by Joan Jonker
There were tears streaming down Abbie’s cheeks as she jumped to her feet. ‘I’m going to fetch my dad because this is so unfair.’
‘You stay right where you are,’ Victoria warned. ‘Or you’ll be sorry.’
The girl ignored her and made for the door. ‘I don’t care what you say, I’m going for my dad.’ She pulled the door open and walked straight into her father’s arms. ‘Oh Dad, Agnes said she’s leaving us.’
‘There, there, now, dear.’ Robert gave her a brief hug before walking into the room. ‘I don’t need an explanation because I heard everything. I had left my cigars on the small table and I’d come to collect them. And I can honestly say I’ve never been so ashamed in my life. Victoria, you will come and apologise right this minute.’
‘It’s no good, Mr Robert, she wouldn’t really mean it and what’s the good of that?’ Agnes was untying the bow in the back of her apron. ‘Yer don’t have to worry about me, I can walk into another job tomorrow.’
Robert ignored her words. ‘Victoria, this instant!’
His daughter had been regretting her words since she realised Agnes was serious about leaving. She didn’t want the woman to go, she was fond of her in her own way. The house was always immaculate, there were never any complaints about clothes being left on the bedroom floor instead of hung in the wardrobe, and there was no doubt she was a wizard in the kitchen. But having to say sorry to a person she looked on as her inferior, didn’t come easily.
‘I’m sorry, Agnes,’ she said stiffly. ‘I should not have been so rude. I would very much like you to stay.’
‘Words are cheap, Miss Victoria, and not always sincere.’
Robert took the housekeeper’s arm. ‘Come to the study with me and we can talk in peace. My wife and daughters will see to the dinner, which I presume is ready to serve?’
‘It is, Mr Robert, but I’m not serving it.’
‘I don’t expect you to. My wife is quite capable of seeing to her family for once. In fact, when she brings my dinner through to the study, she may as well bring a plate for you. For once in ten years, Agnes, you can be our guest.’ The look he gave Edwina before he led the housekeeper away held a warning that she would be advised to do as he said.
Robert handed the housekeeper a glass containing a generous measure of whisky. ‘This is not a bribe, Agnes, I need a drink as much as you. I am so ashamed that a daughter of mine would talk to you in such a manner. But a lot of the blame lies at my door for not seeing that she and Nigel were growing up into snobs. If I’d been at home more, perhaps things might have been different, but when you have a business like mine, you have to keep a close eye on things. It was hard graft getting where I am; I’m not about to let others ruin it for me.’ He held his glass high. ‘Here’s to me and you, Agnes, and no more talk of you leaving. If you went, Abbie and I would follow you. We couldn’t do without you, and you must know that we are both very fond of you. What happened today was unforgivable and will never happen again, you have my promise.’
Agnes raised her glass. ‘I’d have cried me bleedin’ eyes out if I’d had to have walked out and left you and Miss Abbie. But I would have done it, Mr Robert, ’cos I’ve got me pride. I’ll have no toffee-nosed little madam looking down her nose at me.’
‘I rather think Victoria will have learned her lesson, Agnes. She does love to show off and act the lady, but beneath the surface she’s not as cold as she appears. I don’t think she would deliberately hurt anyone. But that is not to excuse her behaviour because there is no excuse for bad manners.’ Robert sighed. ‘It’s been a rare old day today. I’ve spent much of it thinking about the past, when we were skint and happy. And I’ve been remembering my mam and dad. You’d have liked my mam, she’d have been right up your street. She was only the size of sixpenn’orth of copper, but she was wiry and all there on top. If she’d had a day like today, she’d have been waiting on the step for me to come in from work. And she’d have said, “It’s been a right bleedin’ day today, son, and that’s the truth. I’ll tell yer all about it when ye’re having yer dinner. That’s if there’s any arse left in the bleedin’ pan” ’
Agnes grinned and raised her glass. ‘Ye’re right, I would have liked yer mam. Me and her would have been the best of mates.’
Chapter Two
Abbie rapped lightly on the study door with a knuckle, and when her father answered she opened the door and popped her head in. ‘Would you rather wait until tomorrow night, Dad, to have our talk? What with all the upset, and you having a headache, perhaps this is not the right time?’
‘There’s no time like the present, dear, so come on in.’ He smiled at the daughter who held a special place in his heart, and waved her to a chair. ‘As I said to Agnes, it’s been a rare old day today.’
‘She’s not leaving us, is she, Dad? I couldn’t bear it if she did. She’s always been so kind to me, letting me sit in the kitchen when I come home from school, and listening to what I’ve been up to. And she’s always interested and never loses patience with me, even when she’s busy baking, or peeling potatoes. Never once has she said she didn’t have time to listen, or chase me away. I feel as if she’s one of the family, and I do love her.’
‘She’s not leaving, dear, but it was a close thing. If it had been one of the nights when I go straight from the office to the club, Agnes would have upped stakes and walked out of the door. And, frankly, I wouldn’t have blamed her. She deserves to be treated with the respect she has more than earned in the ten years she’s been with us. And I’ve given her my word it will never happen again.’ Robert clipped the end of his cigar before eyeing his daughter. ‘I know half of the story, but not the whole. I want you to tell me what caused Agnes to think you had been getting picked on?’
‘It was nothing, Dad.’ Abbie couldn’t quite hide the catch in her voice. ‘It’s best forgotten, there have been enough bitter words spoken today. So let’s put it behind us and start afresh.’
‘If that’s the way you want it, dear, but if ever you think you’re been unfairly treated, come and talk to me. If you can confide in Agnes, then surely you can confide in your own father?’
She smiled. ‘I can stick up for myself, you know! That is what started the trouble in the first place. If I’d known that would happen I would have kept my mouth closed. I’ll be very careful in future.’
‘No, my dear, it is best to speak your mind if you think you are in the right.’
Not when you’ve got two against you, it isn’t, Abbie thought. She left Nigel out, because in his own way he had tried to defend her. But the scene in the kitchen when her mother had insisted that Victoria help serve the dinner, was still fresh in her mind. Tempers flared when her sister objected, saying she had no intention of ruining her nails, and she only changed her tune when her mother threatened to stop her allowance for a month if she failed to show some remorse. And while her sister had been complaining, Abbie listened and wondered why it didn’t enter the older girl’s head that what she was being coaxed to do, was something the housekeeper did automatically three times a day, six days a week – and all without so much as a thank you. But it would do no good to rekindle the argument now by speaking her mind. ‘We’ve still got Agnes, Dad, and that’s the main thing,’ she said quietly.
‘I’d have gone down on bended knee to her if necessary. She’s a hard-working, decent woman, and while she’s in my house I will not allow her to be treated like a skivvy.’ Robert was thoughtful as he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief he didn’t need, but the action gave him time to consider. ‘She reminds me a bit of my own mother, does Agnes. They would have got on well together because my mother used to swear like a trooper, too!’
‘Did she? I don’t mind Agnes swearing because it doesn’t sound bad coming from her. I think she’s funny.’ Abbie leaned her elbows on the table and her eyes were alight with interest. ‘I don’t remember my grandmother, or my grandfather. I wish I did. Tell me about them.’
‘H
ow far back can you remember, dear?’
‘Erm, let’s see now. I can remember playing in Balfour Road where we used to live. I had a friend and her name was Milly and we both had a doll’s pram. We also had skipping ropes, but we weren’t very good at skipping, not like the older girls in the street. And I can remember Mother taking me to school on the first day I started. I was petrified. But it wasn’t so bad, ’cos Milly sat at the same desk as I did and the teacher was very kind.’
‘Do you remember the removal vans I had at that time?’
‘I think so. Were they a dark red with your name painted on in yellow?’
‘That’s right. They weren’t as grand as the ones we have now, but they were a definite improvement on the horse and cart I started with.’
His daughter’s face was now agog with excitement. ‘You had a horse and cart, Dad? I didn’t know that, you’ve never said.’
‘I was only nineteen when the man I worked for sold me his horse and cart, and the business, all for five pound. It was something in those days, for a young lad to have his own business. And it was my mother who made it possible. For months she took in extra washing to help me raise the cash, and I scrimped and saved every penny I could lay my hands on. The day I passed the money over to the man who had been my boss, I had holes in the soles of my shoes, and not a farthing in my pocket, but I was as proud as a peacock because I owned my own business. And I’ve got my mother to thank for everything I have today. I’m just sorry she and my father didn’t live long enough for me to repay them. Oh, I made life more comfortable for them when they were alive, and saw that they wanted for nothing, but I certainly didn’t have the wealth I have today. I had visions of moving them to a nice house with a garden, but it wasn’t to be. They died in the small two-up, two-down house I was born in. My mother was only fifty-six when she suffered a severe stroke and died within two days. My father, God bless him, couldn’t get over losing her, and he died six weeks later of a broken heart.’
‘Oh Dad, that’s so sad! It must have been terrible for you.’
‘It took me a long time to come to terms with it, Abbie, because they were the best parents anyone could ask for, and I loved them dearly. Everything I owned, I would have gladly given away to have them back again.’
‘Did you live with them, Dad, or were you married then?’
‘Your mother and I had been married about five years when they died. Victoria was three and Nigel one, so they will have no memory of their grandparents. You came along two years later.’
Part of Abbie’s mind was asking why she was only hearing all this now. Surely at her age she should have been told about things like this. She knew that her mother’s parents, Ada and Joe, had died because Nigel had once told her so. She’d ventured to ask about them a couple of times, but her questions had been brushed aside by her mother in such a manner as to suggest the subject wasn’t one she ever wanted discussing. And tonight wasn’t the time, either, because she could see sadness in her father’s eyes and he was the one person in the whole world she wouldn’t hurt. ‘Tell me about the horse and cart, Dad.’
Robert shook his head to clear his mind. His plan had been to tell his daughter about his roots, and how he’d got where he was now. He thought it right that all three of his children should know, then perhaps his eldest daughter and son would realise the money they spent like water hadn’t just dropped from the heavens above, it had been earned the hard way. And as they hadn’t had to toil for the money themselves they should consider themselves lucky and not walk around as though they’d been born with a silver spoon in their mouths. But he hadn’t imagined talking about his parents would be so painful. ‘Blackie was the horse’s name and he was quite a character. He had a mind of his own, did Blackie, and could practically talk. He could tell the time, too! If he wasn’t back in the stable with his nosebag on by seven o’clock, he wouldn’t half let us know. His head would be thrown back and he’d snort as if to tell us it was past his feeding time.’
‘I wish I’d known him,’ Abbie said wistfully. ‘What happened to him, Dad?’
‘He was getting old and a year after the war finished I gave him to a man who I knew would be good to him. I used to visit him when I was in the area and know he was well looked after until the day he died. I’d been saving hard because most of the removal firms were using motorised vehicles, and we were losing business to them. So I bought a good second-hand van and business increased so much, a year later I was able to buy a second van. And those are the two that you can remember. I worked on one with Jeff, who’s been with me since the day I started on my own, and I had to employ two extra men for the other van.’ Robert put a hand to his mouth and gave a dry cough. ‘My dear, would you be an angel and make a pot of tea for us? Agnes usually brings one through about this time but she’s been given the night off for obvious reasons.’
Abbie jumped to her feet. ‘Remember where you’re up to, Dad, because I want to know everything. I’m finding it very interesting, and I’m proud you’ve done so well. If I learn shorthand and typing, and book-keeping, I’d like to work for you, if you’ll have me.’
‘I’d be delighted, my dear.’ And Robert really was thrilled that his daughter was showing such an interest. ‘By the way, I still see Milly now and again.’
Her mouth gaped in surprise. ‘But you never said, Dad! Oh, I’d love to see her, how is she?’
‘Very well and very pretty. She left school at sixteen and works in an office in Dale Street. I call about once a month to see the old neighbours, and I also take a trip down Memory Lane every month to see my mother’s old neighbours who lived either side of her in Seaforth. They were good to her when she took ill; nobody could have been better looked after. Everyone turned out for her funeral because she was well-known and well-liked. She never turned anyone away from her door if it was in her power to help them. And they tried to look after my father when he was left alone, but he didn’t want their help. Not that he didn’t appreciate their concern, he did. But no matter what they did they couldn’t give him back the one thing he wanted, and that was the wife he adored. He just wanted to be with her, so he pined away.’
‘Oh, Dad, it’s so sad. It must have been awful for you.’
‘It’s nineteen years ago now, but their faces are still fresh in my mind.’ Robert gestured for her to move. ‘Tea, my dear, please, my throat is parched.’
Edwina was in the kitchen when Abbie appeared, and the look she gave her daughter was not one of motherly love. ‘What on earth have you and your father got to say to each other that is taking so long?’
‘Nothing much, Mother. Just general conversation about this and that.’
‘Would you kindly be more explicit about what this and that is?’ Edwina’s temper should have been directed at her eldest daughter for causing such an upset. But she knew it would be a waste of time because Victoria would just dismiss the matter with a wave of her hand and a look of disdain on her face. So she tried to take her anger and frustration out on her youngest daughter, who seldom answered back. ‘If I thought you were telling tales, Abigail, I would be very displeased.’
‘Tales, Mother? What tales would I have to tell? We’ve talked about Agnes, and you shouldn’t be surprised at that, since Dad heard everything for himself.’ Abbie usually tried not to upset her mother because of the lecture she was bound to get if she had done anything thought to be untoward. And that is why, she realised now, she was always the whipping-boy – because she made it easy by not answering back. But what she had heard in the last hour from her father about her paternal grandparents had given her a sense of belonging, and it had also given her confidence in herself. ‘We’ve talked of nothing that would be of interest to you, Mother. Just general chit-chat, that’s all.’
As she set about preparing a tray, Abbie could feel Edwina’s eyes boring into her back. The silence was heavy, broken only by the hissing of the gas under the kettle. She began to hum, softly, feeling really uncomfortable. It
shouldn’t be like this, she told herself. Families should be loving towards each other, not always at loggerheads. So she held out an olive branch. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mother?’
‘I think not.’ Edwina made her way towards the door. ‘Wash the crockery when you’ve finished, we don’t want Agnes to start complaining about dirty dishes.’
‘No, of course not.’ Abbie sighed. Why could she never find favour with her mother? Her sister and brother could do no wrong, while she couldn’t please, no matter how hard she tried. Sometimes she felt like a stranger in her own home. She picked up the tray and when she reached the study door, she forced a smile to her face. At least she was sure of her father’s love, and knew when she entered the room she would be greeted by eyes that would say they were happy to see her.
‘Go on, Dad, carry on where you left off,’ Abbie said, after pouring the tea and setting a cup down in front of her father. ‘And don’t leave anything out because I’m interested in everything you’ve done.’
Robert smiled. ‘I hope this information you’re so eager for doesn’t mean you intend to start up your own business eventually, in opposition to me?’
‘I’m not as clever as you, Dad, I couldn’t do what you’ve done. And I can’t see a woman driving a removal van, can you? No, I want to come and work for you. I’d like to learn the business inside out, so I can help you.’
‘Your mother wouldn’t be happy about that, my dear. You’ll be eighteen in a couple of weeks and she’ll expect you to mix in the same social circle as Victoria and Nigel where you would meet the type of young men she would find suitable for you to choose a husband from. She has high hopes of all her children making good marriages.’ Robert had no such hopes himself, but he thought his youngest daughter should know all the options open to her. ‘You need to think things through very carefully before committing yourself.’