‘It’s not so much her bed as her grandmother I was thinking about,’ Gwyneth said, looking back to where Sadie was turning the corner into Alexandra Road. ‘She doesn’t welcome strangers easily.’
Freda nodded her head as she thought back to when Gwyneth had arrived in the road and was supposed to have lodged with Vera. ‘Very true. She thought you were a foreign spy, what with having an accent she didn’t understand, having never met someone from Wales before.’
‘I was thinking more of her being wary of any man who was interested in her granddaughter – let alone him having dark skin.’
Freda shuddered as a sense of foreboding swept over her.
Betty replaced the telephone handpiece and gazed out of the first-floor window, deep in thought. The matron at Erith Cottage Hospital had been as good as her word and had telephoned with news of Anthony. She’d stayed with him at the hospital yesterday afternoon until his wounds had been cleaned and stitched up and his leg put into a plaster cast before he was settled on the men’s ward.
‘You seem to have something on your mind?’ Sarah said, as she entered the office with the midday post in her hand and spotted Betty was not her usual self. ‘Would you like some time on your own?’
‘No, not at all,’ Betty said, giving a small laugh. ‘I was thinking of Anthony and his situation.’
‘He hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, has he?’ Sarah asked, looking alarmed. Her blood ran cold as she thought of the accident in front of the Woolworths store the previous afternoon.
‘No – in fact, the matron informs me he is doing as well as can be expected after what happened. He will be in hospital for a while yet, but I doubt he’ll be fit for work for a long time with his leg as bad as it is. The cuts on his arm have been stitched up, and being a healthy young man before this will be in his favour. No, it’s the coming weeks that I’m worried about. Did you know he has no family?’
Sarah stopped opening an envelope and placed Betty’s paperknife back on the desk. ‘Oh, the poor lad. Was he a Barnardo Boy?’ she asked, thinking of the orphaned young children who were put into such homes and then sent out into the world once they were old enough to work. She gave a shudder.
‘Yes. I’ve been looking through his employment record, which holds brief details about his private life. Head office have the fuller file. This one follows the trainees as they move from store to store until they are given permanent work placements.’
Sarah leant over Betty’s shoulder to see what she was pointing to. ‘Hmm – he lives in lodgings, and not very nice ones at that.’
‘Do you know this address? I know I’ve worked here for many years, but with so many small streets around the main town, I’m at a loss to recall them all. I may have a street map somewhere . . .’
‘I’ll save you the trouble,’ Sarah said, putting a hand on Betty’s shoulder to stop her rising from her seat. ‘Wheatley Terrace is a small road close to the docks, off Manor Road.’
‘So, it will be like Freda’s house in Alexandra Road?’ Betty nodded in approval.
‘Not so you’d notice. Most houses there are of the two-up, two-down kind, some are larger and let out beds to men off the ships.’
Betty frowned. ‘Beds? You mean they don’t let out a whole room?’
‘If they’re lucky, they get a bite to eat thrown in.’
‘Oh my; I just hope Anthony isn’t living in a guest house like that.’
Sarah gave a grim smile. Dosshouse would be more the name she’d use, but Betty wouldn’t be aware of such places. Erith had some beautiful streets and homes, but like many towns bordering the Thames, it also had a dark side. She did wonder why Anthony would be staying in such a place. ‘I take it you need to collect his clothes for him?’
‘Yes, and to inform his landlady that he’s in hospital and when he is released he will need a room on the ground floor for quite some time. We have no way of knowing how long he will have to rest his leg,’ Betty said as she looked at her wristwatch. ‘I’ll take a walk round there after lunch.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Sarah said with a determined look on her face.
Betty looked pale. ‘Oh dear, is it that bad?’
Sarah didn’t wish to alarm her too much. ‘You may need a hand carrying his belongings,’ she explained. Betty wasn’t entirely reassured by this, but she said nothing more as they went back to the pile of post.
They’d all but finished when there was a tap at the door. ‘Come in,’ Betty called out.
‘Sorry to bother you,’ Freda said as she entered. ‘There’s a young lady waiting for an interview. I also wondered if there was any news on Anthony’s bicycle? I’d not like Alan to be out of pocket, and I can’t get up the workshop to see him for a few days.’
Betty frowned as she noticed Sarah visibly bristle. ‘Is there any news, Sarah?’
‘Not that I know of. But then, Alan doesn’t tell me everything that goes on at the workshop. In fact, he discusses very little with me these days,’ she said abruptly, turning away from Freda, who looked shocked.
Perplexed at Sarah’s manner, Betty gave Freda a gentle smile. ‘I believe we are about finished here. Please show the lady up, Freda. Oh, and we were just chatting about going to Anthony’s lodgings to collect his nightclothes and inform his landlady that he will not be out of hospital for a while. As it’s close to your home, perhaps you would like to join us? I thought we could go in our lunch break. What do you think?’
Freda glanced at Sarah, who now had her head down, checking figures in a ledger. ‘Yes, I’d like to help, seeing as I was partly responsible for the accident.’
‘I’ll ignore that comment, Freda. The glare of the sun was to blame, and that young man should share the responsibility, from what the witnesses say. Why, the police have told us it was purely an unfortunate accident.’
‘All the same . . .’ Freda said, looking miserable for a moment.
‘I’ll hear no more of this, and will meet you both at one o’clock,’ Betty said.
‘I won’t join you after all, if you don’t mind,’ Sarah said, speaking directly to Betty and ignoring Freda. ‘I’ve remembered an errand I have to run in my break, and it can’t wait.’
Betty could see there was a problem, but now wasn’t the time to discuss such things. ‘Not to worry. I’m sure we can manage between us,’ she said, ignoring the frosty atmosphere. ‘Show Miss . . .’ She looked at a sheet of paper on her desk. ‘Show Miss Effie Dyer in, please, Freda.’
Sarah waited until Freda had left the room, then got to her feet before Betty could ask her if there was a problem. ‘I’ll be downstairs checking our stock of carrier bags. These numbers don’t seem to add up,’ she said, escaping before Betty could ask her what was bothering her.
‘Do you think this coat will do?’ Ruby asked as she handed it to Maisie Carlisle to look over. ‘I know you’re busy, what with your dress shop and your kiddies to look after, but if you tell me it’s past its best, I’ll see if my coupons will stretch to a new one. The more I stare at it, the shabbier it looks. Bob said he’d treat me, but it does seem a waste to have a best coat sitting in the wardrobe for high days and holidays.’
Maisie took the coat from Ruby and draped it over the tailor’s dummy she kept in her workroom behind the dress shop. That too was a bit on the shabby side, what with Maisie having found it on a bomb site during the latter days of the war. The room was stuffed to the ceiling with bolts of fabric and piles of old clothes waiting to be unpicked and turned into something wearable. There were shelves overfull of patterns, and a box full of reels of cotton thread sat on the floor. ‘Why don’t you stick the kettle on while I have a think?’ she said, already wearing a faraway look as she stepped back to stare at the navy-blue woollen coat. ‘You’ve ’ad this a while, ’aven’t you? I remember you wearing it when I moved in wiv you years back. It’s a good bit of cloth, though, and the lining’s held up all right.’
Ruby nodded in agreement. ‘It did cost a fair p
enny, but back then we didn’t have clothing coupons, and we bought things new that would last. If I remember rightly, the kids chipped in for my birthday present.’
Maisie grinned as she pulled out fabric from boxes and held it up to the light to check the colour. ‘I can’t think of your Pat and George as kids, what wiv ’em being grandparents themselves. ’Ow is Pat these days? It seems an age since we’ve seen her family.’
‘I had a postcard only the other day. She’s gone back down to Cornwall to visit that family who took in the kiddies during the war. She did ask me if I’d like to go with them, but to be honest her kiddies run me ragged.’
‘There’s a good few of ’em,’ Maisie answered, thinking they were nigh on feral when they were younger. She couldn’t tell one from another, and wasn’t sure Ruby could either. ‘Cornwall’s a place I’ve not visited, but they say it’s pretty. Surely it would be like a busman’s ’oliday what wiv your Pat living on a farm ’ere, then going to stay on one down there?’
‘Oh, it’s a different world, Maisie,’ Ruby replied, smiling with pride at the thought of her Pat and husband. They had taken on a farm not far from Erith, close to the marshes and the Thames between Slades Green and Crayford. ‘They work all the hours God made, and they’ve done a good job since that chap who ran it passed away and they took on the tenancy. Now, where do you keep your cups?’ she said, looking around the untidy room.
Maisie pointed to a small cupboard. ‘They’ve been more than generous to you and your friends over the years,’ she said, thinking of how Pat supplied produce to the shops in Erith and Belvedere and often dropped off a box of veg at number thirteen. Ruby always shared it with friends and neighbours, along with whatever she and Bob grew on their allotments.
‘She’s a good kid,’ Ruby said with a gentle smile. ‘I’ve been lucky with both mine – and now we have another wedding in the family. Who’d have thought of my George getting married again? Mind you, he’s got a good one in Maureen, although it’s a bit confusing what with her being our Sarah’s mother-in-law.’
‘It’s a match made in ’eaven,’ Maisie said. ‘But we’ll all be thinking of Irene and never forget ’er. You know I was rather fond of Sarah’s mum, even though she could be a right snob at times.’
Ruby chuckled as she poured boiling water into a small china teapot before checking the gas ring, which Maisie used in her shop for her copious cups of tea, was turned off properly. ‘You’re right. It’s strange to think she used to hang about with Maureen when they were younger. I often wondered why George chose Irene over Maureen.’
‘Love can be strange at times. Who’d ’ave thought my David would have picked me, what wiv ’im being proper posh and ’is family nigh on being landed gentry?’
‘He’s lucky to have you, love, and to be honest his parents are pretty down to earth considering they own what amounts to a stately home and all,’ Ruby said, clearing a space at the edge of Maisie’s worktable and placing down a cup of steaming hot tea. ‘Mind you don’t knock it over,’ she warned.
Maisie snorted with laughter. ‘They call it an estate. It’s got a farm and everything. The whole lot of us could move there and not make much difference. Now what do you think of this?’ she asked as she held up a child’s black velvet coat.
Ruby eyed it carefully, cocking her head to one side as she did so. ‘It’s a bit on the small side for me.’
‘No, I mean to cut it up and trim your coat. I can make a new collar and cuffs out of this and also cover the buttons. It’ll look like a new coat.’
‘It seems a shame to spoil such a nice coat, though, what with so many kiddies needing decent clothing. No, I’ll make do with my old coat. No one will be looking at me anyway – the bride will be the one with all eyes on her, and that’s as it should be.’
‘Don’t be such a daft bugger. Do you think I’d destroy a good bit of clobber?’ Maisie said as she turned the coat round to display the back. ‘Look, the little tyke it belonged to stood in front of a coal fire and scorched the back so much it’s of no use to man nor beast. His mum gave it to me in a bag of bits and pieces. I ran her up a skirt and put elastic in a couple of pairs of drawers and she was as ’appy as Larry.’
‘In that case . . .’ Ruby said, beaming as she felt the softness of the fabric, ‘I’d be very grateful, and I’ll pay you for your time and all.’
Maisie frowned. ‘I’ll not take money from you, Ruby Cas— Jackson,’ she said, almost calling the older woman by her previous surname. ‘After all you’ve done for me over the years. I dread to think where’d I’d be if it wasn’t fer the friendship of you and yer family. Why, I could be pulling pints in some sleazy pub; or even walking the streets,’ she added, thinking back to her past life.
Ruby gave Maisie a hug. ‘Then I’ll pay you back by taking your kiddies out for the day and giving you some time alone with that handsome husband of yours,’ she said, knowing that what Maisie had said wasn’t far from the truth. Out of all of them Maisie’s life had changed the most since she became friends with Ruby’s granddaughter Sarah on the day the three girls started work together at Woolworths. ‘Now, drink your tea up before it gets cold.’
‘Coo-ee,’ a voice called as they heard the shop door open.
‘We’re through here, Maureen,’ Maisie called out. ‘You must have smelt the teapot. Can you put the door on the latch, please?’
‘Hello, love,’ Maureen said as she kissed Ruby on the cheek. ‘I could do with that cuppa. George has had me up the house looking at his handiwork. Why on earth he’s decided to decorate the main bedroom one week before our wedding I don’t know.’
‘That’s men for you,’ Ruby chuckled as she checked the teapot before pouring out a cup of tea for her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. ‘My Bob wanted to distemper the toilet the day before our wedding. I had visions of everyone getting white marks on their best clothes. I’d been nagging him for months to get the job done. He couldn’t understand why I said no. Then of course he didn’t bother to do it for another six months.’
‘Best we don’t let the pair of them get their heads together to plan to decorate our homes, then,’ Maureen chuckled. ‘What’s your David like at getting jobs done?’ she called to Maisie, who had gone to a tall wardrobe that stood at the back of her workshop.
Maisie’s cheeks turned pink as she returned with a garment on a hanger covered in a white sheet. ‘Oh, he tends to get someone in,’ she blushed.
‘Now that is posh,’ Ruby laughed as she explained to Maureen how they’d been talking about David Carlisle’s posh parents.
‘Hmm, perhaps I’ll turn posh and get someone in, if it means getting the work done quicker. Not that I’m saying you’re posh, Maisie,’ Maureen said, wrinkling her nose at the thought.
‘Common as muck, me,’ Maisie retorted, seeing Maureen’s reaction.
‘Oh goodness, what am I saying?’ Maureen said, looking embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t implying anything by it . . .’
‘No offence taken, ducks. What you see is what you get wiv me, and my David’s just the same. To be honest he’s bloody useless at doing things around the house so it’s me who suggested we get someone in, or it’d never get finished. Now, your dress is finished – would you like to try it on?’
Ruby got to her feet, wincing as she did so. ‘I’ll leave you to it. You don’t want anyone seeing your special frock until the big day.’
‘No, you stay where you are,’ Maureen insisted. ‘I don’t have a mum to help me with this wedding, so a mother-in-law-to-be is just as good.’ She hadn’t missed the look of pain that crossed Ruby’s face. She’d have to remember to speak to George about his mum’s health – perhaps Ruby needed a check over by the doctor?
‘I’d be proud to,’ Ruby said as she eased herself back down onto the seat. ‘Why, I never gave it a thought that I’d have another daughter.’ She reached for the handkerchief that was tucked up the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘I’ve always thought of you as family, what with you being ou
r Sarah’s mother-in-law, so it’s a bit of a shock.’
‘If the truth be known, I still feel as though I’m hopping into Irene’s shoes, and it’s an uncomfortable feeling.’
Ruby leant over to where Maureen had perched herself on Maisie’s work stool and patted her knee. ‘Never you fear, we are all overjoyed you’re marrying George. And if you are half as happy as Sarah and Alan have been these past eight years, then all will be well. There isn’t a problem?’ she asked as she noticed a frown cross Maureen’s face.
‘I’m probably worrying over nothing,’ Maureen said as she turned to where Maisie was uncovering her wedding gown. ‘I’ve most likely thought too much about nothing . . . My, but that looks lovely.’
Now Maisie frowned. ‘Come on, Maureen, you can’t leave it like that. Spit it out,’ she said as she hung the dress on a hook attached to the wall and turned to face the pair with her hands on her hips. ‘I’ll not sleep wondering what’s going on.’
Ruby watched the two women. She wasn’t about to say anything, but she had noticed Sarah was rather distant when she’d popped into number thirteen yesterday to collect the children, and she hadn’t stopped for a chat like she usually did. ‘A problem halved is a problem shared,’ she said, encouraging Maureen to explain.
Maureen sighed, wishing she hadn’t said anything; but at the end of the day they were all as good as family. ‘I went up to the workshop the other day and overheard something just before I went through the door. I wasn’t listening at keyholes,’ she said quickly. ‘My God, I’d hate anyone to think I was deliberately listening to what my son was up to. It was just that the pair of them stopped talking when I went in, and both looked rather embarrassed. I thought something was going on. I could have been wrong,’ she added, feeling as though she’d betrayed her son.
‘So, you overheard Sarah and Alan talking privately. It happens, ducks. I’d not worry about it.’
‘It wasn’t our Sarah – it was Freda,’ Maureen said, feeling worse than she’d ever felt in her life. ‘What if something . . . something’s going on between them?’ she said fearfully.
Wedding Bells for Woolworths Page 7