Chapter 23

The Palace, Leeds, 1921

Mary looked at the photograph of her and William’s wedding; it had been twenty-seven years to the day since they had married but it seemed a lifetime away. She picked up the silver-framed photograph and kissed it: every minute of the day she missed him, oh, how she missed him, sometimes wishing herself under the earth with him.

‘Oh, William, I’ll always love you. Why did you have to go and leave me?’ Mary whispered and placed the photograph back on the table beside her. She closed her eyes and conjured William in her mind, his smile, his touch, his kisses that she missed so much. She had everything a woman could wish for except the man she loved by her side …

Life had been so good; the Palace had been profitable, so much so that William had planned to buy another hotel in Manchester. They had been blessed with a beautiful daughter they had named Eve, after Mary’s mother, and a son called Toby and they had wanted for nothing. Then the war came, the war they’d said would end before Christmas and street after street of working-class Leeds’ lads went off to fight for their country. The Leeds Pals, they were called, as one friend encouraged another friend to join them for excitement and for the love of their country. But the war didn’t end at Christmas; instead, it went on and on and thousands of the young and innocent were slaughtered on the fields of Flanders and in the trenches that were filled with rats, feeding on the bodies of the slaughtered. She’d watched as William had read the newspaper every morning and grown more and more restless, feeling that he should do more than run a place of enjoyment and leisure for the higher classes when young men were dying on his behalf. Then the day came that she had dreaded. Even though he was of an age that he did not have to go and fight, William had gone out in Leeds and returned to tell her that he had enlisted and in a few weeks he would be joining the local lads fighting the Hun. She remembered kissing him and looking at him with both pride and heartbreak as she kissed him in his smart uniform on the busy railway station platform. Women were crying and sobbing, all fearing that it would be the last time they would hold their loved one in their arms.

Every time the post came she had looked straight away for letters from William and, when received, she read them with fervour. Then the letters stopped and she had feared the worse. She was right to do so, for the telegraph boy brought the bad news that he’d taken to so many homes in Leeds: William had been killed when his battalion went over the top on the battlefields of the Somme. Tears filled Mary’s eyes as she remembered holding the telegram and nearly fainting as she looked at the words, so cold and clinical, telling her that life would never be the same for her and her children. She could have given up then; it would have been easy just to have sold the hotel and gone to live comfortably in the countryside around Leeds, but she knew that was not what William would have wanted her to do. Instead, she had stood her ground and taken over the running of the hotel, using it for many a function to raise funds for the valiant lads fighting for King and Country and it had been the making of her – she’d been accepted by the best of society and was appointed the first woman to sit on the Leeds Board of Trade. Now Mary looked around her, sighing; she’d come a long way, that was for sure, but she would have done a lot more if William had been by her side.

‘Mother, are you all right?’

Mary felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to look at her nineteen-year-old daughter, who had quietly walked into the apartment at the Palace that the two of them called home. It had taken eight years of marriage for Mary to conceive and Eve was the most precious thing in her life now William was no longer with her.

‘Yes, yes, I’m all right, thank you, Eve. I was just thinking of your father because it would have been our wedding anniversary today. I miss him so much …’ Mary sighed.

Eve walked around and, squatting down in front of her mother, hugged her. ‘I know you do. I have such good memories of him and I miss him too. He was a wonderful father, used to tuck me into bed every night when I was small, no matter how busy he was, and take me out for a drive in that boneshaker of a car of his after Grandad had persuaded him to buy it. He’d have loved the ones that are on the roads now.’

‘Oh, Lord, he wouldn’t be fit to be on the road now, he’d go so fast. I can just see him and Toby with their heads under the bonnet, thinking themselves top mechanics, when neither would have had a clue about anything!’ Mary said and laughed. ‘How are things going downstairs? I suppose I’d better show my face and make sure everything runs smoothly.’ Mary stood up next to Eve and kissed her gently on the cheek. She was a throwback to her grandmother, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and was tall and slender, the dress she was in emphasising her height. Gone now were the restricting corsets that Mary had worn at her age – straight, drop-waist dresses were all the fashion and women were starting to have more say in their lives.

‘It’s really busy and the jazz band was just setting up in the bar. Molly was instructing them on what to do and making sure they behaved before telling her girls to get the bar tidy and make sure they have all they need for the busy night ahead.’

‘Good for Molly – she’ll not take any rubbish from anyone; she’s a good manageress. Now, do I need to powder my nose or do I look respectable enough for our customers?’ Mary glanced at herself in the mirror on the wall and looked intently at her features. Time had been kind to her; her hair was still dark and shiny, her skin free of wrinkles, she didn’t show any worries that might slumber within.

‘Mother, you always look beautiful, you know you do. Come on, take my arm and we’ll walk down the stairs together. I love Saturday night because it’s always busy, full of people making the most of their free time and enjoying life.’ Eve smiled and linked her arm through her mother’s as they walked along the landing from their apartment and stood at the top of the stairs. ‘Listen, the band has started. The girls behind the bar will not be able to keep their feet still nor will most of the drinkers. I love watching them doing the Texas Tommy and the Turkey Trot!’

‘I remember the first time I danced with your father. It was on the day we celebrated the birth of the Prince of Wales and soldiers paraded through the city and I knew then and there he was the man for me. I’m glad women are not as restricted as I was when I was growing up, but I do worry that perhaps things have gone too far.’ Mary stepped down the newly decorated stairs and through the lobby, filled with people off the street of Leeds coming to listen to the music in the bar and drink the now-popular cocktails. ‘I don’t know if I’ll get used to this décor, Eve, it’s a bit plain for me, but I was told that art deco is all the rage with its sharp lines and straightforward images. It’s completely different from what I grew up with.’ Mary looked around the lobby and then at Eve.

‘It’s a new age, Mother; after the war and the flu pandemic, everyone knows that life is for living and has to be grasped now. The decoration is wonderful and goes so well in the bar. We can give New York and London a real run for their money – just look at the people flooding in. They know that you are progressive and that you manage the Palace better than any man.’ Eve let go of her mother’s arm as people nodded their heads and politely acknowledged the owner and her daughter.

Mary smiled. ‘You and Toby are a good mixture of me and your father. After my day, I needn’t worry, the Palace will be in good hands.’ She looked across at her son who stood proud and smart in his Palace uniform, with her close friend Nancy, both seeing to guests’ needs. ‘Now, let’s go and treat ourselves to a cocktail. Your father will be laughing somewhere in heaven – he introduced them to the Palace long before you were born but nobody showed any interest in them then. Now it is what we sell the most, in the most outlandish mixtures.’

‘I know, and I must say, I enjoy them. I also enjoy looking at Richard when he makes them in the cocktail shaker and smiles at me with a twinkle in his eye.’ Eve wrinkled her nose and smiled bashfully at her mother.

‘Now, that’s how it begins, so be careful about what you wish for, my darling. Although I know he’s a good man with a good heart and he’ll get my blessing to court you. And while money isn’t everything, it does help and financially, you are your own woman, I’ve made sure of that!’

Mary walked down her well-trodden route into the bar, and every time she walked it she thought about how she had first come to work behind the bar, new to management, and how Faith Robinson had taken an instant dislike to her. Looking back, Faith was probably right to have taken a dislike to her. After all, she had been a threat to her and William. She watched now as Eve flirted with Richard the barman, Nancy’s son, Eve making all the running. She was very much the new generation, dressed like all the rest of the young women in a shimmering shift dress with a headband around her sharply-cut, bobbed hair. They thought nothing of smoking a cheroot in a long holder while they danced around the dance floor. The world was changing and women would hopefully be as strong as any man. Perhaps, Mary thought, she had lived in the best age, when men were in charge – or so they thought. William’s mother, Jill, had been the making of the Winfield empire, although the men in her life would not admit as much and now she herself was running the Palace. Eve came across with a filled cocktail glass in her hand and passed it to her mother.

‘Here, Mother, try this cocktail. It’s called The Last Word – equal parts gin, maraschino, Chartreuse and lime juice – and Richard says it’s selling really fast.’ Eve watched as her mother sipped the new drink slowly.

‘Yes, I can see why!’ Mary smiled. ‘So cheers, and here’s to us, the Gin Palace Girls, long may we rule!’

‘I’ll second that!’ Mary’s mother-in-law, Jill, put her hand on Mary’s shoulder. ‘Plus, I’ll try one of those, they look really good.’

‘Mother, you and Father have decided to join us – I’m so glad.’ Mary turned and kissed Jill and Thomas on their cheeks. They had been her rocks when she had lost the love of her life. They were the closest family in Leeds and she was glad that they had managed, at their age, to join the celebrations.

‘Did you think you could keep us two old codgers away? The Palace and gin will always be in our blood.’ Jill looked at her husband and smiled. She sipped the drink that Eve had quickly got for her grandmother. ‘Cheers, ladies! I am the original Gin Girl, but here’s remembering Eve, your mother, dear Mary, and Nell. They would be so very proud of you all and this fabulous Gin Palace. Cheers, my dears.’