by Rosie Clarke
‘Damn you!’ Sally said and twitched by him, furious at his goading.
She went into the hostel and marched straight up to Sylvia’s room. The key was in her bag, where she’d kept it since that night, and she let herself in, picking up Sylvia’s stuff and throwing it on the bed in a temper. There were two cases on the top of the wardrobe. She dragged them down and threw the first things in, then realised that unless she packed them properly, she wouldn’t get everything in. So she took everything out, folded it neatly and packed the cases. Then she checked the room, under the bed and in the drawers and the wardrobe.
Satisfied that the room was empty of Sylvia’s stuff, Sally went out into the hall and saw Jean watching her from the stairs. ‘So you do know where she went,’ Jean said spitefully. ‘I know what happened that night and one day I’ll prove it…’
‘You’re a nasty bit of work and I never listen to a word you say,’ Sally said and ignored her.
Jean pushed at her as they passed on the stairs, but Sally resisted the instinctive urge to give her one back.
‘You’ll get yer comeuppance one of these days…’ Jean called after her spitefully.
Sally would be glad when she could move out of this place for good and thought of the most recent flat she’d seen with Rachel Craven. It had been dirty and smelly and they’d turned it down immediately. Finding a place to live was proving far more difficult than Sally had ever imagined.
Crossing the small alley to the pub, she carried both the cases inside and stood looking round. It was nicer than she would have thought, the oak wood shining and decorated with horse brasses and buckets of bright geraniums at either end of the bar. Several oak tables were set at intervals in the large room, though most of the men sat or stood at the bar. Couples sat drinking at the tables and Sylvia was sitting at one in the corner talking to an older woman.
Sally walked towards her and Sylvia jumped up, waving as she saw her. She came rushing forward to take the bags from Sally and ushered her to a spare seat.
‘I’ve got everything,’ Sally said. ‘Mick says you’re all right – are you?’
‘Yes, I’m fine now, honestly.’ Sally turned as if to leave, but Sylvia caught her arm. ‘Sit down, Sally – please, just for a moment. This is my friend Marlene – she owns a pub/restaurant over in Southwark and she’s given me a job waiting tables and behind the bar.’
Marlene didn’t get up. Her hair was blonde and she was wearing bright red lipstick. At first glance she might have been mistaken for a street walker, but when she smiled, something told Sally that there was no nonsense about this landlady.
‘Pleased ter meet yer, Miss Ross,’ she said and extended her hand across the glasses on the table. ‘Sylvia told me what yer did fer her and I reckon yer must be a good friend. Sylvia will be all right wiv me – I’ll take care of her and if ever yer in a spot of bother yerself, just come and see me…’
‘Thank you, Miss… Sorry, I don’t know what to call you…’
‘I’m Marlene to me friends and a holy terror to them what ain’t,’ Marlene said and grinned at her. ‘I can see yer a decent young lady, so I shan’t ask yer to have a drink wiv us – but don’t forget. Me pub is the Anvil and Hammer and we sell the best beer in London – and that includes Mick’s, even if he is me best mate.’
‘Thank you,’ Sally said. ‘I shan’t have a drink, but I will sit with you for a moment.’
‘I can’t pay what you lent me yet,’ Sylvia said awkwardly.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Sally said. ‘I’ve been given a much better job and it’s more money, so keep what I lent you, Sylvia. I’m glad you’ve found a decent job and that things are all right now.’
‘Yes, they’re fine…’ Sylvia looked at Marlene and blushed. ‘I know what a fool I was and I shan’t be taken in like that again.’
‘You aren’t the only young woman to be led astray by a smooth tongued man,’ Marlene said. ‘You were just lucky you had good friends, otherwise it might have ended very differently.’
‘I thought you’d decided to go back to the country?’ Sally asked.
Sylvia shrugged. ‘It was so boring. I couldn’t put up with it, so I came back and asked Mick for a job – he sent me to Marlene, so I was lucky.’ She looked at Sally oddly. ‘Mick is a lovely bloke, Sally.’
‘He was a good friend to us both,’ Sally acknowledged. She was aware that Mick had been staring at her for a while and got to her feet. ‘I’d better go now. Good luck, Sylvia – and thank you, Marlene. It was nice to meet you.’
‘Don’t you forget me,’ Marlene told her and smiled. ‘I’ve always got room for another pair of hands…’
Sally nodded but made no reply. She walked towards the door and then stopped and went up to the bar, looking straight at Mick.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m grateful for what you did for us.’
‘It’s what friends do,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget I’m here when you need a friend, Sally.’
‘I don’t expect to be here very long,’ she said. ‘I’m looking at another flat with a friend of mine tomorrow evening and we hope to rent it together, if it’s worth havin’…’
‘Then I hope you’ll be happy,’ he said, but his eyes were hard.
‘Mrs Craven is the supervisor for the department I worked at first,’ Sally told him sharply. ‘She is a widow and very respectable, Mr Whatever your name is…’
‘It’s O’Sullivan, if you’re askin’.’ The twinkle was back in his eyes. ‘But my friends call me Mick – as you know well…’
‘Thank you, Mr O’Sullivan,’ she said and glared at him. She flounced off with his laughter in her ears, feeling annoyed.
‘Yes, this is the best we’ve seen and at a rent we can afford,’ Rachel agreed when Sally declared that she loved the small flat just off Kingsway they’d just been shown. ‘I suggest we tell the agent that we want it immediately or it will be gone and we’ll lose it again.’
It was the third possible flat they’d been shown by the same agent. The first had been bigger and they’d both liked it, but the owner had wanted a family because he wasn’t sure two women would be able to pay the rent; the second had been damp and smelled unpleasant, but this was just right.
‘It is perfect for us, Rachel,’ Sally said. Two bedrooms of similar size, each with a double bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers and bedside chest. The sitting room had a sofa and two chairs, a bookcase and a little coffee table. It was a little bare, but they could buy a few bits and pieces to make it look more like a home; the bathroom looked quite new and was a real luxury because they would only have to share with each other, and the kitchen, though tiny, was adequate for their needs. ‘We can walk into work from here.’
A strike had started in the London Docks and was turning nasty in recent days, the van drivers who had tried to break the stranglehold the Dockers had were attacked and threatened. The papers had hazarded a guess that the unrest might lead to a larger strike that affected transport all over the city, but if that happened it would still be easy to get to work from this flat.
‘I have some small things I can bring with me. I’ve been storing them,’ Rachel smiled her agreement. ‘Yes, I like it very much, Sally, and I hope we can secure it this time.’
‘We’ll tell the agent now,’ Sally said. ‘I have my five pound deposit ready, do you?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Rachel said. ‘I think three pounds and ten shillings a month is quite reasonable for a flat in this area, but they have asked for a steep deposit from us.’
‘Mr Bramble told me the owner wanted security. He thinks if we can pay ten pounds’ deposit to the agent, we shall pay our rent every month – and we were turned down last time because we had no male relative to vouch for us.’
‘I know how you feel,’ Rachel said and laughed softly at Sally’s look of outrage. ‘Not only do we not have the vote, we cannot even go into a public house alone without being thought fast or a woman of the streets. It is high time wo
men were given the vote, don’t you agree?’
‘Oh yes, I do,’ Sally replied and her eyes lit fervently. ‘Jenni Harper mentioned something about being a member of a group for women’s emancipation, but we had so much to cram into such a short time that we didn’t explore it…’
‘Yes, I must admit she did push you in at the deep end rather,’ Rachel said as they went through to the hall, where the agent was waiting for them, looking rather impatiently at his silver pocket watch.
‘We’ve decided to take it,’ Sally said decisively. She opened her bag. ‘We can pay you the deposit and the first month’s rent now if you wish…’
‘Could you come into the office in the morning tomorrow?’ he asked, looking relieved. ‘I’m glad you like it, Miss Ross – Mrs Craven. Your references are all in order, of course?’
‘I have one from a former employer,’ Rachel said.
Sally hesitated, then, ‘Yes, Mr Harper will give me one, I’m sure.’
‘I know that you are both perfectly respectable young women, but we do have to ask for these things…’
‘I shall bring them in the morning,’ Sally said, mentally grinding her teeth. Would the agent have been so fussy if they’d been men? She doubted it and it made her angry, but she held the irritation inside. It meant she would have to ask Mr Harper for a reference, but there was really no one else she could ask.
‘Well,’ Rachel said as they walked away. ‘All we can hope is that we’re lucky enough to get the tenancy this time…’
‘Yes, fingers crossed,’ Sally said. ‘We have the money and we’re respectable – but we almost have to grovel to be allowed to rent a property.’
Rachel nodded. ‘That’s one of the reasons I joined one of the women’s movements recently. I’ve been to a few meetings. We listen to talks from men and women who believe in the cause and then have tea and sandwiches. You should come with me, Sally. I could just see you standing up on the platform hectoring the ladies on to civil disobedience if our demands are not met.’
Rachel was teasing of course, but Sally silently agreed. A growing resentment had been building deep inside her for a while. She’d seen the posters for women’s suffrage and read about it in the newspapers, but until now she really hadn’t thought about joining the Movement. When you were too busy trying to earn a living, it was hard to think of anything else, but these days Sally moved about the city on business and it had woken her up to the fact that women still did not get a fair deal when it came to wages and so many other things, although she herself was lucky. She’d been given a job that many employers would not think of trusting to a female. The Harpers had accepted that a woman could work as well as any man, but not many would agree with them. Old habits and thinking died hard. Changes had been made in parliament; the wages for women chain makers had been raised from the pittance it had once been and other small improvements had been made in conditions for female workers. Yet many people’s attitudes did not change.
‘Would you take me with you next time you go to one of your meetings?’ Sally asked.
‘Yes, of course I would,’ Rachel said. ‘I should like that very much. I do hope we shall get our flat, Sally. I am really looking forward to it…’
28
‘Have you heard that Miss Ross and Mrs Craven are moving into their flat this evening?’ Maggie asked when they had a moment to talk that morning in May. ‘They were speaking about it just now when Miss Ross came down to check on that new silver jewellery. Some of it is so pretty – have you seen it yet?’
‘I heard they had got the lease of a flat and would be moving in soon.’ Beth smiled at the younger girl’s eagerness. ‘And yes, I have seen the enamelled jewellery – it is gorgeous. I would love to own just one piece of it, but I shall have to save for ages before I can buy anything.’ She frowned. ‘I think Miss Ross had difficulty with some of the dress stock, because there was a strike by Jewish workers in the rag trade that lasted around three weeks and that meant some of her suppliers couldn’t deliver.’
‘Yes, I read about that in the Daily Herald,’ Maggie said. ‘Ralf buys that paper and he gives me his copies sometimes…’
‘Yes, I’ve seen it but I haven’t bought it,’ Beth said. ‘Sally was clever. She went to a small country manufacturer and bought new stock from them – nothing seems to stop her finding something new and interesting.’
‘That is why we’re busy,’ Maggie said. ‘I love that Art Nouveau pendant with the pink enamelling and pearls. It costs three pounds and fifteen shillings and even with my ten shilling rise, I can’t buy it yet.’
Beth made sympathetic noises, but that was something you had to accept working in a store like this; there were always lovely things in stock that were way beyond your own purse.
‘At least we get to see and touch lovely things.’ Maggie nodded and turned away as a customer entered the department and walked towards her counter.
Beth thought that Maggie looked prettier every day. She was brushing her hair a softer way now and her eyes were bright, her lips more often curved in a smile than not. It was now the end of May and they’d been out to tea with Ralf twice on a Sunday now, as well as several walks in the park and visits to the ice cream parlour, and Ralf’s charming attention had made her friend blossom into a more confident and lovely young woman. Even though they sometimes had to dodge the rain, it never spoiled their afternoon.
Ralf had explained to Beth that he did not expect to marry until after his older sister was married. He had a wedding to pay for and must see his mother well settled before he could start to make plans for his own life, but he saw no reason why Maggie and he should not enjoy each other’s company. As he’d explained to Maggie, although he wished to join the Royal flying Corps, he could not afford to give up the job his uncle had given him, which was better paid.
Beth enjoyed their weekly trips out and, as Aunt Helen now went out every Sunday, saw no reason why they should stay home. It was nice to see Maggie and her young man happy together and quite innocent.
A walk in the park or a little trip on the boating lake was pleasant for them all and Beth was not made to feel in the way; Maggie could not have gone without her. Besides, she was grateful to the younger girl for cutting her hair into the bouncy style she now enjoyed. Beth had attracted the attention of some young gentlemen as she walked through the park with the young couple but had studiously avoided the intimate stares some of them gave her.
A part of Beth envied Sally and Mrs Craven their move into a spacious flat of their own, though her life at home was much better these days. Beth wasn’t sure how much of that was due to Maggie’s presence; because there was no doubt that the young girl had charmed Aunt Helen. She smiled more and Beth sometimes heard them laughing together in the kitchen or the parlour. There were also the Sunday afternoon teas, which seemed to make Aunt Helen very happy. She had certainly mellowed recently and it seemed to be connected with her Sunday outings. Her manner was kind and concerned when she gave Maggie the news that the police had been round to say they were releasing Mr Gibbs’ body for burial.
Having decided that he’d died of an overdose of laudanum, whether by accident or intent, the verdict of the inquest had been left hanging but the funeral was scheduled to go ahead. Maggie had had a day off work for it, refusing all offers to go with her, and had returned home in the evening looking pale and wan, but Aunt Helen had produced her favourite seed cake and made a fuss of her and she had soon begun smiling again.
Of Maggie’s mother, there had been no sign. The police were still searching for her and the man who had gone missing on the same day she had disappeared. The money she’d taken was clearly lost to Maggie, but she’d told Beth that she didn’t want a penny of it anyway.
‘It’s blood money,’ she said fiercely. ‘I wouldn’t have it even if she gave it to me – and I never want to see her again.’
‘She is still your mother,’ Beth reminded, but Maggie shook her head.
‘You and Aunt
Helen and Ralf are my family now. I don’t want anyone else.’
She wouldn’t talk about the day of her father’s funeral, but Beth gathered from odd comments she made that her uncle had wanted her to live with him and his family but she’d refused. Her aunt hadn’t really wanted her, so in the end he’d given Maggie her way, telling her she could come to him if she needed help.
‘I would rather live in a hostel like Sally Ross did,’ Maggie had told Beth. ‘I’m so glad I live here with you and Aunt Helen.’
Beth was glad she did too, because it had made her life easier. They shared the chores between them, which meant they had more time to go out, and Aunt Helen allowed them to go to a church social one evening. There were various stalls, people playing cards, as well as a tombola, and lots of food, tea and orange squash. Beth wasn’t in the least surprised when Ralf had turned up half an hour after it started and bought them both a gingerbread man and then won a little china fairing for Maggie on the hoopla stall.
He had walked home with them later and Maggie had asked him in to meet Aunt Helen. She had told her that he was a friend she’d known for a while and asked if she might ask him to lunch one Sunday.
Beth was shocked when her aunt had said she would be happy for Maggie’s friend to come and have lunch with them. He’d sat and talked to her about his mother and sister for an hour before he left.
‘Well, what a nice young man,’ Aunt Helen had said after he had gone and nodded at Beth. ‘It’s a pity you don’t have a pleasant young man like that to ask home, Beth. Really, my dear, it’s time you looked for someone – unless you want to be an old maid like me…’ She went into a trill of laughter as if it was a great joke.
Beth was astonished. She’d been nervous when Maggie had marched straight in with Ralf, but it seemed that she could do no wrong – only a short time earlier Beth would have been in trouble for being home late. The change in her was a mystery.