by Rosie Clarke
‘I’m really sorry. Is there nothing anyone can do to help?’
‘In some ways, it would be better if Dad came home for good and took charge of things – but I know he would say I had to stay home to care for her and Milly. At least this way I get some time here and a bit of money of my own.’ And, Marion knew, her father’s temper made life unhappy for them all. They needed his wages but perhaps it was better that he stayed away.
Maggie knew that her friend’s small wage mostly went on food for her family, but she got a shilling or two to spend when there was a bonus. Because the more valuable items attracted more bonuses, Mrs Burrows had decreed that if anyone on the department earned a bonus it was split between all the girls equally. It made the system fairer, because, otherwise, those selling small-value items would not stand a chance of earning extra. Janice had pulled a face over that, declaring it unfair, but she’d taken her share when Maggie had earned the five shillings on three occasions and she hadn’t said no when Mrs Burrows had shared her own bonus. It was usually the jewellery counter that earned the most bonuses and that was why Mrs Burrows had decided on the share system.
‘It wouldn’t be fair to the rest of you if I took it all,’ she’d said. ‘So, we are going to share it out once a month. I shall take charge of the bonuses and then it will be split equally between the four of us.’
Janice had looked sulky, but as yet she hadn’t earned a bonus herself and so she’d stopped calling it unfair. Maggie had wondered why the hat department wasn’t selling as much as it had when Beth had been on that counter, but now she thought she knew. Janice tucked a wisp of reddish-brown hair behind her ear, giving Maggie an odd look. She had a sulky way with her and Maggie thought she might be a little sly. She made up to Mrs Harper whenever she entered the department, making sure that she looked busy, but Mrs Burrows had told Marion to rearrange the displays of hats on more than one occasion because Janice had neglected to match the colours properly. She just grabbed whatever came next instead of picking them thoughtfully.
When they returned to the department after their lunch, Janice was serving a customer with scarves. She sold one, packed it and took the money and then glared at Maggie as she returned to her counter.
‘She came back for that green one with the tassels,’ she said grudgingly. ‘I haven’t crossed it out – because you’re back so you can do it.’
Maggie nodded and went to her receipts book as Janice left for her break. She noticed that Janice had sold two other scarves but neither of them had been crossed off in the stock list. Frowning, she drew a neat line through them.
‘Is something wrong, Miss Gibbs?’ Mrs Burrows asked.
‘No, it’s all right,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m just checking on what has been sold…’
‘Yes, I see.’ Mrs Burrows nodded. ‘I know three scarves were sold – even though I was busy on my own counter.’
Maggie bit her lip. ‘Is – is Miss Browning in trouble?’
Mrs Burrows hesitated, then, ‘She has been warned, Miss Gibbs. I dare say you know why and I have nothing more to say.’
‘Yes, Mrs Burrows.’
Maggie decided to check through her sales book and her stock. Nothing else was missing, but she would keep an eye on Janice Browning in future. If she hadn’t spotted the discrepancy, she could have been blamed for stock going astray. Had Janice done that deliberately, hoping to get her into trouble? The girl could be friendly when she chose, but she was sulky and sly and Maggie didn’t quite trust her. She wondered whether she should speak to Marion or Mrs Burrows, but didn’t like telling tales about her colleagues. However, in Maggie’s opinion she wasn’t to be trusted…
Minnie returned to her room after taking half an hour for lunch. She had a special order she wanted to get on with so had returned earlier than she needed. As she entered the sewing room, the smell of flowers made her look for the source and she was surprised to see a tiny bunch of lily of the valley and violets in a little glass vase on her table.
‘Oh, how lovely,’ she said involuntarily and went to pick it up and smell the delicate perfume. Her favourite flowers were roses, of course, but as yet they were only in tight buds, but next to them, she loved these lily of the valley and violets.
Who could have brought her such a gift? Minnie tried to think but couldn’t imagine who would do such a thing. Rachel was a good friend, but it wasn’t the sort of thing she would do, though she would mention them to her friend that evening just to make sure – but if it wasn’t her, who else could it be? It was a lovely surprise and romantic in a way… but Minnie didn’t think she had any admirers. Unless… A flush swept up her cheeks. Surely it couldn’t be? And yet Jonathan Stockbridge was possibly the only person in the world who knew about her love of these flowers…
12
Ma hadn’t touched a thing all day, though she’d been down to make herself a cup of tea and it looked like the last piece of cake Marion had made the previous Sunday had gone, but the loaf and nutritious cheese were untouched. It was almost as if her mother was willing herself to die…
Sighing, Marion washed all the dishes that her brothers had left that morning after she’d departed for her work at Harpers and then started peeling potatoes, carrots and slicing onions. She’d bought two shillings’ worth of sausages and Mr Barlow had slipped an extra one on for her after removing them from the scales, giving her a wink behind his employer’s back. It meant that Robbie and Dickon could have two, while she, Kathy and Milly had one – because Marion knew that if she gave one to her mother, it would be wasted.
Another treat would be the sweet piccalilli that Kathy had made at cookery classes at school. It was absolutely delicious and the jar was already half eaten, but now that Kathy knew how to make it, she would do so as often as they could afford the ingredients.
Once the vegetables were gently boiling on the range, Marion went upstairs to see if her mother needed anything. She was lying back with her eyes shut and didn’t speak until Marion asked if she wanted some tea and toast.
‘I have some honey – or an egg I could poach or scramble…’
‘Toast and a little honey please,’ Mrs Kaye mumbled. ‘I’m not really hungry, but I suppose I must….’
‘Only one slice, Ma?’ Marion said, looking at her anxiously, because some days she seemed as if she’d lost the will to live. ‘You’re not sick, are you?’
‘Just sick of life…’ came the answer.
‘Oh, Ma, won’t you at least try – for Milly’s sake?’
Her mother sighed. ‘Mrs Jackson took her for a walk and I think she’s still there…’
‘Yes, I know,’ Marion said. ‘She waved to me from their garden when I came home – she’s playing football with one of the lads.’
Milly was playing with Reggie. He sometimes got home earlier than Marion, because she had to shop after she left Harpers and he’d obviously decided to play with Milly until Kathy and the boys came home. Dickon was with them and they would all be in for their tea soon enough.
‘Sorry, I’m late,’ Kathy said, bursting into the kitchen as Marion was spreading honey on her mother’s toast. ‘Mrs Bright asked me to have tea with Jilly as it was her birthday and she showed me her presents – and gave me a huge slice of cake. There’s enough for all of us…’ She pulled a face. ‘Jilly’s mother made her a new dress and her elder brother bought her a silver locket and chain.’
‘She is a lucky girl,’ Marion said. ‘Don’t envy her, Kathy. I’ll make you a new dress as soon as I can manage it.’ Her wage at Harpers was small, but she had her share of the bonus and she might earn more soon if she did well at work.
‘I know – and I don’t mind. I only went because Jilly asked me to tea and it makes more for the others if I’ve had mine…’ she said generously, as thoughtful as always.
‘That was kind of Mrs Bright,’ Marion said. ‘Did you have a nice tea?’
‘We had salmon and cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off, sausage rolls, straw
berry jelly with tinned peaches and birthday cake.’
‘Goodness me!’ Marion said. ‘You were treated. I didn’t realise it was such a splendid tea.’
‘Jilly’s birthday was on Sunday, but her mother said she could bring her best friend to tea today and she chose me…’
‘Lucky you,’ Marion said. ‘You won’t want any sausages then this evening?’
‘I’m full up.’
‘I’ll have Kathy’s share,’ Dickon offered, coming in with Milly in his wake. ‘I’m starving…’
‘You always are – you can share it with Robbie or take it cold in a sandwich tomorrow.’
‘Shall I take Ma’s toast up?’ Kathy said as Marion went to put the sausages in the frying pan.
‘Yes, please,’ Marion replied over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got the kettle on, but you can set the table when you get back…’
Marion concentrated on frying the sausages, which were brown and sizzling when Robbie came in and hung his jacket and rucksack on the back of the door. As he opened the back door, Reggie’s dog poked his nose in, wagging his tail excitedly.
‘Watch out he doesn’t grab the sausages!’ Marion yelled and Robbie shooed the dog away. It looked reproachfully at Marion, as if she’d somehow let it down, but she wasn’t tempted to feed it. Reggie fed the dog himself and it was just drawn by the tempting smell.
‘That smells good, Sis, no wonder that dog was wagging its tail,’ he said and grinned at her. ‘I’ve just seen Reggie next door – you do know he’s crackers about yer, don’t yer?’ Robbie looked pleased with life. ‘Reggie has got two tickets for the footie this weekend – Chelsea is playing and he’s taking me with him. I reckon he thinks it’s the way to yer ’eart – spoilin’ me to get to you…’
‘Robbie, don’t talk daft!’ Marion felt her cheeks burning. ‘He isn’t – he’s just friendly with us all.’
‘Oh yeah, well that’s why he gets that soppy look on his face when he talks about you,’ Robbie said. ‘He asked me if I thought you would go to the church social with him on Saturday night…’
‘No, of course not,’ Marion said hastily. ‘I never heard anything so silly… besides, I shall take Kathy and Dickon, and Milly can come too if Ma isn’t well enough to look after her.’
The social at St Peter’s was a family occasion. Mothers, fathers, grandmothers, brothers, sisters and young children were all welcome and the entertainment was a mixture of dancing to a quartet hired for the occasion, tombola draws, whist drives and lots of people just sitting about eating rolls of cheese or salad and drinking tea or range squash. Invariably, the older men disappeared during the evening and popped into the nearest pub for a beer, before returning in time to escort their family home. Only the young men who were courting stayed all evening to dance with the girl of their choice.
‘What about me?’ Robbie asked. ‘Why am I left out?’
‘I didn’t think you wanted to come,’ Marion challenged. ‘Last time, you said it was for sissies and wouldn’t go with us…’
‘Well, this time I shall – and I’ll help pay for the tickets.’ His grin grew broader. ‘I got a pay rise this week, an extra five bob! What do yer think of that then?’
‘Oh, Robbie, that’s wonderful,’ Marion said. ‘You must keep it for whatever you want. You already give me two thirds of what you earn – more when it’s rent day.’
‘I’ll keep an extra three bob fer meself and give yer the two,’ Robbie offered. ‘I know how hard yer work, Marion, and they don’t pay yer much.’
‘I’ll get a rise in the summer,’ Marion said and smiled at him. ‘Mrs Burrows says we’ll all get five shillings each bonus at the end of this month – unless we earn more.’
‘You should buy yerself somethin’,’ Robbie said. ‘Get a bit of material from the market and ask Mrs Jackson to help yer make a new dress – she’s got a sewing machine that works…’
Their mother’s machine had jammed years ago and no one had repaired it. Mr Kaye claimed he had no time and it would be too expensive to take it to a shop, so any mending or making had to be done by hand.
‘She might let me borrow hers,’ Marion said. ‘I don’t need many clothes, because I wear my uniform for work – but I should like a new dress for Sunday best.’
‘You ask her,’ Robbie said and winked. ‘I’ll bet she’ll offer to help you out.’
‘Well, I might,’ Marion said, feeling pleased, because Robbie’s pay rise would make a big difference. She could save the extra two shillings he gave her to use for emergencies. It would be there to help with the rent or any unforeseen bill they had to meet.
Marion popped next door after she’d finished ironing her brothers’ shirts and sorting the dirty washing to soak in the copper. Mrs Jackson opened the door herself with a big smile. Reggie’s dog had decided to forgive her for not giving him a sausage and came bounding over, rubbing himself round her legs.
‘Come in, love,’ Mrs Jackson said. ‘That stupid hound of Reggie’s seems to have taken to you. I’ve just made some cocoa; do you fancy a cup?’
‘I’ll be making ours when I get back,’ Marion said but followed her into the kitchen, where Paula and Reggie were seated at the table, playing a game of cards and laughing at each other.
‘Here, Daftie,’ Reggie said and his dog settled at his side. ‘I hope he didn’t bother you, Marion?’
‘No, of course not.’ She blushed as he grinned at her, recalling her brother’s remarks.
‘Sit down then, Marion,’ her friendly neighbour said and pushed a plate of biscuits in front of her. ‘I made those ginger ones especially for Reggie, they’re his favourite.’
Marion took one and bit a small piece. It was crumbly and delicious and she ate it all. ‘You are a very good cook, Mrs Jackson.’
‘I’ve got all day to do it,’ she said cheerfully. ‘My men see I don’t have to go out to work.’
Marion nodded, because Mrs Jackson was lucky. All four of the Jackson men worked hard and none of them wasted their wages in the pub; a couple of drinks on a Friday night and they were home to tip their money up on the table.
‘I wanted to make myself a new dress for Sundays,’ Marion said. ‘If I bought some material on the market, would you let me make it on your machine please?’
‘Of course, I will.’ Mrs Jackson beamed at her. ‘You bring it round and I’ll help you cut the pattern and pin it on you to fit and then you can use the machine to sew it.’
‘It’s ever so good of you,’ Marion said shyly. ‘Ma has a treadle machine, but it doesn’t work.’
‘Reggie…’ Mrs Jackson was about to say something, but a flash of the eyes from her son stopped her. ‘Fetch me some wood in, there’s a good lad.’
Reggie got up obediently and went to fetch wood for the fire. ‘One of my lot could probably fix your mother’s machine,’ Mrs Jackson said after he’d gone, ‘but you bring your material round and I’ll help you to make your frock look good. I worked up the dress factory for a couple of years before I married. I’ve done quite a few jobs in my time, afore we were better off like.’ She smiled at her. ‘You’ve got a lovely job, Marion love. I’ve looked in the ground floor, but it’s all too expensive for me…’
‘And me,’ Marion sighed. ‘It’s nice touching the things though, but I couldn’t buy anything.’
‘You don’t need to – a bit of material and the right knowledge and you’ll have a dress as smart as they sell.’
‘Someone told me you had some experience of dressmaking,’ Marion said. ‘I made Kathy a dress for her birthday, but it took me ages to get it right – if you helped, I could probably make her another one as well as mine.’
Reggie returned with a load of wood, which he placed next to a bucket already filled with kindling. He went to the sink to wash his hands, and then, without turning his head, ‘I was wondering if you were goin’ to the social, Miss Marion?’
‘Yes, I’m taking them all,’ Marion said but didn’t look at him. ‘Ma won
’t come, but we’ll all go – it is a good night out for everyone and it helps the church funds…’
‘I wondered if you might come with me,’ Reggie said and turned to face her.
Marion’s breath caught in her throat and she hesitated, but then something in his look made her smile.
‘I won’t come with you, Mr Jackson, because I’ll be looking after my younger sisters – but if you ask me to dance, I should like that…’ She blushed furiously, surprised at her own boldness, but his grin told her that he liked it.
‘Right then,’ he said. ‘It’s a promise – you heard her, Ma, Paula, she’s promised to dance with me.’ His eyes teased her. ‘It’s a solemn promise, you can’t go back on it on pain of death.’
‘Stop teasing her, Reggie,’ his mother said. ‘You can walk Marion to her door; make sure she gets back safe.’
Marion stopped herself protesting that she didn’t need an escort to get next door. It wasn’t even dark out and she knew her neighbours too well to fear an attack, but his mother had sent him to give him a chance to talk to her.
Her skin felt hot and prickly as Reggie followed her out of the door. She swallowed because her throat was dry and she didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t seem to have much to say either, but when she reached her door, he touched her arm.
‘I’d like to take you out without your family sometimes, Marion,’ he said. ‘I know you’ve got things to do in the house – but we could go for a walk and tea somewhere on a Sunday afternoon…’
‘Yes, we could,’ Marion smiled, feeling a spurt of excitement. He looked so nervous and that quelled her fear. Reggie was so big and strong and yet there was gentleness in him. She’d seen that when he was playing football with her little sister. ‘I think I should like that, Mr Jackson – but you know my family comes first. I have to look after them.’