Nobody’s Darling

by Nobody’s Darling (retail) (epub)

  * * *

  Luke was preening himself in front of the hallway mirror, pressing the palms of his hands over his temples in a bid to flatten his wayward fair hair, and at the same time discreetly admiring the handsome, thick-set man who stared back at him. He certainly looked splendid in his brown cords and burgundy jacket. After dinner, he had a very important date to keep; although his father would never approve of the long-legged brunette who blatantly chased him for his money and not his looks.

  He saw Teresa in the mirror, so was not unduly surprised when she came rushing in through the door. However, on closer inspection he saw that she was in a foul mood, her face aflame and her mouth set in a thin grim line. ‘Where’s Father?’ she asked rudely, her brown eyes glittering with anger. Deeply frustrated by what had just taken place, she felt cheated and bitter, bent on inventing some dreadful story about the stablehand making approaches to her. At this moment in time, she didn’t care if she never saw him again. She wanted him dismissed, shamed, sent from Arnold Lodge with a slur against his name that would prevent his ever again gaining employment in a house of gentry. It didn’t matter that it was Thomas who had ruined her devious little plan. All that mattered was that it had been ruined. She felt humiliated and scorned. There was a deal of loathing in her, and this was unjustly directed at the young man she had meant to seduce.

  ‘My, my!’ Her brother turned slowly round to regard her with some curiosity, softly laughing when his dark blue eyes alighted on the wisps of straw caught in the hem of her skirt, ‘What have you been up to?’ he asked cunningly, noting how her shoulder-length light brown hair was unusually dishevelled and the upper buttons of her blouse done up in the wrong order, ‘You certainly like playing with fire, don’t you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ At once she was on her guard.

  ‘You know very well what I mean,’ he whispered, glancing furtively towards the drawing-room from which emanated the sounds of Oliver Arnold and his youngest daughter laughing, delighting in each other’s company. ‘If I were you, sister dear, I’d tidy myself up before Father sets eyes on you.’ He grinned. ‘You little bitch,’ he teased. ‘Was he to your liking… our brawny stable-lad?’

  Incensed by his taunting, she lunged forward and kissed him full on the mouth. ‘Don’t be jealous now!’ she retorted. Then, before he could recover his composure, she laughed in his face, turned quickly and went in great haste up the wide stairway to her room. She was still smiling when she closed the door. Somehow her fury had subsided. No, she didn’t want the young man dismissed. But she did want him. Oh, yes. And next time she would plan it all much more carefully.

  * * *

  It was ten minutes past seven when Johnny stepped off the tram at Blackburn Boulevard. The sun was still high in the heavens and the evening air was clammy. He felt tired and hungry, but as always was glad to be making his way home to the bosom of his family. Even in his work-clothes and with his hair tousled from crawling about beneath the horses’ bellies, he was handsome enough to turn a few heads. Two young factory-girls giggled as he strode past them, his broad shoulders set square and his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He was amused but not affected by their girlish antics. They were pretty enough, and no doubt they would make good companions, but they were not Ruby. It was she who filled his mind at the moment. She who had filled his mind all day. Ruby held his heart and his future in the palm of her tiny hand.

  From the corner of his eye he saw a familiar figure approaching. He recognised the terrier-like features and the way the man’s flat cap was perched on his greying hair at a jaunty angle. He saw how the man swayed from side to side and his heart sank. The man was his father, and even before the pubs were properly open, he was already drunk.

  Reluctantly, Johnny stopped and waited. ‘Aw, Dad, have you no decency?’ he asked, neither ashamed nor proud of this once charming man now hopelessly afflicted with a craving for drink. ‘Just look at yourself! You can’t put one foot before the other.’ He stretched out his arm. ‘Come home with me, eh? Mam’ll be wondering where you are.’ It was a strange thing, but he loved and hated his dad all at the same time.

  ‘Away with you. Your mam knows where her ol’ fella is, and she knows he’ll come home when he’s ready.’ He chuckled and said with a cheeky wink, ‘I saw them two lassies, giggling an’ giving you the eye. You’re a chip off the ol’ block, sure you are, Johnny Ackroyd.’ He stretched his little figure to its full height. ‘There was a time when I could turn a few heads. Oh, aye! You ask your mam, she’ll tell you… had to fight the little buggers off, she did.’ He cocked his head and thrust his two hands into his pockets, almost falling over when he unbalanced himself. ‘Gerrof!’ he yelled when Johnny thrust out an arm to grasp him. ‘I ain’t drunk.’ He was indignant though. ‘I ain’t coming home for a while yet, tell your mam. There’s this bloke, y’see, and he’s got a bloody good idea for making money. I’ve a chance to get in on it. Your mam’ll understand.’ He glanced at Johnny’s pocket. ‘Got your wages, have you, lad?’

  ‘Yes, Dad, I’ve got my wages, but you’d better not say what’s on your mind because these wages are going home with me. I’m not interested in your get-rich-quick ideas, and I’m certainly not going to give you my hard-earned wages, just so you can squander them on some fella who spins you a likely tale.’ When the other man cast his forlorn gaze down, Johnny was struck with remorse. ‘Aw, come home with me, Dad. You know our mam’ll be worried about you.’ His father’s weaknesses for gambling and booze were widely known, and there were plenty of crooks who would take advantage of a soft-hearted individual like Leum Ackroyd.

  ‘I’ve told you, I can’t come home, not yet. I’ve a fella to see. Do as you’re told and tell her I’ll be home shortly.’ He gave a loud hiccup and grinned broadly. ‘Did you hear that, eh? I swear I’ll never touch a hot chestnut as long as I live. Tuppence a bag from the barrow on King Street. By! They turn my stomach upside down an’ that’s a fact.’

  ‘It couldn’t be the drink then?’ Johnny had to smile.

  ‘The drink? Never!’ He saw the glint of humour in Johnny’s face and was not a man to lose an opportunity. ‘I need a shilling or two, son. As God’s my judge, I’ll pay it back.’

  ‘You know I can’t give you Mam’s money.’

  ‘Oh, I know that. But your mam don’t take all your wages.’

  ‘I keep enough back to see me through the week, that’s all.’

  ‘Aye. And a bit to save.’ He leaned closer and Johnny could smell the booze on his breath. ‘Saving, ain’t you? Saving for the day when you’re ready to ask that bonny Ruby Miller to be your wife.’ He saw the surprise on his son’s face and was encouraged to add boldly, ‘You didn’t think your ol’ dad knew that, did you, eh?’ He rolled his eyes upwards and sighed. ‘By! I remember when your mam was a slight young thing. She were bonny too.’ He made a choking noise in the back of his throat and his eyes welled up with tears. ‘I’ve not been much of a husband to her, have I, eh? I wouldn’t blame her if she were to pack her things and leave me for good.’

  ‘Come home, Dad.’

  ‘No. Not yet. I’m sorry for what I am, son, but I can’t be no different than the Good Lord made me. I shouldn’t be asking for your wages, and I’m ashamed. You keep them. Take them home to your mam. Tell her I’ll be along, I’ve some business to see to first.’ He turned away, his shoulders bowed as though the weight of the world was pressing him down.

  To the young man watching, it was a heart-rending sight. This was his father, and like he said, he was only what the Lord had made him. ‘Wait on, Dad.’ Johnny went after him. Digging his hand into his trouser pocket, he brought out two silver shillings. ‘I’ll expect it back when you’re able. Don’t waste them on booze, will you, eh?’ he said, pressing them into his father’s outstretched palm.

  Leum was never a man for making promises he couldn’t keep, so he didn’t answer. Instead he muttered, ‘You’re a good lad.’ Then he patted Johnny’s shoulder, winked in th
at endearing way he had, and soon was going down the road, whistling to his heart’s content and leaving Johnny to reflect on his impetuous action. He thought it best not to tell his mam that he’d given away his own share of the week’s wages; though he would tell her that he’d seen his dad and that he would ‘be home shortly’. All the same, if past experience was anything to go by, it would be gone midnight before Leum Ackroyd came rolling down the street, his voice uplifted in song and his pockets empty.

  ‘Got any sweeties for us, Johnny?’ The little boy ran towards his hero, and all the other children close on his heels; snotty-nosed, raggy-arsed kids who had been playing in the street, rolling their hoops along the cobbles and chasing the dogs in circles. When the smallest one saw Johnny, though, the play was abandoned. They all loved Johnny Ackroyd. He always brought them sweets of a Friday night.

  ‘I’m sorry, fella,’ Johnny apologised, ‘I didn’t have time to stop at the shop.’ In fact, he’d been so dismayed at seeing his father in such a state, he’d forgotten all about the children’s sweets.

  ‘Ain’t you got none in your pockets?’ The little lad cuffed a running dewdrop from his nose onto the back of his shirt-sleeve. ‘Have a look, go on,’ he pleaded. And just to please him, Johnny dug into his trouser pockets. It was hard to tell who was more surprised, him or the little fella, when he produced a handful of liquorice lumps. ‘Thanks, Johnny!’ the lad cried, grabbing the sweets and running full pelt up the street with the others on his tail. ‘Come back!’ they yelled. ‘You’d better share ’em or else!’ Johnny chuckled. He was glad he’d found the sweets. The children expected it.

  As always, Johnny looked for Ruby when he strode down Fisher Street. Sometimes she would be home and sitting on the doorstep, and he would sit down beside her and they would chat and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. Not tonight though. There was no sign of her. He might have called down the passage if the front door had been open, but it was not and so he passed by. Later, when he was washed and changed, he meant to call on her. It suddenly occurred to him that she might be up in the bedroom with his sister Maureen, and with this thought in mind he quickened his footsteps towards his own front door.

  * * *

  ‘Do you think he’ll find work, our mam?’ Ruby was bouncing Lottie on her lap, while Lizzie put the finishing touches to the dinner table. ‘I asked Miss Cicely if there was any work in her dad’s foundry, and she said there might be, ’cause it seems they’re working full stretch.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby!’ Lizzie swung round to stare disapprovingly at her daughter. ‘What have I told you about discussing our business with your employers?’

  ‘It’s only Cicely, and she’s all right.’

  ‘Cicely Banks might be “all right’’, lass, but you’re paid to do a day’s work at her father’s house, not to stand about idly gossiping. By! Will you never learn that we’re different from these folks? They’re moneyed folk. Gentry, that’s what they are. Jeffrey Banks and his daughter ain’t no different than the Arnolds even if they do seem nicer folk. They live in a big house where they’re waited on by servants such as yourself, they feed off fine china and their tables are laid with the very best that money can buy, they own dandy clothes and grand carriages that ordinary folk have no need of, and they talk a different language.’ She heaved a deep sigh. ‘Will you do as yer mammy tells yer and keep your distance. Do your work and keep yourself to yourself, lass. Else, God help us, it’ll be you looking for work next!’

  Ruby wrapped her two arms round the infant on her lap, kissing and cuddling her, ‘Oh, our mam!’ she replied fondly. ‘Mr Banks would never get rid of me, not while I’m working hard and doing a good job. Besides Cook, there’s only me and a live-in maid, and we do the whole house between us. When I’ve finished my housework, I run about for Cook, and she always says she’s never had such a good worker. She’s even told Mr Banks what a “treasure” I am.’ In truth, Ruby enjoyed her work at the Banks household. She delighted in all the fine things about her – the expensive walnut furniture and the handsome drapes that swept the great casement windows, and, oh, that beautiful grand piano that she often secretly tinkered with when no one could hear. ‘Anyway, it isn’t me who talks to Cicely. It’s her that talks to me.’

  ‘Well, she shouldn’t!’ Lizzie could see the makings of trouble here. ‘And you’ve no right calling her “Cicely”.’

  ‘Why not? That’s her name.’

  ‘She’s Miss Cicely to you, and her father isn’t “Mr Banks” neither.’

  ‘Who is he then?’

  ‘He’s the master, that’s who he is, my girl. These folks have titles and they liked to be addressed correctly. Start showing disrespect and they’ll have you out the door faster than your feet can touch the ground.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, our mam.’ Ruby put the child in its makeshift cot and came to where Lizzie stood. Putting her arms round her broad squashy waist, she cuddled herself into her mam’s ample bosom. ‘I always address them correctly when I’m there, and I always treat them with respect. They’re nice people though, Mam. Cicely is awful lonely, and I think her dad likes it because she’s found a friend in me.’ She was startled when Lizzie swung round and caught her fiercely by the arms.

  ‘Don’t you ever look on these folk as friends, Ruby Miller!’ Lizzie’s pretty hazel eyes opened wide in horror. ‘These are the folks who pay you to wait on ’em, and that’s all you are… a servant to fetch and carry and pander to their needs, nothing more than that. Don’t you ever forget it, my girl!’

  ‘But I’m the only friend Cicely’s got.’

  Lizzie shook her then, and Ruby was visibly shocked. ‘NO! I’ll not have it. And when your dad gets work, happen it might be best if you left the Bankses and found something more suitable.’ She pushed Ruby away. It was the first time Ruby had ever seen her mam in such a state.

  ‘You know I can’t do that, Mam. Mr Banks is the best employer I could find, and he pays me good money that we couldn’t do without.’ Her dark eyes were confused as she looked up at her mam, but there was a certain defiance in her voice. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve angered you,’ she said. ‘I promise I’ll try to be more careful.’

  Lizzie was angry with herself too. She shouldn’t have gone on at the lass like that. In spite of having ideas above her station, Ruby was a good girl. But there were things that Ruby didn’t know. Things that she would never know if Lizzie had her way. ‘Aw, I’m sorry I lost me temper, luv,’ she said, cuddling the girl to her. ‘But you mustn’t get too familiar with folk who employ you. It never pays. Don’t forget, when I was a young lass I did the very same kind o’ work that you’re doing now, and I’ve seen a lot o’ heartache come from humble folk mixing too close with the gentry. It’s wrong, child. Believe your mammy when she tells you, it’s allus best to keep a distance between yer.’ She held Ruby at arm’s length. ‘Promise me you’ll think on what I’ve said?’

  ‘I promise.’ Ruby was glad she hadn’t been asked to promise that she would never talk to Cicely as a friend again, because that poor girl had nobody else to confide in. Cicely Banks had told her things that she’d never told anybody else; she was never one for making friends and really looked forward to seeing Ruby. Like all young girls, she couldn’t talk to her dad about certain things, and so confided in Ruby who always appeared much more mature than her fourteen years. She told Ruby how her mam had walked out soon after she was born and was later killed in a train accident somewhere in London. Being a shy and delicate creature, Cicely hardly ever left the house, and Ruby was like a ray of sunshine to her. The idea that she should ‘keep her distance’ from this lonely soul was unthinkable to Ruby. And yet, she didn’t want to cause her mam any distress. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said now, ‘I will think on what you’ve said, and I’ll try harder to remember my place in future.’

  Ruby was never sure what her ‘place’ was, though. Sometimes, she frightened herself by the very scale of her ambitions.

  ‘That’s all I’m
asking of yer, lass.’ Lizzie was in better spirits already, and anyway Ruby was right. This family could never do without the wages Jeffrey Banks paid her. ‘You keep your eye on Lottie while I fetch the brood in from the street,’ she said kindly. ‘And let’s hear no more about it, eh?’ Her answer was a bright and lovely smile that lifted her heart as she went from the room and on up the passage to the front door.

  Ted opened it just as Lizzie reached it. He shook his head. ‘No luck, sweetheart,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve fair worn me feet out, but there ain’t no work to be had this side o’ Liverpool.’

  Lizzie recalled what Ruby had told her. ‘Did you try Jeffrey Banks’s foundry?’

  ‘I had it in mind, but then some fella on the docks told me as how Oliver Arnold was after buying Jeffrey Banks out. If there really is a tug-o’-war going on, Banks won’t be looking to take on more labour. Still, happen I’ll go and see for myself on Monday, eh? Sometimes you listen to gossip, and get the wrong end of the stick.’ He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her mouth. ‘I’m home now, and I’m tired. I’ll start again first thing Monday morning. You’re not to worry, d’yer hear? Trust your old man and he’ll see you right, you know that.’ He deliberately brightened his face and rubbed his hands together. ‘I can smell hot-pot. By! I’m a hungry man an’ no mistake.’

  ‘You’ve done your best, luv. You can’t do more than that,’ Lizzie said in a voice that belied her fears, ‘The meal’s ready. We were just waiting on you, but you’ve time to have your wash, ’cause I’m just about to fetch the young ’uns in.’

  Her sorry eyes watched him go down the passage. She saw his stooped shoulders and the weariness in his footsteps, and her heart ached for him.