The man nodded sympathetically. ‘I can see he’s got a bit of the devil in him. But he’s not the only one. We’ve a lot of apprentices here, lass, and I have to keep me eye on ’em all.’ He tapped the side of his huge nose. ‘Don’t you worry, love. He’s just one more I’ll be watching.’
Her smile was genuine as she said with relief, ‘Thank you, Mr Carpenter.’
‘Now, mi duck. Let’s see what we can find for you to do, eh?’
‘Thank you, sir. There’s just one more thing. Do you know of anywhere where we could take lodgings? There’s four of us.’
‘Soon to be five, eh?’
Eveleen nodded.
He rubbed a handkerchief across his forehead wiping away beads of sweat. ‘Now I’ll have to think about that. Where are you staying at the moment?’
When Eveleen told him, he pulled a face. ‘That’ll be costing you.’ He smiled, his jowls wobbling, ‘And the rules’ll be a bit rigid, I bet.’
Eveleen smiled. ‘We’re used to worse than that, Mr Carpenter.’
‘Can’t promise anything, mind, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll ask around the factory.’
Eveleen thanked him again and then waited while he heaved himself up from the chair and lumbered his way around the desk and out into the passage. ‘But for now, we’d better set you to work, lass.’
He led her to the adjacent building. They climbed five flights of stairs with Josh pausing on every landing to regain his breath. ‘I don’t – come up here – very often,’ he puffed and smiled. ‘You can see why.’
Eveleen smiled kindly at him but could not think of a suitable response. When they reached the top floor Josh led her into a large, airy room with large windows on all sides. The noise greeted them as they opened the door, but this time it was not the clatter of machinery but the chattering of the forty women at work in the room. They were all seated, except for one woman who appeared to Eveleen to be some kind of supervisor.
The sound of their voices died away as they became aware that Josh Carpenter had entered the room. One or two glanced up, stared for a moment at Eveleen and then bent their heads again over their work. The woman and young girls were all neatly dressed in high-necked blouses and long dark skirts and everyone seemed to have their hair smoothly coiled or plaited into the nape of their neck. In stark contrast Eveleen felt suddenly wild and unkempt and her dress and shawl shabby.
‘This is the inspection and mending room,’ Josh explained. Each worker had a bale of lace fabric spread over their knees and spilling on to the floor and Eveleen could see that they were examining the material carefully and mending any faults.
Josh raised his voice. ‘Miss Brownlow, could you spare me a moment please?’
The supervisor left the table where she had been inspecting a length of dress lace and came towards them.
‘This is Miss Eveleen Hardcastle. She has shown me some of the pillow lace she has made and it is very fine.’ He glanced at Eveleen and smiled, ‘Very fine work indeed.’ He turned back to Miss Brownlow. ‘So I am sure she would be suitable for the work here.’
It was a statement not a request and the woman, thin-faced and with a hooked nose that dominated her features, could only purse her small mouth and nod in reluctant acquiescence.
Josh turned to Eveleen. ‘Miss Brownlow will look after you and I’ll not forget what you asked me. I’ll see what I can find out. Come and see me after work.’
As the door closed behind him, Eveleen felt the curious eyes of all the women in the room upon her. She heard the soft laughter that rippled through the room like a breeze. Close by she heard a young girl murmur, ‘Another one for Josh’s harem, eh?’ And Eveleen felt an embarrassed flush creep up her face.
Thirty-Two
‘Miss Binkley,’ the sour-faced supervisor called forward one of the young women. ‘Look after her and show her what to do.’ Miss Brownlow’s scathing glance raked Eveleen from head to foot. ‘I don’t expect she’ll be much use, but we’ll have to take her if he’s taken a fancy to her.’ She gave a loud sniff. ‘And perhaps a little responsibility will do you no harm.’ With her back ramrod-stiff, the woman went back to her table. Unseen, the girl pulled a face. Miss Binkley, about the same age as Eveleen, was fair-haired with blue, mischievous eyes, a small nose and a laughing mouth. She touched Eveleen’s arm in a friendly gesture and whispered. ‘Don’t worry, she’s only jealous. I don’t reckon she’s ever had a man in her life, not even one like old Carpenter. Come on,’ she led the way carefully through the mounds of delicate fabric on the floor. ‘My name’s Helen, by the way. Sit near me and I’ll show you what to do.’
One or two of the other women sitting nearest to Helen looked up and smiled, but soon, resuming their chatter as they worked, they had forgotten all about the new girl.
At the end of that first working day, Eveleen found her way back to Josh Carpenter’s office.
‘I’m sorry, but I’ve been so busy this afternoon. One of the machines went wrong.’ He pulled a face and Eveleen held her breath, praying that it had nothing to do with Jimmy. But as Josh continued, she let out her breath in relief. ‘I haven’t had the time to ask around. But I’ll see what I can do tomorrow.’
She smiled her thanks and went outside. Jimmy was already halfway along the street with two or three other youths of his own age. Eveleen had the uncomfortable feeling that her dear brother would not arrive back at their lodgings until much later that night and then probably he would be rolling drunk and likely get them thrown out.
For once, however, Eveleen held her impetuous tongue in check. If she called out to him, belittled him in front of his newfound friends, Jimmy would then do it deliberately.
Eveleen sighed. Either way, she couldn’t prevent the inevitable.
‘Please, just one more day.’ Eveleen was obliged to plead with the woman running the home the following morning, after Jimmy had woken half the house – maybe even half the street – sitting on the steps outside in the early hours and singing at the top of his voice. Eveleen had scuttled down and dragged him in but not before the warden, or whatever she was called, had heard him too.
‘I am sorry,’ she added.
The woman mellowed enough to say, ‘It’s not your fault, Miss Hardcastle. I can see that. But I stretched the rules to let him stay here at all and see what he does?’
‘I know,’ Eveleen said helplessly. ‘And we’ll move out as soon as I find somewhere, I promise.’
‘All right then, but if he comes back in that state tonight, I won’t have him in the house. He’ll have to sleep in the street.’
Eveleen nodded and went upstairs to drag her leaden-headed brother from his bed. ‘Come on, you,’ she said roughly. ‘You’ve cost us our place here. I’m not going to let you lose your job an’ all.’
Nearing the lunch break, a man came into the inspection room. He stood in the doorway and looked about him. He spoke to one of the women nearest the door and she gestured towards Eveleen.
Helen nudged Eveleen. ‘Looks like you’ve got yourself an admirer already.’
‘That’s Fred Martin,’ Sarah, who sat near Helen and now Eveleen too, remarked. ‘He’s married to Win and they’ve got six kids. Their eldest daughter works at the Adams’ place on Stoney Street.’
Helen pulled a face at Eveleen and grinned. ‘He can still come looking, though, can’t he?’
‘Not if Win catches him, he can’t,’ someone else close by said.
That was the thing about factory life, Eveleen was swiftly learning. Whatever was said to the person sitting next to you was overheard and usually taken up by half a dozen others.
The laughter rippled around them as the man stepped carefully among the workers towards Eveleen.
‘Hello,’ he said, nodding at her in greeting. ‘My missis has sent me. Said to watch out if any new girls turned up here and I was to be sure to ask you if you was getting on all right.’
Eveleen dropped her work, stood up and held out her hand, smil
ing as she did so. ‘Oh you must be the husband of the kind lady I met in Stoney Street when I came the other day looking for work. It was her suggested I came to Reckitt’s. She said you worked here.’
The man’s smile broadened. ‘That’s my Win. She collects lame ducks. No offence, love.’
‘None taken,’ Eveleen said at once. ‘I was certainly a lame duck that day by the time I’d finished tramping the streets.’ The man laughed and those listening around them joined in.
‘So,’ he went on. ‘Are you all right, ’cos I’ll have to report back now I’ve found you.’
‘Yes, thanks. I’m fine. And it’s thanks to your wife I am.’
‘Good,’ he nodded, raised his hand and made to turn away. ‘I’ll tell her that. She’ll be pleased to have helped you, love.’
‘There is just one thing,’ Eveleen said hastily. ‘You don’t happen to know of anywhere to rent do you?’
‘Just for you?’
Eveleen shook her head. ‘No. There’s four of us.’ Eveleen bit her lip. She had been about to say more but there were too many listeners for her to want to confide more. All around them the women had fallen silent and were listening intently.
Fred wrinkled his forehead and said, ‘I don’t know of anywhere but I’ll ask the wife. She might. I’ll let you know tomorrow.’
‘Thanks. I’d be ever so grateful.’
As he left, she sat down again and resumed her work. The buzz of conversation rose again and soon Eveleen and her problems were forgotten. Only Helen said, ‘I’ll ask around too for you.’
Eveleen opened her mouth to express her thanks when she noticed that once again the workers had fallen silent. Then a whisper rippled through the room like a breeze.
‘It’s him. It’s Mr Stokes himself. By the door, look. He’s just come in.’
‘I hope that handsome son of his is with him.’
‘Shut up, Lucy. You’re too old for him. The lad’s not even twenty.’
‘Mebbe he’d like an older woman. I’d like the chance to teach him a thing or two.’
Eveleen looked up to see that two men had entered the room. The first was a man in his mid-forties. Tall and slim with dark hair that was greying at the temples, he had clear-cut features, a long straight nose and a firm jaw. The second man was much younger and, quite obviously, the son of the older man, for he resembled him in looks and build. The first man looked about him, his expression stern, but the young one smiled and nodded to the women nearby.
‘Oh, isn’t he the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life?’ Helen sighed ecstatically.
Eveleen stared at the young man until, as if feeling her eyes upon him, he turned to look at her. Boldly she held his gaze for a long moment, then dutifully she bent her head over her work again.
‘No, he isn’t, actually. But then I have no liking at all for handsome men,’ Eveleen said, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone as Stephen’s fair, chiselled features were suddenly in her mind’s eye. ‘I’d sooner have an ugly one who was kind and reliable.’
‘In that case,’ Lucy piped up. ‘Look no further. Old man Carpenter’s going free.’ The ripple of laughter around her made the older man look across towards where Eveleen was sitting and frown.
Eveleen concentrated on her work and took no more part in the whispered conversation among the other women. She didn’t want to incur the wrath of one of the owners of the factory on only her second day there.
Not until the two men had gone did she say, ‘Who did you say they were?’
‘That’s your employer, Eveleen. That was Mr Brinsley Stokes and his son, Richard.’
So, she had been right. The older of the two men had been her mother’s lover more than twenty years earlier. And now it was too late. She had the promise of work for both her and Jimmy. Work she dare not give up just because one of the owners had once treated her mother so shamefully.
Eveleen frowned over her work and, for a moment, her fingers trembled as she thought of the shock it would give her mother if she ever found out.
She would have to make sure that never happened.
‘You’re quiet,’ Helen said. The muted buzz of conversation had begun again once Mr Stokes and his son were out of earshot.
Eveleen looked up and forced herself to smile. ‘Sorry.’
Helen leaned closer. ‘You’re taken with him, aren’t you? Master Richard.’
‘Of course not,’ Eveleen snapped. ‘I’ve told you, I’m not interested in handsome men. You can’t trust them any further than you can throw them.’
Instead of taking offence at her sharpness, Helen said quietly, ‘You’ve been hurt, haven’t you? Someone’s hurt you very badly.’
At the kindness in her new friend’s voice, Eveleen felt a lump in her throat and tears prickle behind her eyelids. She bent her head and tried to hide them, but Helen touched her arm. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Forget him, whoever he is. He’s not worth it.’
Eveleen gave a watery smile and looked up. ‘You’re right there. He wasn’t.’
‘But they’re not all like that, you know,’ Helen said gently. ‘Don’t tar ’em all with the same brush, just ’cos one’s been a right bastard.’
Eveleen said nothing. She couldn’t expect Helen to understand.
She had fallen in love with Stephen Dunsmore. She had given him her heart completely and he had crushed it. She was never, she vowed, going to give herself to any man like that again. She was not going to give anyone the chance to hurt her again.
The meeting – although it could hardly be called that – with Brinsley Stokes and his son had disturbed her. She couldn’t confide in Helen, nice though the girl seemed, and by lunchtime she was in such a state of agitation that she went in search of Jimmy.
She slipped into the machine room, even though she knew she should not be there. She walked down the aisles of machines until she came to where her brother was working. She stood watching him, taking in his every movement.
Luke Manning, the skilled twisthand deputed to train Jimmy, shouted orders above the clatter of the machinery. He was a thin man in his late forties or early fifties, with thinning grey hair and a slight stoop to his shoulders. His face was pale and gaunt, but his mouth was pursed in a cheery whistle, even though his tune could not be heard above the racket. Catching sight of Eveleen, he winked at her, pointed to Jimmy and then raised his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head in mock despair.
Then she saw Luke gesture with his hands, explaining yet again an operation that even Eveleen had just witnessed him showing her brother. A few minutes later, Luke pointed to her and signed that Jimmy could take a short break to speak to her.
Shouting above the noise she said, ‘Can’t you try a bit harder? I saw him having to show you the same thing twice and I’ve only been here a minute or two.’
‘Reckon you could do better, do you?’ Jimmy snapped.
‘I could make a darn sight better job of it than you’re doing.’ She moved closer and dropped her voice, although above the clanking machinery all around them it was doubtful they would be overheard anyway. ‘Look, Jimmy. You need this job. Try and make a go of it.’
Jimmy glared at her resentfully. ‘Don’t boss me about, Evie, else you’ll be sorry. I’ve enough of ’em round here shouting orders at me all day long. And the feller who takes over from us’ – the twisthands, as the machine operators were called, worked in shifts so that the machines were kept running for twenty hours out of every day – ‘he’s been tittle-tattling to the foreman already. I’m sick of it, I tell you. For two pins, I’d be off to sea.’
Eveleen’s patience snapped. ‘This is only your second day.’ She stopped and sighed. She didn’t want to fall out with her brother. ‘Look, I’m sorry. At least give it a go, eh?’
‘Well,’ he said slowly and then grinned at her. ‘Just for you then.’
They smiled at each other, then Eveleen said, ‘I didn’t come here to find fault with your work�
�
‘There’s plenty doing that already,’ Jimmy grimaced but his good humour had been restored. ‘What did you come here for then?’ He grinned cheekily at her. ‘Just wanted to walk past all the fellers, eh? Let ’em all see what a fine figure of a woman you are.’
Eveleen laughed at his absurdity. Nothing had been further from her mind. Then her expression sobered. ‘I shouldn’t really be here anyway, but I had to see you. I have to talk to someone.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Do you realize who we’re working for?’
He blinked. ‘What d’you mean? I’m working for Luke Manning and over him is this bugger of a foreman called Porter. And above him, it’s Carpenter—’
‘Watch your language, Jimmy.’
Jimmy laughed. ‘Oh, I aren’t working for Holy Joe now, Evie. There’s worse language than that flying round here, I can tell you. I reckon that’s why they keep the “ladies” from coming in here.’
‘Is that what they used to call Uncle Harry behind his back? Holy Joe?’
‘Oh aye. And worse.’
Eveleen still had such mixed feelings about her uncle. Part of her admired him for the way he tried to live his life and yet . . . She pulled herself back to the problem of the moment. ‘Never mind about that now. No, I mean do you know who the boss is? The man whose name is painted on the factory gates. Stokes. It’s Brinsley Stokes.’
Jimmy still looked puzzled. ‘So? What about it?’
‘That’s the man who caused our mam all that trouble. Years ago.’
Jimmy stared at her. ‘You’re not serious?’
Eveleen nodded. ‘I am. Gran told me his name. And how many other Brinsley Stokes do you think there are round here?’’
‘What on earth did you want to get us a job here for then? I’m likely to kill him if I get near him.’
Eveleen spread her hands. ‘I thought it was a coincidence. That it couldn’t be him. It wasn’t until I heard his first name this morning – Brinsley – that I knew for definite. It’s such an unusual name, it’s got to be him.’ She leant closer, speaking urgently, ‘Look, just don’t tell Mam, that’s all. She needn’t know.’
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