She waited until she thought her face was composed and then she followed Billy back into the party, determined not to spoil the occasion for anyone else. She looked around but there was no sign of him. Maybe he’d gone out the back – it really was extremely hot in the sitting room. She went into the kitchen and out to the yard but there were only smokers out there.
‘What’s up?’ said Mary, suddenly by Evie’s side when she came back indoors.
‘Nothing.’
‘Ah, come on, Evie. You’ve a face like Billy’s mum. What’s happened?’
‘I have not got a face like Ada Taylor,’ hissed Evie.
‘Oh … I understand,’ said Mary. ‘That woman … She really is the limit, with her selfishness and her headaches. Oh, and don’t think we haven’t all twigged by now. She’s come between you, hasn’t she? Don’t worry about it, darling Evie. Billy’ll come round. You know what lads are like – the boys are the same with their mum. Our Cormac is only six and he’s the most grown-up of the lot.’
‘Oh but, Mary, I said some horrible things. And they weren’t even true – well, some of them were but I still shouldn’t have said them.’
‘Don’t fret, Evie. Everyone has a little disagreement now and again. It’ll blow over. Now I think Ma is going to bring a birthday cake through in a minute. I expect she’s just got delayed lighting all those candles. I hope we’ve got the fire brigade on standby …’
So Mary tried – and mainly succeeded – in jollying Evie out of her temper and the rest of the party evening passed in catching up with old friends, dancing with Stephen Sullivan – who was very like a taller, older, more Irish version of Peter, and made Evie laugh at all his tales of the scrapes he got into at work as a gardener for the local council – and keeping an eye open in case Billy reappeared.
He didn’t reappear, however, and later on Marie said he’d told her he was going home to check up on his mum, which made Evie secretly cross all over again.
It was very late when Evie escorted Dora Marsh back next door and they bade each other goodnight very wearily. So sleepy was Evie that she slipped into bed in Dora’s spare room with barely a thought for Billy before she was fast asleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Evie was ready to leave her beloved Shenty Street again. She’d already been round to the Sullivans to thank them for a lovely party and to promise to keep in touch. Mary had given her a big hug and told her quietly not to worry about Billy.
‘He’ll come round. It’s his mother who’s being awkward, not you, Evie. You wait, he’ll be down to see you with a big bunch of flowers before long,’ she had reassured her friend.
‘… And give my best love to your grandma, Evie, sweetheart,’ called Dora.
‘I will, Mrs Marsh, don’t you worry.’ Evie turned at the top of the street to see the kindly widow still waving.
No sign of Billy, though.
Well, what did you expect? As Mary said last night, he’s a mummy’s boy at heart. Ada obviously won’t allow him out by himself this morning to see you off.
Mary had also said the row would blow over, Evie reminded herself, and Mary was right about most things. Obviously it hadn’t blown over yet, though, she reflected as she trudged off alone to the station carrying her case and the heavy bag of fabrics she’d purchased on Friday afternoon.
It was freezing cold at the station but the train was already waiting on the platform. Evie found a seat and sat down, hot with the burden of her luggage and the remnants of her temper.
‘Evie? Evie Carter? It is Evie, isn’t it?’
Evie looked up at the woman sitting in the seat opposite.
‘Mrs Russell, what a lovely surprise!’
‘My dear, how are you? Such a long time since I’ve seen you,’ said Mrs Russell, as the train pulled out of the station.
She looked much the same as she had when Evie and Sue had last delivered her washing to her house in summer, the day the family had found out that Michael owed money to Mr Hopkins, but somehow she had an air of purpose about her, an energy that she had never shown in the pretty pink-and-white drawing room where she sat alone.
‘I’m very well, thank you, Mrs Russell, and Grandma is, too.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that. I’ve been worried about you. Of course, I sent Annie to see if she could find out what had happened to you so I know some of it, and the rest is none of my business anyway. But I gather you live somewhere else now?’
‘We do. I’m here to see some friends, that’s all. We had to go away, but Grandma’s said often that she was sorry not to be able to say goodbye to you.’ Evie lowered her voice. ‘It was a bit difficult. We had to go quickly, like.’
‘And how is Mrs Goodwin doing? I imagine she’s making the best of things.’
‘She’s set up a sewing business: a bit of dressmaking, alterations and repairs and making curtains and stuff. I’m her assistant and we’re doing all right.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Give her my very best wishes, won’t you?’ said Mrs Russell. ‘I had a lot of time for your grandmother. As I say, she makes the best of things.’
‘I will. Thank you, Mrs Russell.’
‘In fact, I have your grandmother to thank for a new turn in my own life.’
‘How can that be?’
‘Well, I always admired the way Mrs Goodwin got on with things and made her own way. I know life could be difficult for her and fate hadn’t dealt her many advantages of circumstances, but so far as she could, she influenced her own destiny. She didn’t just let things happen – whether good or bad – she always did her best to bring them about to her advantage. I know it was she who decided to do mending and alterations as a sideline to the washing, and that’s when I heard about her. She was using her talents, and making a success of it.’
‘You’re right, of course,’ said Evie, proud that this kind and gentle lady should think so well of her grandma.
‘Now, I played the piano quite a bit when I was younger – you may have seen my piano in the back room – but when Mr Russell was killed I rather gave up. Gave up in more ways than one, I’m afraid. I didn’t want to play any more. Nobody to play for, I suppose. Anyway, my cousin, who lives in Manchester, told me about a choir that needed an accompanist and she said she thought I should apply. Of course, I was very out of practice and … scared – yes, that’s the right word – really scared that I’d make a fool of myself. But then I thought of your grandmother. I asked myself, “What would Mrs Goodwin do?” and I knew she wouldn’t sit there feeling sorry for herself. Instead she’d be using her talents to make her own way. So now you find me going to Manchester to accompany the choir, as I do every Sunday.’
Evie was delighted to hear this account, and even more pleased that Grandma Sue had played a part, even if she hadn’t known it.
‘Congratulations, Mrs Russell. That sounds such a lovely thing to happen.’
‘It is, Evie. It isn’t just that I’ve made new friends, and I’ve unearthed my old and nearly forgotten love of music, but I get out and see all kinds of people now instead of sitting at home and knowing only my neighbours. We do concerts all over the place – in churches, mainly – and it’s made such a difference to my life.’
She beamed at Evie, and Evie felt she could hardly wait to get home to tell Grandma Sue.
The train pulled into Manchester Victoria station and Evie and Mrs Russell said their goodbyes, Mrs Russell looking elegant and surprisingly youthful as she strode away to her rehearsal.
Evie’s spirits had been lifted by this encounter and she stepped out towards London Road station with a spring in her step.
The train south was late leaving and very crowded. Evie had to stand in the corridor and there was hardly room for her luggage. A group of men came to stand nearby, smoking heavily and making lewd jokes, and Evie shifted away so she wouldn’t have to listen to them.
‘Can’t you see it’s crowded? There are no seats further down. You might as well stay where you are,’ b
arked an ill-tempered woman as Evie tried to get past.
‘Sorry … excuse me, please,’ said Evie, edging by as best she could, certain that the cross woman was deliberately standing in her way.
‘You all right, love?’ said a younger woman at the end of the corridor. ‘Ain’t much room here, but if you sit on your case you’ll be more comfortable.’
‘Yes, thank you.’ Evie did as she suggested, though the catches and the handle made it an uncomfortable seat, but at least she took some of the weight off her feet, which were aching after all that standing up at the party yesterday.
She got to thinking about the party, and about the disagreement with Billy, and how they’d parted without making up or even saying goodbye. Mary had seemed to think it would all be all right between them, but would it? Evie acknowledged she could never warm to Ada now she knew she had stopped Billy coming down to see her that time. She wouldn’t forget the disappointment of that miserable morning at Redmond station in a hurry.
The train chugged on, seeming to take forever. It surely hadn’t taken this long to go the other way on Friday?
‘Something to do with signals, I reckon,’ said the young woman, as if reading Evie’s mind.
Evie nodded. She’d told them at home which train she’d be on and someone was going to be there at Redmond to meet her. No doubt there would be an announcement at the station of how late the train was running. She hoped whoever was waiting for her wasn’t worried, and cold and bored.
‘Here’s my station – Kingsford,’ said the young woman.
Evie stood up as the train pulled in and moved aside to let people get off and on. It was only when the train was pulling out of the station that she realised her case was no longer against the wall where she’d been sitting. Frantically she looked around, but there was no sign of it.
‘Lost something?’ asked an elderly man who had just got on.
‘My case. I was sitting on it until Kingsford and now it’s gone!’
‘What’s it look like?’ asked the man, looking around as if Evie could possibly have missed it.
‘Quite small, and covered with tweedy-looking shiny paper.’
‘I saw a young woman getting off at Kingsford with a case something like that,’ said the man. ‘Out of this door here,’ he pointed.
‘Oh, no …’
Evie sighed heavily, wondering if there was anything she could do about it. The woman would be long gone by the time the train pulled into Redmond. Thank goodness, at least she was still holding the heavy bag of fabrics.
‘Speak to the guard when you get off,’ suggested the man.
‘Yes, I will. Thank you,’ said Evie, thinking this train journey had been horrible from the moment she’d boarded in Manchester. What with the theft and the delay, added to yesterday’s row with Billy, she could hardly remember whether she’d had a nice time at the weekend at all.
The train arrived at Redmond station at last and Evie got out, making doubly sure she had her remaining bags with her. What was the point of speaking to the guard – what on earth could he do about a stolen case further up the line?
The lamps were lit on the platform and fog hung in clouds, making the globes of light dull and yellow. Evie looked along to see who had come to meet her.
‘Mum!’
‘Evie, love!’ Jeanie came rushing up to hug her. ‘So late … you must be tired … thought it’d never arrive.’
‘Oh, Mum …’ Evie burst into tears like a small child, hugging her mother.
‘Evie? What on earth’s the matter, love? What’s happened?’
So Evie told her mother about having her case stolen at Kingsford. This was neither the time nor the place to express her woes about Billy’s mother and the row – the real cause of her tears.
Evie dried her eyes as her mother patted her back and made comforting noises, then Evie became aware of someone standing beside them.
‘Mr Bailey! Oh, I’m sorry,’ she sniffed. ‘I know I’m being silly, it’s just … everything …’
‘Freddie has very kindly offered to take us home in his car,’ Jeanie explained.
‘Oh, but I hope you haven’t been waiting for ages, as well as Mum,’ Evie said to him. ‘I am sorry.’
‘It really is no trouble at all,’ said Frederick. ‘We soon discovered the train was going to be late so we quite simply went back to Marlowe House and waited in the warm until just now.’ He and Jeanie smiled at each other. ‘We had rather a nice time, actually. We’ll speak to the stationmaster about your stolen case. You never know, it might yet turn up in left luggage, though I fear that’s unlikely, and you ought to give a description of the thief, in case she’s already known to the police. I hope you haven’t lost anything precious or irreplaceable?’
Evie had to smile at that. She didn’t own anything precious or irreplaceable.
‘No, nothing like that.’
‘Come on, then, let’s have a word with the stationmaster and then get you home,’ said Frederick.
It was cramped in the back of the car, and dark and not very warm, though Frederick had put on the heater. He drove carefully through the fog, Jeanie in the passenger seat beside him. Every so often she looked back at Evie and gave her a reassuring smile so that by the time they arrived at Pendle’s all danger of more tears had passed and Evie merely felt tired and reconciled to having lost her belongings and her special friendship with Billy.
Frederick helped Jeanie out, then Evie and her bag, said goodnight, kissing Jeanie’s cheek, which Evie was too tired to notice, got back in the car and made sure Jeanie had the front door open before he drove away.
‘What a long way he’s come, just to bring us home, Mum.’ Evie stood in the passage, unbuttoning her coat.
‘He’s very kind,’ said Jeanie.
‘How come Mr Bailey was at the station? Had he been on a journey, too?’
‘Mmm …’ said Jeanie, taking a silky patterned scarf Evie couldn’t remember seeing before from around her neck and absently stowing it in her coat pocket. ‘Mum, Michael, boys! Evie’s back,’ she called.
The door of the big kitchen at the end of the passage flew open and Peter and Robert were there, firing questions at Evie and pulling her through into the warm room.
Evie gratefully took the cup of tea her father handed her and tried to answer everyone’s enquiries about who she’d seen and what their news was, but she felt too tired to deal with all their excitement.
‘You look ready to drop,’ said Sue. ‘Off you go and get in bed, love, and I’ll bring you a bowl of soup if you promise not to spill it on the sheets.’
But when Sue took the soup up, Evie was already fast asleep.
The fabrics Evie had chosen at the mill shop attracted the attention of customers coming in with alterations and commissions for curtains or cushion covers. Once word started to get round the village that Sue Goodwin had some stylish winter dress material of top quality on her shelves, more women came in specifically to look, and she and Evie suddenly had commissions for several garments to make up in time for Christmas.
‘I thought I saw your Robert yesterday morning, going through the back into the field,’ said Josie one day, as she sipped tea while she and Sue looked over romper patterns for Nancy now the little girl was starting to take her first steps.
‘Robert? Surely not. He’d have been in school,’ said Sue.
‘Oh, well, I was surprised, but I must be mistaken,’ said Josie. ‘Now, a bib with a pocket would be sweet, don’t you think …?’
As soon as Josie had gone Sue picked up on what she had said. ‘He’d better not be skiving off school,’ she grumbled to Evie. ‘I know he’s found it difficult to settle but that’s no excuse.’
‘Shall I see if I can find out, Grandma? Mebbe it’s a misunderstanding.’
‘And mebbe it isn’t,’ said Sue, darkly. ‘But yes, please. If there’s owt the matter we need to know what it is.’
When Robert came in at around the usual time that
afternoon, but looking cold and with slightly muddy shoes, Evie suspected that Josie hadn’t been mistaken at all.
‘Good day at school, Bob?’ she asked, making him a jam sandwich while Sue continued working in the front room.
‘’S’pose.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘Nowt much.’
‘How’s the Nativity play coming on?’
‘Dunno …’
She passed him the sandwich on a plate and a mug of milky tea. ‘All right, Bob, the game’s up. I know you weren’t at school this afternoon. Why was that?’
He tucked into the sandwich hungrily, not answering.
‘And I bet you didn’t have anything to eat at dinnertime, did you?’
At that, he pushed the plate away and screwed his fists into his tearful eyes.
‘Tell me.’
‘It’s horrible at school. All the others have best friends and lots of other friends, too. I’ve got no one.’
‘Who do you sit next to these days?’
‘I told you, no one. I’m by myself at the back.’
‘Oh, Bob …’
‘And I was going to be the Innkeeper in the play, Miss Grainger said, but one of the other teachers, Mrs Kelsey, said she couldn’t understand what I was saying and Miss Grainger was to choose someone who was “nicely spoken”.’
‘Well, that doesn’t sound like Miss Grainger to me. She’s always been fair to you.’
‘But it’s Mrs Kelsey who’s in charge of the play and she’s got a loud voice and the other teachers have to do as she says. She’s right bossy.’
Evie sighed. ‘Do you want Mum to go and see Miss Grainger again?’
‘No! I don’t want to go at all. I’m fed up of the others poking fun and making out I’m daft.’
‘But I thought you’d put all this behind you?’ said Evie. ‘Weren’t things better after the success of Guess the Weight?’
‘They were for a bit, but then it got bad again.’
‘Well, you have to go to school, Bob. It’s the law. You can’t hide in the woods all day, especially now it’s winter. You looked cold when you came in and it’ll get a lot colder yet. We’ll ask Mum to go and speak to Miss Grainger again, or maybe this Mrs Kelsey, as she’s the one who’s made things difficult for you over the play.’
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