‘Mebbe there’ll be a thaw before then. I hope so, or we all might run out of food. Gerry OK, is she?’
‘Oh, yes, though she says it’s colder in the shop storeroom than it is outside!’
It was then that Billy, whose thoughts were never far from Evie, was reminded again of the disagreement at Geraldine’s birthday party.
‘Has anyone heard from the Carters?’ he asked casually.
‘Marie and Mary are the ones for writing letters but I haven’t heard that they’ve been in touch with Jeanie and Sue or Evie recently. Not since before Christmas. I think that bad business with Robert hit them hard. It’s difficult to write when you’ve lost heart.’
Billy set his glass down slowly. ‘What bad business? What’s happened to the little ’un?’
‘Oh, dear Lord, lad, have you not heard?’
Billy was filled with dread. ‘No. Tell me, Brendan. What’s happened?’
So Brendan told Billy all about Robert drowning, and that the Carters were in pieces over his death.
Billy listened, shocked and pale.
‘She never wrote to tell me, Brendan. How could she not have written with such news?’
Brendan knew Billy was speaking of Evie, and he also knew from Mary something of their falling out at Geraldine’s party, but he hadn’t realised the rift between them had never been healed. It was clear to him that Billy had thought Evie would write eventually, but that Evie had washed her hands of the poor fella. He wasn’t all that surprised. Evie was still only about seventeen and the family had been gone for months now. It was no wonder that the youthful romance between Billy and Evie had died a natural death, particularly when the Carters had so much to deal with in their new lives. But it wasn’t for him to voice this opinion and he didn’t answer.
‘I haven’t heard from Evie since … since Gerry’s party,’ Billy went on. ‘Poor little Bob. What an awful thing to happen.’ Downcast, he finished his beer, said goodbye to Brendan and went to collect his shovel from the pub’s porch.
While he cleared snow he thought long and hard about what Brendan had told him and reached the same conclusion that the kindly Irishman had: Evie no longer wanted to keep in touch with him.
That afternoon, when Billy returned to Fawcett Street in the muffled and strangely white twilight, his face was glowing with the effort of his snow clearing, but inside he felt cold.
‘I’ll make a pot of tea and we’ll open them biscuits I’ve saved from Christmas,’ said Ada, seeing the weariness in his face.
‘Oh, Mum, I’ve heard the most terrible news,’ Billy told her, as he pulled off his wellies and padded into the kitchen in two pairs of thick socks, the scarf Evie had knitted for him around his neck.
He told his mother about Robert Carter’s accident. ‘I haven’t heard a word from Evie, so I’d no idea. How could she not have written to tell me?’
Ada had her back to him, making the tea, and she didn’t dare turn round in case her face gave her away as she said, ‘What an awful thing. Poor lad. But those Carters don’t seem to have much luck, do they?’
‘Well, that’s true enough, Mum.’
Ada, who was genuinely sorry about Robert, and had heard the news from Dora Marsh at Christmas, came over then, looking sad, and hugged Billy to her where he sat on a kitchen chair. ‘It’s a bad business, true enough. I reckon they’ve got friends down wherever it is they live now and no need to share the news up here.’
‘But Brendan Sullivan told me,’ Billy pointed out. ‘The Carters have been in touch with Marie and the girls.’
Ada thought quickly before she undermined her own point. ‘Well, I know Sue Goodwin has always been one to share her news. It’s a generation thing, love.’
‘Maybe … but Evie used to write, Mum, as you know. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t let me know about young Bob.’
‘It looks like she’s stopped writing, love,’ said Ada, well aware that Evie had indeed stopped writing since the two letters she’d sent after she’d visited Bolton and at Christmas – and which were in Ada’s sideboard – had of course gone unanswered.
Ada hadn’t opened and read them – that would have been dishonest, she reckoned – but she could guess what was in the first after Geraldine’s party, and when she’d heard the sad news about Robert from Dora she knew what was in the second. No need to be bothering Billy with any of that. Though, now she thought of it, it was hardly a surprise that someone should have mentioned the little lad’s accident to him eventually.
‘The Carters have been gone a long time, Billy, and Evie’s got new friends now, I’m sure,’ said Ada. ‘As I’ve said before, she’s a long way away and she’s only young. She’ll know all kinds of different folk down there and it’s hardly surprising if she’s too busy with her new life to be thinking about Bolton.’
‘Yes, I reckon you’re right, Mum,’ Billy said. ‘But still, I thought she’d have let me know about this. We all liked poor little Bob.’
‘Mmm,’ said Ada, who had thought Robert an awkward child, sad though the news of his death was. ‘Well, I think this proves I’m right,’ she said, and Billy couldn’t really argue with that, having reached the same conclusion.
‘Sit down and have your tea,’ she went on, pouring out a cup.
‘Thanks, Mum. I think I’ll take it upstairs with me,’ Billy replied, and wearily went to his room to think through what he had learned.
Ada spent the rest of the afternoon alone, and the conversation over the tinned soup she heated that evening – taken from the enormous hoard she’d started to store in the larder at the sight of the first flurries of snow in January – was on her side only. Billy washed up and, as Ada settled beside the wireless to listen to the weather forecast, he came through with a cup of tea for her and declared he was very tired with all that snow shifting and he thought he’d get an early night, leaving her feeling quite alone in her own company.
In Church Sandleton the February snow was just as heavy as it was in the north. Michael was kept busy helping Mr Clackett to clear the market garden and lending a hand to their neighbours. The schools were closed so Peter was around, but he kept away from his father, shovelling snow with Letty and Miss Richards at Lavender Cottage at the far end of the village, the rest of the time playing music with the Thomas boys.
Evie and Sue didn’t mind the snow. They were working on refashioning the treasure trove of garments Letty had given them to make smart new clothes for Evie, and altering the ones Letty and Miss Richards had chosen to keep for themselves, in return for the generous hoard of beautiful clothes.
‘You look gorgeous, Evie,’ enthused Letty, when Evie put on a newly finished tailored two-piece to show her friend and Miss Richards what she and Sue had made from an old outfit.
‘Good fit, Sue,’ said Margaret Richards, inspecting the back of the neat jacket. ‘You’ve done wonders with that old costume.’
‘What you need now, Evie,’ said Letty, always full of ideas, ‘is a new hairstyle. Not that you don’t look pretty as you are, but maybe something a bit more grown-up …?’
‘I don’t know if I can afford anything very different,’ said Evie. ‘I usually just have the ends trimmed.’
‘Well, why don’t you ask your mum to pay?’
‘Letty!’ tutted Margaret. ‘That isn’t for you to suggest.’
‘I know, Aunt Margaret, but I saw Mrs Carter in Redmond before the snow and she had such a lovely new hairstyle. Maybe she could pay for it for your birthday – if you asked nicely, I mean,’ Letty laughed. ‘With the lipstick and bits Auntie and I gave you, your lovely new outfits and smart hair, you’ll have all the ladies in Redmond looking at you and asking where you get your clothes.’ She pushed the ever-open fashion magazine towards Evie. ‘If this model had long hair and a fringe like yours, it wouldn’t really go with the dress, would it?’
‘Letty, you are so rude,’ said Margaret, laughing.
‘But she’s right, Miss Richards,’ Evie agreed,
and Sue was nodding, too.
‘I reckon Jeanie will be all for that,’ she said, ‘and anyway, it’s time we went to see her. Soon as this wretched snow’s gone we’ll get the bus to Redmond.’
As soon as the roads were open and the buses to Redmond were running again Sue and Evie embarked on an expedition to see Jeanie. Evie wore her two-piece with one of Letty’s mother’s coats over it, which Evie had turned up but otherwise was perfect for covering any number of layers in the cold weather. Her shoes rather spoiled the effect but there was nothing she could do about those until she and Sue started earning again. The snow had been bad for business even if it had been good for Evie’s wardrobe.
They alighted in the market square. It was market day but what few stalls there were were a sorry-looking lot in the bleak weather. The fabric stall Evie had seen with Jeanie in the summer wasn’t there, which was disappointing, but then they didn’t have much money to spend anyway.
‘I’ve had an idea,’ said Evie. ‘You remember how Mum and me found Frederick by looking in the telephone directory? Well, I wonder if there are any fabric shops or haberdashers in Redmond. We could look them up and see.’
Sue agreed and Evie led her across the square to the imposing library. They sat at desks in the reference room and carefully wrote down two names and addresses in Redmond and one in Kingsford. Then, in a whisper, Evie asked the librarian where the local streets were and she and Sue listened carefully to the directions.
‘Let’s go and see Mum first, though,’ Evie suggested as they came out into the cold. ‘I’ve missed her so much.’
‘Me, too, love. Now where’s this Midsummer Row …?’
Evie could tell that her grandmother was impressed with the neat railings and steps up to the front door of Marlowe House, though Sue didn’t say anything.
Evie rang the bell, remembering how the fierce, angry woman had rushed out just as she and Jeanie arrived that first day. How much had happened since then. Now Jeanie lived here!
The smart front door opened and Jeanie’s smiling face greeted them. In a moment she was holding Evie close in a big hug, and then Sue.
‘Oh, Evie, love … Mum, I’ve missed you both so much. I was beginning to think with all that snow that I’d never see you again. The roads have been terrible here and I expect they were even worse in the village.’ She stepped back to let them in out of the cold as she spoke.
The first thing Evie noticed was how lovely her mother looked. She did indeed have a new hairstyle, as Letty had said, but there was something else about her. Evie thought hard about this as she gazed at her mother: less worried, not too thin any longer, and her face was a healthier colour, though that might have been the subtle make-up she wore as well. Her clothes were warm and casual – a hand-knitted jumper and trousers – but she wore them with style.
‘Mum, you look so pretty,’ Evie gasped.
‘Thank you, love,’ said Jeanie, accepting the compliment with a confidence she never used to have. ‘Come in and have a hot drink. Or you could stay for lunch. I’ve made some soup and there’s plenty.’
‘We won’t put you to any trouble,’ said Sue.
‘It’s no trouble. I’d like you to stay. We’ve got a lot to talk about.’
Evie and Sue looked at each other and smiled. ‘Yes, please,’ said Evie. ‘There’s so much to catch up on, Mum!’
Frederick came out of a room at the back of the hall and was delighted to see the unexpected visitors.
He hung up their coats, then showed them into the sitting room, where interesting-looking things stood on every piece of furniture.
‘Why don’t you and your mum go and make us that hot drink, Evie,’ suggested Sue, ‘and Frederick can show me some of these treasures?’
Evie and Jeanie did as they were asked.
‘Now then, Frederick Bailey,’ said Sue in her forthright way as soon as they’d gone downstairs to the kitchen, ‘I can see my lass is looking happy here, but I’ve heard there have been a few Mrs Baileys and I want to be sure you mean to do right by her.’
‘Well, Mrs Goodwin, I certainly mean to love and to cherish your beautiful daughter,’ Frederick replied, indicating an armchair for Sue and sitting down opposite her. ‘But it isn’t possible for me to marry her – at least not at the moment.’
‘Aye, she told me you’re already married,’ said Sue. ‘To the third Mrs Bailey, isn’t that so?’
‘It is indeed, Mrs Goodwin. Truth be told, I don’t actually know where the third Mrs Bailey is. I haven’t set eyes on her for years.’
‘Not know where your own wife lives? I thought I’d heard it all in my time …’
Frederick smiled. ‘I have to agree with you, Mrs Goodwin. I’ve rather let matters slide. But Jeanie, of course, is still married to Michael Carter, so there are two reasons why we can’t be married,’ he added pointedly, but with another disarming smile.
‘Well, I can’t argue with that,’ said Sue.
‘I have been married three times, though my first wife died, and I am still married to the third, and … well, Mrs Goodwin, I’d maybe have done things differently if I’d known how they were going to turn out. But this time I’m certain I’ve chosen right.’
‘But she’s Michael’s wife, Mr Bailey. She wasn’t free to be chosen by you or by anyone else.’ Sue couldn’t help raising this although she knew it was water under the bridge and there was no way Jeanie would suddenly remember her obligations to Michael and decide to go home.
‘You want her to be happy, though, don’t you, Mrs Goodwin? She is happy here.’
Sue knew there was only one answer to that, and it wasn’t about asking Jeanie to honour her wedding vows.
She sighed heavily. ‘She’s gone against her vows and left her family for you, it’s up to you to make sure she never, ever regrets it. Because she won’t want to go back to Michael – I can see that, and he’s certainly not been the best husband. But she’s left her children and if she hasn’t got you she won’t have anything.’
Frederick stood and took Sue’s arm to help her to her feet. ‘Yes, Mrs Goodwin, I mean to keep Jeanie with me for ever. I shall do my best to make sure she never regrets coming here,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t know if we shall ever be free to marry, but she is as dear to me as anyone can be and I dare to hope that she feels the same.’
‘Then,’ said Sue, ‘I think you had better call me Sue, because whatever she is and whatever she does, Jeanie will always be my daughter.’
Frederick looked into Sue’s formidable face and saw strength, kindness and good sense written there.
‘Thank you, Sue, and I shall be pleased to see you – and Evie and Peter – whenever you care to visit. Now I think Jeanie said something about a cup of tea, or even soup, and you and she and Evie can catch up with all your news while you have it.’
When Evie and Sue eventually left Marlowe House it was late afternoon and starting to get dark. There had been so much to say that the hours had flown by and Sue had lost all track of time.
Jeanie had said she’d book an appointment for Evie at her own hairdresser, and pay for her daughter’s new hairstyle and also some shoes with maybe a bit of a heel. They’d make a day of it next week and have some fun together.
Jeanie was full of praise for Evie’s new outfit and the plans for expanding the sewing business into more ambitious projects. ‘You should go into tailoring and make a suit for Freddie, Mum,’ she grinned, looking sideways at his frayed shirt collar and trouser hems.
‘No, I’m not that good. I only do dress patterns,’ said Sue. She could see that although Frederick was shabbier than anyone with no money, such as those that lived in Shenty Street, it was almost an act, a kind of statement of style rather than through necessity. Kind of as though he is dressing up, she thought.
The Carters talked about Peter and shed a few tears over Robert, which they couldn’t help because they all missed him so much. Jeanie wrote the date of Peter’s concert in a smart diary by the tele
phone and promised to try to go if there was no danger of Michael being there.
‘I don’t want any awkwardness in public,’ she said, ‘and there’d be no avoiding him in a church hall.’
‘I don’t suppose Peter wants him there either,’ said Evie.
‘I’ve just had an idea,’ Jeanie said, pen still in hand. ‘You could do with a telephone at Pendle’s, what with taking on customers in Redmond, couldn’t you?’
‘Ooh, Mum, I hadn’t really thought. It would be a great help, wouldn’t it, Grandma, so we’d be able to arrange fittings and tell them when their clothes were ready?’
‘Yes, you’re right, love,’ Sue agreed.
‘I’ll ask Jack to arrange that for you,’ said Frederick.
‘Oh, thank you,’ beamed Evie. ‘We’ll be like a proper business, with a telephone and everything.’
‘It is a proper business anyway,’ said Jeanie, smiling at Sue and Evie, ‘and I couldn’t be more proud of you.’
That night, Evie lay in bed thinking about the day and how much she’d enjoyed seeing her mother. It wasn’t just that she missed Jeanie, but her spirits were raised by what she had found. She remembered how she’d begged Jeanie not to leave them, but now it was obvious that it had all been for the best. Jeanie had been different … happy, despite still grieving for Robert. Evie couldn’t remember ever seeing her mother that happy before. She was clearly very much in love with Frederick – and he with her – so that even the house felt like a happy place to be. It was almost as if the walls had been smiling.
Evie shrugged off her fanciful notion while accepting that here was a lesson for the new Evie to learn. The new Evie was now a seamstress who was about to launch a proper business with an expert needlewoman, Sue, and she had some beautiful outfits to show off their talents and style. They were even going to have a telephone installed. All they needed was to put in some hard work and everything would be fine. It was all down to them.
A Woman's Fortune Page 20