Daughters of Courage

by Margaret Dickinson

  Despite wishing that George had agreed to come with her, Constance set out the following morning with mounting excitement. It had been over two months since she had moved to Sheffield, but during that time she had kept Riversdale just as it was until the final decisions had been made about its future. But now, she was ready to reveal her plans to Mrs Froggatt and the rest of her staff.

  ‘I knew something was going on when all them builders kept arriving to measure up the rooms,’ Mrs Froggatt said. ‘I thought you’d sold the place and it was the new people. I’ve had young Polly in tears for days because she thought her job was going. And me, well, I thought I was heading for the workhouse. Who’d want to employ me at my age?’

  ‘I would,’ Constance said firmly. ‘I want you to be head cook.’

  ‘Me!’ Now Mrs Froggatt was startled. ‘Oh now, I don’t know about that, Mrs Trippet – I mean, Mrs Bayes – I’m a good, plain cook – I know that – but I can’t do fancy dishes that hotel guests would want.’

  ‘Why not?’

  The cook gaped at her. ‘Er – um – well . . .’ Mrs Froggatt fell silent; she could not actually think of a reply.

  ‘I don’t intend that you should do it alone. I’m suggesting that I employ Martha Ryan and Grace Partridge on a rota system, but they would work under your direction. And I’m also employing Josh as hotel manager. With a little training, I think he’ll do very nicely.’

  Now Mrs Froggatt sat down with a bump. ‘Well, I never did,’ was all she could manage to say.

  ‘And now, where are Polly and Kirkland? They are to have employment here too – if they want it, of course.’

  ‘They’ll want it, madam.’ Mrs Froggatt wiped her eyes with the corner of her white apron. ‘You’re an angel, that’s what you are.’

  ‘I’m sure, in my time,’ Constance laughed, ‘I’ve been described as many things, but I don’t think “an angel” has been one of them.’

  But Elsie Froggatt said solemnly, ‘Oh you have, madam, and on more than one occasion too, I can assure you. I don’t think you quite realize how well loved you are in this village.’

  Constance felt humbled suddenly. ‘I just hope no one’s going to be put out by my new enterprise.’

  Elsie shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t think so, for a minute. It’ll create more jobs and more business for the village. They’d be foolish if they are, that’s all I can say.’

  ‘And you’d be quite happy to work with Martha Ryan and Grace?’

  Mrs Froggatt’s eyes twinkled. ‘Just so long as they know who’s in charge.’

  Constance chuckled. ‘I’ll make sure they do.’

  After she’d spoken to Polly, who shed tears of relief against her shoulder and to Kirkland, who turned bright red and pumped her hand up and down in gratitude, Constance walked down the street to the smithy and The Candle House standing side by side on Greaves Lane.

  The smithy was silent and the doors were closed, and when she peered through the front window of the house next door, she couldn’t see Josh sitting at his workbench.

  ‘Mm, looks like I’m here not a moment too soon,’ Constance murmured as she knocked on the door of the blacksmith’s home and waited until a white-faced Amy appeared. From behind her, Constance could hear a child wailing.

  ‘Please come in, Mrs Bayes. You’ll have to excuse us . . .’ She led the way through to the back room. As she opened the door it seemed to Constance as if a sea of faces with huge, almost pleading eyes met her. She stepped inside to see Bob Clark sitting beside the fire. On the opposite side of the hearth sat Walter Ryan. Martha was seated at the table with Amy’s youngest child on her lap – the baby that was about the same age as Lewis. Now, what was his name? Philip. That was it. It wouldn’t do to forget the little chap’s name. As she smiled at the child lying in Martha’s arms, she could see that he was thinner than her own grandson and listless. He whimpered feebly. Beside her stood the little girl, resting her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. Harry was sitting on the hearthrug, playing lethargically with his model aeroplane. He didn’t even glance up when Constance entered the room. She was shocked; he’d always been such a warm, friendly child, but today there was no welcoming smile.

  ‘Please sit down,’ Amy said. ‘May we offer you a cup of tea, Mrs Bayes?’

  As she took the seat on the opposite side of the table to Martha and withdrew her gloves, Constance felt the strained atmosphere within the room.

  ‘It’s about all we can offer you, Mrs Bayes . . .’ Martha began, to be gently reminded by Constance that they now called each other by their Christian names. ‘I’m sorry to say you find us in straitened circumstances. How Josh thought he could ever support all of us with his little candle-making business, I don’t know. And that’s all but gone now. We should never have come back here. I should never have agreed to it. I should have made him stay in the city.’

  ‘Where is Josh?’ Constance asked, looking round.

  ‘Out trying to find work, but I don’t hold out much hope,’ Martha answered. ‘He’s only covering the same ground he’s been over before.’

  Constance glanced at Walter, who seemed to shrink further into his chair with every word Martha uttered. Even Bob Clark sat with his head in his hands and poor Amy was obviously ill at ease.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve called at an inconvenient time, but it is Josh I really wanted a word with, as well as you, Martha, and possibly Amy too.’

  She glanced across at Bob Clark, wondering how she could help him. Perhaps Kirkland would need some help. There would be a lot of work for a man to do at the hotel, perhaps too much for one. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, whilst the occupants of the small room seemed to be waiting for her to speak.

  She turned her head and smiled at Amy. ‘Do you think Josh will be back soon?’

  Amy shook her head. ‘Not until dark, Mrs Bayes. He’ll not give up before then.’

  ‘Oh dear, I must be leaving earlier than that. I don’t like driving at night.’

  There were a few moments’ silence and then, as if to give the lie to Amy’s words, the back door opened and Josh came in stamping his feet angrily on the doormat. ‘Buggers won’t even give me the time of day, let alone a job.’

  Amy flew to his side.

  ‘Josh, shush. We have a visitor. Mind your language.’

  Josh looked up and noticed Constance for the first time. At once, he was contrite. He’d always liked Trip’s mother and he had reason to be very grateful to her. He would never forget that at their double wedding with Emily and Trip, she had paid for everything. His beloved Amy had had a beautiful wedding day, thanks to this woman.

  He pulled the cap from his head and said at once, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Bayes, but I’ve had a hell of a day.’

  ‘I can see that, Josh, but sit down and listen to what I have to say. Amy, I think you should give Josh that cup of tea you offered me. He looks as if he needs it far more than I do.’

  Twenty-Six

  When he was settled and they were all listening, Constance took a deep breath.

  ‘Of course you all know that since my marriage to George Bayes, I have moved to live on the outskirts of Sheffield. The question was, what to do with Riversdale House.’ She paused a moment, but no one spoke. ‘I’ve decided to turn it into a hotel and I’ll be wanting quite a lot more staff and, in particular, a trustworthy manager to run it. Josh,’ she said, addressing him directly, ‘how would you like to train to be the manager of my hotel?’

  He stared at her. ‘But – but I don’t know anything about running a hotel.’

  Constance smiled at him as she said softly, ‘That’s why I said “train”. I’d pay for any courses you need to go on. Please say “yes”.’

  ‘Of course he’ll do it,’ Martha said, before Josh could even form a reply. ‘It’d be a marvellous opportunity for you, Josh. Who knows where it might lead.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want it to lead anywhere else, Mam,’ Josh said quietly. But his gaze was still fixed o
n Constance’s face as he added, ‘But are you sure I could do it?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ Constance answered firmly and mentally crossed her fingers in the hope that her confidence wasn’t misplaced.

  ‘Then I’d be glad to accept. And thank you. When do you want me to start?’

  ‘Straight away. Tomorrow morning. I’ll be back and we’ll meet at the house and discuss plans.’ Then Constance turned to Bob Clark. ‘I just wondered if you have any spare time, Mr Clark, and whether you’d like to help Kirkland? There’s a lot to be done.’

  Bob looked up, his gentle smile spreading across his face. Their gaze met and held and Constance could see that the wise man knew exactly what she was doing and why she was doing it. She knew that the difficult times had hit this family hard and she was – very tactfully – trying to help them by making out that it was she who needed their help and not the other way round. What a remarkable woman she was, Bob was thinking – and not for the first time in his life. He would never forget the time that Josh had moved to Sheffield at his mother’s behest, it had to be said, leaving Amy pregnant. The lad hadn’t known at the time and when he had found out nearly two years later, he’d come back at once and married her. But when the village learned of Amy’s shame, it had been Constance Trippet and Grace Partridge who had stilled the wagging tongues. Martha Ryan had always been an ambitious woman for her son, but she was right about one thing; the candle-making business was no longer supporting them all. And his blacksmithing wasn’t in such demand as it had once been.

  ‘I’d be glad to help you out, Mrs Bayes, in any way I can,’ he said quietly, but his gratitude was in his eyes. Seeing it, she nodded and then turned to Martha.

  ‘Now, Martha. I have appointed Mrs Froggatt as Head Cook, but she’ll need help. She can’t work around the clock and we must offer full board and half-board. So, I’m proposing that you and Grace Partridge, if she’s willing, should be relief cooks when Mrs Froggatt has her days off.’

  Now it was Martha’s turn to look bewildered and a little flustered. ‘I don’t know if I could, Mrs Bayes.’

  Constance smiled. ‘That’s exactly what Mrs Froggatt said, but I think you could all learn together. Now, what do you say?’

  ‘I say, thank you, Mrs Bayes. I’d be delighted.’

  ‘Good,’ Constance said, promising herself that she would watch out so that Martha didn’t try to interfere with Josh’s running of the place.

  ‘And now you, Amy. I know you must have your hands full with looking after all the family, but if you wanted to be a part-time housemaid or waitress to help out especially at busy times, you let me know.’

  Amy, quite dumbstruck by all that had happened in the last few moments, nodded and murmured huskily, ‘I will, Mrs Tr— Mrs Bayes. And – thank you. Thank you so much.’

  Constance stood up. ‘And now I must be going. I want to have a word with Grace, if she’s in, and then I must be getting home.’

  Within minutes of being invited into Grace Partridge’s house, Constance was sitting at her kitchen table, drinking tea and eating a scone with cream and jam.

  ‘That’ll keep you going till you get home, Constance. Now,’ Grace went on, sitting down on the opposite side of the table with her own cup of tea, ‘tell me all the news. Did you have a lovely wedding and honeymoon? Where did you go?’

  Constance chuckled. ‘We went to Gretna Green and then toured Scotland.’

  ‘And your new home in the city? Are you happy there?’

  ‘Gloriously!’ was all Constance needed to say for Grace could see the happiness shining out of her eyes.

  ‘What’s happening to the house here?’ she asked but by the time Constance had finished outlining all her plans, Grace clapped her hands, exclaiming, ‘What a perfectly wonderful idea, and, yes, I’d love to be a cook alongside Elsie and Martha. We get on so much better since the Ryans have come back here. She’s not so unhealthily ambitious for poor Josh.’

  Constance laughed. ‘You might find that rears its ugly head again, now that I’ve appointed him manager.’

  Grace pulled a face. ‘We’ll keep her in her place and see that she doesn’t try to interfere with Josh.’

  ‘I’m relieved to hear you say that, Grace. It was worrying me a little, I must admit.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear your plans. I’ve been very worried about that family for a while now. It’ll be a marvellous opportunity for Josh, but d’you think you’ll get guests at the hotel, then? I mean, there are quite a few hotels and guest houses around here already.’

  ‘I can’t be sure – how can anyone – we’ll just have to wait and see. I can but try.’

  To everyone’s surprise, Martha Ryan fitted into the kitchen arrangement of the new hotel very well. She never went into the main part of the building, never interfered with Josh or the other staff, and she was amenable to everything that Elsie Froggatt asked of her. The three women got on very well, sitting together to plan meals and learning to cook new dishes that would be suitable for a high-class hotel. Best of all, both Martha and Grace willingly accepted Elsie Froggatt’s leadership. Everyone was so relieved to have work and this was an exciting new venture for them all.

  Bob Clark began helping Kirkland, but he too was sensible enough to let the other man take the lead and tell him each day what needed doing and Bob was never too proud to do whatever was asked of him.

  Josh, after a few nervous days, took to his new job like the ducks took to the river near Sheep Wash Bridge, as the locals were fond of saying. He was never too proud to learn and he visited the other hotels in the district seeking – and receiving – their generous advice.

  On the day that Riversdale Hotel opened for business, Josh was at the front door, dressed in his black morning suit, to welcome the first guests. Behind him stood Clive, the new restaurant manager and Jimmy, the hall porter, who was a young lad from the village. In the kitchen, Elsie Froggatt and her new kitchen maid, Ginny, prepared their first evening meal for six guests to be served by the restaurant manager and Polly in her waitress’s black uniform and white cap and apron.

  ‘D’you know, George?’ Constance said, when she arrived home late on that first evening, ‘I really think it’s going to work.’

  George nodded and smiled. ‘I’m glad.’

  Over the next few months, the hotel prospered steadily and in the city Trip and Emily, with careful management, kept all their employees fully occupied. Ever the optimist, Emily said, ‘I think things are improving, Trip.’

  Trip smiled, but said nothing. Emily was happy and busy. Lewis was growing into a healthy, active little boy and the Ryans were content. So why did he have this premonition that their present stability was only fleeting? He didn’t want to worry Emily, but he had the awful feeling that something was going to happen that was outside their control; something that would affect all their lives.

  Twenty-Seven

  Life continued in Sheffield and Ashford for all of them. Riversdale Hotel was doing modestly well as the word spread that it offered a comfortable stay and good food in beautiful surroundings. In the city, business was difficult and unemployment figures were still rising. ‘Let’s hope the building of the new City Hall will create some employment. They’re hoping to start work on it at long last and it’s going to be built of Darley Dale stone.’ Trip smiled at his wife. ‘You’ll be able to look at it and be reminded of home.’ Darley Dale was only a few miles from Ashford. ‘We all need something to give us a boost and inspire some confidence. How are things with you, Emily?’

  ‘We’re holding our own at the moment, though I still haven’t felt able to open up the first floor workshop in Broad Lane. What about you?’

  His expression sobered. ‘I haven’t laid anyone off yet, but I feel it’s coming close. I’ll hate doing it, but I might have no choice. The orders just aren’t coming in any more.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Trip. I’m sure things will pick up soon.’

  Sadly, Emily’s optimism was unfounded.<
br />
  ‘Have you heard the news?’ Trip called out the moment he arrived home one evening in late October the following year. ‘There’s been a crash on Wall Street in the States.’

  Emily blinked. ‘I don’t understand what you mean. What sort of a crash?’

  ‘The New York Stock Exchange. Billions have been lost and Wall Street is in a panic. People are facing ruin. There have already been suicides because of it.’

  Emily stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘How dreadful! Will it affect the ordinary man in the street?’

  ‘Of course. Firms will collapse and thousands of jobs will be lost. We have close ties with the US. It’ll be a downward spiral. Orders will decline, so businesses will struggle to survive. Then they’ll lay off employees and so orders will decline even more. Unemployment will rocket and folks will be plunged into poverty.’ He threw the newspaper onto the table in disgust. ‘What on earth is going to happen now, I just don’t know. We’ve struggled through the twenties and now it looks as if things are just going to get worse.’

  ‘You mean it’ll affect us?’

  ‘There could be a global slump.’

  They stared at each other solemnly, feeling the responsibility for their employees weighing heavily upon their shoulders.

  ‘So much of our own business rests on exports now,’ Trip said.

  ‘And just as I thought things were starting to get better,’ Emily murmured. Their businesses, if not exactly growing over the last two years, had held their own, but this latest news could threaten everything they held dear.

  That evening, after a dinner that they hardly touched, Emily and Trip sat together and read the day’s newspapers. As it began to grow dark, a soft knock came at their front door and Trip opened it to find both his mother and George standing there.

  ‘I know we’re too late for Lewis’s bedtime, but we just wanted to know if you’ve read the news.’