No longer employed by the mill, her request to keep working with other women to make lace had been ignored by Harold Mullins. Certain machines at the mill had been idle throughout the war, there being no demand for lace in those days. Still in good condition it was a shame she’d not been allowed to operate them. Evie thought she might one day return to making lace herself by hand and try selling it on Campfield Market to earn herself more money. But it could take a while to build herself the stock.
Right now she had to acquire the necessary skills to do this completely different and difficult job, which would hopefully make her a reasonable income as well as having thankfully supplied her with this home for her family. But being only a part-time occupation, she might find some opportunity to work for herself. An interesting proposition.
Chapter Seven
Taking her favourite walk along the beach, Joanne loved the wonderful view of the sea as well as collecting a few beautiful shells and pieces of driftwood from under the pier, which she thought of as treasures. She would wash the shells and paint the driftwood in bright colours, or create an image of seagulls and boats, sensing that would give them a more interesting appearance. It surprised her when Bernie suddenly came to join her.
‘Hello, Joanne. I saw what you were doing while I was watching the boats and am happy to join in,’ he said, starting to pick up a few more shells to pop into her carrier bag.
Lifting her hair from her neck to let the breeze run through it, she glanced up at him with some reluctance, wondering why he had followed her. This being a lovely summer’s day she felt quite unable to think of any justified reason for dismissing him even though she had a desire to be on her own to think things through.
‘Thanks, Bernie, I have managed to find a few.’ They walked along in silence, collecting more pretty shells. When she’d filled her bag he took it from her, claiming it was far too heavy for her to carry. Seeing his pale grey eyes glitter with admiration Joanne was filled with a sudden gush of panic. He did seem to be growing far too interested in her. She was even more surprised when he next asked her for a date.
‘I know that you like dancing and wondered if you’d care to accompany me to the Tower Ballroom. That would be fun,’ he said, giving her a grin.
Oh, my goodness, did she wish to dance with this lad? She certainly had no intention of falling for him, still living in hope of becoming engaged to Teddy. Wouldn’t it be dangerous to allow Bernie to become too fond of her? But what could she say? Hadn’t they been sort of good friends these last few years? And he’d been most supportive by helping her search for her mother in Manchester, as well as sympathetic when they’d failed to find her? But she felt the urge to refuse this request as politely as possible, telling herself she should do her utmost to prevent him from attempting to court her, still fixing her hope on Teddy. Bearing in mind who he was, she must remain cautiously polite towards him. ‘Maybe we’ll give that a try on some occasion. I’ll let you know when I feel ready to have a dance,’ she said, tossing up her chin with a flicker of a smile.
To her surprise, a day or two later, she also received the offer of a date from Wing Commander Ramsbotham. Being such an attractive and lively young man, how could she refuse him? He was far more exciting and good-looking than Bernie. That night when they settled in bed, Joanne told Megan how she’d accepted his offer and declined Bernie’s.
‘Why are you being so stupid?’ her sister demanded, sounding most scathing.
‘Why would I not accept? Wing Commander Ramsbotham is a very attractive man,’ Joanne stoutly declared.
‘Rubbish, he’s a pain in the ass. Bernie is so much kinder and more polite.’
Joanne rolled her eyes. ‘He does appear to be quite smitten with me. He keeps offering to clean my shoes, check the tyres on my bike and if I stretch up a little to the high kitchen cupboard he’ll ask what it is I want and can he reach it for me. He’s very funny! And, of course, he followed me down to the beach the other day to supposedly help me find shells when really he wanted to ask me out. Not at all what I wished him to do.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake, why not encourage Bernie to be your next flame instead of that randy RAF chap? Being our aunt’s nephew you mustn’t be rude to him. And you were far too flighty when those GIs showed interest in you, obsessed with love,’ she mockingly stated.
‘Don’t talk nonsense.’ Joanne felt slightly irritated by her sister’s teasing attitude. She was such a highly intelligent girl and often dismissive of her despite her being her much older sister. She could, however, be making a relevant point not to be rude to Bernie, and a little against the decision she made. She was a bright lass.
‘I’ll give it some thought,’ she said. She turned over in bed and shut her eyes tight so they wouldn’t spill out tears yet again.
Had she been flighty? Being naive, headstrong and foolish to let herself fall madly in love with Teddy, eagerly waiting for the day he’d write and ask her to marry him. Many young girls had felt equally obsessed with those GIs during this dreadful war. It was true that like all his mates Teddy had clearly enjoyed having a fan club of girls gathered around him. All those guys felt in need of adoration, having been caught up in the fighting, bombing and enduring great danger. Like many other girls she too had stupidly allowed him to seduce her, all because she believed that he loved her. Maybe he didn’t care for her at all. Had he thought of her as flighty, not just shy and prudish, greatly appealed by the adoring emotion he’d seen in her eyes and duly taken advantage of her? Was it just as well that he’d left, or was she in serious trouble and very much in need of a man to protect her?
The Tower Ballroom was beautifully lit with red and yellow lighting. When the Wurlitzer organ came sliding up, the man seated before it happily playing, the carefully sprung dance floor was soon packed with people in order to encourage everyone to keep dancing. Some were seated above in the balconies so they could simply watch. ‘Shall we dance now or take a glass of bubbly first?’ Wing Commander Ramsbotham asked as he led her to a table.
‘Oh, no wine for me, thank you, just a cup of tea and a cake.’ Joanne had tactfully agreed to accompany him to an afternoon tea dance not an evening one, taking her sister’s advice that this would be far more appropriate and safe.
‘Call me Clive, dear girl. That’s my name,’ he chuckled. Ignoring what she said, he ordered a bottle of wine. Then, taking her hand, he led her out onto the dance floor.
There was something about the way he held her close, pressing his thighs against her legs and his cheek against hers that set off a small alarm within her. Had Megan been right to warn her against accepting this date? He kept a firm hold of her for several more dances till eventually she politely suggested they return to their table and requested a cup of tea.
Taking a long drink from the glass of bubbly wine he’d poured for himself, he then poured a glass for Joanne. ‘Cheers! Chin, chin.’
She lifted her glass to click his, as was demanded of her, but nervously set it down again without taking a single sip and gratefully thanked the young waitress who delivered her a teapot and a selection of cakes in a stand.
He laughed, the sound of his humour not at all pleasant, filled with a blast of cynicism. ‘Come on, take a drink. Don’t deny yourself such a delicious treat.’
‘I prefer this afternoon tea, thank you, very much the kind of treat that suits me perfectly.’
Glancing about him with a faint air of derision, he said, ‘Why don’t we slip away to somewhere more private and enjoy a little fun together? Wouldn’t that be more entertaining than this ballroom?’
Wasn’t privacy what she’d often dreamed of in the past with Teddy? Now, this man demanding the opportunity to be alone with her was not something she considered at all appropriate. ‘I’m not certain about that.’
‘Why not, dear girl?’
From the expression in his blue eyes it was clear to Joanne what he was implying. He obviously fancied her and assumed she was fascinated by him t
oo. The thought flickered in her head that if she agreed to let him do to her whatever he wished, could she then lay the blame for this child she carried upon him and gain herself a marriage that could save her reputation and spare her a desolate future? Would that be a good thing? He was an attractive man if quite a bit older than her and probably quite well off. He was, however, rather weird, remembering how he’d pinched her sister’s bottom. Wasn’t that why Megan strongly disapproved of him? Taking a deep breath, she mildly remarked, ‘I assumed we were just coming to the Tower Ballroom to enjoy a dance and afternoon tea, not whatever you’re suggesting.’
‘Why would you not be happy to join me in a different hotel to the Jubilee House? I’m fully aware you were highly captivated with those GIs. I assume that’s because you love having a man around to enchant you. And you are most captivating, a very pretty girl in that short, tightly fitting blue dress. Very sexy.’
Something in his tone jolted her as Joanne felt herself flush with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. The implication seemed to be that he considered she was open to titillating attention from all men, in particular those in the Army or Air Force. No doubt he too loved having a fan club of girls, being filled with a strong sense of his own importance and was possibly something of a pervert.
‘Would you believe those Americans greatly interfered in our lives, robbing me of my latest conquest whom I’d been dating for quite a while. I remember one date I had with her when a GI turned up and gave her a kiss, blast him. That pretty girl dumped me in favour of that blasted chap, as so many have done.’
He went rabbiting on about the GIs and Joanne firmly shut her ears to his complaints. She stared at him, noticing a cold hardness in his eyes and a certain arrogance in his twisted smile. Some instinct made her turn her head away and to her surprise she saw Bernie standing in the doorway watching her and looking a little concerned. He did seem to be making a habit of keeping a close eye on her as if anxious to ensure she was safe, even this afternoon in spite of her refusal to accept his offer of a date.
‘Actually,’ she said, interrupting Clive Ramsbotham, this cocky wing commander, ‘you wouldn’t believe how happy I am that this war is now over and I’m no longer pestered by cheeky men. I’ve no wish to be harassed by you either, sir. Fortunately, an old friend is waiting for me so I must return to work now. Thanks for the tea and goodbye.’ Highly amused when his jaw fell open in shock, she jumped to her feet and smartly walked away. When Joanne reached Bernie at the door in the far corner, she linked her arm with his, burst into a giggle and said, ‘Do help me escape from that dreadful man.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said, giving a chuckle too, and they happily trotted down the stairs then along the promenade back to Jubilee House.
Fortunately, cocky Clive quickly departed and over the following days Joanne readily agreed to take a few walks with Bernie, feeling much safer with him. She always made sure Megan accompanied them, believing that to be far more appropriate. Bernie did at times seem to be increasingly attentive, often bringing her small bunches of wild flowers to express his growing interest in her. Joanne was stunned one afternoon following a show he’d taken them to on the North Pier when he attempted to kiss her cheek. She quickly turned away so that he caught her ear instead.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Just wanted to let you know how I appreciate your company.’
She heard Megan give a little giggle as Joanne politely accepted his apology. He was apparently attempting to be reliable and kind. Did that mean her sister was right to encourage her to go on a date with him? But how could she trust any man, let alone fall in love with this one?
All necessary jobs now done, thanks to Davie’s painting and Evie having made the house much more clean and neat, she rose early on Saturday morning, took a little cereal and toast, then quickly washed up. She felt eager to meet her niece Cathie at Campfield Market and tell her what she’d achieved. It was as Evie put on her coat and headscarf that there came a knock on the door. As it banged open, she heard the call of an all-too-familiar voice and the sound of loud footsteps approaching. To her dismay, she saw Harold Mullins marching towards her. All too aware he could be most domineering, Evie felt a spark of resentment that he believed he had the right to walk in without an invitation. This would be because he was the owner of this small house, even though she’d already paid him the first week’s rent and hadn’t yet begun working for him.
‘I hope you don’t want me to start on this job today, as I’ve spent the last week busily smartening up this house and am now on my way out shopping,’ she informed him politely, feeling a shudder of discontent within her.
‘Hold yer horses, lady. You may be in a hurry but don’t rush off. As you know I’m putting a bit of business your way. I’ve quite a few clients who’ve so far refused to cough up what they owe me. Here’s the list of those who essentially must pay their betting bills,’ he said, handing her a sheet bearing a long list of names and addresses. ‘You can start calling on them right now, then the rest on Monday morning and insist they pay up.’
Evie met his unyielding gaze in consternation, realizing she was not in a position to refuse. There was probably much more to this job than she’d imagined. She hadn’t at all taken into account that some folk would avoid paying his betting company. ‘How do I do that?’ she asked in alarm.
‘With firm determination and politeness, at which you’re most efficient. And tek no notice if they claim to be poor or hide away pretending they’re not home. Keep hammering on their flaming door till they let you in. Then deliver the payments you receive to me this evening and every evening thereafter.’
‘Heck, not sure I’ll be any good at this,’ she said, dreading the prospect of being demanding of people in poverty or difficult strangers addicted to gambling to hand over to her what they owed to Mullins, let alone walking the streets each evening to his house in the dark. Why had she ever agreed to take on such a task? The reason was obvious. Because of this house he’d offered her to rent, she reminded herself, glancing around with pride at the improvements already achieved. Something she’d been desperately in need of.
Giving her a smarmy grin, he said, ‘Aye, you’ll have to be good at this job, lass, otherwise you’ll be bloody sacked and chucked out of this house.’ Having made this cutting remark, he marched away.
Chapter Eight
When Bernie again asked her to attend a dance with him at the Tower Ballroom, Joanne felt sorely tempted to accept. Maybe she should be making a fresh start in life, as well as finding an answer to her problem. ‘OK, why not? You’re right, I do love dancing. We’ll give it a go,’ she said with a smile.
It was a delight to see Reginald Dixon come sliding up seated before the Wurlitzer organ this time, which he’d used to play at the Tower before joining the RAF. ‘He often came to give concerts,’ Bernie told her. ‘Now he’s planning to return for good, no doubt once he’s been demobbed. Good to see him here.’
Holding her quite professionally, Joanne was surprised to find what a good dancer he was and easily kept in step with him. Presumably living near the Tower Ballroom had provided Bernie with plenty of opportunity to learn how to dance, often coming along to the afternoon sessions, as he did that time he rescued her from that dreadful wing commander. She happily danced with him, thankful that he was nowhere near as demanding or flirtatious.
Over the summer she’d taken several more walks with Bernie on the beach. On occasions he would escort her and Megan to the Winter Gardens to listen to music playing or watch various shows on the North and Central Piers or at the Grand Theatre. Her sister rarely accompanied them these days, it being almost September and she was generally engaged in preparing herself for this new school. Aunt Annie had made her the required uniform and was teaching her how to knit and sew. Aunt Sadie was engrossed in finding her good books to read from the local library and encouraging her to draw and paint. They were so supportive of her sister, Joanne wondered if she should seek their help too.
As if seeing a sign of anguish in her face, he said, ‘I know you’ve not been eating too well lately, are you feeling any better?’
‘I’m fine,’ she stoutly remarked.
Noticing how she kept looking around, avoiding his gaze, he gave her a grin. ‘You look very pretty in that floral frock and with those clips in your curly hair. Did you agree to accompany me because you wanted to show yourself off, as you obviously like to do with us chaps? Well, why not when you look so gorgeous?’
About to protest at his indication that she liked to flatter herself she instead burst out laughing, feeling madly lighthearted and a little touched by this comment. ‘How well you understand me. I do like to look elegant, which isn’t at all easy having little money to spend on clothes. And as I no longer trust men I simply do my best to improve whatever cheap frocks I can find. You look quite good too in that smart navy suit with a white shirt and blue tie.’
Peace In My Heart Page 6