Christmas at the Foyles Bookshop (The Foyles Girls) Read online

  Also by Elaine Roberts

  The Foyles Bookshop Girls

  The Foyles Bookshop Girls at War

  Christmas at the foyles bookshop

  Elaine Roberts

  AN IMPRINT OF HEAD OF ZEUS

  www.ariafiction.com

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Elaine Roberts, 2019

  The moral right of Elaine Roberts to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781788544870

  Cover design © Charlotte Abrams-Simpson

  Aria

  c/o Head of Zeus

  First Floor East

  5–8 Hardwick Street

  London EC1R 4RG

  www.ariafiction.com

  Contents

  Welcome Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Become an Aria Addict

  In loving memory of my wonderful husband, Dave, he started this journey with me but was unable to finish it.

  You are loved and missed more than words can say.

  1

  Victoria Appleton’s slender fingers clutched the brown envelope in her coat pocket, while the other hand gripped the wooden handle of her black umbrella. The wind tussled it from side to side, trying to whip it away from her. It was March 1917 and the war was still raging on. No one could see an end to it. The longer it went on, the more she worried she wouldn’t see her younger brother, Stephen, again.

  Then there was Ted, the first real love of her life, a love that had never faded over the years. She remembered writing her name and his on any spare bits of paper she could find, and they were always accompanied by lots of hearts. She’d always thought their names were meant to be together, Victoria and Edward Marsden. Practising her signature had brought it all to life until her teenage dream had tragically unravelled. When Ted wrote from the frontline, asking for her forgiveness, she had been thrilled to receive his letter. Her dream had been reignited, but now writing to him just reminded her of what was unobtainable. There had been no messages of love from him.

  Perhaps everyone was right, it was time to move on. Victoria reluctantly let go of the envelope, to hold the umbrella steady. Her breath came out in grey wisps, blending into the low clouds. There was no rhythmic patter as the rain pounded against the fabric of the umbrella. She pulled it lower, the icy rain spiking at her face. The puddles and the rivers of water running down Tottenham Court Road were testament that it had been raining all night. Victoria immediately thought about her brother, sitting in the trenches on the frontline. He often wrote about standing up to his ankles in water, with rats for company, as he waited for the Germans to attack them, or for orders to go over the top. She shook her head, shaking away the images she had conjured up. She couldn’t allow herself to think about the war. Since it had begun in 1914, she had only read about death and destruction on the frontline.

  The Horseshoe Brewery came into view. Victoria was grateful that the weather had dulled the usual stench from the spent grain left fermenting in the storage bins outside. She quickened her pace as she crossed New Oxford Street. Traders and their barrows were already set up. The aroma of vegetable soup followed her down the road, along with the chorus of voices shouting into the wind, offering their wares. The door to the popular George Tavern, on the corner of George Yard, was ajar as a grey-haired woman wearing a mob cap shook out a piece of rag.

  ‘Morning luvvie, init miserable today?’

  Victoria nodded. ‘It certainly is.’

  ‘You take care now and mind you don’t catch your death, being out in this.’ The lady nodded and waved her piece of rag around, before disappearing inside the public house.

  A smile formed on Victoria’s lips. That was something her own mother would have said to her on a day like this, but she only had her memories to give her comfort now.

  Victoria frowned. ‘Get a grip, what’s with all the maudlin thoughts today?’ She shook her head. ‘Right, only happy thoughts from now on.’ Smiling, she looked around and wondered if anybody could hear her talking to herself. Laughter rippled through her as she imagined what Molly would have to say about it. Today was her friend’s first day back at Foyles Bookshop; the three of them were back together again. Despite the cold wet weather, she smiled again. Alice, Molly and herself were like the three musketeers. She giggled as her thoughts started to run away from her. What was the saying? Oh yes, ‘all for one and one for all’.

  ‘Victoria.’

  She turned to scan the people walking along Charing Cross Road, their faces hidden from view as they bent their heads against the weather. Tilting her umbrella back a little, she saw Alice rushing towards her, holding her own umbrella high to avoid it clashing with others approaching her. The puddles splashed out with each step and covered the toes of her black ankle boots. Victoria waved at her friend. ‘Isn’t it awful? I’ll be glad when the summer arrives.’

  Alice smiled. ‘Indeed, it will be nice to take Arthur to the park and let his little legs run around, to tire him out.’

  Victoria turned and adjusted her umbrella. ‘Bless him, I can’t believe he’ll be two in a few months.’

  Alice jumped aside as a car drove through a puddle. The dirty water splashed up over the foot of her boots, falling just short of the tops.

  The girls breathed a sigh of relief when the familiar sign of Foyles Bookstore came into view. Its large white lettering stood out in the greyness of the day. ‘Novels 3d and 2d Given on All Returns’.

  Alice beamed as she glanced across at Victoria. ‘I’m quite excited to have Molly back working with us today.’

  ‘Yes, me too.’ Victoria tried to sidestep a puddle that was spreading across the pavement. ‘I wonder how her wedding plans are going?’

  Alice chuckled. ‘I’m sure we’ll hear today.’

  The girls took turns to close and vigorously shake their umbrellas.

  ‘Morning, Miss Appleton, Mrs Leybourne.’ Mr Leadbetter, their grey-haired manager, frowned at them as he watched them from just inside the doorway.

  ‘Morning, sir,’ the girls chorused in return.

  Mr Leadbetter smiled at the girls. ‘I’m sure you are aware that your partner in crime is back today.’

  The girls giggled.

  Victoria
began unbuttoning her coat. ‘I don’t know what you mean, sir.’

  Mr Leadbetter chuckled. ‘I’m sure you don’t.’

  Victoria glanced back outside at the pelting rain. ‘It doesn’t look like it’s going to be the weather for putting the book racks outside today.’

  Mr Leadbetter frowned. ‘Not at the moment, but it might clear up later.’

  They carried on walking through the towering shelves of books that were all around them, following the drip marks on the tiled flooring, out to the back of the shop, to hang up their coats and to clock on. The usual musty smokiness of the second-hand books was buried beneath the dampness of wet clothing.

  ‘Morning!’ Victoria yelled to the ladies milling around and received a chorus of replies. She slipped her coat off and hung it on a peg, before turning to walk away.

  A dong rang out as ladies inserted their cards into the clocking in machine. Molly came rushing in. ‘Oh goodness, I’m not late, am I?’ She took off her narrow-brimmed hat and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair.

  The women all giggled at Molly’s flushed cheeks. There was a chorus of welcome back from around the room.

  Victoria grinned at her friend and stepped forward to give Molly a hug. Molly’s usual floral scent was overpowered by the dampness of her coat seeping out onto the sleeves of Victoria’s white crinoline blouse. ‘Nothing changes.’ She laughed and turned back to her coat, thrusting her hand inside one of the deep side pockets. She pulled out the brown envelope, studying it for a moment, before folding it in half and pushing it into the pocket of her black calf-length skirt.

  Molly poked out her tongue.

  ‘Yes, very grown up. As I said, nothing changes.’ Victoria plucked her card from its slot, along with Alice and Molly’s and passed theirs over to them. ‘In all seriousness, it’s great to see you back here where we can keep an eye on you.’

  Molly’s lips lifted at the corners. ‘Thanks, I think I’ll take that as a compliment, because you’ve missed me.’ She unbuttoned her coat.

  Alice laughed. ‘Remind us, what time did you get to work at the munitions factory?’ She also stepped forward to wrap her arms around her friend. ‘Best get yourself ready, before Mr Leadbetter comes looking for you.’ She stepped back. ‘It’s lovely to have you back.’

  Molly took off her coat and gently shook it, before hanging it on a coat peg.

  The three of them stood in line, the clock constantly clicking, as each person in turn put their card into the slot and pulled it out again.

  Molly stood behind Alice, patiently waiting her turn. ‘Your hair looks nice, Alice, have you had it cut again?’

  Alice turned and patted her dark hair. ‘I had it cut to just under my ears, because every time I pick up Arthur, he grabs a handful.’ She chuckled. ‘I did think that at this rate, I’ll have no hair by the time I’m twenty-five.’

  Mr Leadbetter appeared in the doorway. ‘Come on, ladies, there’s no time for chatter. The doors need to be opened for customers, even in this miserable weather, so I need you all in your positions.’ He nodded as they all drifted past him one at a time. ‘Morning, Miss Cooper.’

  Molly squared her shoulders, wondering how much trouble she would get into this time around. ‘Morning, Mr Leadbetter.’

  ‘I want you to follow me to your new workplace.’ Mr Leadbetter peered down at Molly. ‘I’ve placed you in the children’s section, so I hope you enjoy the delights of working with them. Miss Appleton, I would like to see you, once I have organised Miss Cooper.’ Mr Leadbetter turned on his heels and, without a backward glance, he left the room.

  Molly glanced at Victoria. ‘What have you been up to?’

  Victoria’s hand came up and rested at the base of her neck. She shrugged. ‘I’ve not done anything.’ She frowned. ‘At least, I don’t think I have.’

  ‘Miss Cooper.’ Mr Leadbetter’s voice travelled through to the staff area.

  Molly clenched her jaw. ‘I’d better go. Don’t worry, Victoria, it’s probably nothing.’ She almost ran to the doorway. ‘I don’t want to keep old Leadbetter waiting and get off on the wrong foot from the first day.’ She stepped through the open doorway, almost knocking Mr Leadbetter off his feet. ‘Sorry, sir.’ Gulping hard, she wondered if he’d heard her. Molly looked down, her mouth dropping open as she noticed she was still clenching her clocking in card. ‘Oh, sorry, just realised I haven’t punched my card.’ Molly turned on her heels and ran back into the staff area.

  Victoria and Alice watched her with wide eyes as she brushed past them and put her card in the slot. She waited for the dong, to show the card had done its job, before pulling it out and placing it back inside the wooden cardholder. Without a word, and straight-lipped, she ran back into the shop and her manager.

  Mr Leadbetter eyed her for a moment. ‘Hmm, I know you are excited to be back with your friends, but don’t let me regret giving you back your job, Miss Cooper.’

  Molly looked down at her ankle boots, momentarily getting distracted by the wet dirty toes.

  Mr Leadbetter cleared his throat.

  Molly jerked and stared hard at the books on the shelves in front of her. ‘No, sir, I do appreciate you letting me return.’ Colour filled her face. ‘I do love being around books, but the excitement just got the better of me.’

  Mr Leadbetter smiled, showing a row of creamy white teeth. ‘Then you are in the right place, but the real question is, do you like children?’

  Molly glanced at him through her eyelashes. ‘As you know, before I left, I spoke to you about working with the children, so they would come to love books the way I do.’

  Mr Leadbetter nodded and stepped forward. Molly automatically followed him, weaving in and out of the bookshelves. He suddenly stopped and Molly just managed to not bump into him.

  ‘Sorry to be a nuisance, but I wondered if you could help me?’ A young girl stood in front of the two of them.

  Mr Leadbetter gave her his best smile. ‘Of course, what can we do for you?’

  ‘I want to buy my mother a book and someone told me she would enjoy Howards End by E. M. Forster.’ She looked up high on the bookshelves and indicated the area the book was in. ‘I think that’s it, but I can’t reach it.’

  Molly and Mr Leadbetter looked up to where she was pointing.

  Molly nodded. ‘I can see it.’

  Mr Leadbetter easily reached up and pulled the book from the shelf. The books either side looked like they were going to topple down, but he managed to push them back with his other hand.

  Molly smiled at the young girl. ‘That’s a lovely choice of book and I hope your mother enjoys it.’

  The girl laughed. ‘I don’t know, but my friend said her mother had read and returned it for her tuppence refund.’

  Mr Leadbetter examined the book. ‘Well, the cover is full of some lovely greenery over a large house, so it looks like it could be a good read.’

  Molly laughed. ‘It’s about a strong intelligent woman, so if it interests you maybe you should read it afterwards.’

  The girl beamed at them. ‘Thank you, I will.’ She took the book from Mr Leadbetter and they watched her make her way to a wooden counter for a bill payment slip.

  ‘That was a good show of knowledge, Miss Cooper.’

  Molly smiled. ‘I told you I love books.’

  Mr Leadbetter nodded. ‘Actually, I don’t know why I’m taking you to the children’s section, when you know Foyles like the back of your hand. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what to do, or explain how we feel about our customers – you remember the customer always comes first, so please be helpful and remember you do not handle any money, under any circumstances. There’s a counter to the left as you arrive in the section, and that’s where you will be, but when things are quiet, please tidy and dust the shelves.’

  Molly nodded. ‘Yes, sir, don’t worry, I will work hard.’ She frowned. ‘After the munitions factory, this will be a joy to do.’

  Mr Leadbetter softened h
is tone. ‘It must have been hard for you.’

  Molly gave a faint smile. ‘It was physically hard, but repetitive.’ Her eyes welled up. ‘There were some good people lost in that explosion.’ She pulled a plain cotton handkerchief from her black calf-length skirt and dabbed her eyes. ‘Some people lost everything they had, including their homes. This war has a lot to answer for.’

  Mr Leadbetter lifted his arms a little, before letting them drop by his side. He cleared his throat. ‘It sounds like it’s a good job you are back with your friends.’

  Molly nodded. ‘Yes, and thank you again for letting me come back.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I best get on and let you find Victoria, I mean Miss Appleton.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ He turned to walk away, stopping to look over his shoulder at the blonde-haired girl he liked to think was the daughter he never had. ‘It’s good to have you back, Miss Cooper.’

  Molly smiled and gave a slight nod. ‘Thank you, sir.’

  Mr Leadbetter turned to walk back to the payment booth, where he knew Victoria would be sitting. He watched her serving an elderly lady, giving a ready smile and chatting to her. The customer leant in and smiled after she had spoken. He nodded. Yes, he’d made the right choice. There had been a desire to choose Mrs Leybourne, but Miss Appleton deserved a chance, and to have something good happen in her life. He wanted to help give her something else to think about and this was the only way he could do so.

  Mr Leadbetter indicated to another member of staff to follow him, as he walked towards the payment booth. The door to the wooden and glass kiosk was always locked, the occupant keeping the key at all times. Mr Leadbetter was an upright man in his sixties, who was very popular with the customers. Since the premature death of his wife, not long after the loss of their only child at the Somme, he hadn’t been short of offers for meals and company, but he missed his family too much to think of any other companionship. He loved his position at Foyles, but it had been recognised that he needed help. The war hadn’t slowed down the business of selling second-hand books.