A
coming of age war story and family saga full of romance, mystery and danger in
London’s East End. From the Sunday Times and ebook bestselling author of
the Lizzie Flowers series and A Wartime Christmas comes
a gripping NEW coming-of-age saga about love, loyalties and secrets.
Purchase Links
UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B08P52GZKR/
US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08P52GZKR/
Excerpt
‘Does she
love him, do you think Mrs Hayes? I mean she should, shouldn’t she,
if they’re going to be married?’ Following
Mrs Hayes’s instructions, Daisy idly spooned sugar into the
white china bowl. Having escaped to the factory with Pops and Matt, Daisy was
now in her element, discussing factory politics. In this instance, Daisy’s
attention had been riveted on a young woman operating a small lathe and the
much older man who hovered over her.
‘Who’s to
tell, ducks?’
Mrs
Hayes raised her voice above the thunder of every cog, wheel and oiled machine
racing towards the tea break in fifteen minutes time. As round as a barrel and
only a few inches above Daisy’s own height, the tea-lady’s
well-worked fingers adjusted the flowered turban squashed over her frizzy grey
hair.
Above
them, the cavernous factory roof rebounded the roars, grunts and groans of the
great mechanical arms and legs - as Daisy often thought of them - that
built electrical apparatus. Fifty men
and thirty-seven women worked in this storm of dust, perpetual noise and
invisible energy. But it was Mrs Hayes’s
commentary that fascinated her the most; a cocktail of courtings, engagements,
marriages, tiffs, trials and domestic tribulations.
Mrs
Hayes was the one person in all the world who answered her questions fully.
They were answers that Daisy could understand; not wrapped up in long words.
Things like who on the factory floor was walking out. Who was suffering
heartbreak. Or who had recently had a brother or sister or someone in the
family locked away in prison. Or banished to the country for nine months.
‘Forty
years I’ve been here, man and boy,’ Mrs Hayes continued. ‘I worked
under old Mr Charles before your Uncle Ed took over five years ago. I know
every face on the floor, my ducks, and each of those faces has a story to tell.
See, sometimes people don’t marry for love. There’s dramas
going on you’d never suspect from the outside.’
But Mrs
Hayes, decided Daisy, had guessed all the dramas and was privy to the
most intimate of details. ‘Elsie Shiner and Joe Rawlings,’ the tea lady
continued, ‘only got engaged last year. Threw a right old shindig at Joe’s
house. Stopped by for half an hour and enjoyed a stout.’
‘But
Elsie’s young and pretty and Joe’s old,’
Daisy
protested. ‘They don’t seem to match.’
‘Takes
all sorts, my ducks. But yes, you’re right. Must be twenty years her senior.’
’Elsie
likes that other man.’ Daisy had been watching from the small recess
where the tea trolley was stored. Pretty Elsie was certainly not looking at
Joe, her intended, but at a handsome young man who worked on the assembly line
nearby.
‘Oh, him,’
replied
Mrs Hayes with a disapproving frown. ‘Micky Wolf.’
’Micky
Wolf looks at Elsie like Matt looks at Amelia.’
‘You mean
your brother and his girly friend?’
’Amelia is young and pretty too.’
The
older lady smiled knowingly. ‘Don’t all depend on looks, no, not at all. Trouble
is, when you’re young you don’t see
that.’
‘I’m never
getting married,’ Daisy declared firmly.
‘Hold the
jug steady for me, my ducks.’
‘Instead,
I’m going to catch a ship,’ Daisy confided. ‘How
would I get one to stop, do you think, Mrs Hayes?’
‘That’s it,
closer or I’ll spill the tea.’ Mrs
Hayes licked a drip from the tip of her finger. ‘First,
you’d need a big cabin trunk for all your clothes.
Then something called a passport. And most important of all, your sea legs.’
‘My sea
legs?’ Daisy looked down at her feet. ‘Why not
the ones I’ve got?’
’Sea legs
are different to land ones. No sense in me explaining; you’ll know what sea
legs are the minute you find you haven’t got them.’
This
complicated mystery remained unsolved as Mrs Hayes lumped a firm hand on Daisy’s
shoulder. ‘Now, my ducks, make scarce of yourself while I’m on me
rounds.’
‘I’ll go
and visit Aunt Betty.’
‘Remember
to knock on her office door first.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Gives
the person time to put a smile on their face.’
Mrs
Hayes disappeared with the clanking trolley and Daisy ran up the stairs towards
the covered walkway. It was cold and draughty compared to the stuffy workplace
she had just left, so she skipped along the dirty floorboards to keep warm. At
the end of the corridor she squeezed through the flimsy partition leading to
the offices.
At the
door marked ‘Secretary’
she paused and remembering Mrs Hayes’s warning, was about to knock when she saw
it was slightly ajar. Quietly she positioned herself for the best view inside
the room. Aunt Betty’s tall,
slender figure stood at the window. Beside her - very close beside her - stood
Mr Calder, whom Daisy knew to be the accounts manager.
‘Betty,
you must think of an excuse to get away from him,’ he said
urgently.
’It’s not
that simple, Neville,’ replied Aunt Betty. ‘I rarely
go out in the evenings without Ed.’
’Not even
to a friend’s?’
Aunt
Betty stroked back a curl of her short dark hair as Mr Calder stepped closer. ’Neville,
please don’t - not here.’
Daisy
held her breath as Mr Calder did - almost - what Matt had done to
Amelia. That thing with their lips nearly meeting.
Daisy
gave a little choke of surprise. Aunt Betty quickly stepped back and Mr Calder
bent down to the desk.
’I’ll take
these papers with me,’ he said in a formal voice. ‘Thank
you Mrs Purbright.’
’Of
course, Mr Calder,’
replied
Aunt Betty. ‘Good morning.’
Daisy
scurried away as fast as her feet would take her. Retracing her steps along the
walkway she was sure she hadn’t been seen.
When
eventually she rejoined Mrs Hayes, she had come to the conclusion that it was
very odd to find her aunt and a strange man standing so close to one another.
If Mr Calder was not deaf - and surely he was too young to be hard of hearing -
then what excuse was there for his
behaviour?
After
turning this over in her mind, it became clear to Daisy that she did not care
for Mr Calder at all and didn’t see how Aunt Betty could like him either!
Author Bio
Mum and Dad were both
East Enders who were born on the famous or should I say the then infamous Isle
of Dogs. Their family were immigrants who travelled to the UK from Ireland and
France, while others emigrated to America.
As a child I would
listen to the adults spinning their colourful stories, as my cousins and I
drank pop under the table.
I know the seeds of all
my stories come from those far off times that feel like only yesterday. So I
would like to say a big heartfelt thank you to all my family and ancestors
wherever you are now ... UK, Ireland, France or America, as you've handed down
to me the magic and love of story telling.
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Web site: https://www.carolrivers.com
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