by Anne Baker
‘Millie,’ he said, ‘I can’t be doing with James’s boys, they’ve gone too far.’
She straightened up from her workbench with a sinking heart. ‘What have they done now?’
‘Marcus is trying to elbow me out of my job.’
‘No, Billy, no. It’s not your job he wants.’
‘It is, Missus. He came to my office as bold as brass and said he’d be heading the buying team in future. That’s got to mean I’m reduced to being his assistant. I’m not having that.’
‘Billy, he can’t do your work.’ Millie was exasperated with Marcus.
‘I know. No doubt he’ll expect me to go on doing it all and he’ll take the kudos.’
‘Calm down. Come and sit down.’ Billy could do neither, he was breathing flames.
‘Denis, would you please make two cups of tea for us?’ Millie asked.
She forced Billy into a chair but he raved on. ‘He’s got an ego the size of a house. Just because his family own this business he thinks he can walk straight in and do any job better than we can.’
‘You do an excellent job.’
‘I know but he thinks he can do it better. He thinks he can run the whole outfit, make it earn more money. I’m not staying to be put upon by him. I’ll leave and get a job somewhere else. There’s lots of jobs to be had these days.’
‘Billy, we need you here. I don’t want you to go, we can’t manage without you. I’ll talk to Marcus, leave him to me.’
He was still snorting with rage. ‘He said I dressed like a scarecrow and was a disgrace to the firm.’
Millie giggled and failed to control it. She broke into a laugh and eventually Billy managed a wry smile. ‘Well, you have to admit you are not our smartest dresser.’ She laughed again.
He sighed. ‘Perhaps it’s time I ditched this suit.’ The cuffs and pockets were fraying and it looked as though it hadn’t ever been pressed during the years he’d worn it.
‘If it makes you feel any better,’ Millie said, ‘I thought Marcus was trying to take over my job, and there’s nothing else I can do.’
‘You’re good at it, Missus. He’d be hopeless.’
‘Marcus doesn’t know what he can do or where he fits in, that’s his problem. How old are you now, Billy?’
‘Fifty-nine and I’ve worked here since I was fourteen. Been round just about every department in that time, I have.’
‘You know more about how we function than Marcus does, and he doesn’t like that. You don’t really want to leave us, do you? After all, another six years and you’ll retire and draw your pension from us.’
‘I’d rather stay, Missus, and that’s the truth.’ He took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow.
‘Right, well, I’d better have a word with Marcus then.’
Millie got up with a sigh. She thought it better not to give Marcus any warning and went slowly up to the tower to see him. She felt full of dread, afraid he’d start another row. She hoped that James hadn’t come in today because that would mean she’d have to argue with two of them. She rapped on the door and walked straight in and was relieved to find Marcus alone.
‘Millie!’ He lowered his cup to its saucer and put down a half-eaten biscuit beside it. There was another waiting untouched. ‘To what do I owe this honour?’
‘It’s no honour,’ she said. ‘Marcus, I hate having to confront you like this, but you’re always causing trouble of one sort or another.’
‘Not again,’ he sighed. ‘What is it this time?’
‘You’ve upset Billy Sankey. I know we’ve been through all this before, but couldn’t you just take a quiet interest in what our buyer does? Ask him questions, look at his files and then when Billy retires in six years’ time you’ll understand what’s required and be able to control the buying? Instead you’re giving him the impression you know it all and that he knows nothing of value to us.’
‘And that isn’t right?’
‘No. He’s spent all his working life here, he knows what he’s doing and he’s got all the contacts. We wouldn’t survive without him. So stop badgering him. Billy stays.’
Marcus was going puce with rage but before he could speak Millie strode from the room and ran down to the lab. Moments later Denis slid a cup of tea in front of her and disappeared again behind the high racks in the lab.
An hour later when she’d calmed down she went to speak to Billy. He wasn’t his usual cheery self. ‘I’ve had a word with Marcus,’ she said, ‘and I’ve told him we need you on the job. I’ve asked him to leave you alone. Don’t worry about it. I won’t let him push you out.’
He had a hangdog look. ‘Thanks, Missus.’
‘You keep out of his way, Billy. Just get on with your job.’
Sylvie was cross with herself. She’d agreed to go to the pictures with Denis on Saturday, having forgotten that she’d arranged to spend that afternoon and evening with Helen. Valerie had bought her a dress length of gorgeous blue and grey striped taffeta to reward her for babysitting the twins and Sylvie was eager to make herself a party dress for the Christmas season. Helen was very good at sewing and had offered to help her cut it out and show her how to make it up. Sylvie was keen to learn the basics of dressmaking because it stretched both money and coupons and meant she could have more clothes.
Helen had suggested she come on Saturday because Eric’s company was holding a three monthly specialist sale of clocks and watches, and he generally didn’t get home until seven o’clock on those days. Helen liked a bit of company, and Sylvie had spent similar Saturday afternoons with her and usually stayed on to have supper with them.
As her mother was parking the car outside the office, Sylvie saw Denis heading through the door ahead of them. The glow she’d felt for Denis’s company had faded, and she’d made up her mind to call off her date with him as she wanted to get her party frock started. She said to her mother, ‘I’ll call in the lab on my way in,’ and told her why.
Her mother frowned. ‘You could get Helen to cut out your dress and then leave early and still go to the pictures with Denis.’
She was reluctant. ‘I suppose I could,’ she said.
‘You do that.’ Millie opened the lab door and Sylvie could see Denis fastening his white coat. ‘If you’ve agreed to go out with him, you shouldn’t back out. That wouldn’t be kind.’
On Saturday, Sylvie felt she’d had a rewarding afternoon. She’d watched Helen lay out her paper pattern on the dress length and cut it out with expert ease. She’d given her the job of tacking some of the pieces together, then got out her sewing machine and showed her how to run up two of the main seams. Sylvie was pleased with the progress they were making and thrilled when Helen said, ‘It’s going to look very smart when it’s finished.’
Eric rang up to say they were particularly busy and he’d be later getting home than he’d expected. Sylvie hadn’t told her sister she would be leaving early until she’d arrived, and Helen had made a sponge cake for tea which was her favourite and had planned to make egg and chips when Eric came home. Baby Jenny was very good all afternoon, billing and cooing at them and wanting to play, and she knew Helen wanted her to stay.
When the time came for Sylvie to leave, rain was bucketing down and she had to borrow Helen’s umbrella to run to the nearest bus stop. She was getting wet and cold and had to wait so long for a bus that she was afraid she’d be late for her meeting with Denis. She wished she hadn’t allowed her mother to stop her calling this date off.
When finally the bus drew up at the stop, there was standing room only and it was all fogged up and smelled of wet macintoshes. It took her some time to realise someone was trying to attract her attention. It pleased her when she realised it was Denis. He was beaming at her and pushing through the other passengers to reach her.
‘Sylvie, I’m so glad t
o see you, relieved really. What are you doing on this bus?’
‘I’ve spent the afternoon with Helen.’
‘I was afraid I was going to be late for our meeting. The last bus broke down and we had to wait for a replacement to come from the depot. Anyway, now we’ve met, I don’t have to worry about that.’
Sylvie felt cheered. Denis looked quite handsome though his hair was more than damp. When they got off in town, the rain had eased. He took her arm and threaded it through his.
‘What would you like to do? The Jolson Story is showing at the Odeon or there’s music hall at the Empire with George Formby topping the bill.’
‘Oh, I’d like to see George Formby. He cheers everybody up, doesn’t he? And Mum doesn’t approve of him for my brothers so she won’t take me there.’
‘Not approve, why not?’
‘It’s his humour. The double innuendo, we children are too young.’
‘It’s pretty harmless, isn’t it? A bit like Old Mother Riley.’
‘Yes, and Mum takes us to see her. We all think she’s great fun.’
Denis looked serious. ‘Should we see George Formby if your mother doesn’t approve?’
‘That’s exactly why we should.’ Sylvie smiled. ‘You don’t always have to think of pleasing her.’
‘I do because she’s my boss – well, mostly I do, anyway.’ He grinned at her. They went to the Empire and he bought chocolates for her.
‘Marvellous,’ she said, ‘thank you very much. It’s very generous of you to spend your sweet coupons on me.’
Sylvie loved the excitement of the theatre. The Sand Dancers were a supporting act and they laughed so much at their antics that Sylvie’s sides ached. She couldn’t help but notice that Denis spent almost as much time looking at her as he did watching the stage. He bought her an ice cream in the interval but Sylvie was getting hungry despite that, and her tummy was rumbling audibly. It was still only nine thirty when they came out but it was very dark. The rain had stopped, leaving a clean but cold blustery night.
‘Let’s walk down to the Pier Head,’ he suggested. ‘It’s too early to go home yet and there’s always plenty of life down there.’
‘And it’s the bus terminus, so it’s easy to get home when we want to.’
He put his arm round her waist and pulled her closer. Sylvie shivered as much from the thrill of that as from the cold. She decided her mother was right. Denis was a very nice person and it was great being escorted round by him.
The river seemed alive with lights glistening on the black water. A ferry boat was tying up ready to take passengers across the river. There were lights, too, on the fish and chip van parked on the front and the breeze was carrying the delicious scent to them.
‘Would you like fish and chips?’ he asked.
Sylvie laughed. ‘I’d love some,’ and she told him why she’d missed her supper. The fish had sold out but he bought them three pennyworth of chips each, and they leaned over the railings looking down on the landing stage to eat them. She’d never enjoyed chips more.
Sylvie was very aware of him standing closer to her than he ever had before. Suddenly, he pulled her even closer into a long, thrilling hug and bent to kiss her full on the lips. When he lifted his face from hers, he smiled and said, ‘I’ve been hoping for a long time that you’d let me kiss you. Will you come out with me again?’
‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly.
‘I’ve admired you from a distance for ages,’ he said. ‘I’d like you to be my girlfriend. Will you?’
Sylvie nodded, too overcome to speak.
‘I’m afraid I’m not much of a catch for a girl like you.’
‘Why not?’ Sylvie was enjoying this.
‘You’re the most beautiful girl in the office. In all Liverpool really and just look at your family. I’m aiming high aren’t I?’
To Sylvie it felt like balm. ‘Not too high,’ she said. ‘I think we’re well suited.’
He kissed her again and they spent the next half hour with their arms round each other battered by the blustery breeze. Denis began to worry that he was keeping her out too late and when her bus pulled into the terminus they both got on it.
‘This is going a good bit out of your way,’ she said. ‘There was a bus waiting there that would have taken you straight home.’
‘I’d like to see you safely home first,’ he said. When they got off the bus he walked her along the road to her front gate. The lights were full on downstairs and radiating out into the garden. ‘Your mother has waited up for you,’ he said.
‘It isn’t that late.’
‘I was told to deliver you home by ten thirty even though it is Saturday night.’
‘Mum said that?’ Sylvie wasn’t sure she liked it. ‘She must think I’m not old enough to look after myself.’
‘Perhaps it’s me she doesn’t trust.’ He kissed her again rather briskly, and pushed the gate open for her. ‘Better if you go in now. I’ll see you on Monday.’
Sylvie had expected another cuddle and more of a kiss than that after he’d come out of his way to see her home, but his hand was on her shoulder urging her through the gate. Mum was interfering and he was too much in her pocket. ‘Goodnight,’ she said, and used her key to let herself in.
Millie was crossing the hall, wearing her dressing gown. ‘Hello, love,’ she said. ‘Have you had a good time?’
‘It was all right. Mum, you’ve got to trust me to look after myself.’
‘I do. Would you like a cup of cocoa? I’m just going to make some for myself.’
‘No thank you,’ she said icily. ‘You’re pulling the strings where Denis is concerned. I don’t like you telling him to deliver me back to the door and at what time he has to do it.’
‘Oh dear,’ her mother said. ‘It doesn’t sound as though you’ve enjoyed yourself. You’re a bit grumpy. That’s a shame.’
Chapter Nineteen
Christmas was fast approaching and as this would be Millie’s first without Pete, she was missing him more than ever and was thinking of him all the time. Tom Bedford procured a turkey for her as he had relatives who were farmers. Valerie had invited her and her children to have a midday Christmas dinner at her house and Helen was going to provide a cold supper and singing round the piano in the evening, so she handed the turkey over to them to feed the family.
Sylvie and the boys were invited to one or two pre-Christmas parties and at home they were busy making Christmas cards and additional decorations for the playroom. There was much whispering and secrecy about presents. The weekend before the holiday they brought down the tree and all the old decorations from the attic, and they had noisy fun hanging decorations and dressing the tree. As they’d used the same ones since before the war they remembered each one almost as though it was an old friend and exclaimed with delight as it came to light.
All the preparations reminded Millie that Uncle James had said he wanted to retire at the end of the year. In the past, whenever an employee retired, Pete had arranged some little ceremony and a parting gift to celebrate the occasion. When Marcus took over his office it was one of several tasks Millie had suggested he take over. Millie had had to step in for the last two men who had retired from the factory floor but now James’s retirement date was drawing closer and she felt it might cause resentment if she went ahead and organised something for him herself.
James hadn’t come to the office for the last few weeks so she couldn’t consult him, and as she’d heard no mention of any retirement arrangements, she climbed up to the room in the turret one morning to see Marcus.
He wasn’t in, his desk was bare and his waste-paper basket empty. It was easy to see he hadn’t come to work this morning. She felt a flush of anger; he and his brother had arrived saying that as family members they would step into Pete’s sh
oes and run the company, but Marcus was following in his father’s footsteps and rarely coming to work, and doing nothing when he was here. She thought he was a waste of time and money, a liability for the business.
Millie ran down to the boardroom to see Nigel. He had impeccable manners and leapt to his feet as she entered. She couldn’t help complaining about Marcus and let him see her anger.
‘What does he do with himself all day? He’s supposed to be here in working hours, and he never gives any explanation or apology for his absence.’
Nigel backed her towards a chair. ‘I’m sorry, I know Marcus isn’t the easiest person to handle at the moment. He’s got personal problems and we’re all worried about him.’
‘I suppose his absence is easier to take than having him here boxing Billy’s ears and causing mayhem.’ Millie relaxed and tried to smile. ‘Straighten him out, Nigel. The business can’t go on carrying him for ever.’
‘I know. Father is losing patience with him too and I feel caught between them. Please give him another chance.’
Millie shrugged. ‘What else can I do?’
‘Why were you looking for him? Did you want him to do something?’
‘Yes,’ Millie explained. ‘I wanted him to arrange something for your father’s retirement. What would he like us to do? I can’t ask him as he doesn’t come in any more.’
Nigel sighed with exasperation. ‘I don’t know.’
‘He’ll want to come in and say goodbye to everybody, won’t he? Make his retirement official.’
‘Yes. Perhaps we could ask him to come in on his last day and give a little farewell speech. Then we could take him out for a celebratory dinner that evening.’
‘But that will be New Year’s Eve,’ Millie pointed out, ‘and everywhere gets booked up well ahead. We might have left it a bit late to book for a large number. Anyway, the staff may want to make their own arrangements for that night. Wouldn’t it be better if we had it the week before? He could come in during the afternoon and make his farewell speech to the whole factory during their tea break. Then perhaps a dinner with the senior managers that evening.’