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 following Lettice’s maid, Edith, who together with her beau, local grocery delivery boy Frank Leadbetter, have wended their way north-east from Cavendish Mews, through neighbouring Soho to the Lyons Corner House* on the corner of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road. As always, the flagship restaurant on the first floor is a hive of activity with all the white linen covered tables occupied by Londoners indulging in the treat of a Lyon’s luncheon or early afternoon tea. Between the tightly packed tables, the Lyons waitresses, known as Nippies**, live up to their name and nip in and out, showing diners to empty tables, taking orders, placing food on tables and clearing and resetting them after diners have left. The cavernous space with its fashionable Art Deco wallpapers and light fixtures and dark Queen Anne English style furnishing is alive with colour, movement and the burbling noises of hundreds of chattering voices, the sound of cutlery against crockery and the clink of crockery and glassware fills the air brightly.
Amidst all the comings and goings, Edith and Frank sit at a table for two just adjunct to one of the glass fronted cabinets filled with delicious cakes on display. On the table before them, a Nippie has just placed a pot of tea in a silver pot with a Bakelite*** handle and two slices of a Victoria sponge.
“I say,” Edith remarks a she slips her fork easily through the light and fluffy sponge cake, causing the jam and cream filling between the two layers to ooze out the sides. “This is a lovely treat, Frank.”
“Well, we have so much to celebrate, Edith.” Frank says with a beaming smile as he takes up his own fork.
“Oh yes!” Edith enthuses. “I agree: so much!” She pops a small slice of sponge in her mouth and emits a sigh of happiness as she tastes the light and sweet cake on her tongue.
“I’m so glad you do, Edith.” Frank remarks as his fork slices through his slice of sponge. “Although,” he admits. “I am a little surprised.”
“Surprised, Frank? Why on earth would you be surprised?” Edith laughs happily after swallowing her mouthful.
“I just am. I wasn’t expecting you to be so enthusiastic about it as me.”
“Frank,” Edith puts down her fork and leans across the linen covered table and grasps her beau’s left hand as it sits idly on the table next to his gilt edged plate and squeezes it. “Why wouldn’t I be enthusiastic? Christmas Day was such a wonderful success.”
“Christmas Day?” Frank gives his sweetheart a quizzical look.
“Well of course, Christmas Day!” Edith laughs. “It wasn’t that long ago that you have forgotten – at least I do hope not, Frank! I know I won’t forget it in a hurry.” Edith beams across the table at Frank. “It was such a special day, and everything went so perfectly well. Your Gran is such a card! She had us all laughing so much.”
“Yes,” Frank remarks desultory tone. “Partially at my expense. I can’t believe she shared such embarrassing stories about me at Christmas as a little boy. How was I to know as a four year old that Dad was fibbing when he said he heard Father Christmas in the bread oven!”
“Oh I think it was a charming story, Frank.” Edith sooths with a happy smile. “And so were all the others.”
“Humph!” Frank mutters. “That’s only because they weren’t about you.”
“I’m sure Mum and Dad will share plenty of embarrassing stories from my childhood before too long: Dad especially. He enjoys doing that. Anyway, your Gran’s stories were wonderful to help keep Mum on our side and laughing. She knows now that even as a little boy, you were sweet natured and good, just like I know you to be as a young man. And of course, you had Dad eating out of your palm when you gave him that copy of ‘The Murder on the Links’**** by Agatha Christie as his Christmas present.”
“He could hardly believe his eyes when he unwrapped it.”
“Well, you know as well as anyone, Frank, that books are an expensive luxury. Seven and six is nothing to scoff about.”
“That’s true, but you didn’t pay seven and six for it.” Frank pauses for a brief moment. “Did you Edith?”
“No, of course I didn’t, Frank. Miss Lettice gave me the details of her special bookman, Mr. Mayhew***** in Charring Cross who happens to do a brisque trade in well priced seconds of newly printed books out his back door. It only cost three and six.”
Frank sits back against the high Queen Anne back of his chair in relief. “Thank goodness, because that’s all I paid you for it.”
“Of course!” Edith retorts. “Don’t you think for one moment as a hard working maid that I’m going to martyr my wages to subsidise your Christmas spending, Frank Leadbetter.”
“That’s my best girl!” Frank sighs. “Independent and forthright – just two of the many reasons why I love you, Edith Watsford.”
“Well, I’m pleased you like those traits, Frank, because Mum always told me that my ‘forthrightness’ as you so kindly put it, wouldn’t do me any favours when it came to finding a suitable match.”
“Well, it just shows that your Mum never met a chap like me before.”
“And isn’t that the truth, Frank.” Edith giggles.
Frank laughs good naturedly along with his sweetheart.
“And your Mum certainly knows how to make a wonderful Christmas dinner, Edith.”
“Well, like you have Miss Lettice and Mr. Mayhew to thank for the discounted price of the book you gave Dad for Christmas, I have you to thank for the directing me to Mr. Langham to buy our Christmas turkey.”
“It did go down a treat.” Frank remarks. “Your mum roasted it to perfection.”
“With my help, thank you Frank!”
“Oh of course with your help, Edith! I’d never deny your cooking prowess. You learned from the best cook in the world.”
“I did.”
“How did your parents take to you providing them with the family’s Christmas turkey anyway? I never had a chance to ask you discreetly on Christmas Day.”
“Oh Dad was amazed by the size and weight of it when it arrived, and Mum was just tickled pink****** to think that her daughter provided such a fine turkey for Christmas Day. When I said that I wanted to arrange a bird for Christmas, I think she was expecting me to provide a roast chicken.” Edith giggles again.
“Well that just shows how determined you are, not to settle for a chicken, when you can have turkey.”
“More of that determination you like in me, Frank” Edith giggles.
Frank joins in with her laughter yet again before the pair fall into a companionable silence for a little while as they eat some more of their delicious slices of Victoria Sponge, whilst around them the vociferous burble of London diners, the clatter of crockery and scraping of plates echoes through the capacious dining hall.
“More tea?” Edith asks at length, picking up the gleaming silver pot by the black handle and directing it towards Frank’s half empty tea cup.
“I don’t mind if I do.” Frank holds his cup aloft and dangles it closer to make it easier for Edith to fill.
“Let’s make a toast.” Edith remarks, filling her own cup before adding milk and sugar.
“Oh yes! Let’s!” Frank agrees as he finishes his mouthful of cake.
“To a successful Christmas, and a successful 1924 for us, dear Frank.” Edith says with a broad smile as she stares into her beau’s eyes and holds up her cup.
“And to Ramsay MacDonald, our first Labour Prime Minister.” Frank adds, clipping Edith’s cup with his own.
“What?” Edith queries.
Frank returns his cup to its saucer and clears his throat guiltily as he looks down into his lap and wipes his fingers on the linen serviette draped across his thighs. “Well, you see Edith,” he admits awkwardly. “That was why I was surprised when you said you agreed that we had much to celebrate.”
“Well, as wew were just saying, there is much to celebrate about cementing our relationship in Mum and Dad’s eyes, Frank.”
“I know that Edith, and don’t get cross with me, please.” he looks his sweetheart squarely in the face.
“Oh-oh.” Edith remarks, settling back slightly in her chair and delicately folding her arms akimbo as her face clouds over, washing away her happy demeanour. “This sounds like it doesn’t bode well.” She cocks an eyebrow at Frank. “So what is it I’m not to get cross about then, Frank?”
“Well, I wanted to celebrate our first Labour government today. That’s why I invited you out for tea at Lyons.”
“And not to celebrate our first successful Christmas Day together?” Edith asks, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice as her mouth falls open.
“Well, that too, obviously.” Frank blurts out hurriedly.
“Obviously.” Edith replies in a non-committal fashion, clearly seeing through Frank’s backtracking.
“Oh please don’t be cross with me, Edith!” Frank implores. “It’s the last thing I should want, but don’t you see what a momentous occasion it is to have a Labour Prime Minister?”
“You’d better enlighten me, Frank. Please pardon my ignorance in regards to politics and the government, but as you know only too well, I don’t have the vote*******, as I’m not deemed worthy enough to be given the chance to have my say.”
“Now don’t take on so, Edith. If I had my way, I’d let you cast a vote, and your mum and my Gran.”
Edith softens at Frank’s declaration and unfolds her arms. She stabs at her cake, causing the slice to fall on its side, off centre on the white porcelain of the gilt and patterned edged plate. “I know you would Frank. I’m not cross with you, but I am cross with our government, no matter who they are, for not giving us the vote, after all, there are more women than men in Britain now, thanks to the horrors of the war.”
“I know, Edith,” Frank murmurs softly. “Like I said, I’d give a woman as smart as you the vote any day.”
“Oh, you know I’m not very political,” Edith assures Frank, yet at the same time self consciously toys with her blonde waves as she speaks. “You’d better tell me why it is so good that we now have a Labour Prime Minister.” She blushes with mild embarrassment at her own ignorance.
“Well,” Frank begins, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he prepares to talk about one of his passions. “Ramsay MacDonald is the first Prime Minister we’ve ever had from a working class background, so it stands to reason that he will create social change, even with a minority government********, for working class people like us.”
“Is this what you keep saying when you say that now is the time for people like us, Frank?”
“Well, sort of, Edith. I think Ramsay MacDonald will help aid the plight of the poor working man and help them to better themselves, and that has to be a good thing.”
“Well then, I think it’s most appropriate we raised a toast to Mr. MacDonald and his Labour government, Frank.”
“Thank you for trying to understand my passions, Edith. You really are a ripping girl, you know.”
“I know.” Edith blushes, before adding, “And it isn’t just my Mum who has never met the likes of you, Frank Leadbetter. I’m quite sure that you are going to do something fine in this world to make a difference to the lives of others too.”
“Goodness!” Frank gasps. “Do you really think so, Edith?”
“I do, Frank.” Edith opines. “I don’t quite know how you will, but I just have a feeling.”
“Thanks ever so, Edith.” Frank sighs.
“So,” Edith looks down meaningly fully at Frank’s plate. “Best you finish up your cake. No soldier ever won a war on an empty stomach.”
“And since I’m paying,” Frank begins.
“Only half, Frank.” Edith interrupts. “My forthright self is telling me that today, in solidarity with all working men and women, I should pay my fair share.” She nods seriously. “And let that be an end to it.”
“Very well, my forthright and honest sweetheart.” Frank agrees. “But just today in honour of our new government. Next week it shall be my treat.”
*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.
**The name 'Nippies' was adopted for the Lyons waitresses after a competition to rename them from the old fashioned 'Gladys' moniker - rejected suggestions included ‘Sybil-at-your-service’, ‘Miss Nimble’, Miss Natty’ and 'Speedwell'. The waitresses each wore a starched cap with a red ‘L’ embroidered in the centre and a black alpaca dress with a double row of pearl buttons.
***Bakelite, was the first plastic made from synthetic components. Patented on December 7, 1909, the creation of a synthetic plastic was revolutionary for its electrical nonconductivity and heat-resistant properties in electrical insulators, radio and telephone casings and such diverse products as kitchenware, jewellery, pipe stems, teapot handles, children's toys, and firearms. A plethora of items were manufactured using Bakelite in the 1920s and 1930s.
****By 1924 when this story is set, detective mystery fiction writer Agatha Christie had already written two successful novels, ‘The Mysterious Affair at Styles’ published by The Bodley Head in 1921, which introduced the world to her fictional detective Hercule Poirot, and ‘The Secret Adversary’ also published by The Bodley Head, in 1922, which introduced characters Tommy and Tuppence. In May of 1923, Agatha Christie would release her second novel featuring Hercule Poirot: ‘The Murder on the Links’ which would retail in London bookshops for seven shillings and sixpence.
*****A. H. Mayhew was once one of many bookshops located in London’s Charring Cross Road, an area still famous today for its bookshops, perhaps most famously written about by American authoress Helene Hanff who wrote ’84, Charing Cross Road’, which later became a play and then a 1987 film starring Anne Bancroft and Anthony Hopkins. Number 56. Charing Cross Road was the home of Mayhew’s second-hand and rare bookshop. Closed after the war, their premises is now the home of Any Amount of Books bookshop.
******The phrase “tickled pink” is used to denote that someone is expressing delight. The first term, first recorded in 1922, alludes to one's face turning pink with laughter when one is being tickled. The variant, clearly a hyperbole, dates from about 1800.
*******In 1924 when this story is set, not every woman in Britain had the right to vote. In 1918 the Representation of the People Act was passed which allowed women over the age of thirty who met a property qualification to vote. Although eight and a half million women met this criteria, it was only about two-thirds of the total population of women in Britain. It was not until the Equal Franchise Act of 1928 that women over twenty-one were able to vote and women finally achieved the same voting rights as men. This act increased the number of women eligible to vote to fifteen million.
********On the 22nd of January, Ramsay MacDonald became the first Labour Prime Minister in Britain, leading a minority government, following Stanley Baldwin’s resignation after his government lost a vote of no confidence in the debate on the King’s Speech in January 1924. King George V called on Ramsay MacDonald to form a minority Labour government, with the tacit support of the Liberals under Asquith from the corner benches. On the 22nd of January 1924, he took office as the first Labour Prime Minister, the first from a working-class background and one of the very few without a university education. The Government lasted only nine months and did not have a majority in either House of the Parliament, but it was still able to support the unemployed with the extension of benefits and amendments to the Insurance Acts. The Housing Act was also passed during this first term of a Labour government, which greatly expanded municipal housing for low paid workers.
An afternoon tea made up with tea and a slice of Victoria Sponge like this would be enough to please anyone, but I suspect that even if you ate everything you can see here on the table in and in the display case in the background, you would still come away hungry. This is because they, like everything in this scene are 1:12 size miniatures from my miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau:
The slices of Victoria sponge (named after Queen Victoria) on the plates is made by Polly’s Pantry Miniatures in America. The coffee pot with its ornate handle and engraved body is one of three antique Colonial Craftsman pots I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom, as is the silver tray on which they stand. The milk jug and sugar bowl are made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The Lyons Corner House crockery is made by the Dolls’ House emporium and was acquired from an online stockist of miniatures on E-Bay. The J. Lyons & Co. Ltd. tariff in the foreground is a copy of a 1920s example that I made myself by reducing it in size and printing it. Edith’s handbag handmade from soft leather is part of a larger collection of hats and bags that I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The table on which all these items stand is a Queen Anne lamp table which I was given for my seventh birthday. It is one of the very first miniature pieces of furniture I was ever given as a child. The Queen Anne dining chairs were all given to me as a Christmas present when I was around the same age.
In the background is a display case of cakes. The sweet cupcakes on the glass cake stand have been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. The pink blancmange rabbit on the bottom shelf of the display cabinet in the front of the right-hand side of the case was made by Polly’s Pantry Miniatures in America. All the other cakes came from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom. The glass and metal cake stands and the glass cloche came from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The glass cake stands are hand blown artisan pieces. The shiny brass cash register also comes from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures.
The wood and glass display cabinet I obtained from a seller of 1:12 miniatures on E-Bay.
