I had been holding Stanley’s hand, but now I gripped it tighter.
Clarence put his arm around Hest.
“Damn,” said Guy under his breath.
“Don’t worry,” I said to Stan. “We’re not doing anything wrong.” Bunty and Harold stuck like glue to the other children and nodded.
Why on earth had I thought this would be a good idea?
As directed, we all returned to the journalists’ room.
“Emmy, are we in trouble?” whispered Stan.
“Gosh, no,” I said. “I might stay with Guy, to talk to the gentleman, but I think Harold and Bunty are going to take you children out for some lunch.”
“I’ll say,” said Harold cheerfully. “You know me, I can eat.” He didn’t take his hand away from George’s shoulder.
“Me too,” said Bunts. “Hungry, Marg?”
“We don’t mind staying,” said Margaret, “even if it is the police.”
“It’s not the police,” I said firmly.
“Shall we call Roy?” asked Stan. “It’s just that the Scarey brothers said if we ever needed them, he’d know where they are.”
“No, no, darling,” I said lightly, as the rest of the team stared. “It’s all fine. I don’t think the Scareys would help.”
“But they did say,” insisted Stan.
“I know, love,” I said, still appearing carefree. “Not now, though. It’s Scarey with an E,” I added because Mr. Newton looked as if he might faint. “They’re very nice.”
“Massive,” said Stan. “They can lift up a house.”
“And kill Germans with one hand,” added Marg unhelpfully.
“Oh dear,” said Mr. Newton, who was finding it all a bit much.
The doors into Woman’s Friend opened again.
“It’s this way, Your Ladyship,” said the man who had told us to stay put.
“Thank you,” said a woman’s voice.
Nobody moved an inch. We just waited. A moment later, she walked into the room.
“Good morning, Lady Overton,” said Guy. “Perhaps you might allow me to explain.”
This was not what anyone had expected. Most of us had never met or even seen Lady Overton in person before, but even if Guy had not tipped us off, we could probably have made a good guess. For a start, there was a huge portrait of her in the entrance hall to the building that most of us had walked past hundreds of times, but more than that, her appearance confirmed that this was not just anyone who happened to have wandered in.
Lady Overton cut a very impressive figure. She was dressed in the sort of outfit one might see on Queen Mary. Not quite modern, not quite Edwardian, but modestly longer than was fashionable, and beautifully cut. Her grey hair was perfectly set, and a double string of pearls suggested a certain station in life. Now she looked around the room, a slight smile on her lips.
As none of us had ever met a Lady before and I for one had no idea of the socially acceptable response, there was a great deal of shuffling, nodding, a slight curtsy from Hester and Miss Peters, and very respectful Good morning, Lady Overtons from us all, including the children, although they were now looking more excited than anything.
“Good morning, everyone,” said Lady Overton. “Yes, Mr. Collins, an explanation would be most appreciated. I was led to believe that Woman’s Friend had been closed.”
“It has, Your Ladyship,” said Guy, “but unfortunately it was done so before we were able to finish all the reader correspondence. My staff have come in voluntarily and unpaid, to try to wrap up our responses. At my suggestion,” he added. “I should clarify that any concerns are entirely my responsibility.”
“Thank you,” said Lady Overton. “Now then, let me see.” She looked to the woman by her side, whom I recognised as the one who had come in earlier. “Might I have the letter, please, Miss Taylor? Thank you.”
Now Lady Overton looked briefly at the piece of paper handed to her. “May I ask if there is a Miss Hester Wilson here?” she said.
Hester, unsurprisingly, gave a small gasp from beside me. As she did, Clarence straightened his back and stood taller by her side.
“That’s me, ma’am,” said Hest in a tiny voice as everyone stared. Without thinking, I moved closer to her.
“Might I guess that you are Miss Lake?” said Lady Overton, turning to me, and as I nodded, she handed me the letter. “I received this just the other day.”
Dear Lady Overton,
I am very sorry to bother you, but I wanted to write so that you know how ever so sad we all are that Woman’s Friend has been sold, and also that we are very sorry we couldn’t save it from the new owners, who I have been informed confidentially are not up to scratch.
Miss Lake told me that you started the magazine with the late Lord Overton, and Mr. Collins says how kind you were to him when he was in the first war, and have been ever since, and we all hoped very much that we could keep it going for you.
This probably doesn’t sound very important, but I also wanted to tell you how much it has changed my life. I am sixteen and it is my first proper job. I work for Miss Lake and Mr. Collins, and they have taught me everything I know, other than what my mum already has.
Miss Lake says we have to keep going until all hope is lost. I think it probably is now, as Mrs. Porter has sacked us, but I wanted you to know that we tried.
Also, please may I offer my sincere condolences about Lord Overton. When my grandad died, my nan wouldn’t let any of us even say his name for ages, as she was so sad. Some people say that when you’re old and someone dies it’s not so bad, but Nan said that after fifty-two years she didn’t know what she would do without him.
So I do hope you are all right. I know the new Lord Overton is very busy now, but I hope he will still be able to visit you in Scotland sometimes.
Getting my job at Woman’s Friend was the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I will never forget it.
Yours sincerely
Miss Hester Wilson
Woman’s Friend Editorial Assistant (Retired)
Hester was now looking absolutely terrified.
“Well done, Hest,” I said to her. “This is the loveliest letter.”
“That’s exactly what I thought, Miss Lake,” said Lady Overton. “Please don’t worry, Miss Wilson, you’ve done nothing wrong.”
Hester thanked her and looked at the floor.
“May I ask, Lady Overton, how you knew we were here?” said Guy.
“You’re rather hard to track down, Guy,” replied Lady Overton. “Your charlady told my assistant that you had gone to work.”
At this point, Margaret, who was standing near the postbags which had been making her wheeze all morning, as she seemed to be funny around burlap, let out an enormous sneeze.
“Bless you,” said half the room at the same time.
“Lady Overton, we’re helping too,” said George pre-emptively. “In case you wondered why there were children here.”
“George was going to be the post boy when we bought the magazine,” said Stan informatively. “The office was going to be at our house, but Mrs. Porter said no. It’s a shame, as it was our mum’s idea and Guy is our friend, and we like seeing him after school. Hester’s teaching Marg and George to type,” he added, now in something of a reverie, “even though George is a boy.”
“Stan,” said Bunty quietly.
“I might learn too, but at the moment I prefer animals. I’m Stanley,” he continued. “We live with Emmy and Bunty, and Harold lives next door, although he’s always round at ours and he and Bunty aren’t married, even though they should be, but that’s all right and nobody minds because he’s a lot happier now and not as sad about getting blown up.”
Having brought Lady Overton fully up to speed on the key issue taking place in his and almost everyone else in Pimlico’s lives, as well as making Bunty and Harold look as if they had let themselves down, Stan gave her a big smile, pleased that he had covered everything.
Bunty swallowed and Harold said, “Ma’am,” as if Lady Overton reminded him slightly of Queen Mary too.
“I see,” said Lady Overton. “Goodness. It’s all go.” She turned back to Guy. “Guy, we need to speak. Until Miss Wilson’s letter, I had no idea you were trying to buy Woman’s Friend. I very much wish I had known.”
Guy nodded. He was more than a bit stuck. The last thing he could say was that Lady Overton’s son had told him in no uncertain terms not to contact her.
“I’m afraid, Lady Overton, that Mrs. Porter preferred to follow another route,” he said. “If my colleagues might be able to leave at this juncture, I could explain?”
Lady Overton surveyed the room again. “And you are all here even though the magazine has been sold?” she asked. “That’s extremely good of you. Might I see some of your work?”
An hour later, Lady Overton was still sitting at one of the desks, reading letters and listening intently as Mrs. Mahoney, Monica, and I continued to dictate advice. The others had also stayed, carrying on with what they had been doing, oddly safe in the knowledge that we were unlikely now to be thrown out. Clarence continued to come up and down from the post room, and it was safe to say that if anyone in the building had not previously been aware that Lady Overton was in residence, they certainly were now.
After a short chat with Her Ladyship about poultry (an unexpected area of common ground), Bunty and Harold had taken George, Marg, and Stan off for their promised lunch. All things considered, the children had behaved impeccably on this oddest of days, but it was best for them to go and have some fun, in case someone got carried away and mentioned buying chickens in pub gardens.
As Lady Overton had told her assistant to arrange a tray of refreshments, by lunchtime we—the soon-to-be-redundant Woman’s Friend team—found ourselves in the unexpected position of sitting in an office, somewhat awkwardly taking tea and biscuits, and discussing the post with the matriarch of the Launceston Press.
“So you see, Lady Overton,” said Guy, “many of the letters are from readers simply saying how sorry they are about the sale. At one point we had to stop them sending in donations. But it looks as if we’re very nearly there in terms of answering those that need it. I am aware our actions have been unorthodox. Thank you for supporting us today.”
“I should like to say something,” said Lady Overton. “An apology is in order. No, Guy, not from you, but from me. Clearly you have all had a most regrettable time of things recently. My husband believed in giving people a chance. Invariably he was right…”—she looked at Guy—“but on this occasion… well. I will just say he would be both proud of you all, and I believe not entirely happy with how things have turned out. For my part, I had no idea anyone wished to preserve Woman’s Friend as the magazine it was. I had thought the time had come for it to move on. Thank you for your work. You will of course be paid for today at weekend rates.” She paused and smiled. “Yes, I do know how we run the business. Now then, I am required elsewhere, but if some of you are happy to continue until all these letters are cleared, I would be most grateful. I very much wish things could have worked out differently.”
Then, as I for one regretted just having taken a mouthful of biscuit, we all said our goodbyes, and with Miss Taylor accompanying her, Lady Overton left.