by Katie Flynn
The clerk stood up and held out her hand. ‘Goodbye, Miss Trent, and good luck. If you don’t find work before you are eligible to start drawing the dole, come back to me and I’ll help you to fill in the forms.’
‘Thank you,’ Miss Trent said, trying to infuse gratitude into her tone, for the woman was only trying to help her. But I don’t intend to draw the dole, she told herself as she left the office. After all, I’ve a term’s salary, which should keep me going for some time if I can find cheaper lodgings, and so far as I remember the rules I can’t draw on government support until my money runs out.
She let herself out of the office and tried not to notice the long queue of men who looked up hopefully as she closed the door behind her, then sank into apathy once more. And now, she told herself, turning towards Miss Taylor’s lodgings, for the worst part. I must tell Myrtle that I’ve been dismissed and can’t join her in the flat over the greengrocer’s shop until I get another job, by which time she will have found someone else to share with, I’m sure.
An hour later Miss Trent left the house on Daisy Street feeling a little better, for Miss Taylor had been extremely understanding and had been loud in her condemnation of the way the board of governors had behaved. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to get someone else, though, Glenys,’ she had said regretfully. ‘The rent’s pretty reasonable really with two sharing but far too much for me on my own, even though I get a decent salary by most people’s standards. Mind you, if you’re desperate, you’d be very welcome to sleep on the floor – or even the sofa if my aunt lets me have her old one.’
‘Thanks, Myrtle,’ Glenys said. ‘It’s awfully nice of you, but I’m going to stay on at Mrs Stockyard’s for the time being.’ She saw the worry lines smoothe from her friend’s face and knew that kindly though the offer was meant, Myrtle would have to spend a considerable time trying to find another person to share the flat as it was, and Miss Trent had no wish to further complicate her friend’s life.
Having tackled the problem she had dreaded the most, she returned to Orange Street almost gaily. Once inside the house, she plucked up her courage and went to the kitchen to tell her landlady that she was no longer employed by the Peabody Academy.
Mrs Stockyard was a small fat woman with sharp dark eyes and a thin-lipped mouth, who provided her lodgers with breakfast and nothing more. The first time she had carried the tray of porridge and tea into Miss Trent’s room she had explained brusquely that she had what she described as ‘a little baking job’, so preferred that her lodgers – Miss Trent herself, a shy young man called Frank Bloggs who worked for the railways, and a retired seaman – should remain in their own rooms and not invade her kitchen, even at breakfast time.
So now, as she hovered in the doorway, Miss Trent glanced curiously around the room for from the way her landlady guarded it one would have thought it must contain rare or beautiful things. However, this was plainly not the case. The floor was quarry-tiled, a large wooden table in the middle was flanked by four bentwood chairs, and the large dresser contained a motley assortment of cheap china. The fire in the closed range did little to raise the temperature, and Miss Trent reflected that she must get this interview over quickly and return to her own room so that she might light her paraffin stove and get the chill of the December afternoon out of her bones.
She waited for her landlady to offer her a chair, but the invitation did not come, so she moved hesitantly forward and smiled at the older woman. Mrs Stockyard did not return the smile, and raised her grizzled eyebrows. ‘Yes?’ she said. ‘I’ve been meanin’ to have a word with you. As I understand it you’re movin’ into a flat share commencin’ first January. Well—’
Miss Trent cut across her. ‘That’s right; I said I’d be going on the first of January, but I’m afraid that’s changed. I am no longer working at the Peabody Academy, so—’
The landlady interrupted in her turn. ‘Oh ho, so you’ve changed your mind, have you?’ she said nastily. ‘Well, you’re too late, Miss Glenys Trent; I were going to say that young Mr Bloggs has a pal wantin’ good cheap accommodation, so knowin’ as you was leavin’ I let him put down a week’s rent and he moves in the day you move out. Which is the first of January as agreed, and I want that room spick and span when you go.’ She looked Miss Trent up and down. ‘I ought to take a week’s rent from you for changin’ your mind and askin’ to stay on, but since you can’t I’ll waive me usual practice and let you go as arranged.’
She stared triumphantly at Miss Trent and her lodger reflected that it was the first time she had seen her landlady actually smiling. But what a nasty smile, she told herself, turning to leave the room. The woman was actively delighted to think she could thwart someone so easily. Miss Trent’s hand was actually on the kitchen doorknob before she thought of a retort. ‘Well, that’s fine, Mrs Stockyard,’ she said breezily. ‘I’m afraid, however, that you jumped to the wrong conclusion. I wasn’t going to ask you if I might extend my stay; in fact I was going to tell you that I would be leaving a day earlier than planned. Good afternoon.’
As she left the room she heard her landlady saying angrily that if so she would want extra rent, but Miss Trent heard the tremble of doubt in the older woman’s voice and knew she had nothing to fear. Leaving a day early could not possibly affect Mrs Stockyard one way or the other and well she knew it. She was just being spiteful, and Miss Trent found that she was glad she would no longer be living under the same roof as such an unpleasant person.
She hurried back to her own room, lit the paraffin stove and sank into the only armchair her landlady provided, pulling it close to the window so that she could watch the passers-by whilst the warmth gradually increased. Pushing aside the net curtains and watching the people going past, she felt a glow of elation. She had worsted Mrs Stockyard, leaving the landlady gobbling with annoyance, and now felt in a mood to think about the holiday. In two days it would be Christmas and she must plan how to deal with it, for all the shops and markets would be shut and she was sure that her landlady would not allow her to cook even a potato in her precious kitchen.
She leaned back in her chair and considered what she knew of other people’s Christmases. Myrtle had told her that the bakeries would be open to cook any meat, pies or poultry that their customers took in. I’ll buy a tiny chicken, and if Sample’s cook it for me, then that will leave my Primus stove for potatoes and vegetables, she thought busily. I shan’t want a Christmas pudding because they’re far too rich and probably cost too much as well, but I’ll have a couple of those delicious-looking mince pies I’ve seen on the cake stalls. Myrtle said the stallholders start to reduce their prices on Christmas Eve, so I’ll go out late tomorrow and buy all my Christmas treats then. And I won’t jolly well worry about where I’ll be sleeping on the thirty-first; I’ll surely find somewhere, even if it’s only an old car blanket on Myrtle’s floor.
Chapter 4
WHEN HARRY HEARD that Jimmy and Mo did not intend to go back to Solomon Court for Christmas he was horrified. ‘Once the market closes at four o’clock tomorrow it won’t open again until after the holiday,’ he reminded them. ‘I dunno why you won’t go home, but I’ve knowed the pair of you long enough to realise you fell into the wrong hands when your dad agreed to let them Huxtables move in with you. But you weren’t ever scared to go home of a night time, nor you didn’t keep duckin’ out of sight whenever a man came too close to the stall. Oh aye, you’re scared of someone, or summat, I knows that much.’
The three of them were sitting at the back of the stall eating apple turnovers, which Harry had provided in return, he said, for the help the children so willingly gave. Jimmy had looked shyly at him from under his lashes. ‘But you lets us sleep under your stall,’ he had pointed out. ‘I reckon that’s payment enough for any help what we give, so the grub is extry.’
Harry had laughed, but now he was looking worried. ‘Well, you can’t stay here after tonight,’ he went on. ‘So what plans do you have for the holiday, eh? Because if y
ou’ve none, I’ve got a suggestion to make. I’ve a friend what’s a major in the Sally Army. If I have a word with him, he’ll see you right for a couple of nights and you’ll get a grand Christmas dinner, ’cos they do that for everyone. What do you say I give him a shout?’
Mo gave a happy little squeak, and looked hopefully to her brother for his approval. ‘Can we, Jimmy?’ she asked wistfully. ‘I feel safe as houses when I’s cuddled up in our box under Mr Theaker’s stall, but I won’t go back to number four, ’cos that Cyril means to kill us, and Aunt Huxtable wants to hang me from the yard arm.’
Jimmy turned to Mr Theaker. ‘It’s hard to explain, Mr Theaker, ’cos we don’t really know ourselves why Cyril keeps threatenin’ to strangle the pair of us. But he’s awful big and awful cruel, so we’re keepin’ clear until his ship sails.’
Harry nodded his understanding, but then had to get up from his perch on the row of orange boxes which marked the back of his stall to serve a customer. Before he returned Jimmy took Mo’s small hand in his and squeezed it encouragingly. ‘I know Mr Theaker’s our pal and wouldn’t do nothin’ to hurt us,’ he whispered. ‘But we don’t know this ’ere major, and he might not understand that there’s evil men – and women too – who hurt kids. He might want to take us back to number four and tell Cyril and Aunt Huxtable off for the way they behave. Even if he keeps us by him until after the holiday, we have to face the fact that no one ain’t goin’ to stick with us for ever. So just you keep your gob shut, young Mo, and mebbe we’ll stay safe until Cyril’s ship sails.’
He had barely finished his warning when Harry wrapped the garment the customer had chosen, took the money and returned to their side. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Have you made up your mind to trust Major Williams? I swear you’ll never regret it. He’s a good man – your mam thought he was one of the best, and you know me; I wouldn’t let harm come to Grace’s kids, not if it were ever so. So when trading’s over for the day you can come with me and take a look at him. The army band and choir will be holding a service in the Salvation Hall. No charge, just donations in the box. Will you give it a go?’
Jimmy grinned. ‘Tell you what, Mr Theaker, that major of yours ain’t the only good man around here,’ he said. ‘And if we goes to this concert and feels we’ll be safe with the major, then we’ll pay our way; or we will if you’ll keep an eye on Mo for me while I go cuttin’ holly to sell round the streets.’
Mr Theaker chuckled. ‘I dare say there’s them as will part with a few coppers to have a bit of holly to stick behind a picture or put into a flower vase. The major won’t ask for no payment, but you’re just like your mam, Jimmy boy. She always insisted on paying her way, and you are just such another.’
Mo was tugging Jimmy’s sleeve. ‘Why can’t I come to cut holly too?’ she asked plaintively. ‘You ain’t goin’ to leave me here all by my lonesome, are you? Why, Cyril could come in and nab me and you wouldn’t even know. Oh, please let me come holly-cutting with you!’
Jimmy sighed. If he had been going on his own she would have been welcome to join him, but he knew from experience that Nutty would gather all his pals together to help, and they would not look with favour on Molly’s joining the party. But as he gazed down at his sister’s little face he knew he could not possibly leave her. Had things been normal he would have left her playing happily with one of her little pals in the Court, but now of course that was impossible. They had not seen Cyril amongst the crowds at the market and had only glimpsed Mrs Huxtable once as she waddled past the stall with her arms full of shopping and an expression of fury on her fat face, but there was no saying when one or both of them might suddenly appear. Jimmy and Mo had crouched below the level of the stall until Mrs Huxtable had passed by, and then Mo had whispered: ‘Ain’t she just mad though, our Jimmy! It’s us as would be carryin’ that heavy shoppin’ if she had her way. D’you think she were lookin’ for us? But we’ve kept a good look-out, haven’t we, and of course Mr Theaker lendin’ us different clo’es musta helped.’
Jimmy had nodded. He had been lent a corduroy jacket and cap and Mo was resplendent in a coloured headscarf tied under her chin and a long buttoned cardigan, and now, with her bright hair out of sight and her small body bulked out by the thick cardigan, she looked nothing like his skinny little sister. Nevertheless . . . He shrugged helplessly. ‘You’ll have to come, I suppose,’ he said grudgingly. ‘Nutty and the other fellers won’t be too pleased, but if you just keep quiet and out of the way . . .’
But in the event this did not prove necessary. Harry’s energetic wife appeared just then to help on the stall, and Harry took the opportunity to put his check cap on at a rakish angle, thrust his arms into his heavy greatcoat, and beckon to the two Trewins to follow him. ‘I’m just a-goin’ to introduce these nippers to Major Williams,’ he explained to his wife. ‘It won’t take me more’n five minutes, an’ then I’ll come back an’ start packin’ up. All right wi’ you, Mary me love?’
‘Oh, aye,’ Mrs Theaker said equably. ‘Are you sure you want to take the little gairl along? If not she can stay wi’ me.’
Harry tutted. ‘Of course I want to take her along. I’s goin’ to introduce her to the major, ain’t I, so that she can spend Christmas in the Salvation Hall.’ He patted his wife’s thin cheek affectionately. ‘See you soon, chuck.’
‘I wouldn’t mind stayin’ wi’ Mrs Theaker. I like Mrs Theaker,’ Mo said definitely as they moved away from the stall. ‘She wouldn’t let ’orrible Aunt Huxtable or even ’orribler Cyril carry me off. Only I s’pose she’ll be goin’ home wi’ you when the stall’s closed down. Oh, dear, I hope this ’ere major is as nice as you, Mr Theaker.’
‘No one’s as nice as Mr Theaker,’ Jimmy said reproachfully, but he was presently forced to acknowledge he was wrong. Major Williams proved to be every bit as nice and understanding as Harry had promised, and when Jimmy had explained their predicament he had said at once that he understood. ‘My wife and I will be spending a good deal of the Christmas holiday helping to feed and entertain those who have no one else to turn to,’ he explained. ‘But instead of sleeping in the Hall with the others you are welcome to use our spare bedroom; our eldest daughter, Roseanne, will be making a grand Christmas dinner in our house which we shall be delighted to share.’ He held out a hand to Mo. ‘Your brother tells me he is going to the park with his friends, so why don’t you come and meet Roseanne and my other children?’
Jimmy expected Mo to cling to his hand and insist that she would not leave him, but instead she looked up into Major Williams’s handsome, kindly face. ‘I know a Roseanne,’ she said eagerly. ‘She teaches the infant class at my school . . . well, she isn’t a teacher yet ’cos she’s not old enough, but when she is she’s goin’ to go to college so she can come back and teach the little ’uns. Is that your Roseanne? We calls her by her first name ’cos there’s three Miss Williamses already in our school.’
The conversation had taken place outside the Salvation Hall, and now Major Williams laughed and clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. ‘Yes, that’s my daughter,’ he said. ‘Mr Theaker here will confirm it. And now if you’ve decided to accept our hospitality you and I will go straight to my house, and you shall meet the rest of the family and sit down to a nice tea whilst your brother goes off with his pals.’
Mo smiled happily, and Jimmy, much relieved, gave her a brief hug. ‘Yes, you go with the major,’ he said. ‘I’m going to meet Nutty now, but I’ll be back by ten o’clock, I promise. I’ll see you then – if you’re not asleep, that is.’ He turned to Harry. ‘Thank you very much. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.’
Harry grinned. ‘Couldn’t let your mam down, God rest her soul. Good luck, the pair of you – and happy Christmas!’
And so it was that as dusk faded into dark Jimmy made his cautious way to Princes Park, where he and Nutty were to meet to carry out their task. His friend greeted him with a grin and Jimmy recognised several of the other lads from the surrounding Cou
rts. They were all pals and knew him well enough not to give him away to the Huxtables. Jimmy began to feel positively irresponsible. Mo had been clinging closer to him than a limpet to a rock, but now he was with lads of his own age, he joined in with the laughter and the gossip with a clear conscience. He did not use swear words whilst he was with his sister, but now if he felt annoyed he could give vent to his feelings in the shared language which all the boys used.
Whistling softly beneath his breath, he decided that Nutty’s dad had been right when he likened taking holly to a bird plucking off a hawthorn berry, whereas scrumping fruit – a favourite summer pastime – really was stealing. He was expanding on this theory whilst Nutty nodded sagely when the moon, whose full silver face had shown the park up as bright as day, went behind a cloud. For a moment the boys paused in their stealthy onward progress, but then they moved forward once more until they reached a hedge which positively bristled with holly. Jimmy produced his clasp knife and began to look for well-berried pieces, but either the aforementioned bird or other lads had already been busy here; they would have to go deeper into the park if they wanted holly whose berries still remained on the branch.
As he and his pals crossed a piece of open ground, Jimmy remembered something he had always known really, which was that they were not alone in wanting to earn a bit extra for the holiday. Because of the Depression there were a great many men who had to take what they could get in order to make the dole go round, and some of these men, Jimmy had heard, were dangerous. They would attack an old woman for what was in her purse, even if it was only a few shillings, and if they decided that it was worth while to accost and steal from a group of boys then they would undoubtedly do it.