by Dee Williams
One miserable evening the rain was a fine mist and everywhere looked damp and dreary. The hissing streetlights were giving out a dull glow, and as they were walking home Milly said, ‘I hate days like this. It seems to stay dark and gloomy all day.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Rita. ‘Say, how d’you fancy coming to the music hall with me on Saturday?’
‘I’d love to. I’ve never been to one of those.’
‘They’re lovely. I went once with me mum. I’ll call on you and we can go together if you like.’
Milly panicked. She didn’t want Rita to see her house or meet any of the family. ‘No, that’s all right, I can meet you outside.’
‘The one in Rotherhithe New Road starts at seven, is that all right?’
‘That’ll be lovely.’ Milly was very excited; she had a friend and for the first time ever she was going to the music hall.
When the lights went down and the orchestra started playing, Milly sat spellbound. A man came on the stage and announced that the show was starting with jugglers on one-wheeled cycles. A woman singing followed that. Then came two men doing silly things and throwing pies at each other. Milly was laughing so much that tears ran down her cheeks. The big finish was a line of girls in short skirts kicking their legs very high in the air.
When it was all over Milly sat mesmerised. She didn’t want to leave.
‘Well, what did you think?’ asked Rita as they walked home.
‘I thought it was wonderful. I couldn’t believe it. You felt you wanted to get up there and touch them. Could we go again?’
Rita smiled as she took her arm. ‘Of course. How about a bit of shopping one Saturday afternoon? We can go up West if you like and see the Christmas decorations.’
‘I’d love that. But I can’t afford to buy anything.’
‘That’s all right. Everything’s much too dear anyway, but it’s nice just looking in the windows at all the fancy clothes, and the displays look smashing. I love Christmas, don’t you?’
‘I used to when I was working away, but my family’s not got a lot and in some ways I’m the only real breadwinner.’
Rita looked shocked. ‘What about your dad?’
‘He had an accident years ago and can’t work all the time.’ Milly was surprised at what she was saying. In some ways she was sticking up for her father’s ways.
Milly was so happy with her new-found friend. But what if Rita ever discoverd what she had done; would she still want to be her friend?
Walking past the shops in the West End, the girls were laughing at some of the fashions and gazing in wonder at the Christmas decorations.
‘Those skirts look a bit daring,’ said Rita. ‘Don’t know if I fancy showing off me ankles like that.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Milly. ‘Could make life a lot easier if you have to run for one of these horseless carriages.’
‘S’pose so.’
The noise coming from along Oxford Street sent everyone to the edge of the kerb.
The suffragettes came marching past blowing whistles, ringing bells, waving their banners and shouting, ‘Votes for women!’
Milly felt a ripple of excitement. She did admire these women, who wanted to make a difference for all women.
But not everyone in the crowd agreed with them, and there were shouts of ‘Go home, you silly cows, and git on with yer washing’ and ‘Git back ter yer kitchen and cook yer old man’s dinner’.
The policemen who were walking beside the marchers looked very fed up.
‘I think it’s disgraceful,’ said a strident voice behind Rita and Milly. ‘What do women know about politics?’
To Milly’s surprise Rita turned round and said very loudly, ‘It would be nice if they were given half a chance.’
The bewhiskered old man looked very angry. ‘Is this the sort of thing they want to breed? Slips of girls answering back to their elders.’
Milly smiled. She hadn’t known her friend felt the same way she did.
The man raised his silver-topped cane.
‘You hit me, and I’ll scream so hard you’ll have half the police force on to you,’ yelled Rita.
By now a small crowd had gathered round them.
‘Let’s leave it, Rita,’ said Milly.
‘Come on, Harvey,’ said the old man’s companion. ‘We don’t want to start any trouble.’
As the pair walked away, Rita laughed. ‘See, he still does as he’s told by his old woman,’ she called after him.
There was a ripple of laughter in the crowd and a few women began clapping.
Milly was getting worried. She didn’t want any policemen round here asking questions. ‘Let’s go and have a cuppa,’ she said, taking her friend’s arm and moving her away.
Chapter 22
MILLY AND RITA were sitting in Lyons Corner House. ‘This is the life,’ said Rita as she poured the tea. ‘I’d love to be a lady.’
‘It sounds to me like you have a good life as it is.’
Rita grinned. ‘I suppose I do.’
Milly gave her a weak smile. She had known the good times with bone-china crockery and nice cakes.
‘I forgot, you used to wait on the rich, didn’t you? Did they have a nice big house?’
‘Yes, they did,’
‘I bet you miss it.’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Would have thought that they would have sent you to a friend’s house to work when they went off.’
‘None of their friends needed anyone.’
Rita took a cake and examined it, then said, ‘Did you do something you shouldn’t have? That why they let you go?’
Milly looked shocked and quickly crossed her fingers, as she was about to tell another lie. ‘No, I didn’t do anything. I told you, they moved abroad. Mr . . . ’ She stopped herself from naming Mr Green. ‘Sir worked in Germany and they moved there.’
‘Pity they didn’t think to take you as well.’
‘He already had staff.’
‘These cakes are smashing. Go on, take one. I think we pay for the lot, so we might as well eat ’em.’
Milly picked up a cake, and as she took a bite, she was reminded of Betty’s wonderful cooking. Would she ever get over her life in that house? ‘I loved the way you stood up to that old man,’ she said, hoping to change the subject.
‘I ain’t got any time for pompous old devils like that.’
‘What do you think about those women, the suffragettes?’ asked Milly.
‘I think it’s great that they’re standing up for themselves, but I don’t hold with all this breaking windows and going to prison.’
‘You have to admit, they are very brave.’
‘Yes. Me dad likes it, as it gives the papers plenty to write about.’
Milly sat with her elbows on the table holding her cup, something she would never have done in the Greens’ household, as she would have risked a telling-off from Betty. She had a dreamy look in her eyes as she remembered.
‘You were far away then. Thinking about something good?’
She came back quickly to the present. ‘D’you know, I wouldn’t mind going to one of their meetings, just to find out what it’s all about.’
‘You wouldn’t catch me there. Me dad would have forty fits if he thought I’d got mixed up in anything like that.’
‘I don’t know. I think it could be very interesting.’
‘Where do they hold their meetings?’
‘I don’t know. We should have picked up one of those leaflets they were handing out.’
‘You wouldn’t really go to one, would you?’
‘Well it wouldn’t do any harm. Not if you just went to listen and find out what they’re on about.’
‘You want to be careful. You could end up in clink.’
Milly laughed. ‘I only said I would go to a meeting, I didn’t say I’d join them.’ The last thing she wanted was to attract the attention of the police; she had far too much to hide.
As
they walked home, Milly’s thoughts were still on the marching suffragettes. Women should be able to have some say in matters, be it political or their lives. She had seen too many women knocked about by their husbands, and legally they couldn’t do a thing about it. By the time she said goodbye to Rita, she had made up her mind: she would find out when there was a meeting nearby and go along to see for herself what this was all about.
At seven o’clock the following Wednesday evening, Milly made her way to the hall where the women were going to hold a meeting. She was very nervous as she approached. A smiling woman in a white dress with a green, white and purple sash over her shoulder held the door open for her.
‘Good evening. I hope you enjoy our little get-together. Is this your first time?’
Milly nodded.
‘There’s nothing to worry about, we’re only going to tell you what we are all about. Please take a seat. The meeting starts in about a quarter of an hour’s time.’
Milly noted that the hall was decked out with banners and flags and looked very colourful. She went and sat next to a young woman who was looking all around her.
‘Hello,’ she said. The young woman looked as nervous as Milly felt. ‘Is this your first time?’
The young woman nodded. ‘Have you been before?’
‘No.’
‘I’m a bit worried about being here. If me husband found out, he’d kill me.’
‘I know what you mean, my dad’s the same.’
The woman was very fidgety and moved about on her chair. ‘I think I might go.’
‘As you’ve got this far, you should wait and find out what it’s all about.’
She gave Milly a faint smile.
There was a lot of shuffling, and suddenly the buzz in the hall started to recede, and then stopped as a well-dressed woman walked down to the front and up on to the stage.
‘Good evening, ladies,’ she said in a very well-spoken voice. She was dressed in the white dress and coloured sash of the movement. She was also wearing a very expensive-looking, beautiful large white hat.
‘Good evening, Mrs Bolton,’ came the reply.
Milly was entranced as Mrs Bolton explained to them why she so passionately believed that woman should have the vote.
‘We should have the chance to say who should be in Parliament and let women have a say in looking after women. We have repeatedly tried to influence the government with petitions and the like, but it has always been useless, so now we have started to take other measures to make ourselves heard.’
Milly was shocked when she heard the details of the things that had happened to those women who had been imprisoned, and the conditions they had to put up with. Some of them were even being force-fed. Mrs Bolton then went on to say how they were opening new shops and offices up and down the country to raise funds and make themselves heard. She told them that they were looking for recruits for their cause. Milly found she was clapping with enthusiasm along with everyone else. She felt a sense of purpose and wanted to be part of it.
When the speeches were over and the women began milling around and talking amongst themselves, Milly just sat and looked around. Her companion who had been sitting next to her had left.
‘Hello,’ said a young woman who looked a little older than Milly. ‘Haven’t seen you here before.’
‘No, this is my first time.’
She sat next to Milly. ‘My name’s Ada Roberts.’
‘Milly Ash,’ said Milly, holding out her hand. She didn’t care that she had given her real name this time.
‘Pleased to meet you, Milly. I was watching you, you seemed to enjoy the meeting.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Mrs Bolton’s a wonderful speaker. We were very lucky to get her here tonight.’
‘She’s not part of your group, then?’
‘No. We haven’t anybody that important. We have only been going for a few months, so we are just finding our feet, so to speak. Would you be interested in joining us?’
‘I don’t think so. I couldn’t go on marches, breaking windows and going to prison.’
Ada laughed. ‘We don’t all do that. Our job is mostly administration; it’s more to do with writing the newsletter and sending it out.’
‘That sounds interesting.’
Somebody was calling for Ada.
‘Coming,’ she replied. She turned to Milly. ‘I must go, but if you are interested, come and see me in our office. I work all day.’
‘I can’t, I work as well.’
Ada’s name was being called again.
‘Try and come into the office, this is the address.’ She handed Milly a leaflet.
Milly watched Ada walk away. She seemed very nice, and the office wasn’t that far away. Perhaps one Saturday afternoon she’d drop in there. After all, she had nothing to lose.
On Monday evening Milly was telling Rita about the meeting she had been to.
‘Did they all sing and bang a drum?’
‘No, it was very good. A lady gave a talk and told us about those who had been to prison and some of the things they did. They must really believe they should be getting the vote.’
‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about. Why do they want the vote anyway?’
‘It’s very important to them. They seem well-educated ladies so they must really believe in it.’
‘What for?’
‘To make a difference for women.’
‘But will it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Here, they didn’t tell you what they were going to get up to next time, did they?’
‘No, why?’
‘I could tell me dad, and he would make sure the papers were there to report it.’
Milly was taken a back.
‘So, are you going again?’
‘I don’t know. You could come with me if you want.’
‘I don’t think so.’
Milly knew then that if she had any intentions of going to another meeting it would have to be alone.
‘So when you going again?’ asked Rita.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps when it gets a bit warmer.’
Rita laughed. ‘I don’t think those who go to prison worry about the weather.’
It was Saturday the twenty-third of December and very cold. Milly wandered round the stalls at the market, looking for something she could give as a treat, a little present for everyone in the family. It was very colourful and noisy, with the traders shouting out about their wares. It certainly had an air of the festive season. There were chestnuts roasting in the braziers, and the organ grinder was churning out a noise that was supposed to be a tune that his monkey danced to, much to the children’s joy. Their little faces were pinched with the cold, some didn’t have decent boots or gloves to keep their hand or feet warm, but they all looked very happy and clapped enthusiastically. The butcher’s shop front was full of chickens and other birds, not that many round here could afford such luxuries. Milly could see some suffragettes handing out leaflets, and her thoughts turned fleetingly to Ada and the meeting that she had been to. She would leave going to see her till the new year, as she knew she had to try and make this Christmas in the Ash household the best they had ever had.
On the second-hand stall she found woolly gloves for Pammy and Bert and warm knitted scarves for Rosie and Iris. Some of the stitches had been dropped, which gave them a lacy-looking effect. She even managed to find a toy for Freddie. Even though it meant she had to spend another thruppence, she bought her father a pair of socks that had been neatly darned a couple of times. She smiled as she put her purchases in her bag. What would her father say about that? It was the thought that counted, though. A couple of chicken legs meant they were going to have a good Christmas dinner. As always, her thought went to the Christmases she’d spent with the Greens. She knew she would never get over those wonderful years, but they had gone for ever and she would never, ever forgive herself for what happened to Jane. A tear slid slowly down h
er cheek. If only she could turn the clock back, but she knew that could never be.
Chapter 23
THE NEW YEAR started very cold, and Milly was pleased she slept in the kitchen, as the warmth from the fire was comforting. In the morning she scraped the ice off the inside of the scullery window, and she knew that the cistern in the lav would be frozen. At least it was reasonably warm in the factory. As she passed the news-stand and read the headlines, she could see that the suffragettes hadn’t given up their quest to get votes for women. She knew that she would be going to see Ada soon, as she wanted to know more about the movement.
It was one Saturday afternoon at the end of January that she called into the suffragettes’ office. She was surprised at all the posters that were displayed round the walls announcing forthcoming meetings. Ada was at the back of the room turning a handle on some noisy machine that appeared to be spilling out paper.
‘Hello,’ said Milly tentatively to a young woman who was sitting at a desk.
‘Milly,’ called Ada when she turned and saw who it was. ‘You came. How wonderful. Eve, this is Milly. Milly was at the meeting when Mrs Bolton came and spoke to us.’
Eve stood up smiling. ‘Pleased to meet you I’m sure.’
Milly was taken back by this reception, and by the fact that Ada had remembered her name. ‘I just thought I’d come along to see what you do here.’
‘Well, as I told you, we send out a newsletter, and we also cut out all the remarks and pictures from the newspapers and store them. Who knows, one day when we get the vote, this could become part of history.’ Ada had an air of excitement about her. ‘We also accept any donations.’
‘People give you money?’
‘Yes, you’d be surprised at the amount some men give us, but they always ask us never to disclose their names, as they have to appear to disapprove of us.’
‘Please, take a seat, and would you like a cup of tea?’ asked Eve.
‘Thank you.’
‘Now,’ said Ada, sitting next to her. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘I don’t know really. Why do you think it’s so important that women get the vote?’