Mrs Boots. Deborah Carr

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       I hope you won’t be offended if I ask you to consider if I may perhaps address you by your first name in future? Please do not hesitate to dismiss this request if it bothers you at all; I would fully understand. If, though, it sits comfortably with you, then please may I ask that you call me Jesse and maybe I may refer to you as Florence?

       I am trying to find a time in my calendar where I might have a week or so away from the office to visit Jersey once again. As soon as I do have anything planned, I shall let you know and then maybe we can make further plans about how to spend those carefree days.

       My very best wishes, to you Miss Rowe.

       Yours very sincerely,

       Mr Boot (Jesse)

      Florence checked her old mantel clock. She didn’t have time to write her reply, so put aside his letter for consideration later. She had no qualms about them using their first names to address each other. Weren’t they good friends by now? A niggling thought crept into her mind. How would her parents take to this knowledge, especially her mother? She, Florence was sure, would not be as keen to think of her daughter being on first-name terms with a man she had not known for very long. After all, it wasn’t as if they were courting.

      Going back to the shop, she approached her father with an idea that she had been brooding over for the past few days.

      ‘I was wondering if you would let me rearrange the back of shop display table. I thought I could move it further forward and change the way we arrange the display slightly.’

      He looked askance at her. ‘Whatever for? It’s always been in the same place.’

      She didn’t like to offend him by arguing but was determined to try out her plan. ‘I can’t help thinking that if we moved it further forward and pushed the one in front slightly to the right, that it would make it easier to see from the window. It would also be easier to walk around and look at the books from each side of the table.’

      She braced herself for his annoyance, surprised when it didn’t come. ‘Why not? Those books have always been the one to sell the least, even when they are the more appealing to the customers. Amy can help you move the table after closing and you can then redo the display in whatever way you choose.’

      Stunned, she nodded her agreement. ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said quickly, before he had a chance to change his mind. She took a deep breath to quell her rising excitement. She was determined to prove to him how well her ideas would work.

      He took hold of both his jacket lapels and stared at her. ‘You have a good head for business, Florence, especially for a woman.’

      His comment jarred on her. She knew he didn’t mean to be unkind but was aware he would never say such a thing to her brother Willie. However, she mused, she couldn’t help being pleased with his compliment, no matter how backhanded it might be.

      ‘I will allow you to leave it that way for a week and if it doesn’t make any difference to the sales then you’ll need to move it back to where it was.’

      After rearranging the table and redoing the display, Florence was too tired to reply to Jesse. So, it wasn’t until the end of the following day that she was able to do so. She didn’t mind because this time she had something exciting to tell him. It would be interesting to see what he thought of her idea in the shop and the results after only one day. Would he be impressed with her acumen? She hoped so. He seemed to treat her almost like an equal already in other matters, and for him to see her as something other than a lightheaded woman would please her very much.

       27 Queen Street

       St Helier

       Jersey

       10 September 1885

       Mr J Boot

       16–20 Goose Gate

       Nottingham

       Dear Jesse,

       Thank you for your most recent letter and, yes, I am happy for you to address me by my first name and I shall, as you see from the beginning of this letter, address you in the same way.

       I am very much looking forward to your second holiday here. I was wondering if you would be interested in visiting some of the local shops? We have two large stores, A De Gruchy and Voisin and Company. They are probably the closest to the large stores in your area and I thought that you might find them of interest. Please do not think I shall be offended if you would rather not go to them. I understand that you will be taking time off work and probably will not be wishing to think of such things during your holiday.

       There is an interesting adaptation by Mr D’Oyly Carte’s Opera Company of Patience at the Theatre Royal in Gloucester Street. I went to see the show with my sister Amy and a few friends last night. I shall look at the theatre’s programme when I know the dates of your visit and if there is something in it that I believe might interest you, I shall let you know.

       The shop has been very busy over the past few days. Father has allowed me to move one of the display tables that was at the back of the shop forward to the front. He only agreed because I kept asking and assuring him that we would sell more books if I made the changes to the shop. To be honest I wasn’t entirely certain that it would work, but I thought it worth a try, and, lo and behold, it did work, and we doubled the sales for those books today. I have to admit that I was very happy that my idea was successful. So was my father, although he didn’t say as much.

       I look forward to hearing from you again.

       Very best wishes,

       Yours sincerely, your good friend,

       Florence Rowe

       Chapter 7

      The following days passed slowly. Florence was at a loss to how different she felt about her days. Until meeting Mr Boot, or Jesse, as she still was trying to get used to calling him, she had been carefree and excited to attend concerts, go on outings and generally spend her free time with her friends. Since her days out with him and then his subsequent departure, she seemed only to work and wait for the postman to bring the mail, and then, if his delivery did not include a letter from Jesse, her day was marred and grey.

      She glanced up at the wall clock above the counter in the shop for the twentieth time that morning, willing the time to pass until the postman’s arrival.

      ‘What is so urgent that you keep staring at that clock all the time?’ her father asked, his right index finger placed on his account book where to hold his place in his additions. ‘Is there somewhere you wish to be?’

      Embarrassed to have been caught out, she shook her head. ‘Do you think the post is a little late today?’

      He was about to answer when the door opened, and the brass bell announced a customer’s arrival. Forgetting his conversation СКАЧАТЬ