Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however, we are just a short distance from Cavendish Mews, at Mr. Willison’s grocers’ shop. Willison’s Grocers in Mayfair is where Lettice has an account, and it is from here that Edith, Lettice's maid, orders her groceries for the Cavendish Mews flat, except on special occasions, when professional London caterers are used. Mr. Willison prides himself in having a genteel, upper-class clientele including the households of many titled aristocrats who have houses and flats in the neighbourhood, and he makes sure that his shop is always tidy, his shelves well stocked with anything the cook of a duke or duchess may want, and staff who are polite and mannerly to all his important customers. The latter is not too difficult, for aside from himself, Mrs. Willison does his books, his daughter Henrietta helps on Saturdays and sometimes after she has finished school, which means Mr. Willison technically only employs one member of staff: Frank Leadbetter his delivery boy who carries orders about Mayfair on the bicycle provided for him by Mr. Willison. He also collects payments for accounts which are not settled in his Binney Street shop whilst on his rounds.
Lettice’s maid, Edith, is stepping out with Frank. Whilst Edith made a wonderful impression when she met Mrs. McTavish, her young beau Frank Leadbetter’s grandmother, less can be said for Frank who whilst pleasing Edith’s father, rubbed her mother the wrong way at the Sunday roast lunch Edith organised with her parents to meet Frank. Ever since then, Frank has been filled with remorse for speaking his mind a little more freely than he ought to have in front of Edith’s mother. Finally, Edith hit upon a possible solution to their problem, which is to introduce Mrs. McTavish to her parents. Being a kindly old lady who makes lace, with impeccable manners, Edith and Frank both hope that Mrs. McTavish will be able to impress upon Edith’s mother what a nice young man Frank is, in spite of his more forward-thinking ideas, which jar with her ways of thinking, and assure her how happy he makes Edith. After careful planning, today was the day that Edith raised the idea with her parents in their kitchen in Harlesden, and the response from Edith’s mother was most encouraging. Now Edith cannot wait to tell Frank the good news, so she takes a circuitous route from Down Street Railway Station* to Cavendish Mews so that she can walk past Willison’s Grocers in the hope of seeing Frank.
As she nears the grocer’s shop, she notices the side delivery door opening and hears the cheerful sound of Frank’s whistle accompanied by the click of chainrings and whir of the spokes of his Willison’s Grocers delivery bicycle. He wheels the smart black bicycle with a wicker basket on the front out and leans it against the brick wall of the grocers. Edith notices the basket is full of groceries, so she is lucky to have caught him as he prepares to make a delivery within the neighbourhood. Frank closes the door behind him and walks his bicycle up the alleyway towards the front of the shop, and unknowingly towards Edith, who stands on the street opposite the shopfront.
“Frank!” Edith calls. “Frank!” She waves her handkerchief at her beau to catch his attention as he looks around to see where her voice is coming from. Looking up the street to make sure there is no traffic coming, she scuttles across the road and joins Frank out the front of the grocers which is plastered with advertisements for different household products and pantry staples.
“Edith! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” Frank says with a beaming smile as he gazes across at her. “I’m afraid I’m just about to dash out on a delivery for the Duchess of Maybury’s cook.”
“Yes,” Edith nods towards the basket on the front of the bicycle in which sits a Willison’s shopping bag full of groceries. A bottle top with a gleaming lid and a leafy head of romaine lettuce poke out of it, “I can see that Frank.”
“Oh it’s alright,” Frank replies. “I can tarry for a few minutes,” He looks anxiously over his left shoulder to the shop window behind him which is stacked full of produce and colourful advertising posters: his latest window display. “So long as old Mrs. Willison doesn’t catch us. You know what she’ll think.” He raises his eyebrows.
“Yes,” Edith sighs knowingly. “That we’re lowering the tone of the establishment by fraternising out the front.”
“Exactly.” Frank agrees with a quick nod of ascent. “So, quickly, before I push off to Grosvenor Square**, what can I do for my best girl on a Wednesday afternoon? A jar of black Astrakhan caviar***? Or,” He delves into the paper shopping bag like a magician reaching into his magical top hat, making it crumple noisily in the process. “A packet of Rowntree’s Jelly Crystals****?” he asks, withdrawing a prettily decorated box with the name emblazoned in cursive writing over a drawing of cornucopia of fruits spilling across a table. He sniffs the box theatrically, as if he can smell every fruit illustrated on the front of the box.
“Oh get away with you, Frank!” giggles Edith prettily as she swats at him kittenishly. “No, I’ve just come to tell you that everything went well this afternoon, Frank.” She beams proudly.
Frank’s face crumples as he looks into his sweetheart’s happy and expectant face as he tries to recollect what she is talking about. After a few minutes deliberation he gives up. “What went well, Edith?”
“Oh Frank!” she sighs in exasperation, her smile falling away as disappointment clouds her face. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember!”
He shrugs his shoulders, the v in his knitted vest rising and falling about his neck as he does.
“You don’t remember, then.” Edith mutters, shaking her head in disbelief. “You are impossible sometimes, Frank Leadbetter!” she tuts. “I went to talk to Mum today,” She pauses. “About having your granny over for lunch one Sunday. Remember?”
“Oh!” Frank’s eyes grow wide and clear as he recollects the conversation that Edith had with him on Sunday as they waited in the queue for a table at the Lyons Corner House***** on Tottenham Court Road. “Oh yes! How did it go then?”
“Splendidly, Frank!” Edith enthuses, restoring her good humour, rising up on her toes in pleasure. “In fact, it went better than I’d hoped for.”
“So your mum said yes then?”
“She did!” Edith acknowledges. “And best of all, Dad was home then too, and he’s just as pleased about meeting her as Mum is. He said it was ‘a capital idea’! Now what do you think of that then?”
“That sounds spiffing, Edith!” Frank replies excitedly with a slightly quavering laugh.
“And Mum agreed because she knows as well as Dad that we’re serious about one another, so she agreed. I said that your granny wasn’t up to hosting lunch herself, being older and all… oh, and I told Mum about her bad teeth not being up to lots of chewing. So, Mum said she’s make one of her beef stews with suet dumplings.”
“Oh Gran will like that.”
“Yes, I thought she would.”
“I will too.” adds Frank with a smirk.
“And Mum said that she’d make her cherry pie for you, since you like it so much.”
“Oh ripping!” exclaims Frank. “Well, that is a turn up for the books!” He pauses and thinks. “Perhaps I actually made a better impression on her than I thought I had, if she’s willing to bake me her cherry pie.”
“Well, thinking of making a good impression, I think that we had better have a word with your granny about what happened when you came over for lunch.”
“About me rubbing your mum up the wrong way, do you mean?”
“Well, yes Frank.” Edith mutters guiltily. She quickly looks up into his youthful face. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that. I want us to all put our best foot forward this time. We don’t want any mistakes. If we’re honest with your granny, she’ll understand that to help us aid your cause, she can say all those nice things that she does. We won’t be asking her to lie to Mum, just… just…”
“Gild the lily?” Frank proffers hopefully.
“Gild the what?”
Frank chuckles. “It means to praise something highly. To talk it up.”
“You do have some funny turns of phrase sometimes, Frank.” Edith laughs.
“I guess it comes from reading all those books I do.”
“I expect so. I love it though, Frank. I never know what you’re going to say, and I always learn something new.”
“Well, I’m glad you find me educational, if nothing else.” Frank says teasingly, fishing for a compliment.
“Oh, you know I find much more in you than someone to educate me, Frank!” Edith replies with a shy smile. “Anyway, going back to what we were saying just before, if we get your granny to talk you up a bit in front of Mum, gild the… the…”
“Lily, Edith.”
“Yes, that,” Edith gesticulates as if pushing it aside. “Then it can’t do any harm. Can it?”
“I suppose not.” Frank shrugs.
“Of course it can’t, Frank, and it will help Mum look on you more favourably as my beau, and her future son-in-law… one day.” Edith adds quickly, seeing the surprise in Frank’s eyes. The pair have agreed that they want to save some money first between them before they officially become engaged.
“So how to do we arrange it then, Edith?”
“Well, Mum told me to have a chat with you and your granny. Then I can let her know by sending her a postcard****** between now and next Wednesday with details as to what she says. So, maybe you and I should give up going to the pictures this Sunday and go and have a chat with her instead. What do you think, Frank?”
“I think it sounds like a fine plan, Edith.”
Suddenly there is a loud rapping on the glass. Edith and Frank both turn with wide and startled eyes and see a steely faced Mrs. Willison peering at them through a small amount of exposed glass in the grocer’s window. She suspiciously eyes the pair through her pince-nez*******. Her face disappears into the dark inner gloom of the shop. Then the alert bell rings cheerily as she opens the plate glass door with Mr. Willison’s name painted in neat gilt lettering upon it. Stepping across the threshold she stands astride the stoop, half in, half out of the shop, and folds her arms akimbo. Edith looks up, unnerved, at the proprietor’s wife and bookkeeper, her upswept hairstyle as old fashioned as her high necked starched shirtwaister******** blouse down the front of which runs a long string of faceted jet black beads.
“Good afternoon, Miss Watsford. May I help you?” Mrs. Willison asks haughtily, her eyes drifting meaningfully to the table in front of the window covered in boxes containing onions, carrots, potatoes, apples and oranges. “Is there something we have missed from your order for the Honourable Miss Chetwynd earlier in the week?”
“Err… no, Mrs. Willison,” Edith manages to stammer under the sharp gaze of the old Edwardian shopkeeper. “I was… was, just…”
“Then I strongly suggest you go about your business, Miss Watsford, and stop tarrying in front of my husband’s establishment, fraternising with Mr. Leadbetter in the public thoroughfare.” Mrs. Willison scrutinises Edith’s fashionable and brightly coloured frock with the pretty lace collar. The hem of the skirt is following the current style and sits higher than any of Mrs. Willison’s own dresses and it reveals Edith’s shapely stockinged calves. She wears her black straw cloche decorated with purple silk roses and black feathers over her neatly pinned chignon. “What you both choose to do on your days off is your own affair, but I do not want Willison’s to gain a reputation of ill repute as a meeting place for young people with idle time on their hands.” She turns her attentions to Frank. “I thought I saw you leaving for Grosvenor Square a little while ago, Mr. Leadbetter. You should have been back by now since it’s only around the corner, but I can see by the basket that you haven’t been there yet.”
Err… yes, I mean, no, Mrs. Willison.” Frank stammers.
“Mrs. Dulwich will be expecting you.” Mrs. Willison says matter-of-factly, her voice moderate and her tone even. “We don’t want Her Grace waiting for her dinner now, do we?”
“Err… no, Mrs, Willison.” Frank replies in sheepish apology.
“Then off you!” replies Mrs. Willison crisply, clapping her hands. “Quick sticks!”
“We’ll meet on Sunday, “ Frank says as he hurriedly adjusts his cap on his head. “I’ll let Gran know to be expecting us both.”
Then without tarrying any longer, Frank gets astride his bicycle and starts off down the road away from the grocers, heading south down Binney Street towards Grosvenor Square. With one final peevish look at Edith, Mrs. Willison steps back into the darkness of her shop’s interior, and allows the door to close behind her, the bell tinkling prettily as she does.
Left on her own, Edith begins to walk the short distance back to Cavendish Mews. Usually after such a rebuke as that she received from Mrs. Willison, Edith would be upset, but today, with the good news that her mother will host luncheon for Mrs. McTavish, she has a spring in her step. There is a lightness in her heart that everything is going to begin to fall nicely into place for she and Frank as their relationship strengthens and their bond grows deeper.
*Once part of the Great Northern Piccadilly and Brompton Railway – which gave rise to the modern Piccadilly line, Down Street station was closed in 1932, a mere twenty-five years after opening. Squashed quite closely between Hyde Park Corner and Dover Street (now known as Green Park), it suffered from low passenger numbers due to both the proximity of its neighbours, and the wealth of its local residents, who could afford more comfortable means of transport. Down Street wasn’t out of action for too long, however; in 1939, it was earmarked for use during the war effort. Once the platforms were bricked up, it was home to the Railway Executive Committee, before playing host to Winston Churchill and his War Cabinet before the Cabinet War Rooms were built – Churchill was known to affectionately refer to it as “The Barn”. There was no further use for it after the war, which means Down Street has stood empty ever since.
**Grosvenor Square is a large garden square in the Mayfair district of Westminster, Greater London. It is the centrepiece of the Mayfair property of the Duke of Westminster, and takes its name from the duke's surname "Grosvenor". It was developed for fashionable residences in the Eighteenth Century.
***Astrakhan caviar combines high quality Ossetra and Siberian caviar. According to testimonies it has “a wonderful nutty flavour, and a pleasant iodine finish”.
****Founded by Henry Isaac Rowntree in Castlegate in York in 1862, Rowntree's developed strong associations with Quaker philanthropy. Throughout much of the Nineteenth and Twentieth centuries, it was one of the big three confectionery manufacturers in the United Kingdom, alongside Cadbury and Fry, both also founded by Quakers. In 1981, Rowntree's received the Queen's Award for Enterprise for outstanding contribution to international trade. In 1988, when the company was acquired by Nestlé, it was the fourth-largest confectionery manufacturer in the world. The Rowntree brand continues to be used to market Nestlé's jelly sweet brands, such as Fruit Pastilles and Fruit Gums, and is still based in York.
*****J. Lyons and Co. was a British restaurant chain, food manufacturing, and hotel conglomerate founded in 1884 by Joseph Lyons and his brothers in law, Isidore and Montague Gluckstein. Lyons’ first teashop opened in Piccadilly in 1894, and from 1909 they developed into a chain of teashops, with the firm becoming a staple of the High Street in the United Kingdom. At its peak the chain numbered around two hundred cafes. The teashops provided for tea and coffee, with food choices consisting of hot dishes and sweets, cold dishes and sweets, and buns, cakes and rolls. Lyons' Corner Houses, which first appeared in 1909 and remained until 1977, were noted for their Art Deco style. Situated on or near the corners of Coventry Street, Strand and Tottenham Court Road, they and the Maison Lyonses at Marble Arch and in Shaftesbury Avenue were large buildings on four or five floors, the ground floor of which was a food hall with counters for delicatessen, sweets and chocolates, cakes, fruit, flowers and other products. In addition, they possessed hairdressing salons, telephone booths, theatre booking agencies and at one period a twice-a-day food delivery service. On the other floors were several restaurants, each with a different theme and all with their own musicians. For a time, the Corner Houses were open twenty-four hours a day, and at their peak each branch employed around four hundred staff including their famous waitresses, commonly known as Nippies for the way they nipped in and out between the tables taking orders and serving meals. The tea houses featured window displays, and, in the post-war period, the Corner Houses were smarter and grander than the local tea shops. Between 1896 and 1965 Lyons owned the Trocadero, which was similar in size and style to the Corner Houses.
******One hundred years ago, postcards were the most common and easiest way to communicate with loved ones not only across countries whilst on holidays, but across neighbourhoods on a daily basis ‘de leurs jours’ with the minutiae of life on them. This is because unlike today where mail is delivered on a daily basis or , there were several deliveries done a day. At the height of the postcard mania in 1903, London residents could have as many as twelve separate visits from the mailman. This means that people in the early Twentieth Century amassed vast collections of picture postcards which today are highly collectible depending upon their theme.
*******Pince-nez is a style of glasses, popular in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries, that are supported without earpieces, by pinching the bridge of the nose. The name comes from French pincer, "to pinch", and nez, "nose".
********A shirtwaister is a woman's dress with a seam at the waist, its bodice incorporating a collar and button fastening in the style of a shirt which gained popularity with women entering the workforce to do clerical work in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries.
This cluttered, yet cheerful Edwardian shopfront is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
Frank’s black metal delivery bicycle with its basket on the front came from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom. The sign on the body of the bicycle I made myself with the aid of the brown paper bag in the front of the basket which bears the name “Walter Willison’s Tea and Grocery”. The paper bag is actually filled with grocery items, which along with the bag were made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.
Edith’s green leather handbag leaning against the bicycle I acquired as part of a larger collection of 1:12 artistan miniature hats, bags and accessories I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel. Her small wicker basket I acquired from an online stockist of miniatures on E-Bay.
The onions, carrots, potatoes and oranges on the display table all come from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering, and are just some of the dizzying and ever growing array of realistic looking fruit and vegetables in 1:12 scale that they supply to collectors. Also on the display table is a box of apples which are all very realistic looking. Made of polymer clay they are made by a 1:12 miniature specialist in Germany. The white cloth bags at the base of the table I have had since I was a teenager. The romaine lettuce in the bicycle basket and in the wicker basket on the ground I acquired from an auction house some years ago as part of a lot of hand made artisan miniatures. The bag of carrots came from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop. The wooden boxes the fruit and vegetables are in, the basket with the greenery in it and the pottery jug all came from the same 1:12 miniatures supplier online that Edith’s basket came from.
The tree that is blurred in the foreground and the red metal wall mounted letterbox both came from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom.
The advertisements along the wall of the shop are all 1:12 size posters made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Ken is known mostly for the 1;12 miniature books he created. I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but he also produced other items, including posters. All of these are genuine copies of real Edwardian posters. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make these items miniature artisan pieces. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
A co-operative wholesale society, or CWS, is a form of co-operative federation (that is, a co-operative in which all the members are co-operatives), in this case, the members are usually consumer cooperatives. The best historical examples of this are the English CWS and the Scottish CWS, which are the predecessors of the 21st century Co-operative Group. Indeed, in Britain, the terms Co-operative Wholesale Society and CWS are used to refer to this specific organisation rather than the organisational form. They sold things like tea and cocoa. The English and Scottish Co-operative Wholesale Society opened its own new Luton cocoa factory in 1902. The factory was demolished in 1970.
W.D. & H.O. Wills was a British tobacco manufacturing company formed in Bristol.. It was the first British company to mass-produce cigarettes, and one of the founding companies of Imperial Tobacco along with John Player & Sons. Brands they manufactured included Cinderella Cigarettes and Firefly Cigarettes.