Page 46 of The Gathering Storm

CHAPTER SEVEN

With hard work, Dolphin Books managed to relocate into its new premises by the middle of June. The area, in North Acton, had been farmland at the beginning of the century, providing milk, vegetables and hay to the vast market of London, and also, by one of those quirks of history, hosting an unexpected number of mushroom farms. During the war, several munitions factories and army vehicle parks had been sited there, along with a military hospital and a prisoner-of-war camp. After the war, because of the proximity to London and a number of new roads and railways, it had started to develop into what was being called an industrial estate, with nearby housing developments along the Western Avenue and the North Circular Road providing plentiful labour. The last of the farmers sold up, and now factories produced goods as varied as canned food, aircraft parts, ice cream, fountain pens, radio sets, biscuits and agricultural machinery.

Dolphin’s new premises were a plain, two-storey, yellow-brick office building facing the road, with the warehousing and packing facilities at the back around a large yard.

‘Not pretty,’ Charlotte said. ‘But much more comfortable.’

The modern steel-framed windows let in lots of light while keeping out draughts. ‘The saving on electricity will be enormous,’ Molly said. ‘And it’s so clean. No more splintery, dusty old wooden floors.’

‘The outside is bound to look a bit raw when it’s so new,’ said Vivian.

‘The Hoover Building is beautiful. It has actual lawns,’ Charlotte mentioned wistfully. It was a gleaming white modern edifice not far away, which had already become a landmark on the Western Avenue.

‘My dear child, Dolphin Books is not in the same league as the Hoover Company – but we can have a patch of grass at the front and a flowerbed or two once we’ve settled in, if it will make you happier.’

‘There’s quite a lot of research now into working conditions,’ Molly said, ‘that shows workers are more productive if their surroundings are pleasant.’

‘Well, I don’t see what could be nicer than working surrounded by books,’ Charlotte said loyally, and Vivian laughed.

‘And the journey isn’t too bad for us, from Arlington Street, when you take the car,’ Molly said to him. ‘We just have to walk to Bond Street, and it’s straight through on the Central Line.’

‘There was a plan back in 1902 or 1903 to run the Central Line through our own dear Green Park station, which would have been even more convenient,’ Vivian said. ‘What a pity it fell through.’

‘You know such interesting things,’ Charlotte exclaimed.

‘I was talking to an enterprising young man the other day who wants to write a history of the London Underground. I think it would make a perfect book for us, for when we start our non-fiction list.’

‘Reading about the Tube while on the Tube, with a book bought from a slot machine on the Tube platform,’ said Molly. ‘Ouroboros in action.’

‘Heard anything from Milo lately?’ Vivian asked Charlotte.

‘Just a postcard last week,’ Charlotte said. ‘A picture of the Taj Mahal.’ She tried not to let her discontent show, but it had not been an informative postcard. And, in fact, he had sent her the same one a month earlier.

Basil had said helpfully, ‘He probably didn’t even send it himself. I expect he signed a whole batch at once, and left them with some obliging clerk to post at intervals.’

‘Why do you say such horrid things, Basil?’ Charlotte had said crossly.

‘Just trying to keep your feet on the ground, dear. I don’t altogether trust your Lord of the Elves and Assorted Little People.’

‘In the first place, you have no business trusting or not trusting him. He’s not your fiancé—’

‘He’s barely yours,’ Basil interrupted.

Charlotte forgot her second point, and said instead, ‘I wasn’t going to invite you to our wedding, but on second thoughts I shall make you come, just to apologise.’

‘Speaking of weddings, your family is rather cornering the market, wouldn’t you say?’

June, of course, was the month for weddings, and two of Charlotte’s brothers were to tie the knot within a week of each other.

‘I do wonder,’ Charlotte said, ‘whether Robert is doing it to show Richard up. Richard’s will be such a little thing, and Robert’s so grand.’

‘It would make for a much better plot if he was inspired by malice. But remember it’s the bride’s family who do all the wedding stuff – the groom just has to turn up.’

‘Mummy says Robert still hasn’t replied to the invitation, so I suppose that means he’s not coming.’

‘It seems not. Richard has asked me to be his supporter.’

‘Do they have supporters at a register-office wedding?’