Lydia didn’t know whether Celia had achieved her ambition or not. Neither did she care. She needn’t fear seeing Celia in a city the size of London. But would Lydia actually get there?
It was a crying shame Grace couldn’t go. No one deserved the opportunity more than she did. It was a pity for the rest of them too because without Grace’s involvement the plan might wither away. It was Grace whom Ruth looked up to and it was Grace who organised them all. It had even been Grace who’d suggested that their first step should be for Ruth to telephone the solicitor from the Post Office to ask when she might expect some funds. But Grace would be busy finding herself a local job and wouldn’t have time to work out all their plans for them.
Lydia could imagine Ruth’s courage failing, especially as Eunice was unlikely to let her and her money go without a fight. What complicated lives Lydia’s friends lived. She was luckier, as free as that pigeon flying off the yard wall. Not that she wanted to be like a pigeon. A hawk would suit her better.
But for the moment she was earth-bound, waiting for news. It made her fidgety.
‘I’m going out,’ she announced, needing to walk off some excess energy.
The streets had their Sunday feel of nothing much happening. Reaching the bakery where she’d worked before moving to Arleigh Court, Lydia saw a card in the window announcing: ASSISTANT WANTED. APPLY WITHIN.
Grace was capable of much more than serving buns, but the job might tide her over until something better came along. Deciding to let her know about it, Lydia walked to Cutler’s Row, arriving just as Grace was returning from church looking neat in her summer hat and gloves.
‘There’s a job going at the bakery on Green Dragon Lane,’ Lydia told her.
‘Thank you, I’ll bear it in mind,’ Grace smiled. ‘Coming up for a cup of tea?’
‘I’ll be in the way.’ Lydia would have no idea what to say to the old lady. She rarely knew what to say to anyone unless they were talking about cars and motoring.
‘Gran will appreciate the company.’
Oh, heck. ‘Just for a minute then.’
Lydia followed Grace up the steps to the flat. Compared to this dump, Meadow Cottages was luxurious. It said much for Grace’s strong character that she wasn’t bitter.
‘By the way,’ Grace said, ‘I’d rather you didn’t mention London in front of Gran.’ With that, she let them in. ‘Lydia’s come to see us.’ Grace kissed her grandmother’s cheek and placed a chair for Lydia to sit by the bed.
‘Hello, Mrs Lavenham.’ Lydia felt like an elephant beside this fragile woman.
Grace gestured for her to take the ancient hand. It felt as delicate as a shrivelled leaf at the end of autumn, yet Mrs Lavenham had the sweetest smile.
‘I was sorry to hear about the business at Arleigh Court,’ she said.
‘All lies.’
‘Of course. You’ll be looking for another job now, I expect. Like my Gracie.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Grace tells me you’re interested in motor cars.’
Lydia managed to answer questions about cars until the tea was ready. Relieved, she handed the conversation back to Grace.
How loving Grace and her grandmother were together. But Lydia was the lucky one because she wasn’t anchored to Ruston by any emotional ties at all.
‘I should go now,’ Lydia said.
Grace walked her outside.
‘Have you heard from Ruth?’ Lydia asked, now the old lady couldn’t hear them.
‘Not since the fete, but she can’t telephone the solicitor until tomorrow.’ Grace paused then said, ‘You’re wondering if she’ll change her mind.’
‘What do you think?’
‘I’m sure she’d love to go to London. But her mother…’
Lydia nodded.
It all turned on whether Ruth had the guts to break away.
Eleven
‘Mrs Arleigh is one of my best customers,’ the personnel manager of Grover’s department store told Grace. ‘I couldn’t have her coming in to find herself face to face with someone she’d dismissed.’
‘I’m skilled in office work,’ Grace argued. ‘I could work behind the scenes.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
It appeared that all the professional firms and major stores in Ruston did business with the Arleighs or had a family member working at Akerman’s Ales. Having spent her morning trekking around them, Grace lowered her sights for the afternoon. She tried smaller shops and factories but still had no luck.
Even the baker on Green Dragon Lane refused her application. ‘You’re one of those girls,’ he said.
‘One of those—?’
‘As got sacked from the Arleigh place. I’ve seen you with the Bolshevik’s lunatic daughter.’
‘We’d be in prison if we’d done anything wrong,’ Grace pointed out.
‘The job’s already taken anyway.’
‘You still have the notice up.’
‘I haven’t got around to taking it down.’
Grace’s feet were aching and worry was gnawing at her peace of mind but she made another round of the town asking about work in laundries, kitchens and domestic service. Still no luck. There had to be somewhere she hadn’t tried yet.
Of course! The hotel on the outskirts of town where she’d started out as a chambermaid. She’d been a fool not to think of it before. Even if there was no job available, the manager might give her a reference she could use to find work in Northampton where the Arleighs’ influence was surely weaker.
Working in Northampton would mean long hours away from Gran, but with Mattie’s help Grace would manage. And if given a start somewhere, Grace was sure she could rise through the ranks until she was earning enough to rent somewhere better to live.
She raced to the Ruston Lodge Hotel and walked up to the reception desk.
‘May I be of assistance?’ an unfamiliar gentleman asked.
‘I’d like to see Mr Collins, please. My name is Grace Lavenham.’
Twelve
Jenny waited until Monday when Jonas was at work before breaking her news to her mother.
Alice stared at her. ‘London?’
‘It isn’t the moon, Ma.’
‘But it’s such a distance.’
‘A hundred miles. Just a train journey away.’
‘You’ve a perfectly good home here.’
No, she hadn’t. Not when she needed to wedge a chair under her door handle to keep herself safe. ‘I don’t have a perfectly good job here.’
‘You’ll find one soon enough and, anyway, there’s no shortage of money in this house.’
‘It isn’t just about finding a job.’
‘Oh?’ Alice’s colour rose as though spoiling for a fight should Jenny repeat her outrageous accusations.
‘Ruth needs to get away from Ruston,’ Jenny said. ‘You know what her mother’s like. The inheritance is only going to make things worse.’
Alice relaxed. ‘Ruth might have come into money, but you haven’t, my duck. How are you going to manage if you leave home?’
‘I’ll get a job. No one in London knows about the necklace.’
‘Ruth’s a nice girl, but I don’t see why you should put yourself out by moving away. I was looking forward to enjoying your company.’
‘You have Jonas, Ma. Ruth only has her friends.’
‘I don’t know what Jonas will say about all this. Young girls in London? Unprotected? At the mercy of who knows what sort of danger?’
There was more danger at home but the irony was lost on Alice. ‘You can come and visit,’ Jenny suggested.
‘I’ve never been to London,’ Alice said, and Jenny saw the idea of a visit pleased her.
‘We could see Buckingham Palace.’
‘Goodness. We might even see the King.’
‘We could go shopping too. To Harrods and Selfridges. You could buy something pretty as a souvenir. Jonas wouldn’t begrudge you a new hat or dress.’
‘Of course he wouldn’t. He’s the most generous man a woman could wish for.’
*
By the time Jonas got home midway through the afternoon after working an early shift, Alice had adjusted to the idea. ‘Just think, Jonas. We’ll be able to go to London to visit. And Jenny will come home as often as she can, I’m sure.’
Jonas subjected Jenny to a measuring stare, which she pretended not to notice. ‘When are you going?’ he asked.
‘Soon, I think.’ Though it worried Jenny that Ruth hadn’t been in touch.
‘I hear London’s a busy, noisy sort of place,’ Jonas said.
‘Not too noisy, I hope,’ Alice frowned. ‘You’ll need your sleep if you’re working, Jenny, love.’
However noisy London might be, Jenny would sleep better there than in this house. Many times since her return, she’d looked up to find him watching her, his mouth wet and his eyes hooded. Then last night she’d heard him outside her room, doubtless hoping she might have forgotten to block his way in. Jenny hadn’t forgotten but a chair wouldn’t keep him out forever. Sooner or later he’d find a way to get to her. A bustling city would be restful compared to here.
‘You’ll come home if you don’t like it?’ Alice said. ‘Jonas will send you the fare.’
‘The moment Jenny needs it,’ Jonas confirmed, as though the day of her return couldn’t come soon enough.
Where, oh where, was Ruth? ‘Shall I take that pie to Mrs Wake, Ma?’ Jenny asked, eager to be away from Jonas for a while.
‘Good idea. I’ll come with you.’
Jenny jumped up, picked the pie off the window sill and rushed outside.
Mrs Wake was their elderly neighbour. She welcomed them into her parlour for a chat and Jenny settled by the window to look out for Ruth. If Eunice Turner had crushed the London plan, Jenny didn’t know how she’d escape.
Ruth still hadn’t called when they returned home again half an hour later.
‘Shall we have radishes with our tea?’ Alice asked.
Jenny didn’t answer, struck dumb with horror at the sight of Jonas rubbing sandpaper along the leg of the chair she’d taken into her room to keep him out.
‘It was looking shabby,’ he told her. ‘I thought I’d give it a lick of paint so it’s nice for when you visit from London.’
Thirteen
Ruth had decided to make no mention of London at home until plans were in place. Only a fool would fan the flames of Eunice’s ire prematurely.
It was dreadfully disappointing that Grace felt unable to come, though her reasons were understandable. Ruth was still determined to help her somehow, preferably by finding a way to get both Grace and her grandmother to join them in London later.
In the meantime, Ruth’s biggest fear was that Lydia and Jenny might have had second thoughts. She’d meant to call on them during Sunday, but her mother had barked orders at her all day long. ‘You’re not playing Miss High and Mighty in this house,’ she’d said.
On Monday morning, Ruth packed lunches for her brothers, cleared the breakfast things, then slipped her coat on.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Eunice demanded.
‘The library. My books are due back.’
‘Then you can make yourself useful by doing the shopping. I’ll expect you back in half an hour to see to the washing.’
Half an hour? That would give Ruth hardly any time out of the house. Eunice had always kept Ruth on a tight leash but since learning of the inheritance she’d tightened it even more out of spite. Ruth headed straight for the Post Office to use the public telephone. She’d never used a phone before, but Grace had told her it was easy and it was. Ruth gave the solicitor’s number to the voice at the Exchange and soon she was talking to Mr Bridge’s secretary.
‘Mr Bridge is with clients,’ Ruth was told. ‘He isn’t expected to return until four. Could he ring you back then?’
‘I’m not on the telephone. I’ll have to call him.’
How frustrating! Ruth would have to come out for a second time. If she could get away from Eunice.
Rushing home, Ruth started on the washing. Whites today. It was a long process that involved scrubbing out stains with the harsh soap that made her hands sore, boiling, rinsing with dolly blue to bring out brightness, then squeezing the clothes through the mangle before pegging them out in the garden.
Ironing followed as the clothes dried, but the time soon crept up on her. Ruth took her apron off. ‘I need to go back to the library. They didn’t have the book I wanted, but it was due to be returned today.’
Eunice looked up from the magazine she was reading, having started to take life easier now she had Ruth to do her bidding. ‘You can finish that ironing first.’
‘I’ll finish it later.’ Ruth picked up her coat and left. How disobedient she was growing but she was full of purpose now she had a plan to help her friends as well as herself.
This time she spoke to Mr Bridge and arranged to see him in his Northampton office on Wednesday. Rushing round to Lydia’s, Ruth found her smoking in the back yard.
‘Of course I still want to go to London,’ Lydia said, as if it was unthinkable to want anything else. And yes, she’d happily accompany Ruth to Northampton to see the solicitor.
Racing round to Fitton’s Lane, Ruth was relieved when Jenny opened the door. ‘I’ve spoken to the solicitor and— what’s wrong?’ Jenny was trembling. ‘Can’t you come to London, after all?’
‘It isn’t that.’ Jenny glanced over her shoulder, then pulled the door shut and explained about the chair. ‘I’ll have to tie the door handle to the bed or something.’ An idea struck her. ‘Unless you stay here until we can get away?’
Ruth thought about escaping the constant criticism of home. Blissful! If she could help to thwart Jonas too, that would be wonderful. ‘Won’t your mother mind?’
‘We’ll tell her your mother’s making your life uncomfortable. That won’t be a lie.’
‘It certainly won’t,’ Ruth agreed, and they shared a smile. ‘I’ll fetch my things and come straight back.’
‘Good of you to honour us with your presence,’ Eunice said, when Ruth returned home. ‘I still want that ironing finished. And your father and I have been talking. Whatever my wicked sister said, you can’t expect us to keep you in board and lodging while you’ve got money dripping out of your purse.’
‘Don’t worry, Mother. I won’t be trespassing on your hospitality any longer,’ Ruth told her.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I’m making arrangements to leave.’
‘Leave home? Don’t be ridiculous. What would people think?’
‘They can think what they like.’ Goodness, had Ruth really said that? Well, why not? If people thought Ruth must be uncomfortable at home, they’d be right. And Eunice was mostly to blame.
‘Fancy yourself in a smart house on Roseberry Avenue, do you? You’ll make a laughing stock of yourself when you run out of money. You’ll make a laughing stock of the whole family.’
‘Actually, I’ll be staying at Jenny’s house, but soon we’re going to London.’ Ruth felt a warm burst of satisfaction.
‘London?’
‘The capital city.’
‘I know what London is and you won’t be going there. A slip of a girl all alone—’
‘I won’t be alone. I’ll be with Jenny and Lydia.’
‘Now I understand! Those girls have heard about your money and want to take advantage.’
‘On the contrary, they’ve got my best interests at heart.’
‘They’ve got your purse at heart, but you’re too stupid to realise it. Well, I won’t hear of London and that’s an end to it. Is that understood?’
‘I understand you don’t want to talk about it…’
‘Good.’
‘But that won’t alter my plans. I’m going to my room to pack. Jenny’s expecting me.’ And Ruth wasn’t going to let her down.
‘Don’t walk away w
hen I’m talking to you.’
‘You said you didn’t want to talk.’ With that, Ruth left the kitchen and ran upstairs, Eunice’s shriek of anger following close on her heels. Standing up to her mother was terrifying but exhilarating too.
The noise downstairs increased as male voices joined in. Ruth’s brothers had returned from work and their mother was filling them in on their sister’s scandalous behaviour.
Throwing her case and a bag onto her bed, Ruth stuffed things into them. When she carried her bags downstairs, the whole family was present. Ruth’s heart was beating crazily, but she didn’t hesitate. ‘Goodbye, Mother. Father. I’ll write to let you know where I’m staying.’
‘Of all the selfish, ungrateful girls—’ her mother began, but Ruth didn’t listen.
She nodded at her brothers – Percy, Alfie, Thomas and Jimmy – then left.
*
Alice Cartwright was nothing like Eunice. She might be blind to her husband’s perversions but she was warm and welcoming. It felt lovely to be fussed over with tea and home-made scones, and Ruth didn’t care that Jonas fumed silently at the other end of the table because she knew she was keeping Jenny safe.
Ruth gave him no chance to spend even a minute alone with Jenny over the next two days and nights. Jenny slept well with Ruth beside her and by Wednesday some colour had returned to her cheeks.
‘You girls have a lovely day,’ Alice said, as they left for Northampton on Wednesday morning.
Lydia was waiting at the bus stop. Despite their excitement, Ruth guessed they were all feeling the absence of Grace and all astonished when, a few hours later, Grace walked past as they sat in a Northampton tea shop.
Lydia bolted to the door and returned with Grace in tow, while Ruth asked the waitress for extra tea and buns.
‘What a coincidence,’ Grace said, sitting down.
‘Are you here looking for work?’ Ruth asked.
‘I thought I’d see what’s on offer.’
Not much, judging from Grace’s obvious exhaustion.
‘Have you tried the hotel where you started out?’ Jenny asked.
‘The manager died three weeks ago. The new manager isn’t hiring. Not girls of questionable honesty anyway. But enough of me. Have you seen the solicitor?’
The Silver Ladies of London Page 7