by June Francis
‘Terrible shock for her, too.’ David looked thoughtful. ‘I must send them both my condolences.’ Absently, he placed the tray on the papers on his desk and picked up his knife and fork.
‘Is there anything else you need?’ asked Patsy.
‘No. See if Mrs Tanner is ready for her meal.’
‘She said that she’d like a gin and tonic.’
‘Did she, indeed?’ he said dryly. ‘Leave it to me.’
Patsy left the study and ran upstairs to knock on Mrs Tanner’s bedroom door to see if she was ready to eat. As she entered the bedroom, Patsy spared a thought for Kathleen, hoping that she had not got lost in Chester but even now was being welcomed into the Bennetts’ home.
Chapter Sixteen
Kathleen paused on Queen’s Park footbridge. Her feet were aching after walking down into the city from the railway station and through the park. She had gazed in shop windows, wishing she had known where Mrs Bennett’s shop was, but she had only been given the address of the house. She liked what she had seen of the city. It was smaller than Liverpool but teeming with life. The people looked prosperous and the shops were filled with all kinds of goods. The ancient cathedral and the town hall were right in the city centre but the river was outside the old city walls. The Dee was very different from the Mersey and easily crossed by bridge. It was prettier, too, with trees bordering its banks and tea rooms and bandstands set a little back from the water’s edge.
She gazed down at the top of a youth’s head. He was rowing a girl in a small boat. Kathleen did not rate the girl’s dress, much too drab. She had read in the Echo that Paris had decided that skirts were to be sixteen inches from the floor and the fashionable cape that was normally a separate fashion item was to be part of a frock from now on.
Kathleen continued on her way to the other side of the bridge and toiled up the path to Victoria Crescent. On reaching the crescent, she glanced at the slip of paper in her hand and then at the house opposite her. She wasted no time in opening the gate and hurrying up the drive.
Hearing children’s voices, she decided to go round the back. There she found Flora hitting a ball with a wooden mallet through a hoop on the lawn. She was wearing a frilled pink blouse and a floral skirt in shades of mauve and blue. It was a pretty ensemble. Her brother, George, was watching her and so were the Moran twins, Allan and Janet.
Flora straightened her back. ‘You do understand what you have to do now, children?’ she asked.
‘Of course, it’s simple,’ said George, swinging his mallet in an arc. It slipped through his fingers and flew through the air, narrowly missing Kathleen.
‘Hey, watch it,’ she said.
They all turned and stared at her.
Flora’s eyes narrowed. ‘So you’ve turned up,’ she said in an unfriendly voice. ‘Mother told me that she had offered you a position. You’re a bit late in coming.’
‘Mrs Bennett did say I could take a few days to think about her offer,’ said Kathleen, bristling slightly. ‘Is Mrs Bennett home?’
‘As it happens she came in an hour ago. Not much going on at the shop due to a number of customers going to London tomorrow. They’re taking part in the Stop the Strikes Crusade.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Kathleen.
Flora raised her eyebrows in a supercilious manner. ‘Where have you been living? There have been strikes happening for ages. The engineers, transport workers and the miners are forever clashing with the owners and the government. I hear now that over in Liverpool there’s been a shortage of meat because the slaughter men at the abattoir are on strike. There’s a fear that the TUC will have the whole country laying down its tools in support of the miners.’
‘I haven’t heard a thing,’ said Kathleen. ‘But that’s what life’s like when you live in an orphanage. But why is someone like you so interested?’
Flora drew herself up to her full height. ‘Because there are more women than men in this country since the war and there’ll come a time when women will need to be involved in how this country is run.’
Kathleen gave her an incredulous stare. ‘Women haven’t got a hope of getting into Parliament. Anyway, what have the miners and the rest of them to do with you, living in this lovely place?’
Flora’s eyes flashed. ‘Whatever class one is, one needs to get involved. The owners want the miners to work longer hours for less pay because during the war they lost sales. Britain used to export coal to Europe but now Poland, Russia and even Germany have taken over those markets. To get them back our mine owners will have to sell their coal for less.’
Kathleen tried to get her head around what Flora had said and murmured, ‘That doesn’t seem fair.’
‘No, it isn’t. As well as that some of our precious seams of coal were used up for the war effort, so we actually have less coal to sell in Britain.’
‘It still doesn’t seem fair that the miners should work longer hours for less pay. It sounds to me as if it’s the rich profiting by making the poor suffer again,’ said Kathleen.
Flora frowned. ‘That might be true but you can’t allow anarchy to rule and tip the country into revolution the way it happened in Russia.’
‘Britain’s not Russia,’ said Kathleen in a voice that suggested she knew all about that far country. ‘We’re much smaller, so easier for the government to keep control. Anyway, I didn’t come here to discuss the state of Britain but to see your mother. Can I go in through the kitchen?’
Flora said impatiently, ‘If you must. You’ll probably find her with my Aunt Hanny. Mother might send you away with a flea in your ear for not responding to her offer sooner.’ Flora turned away and picking up the mallet she whacked a ball through another hoop.
Kathleen headed for the house and knocked on the open kitchen door. ‘Mrs Bennett, are you there?’ she called. ‘It’s Kathy Doyle.’
There was no answer, so she stepped inside. Immediately she became aware of the hum of voices and so followed the sound. She knocked on a door and called, ‘Mrs Bennett, it’s Kathleen Doyle. I’ve come about the job.’
‘Come in.’
Kathleen entered the room and her heart began to hammer. What if she had left it too late? ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Bennett.’ She almost bobbed a curtsey.
Alice’s expression was severe. ‘So you’ve come at last. It’s been almost a week. I feel like saying Well, you’re too late. You can turn on your heels and go back to where you came from. What kept you?’
Kathleen placed her bag on the floor and hastened into speech. ‘I was keeping our Patsy company. I didn’t like leaving her alone when she needed me, worried as she was about the Tanners. Then we heard about the other Mr Bennett. We’re both very fond of Mrs Joy Bennett and it upset us. Anyway, on top of all that Mr Tanner rang to say that he was bringing Mrs Tanner home today, so I knew I could leave Patsy in Mr Tanner’s charge and make myself scarce.’
Alice glanced at Hanny. ‘Should I forgive her?’
Hanny smiled. ‘Of course. At a time when there’s been so much upset in Patsy’s life, it was good for her to have her sister staying with her.’
‘I agree,’ said Alice. ‘But, Kathleen, you should have written to me explaining your reasons for the delay.’
Kathleen said, ‘I’m better with my needle than letter writing.’
Alice raised her eyebrows in much the way her daughter had done earlier when Kathleen had said her piece. ‘I should hope so, seeing as that is the reason you’re here. Now tell us, how is Mrs Tanner?’
‘I didn’t see her, meself,’ replied Kathleen, ‘but Mr Tanner asked our Patsy to take down all the mirrors in the house.’
‘Oh dear!’ exclaimed Alice, biting on her lip.
Kathleen waited for her to speculate on Mrs Tanner’s injuries but Alice changed the subject. ‘I know you have some skill with your embroidery needle, Kathy, but how are you with buttonholes and the simple task of sewing on buttons?’
‘They were part of the course that they taught us girls
at the orphanage. I can also do crochet work and knit.’
Alice’s green eyes brightened. ‘I do so love crochet but it’s a skill I’ve never acquired. Now, what about the sewing machine?’
Kathleen stuck her tongue in her cheek and ran it round her mouth and then she said firmly, ‘I can learn.’
Hanny laughed. ‘You’ve a willing horse here, Alice.’
‘Just what I want,’ said Alice, smiling. ‘You’re hired, Kathleen Doyle. I’d appreciate your help with washing the supper dishes later. Tomorrow the shop will be closed because I’ll be attending the funeral, so you can stay here and I’ll give you some tasks to do.’
Kathleen thanked her and was glad she was not expected to attend the funeral. The last one she had attended had been the former Mrs Robbie Bennett and it had brought back memories of her mother and she’d rather not go to another. She would be perfectly happy having the house to herself.
* * *
‘Gosh, I’m really glad Mam’s come but I hope she behaves herself,’ whispered Wendy to her sister. They were proceeding down the aisle behind Joy, Hanny and Freddie towards the choir and sanctuary ahead.
‘Where is Mam?’ asked Minnie in a low voice.
‘In the middle of the front pew on the left,’ replied Wendy out of the corner of her mouth.
‘She’s such a liar, saying she wasn’t coming,’ murmured Minnie. ‘What do we do? Are we going to sit with her or stay with Aunt Joy?’
As the coffin bearers laid down their burden in front of the communion rail, both girls kept their eyes on the high altar which was constructed of elaborately carved wood. ‘Sit with her.’ Wendy’s voice was barely above a whisper. ‘Aunt Joy has her close family to support her.’
‘Hush, you two,’ whispered the girls’ youngest brother. ‘Aunt Joy will hear you.’
Joy had not caught what the girls had said but she was aware of Rita’s black-clad figure sitting bolt upright in one of the front pews. Joy made for the pew on the other side and Rita’s children joined their mother. Hanny slipped her hand into Joy’s and gripped it tightly. Freddie on the other side of her put his arm about her shoulders. Joy raised her eyes to the stained-glass window depicting the crucifixion and other scenes from the Bible and suddenly the scenes blurred as tears filled her eyes. It seemed unbelievable that only a short while ago she had stared up at those images after reciting her wedding vows. Now what was she going to do with the rest of her life?
It was a relief when the funeral was over, although the service had not been the ordeal that Joy had dreaded, but interments were always stressful and Joy was just glad that Rita must have decided not to attend the actual burial. She had dreaded that Robbie’s sister might do something dramatic like throw herself on his coffin before it was lowered into the ground.
Back at the house, Joy was able to cope with mingling with Robbie’s friends over drinks and food but fortunately no one stayed for long. By three in the afternoon, the only people that remained were her close family, Wendy and Grant and Robbie’s solicitor. Not that his will should contain any surprises, thought Joy. Robbie had told her that he was leaving everything to her but for small sums of money to his nieces and nephews. As for his sister, he intended to instruct his solicitor that there was need for her to pay the debt she owed him.
As the solicitor finished speaking, Joy remained in her chair. Her legs had turned to mush. She did not want to believe that Robbie could have behaved not only so secretively but so stupidly as well.
‘I am so sorry to have given you such a shock, Mrs Bennett,’ said the solicitor. ‘At least you can be thankful that Mr Bennett did not mortgage the house or cash in his insurance policy.’
‘But the insurance money won’t amount to much once the funeral is paid for,’ said Joy, clearing her throat. ‘I find it almost impossible to believe that he would sell all the properties that his last wife had left him. What has he done with the money?’
‘I wish I knew,’ said the solicitor, shaking his head.
Joy felt sick, wondering how she was going to support herself. Fortunately there were no bills outstanding except for the funeral expenses but she needed an income. She would have to find work. Not so easy when there were so many women already looking for jobs.
It was not until the solicitor had left that Freddie surprised Joy by saying, ‘I can shed light on what Robbie spent the money on.’
Joy stared at him. ‘What? You?’
‘Aye, me.’ Freddie looked uncomfortable. ‘On the morning of your wedding he spoke of having invested money in a mining project.’
‘I can add to that,’ said Grant, surprising her even further.
‘You know something about this, too?’ said Joy, turning to him.
‘Yes. It was after we heard the news that Brendan O’Hara had been killed. Apparently Robbie had invested money in a scheme of O’Hara’s. He said something about needing to get in touch with Brendan’s sister in New York but not having her address. He asked me to see if I could trace O’Hara’s family in Ireland and see if they could help with finding her.’
‘And…?’ asked Joy, clenching her fists.
‘I managed to get the name of a town in Ireland from a horse trainer who had been at the Grand National and that’s as far as I got,’ said Grant.
Freddie said, ‘If Robbie invested money in a mining project, then surely he should have a share certificate somewhere.’
‘I’ll have to search for it,’ said Joy, frowning. ‘But I’d have thought he would have kept it with the insurance policy and the deeds of the house but he obviously didn’t.’ She could scarcely conceal her anger.
Silence.
Joy looked at her close family who were exchanging glances. ‘I know. You’re going to have to go.’ She forced a smile. ‘Thanks so much for coming. I’ve appreciated your support but now I’m going to have to get used to being on my own.’
‘At least you have Rex,’ said her brother, picking up the puppy and handing him to his sister.
Joy cuddled the dog against her bosom. ‘Robbie was so pleased when he found out the Doyle girls had given us a dog for a wedding present.’ Her voice cracked.
Wendy had kept quiet until then but now she said, ‘Perhaps Mam might know something about Uncle Robbie’s shares.’
Joy looked at her. ‘I don’t see why, love. If he didn’t mention them to me, why should he have told your mother about them?’
‘It was just a thought.’ Wendy glanced at Grant. ‘Do you have anything else to say?’
‘I could go to this village in Ireland if Joy wants me to,’ he answered.
She stroked Rex’s head. ‘It would cost money and besides I’m not sure it would help.’ She sighed.
Hanny asked, ‘Will you be all right?’
Joy nodded, thinking that she had suffered loss before and survived. Surely she would this time.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Patsy, where are you?’ shouted Rose. She rapped on the floor with her stick.
Patsy hurried inside the house, leaving the front door ajar. ‘Coming, Mrs Tanner,’ she called, going to the foot of the stairs. ‘Is there something you want from down here?’
‘Yes! I want something to read. Go to the newsagent’s and collect my magazine.’
‘This week’s won’t be in until tomorrow,’ said Patsy.
Rose sighed heavily. ‘What am I going to read? There are no newspapers because of this stupid general strike.’
‘There’s last night’s single-page bulletin of the Echo,’ said Patsy. ‘Have you read that?’
‘What does it say?’
‘It’s about the general strike. The prime minister is appealing to the nation to go back to work and hopes for a peace move today.’
Rose yawned. ‘Anything else?’
‘It’s snowing up north.’
‘Snow in May! David will have something to say about that if it comes down here – what with him having to walk to the office. I can see you’re going to have
to join the library for me. Oh! Someone has just come up the path. See who it is, Patsy,’ ordered Rose.
Patsy turned as she heard a crash and the next moment a leather-clad figure entered the house, looking slightly guilty. A smile welled up inside her. ‘Is it Greg?’ she asked.
He wiped the grime from his face and gazed at her. ‘Is it Miss Doyle?’
‘Yes.’ She was pleased that he had remembered her name.
‘Someone’s left a bucket of water on the step. I’m afraid I knocked it over.’
‘Sorry. It was my fault. I was washing the step when Mrs Tanner called.’
‘Is that part of your job?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Patsy ruefully. ‘I do a bit of this, a bit of that and I cook as well.’
Greg removed his helmet and gloves and smiled. ‘You sound like a useful person to have around. How is Rosie?’
‘I’ll just run up and tell her you’re here and you can see for yourself.’
Rose called down, ‘I heard, Patsy. Come up, Greg. It’s about time my family showed some interest in me. Mother didn’t come, of course.’
‘That’s because she’d get lost,’ said Greg. ‘At least she hasn’t forgotten about you.’
Rose sniffed. ‘Most likely because she wants something from me. If it’s Nelson and Helen she’s worried about, tell her that there’s nothing I can do. I’m having a baby and I won’t risk losing it.’
‘She’s going senile. If you don’t come in the next few months it’s possible she might not recognise you.’
‘Then it doesn’t matter if I go or not, does it?’
‘You really are hard-hearted,’ said Greg, pausing at the top of the stairs and staring at the veiled Rose standing in the bedroom doorway.
‘Don’t look at me like that!’ she said savagely. ‘You’ve no idea how much I’ve suffered and am still suffering.’
‘I didn’t realise the scarring was that bad you felt a need to hide your face,’ said Greg, his voice softening. ‘I’ll try and explain to your mother.’