A Family Christmas

by Glenice Crossland

  ‘Anyone else?’ Mr Smith enquired.

  ‘No sir, that’s all.’

  ‘Do you mean to tell me that the only outside help you had was Lily’s sister?’

  ‘Oh aye, sir. They’re all quite capable.’

  ‘Under your supervision, of course.’

  Mrs Cooper kept quiet and was satisfied knowing they were all receiving overtime for their efforts. Mr Smith closed and locked the money box and handed the envelopes to the housekeeper.

  ‘Will that be all, sir?’

  ‘Unless you’ve any other matters to discuss, I think so.’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Right then, if you’ll send Nellie up I shall thank her personally. And please give the young ones my compliments on a job well done.’

  ‘I will, sir.’ Mrs Cooper sighed with relief. Even after all the years she had worked here, she still dreaded these weekly meetings.

  When Mrs Cooper came back to the kitchen she said to Nellie, ‘You’re to go to Mr Smith’s office.’

  ‘Oh crikey, what ’ave I done?’ Nellie was very rarely called in to see the manager.

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s nowt wrong. Ee just wants to thank you for last night.’

  ‘Oh, do I have to?’

  ‘Of course yer do.’ Mrs Cooper didn’t tell Nellie about Mr Johnson; it was enough of an ordeal being received by one man, let alone two.

  ‘Come.’ Nellie opened the door and the two men rose to greet her.

  ‘This is one of our guests, Nellie: Mr Johnson.’ Nellie was mesmerised by the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Mr Johnson held her hand and her gaze for far longer than necessary and Nellie felt herself blushing. ‘Pleased to meet you, sir,’ she said.

  ‘And you, Nellie. I would like to compliment you on a most excellent meal. Where did you learn to cook?’

  Nellie smiled. ‘In my mother’s kitchen; that was the plain cooking. The fancy dishes I taught myself, with a bit of guidance from the cook who was here before and a lot of help from my mother’s Best Way cookery book.’

  ‘Really? I would have guessed that you had had a more formal training.’

  ‘No, sir.’ Nellie was embarrassed. ‘Will that be all, sir?’ She turned reluctantly to Mr Smith.

  The manager smiled. ‘Well, I would like to add my thanks to those of Mr Johnson. I’m sure the meal last night will be discussed for weeks to come and as there were some very influential people amongst the party I’m convinced that when the word is spread our business will benefit greatly, all due to you.’

  ‘And the waitresses, sir.’

  ‘Of course. I have shown my appreciation to you all with a small bonus. That will be all, Nellie.’

  ‘Thankyou, sir.’ She nodded at Mr Johnson, who nodded and smiled. Once again she found it difficult to tear her eyes away from his. Flustered, she made for the door.

  ‘Come on, lass. Let’s ’ave a cup of tea and celebrate our windfall.’ Mrs Cooper had cut them all a wedge of the leftover cranberry tart, which she topped with a dollop of cream. ‘Well! what did ee say?’

  ‘Well, he wants to thank you all for your hard work, and he wanted to know who taught me to cook; he seemed to think I’d been to cookery school or something.’

  ‘And no wonder. In all the years I’ve worked ’ere I’ve never seen a spread like that was last night. Here lass, ’ere’s yer wage packet.’

  ‘We’ve got some extra.’ Lily took the packet from her apron pocket and checked the money excitedly.

  ‘Yer’ll wear that money away before yer’ve done,’ Mrs Cooper told Lily. ‘Anybody’d think you’d never ’ad a wage packet before.’

  ‘Well I ’aven’t, not with so much in it.’

  ‘You worked ’ard. Just remember, ’ard work always reaps its rewards. Go and fetch that lad in for ’is money. Ee’s been working ’ard an’ all.’

  ‘Oh lor, he’ll want me to go to’t pictures with ’im now ee’s got some money,’ young Molly said.

  ‘Well, you’ve been giving ’im the come on, so what do you expect?’ Lily reminded her.

  ‘I ’ave not.’ Molly turned the same colour as the cranberries.

  ‘So why are yer titivating yer ’air before you fetch ’im in then?’

  Molly escaped and went to find Larry. She hoped he did ask her to go to the pictures; she really liked him and she might not see him for ages after today. She only got called in to help at the hall on special occasions such as last night. Molly wished she could work here all the time like their Lily, but her mam said she was needed at home. She frowned. Her mam wouldn’t let her go out with Larry anyway. Molly was considered too young to go out with boys. It wouldn’t prevent her from liking him though.

  Molly wasn’t the only one harbouring romantic thoughts. Nellie Gabbitas had never felt like this before. Her heart fluttered every time she thought about Mr Johnson. She didn’t even know his first name. Even if she saw him again – which she wasn’t likely to – he wouldn’t look twice at someone like her. She wished she had done her hair in a different style before going to the office. Oh well, it wouldn’t have made any difference.

  When Larry came in Nellie questioned him about the remaining motor. She knew most of the dinner guests had already left and wondered if it belonged to Mr Johnson. ‘Whose is that motor, Larry?’ she said. ‘I thought everyone had left.’

  ‘It belongs to somebody called Mr Johnson. Mr Smith asked me to take special care of it because ee’s a friend of ’is and ever so posh.’

  ‘I wonder where he comes from to own a motor like that. I’ve never seen one in Sheffield.’

  ‘Blackpool,’ Larry said.

  ‘Blackpool?’ Mrs Cooper almost choked on her tea. The mention of the seaside resort brought back memories so poignant she had all on to conceal her emotion. Fortunately young Larry chatted on and gave her time to recover.

  ‘Aye, ee came out first thing when I was cleaning it. Ee said when ee comes again ee’ll bring me a stick of Blackpool rock. Whatever that might be.’

  ‘It’s to eat, yer daft haporth. I ’ope yer were polite.’

  ‘Aye, course I was. I wish I could ’ave a ride in it.’

  Mrs Cooper laughed. ‘Wishing’ll not bring rewards, so hurry up and finish yer tea and get on wi’ yer work.’

  Larry sighed. He had a hedge to cut and the stables to muck out. No matter how hard he worked he knew he would never own a motor like that. The most he could hope for was that Mr Smith would buy one and let him learn to drive it. In the meantime he would work hard and earn some money. He finished his tea and blushed as he wondered how he could get to know Molly better. ‘Right then, I’ll go get on,’ he said as he pulled on his boots on the doorstep.

  ‘I’ll ’ang that washing out for yer before I go,’ Molly told her sister. The cloths from the night before had been boiled in the fireside boiler and Lily was lifting them out, filling the kitchen with the smell of Rinso and steam. Once they were rinsed they would be put through the great mangle out in the yard.

  ‘Go on then.’ Lily smiled knowingly at Molly, who hurried out with the clothes line and peg bag. She made a show of stretching up to the clothes post, giving Larry an excuse to come and help.

  ‘’Ere, let me.’ He reached up and wound a bit of line round the post, securing it with a knot. ‘Do yer ever go out on a Saturday night?’ He blushed as he got the words out.

  ‘Only sometimes with our Sally, if there’s a social at chapel.’

  ‘Will yer go to’t pictures with me tonight?’

  Molly sighed. ‘Me mam won’t let me. She says I’m too young to go out wi’ lads.’ Then she had an idea. ‘I could say I was treating our Sal out of the extra money I’ve earned. We’d ’ave to meet you inside though.’

  Larry grinned. ‘Aye, that’d be grand. I don’t mind your Sal coming as long as she lets me sit beside you.’ He might even hold her hand.

  ‘I’ll see yer tonight then.’

  Larry whistled merrily as he went back to work. It had
worked even better than he had hoped. If he was meeting Molly inside he wouldn’t have to pay for her. He watched her come out with the clothes basket and help Lily fold the snowy white cloths, then she threaded them through the rollers whilst Lily turned the handle. Molly then secured them on the line with dolly pegs. She was lovely was Molly, with her long wavy hair hanging almost to her waist. If her mother didn’t let her go out with boys yet, it didn’t matter. Larry would work hard and wait until she was allowed. Molly was worth waiting for. He went to the stables, not minding the horse muck this morning. After all, Mrs Cooper always said that where there’s muck there’s money, and Mrs Cooper was usually right.

  Molly was just securing the last cloth when Mr Johnson came round the corner into the yard. ‘Good morning,’ he nodded to the girl and opened the door of his car. Molly thought he was the loveliest man she had ever seen and, becoming all flustered, she curtsied as she bid him a good morning. He hesitated and then closed the car door and came towards Molly. ‘Do you know where I can find Miss Gabbitas?’

  Molly nodded and ran towards the kitchen. ‘Nellie, come quick, you’re wanted, come on, hurry.’

  Nellie wiped her hands and followed Molly outside. Her heart seemed to miss a beat as she saw Mr Johnson standing there.

  ‘Hello again,’ he smiled and Nellie marvelled at the way he seemed to smile with his eyes as well as his lips. Oh God, her stomach seemed to be turning a cartwheel. ‘I wondered,’ he paused, not really knowing what to say. He only knew he couldn’t go home without getting to know Miss Gabbitas, or at least speaking to her again. ‘I wondered if I might take you to dinner tonight?’

  Nellie was speechless. When she at last found her tongue she stammered, ‘Who, me? Well I don’t know. I mean I’ve only just met you. I don’t even know your name.’

  ‘Thomas, but my friends call me Tom. I assure you my intentions are entirely honourable.’ He offered her his hand and Nellie thought she might faint at his touch. ‘Please, Nellie. I can’t go home without seeing you again. Please say you’ll come.’

  ‘Well, as it’s Saturday I suppose I can take a few hours off.’

  ‘Good. I shall be here to pick you up at seven if that will be convenient?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘No! it is I who should be thanking you, for the privilege of being allowed to escort the girl of my dreams out to dinner.’ He glanced towards the house and grinned as he saw three inquisitive faces at the kitchen window. ‘Till tonight then.’ Thomas ran to the motor, jumped in and tore away down the long, tree-lined drive.

  Nellie went in to be interrogated by Mrs Cooper and to plan what she would wear to be taken out to dinner for the first time in her life.

  As it happened, Mrs Cooper was almost as excited as Nellie about the invitation. She realised that the gentleman must be fairly wealthy and she considered Nellie to be most worthy of such a husband. She also thought it her duty to warn the girl to be careful and that even the best of men could be carried away when in the company of a pretty girl.

  During Ben’s absence Emma Scott was taught to make pastry almost as light as Lucy’s. First a potato pie, then one made of rhubarb from Mr Slater’s allotment. Another Sunday she helped the sisters make a dish of brawn, using a sheep’s head, onions, herbs and lots of salt and pepper. When it was cooked Lucy packed it tightly into a basin with a plate on top, then she stood the flat iron on the plate to press it down.

  ‘You can make brawn with any old stuff,’ Lucy said. ‘Cow heels, pigs’ feet – it still turns out good.’ Lucy sighed with satisfaction. ‘There’ll be enough here for our snaps for a week.’ When it was cold she gave Emma a slice to take home.

  Emma was delighted to be learning how to become an efficient housewife. All she needed now was a wedding, but neither Ben nor her were free to begin married life, what with her mother to care for and Ben’s responsibility to his family. Even though Emma was willing to have William to live with them, Ben had explained that his sisters would be turned out of their home if the house wasn’t transferred to Will. It seemed to Emma that the solution was for John to marry Lucy and take over the house, but of course Lucy was still rather young. One day Jane had asked why Evelyn Smithson had a house when there was no one working at the mine and Ben had explained that Evelyn’s father had been killed in a roof fall, so the management had made the house over to his dependants for as long as required, so long as the rent was paid. Lucy had considered his answer. ‘Our dad was killed in the pit too,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be daft. Our dad died of consumption,’ Jane said.

  ‘That’s what we were told, but we all know it was the coal dust that killed him.’ Lucy had had tears in her eyes as she added, ‘That’s why me mam wanted something different for our Will.’ Nobody had known what to say to that and the conversation had been brought to an end.

  Chapter Ten

  IT WAS NOT only Emma’s mind that was on marriage. John Grey would have married Lucy at a day’s notice, but Lucy at eighteen was enjoying life. She was happy in the umbrellas where although they worked hard, the girls were a friendly and jolly bunch of work mates. Lucy was proficient at her job and could earn a decent wage, so she was at last able to spend a little on clothes and be a normal teenager.

  Lewis Marshall still teased Lucy, but had grown to like John Grey and had accepted that the couple were now courting and he had no chance as far as Lucy was concerned. He had moved from the umbrella shop to the spring mill where he now worked on three shifts so that he saw less of Lucy. However, Lewis knew that he would always be there for her should she ever need him and if John Grey made her happy, then that was all Lewis cared about. The crowd now went dancing every Saturday either at the Victoria Hall or at Cragstone or Longfield.

  Sometimes John and Lucy, accompanied by Jane and James, would go to Sheffield on Saturday afternoons, have tea in one of the restaurants and then go to see a show at the Empire or to the cinema. Mrs Slater never minded keeping an eye on William and he usually ended up staying the night, sharing a bed with Ernest. William was a good lad, working hard for Mr Brown and dreading leaving school in summer and starting work at the pit.

  It was one Friday when Mr Brown was – as usual – making his last call of the day on Top Row. He had dropped off a box of bruised fruit and vegetables at Evelyn Smithson’s, knowing the girl was struggling to make ends meet. Then he knocked on the door of the Gabbitases, hoping they would be home by this time. ‘Anybody in?’ he called as he opened the door.

  ‘Come in.’ It was Ben who answered. ‘All right?’

  ‘Aye, not so bad. I’m glad it’s thee who’s in, Ben. Can I ’ave a word?’

  ‘Yes, take a seat. Is owt wrong? Our Will ’asn’t been up to owt, has he?’

  ‘No, lad, just the opposite. I know ee’s about to leave school and I don’t want to lose ’im. I’d like to tek ’im on full time. Me business is doing right well, what with the new ’ouses up on’t hill. And I’ve got a contract to supply’t canteen down at works. Well I’ve decided to get meself a motor instead of t’owd horse and cart. If your Will came to work for me I’m thinking o’ taking a stall in’t market on Fridays and another in Cragstone on Thursdays. It’s a damn good market there, tha knows, what with cattle market an’all.’ Mr Brown paused to get his breath back, then continued, ‘I’d learn ’im to drive when ee’s a bit older. Well? What does tha think?’

  Ben knew what he thought. It would make their Will the happiest lad in Millington. He also knew it was never going to happen. Ben couldn’t put off marrying Emma for much longer or he was likely to lose her. Much as Ben loved his family, he loved Emma Scott more.

  ‘I’m sorry Mr Brown, but our Will’ll ’ave to go to’t pit. Not that I want a collier’s life for him, but the house depends on it.’

  The greengrocer’s face showed how disappointed the man felt. ‘Well, I don’t know what I shall do then. I shan’t find another lad as willing or as quick as your Will.’

  A movement outsid
e heralded the arrival of the girls. They looked surprised to see Mr Brown sitting on a kitchen chair; he was usually in a hurry to get home for his tea. Lucy glanced from one to the other, searching for an explanation.

  ‘I was just telling yer brother.’ Mr Brown was still hopeful. ‘I want to give your Will a job when ee leaves school. A proper, responsible job, running a market stall two days a week and ’elping me on’t rounds for’t rest of the week.’

  Lucy’s face lit up like a sunflower as she realised what this would mean to William. Then the look on Ben’s face warned her that there was no point in becoming excited. Jane took off her coat and beret and hung them on the hook behind the door. ‘We shall have to think about your offer,’ she said. ‘It’s very kind of you to consider employing our Will.’

  ‘Nay, lass, it’d be your Will doing me a favour if ee came to work for me. I can trust ’im you see.’ The man frowned. ‘And I shan’t get another like ’im.’

  ‘Well, like I say we shall think about it and let you know.’

  ‘There’s no point in building his hopes up, Jane.’ Ben looked as troubled as he was feeling.

  ‘Have you mentioned it to our William, Mr Brown?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘No, lass. Not yet.’

  ‘Well please don’t; it’ll only upset him if we have to disappoint him.’

  ‘Aye, very well. I’ll leave it with yer then.’ The man picked up his flat cap and prepared to leave.

  ‘What do we owe you?’ Lucy looked in the cardboard box on the table.

  ‘Oh it’s nowt but a few leftovers.’

  Lucy picked out a cooking apple. ‘This apple’s perfect – not a bruise to be seen – besides we can afford to pay you. How much?’ Mr Brown had gone by the time Lucy had found her mam’s old leather purse in which they still kept the housekeeping money. They heard the horse clip clopping along the row.