A Woman's Fortune Read online

  ‘Get up to bed and keep your voice down. The children and Mum will be asleep by now.’

  ‘You comin’ with me?’ Michael asked with a leering kind of smile.

  Jeanie turned her head away from the beer fumes in disgust. This was not a fitting end to such a lovely day.

  ‘Yes, I’ll be up in a minute,’ she told him, and pushed him in the direction of the stairs.

  ‘Ah, come up with me now, lass,’ slurred Michael, turning back and flinging an arm heavily around her waist.

  ‘I’ll be there in a minute, love,’ she said, unwinding herself from his clumsy embrace. ‘You go and warm the bed.’

  He grinned then gave another hiccup. ‘Good idea … warm the bed,’ he said, and clumsily made his way upstairs.

  Jeanie thought she’d give it several minutes so there’d be no danger of his being conscious when she went up.

  She climbed into bed ten minutes later, moving slowly, careful not to wake Michael, though there seemed little danger of that. He was flat on his back and snoring like a pig. She lay beside him, sighing, filled with disgust. At least he wasn’t a violent drunk, merely a pathetic one.

  She pulled the blankets round her ears to block out his snoring and closed her eyes, remembering her elegant lunch at the hotel, the excitement of the auction, the happy journey home in the red car, neither she nor Frederick needing to say much, and most of all, she remembered how Frederick had helped her from the car at the door, and kissed her hand. He was unlike any man she had ever met before.

  And what about tomorrow? she thought. Work, of course! I am, after all, his housekeeper, and nothing got done today. Well, no work got done today, though a lot did happen. And I don’t mean that pile of marrows …

  She sighed, thinking of the monster vegetables, wondering whether she could just get rid of them, even though they were food. No doubt Sue would object …

  One thing is clear, though, Jeanie decided, remembering sitting in the hot auction room, trapped in her coat by her shabby clothes beneath. I’m not going to work wearing my work clothes again. I’ll take them in a bag – mebbe leave them there. Just in case there’s to be another outing …

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Evie picked the post off the doormat. No letter from Billy today, but there was one addressed to her, from Mary Sullivan, if she wasn’t mistaken in the handwriting. She opened it immediately, eager to hear about her friends in Shenty Street.

  ‘What news?’ asked Sue, who was washing up the breakfast things before beginning work.

  ‘Mary says Geraldine is having a big birthday party and they’ve invited me to be there!’ Her heart lifted for a moment. ‘Oh, can I go, Grandma? Could we afford the train? I could go up on Saturday and come back on the Sunday.’

  Sue looked at the hope in young Evie’s face, and knew she’d work night and day to make this trip happen. ‘You can get all the news and give our love to everyone. Yes, of course you can go, Evie. No doubt Billy will be there so you’ll have a grand time.’ She looked up and beamed at Evie, giving her a wink.

  ‘But I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford the train fare and a present for Gerry, and I’ll have to arrange somewhere to stay as well …’ Evie was beginning to worry already.

  ‘Don’t fret yourself, love. I’ll give you the train fare, and in return you can do summat for me while you’re up there.’

  ‘Of course, Grandma. Anything!’

  ‘I think we could make use of a few lengths from the mill shop, so if you go up on the Friday you’ll have time to see everyone – including Billy – and do a bit of shopping for the dressmaking as well. It can be a sort of business trip and we’ll put the train fare down to expenses. How does that sound?’

  ‘Thank you, Grandma, that sounds brilliant, if you’re sure I’ll get the right things.’

  ‘Of course you will. Why wouldn’t you? The Sullivans’ house is bursting with folk already, but if you stay at Dora’s next door you’ll be able to help Marie and the girls prepare for the party. Dora’s always had a soft spot for you. She’ll be glad of the company, too, her being by herself so much. I’ll write and ask her if you can stay there for the two nights.’

  ‘That would be nice. Though, of course, I could stay at Billy’s, if Mrs Taylor wouldn’t mind.’

  Sue thought for a few moments, then said carefully, ‘If Ada offers to put you up that would be fine, of course, but I wouldn’t ask to stay there, and I wouldn’t go there unless Billy says she’s suggested it herself.’

  ‘Oh …’

  ‘It would be rude to ask if the offer’s not already there.’

  ‘But you said you’d ask Mrs Marsh – isn’t that the same thing?’

  ‘No, Evie. It’s quite different,’ said Sue firmly. ‘Now let’s get the kitchen tidied up before I go to measure up for Miss Richards’ curtains. And I’m wondering how your mum’s got on seeing Bob’s teacher this morning, though we’ll have to wait till she comes home from Redmond to find that out.’

  ‘Those mean kids – they want their heads knocking together,’ said Evie.

  Sue nodded her agreement, then, turning to the sink, she glanced into the corner where the box of marrows stood. ‘Blessed marrows,’ she muttered. ‘Do you think we can give them to the Harvest Festival, Evie?’

  ‘To our village church and several others, Grandma,’ Evie said. ‘Tell you what, though, I’m not lugging any of them marrows up to the North on the train!’

  And they both burst out laughing.

  Jeanie arrived at Marlowe House carrying a cloth bag with her work clothes rolled up inside. Today she wore a carefully chosen dress under the summer coat – an old favourite but not something she would be ashamed of if there was another outing.

  At the thought she pulled herself up. She had a job to do and yesterday had been a one-off. Frederick had wanted company on the drive, that’s all, just as she’d explained to her mother.

  She let herself in the front door with her key and, as always, her heart lifted at the elegance of the place. The space where the painting of Flora MacDonald had hung was still bare, the cobweb draped exactly where it had been the previous day.

  ‘Frederick?’ Jeanie called. ‘Hello?’

  No answer. She knocked on his study door, then tried the handle and peeped in. No one there. This was not unusual as he often was absent ‘seeing people’ and left her to get on. She didn’t need supervision, after all.

  But today, after the unlooked-for treat of the previous day, Jeanie felt strangely disappointed to find she was alone and firmly back in her housekeeper’s role.

  ‘Idiot,’ she chided herself aloud. ‘What exactly did you expect?’

  But that was a question she preferred not to try to answer.

  She took her work clothes up to a spare bedroom, changed into them and came down determined to catch up on her chores.

  Sue walked down to Lavender Cottage in the autumn sunshine. The lavender in Miss Richards’ garden was long over, but the roses still graced the front of the house and the scent reminded her of visits to Mrs Russell. She wondered how that gracious lady was, and wished once again that she could have confided in her before the Carters had fled from Shenty Street.

  It wasn’t Miss Richards that brought the heavy curtain fabric down the road to Pendle’s that afternoon, it was Letitia Mortimer, Miss Richards’ niece, which pleased Sue. Although the young woman had an unusually confident manner, she had seemed a nice sort of person, and it had occurred to Sue when Evie had said that Robert was finding it hard to make friends, that Evie herself had no new friends her own age. The customers tended to be older than Evie – women with young families. To Sue’s mind, Evie was continuing to look back to Shenty Street and her friendships with the Sullivan girls and with Billy Taylor, and not really making a new life for herself here, for all she had thrown herself into the sewing business.

  Letty opened the shop door.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Goodwin. I’ve got the curtaining in the bicycle basket –
I’ll just get it.’

  She went back outside and returned carrying the thick chevron-patterned fabric in both arms. ‘Shall I put it here? Ooh, I love the shop! Aunt Margaret said you’d got it set up nicely.’ She turned to close the door, then back to Evie, who was hand-stitching a skirt hem. ‘Hello, I’m Letty Mortimer.’ She extended a hand and shook Evie’s shyly proffered hand firmly.

  ‘I’m Evelyn Carter – Evie,’ said Evie, standing up and putting her work aside. ‘Grandma says your fabric is lovely – may I see …?’

  Then there was the showing and admiring of the bold fabric, and then Letty looked through the dress patterns and commented on the styles, and she and Evie exchanged views on various cuts of skirts. Then Letty had to look through Sue’s collection of lace and buttons, constantly asking where they had come from and drawing out the stories behind them – ‘as if she really cared to know,’ as Sue said afterwards – and so the afternoon passed, punctuated by cups of tea and laughter.

  Robert came home from school and Letty even drew him into the conversation, asking about his school, which he said had been ‘better than usual’ that day, and then going with him to admire the ridiculous box of marrows.

  ‘We’re having summat called a fête at school,’ Robert announced.

  ‘Oh, yes? What happens there?’ asked Letty, giving Evie a wink.

  ‘I don’t really know … I think it’s part of Bonfire Night but with stalls to raise money. They want to get new curtains for the front of the platform in the hall so that we can do plays and stuff.’

  ‘Well, we all know who can make curtains,’ said Letty.

  Sue smiled. ‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it, but I’ll go in and see Miss Grainger. I reckon me and Evie could run up summat simple for free if they brought me the fabric.’

  ‘So what are you going to do in this fête, Bob?’ Evie asked. ‘Got any fund-raising ideas?’

  He looked downcast. ‘No … they all want to do the Tombola. That’s the best. Some of them have done this kind of thing before and know all about it, but I don’t.’

  ‘There’s time yet to think of summat,’ said Sue.

  ‘And I must be getting back or Aunt Margaret will be thinking I’ve gone missing,’ said Letty. ‘Thank you for the tea and a wonderful afternoon. It’s been the most fun I’ve had since … for ages.’

  ‘It’s been nice for us, too, love,’ said Sue. ‘Do come again.’

  ‘Try keeping me away,’ Letty replied, beaming. ‘See you soon!’

  Through the front window they saw her pushing off on the bicycle and she gave a wave and big smile as she passed.

  For a moment Evie, Sue and Robert sat in silence as the air sort of settled and the habitual peace of the sewing room returned.

  ‘Blimey, that girl’s a whirlwind,’ laughed Sue.

  ‘She’s lovely,’ said Evie. ‘I do hope she comes here again.’

  ‘Oh, she will, living in a village this small – that is, I think she lives at Lavender Cottage. For all her chatter, I didn’t quite learn whether she lives with Miss Richards or she’s only there for a bit.’

  ‘Mebbe we’ll find out next time she comes,’ said Evie. ‘I do hope that will be soon.’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Sue, ‘but not too soon. Do you know, I haven’t got owt done this afternoon.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Evie. ‘But we’ve had fun, haven’t we? Sometimes it’s good just to have a laugh.’

  ‘Aye, I reckon you’re right, love,’ Sue replied. And she thought: Mebbe that’s what our Jeanie was doing yesterday, going to that auction with Frederick Bailey. Mebbe she only wanted a bit of fun. And after all that’s happened, I can’t say I blame her.

  Since Jeanie had had a word with Miss Grainger, Robert was no longer being teased by his classmates, but he still came home in the afternoons heavy with the burden of having spent every playtime alone.

  Evie tried to jolly him out of his misery, while trying not to make much of his loneliness in case he became more upset. If the weather was fine she and Robert had taken to walking along their favourite route round the field and into the wood, though as autumn drew on they needed to remember coats and gloves.

  Letty came to visit them again and one day Evie and Robert took her with them.

  ‘It’s a bit gloomy,’ said Letty, standing by the stream, which was now deep and cold-looking. ‘The way those branches creak is creepy, and, look, that one is like a skinny hand – like a witch’s hand.’

  ‘Oh, don’t, Letty,’ Evie said, looking sidelong at Robert to indicate what she meant. When Robert had gone to collect some acorns she said quietly, ‘Poor old Bob – he’s not made any friends at school yet and coming here is one of his best things to do. I don’t want him to become frightened about being in these woods. It would leave him with so little if he didn’t have here to enjoy.’

  Letty clamped her hand over her mouth in dramatic fashion. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Evie. Me and my big mouth! I didn’t think. Poor mite. Has he thought of anything he wants to organise for his school fête yet?’

  ‘I don’t think so. We’ve suggested a few things but he’s not keen. It has to be summat nice for him to do, not a chore.’

  ‘I’ve got it!’ said Letty. ‘I’ve just had the most brilliant idea! What about Guess the Weight of the Marrow? Heaven knows, you have plenty to choose from. The prize can be the marrow itself, so you’ll have one fewer to get rid of.’

  ‘Ha-ha, that is a good idea, except do you think Bob will have any takers if the marrow is the prize? Who’d want it?’

  ‘Well, we could have a proper prize for the nearest guess – chocolate or a cake or something – but still have Guess the Weight,’ said Letty.

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yes, we,’ insisted Letty. ‘I’m determined to play a part in this fête and not leave little Bob all on his lonesome with his marrow.’ The girls both snorted with laughter. ‘Peter and I can provide some entertainment to attract the punters and Bob can take the money and keep a note of the guesses. What do you think?’

  ‘It sounds grand,’ said Evie. ‘Thanks, Letty. Hey, Bob, you’ll never guess what Letty’s just thought up …’

  Billy was delighted that Evie was coming home for Geraldine’s party. The Sullivan parties were always crowded, loud and generous, all their guests chipping in with food and drinks. He only hoped there would be a chance to see Evie properly – to really talk to her, not just at the party, where, if past Sullivan events were anything to go by, the noise would be incredible. Everyone in Shenty Street would be invited because no one would be getting any sleep that night.

  ‘… arriving in Bolton on the Friday so that I can get a few things at the mill shop for the sewing business …’ Evie had written.

  ‘Mum,’ began Billy, one evening, as he brought her a cup of tea and placed it next to her Woman’s Weekly on the side table. He turned down the radio and sat on the footstool beside her. ‘I’ve been thinking, would it be all right if Evie came to stay the weekend of Geraldine’s party, please?’

  ‘What, stay here, you mean?’

  ‘Well, yes.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so, Billy love. That wouldn’t be possible at all.’ Her tone implied that was the end of the matter.

  ‘What do you mean, Mum?’

  Ada looked at him as if he were daft. ‘Where would she sleep, for a start? We’ve only got the two bedrooms.’

  ‘Yes, Mum, but I could sleep on the settee in the front and Evie could have my room.’

  ‘Oh, no, lad. I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ said Ada, picking up her cup and sipping her tea. She turned the radio up to indicate the conversation was over.

  Billy turned it down again.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You won’t want to be sleeping on that lumpy old settee, Billy. Not with your back. Why, you could be crippled by morning.’

  ‘Don’t be soft, Mum, there’s nowt wrong with the settee. And it would only be for the Friday and Saturday nights. E
vie will be going home on the Sunday.’

  ‘With your back! Whatever next? I’ve never heard nowt like it.’

  ‘Mum, I wish I knew what you are on about. What’s wrong with the settee? And what’s wrong with my back, come to that? I only ask that we be hospitable to a friend, that’s all.’

  ‘But there’ll be all the extra bedding to wash, love, and you know there’s only me to do that. I don’t know how I’ll cope with a load of extra work at my age.’

  ‘Your age? Goodness’ sake, you’re only fifty-two,’ Billy muttered, beginning to lose patience.

  ‘Don’t you go bringing my age into this. I don’t want you telling folk how old I am,’ Ada grumbled. ‘A lady’s age is her own concern and no one else’s.’

  ‘Who’s talking about your age, Mum? You are – that’s who. I’m talking about having a friend to stay for two nights so she can go to a party, that’s all. If you don’t want Evie to stay here just say so. At least I’ll know where things stand.’

  ‘Right then, she’s not staying, so let that be the end of it,’ Ada snapped.

  ‘Fine.’ Billy got up quickly and turned the Light Programme up to near-deafening volume, then went out leaving the door open, because he knew the draught from the passage annoyed Ada.

  He put on his coat and went for a stroll down to the Lord Nelson to see who was there to join him for a pint, feeling that he’d been mean and childish to his mother. But then, she’d been mean first. He knew she regarded Michael Carter as unreliable, but it was Evie coming to Geraldine’s party, not Michael, and she was the sweetest girl he could imagine.

  He cheered up, thinking about Evie and how he would see her very soon. She’d written that her grandma had thought she’d ask Dora Marsh to put her up, so at least she’d be staying with a friend, and nearby. Of course, that wasn’t as good as having her to stay at his own home, but he’d still see her most of the weekend … and he could hardly wait.

  ‘I can’t help noticing that your study is getting in a right old state, Frederick. Would you like me to clean it this week?’ asked Jeanie. She hadn’t been invited to clean the study yet, nor even to set foot in it. It was chaotic and, although Frederick hadn’t said so, more private than the other rooms in the house.