A Woman's Fortune

by Josephine Cox

  ‘Mmm …’ said Sue, wondering if Frederick Bailey had found a woman he liked enough to keep, and hoping, if Jeanie was as much in love with him as she appeared to be, that she was at last the one he wouldn’t pass on. But Jeanie had said that one wife had died and the next two had left him, so maybe his being tired of her was not something to be worrying about. The thing was, though, there were always two sides to any story, and a man who’d had three wives couldn’t be entirely blameless for that situation. Could he?

  In the days after Jeanie left, Evie couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother had said about choices and making her own luck. She worked at the sewing machine in silence, turning her mother’s words over in her mind, and Sue darned alongside her, also silently.

  By the beginning of February Evie felt she was somehow waiting for something to happen. Maybe it was the arrival of a letter from Billy, which never came, she decided. If Billy wouldn’t reply to her letters then maybe she should get in touch via Mary.

  Dear Mary,

  I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to reply to you. I was really pleased to get your letter with your kind words about our Bob, and the good wishes of all your family. I know your mum also wrote to Grandma Sue, Mum and Dad, and they were made up by her thoughts and a funny little story she told about him. Christmas wasn’t much of a celebration, as I expect you can imagine. We were pleased to get the card from you all, though.

  It’s not too good here, but Grandma Sue and me are doing our best and are working hard at the sewing. Mum has left us and has gone to live elsewhere, though she’s nearby and we will see her soon. I think she just got fed up when Bob died and now that Peter’s gone to stay with friends in the village.

  Evie read through what she had written and thought it just awful. How could she spread all this misery around? Her heart wasn’t in sharing her news, especially the actual truth of it. She tore the letter up and threw the pieces on the kitchen fire. Stupid, stupid, stupid …

  If only Billy would get in touch. She’d been silly to spoil the weekend when she’d gone to Bolton for Geraldine’s party but now it seemed that she would never hear from him again. She felt hurt that he hadn’t even written to say anything about Robert, but she’d done her best with the two difficult letters she’d sent him. He’d always been so reliable and kind, but it was clear now that he didn’t want to keep in touch with her. Maybe, a bit like her mother, he’d found someone else he’d rather be with, who was kind herself and didn’t fly off the handle, and who was fond of his mother and didn’t say mean things about her. Maybe, more to the point, he’d found someone Ada liked, someone who Ada thought was good enough for her only son …

  The more she thought about it, the more Evie decided that this was exactly what must have happened. How could she not have worked it out before now? How undignified. He was simply no longer interested … when he was probably already in love with someone else and had forgotten all about her. Someone who was all pretty and glamorous and wore fine stockings with seams in them instead of ankle socks like a schoolgirl, and maybe had red lipstick and a swirly skirt like the ones pictured in her magazines. Evie picked one up, a treat at Christmas that she had thought would help lift her spirits and inspire her and Sue with new ideas. She flipped through and admired the impossibly slim models in elegant poses, their snooty faces beneath pert little hats and offset by fur-trimmed coat collars; their slender ankles and high-heeled shoes beneath yards of well-cut skirting. She sighed again. How far they seemed from real life … from herself, in her thick, warm trousers and well-washed jumper with the darned elbows.

  ‘Evie, Grandma?’ It was Peter calling.

  ‘In here, Pete.’

  ‘He’s not here, is he?’ Peter appeared at the kitchen door, Letty behind him.

  ‘No, he’s at Clackett’s. He won’t be back for a while. Grandma’s gone down the road to measure up for some curtains. Let me pour you both some tea and you can tell me your news. We’ll take it through to the front, shall we? I’ve been sitting here and sort of forgot all about the shop. I don’t want folk to think we’re not open for business.’

  ‘You need a bell,’ said Letty. ‘If you’re not in the room your clients can summon you.’

  ‘Great idea, Letty. I can’t think why we haven’t thought of that before. We’re always having to “keep an eye” on the shop.’

  ‘Mebbe Frederick will have one you can use,’ suggested Peter.

  ‘Perhaps. Have you been to see them?’

  ‘Oh, yes, a couple of times after school. He’s got such an interesting house and Mum does seem much happier. She’s much more smiley than she was here and she sort of looks different, too.’

  ‘In what way?’ asked Evie, handing Peter and Letty their tea and leading them through to the front room, taking her magazine with her.

  Peter thought about it. ‘Difficult to say. She’s still the same old mum, and wears mostly the same things, but there’s more … drama, I suppose, about the way she wears them.’

  ‘Style?’ suggested Letty. ‘More style?’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. Bits of jewellery and stuff, and a smart new belt on an old frock, that kind of thing. Even the way she tucks her jumper into her slacks.’

  ‘You always had an eye for what looks right, Pete,’ smiled Evie. ‘Remember how you set up the front room to look like a proper dressmaker’s workroom?’

  ‘It is a proper workroom,’ said Letty, sitting down at the table and reaching for Evie’s magazine. She turned the pages as Evie asked Peter about his guitar lessons and what else he was doing at school. Then Letty joined in as they talked about the band and Peter invited Evie to go to listen to a concert they were to play in a church hall. After a while he got up to leave.

  ‘Don’t want to have to see Dad,’ he said, ‘so I’d best be off now. Sorry to miss Grandma but I’ll catch her soon. Don’t forget to tell her about the concert and maybe she’ll want to go as well.’

  ‘I’ll tell her. Bye, Pete.’

  The front door shut and he waved through the window and was gone.

  ‘All right, Evie, what’s the matter?’ said Letty.

  ‘Oh, you know …’

  ‘I know about Robert, of course, and your mum going. But Pete’s seen her and it sounds as if she’s fine.’

  ‘Yes, it does, and I’m glad. But, oh, Letty, I still wish she hadn’t gone. Dad’s hardly around these days, what with Mr Clackett keeping him busy and then his going out every evening, and it feels so empty with just Grandma and me here all the time.’

  ‘You’re missing the others, that’s all, Evie.’ For a moment Letty looked sad and Evie knew that of course she understood.

  ‘But it’s something else as well, Letty. I’ve been thinking a lot since Mum left and what I’m really fed up with is being me,’ said Evie. She looked down at the shapeless and slightly itchy trousers, at the jumper felted with wear, an old and fraying shirt underneath it. ‘I wish I looked more like these women.’ She pointed to the magazine, which Letty had left open on the table. ‘No wonder Billy’s probably found someone new – who would want a girl looking like me on his arm?’

  ‘Good heavens, Evie, where on earth has all this come from?’ asked Letty. ‘You’re lovely.’ She laughed then. ‘Though I have to admit that your clothes aren’t! But then mine aren’t either, and I don’t care.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t got much to spend on fancy clothes – and certainly not stuff like that.’ She indicated the gorgeous suit in the fashion spread. ‘And anyway, at the moment it’s all about keeping warm.’

  ‘You’re right there,’ agreed Letty. ‘I have at least five layers on most days. The forecast is for snow again, too. But everyone has to have new clothes, and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have something that looks a bit more like … Well, take that dress, for example. I expect you and Mrs Goodwin could copy that design and come up with something similar.’

  ‘Such a lot of fabric in it, though, Letty. I’m not sure we could ru
n to that just for me.’

  ‘Nonsense, Evie. You’d be a walking advertisement for the business. Or how about one of those straight skirts? No excuse about too much fabric in that. When people see how well-dressed and smart you look, and how well made your clothes are, they’ll want something the same. Before you know it, there’ll be commissions for all sorts – no more kitchen curtains!’

  ‘Aye, Letty, love, I can see what you mean,’ said Sue, coming in to hear the last bit. ‘No use me getting done up in sharp tailoring: I haven’t got a sharp figure. But I reckon it’s time our Evie had a few new things, summat more grown-up and suitable for a working woman, and you’re right about needing to show off our skills. Who’s going to believe an old woman and a scrap of a girl could make them summat nice to wear? And Evie’s the one to show off our style.’

  ‘Hello, Mrs Goodwin.’ Letty got up and kissed Sue’s cheek. ‘I’m so glad you agree. You see, Evie, we agree so you’re outnumbered. And I’ve just had the most terrific idea.’

  ‘Not another one?’ laughed Sue, sitting down and unzipping her boots.

  ‘Yes, but I’ll have to ask Aunt Margaret first.’ Letty got up and buttoned on the layers she’d hung on the back of the chair. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow.’

  ‘Ask Miss Richards about what?’ said Evie. ‘You can’t leave us guessing.’

  ‘Oh, but I can!’ laughed Letty, pulling on her knitted beret. ‘Don’t sit there being miserable about your clothes any longer because I may have thought of the perfect solution.’

  She departed laughing and blowing kisses, and the air settled as it always did behind her liveliness.

  ‘The perfect solution, indeed,’ smiled Sue. ‘Well, we’ll see, but she’s a good ’un, is Letty Mortimer. Now, let’s get the kettle on and then I’ll make a start on these curtains while I can still read the figures I wrote down.’

  ‘I’ll copy them out larger for you, Grandma, if you like? And while the kettle boils I can tell you what Peter said when he was here earlier, about how he’s doing, and about Mum.’

  ‘I can see from your face it’s good news. Not such a bad day, after all, then?’

  ‘No, Grandma,’ said Evie, following Sue through to the kitchen. ‘And I’ve been thinking all the time about what Mum said that morning she left.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’

  ‘About making her own luck, and choosing what she wanted and not what she was given.’

  ‘And what about you, Evie? You’ll be seventeen in a few days, old enough to begin on your own path through life. What destiny will you choose, love?’

  Evie paused to get her thoughts in order. Then she said carefully, ‘I’m choosing to link my destiny to yours, Grandma. But I won’t be the same little Evie any longer. If we’re to make something of this sewing business – make a success of it and grow it, not just make it something we do day in and day out, for ever, without it going anywhere – we need to make some changes. We should look for new customers, as we said we would, and take on dressmaking rather than household linen and mending so that’s what people get to know us for. No more boring old kitchen curtains! Our customers can bring their own fabrics, but we need to find a source nearby of nice trimmings and some lengths for smaller garments. The mill shop in Bolton is too far away and we can’t keep calling on favours from old friends, nor expect them to choose the fabrics for us. It’s time to make some big decisions together – you and me, Grandma – and I reckon we can make a real go of it.’

  Sue smiled. ‘I like the sound of all this and you’re good enough at the sewing now to take on some ambitious garments.’

  Ambitious. Evie thought about it. It wasn’t a word she’d ever applied to herself before. But things were going to be different from now on.

  ‘Let’s get that tea made and we’ll raise a cup to toast the future and big decisions,’ she laughed, and Sue agreed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The next morning Evie and Sue got up with a renewed sense of purpose and set about finishing their current sewing tasks as quickly as they could so they could start to concentrate on exciting new projects.

  Michael had gone to work quietly and dutifully on time. His anger seemed to be spent, to be replaced by sadness but also a misplaced sense of hope that Jeanie would return.

  ‘She’ll not stay away for long, I reckon,’ he’d said to Sue as she poured him a mug of tea, and she smiled and offered to pack him up some sandwiches for midday in case he was too busy to come back over the road to eat. He thanked her politely and accepted, leaving meekly a few minutes later.

  ‘It’s as if his spirit has been quite crushed, poor Dad,’ said Evie.

  ‘Don’t worry about him, lass,’ Sue replied. ‘I’ll see him mend his ways before he gets much of my sympathy …’

  Halfway through the morning Letty appeared with a big smile, and a huge pile of clothes in her bicycle basket.

  ‘I’ve asked Aunt Margaret and she isn’t upset if I do what I want with these,’ she announced, bringing in the first armful of garments, then going back out to the bike to get the rest.

  ‘What are they?’ asked Evie, getting up to look. ‘My goodness, Letty, these are lovely. Where did you get them?’

  ‘Mum,’ said Letty simply. ‘Oh, it’s all right, don’t get all sad about it. It’s my idea to get rid of them. I can face it now. It’s time.’

  ‘But they’re so pretty and … well, I think they were quite expensive. Your mum must have looked smashing.’

  ‘She did,’ said Letty. ‘But I won’t ever wear these, and I don’t need them to remind me of her. I’ve got some photographs of her in them. Aunt Margaret has kept a few things, including a nice warm coat, and I’ve got one as well, and a couple of dresses that I may wear when I’m performing with the band, but all these are spare and just taking up room in the cottage. As you know, I don’t care much about clothes. I thought that maybe you could use them somehow … if you want?’

  Sue was feeling the quality of the fabrics and then she held up one of the dresses. She could see it was a bit too wide and a lot too long for Evie.

  ‘Would you mind if we altered them, even cut them up a bit?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ said Letty. ‘I would expect you to. They’re yours if you want them.’

  ‘Oh, we do, we do!’ said Evie, laughing and hugging Letty. ‘You are such a love.’

  ‘Letty, lass, you’re an answer to my prayers,’ said Sue. ‘I’ve been awake half the night wondering how I can get together a few smart outfits for Evie to show off our skills without spending any money.’

  ‘I would have explained yesterday, but I had to ask Aunt Margaret first. The clothes are mine to do with as I like but I didn’t want her to be upset by my giving them away.’

  ‘Quite right, love. You’re a good girl.’

  ‘And there are more, but I couldn’t get them on the bike.’

  ‘More?’

  ‘Oh, yes, this is only a fraction.’

  ‘Your mother must have been as smart as the Queen,’ said Evie, holding up a light red evening dress with a row of tiny pearl buttons down the front. ‘Oh, Grandma, look at this!’

  ‘Not really, but Dad used to get asked to a lot of functions and Mum needed to look nice, too.’

  ‘It all sounds very grand,’ said Sue. ‘What did your father do?’

  ‘Oh, something in the government,’ said Letty vaguely. ‘Not the kind of thing I understand … Anyway, if you can use them I’m really pleased. Now, I’ll leave you to look through these clothes and I’ll bring the rest along soon.’

  ‘Thank you, lass.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Letty. You’ve made our day,’ said Evie.

  ‘Made our year, more like,’ said Sue. ‘And if you need anything you’re keeping altered or refashioned, I’ll be glad to do it for you. Same for your auntie, tell her.’

  ‘Thanks, I will. Bye, then.’

  ‘That is so generous,’ said Evie after they’d waved Letty off, her exper
t hands sorting through the lovely materials. ‘It seems a shame to cut them up.’

  ‘Well, they’re no use to you if we don’t,’ said Sue sensibly, ‘because they’re probably all too big for you. I think we should go through them piece by piece and see what’s what.’

  ‘Good idea. Oh, Grandma, it’s like Christmas,’ said Evie, feeling a lightness in her heart for the first time in a long time.

  The snow that had fallen in Bolton back in January turned out to be nothing compared to the amount that fell over the whole country in February.

  Billy was unable to go to work because the roads were blocked and, anyway, the post wasn’t getting through to be sorted and delivered, so he spent his days with a working party of local men – and some women, too – clearing the roads and making sure his neighbours were all right.

  They met at the Lord Nelson, and at first there was a worry that the pub would run out of beer, but the snow-clearing gang knew where their priorities lay, and the roads between the brewery where Michael Carter used to work and the pub were among the first to be cleared. There would be beer for as long as there were barrels ready to deliver to the Nelson.

  Billy wasn’t a big beer drinker but clearing the roads was thirsty work.

  ‘I’ll have a half of mild, if you’ve got it, please,’ he told the landlord, stopping by one lunchtime.

  ‘Make that two, please,’ said a soft Irish voice behind him.

  ‘Brendan, hello. I’ve not seen you for a bit. You all surviving?’

  ‘Just about, Billy, but I tell you, the house seems very small when we’re all there all day long.’

  ‘I bet it does, with the lads not at work and the schools closed.’

  ‘I thought I’d join the working party this afternoon for a bit of peace and quiet. Only our Gerry’s at work, and I reckon Mr Amsell will have to close the shop in a few days if he can’t get any deliveries. He’s running on what’s left on the shelves and then that’s it.’