Peace In My Heart

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘No thank you,’ she firmly remarked. Not taking a sip of the port she set it down on the small table beside her. ‘As I said, I must go to cook supper for my son. What is it that you wished to say to me?’

  ‘That I find you most eye-catching and attractive, dear lady. And no doubt you’re feeling a bit lonely.’ With a roguish glimmer of desire in his eyes he reached over, pulled her into his arms and strongly kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Evie felt her throat choke with horror, the acrid taste of whisky creating a sense of bile within her. As she struggled to free herself she felt his hand thump her face then clamp hold of her breasts.

  ‘Get off me!’ she screamed.

  When he at last lifted his head up to take a breath, she attempted to fiercely shove him away and slap his face. Ignoring her effort to protect herself, he kept on kissing and fondling her. Evie desperately fought him, realizing that however hard she tried it was proving to be extremely difficult. He possessed an insatiable sexual appetite, which put her in serious danger. There was no one around to hear her shout, or come running to save her. His hand was now roaming up her bare thigh. Dear God, how could she defend herself? Reaching out her arm, she found a large lump of coal in the bucket by the fire. She grabbed it and slammed him hard on his head. Giving a yell, he fell backwards onto the rug.

  After jumping to her feet, Evie ran like hell out of the house.

  When she arrived home no one was around to see how distressed and upset she was, her house being empty of her entire family. Even Danny hadn’t come home from work yet, or else her sixteen-year-old son was off playing footie or some other sport with his mates. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her face bore a bruise on the cheek where he’d thumped her. Tears flooded in her brown eyes as she gazed at Donald’s empty chair where he would usually be contentedly reading the evening paper and smoking his favourite cigarettes. He did used to sometimes complain if she was late home and felt in need of food. Were her darling husband still around he would surely be showing great care for her. How would she cope with the problems of life without him? A dreadful prospect.

  Going upstairs to the sink in the small closet she scrubbed herself clean all over: her thighs, breasts, face and all parts of her as well as her hair. Harold had grabbed a lock of it, his dark eyes gleaming with desire as he’d pulled her to him to push open her mouth with his fat tongue. The decision to resign and escape his employment was now paramount in her head. Nothing on earth would ever persuade her to work for that bastard ever again.

  When Joanne called in an hour later, she was shocked to see the sorry state her mother was in, her face pale and bruised as she sat weeping in a chair by the fire. ‘What on earth has happened? Have you had an accident, Mam?’

  ‘Not sure I should tell you.’

  ‘Yes, you must.’ After pouring her a glass of water to drink, Joanne wiped her mother’s eyes and sat beside her to give her a cuddle. ‘Go on, I’m listening.’

  Evie briefly told her what she’d gone through today and how she’d had to fight and bash him before managing to escape. Then she went on to mention how Mullins had demanded sex in return for what he’d done to save Danny.

  ‘Oh, my God! Thank goodness you managed to protect yourself and escape. What a dreadful father and son the Mullinses are. It’s entirely wrong that they have this flaw within them to abuse and assault women and girls.’ It was then that Joanne finally told her mother what Megan too had suffered years ago and more recently down by the canal when Danny had thankfully saved her. ‘She’d blocked it out of her head for years but we all agree who it was who created this havoc for her, that stupid lad who again attempted to fondle her. What a nightmare they are.’

  Evie looked deeply shocked and alarmed. ‘Thank you for telling me this whole sorry tale she suffered. I did suspect something had happened to upset Megan.’

  ‘It was indeed a dreadful disaster for my young sister. I protected her by moving her away, thankfully to Blackpool where these lovely ladies accepted us. Having been threatened a second time that’s partly the real reason she’s moved back now, in order to remain safe. Danny spoke to that dreadful lad, ordering him never to touch his sister ever again. There’s nothing more we can do about it. We must simply live with the reality of what happened, not having any genuine proof. Please don’t mention to Megan and Danny what I’ve told you; I’ve no wish to upset them. I confess the three of us made a pact not to tell you, Mam. We were anxious not to risk you losing your job and home by complaining to Harold Mullins about what his son did to her, which could put you in an even greater mess. But hearing what he did to you, I decided you deserved to be told. I’m hoping you will now resign, Mam. Do tell me what you intend to do.’

  Evie took a furious deep breath. ‘That lad is a nasty piece of work. I’m relieved to think Megan is safely settled back in Blackpool. She will be home soon for the summer when we must keep a careful watch over her.’

  ‘We must indeed.’

  ‘And yes, I do intend to stop working for that bastard, then will make a strong effort to build up my own business.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Evie rewrote a letter of resignation to Harold Mullins a dozen times before reducing it to a simple statement, taking out all the rants and complaints she’d felt the need to state. Best to mention nothing of these resentments she felt towards her employer and his son, and simply ensure she was merely stating how she now wished to work for herself. Once it was done she asked Danny if he’d push it through Harold’s letterbox for her.

  ‘I’ve at last come to the decision to leave this job and work for myself,’ she said, making no mention of the true reason. Were her son to be aware of the attack Mullins had made upon her that could insight him to seek justice, which would result in danger for him too.

  ‘’Course, Mam, no problem,’ he agreed, and took it off with him the very next morning to deliver it on his way to the tug where he worked on the canal.

  Receiving no response to her resignation or any apology for what he did to her, she was filled with a sickening fear that Harold Mullins might attempt to assault her again, praying that would never happen. Whenever Evie went out to do a little shopping, she kept a close eye on whether he was following her. It was one morning as she was trotting along Wood Street that she was horrified to see him approach and noticed elements of a bruise on his forehead, most of it no doubt being under his hair which was where she’d hit him with that thick piece of coal.

  ‘Ah, there you are. You’ve not delivered any of those paid debts people owe me for some days. Why is that?’

  ‘You know damn well, Harold, that I’ve resigned. My son delivered it to your door the other day. How can you pretend not to understand the reason I did that?’

  ‘I assume your reason was very stupid. You’re a most difficult and obstinate woman if still quite attractive.’ He gently rubbed his hand over his sore head then gave a smirk of laughter. ‘You may have asked your son to deliver that resignation but I’m not convinced he did. Can’t recall spotting it at all. Young Danny would be aware that you couldn’t survive without the income you earn from me and probably feared losing the home he lives in. However, now that you’ve lost your husband and I daresay most of his pension, I’d be happy to accommodate you. Would you care to move in and live with me? That would be gradely, as we make a good team in many ways.’

  ‘Never! Nor have I any wish to work for you ever again in my entire life. As I explained when I resigned. Having lost my darling husband and children, who are mainly accommodated elsewhere, I no longer feel any need for a large income so wish to be free to work for myself.’

  ‘I reckon you will come back to work for me, once you’ve got over your loss. Otherwise you’d need to keep your entire family out of my way,’ he sourly snapped and marched away.

  What did he mean by that? Evie wondered, feeling a nugget of fear escalate within her. Taking a sigh, she strived to convince herself that she’d safely made her point and did
n’t for a moment believe his tale that Danny hadn’t delivered her resignation. Most definitely a lie. Apart from caring for her son, her two daughters were living in places Mullins wasn’t aware of. But would she be safely free of him? God help her if she wasn’t.

  When she told Danny she’d again been pestered by Mullins to remain in that debt-collecting job, he assured her that he had indeed delivered her resignation. ‘Don’t worry, Mam, you’ve made the right decision.’

  She had indeed, and how she loved making lace and knitting by hand. In the weeks following Donald’s death, Evie concentrated on working hard for herself. Keeping her mind occupied with this helped her to cope with her bleak sense of loss. It came to her that no matter how hard she worked, often till quite late each night no longer being tied up in caring for her darling husband, it took some time for her to create a scarf or a tray cloth to sell. That was because she’d frequently lapse into tears or fall into silent grief. She was determined not to worry if her income was low, although it was slowly improving now that she was regularly running a market stall on Campfield Market. Concentrating on resolving how she could earn more money, she began to spend time thinking what could be done to produce more goods to sell. Recalling the conversation she’d had with Joanne, it was then that an idea came to her.

  Determined to remain free from the demands Mullins had made upon her by earning herself a decent income, she called to see Mr Eccles, the one-time owner of the mill. Now that it had closed she quickly explained her future plan and asked if he’d any of those looms left that she could use for creating lace, were she able to find the appropriate money to purchase them. ‘I would need to rent somewhere to work on them, were you to have one or two available,’ she explained politely.

  This old man sounded fascinated and greatly admiring of her plan, apologizing for dismissing her and many other women who’d been good workers. ‘The mill having been partly bombed during the war and the textile industry in something of a mess, it was no longer in profit. I too was in a sorry state over the loss of family members and lost interest in carrying on working, no longer being young. I did what I could for a while, many men having been in need of employment, but eventually decided it was time for me to retire. I paid them a modest sum each when I dismissed them. I still haven’t got around to selling the mill, very much doubt I’ll ever succeed in that, the country also in a desperate state. However, you’d be welcome to rent one of my outdoor buildings if you like, Mrs Talbert,’ he offered, much to her delight.

  ‘What a kind man you are,’ she said. ‘That would be wonderful.’

  He named a reasonable cost for the machines and rental of an outbuilding, which Evie gratefully accepted. She then went to call and see her bank manager to discuss the plan and details she’d agreed with the previous mill owner, requesting a modest loan to cover these costs. He listened most carefully and, to her great relief, made a good offer. It would seem she could now make a strong move forward.

  Meeting up with her two friends, Enid Wilson and Lizzie Parkin, who’d also lost their jobs at the end of the war, as well as her niece, Evie explained the details of her small business plan, expressing a request to know if they’d like to work for her. They instantly agreed, as they too were well experienced at textile work.

  ‘By heck, I’d love to work for you, still being unemployed,’ Enid stated.

  ‘Me too,’ Lizzie Parkin agreed, ‘being currently employed in a part-time job and earning very little money.’

  Evie warmly thanked them all, beginning to feel a strong optimism for her future. How delighted she was to reach a happy agreement with these three good women workers.

  ‘I’d be happy to knit or create lace material by hand at home, being mainly tied up with caring for Heather,’ Cathie said. ‘Now happily married, I reckon I’m pregnant, so could have a baby of my own soon.’

  ‘Oh, congratulations. That’s a thrill to hear,’ Evie said, giving her a hug, as did Enid and Lizzie.

  ‘I can’t say I’m an expert at this sort of assignment but I’ve always enjoyed knitting and sewing. As you know, my mother Rona worked in a cotton mill all her life, so I learned a great deal from her. I used to work in the tyre factory down by the docks, then having lost that job after the war worked instead in a Christmas card factory with Brenda. My friend is now happily occupied in a biscuit company but this would be much more attractive for me. I really fancy it.’

  ‘It’ll take a little time for me to arrange it but meanwhile I’ll provide you with the necessary material so that you can all start by hand-knitting socks or a fine lace shawl. Then once I have the machines delivered and set up, Enid and Lizzie can make a start working on them with me and you can decide what you wish to create.’

  ‘That’s great to know,’ Lizzie said with a grin.

  Promising to keep them informed, Evie hurried home. Settling at the kitchen table she wrote a list of jobs that needed to be done: renting and cleaning whichever of those outbuildings appeared appropriate; checking two or three of the necessary looms before having them moved over. She must then buy yarn and wool of various colours, including plenty of white for the lace; and a selection of buttons. She would also copy out the patterns she’d designed and bought. How wonderful to be free of that dreadful job and now to be facing a business of her own that would be entirely fascinating.

  It was as Danny walked along Castle Quay towards the canal the next day that he found himself struck and knocked over. Assuming it was Willie again starting a fight he whipped round to jump to his feet ready to hit him back, only to find himself astonished to discover that it was actually that lad’s father, Harold Mullins. He tactfully dropped his fist but gave a glower of fury. ‘Why the hell did you do that?’

  ‘Tell your mother that she must keep on working for me otherwise you’ll lose your job too,’ he snarled.

  ‘What the hangment are ye talking about? Why would she keep working for yer when she’s clearly fed up wi’ a job involved in illegal betting? Being an independent and quite talented lady, Mam has decided to work for herself. I delivered her letter of resignation to you so you’ve no right to expect her to return, or threaten to ruin my job either.’

  Stepping forward, Mullins almost spat in Danny’s face, very much stinking of whisky. ‘Your mother owes me thanks for how I saved you from jail. So if she doesn’t carry on collecting the debts she’s recently failed to get, let alone show her appreciation for my assistance, I’ll make the point to your employer what a thief you are and mek damn sure you lose your job too.’

  Danny felt a blast of fear rattle in his chest, stunned by this remark. Watching Mullins walk away with a smirk in his twisted mouth and a gleam of triumph in his bloodshot eyes, Danny came to an instant decision. Not for the world would he attempt to persuade his mother to continue working for this bastard. Mebbe he should leave the area were he to carry out this threat. Not a pleasant thought but possibly the only sensible thing to do. Where to go and what to do was very much the question. Not easy to decide. He could but hope the pressure to leave wouldn’t occur, he thought as he went to bed.

  It was around dawn that he heard a hammering on the door. Danny went to answer it then gave a shout, ‘Mam, we’re being ordered to leave this house.’

  Running downstairs in her dressing gown, Evie looked appalled to find two men tossing her precious belongings out into the street. It was indeed a shock and desperately infuriating. Faced with being moved out was something of a disaster. Where on earth could they live now?

  Leaving Danny in charge of their belongings piled in a heap on the pavement with the troubling threat of rain very much prevalent, Evie hurried to the town hall in Albert Square, determined to reveal her problem and hope they could find a new home for her. She had contacted the local authority on several occasions and they’d promised to let her know as soon as they found one. As she hurried along Deansgate, she kept glancing behind her, feeling the strange sensation she could hear someone following her. Could it be Haro
ld Mullins? She dreaded that prospect.

  On reaching the town hall, she sat in a queue for an hour or more but to her relief was finally called to receive attention. Carefully giving details of how she’d been banished from her home, now working for herself instead of the person who owned it, she tactfully made no mention of his attempt to assault her. Evie had no wish to risk worse problems if Mullins found her making such a charge. All she needed to do was carefully avoid him in future.

  The conversation began with questions about the size of her family and how many rooms she’d require. Evie explained that her husband had recently died, her son was now home and although her daughters were living elsewhere as a consequence of being evacuees during the war, they too did visit her on occasions. ‘I’m not in an easy situation but do care deeply for my family and feel the need to accommodate them.’

  ‘So sorry to hear these troubles you have been through, Mrs Talbert. We do have something to offer,’ the kind lady involved in dealing with this difficult social problem warmly assured her. She went on to explain how Manchester was still struggling to find enough money to build new homes but had apparently spent a fortune on providing hundreds of prefabs. ‘These were not cheap to build but there is one available for you to rent, as you certainly have no need to buy one. Admittedly they have no foundations and are rather small but well equipped with fitted cupboards, a bathroom, wash boiler, electricity, gas cooker and generally a small garden.’

  ‘Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you so much. Where is it, exactly?’

  The lady carefully showed her a map of them in Heaton Park.

  Depression struck her, it being not at all where she wished to live. ‘Oh, but that’s a few miles away from Castlefield where my son works and me too. Have you anything nearer?’

  Searching again through her papers, she said, ‘Maybe a room in a lodging house on Byrom Street. You must appreciate that houses are still in very short supply. Ah, there’s a two-bedroom flat over a shop on Ivy Street. Would that do for you?’