Her sigh was weary. How she wished she could get another job …
‘Jen!’
The call from Ma had her rushing to the stairs. The old woman was balancing precariously on the top stair. ‘Come and give us a hand getting down these bleeding stairs.’
It was a slow and painful trip down, but eventually Ma was sitting at the kitchen table, muttering irritably under her breath.
‘Why don’t you let me make you a bed downstairs? Jenny suggested.
‘Not bloody likely! That’s the end of the line, girl. I’ve always gone upstairs to bed and I ain’t gonna change that now,’ she snapped.
After the night Jenny had just had, she was in no mood to put up with Ma’s sharp tongue, but rather than start an argument she turned away to put the kettle on the stove. ‘I’ve got some of that nice home-made bread left. Would you like some?’ she asked mildly. ‘I’ll cut off the crusts and soak them in a little milk, shall I?’
‘That’d be nice.’ Ma spoke softly. ‘Turn round, Jen.’
She did so and suffered the scrutiny of those sharp eyes.
‘Sorry I’m such a grump, ducky, but I gets frustrated not being able to do for myself. You look as if you’ve had a bad night. What’s happened?’
‘Ted Roper died of a heart attack at four o’clock this morning. Me and Glad have been there all night.’
‘Ah, I’m right sad about that.’ Ma shook her head. ‘He was a good man. It’s gonna be hard for Agnes and young Jimmy now.’
Jenny snorted in disgust. ‘Even harder than the last couple of years!’ She cut the crusts off two slices of bread and dunked them in a dish of milk to soften, then spread some of cook’s jam on the bread. She put the dish and plate in front of Ma, and poured her a cup of tea as well.
Ma sat staring at the plates, then lifted her head and glared at Jenny. ‘And where’s yours?’
‘Oh, I’m not hungry.’
‘Listen, my girl, if you think I’m going to eat while you sit there with an empty belly, then you’re very much mistaken! You’ll bloody well eat something!’
That was too much for Jenny’s troubled heart and she erupted. ‘Don’t you swear at me! I’m doing the best I can. People are dying around me and I can’t do a thing about it. I’ll have to go and beg to be allowed to scrub some of the fine houses’ steps. I’m just a burden on you and everyone else around here. I don’t know what else to do, Ma …’
‘There, there, ducky, don’t take on so.’ Ma struggled to her feet, putting an arm around Jenny’s shoulders. ‘You ain’t a burden to me or anyone else. I couldn’t manage without you. You’re doing just fine and I’m right proud of you.’ Ma kissed the top of her head. ‘Dry your tears, have a slice of my bread, and go and have a nice kip. You’ll feel better then.’
‘You’re right.’ Jenny took a slice of bread from Ma’s plate and munched in silence. As she swallowed the last mouthful, she gave a watery smile.
‘That’s better. Now off you go. I’ll clear the table.’
Without another word, Jenny dragged herself upstairs, feeling totally exhausted, mentally and physically.
20
Three hours of sound sleep had helped to ease the tension of Ted Roper’s death. But Jenny still hurt inside. It felt as if she were bruised right through. Up until the last two years she had led a sheltered and privileged life; now she was among the harsh realities of the working classes. This was a tough way to learn about real life, though it was a lesson worth learning. She had changed so much, and quite honestly she liked Jenny Baker much more than Eugenie Winford. Eugenie had been a frightened child; Jenny was a mature, strong woman, and gaining in wisdom all the time. She could now see life from both sides of the coin, and her love and respect for all those who lived from day to day in the poorest conditions was enormous.
When she walked into the kitchen, Ma had a pot of tea already made.
‘I heard you moving around and thought you’d like a cuppa.’ Ma eyed her perceptively. ‘Good, you’re feeling better.’
‘Much, thank you, Ma.’ Jenny smiled as Ma poured tea for them both. She was touched by this gesture, for she knew how difficult it was for Ma to do anything now. ‘I’ll just drink this and then do some shopping.’
‘How much money we got left, ducky?’
Jenny took the old Oxo tin from the shelf and opened it. ‘Three shillings and tuppence. We’ll manage fine on that.’
Ma nodded in approval. ‘You’ve become a real good shopper, Jen.’
‘I give the shopkeepers a bright smile and sometimes they slip in something extra.’ Jenny laughed at how crafty she was becoming.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Ma cackled. ‘You’re turning into a real beauty. A bit skinny, but a lovely girl none the less.’
‘My goodness, Ma, first I have tea made for me and now compliments.’ Jenny mopped her brow in mock amazement.
They were both laughing when there was a knock on the front door.
‘Come in!’ Ma called. Nothing happened.
‘Give me a hand to the front room.’ Ma got unsteadily to her feet.
Once she was settled in her armchair, the knock came again. ‘Better see who that is, Jen. If it’s a hawker, then he’s wasting his time in this street. No one here’s got money to spend on anything but rent and grub.’
Jenny opened the door and the man standing outside came as a shock. Matthew Stannard must be around twenty now, she guessed, and looking every inch the fine man, even in his overalls smeared with grease.
‘Hello, Jenny.’ He smiled in a friendly manner. ‘My mother asked me to call.’
‘Come in, young man,’ Ma called, craning her neck to get a good look at him.
He stepped inside. ‘Thank you, madam.’
She waved a hand dismissively. ‘My name’s Ma.’
He held out the parcel he’d had tucked under his arm. ‘Cook’s sent you a few things, Ma.’
‘Ah, that’s right kind of her. Give it to Jen. The other food she sent us was a real treat. We shared it with the neighbours. It was much enjoyed, young man.’
‘The name’s Matt.’ He stood in the middle of the room, so tall and broad he seemed to dominate the small space.
Ma was scrutinizing him through narrowed eyes, then, as if satisfied, she grinned. ‘Sit down, Matt, you’re blocking out the light.’
He did as ordered, watching Jenny as she took the food to the kitchen.
She soon returned with a broad smile on her face. ‘There’s another meat pie there, Ma. I think we ought to give Agnes and Jimmy some for their dinner, don’t you?’
‘I do. A good meal is just what they need today.’
‘I’ll take it there in a minute.’ Jenny sat next to Ma and looked at Matthew. She was expecting him to say that his mother couldn’t help with the centre, but that wouldn’t be a surprise; even asking her had been a terrible cheek. Still, she thought cynically, Mrs Stannard had sent the most attractive of her sons to break the news.
As if reading her thoughts, he raised an eyebrow quizzically, then said, ‘My mother has gathered together some of the best charity workers around, and they believe they can set up something in this area.’
‘Who’s going to pay for it?’ Ma wanted to know.
‘They’ve already got the backing of two charities who deal with the underprivileged, and they’re fairly sure they can get help from the social services.’
‘’Bout time they bloody well got their fingers out.’ Ma folded her arms and glared at Matt. ‘My poor Jenny’s running herself ragged trying to help, but they won’t listen to the likes of us. Don’t say nothing to no one around here until your mother’s sure she can do this. We don’t want folks getting their hopes up for nothing.’
‘My mother is a very determined woman, Ma. She’ll get some kind of help for this area.’
‘We’ll see.’ Ma still didn’t appear convinced. ‘The people round here don’t really want charity. What they want is jobs. Can you do anything about that?’
‘I’m afraid not, Ma.’ He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘We’re having enough trouble trying to keep the garage in business.’
‘Own it, do you?’
‘No, I’m just an apprentice there.’ Matt leant forward, his expression animated. ‘There’s going to be a good future in cars, but we’ve got to survive the depression first.’
‘Hmm.’ Ma pointed to a patch of grease on his overalls. ‘Like working with dirty engines, do you?’
Matt grinned and sat back. ‘I love it. Now, about this centre. My mother wants to know if there’s a suitable hall around here.’
Just then Glad looked in the door and Ma waved her to come in. Matt scrambled to his feet.
‘This is Matt, and he’s looking for a hall around here,’ Ma told Glad.
‘Must have a kitchen of some sort.’ Matt continued to stand politely.
‘Well.’ Glad thought for a moment. ‘There’s the old community hall in Greenwood Street. Hasn’t been used for years, though, so don’t know what state it’s in. But if I remember rightly it did have a kitchen and some privies.’
‘Could someone show me where it is?’ Matt asked. ‘If it’s any good, I can tell my mother this evening and her committee will have a look at it.’
‘I’ll take you now if you like. I’ve got to go that way.’ Then Glad glanced at Ma and Jenny. ‘I’ve made all the arrangements for Ted’s funeral. It’ll be at St John’s Church on Friday at ten thirty. And no one’s to waste money on flowers. Agnes said Ted wouldn’t like that.’
Glad was already heading for the door, so Matt said a hasty goodbye and strode after her.
‘Well, well,’ Ma murmured when they’d gone. ‘Real polite, ain’t he? And not stuck up. Been brung up proper, he has.’
Jenny giggled. ‘Been brung up proper?’
‘Oh, you and your posh talk,’ Ma teased, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling at Jenny’s amused expression. ‘I’ve talked this way all my life and you ain’t changing me now.’
‘I wouldn’t want to, Ma,’ Jenny said softly. ‘You’re just lovely the way you are.’
‘’Course I am.’ She chortled. ‘Awkward and bloody minded, what more could you ask for? Now go and give Agnes and Jimmy some of that pie, and we’ll have a little bit for our dinner, eh?’
Walking up the road with Glad, Matt was still reeling from the shock of seeing how much Jenny had changed. She had been a robust, if timid, young girl, now she was taller, too thin and obviously very tired. But one thing was abundantly clear: she now had a maturity and confidence that had not been there before.
Matt’s heart contracted with pain. She’d had to grow up quickly to survive, he guessed. Dear God, what a way to do it.
‘You’re very quiet, young man.’
Glad’s voice brought him back to the here and now. ‘Sorry, I was thinking.’ Matt glanced at the woman beside him. ‘How did you come to know Jenny?’
She then told him about the visit to the pawnbroker’s, and how she and Fred had been impressed with her courage. ‘We told her to come to us if she was in need, and that’s what she did when your family threw her out. Poor little devil!’
‘We’re all very sorry about that,’ Matt told her. ‘My father makes rash decisions at times, and no amount of arguing can change his mind. He’s not an unkind man, though. He regrets it now.’
‘So he should!’ Glad spoke angrily. ‘Everyone here loves her, and though she doesn’t show it much, Ma adores her. Looks on her as a daughter, she does.’
‘Jenny’s lucky to have found you –’
Glad stopped suddenly and turned to face Matt. ‘You’ve got that wrong, young man. We’re the lucky ones, and if anyone in this world tries to hurt her again they’ll have us to deal with.’
‘I believe you.’ Matt fell into step beside her as she began to walk up the street again. ‘Is that why you all denied knowing her when I came round with my brother Luke?’
‘Of course. Now, the hall is just around the next corner. Do you think your mother can do something for the people here?’
Matt saw a group of dejected men standing outside a factory gate in the hope of getting work, and gritted his teeth in anger. These poor buggers shouldn’t have to beg like this. But what choice did they have? They probably all had families to feed. The gulf between them and the way he lived hit him with such force at that moment that it made him gasp out loud.
Glad gave him a knowing look. ‘Not a pleasant sight, is it? You ought to go and see the dole queues, and perhaps stand in line with them for a couple of days, and you might begin to understand the desperation they feel. And you haven’t answered my question. Will your mother and her friends be able to help?’
‘Yes!’ The word hissed out from between his clenched teeth.
‘Well, here we are, then.’ Glad pushed the door, and, as the lock was broken, it swung open.
It was in a dreadful state, but at first glance the place appeared to be structurally sound. It was large and had a good-sized kitchen with two gas stoves that looked as if they might be all right after a good clean. Matt turned the tap over the sink, and, after a lot of clanging and shuddering, rusty-coloured water poured out. He left it running and it eventually cleared.
‘What do you think?’ Glad was peering in one of the ovens, and then turned a gas tap. ‘Gas has been cut off, so’s the electricity.’
‘We’ll have to get them connected again, but it might do.’ Matt shoved his hands in his pockets and spun round on the balls of his feet. ‘My mother and her committee will have to look it over first.’
‘Right. I’ll leave that to you.’ Glad was heading for the door. ‘You let me know what’s decided. You knows where we live.’ Then she was gone.
Matt returned to the garage, very subdued. He’d been pleased with his effort to save Jake’s business, but this was only a very tiny part of what was happening all over the country. He read the papers, of course, but today was the first time he’d really been in amongst the suffering. Mayfair was not exactly a deprived area!
They were busy that afternoon and sold two cars, but even this failed to lift his spirits. He could see those men outside the factory, feel their hopelessness, and, even worse, Jenny’s pinched, tired face kept swimming before his eyes. He felt so angry about everything.
Fortunately Matt calmed down in time for dinner that evening. He explained about the hall and wrote down the address for his mother.
‘Sounds like it needs a lot of work before it’s fit for use,’ his father said. ‘You’d better employ a couple of local men to help, Louise.’
‘You won’t have any trouble getting workers,’ Matt said. ‘Once word gets round, you’ll have them queuing ten deep.’
‘I expect we shall, Matt.’ His mother gazed at the succulent meal in front of her as if it were an offence. ‘How was Jenny?’
‘Exhausted, by the look of her. She and a neighbour by the name of Glad had been up all night. The man next door died, evidently.’
His mother’s knife and fork clattered on to the plate. ‘I’ve quite lost my appetite.’
A trickle of rain plopped from the brim of Jenny’s hat and ran down her nose. The heavy drizzle was the kind that soaked you right through, and it couldn’t be a worse day for Ted Roper’s funeral. She watched the coffin being lowered into the muddy hole in the ground. It was a bleak, sad occasion, as Agnes stood white-faced with lips clenched together, and young Jimmy sobbed quietly by her side.
Jenny could feel the damp seeping through the worn soles of her shoes, far too thin to keep out the wet. The whole of the street had turned out for Ted, and, as she glanced around at each one, Jenny saw that they all had the same pinched look. The women were showing the strain perhaps more than the men, as it was on them the burden rested most heavily. Not that the men didn’t care; they tried every day to get work – any work.
She watched Jimmy place a little bunch of daisies at the foot of the grave, and, stepping back, he
gave Jenny a fleeting smile of thanks. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought of no flowers at all and had spent a precious tuppence on the simple bouquet of daisies. They gleamed yellow and white on the muddy ground, and seemed to welcome the rain on their dry stalks, the water running like gleaming tears over their bright petals.
The vicar rushed through a prayer, obviously as wet and uncomfortable as the rest of them, but Jenny glared at him. That wasn’t right. Ted Roper had been an honest, hard-working man and deserved respect, especially on this day. It was as if her thoughts got through, because the man suddenly slowed to a more dignified pace and began to read from the Bible with a little more feeling.
Then it was over and they filed silently out of the churchyard, to the sound of the thud, thud of earth as the gravediggers filled in the hole.
The men wandered off to wait for the Red Lion to open, so they could raise a glass to Ted’s life. No one tried to stop them, and they took young Jimmy with them, at fifteen now the man of the house. Jenny had slipped Jimmy another couple of shillings to buy the men a drink. He wasn’t old enough to go in the pub, but she doubted anyone would object today.
She fingered the pendant around her neck and wondered how much longer she was going to be able to keep it.
The pawnbroker’s was crowded the next day, as expected. These were the busiest shops around. Women were popping bedding, clothes, saucepans, in fact any kind of household goods. One woman told Jenny ruefully that a saucepan wasn’t no good if you had bugger all to put in it.
Jenny waited patiently in line and saw the man in front of her hand over a nice pocket watch, telling Uncle that it had belonged to his father. When the man had the money and turned to walk past her, she saw tears in his eyes. He must have known that the chance of redeeming the watch was very slim.
‘And what ’ave you brought me?’ The pawnbroker reached for the package she was holding out. She had decided to pawn the lace and beaded dress. It didn’t fit now, and she wanted to hang on to the pendant for as long as possible. All the time she had that she felt a little more secure, knowing that it would bring in money when desperately needed. Things were bad and going to get worse – except for the pawnbrokers, who were doing very well for themselves. This one was so happy he was almost smiling!
A Change of Fortune Page 19