Mrs Boots. Deborah Carr
Читать онлайн книгу.
permission to take you out to dinner.
Yours sincerely and very best wishes,
From your good friend,
Mr Boot
It had only been two days since Mr Boot had left on the ferry but already she missed his company. She had only known him a short time and hadn’t expected him to make such an impact on her life. She needed to write a reply to him but hadn’t managed to finish a letter that she was happy enough to post.
Florence had turned down a couple of invitations from Albert since Mr Boot’s departure but was beginning to feel unkind to cancel their latest pre-arranged engagement to visit the Theatre Royal to attend one of the shows.
Albert was a kind man and a good friend. She didn’t want to let him down again, so when he had popped in from the tea merchants earlier that day to deliver some tea for her mother, she had agreed to go with him and several other friends to a poetry reading.
Florence went up to the living room and offered her mother some assistance making supper.
‘No, thank you,’ her mother said. ‘That won’t be necessary. We’re only having pork chops and boiled potatoes. It won’t take a moment to prepare and will be ready shortly.’
Her mother came out of the kitchen, drying her hands and taking off her apron. ‘Amy mentioned that you received a letter in today’s post.’ She didn’t look very happy and Florence knew that her mother assumed it could be from Mr Boot.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said. ‘I’ll quickly go to my room and freshen up.’
Not wishing to wait a moment longer, she ran upstairs. She wasn’t sure what to write in reply but did not want to delay her letter to him in case he thought her uninterested in their correspondence. If she hurried and wrote back to him, he would probably receive it in the next day or so. She sat at her desk. Taking a piece of her favourite cream writing paper, she picked up her pen and began to write.
27 Queen Street
St Helier
Jersey
Channel Islands
4 September 1885
Mr J Boot
16–20 Goose Gate
Nottingham
Dear Mr Boot,
Thank you very much for your letter. I, too, enjoyed our outings and wish that you did not have to cut short your holiday on the island and go home to the mainland at such short notice.
I am happy to hear that you plan to visit us again. I will endeavour to make a list of the places you might like to see and the best places to enjoy a pleasant meal, or a dance. But there is still so much of the island that I have yet to show you.
You also haven’t been to the north of the island, which is a little more dramatic than the south, with cliff faces that are breathtaking to look at. We could probably take a horse-drawn taxi out to the splendid breakwater at St Catherine’s.
Please send my best regards to Jane; I hope that she is well.
With best wishes,
Yours sincerely,
Your friend, Miss Florence Rowe
She heard her sister leave her bedroom next door and walk down the creaky attic stairs to the main landing for supper. Then her mother’s voice called for her to join them. She was unsure if her sister would come into her room for a quick chat before they went out for the evening. Florence quickly folded her letter and slipped it into an envelope, and wrote Mr Boot’s name and address on the front.
She met up with Albert and her friends for their evening out. It was pleasant enough, although her mind kept wandering to Mr Boot and his letter. She had posted her letter on the way out and could barely wait for his reply to reach her.
Several days later, after surreptitiously checking the post each day, Florence was delighted to spot a letter on the mantelpiece. Her father would have opened his own mail by lunchtime and her mother rarely received mail from anyone. Excitement bubbled in Florence’s stomach. This letter had to be either for either herself or Amy. She walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up the envelope. It was indeed addressed to her.
She couldn’t help feeling surprised that his letters to her had come to mean so much and so quickly.
Florence didn’t want her mother to see that he had written again. She didn’t like to keep things from her family but didn’t see the point in causing her mother any consternation if it wasn’t necessary. She and Mr Boot were merely friends after all, weren’t they? she thought.
Finally, it was her half an hour lunch break, and Florence made an excuse and raced up to her room to read her correspondence.
16–20 Goose Gate
Nottingham
7 September 1885
Miss Florence Rowe
27 Queen Street
St Helier
Jersey
My dear Miss Rowe,
How splendid of you to reply to my letter so quickly and with so much information about your beautiful jewel of an island.
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