Beowulf
Thomas and his temper if he had his usual breakfast. Yes, it was amusing to reflect that she was probably responsible for his recent promotion. When his colleagues had been evacuated, he had realized so well the horrors of a country billet that he had fought for a transfer and got his Department. Dear Thomas, he was so proud, he thought it was merit!There were no cakes in the Warming Pan window and only a small tray of pastries on the counter inside the entrance. The numerous empty seats were a sign of war. Formerly it had been so crowded at noon that shoppers had often had to share a table. Adelaide glanced round, picked out the best place by the wall, and then, knowing that Alice would be late, she opened her newspaper at the crossword page and felt in her handbag for a pencil. The only people in the room were Mr. Rashleigh, whom she knew by sight, and a few shopgirls. Normally Miss Tippett discouraged them, because it was rather distracting to sit down for a cup of coffee beside the woman who had just been fitting you with shoes; but today everybody was welcome. This part of the West End was absolutely deserted. Seeing a regular customer at last, Selina trotted up, all smiles.
“Good morning, Mrs. Spenser, so you haven’t left London? I was beginning to be afraid that you had joined ‘the great migration’ yourself.”
“Dear me, no! I always preferred a florist’s window to a garden, and I positively hate cows. I suppose the war has made a lot of difference to you? How are things getting on?”
The correct answer should have been “Splendidly, thank you,” but Selina hesitated, in spite of her resolution. “We mustn’t grumble, of course, but the times are a little trying.”
“Unnecessarily so,” Adelaide’s voice was firmer than she intended, “when you think that we could have stopped the whole affair in 1933 with a thousand British policemen.”
“It was hard to know what to do for the best,” Selina ventured cautiously. It was an unbreakable rule, always be neutral with customers. “But I am sure that the Government meant well,” she added loyally, “all of us wanted peace.”
But it isn’t a static thing, Adelaide longed to reply; it isn’t the name of a virtue to be copied out in coloured inks and hung in a school hall. A louse is no respecter of persons; think what a single dirty basement can do to a town. Cause and effect, however, would be rather beyond Selina’s comprehension. “How is your partner?” she inquired instead. Angelina always had such a smart haircut. “I missed her as I came in. I hope she hasn’t left you?”
“Oh, no,” this time Miss Tippett could reply without hesitation, “I really don’t know what I should do without her. She is so very good with the Food Office. I suppose all these regulations are necessary,” she glanced up tentatively because Mrs. Spenser’s husband was in some Ministry, “but I am so stupid, somehow, about forms.”
“Well, they have to find work for all these women volunteers to do, and besides, they love adding another straw to the burden of us poor taxpayers,” though it would be much simpler to tip the butcher, Adelaide thought—and how such a suggestion would shock the Tippett. “I’m waiting for my sister-in-law,” she added, “she went dashing off to the country last June and… it does amuse me… this is the first time she has ventured up, even for the day.”
“I read in the papers this morning that it would take three and a half years of the present raids to demolish London; but I don’t know, sometimes I wonder if we shall have any customers left by the end of the month.” Selina could not help her anxiety showing, but Mrs. Spenser might have a little information. “Do you imagine that the Ministries will set up new departments? They took over Barlow’s in the last war, one of their buyers told me, and had over four hundred clerks there.” It would mean a steady flow of lunches even if they had to provide a cheaper type of meal.
“Hardly in London at the moment.” It was extraordinary, Adelaide thought; one should not exaggerate but the poor old Tippett seemed to have no sense of personal danger. “Still, we have reached our level in this district, all the nervous people must have left.”
It was another rule, never talk too long to a customer, who might get bored or, worse, too communicative. With a final “Well, we are glad to see you here again,” Selina started back towards her pay desk, stopping to greet Rashleigh as she passed him.
Horatio had his special seat and had made an art out of taking an hour for lunch. He was delighted with the invaders; shopgirls chattered so gaily and had such smart clothes. “Don’t bother about my order, Ruby,” he would say, “serve these young ladies first. They are in a hurry and I am a vassal to Time….” Then he would hand the menu card to them with a smile and a little bow, hoping that they would speak to him, which they never did. He wished, he could never say how much he wished, that his dear wife Margaret was alive.
“It’s cold today, I should not be surprised if we had some sleet.”
“Cold, Miss Tippett, it’s freezing! Snow is for the young and for the artist, but at my age, well, all I can think about is summer.” Just saying the word made him see a meadow full of buttercups and wild parsley.
“Yes,” Selina answered a little absently, for it hardly seemed possible that June would ever come again and—had she seen Ruby wiping a fork upon the inside of her dirty apron or was it imagination? Oh, dear, how careless the girls were getting nowadays, but if she spoke to them they started muttering about some factory. “I hope you were not too badly shaken last night?”
“To