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Authors: Kate Thompson
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silly goat. I can’t do anything right.’
So absorbed in her own turmoil was she, she barely noticed Vera looming over her.
‘I said, are you all right, Poppy?’ she repeated.
‘What?’ She jumped, startled. ‘Oh, sorry. I was away with the fairies.’
‘You were very quiet over breakfast this morning.’ Vera’s direct manner took Poppy by surprise.
‘Oh, gracious, no, Vera, I mean Mrs Shadwell. No, I was just a little tired. I hope I didn’t come across as ungrateful, because I owe you so much for all the kindness you’ve
shown me, really I do,’ she stammered. ‘I’m just feeling a little out of my depth.’
Vera’s face softened. ‘I promised I would look after you, Poppy, and that’s exactly what I intend to do, so chin up, please.’ Without waiting for Poppy to reply, she went
on, ‘I’ll help you move in after work tonight, and I’ll also make sure Mr Gladstone gives you an advance on your wages, just enough to buy a bit of food. I understand your
mother’s paid your first month’s rent upfront?’
Poppy nodded and bit her lip hard to stop the grateful tears that were fast filling her eyes again.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, Poppy?’ asked Vera again. ‘Is there something else you’d like to tell me?’
‘No, I’m fine, really I am,’ she reassured her. ‘You’ve been so kind to me, all of you, and I really am so grateful.’
When Vera moved on, Poppy lost herself in the strange comfort of repetitious work: sewing, folding and stacking, over and over. Poppy had been nervous at the prospect of her new duties, but she
was rather pleased to find she had taken to sewing like a duck to water. The whirring of the machine and the women’s song wrapped her in a comforting rhythm.
The rest of the day passed mercifully without incident, and by the time the skies darkened to dusk, Poppy’s soul was calm again.
At precisely eight that night, the shrill bell that signalled the end of the shift rang and Daisy jumped from her seat like a scalded cat.
‘Gracious, Daisy,’ Poppy chuckled. ‘You’ll do yourself an injury moving that fast.’
Daisy smiled and grabbed her purse before whistling over to Sal. ‘Sorry, Poppy. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you joining me and Sal tonight? I’m sure they’ll have a
friend for you. We’ve just got time to stick a bit of warpaint on, and if we hurry, we can get the number 22 to Leicester Square.’
‘Leicester Square? Oh no, I really can’t,’ Poppy replied, growing flustered. ‘Besides,’ she blushed, silently cursing the ease with which she turned red,
‘I’ve got to move into my new lodgings.’
Sal, however, needed no encouragement and was already pulling on her coat. Poppy would never dare admit out loud that next to them she felt like a frumpy little country mouse. Drinks in an East
End pub were one thing, but big showy nights out in the centre of London were quite another.
Besides which, Daisy was radiant; her beauty was so luminous that Poppy would pale into invisibility next to her.
Poppy spotted Vera approaching out of the corner of her eye and swiftly went back to her sewing.
‘You out again, Daisy?’ Vera asked. ‘I thought after last night you might stop in. There are chores to be done, and once we’d done the washing, I thought I’d treat
us. I’ve saved up my coupons and was going to pick us up some pie and mash. There’s
Dancing Club
on the wireless too. You used to love that, remember?’
Poppy listened sadly as Vera’s peace offering was shot down. She knew enough of Vera’s home life already to realize that she quite clearly didn’t want to be left on her own
with Frank.
‘No offence, Vera,’ Daisy replied airily, ‘but why would I stop in with you and a stale pie when I could be out meeting the man of my dreams? I’ll do my chores tomorrow
night, I promise. The washing can wait. This could be my shot at true love.’ With one final look in her compact mirror, she snapped
So absorbed in her own turmoil was she, she barely noticed Vera looming over her.
‘I said, are you all right, Poppy?’ she repeated.
‘What?’ She jumped, startled. ‘Oh, sorry. I was away with the fairies.’
‘You were very quiet over breakfast this morning.’ Vera’s direct manner took Poppy by surprise.
‘Oh, gracious, no, Vera, I mean Mrs Shadwell. No, I was just a little tired. I hope I didn’t come across as ungrateful, because I owe you so much for all the kindness you’ve
shown me, really I do,’ she stammered. ‘I’m just feeling a little out of my depth.’
Vera’s face softened. ‘I promised I would look after you, Poppy, and that’s exactly what I intend to do, so chin up, please.’ Without waiting for Poppy to reply, she went
on, ‘I’ll help you move in after work tonight, and I’ll also make sure Mr Gladstone gives you an advance on your wages, just enough to buy a bit of food. I understand your
mother’s paid your first month’s rent upfront?’
Poppy nodded and bit her lip hard to stop the grateful tears that were fast filling her eyes again.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, Poppy?’ asked Vera again. ‘Is there something else you’d like to tell me?’
‘No, I’m fine, really I am,’ she reassured her. ‘You’ve been so kind to me, all of you, and I really am so grateful.’
When Vera moved on, Poppy lost herself in the strange comfort of repetitious work: sewing, folding and stacking, over and over. Poppy had been nervous at the prospect of her new duties, but she
was rather pleased to find she had taken to sewing like a duck to water. The whirring of the machine and the women’s song wrapped her in a comforting rhythm.
The rest of the day passed mercifully without incident, and by the time the skies darkened to dusk, Poppy’s soul was calm again.
At precisely eight that night, the shrill bell that signalled the end of the shift rang and Daisy jumped from her seat like a scalded cat.
‘Gracious, Daisy,’ Poppy chuckled. ‘You’ll do yourself an injury moving that fast.’
Daisy smiled and grabbed her purse before whistling over to Sal. ‘Sorry, Poppy. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you joining me and Sal tonight? I’m sure they’ll have a
friend for you. We’ve just got time to stick a bit of warpaint on, and if we hurry, we can get the number 22 to Leicester Square.’
‘Leicester Square? Oh no, I really can’t,’ Poppy replied, growing flustered. ‘Besides,’ she blushed, silently cursing the ease with which she turned red,
‘I’ve got to move into my new lodgings.’
Sal, however, needed no encouragement and was already pulling on her coat. Poppy would never dare admit out loud that next to them she felt like a frumpy little country mouse. Drinks in an East
End pub were one thing, but big showy nights out in the centre of London were quite another.
Besides which, Daisy was radiant; her beauty was so luminous that Poppy would pale into invisibility next to her.
Poppy spotted Vera approaching out of the corner of her eye and swiftly went back to her sewing.
‘You out again, Daisy?’ Vera asked. ‘I thought after last night you might stop in. There are chores to be done, and once we’d done the washing, I thought I’d treat
us. I’ve saved up my coupons and was going to pick us up some pie and mash. There’s
Dancing Club
on the wireless too. You used to love that, remember?’
Poppy listened sadly as Vera’s peace offering was shot down. She knew enough of Vera’s home life already to realize that she quite clearly didn’t want to be left on her own
with Frank.
‘No offence, Vera,’ Daisy replied airily, ‘but why would I stop in with you and a stale pie when I could be out meeting the man of my dreams? I’ll do my chores tomorrow
night, I promise. The washing can wait. This could be my shot at true love.’ With one final look in her compact mirror, she snapped
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