Luck Be a Lady

by Anna King

  Billy Gates opened the front door, his large, homely features dropping in amazement when he saw who his late-night visitor was. Rebecca tried to say something, but her fragile body had other ideas. Her last memory was of Billy Gates calling for his mother, then being carried into the warmth of their home.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Rebecca’s stay at the Gateses’ house turned into two weeks, by the end of which she was nearly climbing the walls with boredom and frustration. Overnight she had gone from being a skivvy, nursemaid and general dogsbody into an exulted guest who was waited on hand and foot. Which was very nice, at first, and made a pleasant change from her previous existence. Ada Gates fussed over her new lodger like a mother hen. Rebecca only had to cough and Ada was there with a cup of tea, or the bottle of medicine Dr Barker had left when he had visited her on Christmas Day.

  At first he had gone next door and been told, rather tersely, by the new master of the house, that none of the Bradford family resided there any longer. Luckily, Ada, a kindly but inquisitive soul, had seen his carriage pull up and no sooner had the door of number 17 slammed in his face than she had opened hers wide and invited him into her home.

  That had been a happy day, for Ada, proud to have such a distinguished gentleman in her modest house, had invited Tom to stay for Christmas dinner. It had come as a huge relief to Rebecca when he had accepted the invitation, for she had become very fond of the kindly, gruff-spoken man. Their Christmas entertainment had been heightened by the loud shouting from next door, as Maude and Richard fought like cat and dog over his impromptu wedding arrangements. Then Ivy Harris had arrived, and the arguments had ceased for the time being, only to resume some two hours later. Through the thin walls, the occupants of the Gates household could hear every word. And from what they heard it was obvious that Richard’s fiancée wasn’t prepared to take up Rebecca’s duties. The four people eavesdropping next door strained their ears, their faces alight with glee as they heard Ivy’s strident voice issue Maude an ultimatum. Either to get her lazy backside out of bed and run the house or to be carted off to a home. It had come as a great source of amusement to the listeners to hear Richard make numerous attempts to have his say, only to be shouted down by the womenfolk. Only Ada had shown any sign of concern for Maude’s future, until Rebecca had informed her that the so-called invalid had been living a lie for nearly twenty years, and was just as capable of looking after herself as any other woman of her age.

  Rebecca’s news had come as no surprise to Tom, who had suspected all along that the irritating, unpleasant woman’s claims of suffering from a debilitating illness were all a sham simply to get attention, and avoid work. Before he left that evening, Tom advised Rebecca to make the most of being cosseted, adding kindly that if anyone deserved looking after, she did; and Ada Gates was only too willing to help the young woman who had always shown her respect and kindness.

  With such loving care and attention, Rebecca was soon back on her feet, and such was the concern of Ada and Billy Gates for her well-being, she didn’t have the heart to leave them. But by the end of the first week of January, Rebecca had had enough. What with Ada hovering around her like a shadow, afraid the young woman might fall dead at her feet at any moment, and Billy following her around like a puppy, his soulful eyes pleading for some sign of affection from the woman he adored, Rebecca decided it was time she moved out.

  It had been an emotional farewell, particularly on her part. They had been very good to her and she felt guilty and ungrateful about leaving them, but once she was fully recovered she could no longer ignore the strong urge to be on her way.

  Before she left, she had found herself a small flat above a shop in Mare Street and immediately sent a letter to Jimmy and Amy at the hotel where they were staying, informing them of her new address. She had played down the reason for her hurried departure from her home on Christmas Eve, simply stating the plain facts, that Richard was planning to marry and move his new bride into the house, and that she, Rebecca, had fallen out with the future Mrs Fisher, and was staying with the Gateses for the time being. If she had even hinted that something was seriously wrong, she knew Jimmy and Amy would have been back on the first train, and she hadn’t wanted to ruin their Christmas. She had given the matter considerable thought before putting pen to paper, and decided that, in the circumstances, it would be better for all concerned to keep her suspicions to herself until they returned from their holiday – however long that might be.

  She knew Jimmy would be disappointed that she hadn’t taken up residence in his own home, but Rebecca hadn’t felt comfortable at the thought of living by herself in such a huge house. She had also experienced an urgent desire to prove, if only to herself, that she was capable of standing on her own two feet. Her independent streak was too strong to allow her to sponge off others, even the man she intended to marry. For years she had longed for a place of her own, and her independence. Now she had the chance, she wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip away. Once she was married, she would become an ordinary housewife, supported by a man who was financially well off, leaving her no excuse to find a job of her own, and she desperately needed to know if she was capable of making something of her life – even if it was for only a short period of time.

  Her next task was to find employment, and that wasn’t as easy as she had imagined. With no skills, the only jobs on offer were for menial labour, and she’d had enough of that sort of work. But by the 1st of February, with her money running low, she’d had to swallow her pride and take a job as a machinist in a small dressmaker’s establishment, where she toiled away in a back room with three other women from eight in the morning until six at night. All in all, it wasn’t a bad job. The shop was only five minutes’ walk from her flat, and her employers, two middle-aged sisters, were kindly enough.

  Then a letter from Jimmy had arrived, telling her he intended to take James to France for the remainder of the winter months. The letter had been lovingly written, asking her to understand his need to strengthen his bond with his son, and begging her to be patient a little while longer. The disappointment was double-edged, as Amy had also written a pleading letter, asking if she could go with them. Rebecca had been devastated. She had braced herself for the knowledge that it might be several months before she saw Jimmy again, but she had imagined Amy would be back with her by the New Year. She had been sorely tempted to write back, demanding that Amy return home, but at the last minute she had changed her mind. As desperate as she was to learn the truth as to what had happened between her sister and Richard, it was obvious that Amy had her heart set on going abroad. Taking into consideration that the opportunity might well be the last one Amy would ever have to travel, Rebecca had put her own hurt and disappointment aside and given her permission for her sister to go.

  The only comfort she had over the following months were the weekly letters from Jimmy and Amy, which she would read over and over again to pass away the lonely evenings. And at those times, which were many, when she returned to her solitary flat and experienced a sense of loneliness wash over her, she reminded herself that this was what she had wanted. What she had dreamt of for years. To have her own home and a paying job, to feel a sense of pride that she was at last supporting herself. Yet such is human nature, that dreams, when they do come true, never quite manage to live up to expectations.

  To break the monotony of her life, she often went to Jimmy’s house at the weekend, familiarising herself with the layout of the home she hoped she would soon be the mistress of. But without the presence of Jimmy and the irrepressible Bessie, the house seemed desolate and unwelcoming.

  Then her fortune changed.

  *

  The first piece of luck she had occurred one day in the first week in March. She had been working on a dress for herself. Having no sewing machine, she’d had to make it by hand, as she had always done. It had been a long, tedious process. With the hours she put in at work during the day, she had little enthusiasm to pick up h
er needle and thread when she arrived home. Yet some evenings, she had found her hobby soothing; it had also helped while away the lonely evenings. Eventually the dress was finished and, without thinking of her accomplishment, she wore it to work the following day, and was immediately asked by the proprietors of the shop where she had purchased it. When she told them she’d made and designed it herself, they became very excited, bombarding her with questions as to how long she had been engaged in such work. Rebecca was astounded by the fuss. She had never seen her sewing skills as anything more than a necessity, and was content with the sense of satisfaction she’d always felt when a particular garment was finished.

  Within a week, she was promoted from the dreary day-to-day work of routine machining and given the task of making a costume or dress to her own specifications, with the view to becoming a designer in the shop, depending on if her creation, when completed, was good enough to sell. Unfortunately Rebecca had never been any good at drawing, her ideas coming from her creative mind and nimble fingers. That fact didn’t deter the sisters, who were delighted they had found such a unique talent. An unused boxroom became Rebecca’s office, and from there she made her first dress for the shop.

  When the final stitch had been sewn, Rebecca examined the garment over and over, searching for any fault she might have overlooked, before showing it to the owners. Finally, when she could stall no longer, she took a deep breath and presented the soft green silk costume to the eagerly waiting sisters.

  For what seemed like hours, Rebecca held her breath while the two middle-aged women examined the two-piece costume, turning it this way and that, peering at the intricate white lace trimming the collar and cuffs of the jacket, and the tiny red buttons that ran in a zigzag pattern across the bodice. Then they turned their attention to the skirt, which Rebecca had left unadorned and fashioned into a straight line with a two-inch flute at the hem. Then they looked at each other, their thoughts unspoken but understood. They had indeed found a treasure in this young woman – a treasure that was doubled by the fact that the young woman in question clearly had no idea of the talent she possessed.

  Rebecca wasn’t aware she had stopped breathing until her employers, their faces beaming with delight, asked her to display the costume in the window straight away. Within two hours it had been sold, and from that moment Rebecca’s life changed.

  Every waking hour was now filled with her work. As soon as she had completed a garment, it would be placed instantly in the shop window, and be sold by the end of the day. Word of the unusual designs soon spread, and the small, modest shop soon became the focus for the well-to-do woman, all of whom were anxious to possess a dress or costume that no one else had.

  To meet the demand, Rebecca began working at home as well as at the shop. Though now she had the use of a sewing machine, provided for her by her employers, who still couldn’t believe their luck at finding such a talented seamstress – until they realised that Rebecca could now easily set up on her own, and take the majority of their customers with her. By this time, Rebecca had become aware of their anxiety, and assured them she had no ideas about setting up on her own, as she was due to be married as soon as her fiancé returned from abroad. But her employers weren’t so easily reassured. They immediately doubled her wages, and allowed her to work her own hours. This Rebecca did, often working into the small hours of the morning. It was hard work, but it took her mind off her loneliness and sadness.

  *

  The winter months had long gone, as had spring, and Rebecca was beginning to wonder if she would ever see Jimmy or Amy again. They both wrote each week without fail, and in every letter Jimmy sent he promised it wouldn’t be much longer before they were together, but still there was no definite word as to when they would be returning to England.

  She was re-reading Jimmy and Amy’s letters one Sunday in June, when there was a knock on her door. Thinking it might be Dr Barker, who was her only visitor these days – and those visits were rare as he was a very busy man – Rebecca eagerly ran to the door.

  ‘Hello, Becky.’ Amy, her face filled with apprehension, as if not sure of the welcome she would receive, stood nervously on the threadbare-carpeted hallway.

  She needn’t have worried. With a yell of pure joy that resounded throughout the building, Rebecca pulled Amy into her arms, then they both burst into tears. Tears of relief, but mostly tears of joy that they were finally reunited.

  When the paroxysm of tears abated, they both started to talk at once.

  ‘Oh, Becky, I’ve missed you…’

  ‘Amy, love, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. How have…’ Then they started laughing, then crying again, as they hugged and kissed and babbled incoherently.

  Much later, after they had calmed down, they sat talking, never taking their eyes off each other, as if frightened that if they did one of them might vanish. Even though they had been exchanging letters regularly, telling each other all their news and what was happening in their lives, they still had a lot to talk about, but Rebecca, just grateful to have her sister back with her again, let Amy do most of the talking. Yet even in her joy, Rebecca couldn’t help noticing how much her little sister had changed. She had left a young girl, now she had the appearance and confidence of a woman much older than her sixteen years.

  Also Rebecca couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy as Amy recounted her experiences over the past six months. Up until now, Rebecca had been feeling very proud of her achievements, but her small claim to fame seemed to pale into insignificance compared to the wonders of staying in posh hotels and lying on sun-drenched beaches in the South of France. Then she rebuked herself for her pettiness. If anyone deserved a taste of luxury, it was Amy, particularly in light of what might have happened to her.

  Rebecca was bursting to ask Amy about that afternoon when she had gone cap in hand to Richard in order to get Phil out of trouble, but, seeing the glow in Amy’s cheeks, which was apparent even under her tanned skin, and the happiness radiating from her eyes, Rebecca hadn’t the heart to broach the subject. Not that she was going to let the matter rest. Oh, no! Not until she knew the truth. For now though, she must bide her time and wait for the right opportunity to bring up the subject.

  Then, her silent thoughts were nearly wrenched from her mind into speech as Amy, looking around the small but tidy room, asked, ‘Have you seen Phil lately?’

  At the mention of her brother’s name, Rebecca felt the old anger returning, but just as quickly curbed her temper.

  Shrugging, she answered, ‘No, I haven’t seen him since Christmas Eve. I would have mentioned him in my letters if I had. The last time I saw Phil, he was leaving the house without so much as a “Merry Christmas”. As soon as he heard Richard was getting married and moving back in, Phil knew his time there was limited. I suppose he wanted to move out on his own accord before he was thrown out. Still! He’s a grown man. I dare say he’s managed to find some kind of employment and a roof over his head. If he hadn’t, he’d soon have taken the trouble to find out where I was and moved in here… Oh!’ She shook her head impatiently. ‘You already know most of this from my letters; I haven’t seen anyone from that house since Christmas Eve. Though I still see Ada Gates from time to time, usually when I’m out shopping.’ A smile spread over her face. ‘There I go again, telling you things you already know.’

  Leaning back in her chair, Rebecca’s eyes became thoughtful. ‘Now then, what did I write in my last letter? I’ve told you Richard and his new wife aren’t getting along too well, and that Ada says they’re always fighting. You know how thin those walls are between the houses, especially if you put your ear up against them.’ She laughed gaily, but inside she was hoping that the mention of Richard would prompt some reaction from Amy, but her sister showed no signs of distress. Maybe nothing had happened. Maybe it was just her hatred of the man in question that made her think the worst of him. But if that were true, then why had Phil looked so ashamed when she had tackled him? And why h
ad he left the house in such a hurry and, to this day, made no effort to contact her?

  But Amy was talking again. ‘Never mind them. I still can’t get over the fact that Maude was never a cripple. When I read your letter telling me about her, I just couldn’t take it in. I mean, what sort of person would lie in bed for twenty years and let their life just pass by? I still can’t understand it. And when I think of how you had to wash and clean up after her… Ooh, it makes my blood boil.’ The anger in Amy’s voice caused Rebecca to flinch. It was as if she was listening to a different person. Then the moment was gone, and the old Amy was back. ‘Let’s not talk about them any more, Becky. I want to hear about you. Oh, Becky, I’m so proud of you. I always knew you were good at dressmaking, but I never dreamt you could make such a good living from it. Why, it sounds like you’ll soon have your own shop.’ Her face alight with enthusiasm, she laughed gaily. ‘I can just see the sign now: “Rebecca’s Fashions”, hung over one of those posh shops up the West End.’

  Now Rebecca laughed. ‘Whoa! I don’t think that’s very likely. I’ve only been doing it for a few months. I hardly think the big stores up the West End are about to lose any sleep over me stealing their trade.’

  ‘Don’t put yourself down, Becky. I think you’ve done brilliantly. I couldn’t have done it. I’d be quite happy waiting on tables for the rest of my life if I had to, although Charlie says…’ Her cheeks turned red under the sun-tanned skin.

  ‘Oh, yes. Charlie says what exactly?’ Rebecca teased.

  The colour in Amy’s cheeks deepened as she plucked at the skirt of her dress nervously. ‘Nothing, really. You know what Charlie’s like. Always mucking about. He just said that… Well, that when we were married, the only waiting I’d be doing was for him… But… but, he was only joking. I mean, I’m only sixteen. That’s much too young to be thinking about getting married… Isn’t it, Becky?’