The Quid Pro Quo

Tea and Suffrage in early twentieth century England

This week, let’s once again talk about tea. If you’ve read any of my books, any at all, you know my characters seem to spend an inordinate amount of time drinking it. And in The Quid Pro Quo, Simon also spends a lot of time having sandwiches or steak and kidney pie at the ABC Tea Rooms. I haven’t written them into stories before–I’m usually a Lyons Corner House sort of historical writer!—but I thought why not ring the changes?

food wood dawn coffee — Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Tea rooms and cafes are such a banal part of our existence now…but in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century they were actually part of a quiet social revolution, because–shock! horror!–women could use them unaccompanied. Nice women avoided pubs, and restaurants were off limits-women without male companions would be turned away.

The ABC tearoom phenomena began in London in the 1880s. ABC stands for Aerated Bread Company. The business was founded in 1882. They made bread without yeast, using compressed carbon dioxide instead to make the bread rise (it sounds yukky). They rapidly expanded with bakeries selling to the general public all across London in the next couple of years and one day someone had the bright idea of also selling tea and snacks to the customers. The first Lyons was opened in 1894 and to keep their market share, ABC began selling home-cooked meals.

By 1923, ABC had 250 tea-shops all over the world and Lyons had 240 in the UK. They both sold light meals. Both establishments were popular with clerical workers at lunch time and theatre and cinema goers in the evenings. However, the really extraordinary thing about them in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century was their connection to the women’s suffrage movement.

It was a momentous thing for women at the time, to simply get out and meet each other over a cup of tea and not be harassed or accused of soliciting. And this new freedom of movement and opening up of public spaces they could access brought great strides to both their social existence and their political one. You can read more about the connection between the suffrage movement and tea-rooms here. There were many smaller, independent establishments as well as ABC and Lyons, but the point of a chain is that it’s familiar and comfortable. And that must have made those early women adventurers into the world of unsupervised public expeditions more confident when they ventured out.

The suffrage connection to the teashops must have also impacted the tea-shop staff, because there was obviously a sense of comradeship between them. ABC employees worked a sixty-two hour week and pay was low. Lyons women went on strike to protest their own low wages in 1895. This is newsreel footage of striking Lyons employees from the 1920s. They apparently went out in support of someone who was dismissed for wearing her union badge at work. (Look at the hats—this was obviously just before the advent of the cloche!)

The final thing I should mention is that the Lyons Corner House at Coventry Street, London, was a well-known meeting place for gay men during the first three decades of the twentieth century. (From Matt Houlbrook’s Queer London). The waitresses seated women and families away from The Lily Pond at the far end of the room.

So, remember, when you pop in to a tea-shop for a cuppa whilst you’re shopping–you’re actually visiting what began as a radical space!

Ouija Boards in the post-WW1 period

The plot of The Quid Pro Quo features a Ouija Board session that causes stuff to happen. I thought I knew all about them, but when I came to do a bit of research into what my 1920s characters would have known and thought about them, it turns out I didn’t know as much as I thought.

Vintage Ouija Boards (downloadable from etsy)

Ouija boards are an ancient way of contacting spirits, appropriated and twisted by the western world from another culture that uses them responsibly as part of their spiritual practice, right?

(Imagine a gong ringing here, if you would)

Wrong! Wrong in all the ways!

The roots of the Ouija Board lie in the mid-Western state of Ohio in the 1880s. Their use wasn’t at all incompatible with Christianity and grew out of the interest in Spiritualism that swept across the US after the Fox Sisters in New York State became a national sensation in the 1840s. After the Civil War, the US was in collective mourning for a long time. Having an easier way to talk to the spirits of loved ones rather than being dependent on a medium was presumably how the concept of a board and planchette arrangement originally came about.

In the 1890s the idea was picked up by a couple of smart businessmen, who set up the Kennard Novelty Company in Maryland to manufacture a ‘talking board’ as a parlour game. The name Ouija came from the sister-in-law of one of them, Helen Peters. She was a medium and the name came to her during a session with the ‘talking board’ itself. The spirit she was speaking with told her it meant ‘good luck’. However…at the time of the communication, Peters said she was wearing a locket with the picture and name of the novelist Ouida*. Make of that what you will!

Interest in both Spiritualism and the Ouija waxed and waned over the next two or three decades. Then in short order the world was hit by 1914-1918 world war and the 1918 influenza pandemic. Millions of people died and there was an explosion of interest in the ostensible comforts offered by talking to the dead.

So, at the time my story is set, talking to dead people and to a lesser extent communicating with spirits and angels and entities was a perfectly respectable occupation. Arthur Conan Doyle was a great believer in Spiritualism and Queen Victoria is said to have held several seances to attempt to contact Prince Albert. The Ouija Board even featured in this 1920 Norman Rockwell picture on the front of The Saturday Evening Post. The ladies in The Quid Pro Quo are divided between being fully invested in the process as a method of contacting their beloved dead; and finding it all rather inappropriate and ridiculous. But no-one is really worried about it in the sense that we are now, when we tend to associate Ouija Boards with demonic forces.

So…what changed? Well, in 1973, The Exorcist was released. It completely shifted the way the Ouija was perceived and they are now viewed in pop culture as something that can really harm people, either psychologically or by summoning evil spirits, depending on ones viewpoint.

You can read more about the history of the Ouija Board here at The Smithsonian Magazine . The Quid Pro Quo is coming out on 20th November.

*I hadn’t come across Ouida before. She’s amazing!

Announcing The Quid Pro Quo

So, here’s some news! The Quid Pro Quo will be out on the 20th November and here’s the cover and an excerpt!

It’s the second in the Bradfield trilogy following The Fog of War and stars Walter, Sylvia’s nurse-friend; and Simon, a local detective who visits Bradfield to investigate a murder.

Village nurse Walter Kennett is content with his makeshift found-family in tiny Bradfield. However one midsummer morning a body is found floating in the village duck pond, dead by magical means.
Detective Simon Frost arrives in Bradfield to investigate a inexplicable murder. The evidence seems to point to Lucille Hall-Bridges, who lives with doctor Sylvia Marks and nurse Walter Kennett at Courtfield House. Simon isn’t happy—he doesn’t believe Lucy is a murderer but he’s sure the three of them are hiding something. In the meantime, the draw he feels toward Walter takes him by surprise.

Walter is in a dilemma, concealing Sylvia and Lucy’s relationship and not knowing how much to tell Frost about the paranormal possibilities of the murder. He isn’t interested in going to bed with anyone—he’s got a complicated life and has to know someone really well before he falls between the sheets. He’s taken aback by his own attraction to Detective Frost and angry when Frost appears to twist the spark between them to something transactional in nature.

Will Walter be satisfied to stay on the periphery of Lucy and Sylvia’s love affair, a welcome friend but never quite included? Or is it time for him to strike out and embark on a relationship of his own?

The second in the Bradfield trilogy, set in the Border Magic universe. With a transm/m couple. Read The Fog of War first and/or add The Quid Pro Quo to Goodreads.

As Simon was replacing the device on the telephone table a pretty young woman put her head out of a door at toward the end of the hall. “Sylv!” she said, “Do you want tea? I’ve boiled the kettle.” and then when she realised he wasn’t who she thought he was, “Oh, I do beg your pardon! I thought you were Dr Marks!”.

“She’s still in the surgery,” Simon nodded across the hall.

The woman emerged into the hall. “Lucille Hall-Bridges,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m a friend of Sylvia’s. I help with the house.”

Simon took her hand in his. Her grip was sure and warm. “Detective Frost,” he replied. “Nice to meet you, Miss Hall-Bridges. She had a recent bruise running from her jaw to just below her eye, entering the black-and-purple stage.

“I’ve made a pot of tea,” she was saying. “I don’t know whether anyone will want any, but I do like to feel useful and tea is so…normal-making, isn’t it?”

He nodded, slightly bemused at her chatter. “Yes, indeed,” he said. “Very normal.”

She gave a perfunctory tap on the surgery door, opened it and disappeared inside without waiting for a response. “Sylv, Walter, I’ve made tea. Would you and your detective like to come into the drawing room?” Her voice faded, presumably as she joined them in the examination room.

There was a pause. Then, “Oh!” he heard her say. “Oh.” She sounded a little shocked. “What’s happened to her hands?” she asked.

“Scraped on the bottom on the pond I think,” Simon heard Dr Marks say. “She was face-down in the water.”

“Oh.” Miss Hall-Bridges’ voice was small. “Sylvia…there’s…she’s…I can feel…do you think…?” Her voice trailed off and Dr Marks spoke over her, clearly away they might be overhead.

“Let’s not worry about that now, shall we? The policeman is sending her down to Taunton to a postmortem. You go and take the tea-things into the drawing room. We’ll just cover her up.”