In a move that took her by surprise, he grabbed her hand. His big eyes looked up, moist with tears, as he asked in a whisper, ‘When’s Daddy coming home?’
For one awful minute she was uncertain how to answer. Danny had asked the same question many times since Doug had been put away, and each time her heart was torn in two. ‘Not yet, sweetheart,’ she told him. He had suffered enough since that night, and she had to protect him from the truth for as long as possible.
‘Is he with Gran’ma?’ A tremor of fear touched his voice, and he visibly shivered. ‘Has Gran’ma taken him away?’
‘Don’t you remember, I told you how Gran’ma went to Heaven?’ The boy nodded so she went on, ‘And no, he isn’t with your gran’ma. He’s just gone away for a while.’
‘Is he coming home?’ That same question, over and over.
And always the same answer: ‘I don’t know for sure.’ But now she did know for sure, because ‘home’ was her and Danny, and Doug had forfeited the right to both. As far as the house itself was concerned, if the day ever came when Doug walked in through the front door, she and Danny would pass him on the way out. But Danny was too young to be caught in the middle of the bad feeling between them. ‘I’m sure Daddy will come home as soon as he can.’ She hated herself for misleading him, but what else could she do? If she told him the truth, the nightmares would start all over again, and he might never mend. Later, when there was no option, there would be time enough for the truth. Right now Danny desperately needed reasssurance.
‘Is he a long way away?’
‘Not too far, sweetheart.’
‘Does he still love me?’
Rosie’s heart almost stopped. ‘I thought you already knew that?’
He considered her reply before raising his arms and wrapping them round her neck. Placing a sloppy kiss on her mouth, he said sleepily, ‘Night, God bless.’ He fell back into the pillow and closed his eyes.
‘Night. God bless, sweetheart.’ It was a long time before Rosie could tear herself away. She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at that small sleeping face and silently offering a prayer. ‘You ain’t given me much in life, Lord,’ she whispered, ‘but this little fella makes up for it all.’
After a while she returned to the living-room. From the door, she let her gaze roam round the room, from the few stalwart items of furniture to the threadbare carpet and yellowing net curtains. She recalled the very first time she had set foot in this house. After living with Doug’s folks, it was like a dream come true; her very own place, a sanctuary from Martha and her vile ways. Now, Martha had tainted this place too, and it would never be the same again. ‘You’re still here,’ she said aloud. ‘You and him. You’ll always be here.’ Their presence was like a tangible thing, pressing down on her. But she wouldn’t let it! In her heart Rosie had a new dream. A dream that didn’t include Doug. It was just her and Danny, living in a different place, a place where they would be safe from the past, a place where nobody knew them. A safe and quiet place where they could start afresh. Not much to ask, but for now it was an impossible dream.
Rosie actually laughed aloud. ‘Stop fooling yourself, gal,’ she chided. ‘First things first. Get yourself a job. Come next year Danny will be starting school, and wanting all kinds o’ things. Meanwhile, there’s two mouths to feed, the rent to be paid, and decent clothes for your backs.’ Tomorrow, she would put on her best bib and tucker and present herself at the Woolworths offices.
Coming into the room, she began clearing the table, all the while wondering what to wear. She had a nice two-piece, two pretty frocks, one best blouse and two well-worn skirts. She also had a very smart jacket hanging upstairs in the wardrobe. Yes, she might wear that. ‘Best try it on before you decide,’ she told herself. ‘You’ve lost that much weight, it might resemble a blanket on a scarecrow.’
Her thoughts flew in another direction. Wonder what he’s like this Robert Fellows? Until now, she had felt confident. Suddenly, with the office manager to confront, she was apprehensive. ‘Don’t get above yourself, my gal,’ she warned. ‘Happen he’ll take one look at you, and show you the door.’
With that sobering thought, she washed the dinner things, locked up and went to bed. But she couldn’t sleep. Instead, she conjured up all manner of appearances for Robert Fellows. She regretted not asking Peggy about him. Was he tall, short, thin or fat? Dark-haired or fair? Did he have a kindly manner, or was he sharp-tongued? But, whatever he was, she was determined to make a good impression. ‘You can be sure of this, Mr Robert Fellows,’ she muttered, ‘if there’s a job going, and I can do it, you’ll find I’m not easily put off.’ With that she drifted off to sleep. But it wasn’t Robert Fellows she dreamed of. It was Doug. And beside him stood Adam, and it was like looking through a mirror at everything that had ever happened in her life. Soon, Doug’s image faded and she was left alone with Adam. In her dreams, she let herself love him. When he took her in his arms the tears of joy ran down her face, and all her fears were gone.
When she awoke in the light of a new day, the tears lay stale against the coldness of her skin. There was a pain in her heart that wouldn’t go away, and even when she threw back the curtains to let the sunshine flood in, it didn’t lighten her spirit. Instead, she recalled how she had felt in Adam’s strong warm arms, and was filled with the deepest regret. At that moment, she felt she was the loneliest creature in the world. ‘Come on, Rosie, gal!’ she told herself. ‘Feeling sorry for yourself won’t pay the rent.’
Going to the wardrobe, she sifted through the meagre items until her hand came to the jacket. Drawing it out on the hanger, she took it to the mirror and held it against herself. It was a fitted style, slate grey in colour, with a dark velvet collar and velvet pocket flaps. ‘That’ll do,’ she decided. ‘It looks smart enough, and I reckon it will still fit a treat.’ If not, she could always move the big bone buttons to make it fit better.
At nine o’clock on the dot Rosie went down the street hand in hand with Danny. He was excited about staying with Peggy’s mam and chatted non-stop all the way there. ‘My! You look very posh.’ Peggy’s mam regarded her with a critical eye. ‘If you don’t get the job, I’ll eat me best Sunday hat!’ she exclaimed. Rosie looked very elegant in her straight navy skirt and grey velvet- trimmed jacket. The hardest thing to decide was which blouse to wear beneath, but eventually she’d settled for the white one with the frilly collar; though the frill hid most of the velvet collar, it lent a touch of efficiency to her appearance, which she thought might appeal.
‘Why, thank you,’ Rosie said, flushing with pleasure. ‘You don’t think I’ve overdone the make-up?’ Normally she wouldn’t wear such a strong shade of lipstick, but Peggy assured her it suited her.
‘You look grand, lass.’ Peggy’s mam beamed her approval.
‘And the shoes?’ Rosie raised her foot to show the black patent shoes. ‘You don’t think the heel is too high?’ They were a heady three inches and already they were killing her.
‘I reckon you look a real treat,’ Peggy’s mam told her firmly. ‘Now be off about your business.’ She smiled at the boy who was still clinging on to Rosie’s hand. ‘Me and Danny have got things to do.’ Stooping to whisper, she told him, ‘I thought we might go into town and have a sticky bun in that little cafe near the railway station. What do you say to that, eh?’
‘Can I, Mam?’ Looking up at Rosie, Danny’s eyes were shining at the prospect.
‘’Course you can, sweetheart.’ She took him in her arms and they clung together for the briefest minute, before he was running up the steps. ‘You be good now,’ Rosie warned.
It was Peggy’s mam who answered. ‘He’ll come to no harm,’ she said. ‘Now be off with you.’
Going down the street, Rosie recalled where Peggy’s mam was taking the boy, and her heart was heavy. It was the very same cafe where she had told Adam she was marrying his best mate.
The memory stayed with her on the tram, and it was with her when she st
opped off the tram outside Woolworths. ‘It’s now or never, gal,’ she told herself. ‘So put your best foot forward.’ She did, and it hurt. In fact, she would be surprised if the wretched shoes hadn’t crippled her by the time she got home!
Taking a deep breath, she went into the main store. Peggy was the first to see her, and came rushing forward. ‘Shouldn’t leave me counter,’ she said, furtively glancing round, ‘but I saw you come in and wanted to wish you luck.’
‘Where’s the office?’ Rosie felt completely out of place, and already her confidence was vanishing.
The woman came out of nowhere. ‘Back to your counter, Miss Lewis,’ she said in a frosty voice. And, with a little grimace at Rosie, Peggy hurried away. ‘Is there some problem, madam?’ Tall and sharp-featured, with her fair hair rolled into a sausage shape, the young woman was immaculately dressed in a black two-piece, with just a touch of white at the throat and a silver bar across her breast-pocket. The bar was etched with the words ‘Miss B. Emmanuel, Floor Manager’. The woman looked Rosie up and down as though she was tasting something nasty. ‘Perhaps I can help?’ Her smile was stiff and her hands were constantly agitating against her skirt. She made Rosie feel nervous.
Tve come about the vacancy in the office.’ When the woman closely scrutinised her, Rosie was tempted to turn tail and run.
‘I wasn’t aware they were interviewing anyone today.’ Holding out her hand, she asked, ‘May I see the letter?’
‘I haven’t got a letter,’ Rosie explained, shifting from one foot to the other and wondering why she had been so vain as to wear such uncomfortable shoes. ‘I heard there was a vacancy, and called in on the off-chance.’
The woman’s face lit up and her smile broadened. ‘Oh, I see!’ she exclaimed. ‘In that case, you’ve made a wasted journey, Miss…?’
‘It’s Mrs.’ More’s the pity, Rosie thought. ‘Are you sure I couldn’t have a word with someone? Perhaps the office manager, Mr Fellows, might see me?’
She knew at once she had said the wrong thing because the smile slid from Miss Emmanuel’s face and in its place came a look of horror. ‘Good Heavens! Mr Fellows is far too busy to waste time on someone who just walks in off the streets. No, I’m sorry. You must write in with all your particulars, and, if you’re lucky, you may be called for interview. Good day, Mrs…?’ She paused, her mouth open, waiting for Rosie to provide the necessary information.
She bristled. She had taken an instant dislike to this arrogant woman. ‘The name is Mrs Selby, and I would appreciate it if you could go and ask the gentleman himself. After all, it would be his time I’m wasting, not yours.’
The woman was adamant. ‘We follow a procedure here, Mrs Selby.’ Her voice was controlled, but her attitude was hostile. And I can assure you, there would be no point whatsoever in my going to Mr Fellows because his answer would be exactly the same.’ Her handsome grey eyes were enhanced by thick mascara and a heavy pencilled line. Now, when they opened wide and stared at her, Rosie was put in mind of a panda. They opened even wider when a man’s voice intervened.
‘I heard my name mentioned, Miss Emmanuel?’
Both Rosie and the woman were startled. But it was the woman who became flustered at the sound of Robert Fellow’s voice. ‘Oh, Mr Fellows!’ She swung round and almost fell over. ‘It’s this young woman.’ Casting a cursory glance at Rosie, she went on, ‘I have tried to explain that we can’t just interview anyone who walks in off the street. I have also suggested she should follow regular procedure. But I’m afraid Mrs Selby is being rather rude and aggressive.’ She sulked a little and her crimson lipstick stuck to the corners of her mouth. Rosie tried not to look, because it was one of those things that would irritate her all day.
Robert Fellows had a nice face. Not as handsome as Adam’s, Rosie thought, but pleasant to look on. He was much the same build as Adam too, with strong broad shoulders and an easy manner that put her at ease. His eyes were softly brown, not dark like Adam’s, and when he smiled, like now, she smiled with him. ‘I think I can spare a moment for a little chat,’ he told Miss Emmanuel in a charming voice. ‘After all; we’ve already interviewed several people for the post, and as yet we’ve not been able to find one suitable candidate,’
‘But we do have a proper procedure, Mr Fellows,’ she protested haughtily. ‘And I don’t think we should make any exception.’ She was aware that certain members of staff, including Peggy Lewis, were watching, willing her to lose the argument. ‘It would set a bad example, if you see what I mean?’ What she really meant was that she might lose face if he went against her advice.
Stepping between her and Rosie, he smiled. ‘Oh, I think we can be forgiven in this instance.’ Turning to Rosie, he said, ‘All the same, I do hope you’re not wasting my time?’
‘So do I.’ Rosie calculated him to be about thirty years old, yet he had a boyish charm that made her want to giggle. Strange, she thought, how she was constantly comparing him to Adam.
‘To the office then.’ He set off towards the bottom of the store and she followed, finding it difficult to keep up with his long strides, especially when the shoes on her feet were gripping her toes like a vice.
They passed Peggy’s cosmetics counter. She gave Rosie the thumbs up sign. For her trouble, Peggy got a severe glare from Miss Emmanuel who was fuming by the front doors and blocking the shoppers’ access. Then past haberdashery and on to the confectionery counter. At the point where the fabric racks met houseware, Robert Fellows took a left turn. For a frantic moment he was lost to Rosie’s sight, but then she caught a glimpse of him hurrying up the stairs. Breathless, she ran after him. When she got to the top, she paused for breath. ‘You ain’t as fit as you thought, Rosie gal,’ she chuckled. When she raised her head, Robert Fellows was looking at her, and she blushed to the roots of her hair.
A long, meandering room with large windows all round, the office was surprisingly welcoming. There were three desks with members of staff sitting at them. One man was aged and grey, the other fat and balding. At the third was seated a kindly-looking woman aged about fifty. She put Rosie in mind of Peggy’s mam. Each desk has a large black telephone, and they all started ringing at once. ‘We’re a team,’ Robert Fellows explained. Seating himself in a big leather chair behind his desk, he gestured for Rosie to occupy the upright chair immediately in front. ‘Some people object to working in one big office, you know. They prefer to be shut away in a little room on their own. How do you feel about that?’ His question was abrupt, taking her by surprise.
‘I like the idea of working as a team,’ she answered truthfully. ‘And I would imagine it to be more efficient.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘My sentiments exactly, Mrs…?’
‘Selby.’ She wished it could have been any other name, because no sooner was the word out of her mouth than the three clerks swung round to stare at her, three pairs of eyes all looking her up and down as though she was a curiosity. Robert Fellows appeared not have noticed so she went on, ‘I’d best tell you straight off, I don’t know the workings of a big office. The only ledger I’ve ever tended was my father-in-law’s, and that was just to tot up the coal invoices.’ That information appeared to have confirmed the three clerks’ suspicions because they turned to stare at her again, although the woman did give her an encouraging smile.
Robert Fellows quietly regarded her. He liked what he saw. She was smart and presentable. She was not coarse or loud, like many of the applicants he had seen. And from what he could gather downstairs, she had stood her ground with the formidable Betty Emmanuel. As far as he was concerned, that alone spoke volumes for her character. On top of all that, she was exceptionally lovely; a little thin perhaps, but that was by the way. ‘Write your name and address for me,’ he suggested, pushing a fountain pen and a sheet of paper towards her.
As she wrote, he watched her closely, noting the rich brown hair that tumbled to one side of her face when she inclined her head, the long thick lashes and that perfectly formed face. I
t was one he would never tire of looking at.
‘I’m sorry.’ Pushing the paper back across the desk, she apologised, ‘My handwriting isn’t all that wonderful.’ The truth was, she hadn’t had much practice, and all the while she was writing she had been aware of his gaze on her. It had made her tremble a little. Consequently, the writing was unsteady.
He studied it. ‘You have a fine hand,’ he told her truthfully. ‘You say you know how to keep ledgers?’
‘Well, it was only my father-in-law’s, and just the one. I entered invoices and totted them all up at the end.’
‘One… ten, it’s all the same.’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘Are you good at sums?’
‘Good enough, I think.’ In fact arithmetic had always been her strong point.
‘And the telephone?’ When she frowned, he added, ‘You’d be amazed at how many people are frightened to use a telephone.’
‘I don’t have occasion to use a telephone all that much. I don’t have one at home.’
‘What? You mean your husband hasn’t had one installed?’ Rosie felt all eyes on her again, and thought the time had come to put her cards on the table. ‘My husband is in prison.’ Since the others knew, there was no point in pretending otherwise.
In fact, he had already sensed the atmosphere when she mentioned her name, and knew of the case. He doubted whether there was one person in the whole of Lancashire who hadn’t read about Doug Selby and the tragedy that had led to his mother’s death. He hadn’t mentioned it because he wanted the truth to come from her. ‘I know,’ he said. And once again his smile put her at ease.
More Than Riches Page 26