by June Tate
‘So?’
‘They’re a couple of the local prostitutes! You’ll have seen them waiting to do business in Canal Walk just by the Horse and Groom.’
‘Their money’s as good as any other,’ Jessie remarked, ‘so what’s the problem?’
‘Bill. He’ll have a fit if he finds out!’
With a laugh, Jessie said, ‘Don’t tell him, then. No doubt they’ll come for fittings when he’s at work?’
‘But what if he’s at home after not being picked in the morning? He’s working today, but you know there’s no guarantee that he’ll be working every day.’
‘He might not know they’re a couple of brasses and, if he recognises them, you tell him your clients are none of his business, just like who he works for is none of yours!’
Daisy looked shocked by the very idea.
‘Now you listen to me, girl. We wives stick with our men through thick and thin, but we must stand up for our rights. Don’t be a doormat or you’ll be treated like one! That’s what my mammy taught me. They are customers to be treated with respect. After all, Daisy, they’re working girls earning a living just like everyone else.’ She burst out laughing. ‘Well, maybe not quite like anyone else.’
‘They want mending done and each wants a dress made for them. It’s good money and they didn’t quibble when I told them my price.’
‘There you go, then, you’re in business. Who knows, Daisy, maybe one day you could have a shop of your own!’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, will you behave.’
‘Ah, Daisy love, we all of us must have a dream, something to strive for.’
‘What’s your dream, Jessie?’
She sat back in the chair and thought for a moment. ‘My own business, maybe, and a small house with a garden, not too big, enough to grow flowers and vegetables and a lawn.’ She hesitated. ‘And a baby in a pram.’ There was such a note of longing in her last statement that Daisy knew instinctively not to remark on it.
Jessie rose to her feet. ‘I have a million things to do before Conor gets home. Now you just get on with your ladies and enjoy the money.’
With Daisy’s predicament at the forefront of her mind, Jessie spoke to her husband that evening. ‘Remember you said you’d have a word with the foreman about getting Bill from next door some work on a more permanent basis?’
‘Yes, I remember.’
‘Could you do it soon? They really need the money and if you could help it would be a blessing.’
He looked fondly at his wife. ‘Why are you so concerned about them, darlin’?’
‘I’ve known hardship and how it can destroy you. They’re a lovely couple. I’d just like to help them out, is all.’
Putting his arm around her he kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll see the man tomorrow.’
Two days later, Daisy knocked on Jessie’s door, her eyes bright with excitement.
‘I’ve just come to tell you that my Bill has been taken on as a member of a gang. Isn’t that marvellous? No more worry about the bills and, even better, he doesn’t need to see my customers!’
‘That’s great news, Daisy. I’m really pleased for you.’ She gave the girl a hug.
‘Must be off,’ said Daisy. ‘I’ve work to do.’
It wasn’t long before, ‘The Coven’, as Jessie called them, realised that two of the ladies of the night were visiting Daisy and, not knowing the reason, began their twisted gossip. As Daisy left her house one morning to shop for food, the three women stood together and, with expressions of distaste, began to question her. Iris Jones was the first.
‘You thinking of going on the game to earn some money now, are you?’
Daisy was puzzled and more than a little shocked by her accusation.
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
The woman leant over Daisy, who stepped back to get away as the odour of stale gin assailed her nostrils. ‘We saw two brasses go in your place. We wondered if they was givin’ you instruction, you know, on how to please a punter.’
The girl was horrified. If these vile women were to tell her husband, she knew her business would be over before it began, but she remembered Jessie telling her not to be a doormat and she glared at them.
‘How dare you! It’s none of your business who comes to my house and if I hear you’ve been spreading rumours, ladies – and I use the term lightly – I’ll report you, Iris Jones, for libel and you, Emily Coates, for not cleaning your house, which must be rat-infested due to the filth you live in. She just glared at the third woman and walked away. But she was trembling from head to foot. As she rounded the corner, she leant against the wall, afraid her shaking legs wouldn’t hold her any longer.
Now she was in a state. If Bill got to know how her customers earned their money, there would be ructions in the house. He was aware she’d advertised and that she was sewing for two ladies and had been pleased to see his wife so animated about her work and earning more money. He’d been really proud of her and told her so. But if he knew the truth … there was only one person she could confide in.
Jessie was surprised to hear the cafe bell tinkle as a customer walked in. Breakfasts were over and it was far too early for lunch, so who could it be? When she walked out of the kitchen, she was very surprised to see Daisy Brown standing there looking worried.
‘Sorry to come to your work, Jessie, but can I have a word?’
Seeing the girl’s hands were shaking, Jessie sat her down, poured two cups of tea and sat at the table with her.
‘Daisy, you look terrible. What on earth is the matter?’
The girl told her of the women who had waylaid her and what was said, then she told her how she’d reacted.
Jessie roared with laughter and slapped Daisy on the back.
‘Good for you, girl! That showed them, and I bet it took them by surprise.’
‘But what if they let on to my Bill? I’ll have failed before I’ve started, ’cause he won’t have those women in his house, I can tell you that for a fact.’
‘Drink your tea, love. I’ll have a word when I go home. I know a few things about those old biddies that they wouldn’t want known, so stop your worrying.’
But when her neighbour had left, Jessie was livid that the three useless and vindictive creatures were in a position to do harm to her friend. Well she’d soon put a stop to that!
Jessie strode purposefully along Union Street and knocked on the door of Iris Jones’s house. Iris looked flummoxed to see Jessie standing there.
With her green eyes flashing with anger, Jessie glared at the woman.
‘I hear you’ve been interfering with the affairs of young Daisy Brown, Iris.’ As the woman opened her mouth to speak, Jessie carried on ‘Now, I’m sure you wouldn’t like your neighbours to know that you go round the market every morning, begging for money, the money you tell the people is for your poor starving children – which you don’t have – when it’s really to buy the gin you pour down your miserable neck!’
The woman paled.
‘The police might be interested to hear how you behave. They don’t like beggars, as you well know, so I suggest you keep your evil thoughts about Daisy Brown to yourself. If I hear you even murmured anything to her husband, I’ll have you. Understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Iris in barely a whisper.
‘I didn’t hear you, Iris!’ said Jessie loudly.
‘Yes!’ This time her utterance was clear. Then she slammed the door.
With a broad grin, Jessie moved along to Emily Coates’ house and banged on the door.
When it was opened, the rancid smell seemed to rush out as if wanting to escape. Jessie stepped back. ‘Jesus Christ, Emily, this place is a health hazard!’
‘What’s it to you?’ the woman snapped.
Jessie grabbed her by her filthy shawl and put her face close to the other woman.
‘If you give Daisy Brown any more grief, I’ll have someone from the council down here to fumigate this place and, when
they see the state of it, you will be out on your ear.’
‘I didn’t say nothing, it was that Iris Jones what did it,’ she said as she grabbed the shawl out of Jessie’s hand.
‘But you were there ready to put in your two pence given the chance, of that I’m sure. Now, I don’t want to hear any more. Understand?’
‘Yeah, I understand, now bugger off!’ She turned and went inside.
As Jessie entered her own home, she was chuckling to herself. She’d not bothered to go to Betty Barnes’ house as she wasn’t a worry, she just stood and let the others spread their gossip. No, she wasn’t a concern, but she felt sure the other two would keep quiet after her visitation.
But the following morning, Jessie was faced with a problem of her own.
Chapter Four
On the dot of seven o’clock, Jessie opened the door of the cafe and locked it behind her. Her employer always came in later, leaving Jessie and the young girl who helped start work on their own, preparing and cooking the food for the day, before opening at eight o’clock. She and her helper, Nancy, who had arrived shortly after Jessie, were busy in the kitchen when George Ames let himself into the premises. He popped his head round the kitchen door.
‘Jessie, can I have a word with you?’
Wiping her hands on a cloth, she went into the cafe. Looking at her boss, she saw his usually florid face was worryingly pale.
‘Are you alright, George?’
‘Come and sit down,’ he said, motioning to a table and chairs. Then he began, ‘I’m going to have to sell up, love.’
This was the last thing she expected and for a moment she was speechless. ‘Blimey, George, that came out of the blue! But for heaven’s sake why?’
‘I haven’t been feeling well and went to the doctor’s … well to cut a long story short, I’ve got a dicky heart and I’ve got to rest, so I’m moving back to Bradford to live with the old folk.’
‘Oh, George, I’m so sorry.’ She didn’t know what else to say she was so shocked. It also meant she would be out of a job. ‘How will you manage, financially?’
‘Oh, I’ve got a bit saved – after all, this is a good business.’ He looked at her with a thoughtful expression. ‘Why don’t you take it over, Jessie?’
‘What?’
‘The building is on a lease; the rent isn’t bad and, let’s face it, you know as much about running it as I do. I’ll sell you my equipment at a decent price, which you could pay back monthly.’
This completely threw her, but then she began to think about it. ‘Let’s get today over and when we close we’ll talk some more. Meantime, perhaps you’ll write down some figures, the rent, how much for the equipment, so I’ll know what it would entail.’
The rest of the working day went by in a blur and they were extra busy, so Jessie didn’t have time to think until she shut the door after the final customer had left, then she sat down with George and the notes that he’d made. After, she went home to discuss the situation with Conor.
They sat together poring over the figures. With them both working they had some savings, enough to pay the rent for three months, but if Jessie took over, she’d have to stock up with fresh food to cook and pay the bills herself. If business was quiet, that could cost them the rest of their savings.
‘What if the business fails?’ Jessie said, frowning with concern.
‘Come now, darlin’, you keep that place going. Without your cooking and personality, George would be quids out of pocket, even if he had another cook. The men like you and are used to you; they wouldn’t enjoy a change, that’s for sure.’
She looked wistful as she said, ‘It’s been my dream to have my own business, but it’s a serious decision to take. All our savings would be gone; we’d have nothing to fall back on if it went pear-shaped.’
‘What are you worried about? I’m earning, and my job is as safe as it can be in the docks. If the cafe failed, which it wouldn’t, my money would still be coming in. It’s up to you, Jessie, but I’m all for it.’
She stretched and yawned. ‘I’ll sleep on it and make up my mind in the morning. Come on, let’s go to bed.’
Curled up in the arms of her sleeping husband, Jessie thought deeply about her customers. Many of them worked in the docks; others were crew members from any of the other ships that docked there. A few were from the liners, but mostly from cargo boats. There was the passing trade too. But most of the days the cafe was busy with her regulars and Jessie knew this was mainly from the fact that she had a reputation as a good cook.
She slipped out of Conor’s hold and, getting out of bed, looked out of the window, the full moon lighting the shabby houses, the narrow street, and she recalled talking about her dream to Daisy. Now she’d been given a chance to take that first step to realising that dream. What a fool she would be if she turned it down!
The next morning, as she cooked Conor’s breakfast, she told him of her decision.
‘I’ve decided to accept George’s offer.’
‘You’ve made the right decision, Jessie love.’ He rose from his chair and gathered her into his arms. ‘You are an amazin’ woman, Jessie. You’re a brilliant cook. You’re a bright and clever being, so you are, and I love you.’ He kissed her. ‘And I’m a lucky so-and-so to have you as me wife. I’ll see you tonight, now go and be a businesswoman! But don’t get too full of yourself that you won’t share me bed at night, because that I won’t agree to!’
‘Ah, there’s no fear of that, Conor McGonigall. Where else would I find such a good kisser?’
He raised his eyebrows as he said, ‘Well I certainly hope my other skills as a lover are equally appreciated?’
She gave him a playful push. ‘Go on with you, fishing for compliments. I’ve not left you, so you must be doing something right!’
At the end of the day she sat with George and told him she would accept the offer.
He beamed at her. ‘Thank goodness for that. I’d have dreaded having to close up until another buyer could be found. Now then, I’ll have to give a month’s notice, but I’ll put your name forward. Let’s have a fresh pot of coffee to celebrate, but I think we should keep this all to ourselves for now. We don’t want to make waves with the customers and have to face a lot of questions as to my reason for leaving.’
‘What will you say when the time comes?’
‘I’ll say I’ve decided to retire, that’s all.’
As they drank the coffee and chatted, Jessie cast an eye around the dining room. It could do with a lick of paint. When she made some money she’d have it done to smarten up the place. Perhaps she’d make a few cakes to sell as well. The men might like to buy one to have later in the docks with a cup of tea. The odd picture on the walls would brighten the room as well. A million thoughts went through her mind as she sat considering renting the cafe.
They bought their meat at the local butcher in Canal Walk. She’d insisted on that when she took the job. Not any old meat for her customers. Cheap cuts from a good butcher was the way to keep the bills down and this had worked well, so she’d not change that. Once a week she’d go to the market for vegetables and buy in bulk for the week ahead. But the changes to the interior would be taken slowly. Men didn’t take kindly to too much change at once, this she knew. She began to feel really excited at the prospect.
But in a small community, news soon spreads and somehow the grapevine learnt of George’s impending departure, but not the reason why. Neither of them had said a word, but someone had found out. Her customers were delighted when they questioned Jessie and she told them she planned to take over.
Then one day a stranger came in for lunch. He was rather smartly dressed as opposed to the usual customer in their working clothes and Jessie wondered who he was. It soon became clear when, after he’d eaten, he asked to speak to the owner.
Jessie became watchful as the two men talked, but when she saw George becoming angry, she began to worry about his heart and she walked over to them.
; ‘Everything alright?’ she asked her employer.
‘No, it isn’t!’ snapped George. ‘This gentleman wants to take over the cafe and I’ve told him the place already has a new buyer, but he’s insistent and is going to see the company that owns the premises.’ George looked doleful and added, ‘I had to tell him nothing had been signed when he asked.’
The man looked at Jessie. ‘You’re an excellent cook; perhaps you’ll come and work for me when I take over?’
‘Not in a million years,’ she said and walked back into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed with anger. She was in despair. She had yet to sign any contract to take over the business, so had no redress if the company decided to sell to another buyer. If this man offered to pay a higher rent, then her dreams went down the drain as there was no way she and Conor could afford to pay more. There was nothing she could do about it, but she certainly wouldn’t work for the man who took away her chance of a lifetime.
When the stranger had left, George went into the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry, Jessie, but there’s nothing I can do to stop him. Cheeky bugger even gave me his business card! As if I would ever need it.’
‘Can I have it please?’ He handed it over. It read LARRY FORBES. DIRECTOR and listed a Southampton address.
‘I don’t want it because this is out of my hands, unfortunately,’ said George.
‘I know. Now you’re not to worry, it isn’t good for you. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.’ But as she walked away, she was fearful of the outcome.
Two days later, she received a letter from the company who owned the building. It told her there had been an offer on the premises with an increase of the rent. It stated that if she was prepared to make a counter-offer, they would consider it and gave her a week to respond.
She put the letter aside with a deep sigh. There was no way she could top the offer; they didn’t have the funds. But she hated being beaten by that self-satisfied man who’d offered her a job when he took over! She was even more incensed when he walked into the cafe later that morning, smiling.