Chapter Twenty
The clerk smiled frostily. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Selby. You left work of your own accord. I’m afraid it will be weeks before we can help you.’
‘But I’ve got a child to take care of. What are we supposed to live on in the meantime?’ Rosie was desperate. It had taken a great deal of courage for her to call on the Welfare, and now here she was, being told by a scrap of a girl that she couldn’t be helped. It was humiliating. ‘It’s not as though I haven’t tried to find work,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve applied for that many jobs my fingers are worn ragged, and I must have trudged miles these past weeks.’ For some reason she couldn’t fathom, no one was prepared to take her on.
The clerk picked up her pen. ‘I really am sorry,’ she said, writing furiously on a piece of paper which she then passed to Rosie. ‘I’ve made an appointment for a month’s time. We can review the situation then.’ She was already turning her gaze to the next candidate when Rosie crumpled the paper into her pocket and walked away.
‘Thanks for nothing,’ she muttered defiantly. But there were tears in her eyes as she emerged into the unusually warm sunshine of a February day.
Dejected, she thrust her hands into the pockets of her overcoat and made her way to the railway station. Here, she went to the cafe where she had parted from Adam. These days, it was the only place she could find sanctuary. There were memories here, both good and bad. Here in this cosy welcoming place she confessed her betrayal to her first and only real love. Here she had talked with him, longed for him to forgive her, and lost him because of her own foolishness. In this place she and Peggy had spent many a busy hour, gossiping and making silly plans for the future. ‘What’s the future now?’ she asked herself. ‘With Adam gone… Peggy gone, and now my work, the only thing that made me feel useful. What is there for me to look forward to?’
With the realisation that she was fast falling into debt and could see no way out of it, her spirits fell like a lead weight inside her. Taking off her coat, she hung it over the back of the chair. Thoughts of Danny flooded her heart, bringing a smile to her face. Suddenly the day seemed so much brighter. ‘We’ll manage,’ she promised herself. ‘Somehow we’ll manage.’
‘Mornin’, luv. What can I get yer?’ Mrs Brown was the owner of these premises, and never a day went by when she didn’t have a broad smile on her face.
‘A cup of tea and…’ Rosie pressed her face to the glass cabinet. Inside was the most delicious display of fresh cakes and buns ‘…one of your Eccles cakes,’ Rosie decided, and when she smiled at the round rosy face before her, her own smile was dazzling.
‘Still ain’t got a job then?’ Mrs Brown always showed an interest in her regular customers.
Rosie shook her head. ‘’Fraid not,’ she replied. ‘But it isn’t for want of trying.’ In fact, today was the only day she hadn’t done her usual rounds… all the big stores, the smaller shops, and even the factories hereabouts. ‘It seems nobody’s setting on.’
‘Hmph! It’s their loss I’d say.’ Mrs Brown carefully placed Rosie’s order on to the tray and slid it across the counter. ‘There y’are, luv. That’ll be one and ninepence.’ While she got Rosie’s change from half a crown, she chatted on. ‘I can’t understand it,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You know you told me last week you’d been to that big store on the corner and they turned you down?’
‘Taylor’s store, you mean?’ Rosie recalled it very well. In fact she had seen the advert on Monday, applied the very next day, sending her references and everything, and on Thursday she was called for interview. However, when she got there she was told there had been a mistake and that the post had already been filled. It puzzled her then, and it had puzzled her ever since.
‘You went for an interview, didn’t you… on the Thursday if I recall correctly?’
‘That’s right. I was told there had been a mix-up and that the job had already been given.’
Mrs Brown leaned close, as though about to impart a confidence. ‘Then how come Judy Craig from Harper Street got set on, for the very same job you applied for… on the Friday?’
Rosie was astounded. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Sure as eggs is eggs!’ She put the change into Rosie’s outstretched hand and left her to think about it.
For a full hour Rosie sat at the table, her gaze following the passersby outside the window. Her thoughts however followed Mrs Brown’s remarks. It seemed inconceivable to Rosie that the office manager of a large store should deliberately lie to her. Yet what else was she to think? Certainly there were any number of possibilities as to what had happened. Maybe the girl who was promised the job had failed to turn up, and they merely called the next person on the list? On top of that, maybe this Judy Craig was better qualified than she? Either way, Rosie told herself, it was no use crying over spilt milk. Maybe she’d be luckier the next time?
Yet the more she thought on it, the more she felt there was something not quite right. Why had she been turned down for so many jobs? Work of a kind that was exactly what she had been doing for Robert Fellows, and doing very well? Why was it that the employers always seemed keen until she sent in her references? And of course she was obliged to offer her previous employer as reference.
Slowly but surely, the merest glimmer of suspicion crept into her mind. The idea was so shocking that she startled the couple at the next table when she cried out, ‘Surely to God, it can’t be!’
Mrs Brown however, was not startled. She knew the reason why Rosie had given up her job, and though she suspected there was a smear campaign being mounted against her, was not one to get drawn in. Now though, hearing Rosie’s exclamation, she was satisfied that she’d got the message across without actually having to spell it out.
Rosie glanced up to see the kindly soul looking at her, and her doubts vanished. Rising from her chair, she put on her coat and took the tray back to the counter. ‘You knew, didn’t you?’ she said softly.
Mrs Brown still wouldn’t be drawn. ‘Mum’s the word,’ she replied, pressing a chubby finger to her lips. Then she took the tray and attended to the next customer.
* * *
Robert Fellows was not surprised to see Rosie. In fact he was delighted. Dismissing his secretary, he closed the door. Turning to Rosie, he said charmingly, ‘I wondered how long it would be before you paid me a visit.’
Looking at him now, she was amazed that she could ever have been fooled by him. ‘You’ve blackened my name, haven’t you?’ There was no use beating about the bush. She had never been surer of herself, so the best thing was to come right out and say it. ‘You’re giving me bad references, and don’t deny it!’
‘My, my! Are you telling me you can’t get a job?’
He sat on the edge of his desk in that arrogant fashion she had foolishly mistaken for elegance. In that moment Rosie had to fight down an urge to knock him sideways. ‘I’m warning you here and now, I intend to report you to a higher authority. If it was known what you’re doing, you’d be shown the door pretty damn quick.’ Inside, she was boiling with rage. Outside, she kept a cool head. It shook him just a little.
‘I hope you can prove everything you’re saying, my dear?’ he was the cool one now. ‘Wait just a minute.’ He strode out of the office and returned a moment later with the entire office staff.
Lining them up, he explained in a bold voice, ‘Mrs Selby has made a very serious allegation against me.’ He gave a small laugh, effectively ridiculing her. ‘Now then, if any of you are aware, or indeed suspect, that I am returning bad references on her behalf, or casting the slightest doubt on her ability, I want you to speak up.’ The charm was gone as he glared from one to the other. Finally fixing his gaze on Rosie, he snapped, ‘Apparently this vindictive young woman intends to complain to the highest authority. If that be the case, then each of you will be called on either to substantiate her story… or uphold my own blameless character.’ With his hands behind his back, he walked down the line, smiling at each one in turn. ‘
Mrs Benton, what have you to say?’
Meg Benton’s face grew scarlet and she could not bring herself to look at Rosie. ‘I would rather not be involved, if you don’t mind,’ she muttered. When he stared at her, she quickly added, ‘Not for one minute could I say you would do such a thing.’ With every word her face grew hotter, until she was visibly uncomfortable.
Mr Mortimer shuffled his feet. ‘I would have to agree with Mrs Benton,’ he offered. Then he had a coughing fit and Mrs Benton had to fetch him a glass of water.
Horace Sykes grunted and complained that, ‘If you’ll excuse me, sir, I have better things to do with my time than to stand here and listen to spiteful accusations. As far as I can see, a respected member of this establishment is being wrongly accused, and I would have no hesitation in saying so, if called upon!’ Having said his piece, he curled his bottom lip over his top one, and stood smartly to attention.
The secretary swore she had seen every reference sent out on Rosie’s behalf. ‘As far as I’m concerned, they gave an excellent report of your work here,’ she lied brazenly.
Robert Fellows was pleased. He knew every one of his staff and how to play on their weaknesses. When all was said and done, nobody wanted to lose their livelihood. ‘Thank you. That will be all,’ he said, sending them all out.
‘You should be ashamed.’ Rosie knew she was on to a losing battle. ‘Somehow you’ve got them all to lie for you.’
He laughed aloud. ‘You really are the limit!’ he told her. ‘First you accuse me, and now you’re accusing the entire office staff.’ Perching himself on the edge of the desk, he wagged a finger at her. ‘I think I warned you that you’d be sorry,’ he murmured.
Rosie was incensed. Realising she could do nothing without involving those people outside, she decided to settle her account another way. ‘I could tell your wife how you proposed to me,’ she said sternly. ‘But that would hurt her, and to be honest, I don’t know if I could bring myself to do it.’
Relieved, Robert chuckled and her temper broke. ‘You bastard!’ With one great swing of her arm, she caught him sideways. He lost his balance and fell to the floor. ‘I don’t need your references anyway,’ she said, looking down at him. ‘I’m only sorry I couldn’t see what a pathetic trickster you were. But they do say sometimes you can’t see the wood for the trees.’
Shocked, he made no attempt to get up. Instead he asked in a small voice, ‘You didn’t mean it did you? About telling the wife?’
She gave him a withering look. ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ she declared, then straightened her shoulders and walked sedately to the door. ‘Goodbye, Mr Fellows. Oh, and by the way, don’t kid yourself that you’re good in bed… more passable I’d say.’
With that scathing remark she swept out. It was only when she got to the street door that she began chuckling. She felt elated, wonderfully satisfied. Robert Fellows would never know whether she meant to contact his wife or not, and that was the way she wanted it left. ‘Let the bugger suffer!’ she told Mrs Brown later. ‘It’s what he deserves.’
* * *
For the rest of that week, Rosie lowered her sights, going round the coal-yards and into the marketplace, searching high and low for any kind of work. Unfortunately, though Robert Fellows’ influence hadn’t reached this far, there was no work. ‘If you were a fella with arms like Popeye, I’d set yer on straightaway,’ the fishmonger said. ‘Them crates have to be packed, lifted, weighed and loaded on to yon lorry. It needs a man. Sorry, luv.’ The message was the same wherever she went. ‘Not strong enough’… ‘Need a bloke with a broad back’… ‘You can make the tea but these fellas swear like bloody troopers and, besides, I can’t pay above four pounds a day.’
It was Friday night. Weary but not beaten, Rosie had just put Danny to bed and was sitting by the fire wondering what to do when a knock came on the door. It was Peggy’s mam. ‘Saw you come home earlier,’ she said. ‘You looked fair worn out, so I thought I’d come and keep you company for a while. What’s more, I’ve some news that might cheer you up.’
Rosie went into the kitchen and made them each a brew of tea. ‘I need cheering up,’ she confirmed. ‘Look at them.’ Pointing to a pair of battered shoes, she explained, ‘They were hardly worn when I left Woolworths, and now I can feel the pavement through the soles.’
‘By!’ The older woman slowly moved her head from side to side, loudly tutting and looking sorrowful as she gazed at the shoes. ‘You poor little sod, I’d no idea.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Rosie told her. ‘I ain’t given up yet.’ It was funny, she thought, how she had reverted to saying ‘ain’t’ when all the time she was working, she would say ‘isn’t’. Laying a comforting hand on the older woman’s arm, she urged, ‘What’s this news you’ve got that might cheer me up then?’
‘I had a letter from our Peggy…’
Before she could finish, Rosie’s brown eyes were shining with excitement. ‘Did she mention me? Is she getting on all right? Coming home for a weekend, is she? Oh, I’ll be that glad to see her.’ One of her greatest regrets was the rift that had developed between her and Peggy.
‘No, lass, I’m sorry.’ Unable to look Rosie in the eye, she lowered her gaze to the crumpled letter clutched in her hand. ‘She never mentioned you at all.’
Rosie looked away. ‘That’s a real shame,’ she said with heartfelt disappointment. ‘Still, we mustn’t blame her, eh? Happen she’s too busy to think about me.’ What she said was one thing. What she thought was another. Now, when she glanced up at the other woman, her smile was painted back on. But it didn’t fool Peggy’s mam.
Her eyes sparkled with anger. ‘She wants a bloody good shaking if you ask me. An’ I’ve told her that! Every time I write, I’m full of what you’ve been doing… how you’ve packed up your job, and now you can’t seem to find another. I’ve told her how things is getting really difficult for you, and that you miss her.’ She tutted loudly again. ‘And still she makes no mention! By! I shall give her a piece of my mind when I write back, an’ that’s a fact.’
‘No. Please don’t do that.’ Rosie didn’t want to be the cause of bad blood between Peggy and her mam. ‘If our friendship is worth anything, she’ll mend it in her own good time.’ Hesitating, Rosie added softly, ‘Or not at all.’ The very thought of never again having Peggy for her friend was overwhelmingly sad. So she chose not to dwell on it. ‘How’s she doing anyway?’
‘Well, that’s what I came to tell you,’ came the proud answer. ‘She’s going through the course with flying colours. According to this ’ere letter, the bosses are really pleased with her.’
Rosie nodded approvingly. ‘That’s the way,’ she said, ‘I’m glad it’s turning out right for her.’
Stuffing the letter into her pinnie pocket, the older woman regarded Rosie with admiring eyes. ‘You’re a grand little thing,’ she said. ‘And I’m a silly old bugger.’
‘Whatever do you mean?’
‘Well! I mean fancy me boasting about how well our Peggy’s doing, when here’s you with two mouths to feed… out of work, let down by the Welfare, and not knowing where the next shilling’s coming from. By! I must have me brains in me arse.’
That remark was so characteristic of Peggy that Rosie laughed out loud. ‘You’re a tonic, that’s what you are,’ she chuckled. And Peggy’s mam giggled like a schoolgirl.
‘Children abed, are they?’ Rosie asked brightly.
Aye. I’ve put ’em abed early, ’cause bed’s the warmest place. Especially when that silly bloody coalman ain’t brought me weekly ration. Honest to God, Rosie gal, I’ve a mind to change to Sutcliffe’s.’
‘I should think twice about that!’ Rosie urged. ‘From what I’ve heard, folks are leaving him in droves. What with late deliveries and high prices, it’s a wonder Sutcliffe’s are still in business at all.’
According to her from the draper’s, there’s a new manager, and things is a lot better now. Happen I’ll give him a try.’ Stretching out her
hands to warm them, she was mesmerised by the leaping flames and the hazy glowing coals beneath. ‘That’s some good coal, lass. Where’d you get it? Not from my coalman, I’ll be bound.’
Rosie smiled wryly as she explained, ‘I can’t afford a full sack at a time, and the coalman won’t deliver less, so I get it by the shovelful from the corner shop.’
‘Cost you more in the long run, though. Surely the coalman will let you have a full sack if you pay half one week and half the next?’
‘I’ve already tried that, but he won’t do it. Not since I’ve lost my job, he won’t.’ Rosie laughed. ‘Miserable old bugger! Happen I should teach him a lesson… get myself a truck and set up against him.’
‘Aye, an’ I’ll bet you could show him a thing or two.’ Peggy’s mam saw it for the light-hearted suggestion it was. ‘I mean, you had a good teacher in Ned Selby, ain’t that a fact?’ Unaware that Rosie had lapsed deep into thought, she yawned and stretched her fat little figure, then said, ‘Right. I’d best be off, else Lord knows what that lot’ll be getting up to.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Rosie told her. Quickly now, she tipped a small pile of coal out of the scuttle and into a cardboard box. ‘Take this with you,’ she offered, pushing the box into the other woman’s arms. ‘There’s nothing worse of a morning than getting up to a cold house.’
Dumbstruck by such kindness, Peggy’s mam could only stare. When she caught her breath, she gasped, ‘God love and bless yer.’ Tucking the box under her arm, she made her way to the front door, where she promised to return the favour the following week.
Rosie threw the bolt home and went back to the living-room. Here she stood before the fireplace, her eyes searching her own features in the mirror. Something Peggy’s mam said had set her thinking.
More Than Riches Page 36