A Woman's Fortune

by Josephine Cox

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Gerry.

  Billy had briefed her about his mother’s mood. ‘I don’t know what she’s after, Gerry. Sometimes she just wants some attention, so if you can bear to go and see her, at least she’ll have a fresh face to look at. Mebbe she’ll snap out of it when she thinks she’s stayed in bed long enough.’

  ‘Would you like me to make you a cup of tea, Mrs Taylor? Billy says he’s left you a sandwich.’

  ‘Oh … Geraldine, that would be so kind. I haven’t anyone to make tea for me, what with Billy out all day on his rounds. He’s a good lad, though.’

  He’s a saint to put up with you. ‘He is indeed,’ agreed Geraldine, sweetly.

  Ada was encouraged by this reply. ‘Do you see much of Billy, Geraldine, love?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Billy and I are great friends,’ she beamed. ‘We’ve known each other for years and … well, you grow closer over time – you know what I mean?’ she added artlessly.

  Ada perked up for a moment, forgetting she wouldn’t make it to Christmas.

  ‘If you make me that tea, love, we can have a little chat,’ she suggested. ‘Have a cup yourself,’ she added.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs T. I’ll just go down and do it.’

  A few seconds later Gerry called up, ‘The tea caddy’s empty, Mrs Taylor. Have you another packet?’

  ‘I keep it in the sideboard in the front room,’ called back Ada, her voice surprisingly strong.

  Gerry went to find it and was astonished when she saw the size of the hoard of tea. Saints above, the woman must be mad! It looked like she’d withstand a siege. How many were there? Out of sheer naughtiness she quickly pulled the packets of tea out to count them. If nothing else it would make a good tale to confide to her mother. Twenty-five!

  And what was this? She reached in and extracted two envelopes that had been right at the back of the cupboard behind all the tea. Both of them were addressed to Billy and neither had been opened. Strange … She looked at them carefully. There was something familiar about the handwriting … Mary had had letters in the same round schoolgirl hand. Suddenly Geraldine knew. There was no doubt these letters were from Evie Carter, and no doubt either that Billy’s mother had taken them and hidden them from him. After all, why would Billy himself have not opened them, and why would he hide them in the sideboard, which was definitely his mother’s territory?

  For a moment Geraldine debated with herself whether to put the letters back where she’d found them and forget all about them. They were, after all, nothing to do with her. But she knew that Billy had been out of sorts since his split from Evie, and Brendan had said that the poor lad hadn’t even known about what happened to Robert. A quick glance at the dates of the postmarks confirmed these letters had arrived last winter and Geraldine would have put money on it that they contained the vital news.

  She quickly put all the packets of tea back in the sideboard, arranging them as they were but with a gap at the front to show she had taken one out. Then, as she went back into the kitchen, she slipped the letters into her handbag, which she’d left in the hall. It wasn’t stealing, she told herself. It was Ada who was the thief. These were Billy’s letters and she would be simply delivering them into his hands at last.

  Her conscience clear, Geraldine made the tea, found the sandwich on the kitchen table and took Ada’s lunch upstairs for her. Out of sheer devilment she’d put three spoons of sugar in the tea.

  ‘Here you are, Mrs Taylor. It really is hot in here.’ Fanning herself, she went to open the window even wider. ‘Nothing like fresh air to bring colour to your cheeks.’ She smiled kindly at Ada.

  ‘I don’t know about that—’

  ‘So how long have you felt bad, Mrs Taylor?’

  ‘Ooh, weeks at least. I’ve not been right since the snow.’

  ‘And have you seen the doctor?’ Geraldine had been told all about the doctor’s visit but she was feeling spiteful since she’d found Billy’s letters.

  ‘Hmm. He was no use.’

  ‘Oh dear, whatever did he say?’

  Ada looked abashed. ‘He said it’s only a summer cold and we weren’t to waste his time again,’ she muttered.

  ‘Oh dear, how cruel! And there’s you suffering. Maybe you should get a second opinion, Mrs Taylor. Perhaps you should go up to the hospital and demand to see one of the doctors there, what with you doubtful about making it to Christmas. Still, that’s six months yet,’ she added cheerfully.

  Ada was at a loss how to take this suggestion so she decided to move the conversation on from her health.

  ‘So you and Billy have grown closer, you say?’ she asked.

  ‘Mmm. He’s a grand lad.’

  ‘And you’re a lovely lass. You know, Geraldine, I always dreamed of having a daughter-in-law like you, someone right pretty and knows how to dress herself well. Any man would be proud to have you on his arm.’

  ‘Well, thank you, Mrs Taylor.’

  ‘And I reckon, with all them brothers of yours, that you know how to do things properly around the house. I’m sure you’d fit in well here, love. I’d leave you a free hand at the chores and I’ve never been one for eating fancy food – just plain cooking – so there’d not be owt complicated for you to learn.’

  ‘Now, I best be getting back to the shop.’ Geraldine got up, cutting Ada off. ‘I’ll let myself out and give Billy the key when I see him.’ And his letters, you miserable old woman. ‘I’m sure you’ll be feeling better soon.’

  She went downstairs, leaving the window in Ada’s room wide open, rinsed out her cup and the teapot, and called a cheerful goodbye up the stairs.

  Out in the street she vowed to deliver the letters to Billy at the soonest opportunity. It might be awkward to explain how she’d come by them but she could work round that. It was Ada’s conscience that should be worried, not her own.

  ‘It’s so beautiful here,’ breathed Evie, walking slowly along the track around the fields at the back of Clackett’s market garden.

  ‘Bliss,’ smiled Letty, stopping to raise her face to the sun.

  ‘It’s good of Grandma to give me a bit of time off. Two women arrived with babies in prams, wanting little frocks made for them, so as Grandma likes to do the baby clothes I was pleased to leave her to it. The workroom was beginning to feel a bit crowded. The babies were good as gold but the mothers always fuss something terrible.’

  They sank down onto some soft grass and Evie idly started a daisy chain.

  ‘I didn’t really notice how peaceful and nice it was last summer, what with us only just arriving here and everything to sort out,’ Evie went on. ‘Pete and Bob liked the other side of the road, the path that leads to the woods. I don’t think I shall ever go there again, though.’

  ‘I don’t blame you, Evie. I’d feel the same.’

  Letty looked down shyly. ‘I think I may be a bit in love with Jack. He’s just the kindest man I’ve ever met.’

  ‘He is kind. I don’t know where we’d be without Jack’s help this last year. But I’ve seen the way he is with you, and how you seem … I don’t know … to understand each other without owt being said.’

  ‘Yes, it’s true!’ gasped Letty. ‘That’s exactly how I feel. It’s such a special thing.’

  Evie was delighted. ‘And does Jack feel the same?’

  ‘I think so. He’s taken to coming round to Lavender Cottage more often, and Aunt Margaret was asking me only the other day if we had any special feelings for each other.’

  ‘And she wouldn’t mind if you fell completely in love with Jack, and he with you, would she?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. Even though he’s more her age than mine, and has all sorts of odd and part-time jobs running together, I don’t think she’d care in the least if I was happy.’

  ‘She is lovely, your aunt, and Jack’s lovely, too.’

  ‘And so am I, and so are you!’ Letty giggled. ‘We’re the loveliest people in the entire world.’

  ‘What are
you two giggling about?’ asked Peter, coming up the path unseen.

  ‘Ah, here’s lovely Peter,’ said Evie, and she and Letty roared with laughter.

  ‘Idiots,’ he muttered affectionately.

  ‘Just girls’ talk. You wouldn’t understand, Pete,’ said Evie.

  ‘I came with a message from Grandma,’ said Peter, sinking down on the grass next to them. ‘You know, I blame Dad for everything – us having to leave Shenty Street and all our friends, and then about … about Bob, and then Mum going, and then losing his job, and making it so that poor Grandma and you had to work every hour to make enough money, Evie, but now I can see that Mum leaving was the best thing for her. We all want her to be happy, don’t we? I went round yesterday after school and Mum and Frederick are so very happy. It’s strange, but I can feel it the moment I go in the house.’

  ‘I’ve felt that, too,’ said Evie. ‘Of course I miss her, but you’re not here any more and I’m working so hard with Grandma that I feel now we can let Mum go and be glad for her. That’s something else I thought would be awful but turned out right. Mum deserves to have a nice life after looking after all of us and everything she put up with in Shenty Street.’

  ‘Dad, you mean?’

  ‘Well, yes. But he’s doing all right with his job at the shoe factory – that is, he goes to it every day and stays there until it’s time to come home, and I expect he does some work in between. He’s bought himself a bicycle to save the bus fare to Redmond and then the walk to the factory. He doesn’t say much about the job, but at least he doesn’t moan like he did about Mr Clackett.’

  Letty chipped in. ‘He’s being a huge help to Aunt Margaret. She was saying only last weekend how pleased she is to have your father to help her keep it tidy.’

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ said Peter. ‘Mebbe he’s found a job he can manage not to mess up. Anyway, this message from Grandma: could you pop round to see Mr Harris, please? He hasn’t got something you ordered but he’s got something else instead. I expect it will make sense when you speak to him.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound very urgent,’ said Evie.

  ‘It is if you want to catch him this afternoon. It’s getting on for five o’clock.’

  ‘Oh, no, I’ve lost all track of time. I’d better hurry. Bye, Letty. Bye, Pete. See you soon.’ She rushed away down the track.

  ‘There she goes, all in a flutter, expecting the worst,’ laughed Peter. ‘Will she ever learn?’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so unkind, Pete. It’s worrying about getting things right that makes her such a good seamstress. If she didn’t care about the details she’d be hopeless.’

  ‘You’re right, of course, and I didn’t mean to criticise. I only wish … I don’t know.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I just want Evie to be happy. She holds the weight of our family on her shoulders.’

  ‘Well, who knows what’s round the corner?’

  ‘True. Even Billy let her down. I know she was disappointed when Billy didn’t reply to her letters, especially when she told him about Bob. Whatever their differences, the way Billy treated her then was bad. But she’s over it – and over him – now, I think.’

  ‘She never mentions him, that’s for certain.’

  ‘So it would be nice if she were to find someone who suited her so well that she’d never have to worry again.’

  ‘Why, Peter Carter, you old romantic! I’d never guess you’re only a schoolboy. Perhaps Evie has found someone who suits her,’ suggested Letty with a naughty glint in her eye.

  ‘Who are you thinking of?’

  ‘This Mr Harris, of course. Oh, but imagine if she were to marry him. She’d have all the fabrics in his vast shop to choose from and she’d never have to negotiate a discount again!’

  Peter couldn’t help laughing at the idea. ‘Let’s hope Evie’s luck is about to change,’ he said.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Billy sat on his bed and read the two letters Evie had sent him way back at the end of last year. Geraldine Sullivan had said they’d fallen out of the sideboard when she was fetching a packet of tea for his mum, and she thought Billy had maybe put them down and forgotten about them and Ada had tidied them away by mistake. Well, full marks for invention to Gerry, and she was sticking to her story even if it didn’t hold much water.

  The first letter was a simple and heartfelt apology for Evie’s part in the argument at Geraldine’s party. When he’d read the letter, Billy thought back to that evening when he’d last seen Evie and the stupid argument that had divided them. He tried to remember who had said what but, in the way of most arguments, the subtlety of both sides’ words had become lost in time. He did remember their differences had turned on something Evie said about not wanting to live with his mother, and now he wholeheartedly agreed. How could he have thought anyone would want to live with such a woman? He didn’t! Oh, he’d always known she was selfish, but this …

  Then he read the other letter and was surprised to find tears in his eyes at the account of Robert’s death. The page was smudged in places and Billy thought that Evie had also shed tears as she wrote it. It was such a brave letter, and included in the envelope was a pretty Christmas card with glitter and a robin on the front, wishing both Billy and his mother a merry Christmas. At the sight of that Billy could contain his misery no longer and he gave himself up to weeping for that lovely girl and her dead little brother.

  Eventually he pulled himself together. What must she have thought of him when he hadn’t written back?

  There was a tap at the door and Ada, who seemed to have rallied since Gerry’s visit, called, ‘Billy, love, your tea will be ready in ten minutes.’

  Billy considered not answering her, but he didn’t want her to know anything about his having the letters yet. He’d decide how to play this in his own time.

  ‘Thank you, Mum,’ he called back with little enthusiasm for the prospect of having her company over his evening meal.

  C’mon, Billy, think! What’s should we do about this?

  Was there anything to do about it? All kinds of things could have happened in six months. Maybe the Carters weren’t even living in Church Sandleton any longer. Perhaps when Robert died they couldn’t face it there and had moved on. After all, there had been nothing to take them to the village in the first place except a need to escape Shenty Street, and it was just somewhere that a cousin of Brendan Sullivan’s knew about.

  Even if they were still there, Evie’s circumstances could have changed dramatically. She was six months older – seventeen, now – and she might well have a new boyfriend. A boyfriend who lived nearby and was able to see her all the time. A boyfriend who didn’t argue with her and who hadn’t got a spiteful mother.

  Dear God, how had he even imagined Evie would ever want to come to live with his mother? The idea was ridiculous! Her arguing, far from being the thoughtless response of a young girl, now appeared nothing more than common sense. It was he who had been stupid, not Evie.

  But then maybe Evie hadn’t got a boyfriend at all – maybe she’d got a husband! The thought, though unlikely in so short a time, was terrible, but Billy couldn’t help niggling at it like a bad tooth. Soon his imagination was running riot. If Evie was married – very happily married – and lived in her own house, not at Pendle’s, then if he wrote to her, Jeanie would be quite justified in withholding the letter from her. What newlywed would want a letter from an old boyfriend forwarded to her blissful new life?

  All through that awkward evening meal Billy’s mind churned with various imaginings, some bizarre and others credible, until he no longer knew what was plausible, or what to do about it.

  He went back up to his room as soon as he could escape Ada, and then to bed, but he couldn’t sleep with his thoughts in turmoil.

  The next morning he got up even earlier than usual for work and went off while Ada was still asleep, leaving her a note to say he was going out that evening and she was not to cook him any tea or wait up.


  After work he went down to the Lord Nelson for a pie and a pint, and the hope of catching Brendan Sullivan. Billy’s friends at the postal depot were good fun but he drew the line at confiding this whole sorry story to any of them for their advice.

  ‘All right, Billy, lad?’ asked Brendan, coming in and seeing him looking miserable and nursing his pint by himself.

  ‘Ah, Brendan.’ Billy brightened. It was Brendan who had masterminded the Carters’ flit from Shenty Street, and a good job he’d made of it. Plus, he was the father of two daughters around Evie’s age, and possibly he even had sisters of his own. Brendan was the best man to help him sort out this mess, no question.

  ‘What are you having? This one’s on me, Brendan, and if you’ve got the time, I could really do with some advice,’ said Billy.

  Brendan agreed. He sat down with Billy and listened to the tale of woe, from the argument at the party last November to the letters Billy had been handed only yesterday by Brendan’s own daughter.

  ‘Gerry meant it for the best when she gave me the letters,’ Billy finished. ‘I might have found them myself one day and, as it is, they’re six months old, but at least they’ve not been hidden from me for years. I’m only hoping it may not be too late to do summat about being reunited with Evie.’

  Brendan had to smile at Gerry’s part in the tale. She was a bold girl who didn’t put up with any nonsense, and Ada Taylor was a bigger fool than she’d yet shown herself to be if she thought she’d have had an easy time of it had Gerry and Billy married. As it was, Gerry was seriously involved with Colin Fraser, who suited her in every way.

  ‘Well, lad, I’m fairly certain that young Evie Carter isn’t married, at least,’ Brendan said. ‘Sure, Marie and Mary would not have let that golden nugget of news escape circulation. I also know that most of the family still live in Church Sandleton, or they did when my womenfolk last heard from them, which I think must have been Easter. Just a card and a brief letter with good wishes. It’s hard to keep in touch at such a long distance as the time goes by, but I know Sue Goodwin, bless her, would have tried to let us know if they’d moved away or something big had happened in the meantime … as she did when that poor lad of theirs died, and when Jeanie left home.’