A Change of Fortune

by Beryl Matthews

  As Jenny took the paper from Glad, she raised her eyebrows. ‘And she thinks she’s no longer mistress of her own house?’

  Glad winked and left with a huge smile on her face, obviously as relieved as Jenny to see and hear Ma back to her old self.

  When the tea was made, Jenny sat opposite Ma and began to read the news out loud. A lot of the reports were about unemployment, quoting a figure of around two million and rising, with no prospect of economic recovery in sight. It was a depressing subject, and she moved on to the more light-hearted stories, stopping at a picture of a tall building.

  ‘What’s that?’ Ma craned to see the paper.

  ‘It’s called the Empire State Building in New York.’ Jenny read, ‘The concrete and glass building has 102 floors and stands at a height of 1,250 feet. It’s going to be officially opened on the first of May.’

  ‘Never!’ Ma exclaimed in disbelief. ‘How can they build something that tall? It’ll fall down!’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t.’ Jenny tried to picture what it would be like inside. ‘It’s called a skyscraper.’

  ‘You wouldn’t get me in it. It can’t be safe!’

  ‘I’d love to see it and go right to the top. I bet the views would be wonderful.’

  ‘Of course you would be interested. I keep forgetting that you’re half American.’ The corners of Ma’s mouth twitched. ‘Though with that posh English accent it’s not surprising I didn’t remember.’

  Jenny nodded silently as memories of her father came flooding back.

  Ma reached across and took Jenny’s hand in her own, obviously sensing her troubled thoughts. ‘Your Pa didn’t need to kill himself and leave a lovely daughter like you to fend for herself. We ain’t got nothing, but we manage, and he’d have recovered in time. Wonder why he did it.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She held Ma’s hand carefully so as not to hurt her. The rheumatism had got worse over the last few months. ‘The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. I’m sure he wouldn’t have abandoned his children.’

  ‘Children?’ Ma looked up sharply. ‘You got brothers and sisters?’

  ‘Two half-brothers in America, my mother told me.’

  ‘Ah, married before, was he?’

  ‘No.’ Jenny shifted uncomfortably. ‘They must be illegitimate, because from what my mother told me I think they were born after me. My mother and father weren’t happy …’

  ‘So he had a mistress in America. Don’t look so ashamed, Jen, I’ve seen plenty of life and knows what goes on.’ Ma’s face took on a thoughtful expression. ‘If he had two families, then it don’t make sense he would leave you all.’

  ‘I agree, but that’s what happened. When my aunt said she wouldn’t take me in, I asked my mother if I could go to my father’s family in New York, but she said they wouldn’t want me either.’ Jenny dipped her head to hide the pain in her eyes. That still hurt so much.

  ‘There, there,’ Ma soothed, ‘don’t you upset yourself, duck. Things have a habit of working out right in the end. You never know, you might meet them one day, and even go to the top of that awful building. And we want and love you.’

  Gratitude filled Jenny’s heart. She was loved here, and that was why she wouldn’t leave until Ma no longer needed her.

  She was about to put the paper down when a notice caught her attention, making her gasp in surprise. It was an announcement of a wedding.

  ‘What is it?’ Ma asked.

  ‘My mother’s getting married again in two weeks’ time.’

  ‘Who to?’

  ‘Someone called Gordon Frasier.’ Jenny looked up excitedly. ‘Isn’t that the man who owns a chain of gentlemen’s outfitters?’

  Ma nodded. ‘I’ve heard of him. Well, if it is him, then your mum’s doing very nicely for herself. Got pots of money, I’ve been told.’

  ‘Money has always been important to my mother. The wedding is taking place at St George’s Church, quite close to where we used to live.’

  ‘Why don’t you go and see her?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Jenny chewed her lip in concentration. ‘But I’ll go and take a peek at the wedding, from a safe distance, of course. I’ll send them a congratulations card anyway. I wonder what my new stepfather will be like.’

  ‘If it’s the man I’m thinking of, he’s getting on a bit.’ Ma gave Jenny a crafty wink. ‘But your mother might have time enough to work on him and make him leave her all his money, before he pops off.’

  Jenny giggled. ‘You are wicked, Ma.’

  The old lady cackled. ‘From what you’ve told me about her, that’s probably what she’s hoping for.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jenny agreed, fully aware of her mother’s love of position and wealth. ‘I expect that would suit her very nicely.’

  17

  ‘We’ll manage.’ Jenny slipped her arm around Ivy’s shoulder, alarmed by how white she had gone. Only a week ago things had seemed so much better, what with Ma recovering and everyone else back to health. Spring was here and the struggle to keep the sick and young warm was over. But Jenny was beginning to believe that the coin spinning in her life had two tails, as everything had crashed around them again. ‘Ron’s still got his job as a conductor.’

  ‘But he hasn’t.’ Ivy looked near to tears, and it took a lot to drag these resilient people down. ‘He was laid off yesterday. I can’t afford to be out of work, Jen. How am I going to feed my kids?’

  Jenny hooked her hand through Ivy’s arm as they walked back home. They’d turned up for work this morning only to be told that they weren’t wanted any longer. It was something they’d been praying wouldn’t happen. She felt as if there were a heavy weight in her stomach, but Ivy must be worried sick. ‘What about the dole? Ron will get that, surely?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Ivy snorted in disgust. ‘He’ll get around one pound, five shillings and threepence, and that won’t go far with two children. And there’s nothing for us women.’

  ‘Mrs Pritchard from No. 30 gets free milk for her children, doesn’t she?’

  Ivy nodded miserably.

  ‘Can’t you try, for that?’ Jenny was trying to sound positive, but it was hard. Without work, how were any of them going to manage?

  ‘I’ll talk to Mum about it, but it’s an unpleasant business applying for assistance. You get some busybody from the welfare poking their nose into everything you’ve got.’ Ivy was shaking with worry now.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jenny didn’t know anything about things like this.

  ‘When you ask for help, you get caught up in what’s called the means test Everyone hates it. We might be poor but we do have some pride, Jen. This person counts every penny you’ve got coming in and looks to see if you have anything of value you can pawn. If someone is kind enough to give you a gift of food or coal, the bastards take that off the money they pay you.’

  Jenny was appalled.

  ‘They’re prying all the time to see you don’t get something for nothing. Mrs Gerrard at No. 22 was told to pawn her blankets. And that was in the middle of winter!’ Ivy’s laugh was humourless. ‘Mrs Gerrard’s a big woman and she threw the louse out, telling him to bugger off, she’d manage without his rotten help.’

  They continued walking in silence. Although it was only seven in the morning, the queue outside the employment exchange was already long. Some men looked as if they’d been there all night in the hope of being first in line for any job that might be going that day.

  The two girls stopped and stared. The look of hopelessness etched on the men’s faces tore the heart out of Jenny. How could this happen? The Wall Street crash had been in America and nobody here had thought it could have anything to do with them, but they had been wrong. World trade had slumped, and jobs had been lost at an alarming rate. Jenny had learnt as much as she could about it, watching the depression take hold, not only in Britain but overseas as well. This country now had unemployed of around two million, but America was much worse. There were around eight million over there
without work, but it was a much bigger country, of course. However, that didn’t mean much to those who were destitute.

  ‘Look at that!’ Ivy whispered in despair. ‘What chance do those poor devils stand? What chance do any of us stand?’

  As Jenny’s gaze swept along the line of dejected figures, she gulped back the tears threatening to spill over. Why wasn’t the government doing more for the working classes? Suddenly anger raged through her, with an intensity she had never before experienced. At that moment she realized that she was no longer a frightened child. She had grown up.

  ‘Come on, Ivy.’ She started to march up the road, dragging Glad’s daughter with her. ‘We might be out of work, but we ain’t down yet! There must be something we can do, and I’m bloody well going to find it.’

  ‘Oh, Jen,’ Ivy’s spluttered laugh was genuine. ‘You sounded just like one of us then.’

  Jenny stopped, turned to Ivy and lifted her head proudly. ‘I am one of you. When my father died, I made a choice to become a servant rather than live a miserable life with a man I hated. I’ve worked my hands raw to survive, and by God I’ve done it! No more self-pity, no more yearning for the past, no more fear. That’s all gone. Now I’m going to roll up my sleeves and fight for us and everyone living on the breadline.’

  Ivy threw her arms around Jenny and grinned. ‘My mum and dad said you was special. They were right. But what are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know yet, but I feel like shaking some of those complacent politicians until their teeth rattle.’

  ‘Go get ’em, girl!’ Ivy slapped her on the back. ‘Pity Ma ain’t younger, ’cos she’d be right there with you.’

  Despite the worry about losing their jobs, both girls were laughing as they turned into Forest Road.

  Once outside Ma’s house Jenny stopped and hugged Ivy. ‘Try not to worry too much. We’ll see your little ones have enough to eat.’

  ‘’Course we will.’ Ivy’s nod was confident, then she became serious again. ‘Things are going to get hard around here, Jen. Couldn’t you go home?’

  ‘I am home!’ Jenny replied in a firm voice.

  ‘Well, in that case,’ Ivy said, looking at Jenny with respect, ‘we’ll make you an honorary cockney.’

  Jenny curtsied gracefully. ‘I’m touched, ma’am.’

  ‘You must be,’ Ivy chortled, ‘to want to stay here while there’s a depression, for God knows how long it’s going to last. Now I’d better go and break the bad news to my hubby and Mum.’

  They parted with another hug, trying to make light of their desperate situation. When Jenny stepped inside Ma’s front room, she found the elderly woman staring at her from her armchair.

  ‘You’re back early. What’s happened?’ she demanded testily.

  Ma was fully dressed and Jenny was concerned because Ma wasn’t back to full health yet and needed a lot of help in the mornings. ‘Did you get up on your own?’

  ‘Yes.’ Ma narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

  ‘You should have waited until I got home,’ Jenny scolded. ‘What do you want for breakfast?’

  ‘I’m not bloody helpless. And you know we’ve only got bread and marge in the cupboard until you do some shopping. So stop beating around the bleeding bush and tell me what’s happened!’

  At that tirade Jenny’s placid nature disintegrated and she rounded on Ma. ‘Don’t you swear at me. If you must know, Ivy and me have lost our bleeding jobs. And you’re lucky to get bread and margarine because in another week you’ll be living on thin air!’

  Much to Jenny’s annoyance, Ma started to chuckle.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You are.’ Ma’s grin spread, her sharp eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Go and put the kettle on, ducky, and we’ll talk while we eat our bread and scrape.’

  When the frugal meal was ready, Jenny took it into the front room. They ate in silence, and it wasn’t until the second cup of tea that Ma spoke.

  ‘I always guessed you had some fire in you, ducky. You ain’t scared of that family of yours no more, are you?’

  ‘No.’ Jenny lifted her head. ‘My so-called family can do what they like. I’ll never go back there, and they won’t be able to force me to do anything I don’t want to now.’

  ‘Bravo!’ Ma slapped her hand on the arm of her chair. ‘Just let them show their faces round here and I’ll give them a piece of my mind. They’ve treated you real bad, and they don’t deserve to have a lovely girl like you. But you’re all grown up now and don’t need them.’

  The thought of Ma laying into her mother and Aunt Gertrude with her colourful vocabulary had Jenny laughing out loud. She had just lost her job, didn’t know how they were going to manage – and she didn’t care! This was more home to her than the Bloomsbury house had ever been. And Ma, Glad, Fred and Ivy were closer to her than her own flesh and blood.

  ‘So.’ Ma held her gaze steadily. ‘Are you Eugenie Winford or Jenny Baker?’

  ‘Jenny Baker,’ she answered without hesitation.

  Ma gave a satisfied smile. ‘Well, Jenny Baker, we’d better decide what’s to be done, hadn’t we?’

  An hour later they were no nearer a solution, and Jenny gazed at Ma in disgust. ‘I’m useless. I can’t sew, can’t knit, don’t know anything about business.’

  ‘You ain’t useless,’ Ma corrected sharply, then her eyes twinkled. ‘You can scrub a fine step.’

  Her gloom disappeared and she grinned at the elderly woman. ‘The best one in the street, but that doesn’t help us to eat. No one round here’s got money to pay me to scrub their steps.’ Jenny’s hand went to the pendant around her neck.

  ‘You can forget that, my girl. That was a present from your dad and you ought to keep it as a reminder of him. We should be all right for a while. I’ve got the rent put by for a couple of weeks, and there’s a few bob in my purse.’

  ‘And I’ve got seven and sixpence.’ Jenny had been saving to go out with Edna when she had a whole day off, but that would have to wait now. She stood up. ‘I’d better get some shopping.’

  ‘Go to Fred and Stan’s stall, Jen. They’re having a tough time. If people can’t buy what they’ve got, then they can’t buy for the next day’s trading. They’ve taken to going late to the Covent Garden Market and buying when the traders reduce their prices to get rid of the stuff. It ain’t the top-quality veg they’re used to selling, but it’s cheap, and that’s what the women want.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know that.’ Jenny was even more worried about her friends now. ‘Ivy didn’t tell me.’

  ‘Ah, well, she wouldn’t. They probably haven’t said much to her, so as not to worry her. Get some suet and flour for dumplings. That’ll fill a corner up.’

  Just then Glad came in. ‘The whole street’s going to get together this evening. Nearly everyone here have lost their jobs, so we’re going to band together and see if we can help each other out.’

  ‘Good idea, Glad.’ Ma nodded approval. ‘Me and Jen’s just been racking our brains as well.’

  ‘Where are you going to meet?’ Jenny asked. ‘I’ll try and get Ma there.’

  ‘We’ve already thought of that. Ma, you can sit in your doorway and we’ll all gather outside here.’

  ‘You mind they don’t trample on my step.’

  ‘I’ll warn them.’ Glad was laughing as she left.

  ‘You and your step. You’re a saucy old devil, do you know that?’ Jenny bent and kissed Ma’s cheek.

  A wicked chuckle was the only answer to that.

  Jenny set off to see how much food she could buy for the least amount of money, feeling ridiculously light-hearted, considering the dire straits they were all in.

  She could hear Fred and Stan hollering their produce at the tops of their voices when she was still quite a distance from them. How anyone understood what they were saying was a complete mystery to Jenny. By the time she stopped in front of them she was giggling. Cockney slang was hard enough, but the costermonger’s langu
age was even worse.

  When Fred saw her, he beckoned her to come behind the stall they were serving from, and Stan, who was dealing with a customer, gave her a cheeky wink.

  ‘Jen, my pet.’ Fred hugged her, then held her away from him so he could look into her face. ‘Ron’s just come and told us you and Ivy have lost your jobs. I’m right sorry. But you’re not to fret. Something will turn up.’

  ‘Of course it will.’ Jenny gave what she hoped was a confident smile as Stan came over. ‘How’s trade today?’

  ‘A bit slow,’ Stan said. ‘But that’s only to be expected. People are counting the pennies now, but we’re getting by.’

  ‘Good.’ Jenny studied the stall, deciding what would be best to buy. ‘I’d like two pounds of King Edwards, please. A couple of carrots and onions …’

  ‘You going to make a stew?’ Fred asked, as he weighed the potatoes.

  ‘Yes, and I’ll put some dumplings in with it. If I make a large pot, then it will do for a couple of days.’

  Fred tipped the vegetables in her basket, and then dived in a box under the stall. ‘I’ve got a swede here. It’s a bit past its best, but will do nicely in a stew.’

  ‘Thanks, Fred.’ Jenny sighed as she looked at the produce. ‘Now, what can I have for greens today?’

  ‘How about a bit of spinach?’ Stan grinned. ‘That’ll build up Ma’s strength.’

  The look Jenny gave him was one of mock horror. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea? Her language is getting terrible again. And she’s told Glad to warn everyone not to mess up her step at the meeting tonight.’

  The men roared. ‘That sounds more like the Ma Adams we all know,’ Fred said, winking at Jenny with affection. ‘I don’t think she’d have lasted this winter without you.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to let her die, because for all her cussed ways I do love her.’ Jenny opened her purse. ‘How much do I owe you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  As Fred turned away, Jenny caught hold of his arm. ‘I won’t take the veg unless you let me pay. I’ve got enough money.’