreamily into his face. In response, Tom kissed her on the tip of her nose, and they left the room arm in arm.

‘There’ll be another baby on the way soon, you mark my words,’ Nora said, with her great gusty laugh.

‘Oh, no. Surely not.’ Even as the words left her lips, Hetty knew that what Nora said was probably true. Jane’s heart would always rule her head. We are so unalike, Hetty thought with a tinge of sadness. I am the exact opposite of Jane. My head rules my heart – but someone in the family has to be practical and sensible.

Next day, Hetty left the house laden with two baskets filled with Jane’s slab cake and rock buns for the coffee shop. She was just unlocking the door when Sally came hurrying down the street with her shawl flapping and her bonnet strings flying out behind her. ‘So you decided to come back,’ Hetty said, smiling.

‘It’s me job, ain’t it?’ Sally replied with a cheeky grin. ‘I done well on Christmas Eve, didn’t I?’

‘That you did,’ Hetty agreed. ‘And I’m glad to see you, Sally. Come in. I’ve got a lot to tell you.’ She opened the door and went inside. The room was stuffy and filled with the over-powering smell of stale tea, fresh paint and
carbolic soap. Despite the cold outside, Hetty opened the windows and left the door ajar in order to air the room. She lit the fire pots beneath the boilers and sent Sally into the scullery to fetch a broom and a mop. As they worked, she explained the situation to her. ‘I’ll work here all day, but as soon as we close I have to go and see Miss Heathcote and give her my answer.’

Sally leaned on the broom handle. ‘What are you going to tell her?’

‘I don’t know,’ Hetty replied, shaking her head. ‘I just don’t know.’

‘I couldn’t manage on me own just yet, Hetty. Maybe I could later on, when I’ve had a bit more practice, but I’d get muddled with the money and I’d panic if there was a queue waiting to be served.’

‘Don’t look so worried, love. I wouldn’t expect you to cope by yourself. Jane would be here to run things.’

Sally pulled a face. ‘Oh, well. I suppose I’ll have to get used to having her around anyway, seeing as how Tom is sweet on her.’

‘You knew?’

‘Of course I knew. Hasn’t he been spending more time round your place than his own home? We hardly ever see him nowadays.’

Hetty turned away to lay a clean cloth on one of the tables. It was silly to feel piqued
and she knew it, but once, not so long ago, it had been she whom Tom had courted, and now he was as good as engaged to her sister. Charles had not written for weeks. Perhaps all men really were as fickle and untrustworthy as Miss Heathcote had said.

‘Penny for ‘em?’ Sally said, chuckling.

‘I was wondering what was keeping the baker’s boy. We should have had the bread and rolls delivered by now. Will you go to the bakery round the corner, please, Sal? Find out what’s keeping him.’

Sally grabbed her shawl from the peg and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘I’ll go right away.’

‘And you might call in at the grocer’s shop and remind him I ordered boiled ham, a truckle of cheddar cheese and two pounds of butter.’

‘Right you are.’

As the shop door closed behind Sally, Hetty lit the gas mantles so that a warm glow filled the room. The fizzing and popping of the gas made companionable sounds, and outside the city street was coming to life with horse-drawn traffic and pedestrians hurrying on their way to work. The water in the boilers was starting to bubble and the room was feeling a little warmer now. Soon, Hetty hoped, they might have the first customers of the day: men who had just come off night shift and wanted a cup
of something hot to help them on their way, or perhaps clerical workers who had arrived on an early train and had not had time to eat breakfast before leaving the suburbs. It was still very early days and she was unsure as to the exact nature of her clientele. She could only hope and pray that trade continued to be as good as it had been at the start.

It was still dark outside and the snow had turned to a steady drizzle. While she waited for Sally’s return, Hetty went behind the counter to arrange the cakes on plates beneath glass domes. She was intent on her task when the door opened and the bell jangled on its spring. She looked up expecting to see Sally or at least one of the delivery boys, but it was George who came in carrying a wicker basket filled with watercress. ‘Hello, Hetty. I was passing the door so I thought I’d drop this in for you.’

She knew him well enough to realise that this was his way of apologising and she smothered a sigh of relief. ‘Liar! It’s well out of your way.’

His lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘That’s not the way to speak to your ex-partner, Miss Huggins.’

She moved slowly round the counter, holding out her hands to take the basket from him. ‘I hoped we were still partners.’

‘It’ll be Huggins and Cooper in name only from now on, girl. You deserve your chance and you’ve got to grab it with both hands. I ain’t one to stand in your way.’

There was a note of finality in his voice that made her blood run cold. ‘But I still need you, George.’

He reached out to caress her cheek with the tips of his fingers. ‘You go ahead and do what you think right, and I’ll keep my doubts to myself.’

‘Oh, George!’ Choked by tears, Hetty dropped the basket on the floor and she flung her arms around his neck. The coarse woollen material of his jacket was pearled with rain-drops and the smell of wet wool mingled with the scent of apples and damp earth. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Huggins and Cooper it will always be. Never mind what Miss Heathcote says.’

‘You tell the old besom that, girl. If it don’t work out then you know where to find me, but I think it’s best if we don’t see too much of each other for the time being.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Hetty unclasped her hands and stepped away from him. ‘Why can’t things be like they always were?’

‘You’re moving up in the world, Hetty.’

‘But that’s silly. It won’t make any difference to us.’ She met his gaze with a sinking
heart. ‘You will still come round to Princelet Street, won’t you?’

‘I don’t think that would be good for either of us.’

‘But you’re my best friend and I still want you as my business partner.’

‘Best friend, of course; business partner in name only. You know that’s the way it must be.’

‘It’s not so very different, George. Nothing has changed between us.’

The smile faded from his eyes. ‘No, and that’s the trouble.’

Hetty stared at him, nonplussed. ‘I really don’t understand why you’re being like this.’

‘Don’t you, girl? Then there’s no point in me telling you.’

She opened her mouth to argue, but he laid his finger on her lips. ‘Tell me one thing honestly. Are you still hankering after that damn Yankee Doodle fellow?’

‘I – well, yes. I do miss Charles, but what has that to do with you and me?’

‘First it was Tom you was sweet on and then along comes the Yankee. There never was a time when you looked on me as anything other than a pal, and now you’ve taken up with Miss Heathcote. Soon you won’t want to know old George, the costermonger from Spitalfields market. I know when I’m beaten, Hetty.’

‘You’re so wrong. I care about you a lot and I’ll always be your friend.’

‘That’s the pity of it,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘I’ll be around if you should need me, but I can’t stand seeing you slip away from me inch by inch. Goodbye, Hetty.’ He left the shop and the bell was still tinkling long after he had disappeared into the gloom.

Hetty bit her lip as tears welled up into her eyes. This was a situation that she could never have foreseen. She loved Charles with all her might but George was an important part of her life. She could not imagine going on without him. Why couldn’t they just be friends? Why did he have to spoil everything by being so difficult?

She tried to carry on where she had left off, but her vision was blurred with unshed tears, and she went to make a pot of tea, which was Granny’s answer to every situation imaginable. It was only when the tea was brewing that she realised there was no milk and she had forgotten to tell Sally to fetch some from the dairy. Hetty found herself sobbing because there was no milk for her tea. She was not crying because George had abandoned her. If he was being pig-headed and stupid, that was his business. She sniffed and wiped her eyes on her apron. George wouldn’t stay away for long, and by next week he would probably
have fallen in love with a pretty redhead or a blowsy blonde. Somehow that thought made her feel better – it was easier to brand him as a hopeless flirt than to accept that his feelings for her were genuine. He would return, she knew he would, and things would be the same as they ever were.

She had calmed down by the time Sally returned with the baker’s boy, closely followed by the lad from the grocer’s shop with the ham, cheese and butter. Hetty sent Sally out again to buy the milk, and soon the first customers of the day began to come through the door. Hetty was too busy then to dwell on her personal problems.

At the end of a long and profitable day, she said goodbye to Sally and she was just locking up when Milton brought
Miss Heathcote’s carriage to a halt outside the shop.

‘Huggins and Cooper!’ Miss Heathcote spat the words out as if they had a bad taste. ‘No such thing. That man has nothing to do with our business venture.’

Hetty stood with her hands clasped tightly behind her back. ‘No, but I think it sounds better than just Huggins alone and it was George who helped me to get started. If I am to come in with you, my only condition is that we keep that name.’

Miss Heathcote’s silver eyebrows drew together in a knot over her pointed nose and her eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Do you defy me, Hetty?’

‘In this, I do. I am willing to work with you, Miss Heathcote, but you said that the business would be mine and that you only wanted to prove a point to your board of directors.’

Miss Heathcote seemed to subside into a small heap in her chair and her lips trembled. ‘Don’t bully me, Hetty. I am a poor cripple . . .’

‘You might have a twisted spine, Miss Heathcote, but you don’t fool me. You are as wayward and self-willed as I am, and I think that is why you chose me. I will go along with you in everything you say except in the matter of the name above the door. It will be Huggins and Cooper, Coffee Shops, or nothing.’

Miss Heathcote’s face puckered as if she were about to scream or cry, and Hetty braced herself for the outburst, but nothing came. Miss Heathcote glared at her for a moment and then a reluctant smile lit her pale eyes. ‘All right. I grant you that Huggins on its own does not have a ring to it, and Huggins and Heathcote, which does sound quite impressive, gives the game away, so I will concede this point to you. You may keep your name and his above the door, but that is as far as that man gets. I won’t
have him interfering in our business. Do you understand me?’

‘Perfectly, Miss Heathcote. When do we start?’

‘Tomorrow morning, first thing.’ Miss Heathcote reached for a silver-bound note-book, pen and ink. ‘I assume that you can read and write?’

Hetty took the writing implements from her. ‘I may not speak like a toff, Miss Heathcote, but I ain’t ignorant.’

‘I am not ignorant,’ Miss Heathcote said automatically. ‘Very well then, write down the things that you must do, starting tomorrow morning. I have a list of premises in the East End that Mr Maitland has drawn up for me which I think might be suitable for further coffee shops.’

‘Mr Maitland!’ Hetty’s heart sank. ‘Why him?’

‘Are you questioning my wisdom?’

‘No, ma’am, it’s just that . . .’

Miss Heathcote raised a thin hand. ‘Never mind your petty prejudices, my girl. Henry Maitland has handled my finances for twenty years and I trust him implicitly. If we are to get on together, Hetty, you must not question everything I say or do. Your part in all this is quite straightforward. You will visit the premises listed and use your own judgement as to
which is the most suitable. We will begin with four coffee shops, concentrating on the heart of the City. If these prove successful, we will move into the Strand and finally into the West End. At every stage you will report back to me and I will give you further directions.’

Hetty frowned. ‘It doesn’t sound as if I have much choice at all.’

‘You will have your chance to prove just how bright and clever you are, Hetty. But you must never underestimate me. I have a good brain in my head and a mind as sharp as any man. You will act as my eyes and ears and your healthy young body will take you to places where I may not go. To all intents and purposes the coffee shops will belong to you, but the real power behind the throne will be mine. Accept this for what it is, or else walk out of that door and never come back. The choice is yours, my dear.’