A Woman's Fortune Page 13

  ‘Good idea,’ said Jeanie. They were now back at Pendle’s and she pushed the door open and went through, calling out to Evie.

  ‘I must sing “The Marrow Song” to Billy when I see him – only six days to go!’ said Evie. ‘He’s been that amused by the saga of the marrows in my letters.’

  ‘Maybe you could teach it to Harold Pyke,’ said Jeanie, deadpan. ‘It’s a good tune, though a bit “of the moment”, so to speak. Or at least I hope it is,’ she added, eyeing the only slightly reduced contents of the marrow box. ‘What happened to the monster marrow, Pete?’

  ‘I left it there, by the school gate. I reckon it will have gone by Monday,’ said Peter. ‘There’s always someone stupid enough to pinch anything, even a gigantic marrow.’ And he resumed playing the song, trying out different chords.

  As the children were giving the chorus one more raucous round, Michael came slowly into the kitchen, his face screwed up, looking as if his head hurt. He sat down heavily at the table and groaned.

  ‘Can’t you kids just shut up?’ he snarled. ‘What kind of Saturday is it that a fella can’t have a bit of peace and quiet before he does a hard day’s work?’

  ‘You only work until dinnertime on Saturdays, as you well know,’ Jeanie answered, cheerfully. ‘And you’ll have to get a move on if you’re to get over the road on time.’

  ‘Aye, all right. Don’t go on,’ Michael muttered. ‘I think that mulled ale must have been a bit stronger than I thought.’

  ‘Should have drunk less of it, then,’ said Peter.

  There was a brief silence. ‘What did you say?’ said Michael menacingly.

  ‘Shush, Pete …’ said Sue, who was making toast. ‘Just leave it, love.’

  But Peter was determined to get his opinion of his father’s behaviour off his chest.

  ‘I said you should have drunk less of it,’ he repeated loudly and bravely. ‘Then you could have helped pack up the lighting and the stalls. It was Jack and me, and Mr Clackett, and the twins’ father who did it all, and we could have done with your help, ’specially as you said you’d be there at the end.’

  ‘Don’t you judge me in that tone, my lad,’ Michael said, standing up, though his aggressive stance was undermined by his swaying on his feet.

  ‘But everyone else is, Dad. Everyone else is saying that you skived off to the pub and left other folk to do all the work.’

  ‘Is this true?’ asked Jeanie. She couldn’t help herself: even if she prolonged the argument she had to know what was being said.

  ‘I wouldn’t lie to you, Mum,’ said Peter. ‘Jack was trying to make excuses for you, Dad, but the others weren’t taken in.’ Then he added, unwisely: ‘Mr Clackett was muttering about “the evils of drink” and Mr Thomas said … well, I heard him saying to Jack that you were a no-good drunk, and he felt sorry for Mum and Grandma. And I do, too!’

  Jeanie’s hands shot to her face in horror, while everyone started speaking at once.

  ‘Peter, be quiet! You’ve said far too much,’ shouted Sue.

  And Evie said, ‘Oh, Pete, that’s awful. To say such a thing so that you overheard!’

  ‘Come here, you cheeky bugger, and I’ll give you a good hiding,’ threatened Michael, starting towards Peter, but he lost his footing and sat down, nearly missing the chair, incapable of carrying out his threat.

  ‘Michael, I can’t believe you haven’t learnt your lesson, you stupid man,’ shrieked Jeanie. ‘After everything that happened in Shenty Street …’

  ‘Why should I shut up, Grandma, when it’s only the truth?’ yelled Peter.

  Robert sat looking from one to another and then loudly burst into tears. Soon everyone was remonstrating with everyone else and the noise was terrible.

  Eventually it was Sue’s voice that carried above all others.

  ‘Be quiet, the lot of you! Michael, get this cup of tea down you and get over the road to Clackett’s. And take your hangover with you and don’t come back until you’re sober and in a better mood. Peter, Robert, go to your room, please, and don’t come down until I say.’

  ‘But, Grandma—’ sniffed Robert.

  ‘I said go,’ snapped Sue, and the boys did as they were asked, Peter taking the guitar with him. He gave his father a filthy look in passing but he didn’t appear at all contrite.

  Michael got up stiffly, looking more fragile than ever, gulped down the tea, and shuffled off down the passage to the front door, grumbling and moaning in equal measure. The front door slammed and there was a sudden and deep silence.

  Sue, Jeanie and Evie looked at each other.

  ‘Well, it’s better we know what folk are saying. This is a small place and if I don’t learn the truth from my own family I may well hear it from others in the street or the shops, which would be far worse.’

  ‘But here was to be our new start,’ Evie said, tears spilling over. ‘I thought after the to-do at the brewery and that awful business with …’ she automatically lowered her voice, ‘… with Mr Hopkins, that Dad had learned his lesson and we were starting over.’

  ‘Well, folks all know each other’s business here, so anybody steps out of line, you might as well shout it from the rooftops. If Michael can’t keep sober and make an effort to be neighbourly then maybe we ought to go somewhere where we can keep our heads down more, a place where everyone isn’t minding everyone else’s business.’

  ‘You can’t mean it!’ gasped Jeanie. ‘What, move again? But we’ve hardly been here—’

  ‘And already Michael’s got a reputation for drink and idleness,’ interrupted Sue.

  ‘Oh, it’s not too late, is it?’ pleaded Jeanie. ‘You and Evie are doing so well – I’m that proud of you – and Pete’s never been so happy. He’d be heartbroken if he had to leave. And I admit I didn’t like the place when I first set eyes on it, but we’re settled at Pendle’s now, and anyway, you’re making use of the shop part. And we’ve got friends here. Even I have got a bit of a job of my own and I can’t, I just can’t, leave Frederick’s.’

  Sue sank into a chair and reached across to see if there was any more tea in the pot. Evie turned away to put the kettle on again and Jeanie could tell even from the back that she was fighting away tears. They all thought about what Sue had said for a few minutes.

  Then Evie said, ‘You’re right about folk knowing our business here, of course, Grandma, but we can’t keep running away. We had to leave Shenty Street because of Dad’s debt to Mr Hopkins and it was too dangerous to stay, but if we run away this time we’ll be trying to run from ourselves. We’ll be taking Dad with us, so we’ll be taking Dad’s drinking and Dad’s problems too. We could keep starting over forever, but it would always end the same.’

  ‘Wise words, lass,’ said Sue. ‘Yes, you’re right: better to stay where we have friends. If we move because folk know us, and know what we’re like, then we’ll be friendless vagabonds for the rest of our lives.’

  Jeanie let out a sob and mopped her eyes. ‘You’re both right,’ she nodded. ‘And after all, no one’s blaming us. Everyone here knows how hard you two work. You wouldn’t be so busy if folk didn’t think well of you.’

  Evie refilled the teapot and, discarding the cold and soggy toast, went to find the tin of digestive biscuits.

  ‘I’ve an idea,’ said Sue. ‘I’ll have a word with Mr Clackett – or you can, if you’d rather, Jeanie, love – and see if we can get him to keep Michael too busy to think about the Red Lion. Clackett’s a strict man but a fair one, and I think if he were to see keeping Michael on the straight and narrow was to his advantage, then we’d all benefit. What do you say?’

  Jeanie blew her nose and gave a watery smile. ‘Mr Clackett’s been good to us so it’s worth a try, Mum. But I reckon you’re the woman to do it. He terrifies the life out of me!’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Sue with a chuckle. ‘I reckon he’s soft as butter underneath. It’s just that we’ve never got underneath to see that. I’ll go over this afternoon, when Michael will have fi
nished there for the weekend. And then we’ll have to swallow our pride and rise above Michael’s behaviour yesterday evening. It’s the Carter women that keep the show on the road, as always.’

  ‘And Pete and me,’ said Robert, coming in to hear the last bit. ‘Perhaps I can stay here with you and Evie, Grandma, and help with the sewing.’

  ‘Perhaps you can go to school on Monday with all the money you collected for Guess the Weight,’ said Jeanie.

  ‘Oh, I forgot about the money,’ said Robert. ‘I haven’t counted it yet.’ He looked around. ‘Can anyone remember what I did with the tin?’

  While the others were all looking for the tin, Sue sipped her tea and thought over everything that had happened in the last day or so. Despite the upset of the morning, she found her mind returning, as it had when she lay in bed the previous night, to the gossip she had overheard about Frederick Bailey at the school bonfire. So what if he was divorced, she thought fairly, wasn’t it just bad luck if his marriages hadn’t worked out?

  But then a little voice in her head said: And whose fault was that? It took two to make a marriage work, as she knew only too well. She didn’t know anyone who was divorced, though she had known plenty of unhappy marriages in Shenty Street over the years. And three divorces! Could that be true – could it even be possible? She couldn’t forget that awful gossiping woman had said he’d ‘lured’ women from their husbands, then married and divorced them. And Jeanie had already as good as said she was beginning to fall out of love with Michael. Oh Lord …

  Well, maybe it was time to meet Frederick Bailey at last, thought Sue, but she’d have to think through very carefully exactly what she would say.

  In the meantime, she remembered heavily, she’d volunteered to tackle Mr Clackett about Michael that afternoon.

  ‘No rest for the wicked,’ she muttered, heaving herself to her feet, still tired from standing all yesterday evening.

  ‘What, Grandma?’ asked Evie.

  ‘I think I’ll go and press Miss Richards’ study curtains,’ said Sue. ‘We can take them down to Lavender Cottage and hang them this afternoon before I go to see Mr Clackett.’

  ‘I’ll give you a hand, too,’ said Peter, for which Sue was grateful, though she suspected that what lay behind the offer was Peter hoping to spend the afternoon with Letty rather than with his father. And she could hardly blame him for that.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Evie sat on the train heading north. A case of clothes, including her party dress, and a bag containing a handmade birthday present for Geraldine, a little thank you posy for Mrs Marsh for accommodating her, and a jolly red scarf she’d knitted for Billy, was on the luggage rack above her. In her handbag was Sue’s shopping list for the mill shop.

  ‘See what you can manage to carry, love,’ Sue had told her. ‘Start at the top and if they’ve got everything then stop buying when you’re spent up or you think you’ve run out of hands!’

  Jeanie had seen her off at Redmond station, on her way to work.

  ‘Give my special love to everyone, won’t you, love? And say hello to the old house for me. But don’t forget to keep quiet about where we are. We don’t want Hopkins’ man turning up on the doorstep at Pendle’s.’

  ‘No, Mum. I’ll be careful who I speak to, don’t worry.’

  The thought of anyone trying to get information about the Carters’ whereabouts from her made Evie nervous, but she was comforted by the thought that she would be among friends. After all, Brendan Sullivan knew where they all were and he’d obviously not spilled the beans.

  The carriage became full before the train had stopped at many stations, but Evie was in the corner next to the window and facing forward, which she felt was the best seat. The lady sitting opposite handed round a bag of peppermints and there was some chatting between the other passengers, but Evie preferred to keep herself to herself, nervous at being on her own. She glanced at her watch and counted down the time to the change at Manchester, when she would be within an hour of seeing Billy, who had promised to meet her train in Bolton. Her stomach did that customary flip of excitement at the thought of him.

  Billy had managed to swap shifts with one of his friends at work and was free the whole time Evie would be there, which was even better than she had dreamed!

  After her memory of all the waiting around when Billy had been meant to visit her, Evie could hardly believe it when she changed stations at Manchester without any difficulty, the train from Manchester Victoria was almost on time and she stepped out at Trinity Street station and looked up and down the platform for him. Quite a few passengers had alighted and there were small crowds of people blocking her view. She scanned the scene to right and left but there was no one who looked like Billy.

  Oh, please, let him be here …

  Then the other people started to move away and Evie’s stomach began to change from fluttering with excitement to the nervous churning that it had done that awful Sunday at Redmond station. Her eyes searched the platform again and she suddenly had a terrible sinking feeling.

  Then, just as she thought she might be out of luck a second time: ‘Evie! Oh, Evie!’ and he was running towards her, waving.

  Evie put down her case and her bag and ran to meet him. ‘Billy!’ She rushed into his arms and they held each other tightly for a long, long moment. ‘Oh, I thought you hadn’t been able to make it. Billy, I’m that glad to see you.’

  ‘And so am I, Evie, love. Sorry I’m a bit late. I didn’t mean to worry you. Mum started fretting over nowt and getting herself worked up, and I thought I’d never get to leave the house. In the end I just ran out.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now, and so am I, and that’s all that matters,’ Evie said, giving him another hug and kissing his cheek.

  ‘Let’s get your things. Would you like a cup of tea? It’s been a long journey for you.’

  ‘No, thank you. I’m all right. I had time to have a quick cup at Manchester, but I tell you what I would like, Billy, if it fits in with your plans.’

  ‘What’s that, then?’

  ‘I’d like to get a bag of chips and we can sit and share them in Victoria Park, just like we used to.’

  ‘Bit parky to be sitting out, isn’t it?’ he asked, but smiling because he, too, treasured the memory.

  ‘Chips always taste better in the open air, and it’ll give us a chance to catch up. I mean, look at you. New overcoat, is it?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Billy. ‘First time on.’ He brushed imaginary dust off one shoulder.

  ‘Come into money, have you?’

  And they laughed together as they left the station, Evie carrying the bag and Billy taking her case.

  ‘So tell me,’ said Evie, as they sat in the park and Billy unwrapped the layers of newspaper from around the steaming chips, ‘what have I been missing?’

  ‘Nowt, so far as I can see,’ said Billy. ‘It’s me what’s done the missing. I’ve thought about you every single day, and you look even prettier than I remember.’

  Evie blushed to the tip of her toes.

  ‘Really, Evie,’ he said seriously. ‘That Sunday when it all went wrong – I were that upset and it was hard to explain in a letter. I … I thought if you didn’t forgive me … if you took it badly that I’d let you down—’

  ‘But, Billy, it wasn’t your fault your mother was taken poorly. And it’s impossible to say if our plans are changed at the last moment when neither of us is on the telephone. I was disappointed – of course I was – but when you wrote so quickly to explain I did understand.’

  ‘You’re a good lass, Evie. One in a million.’

  ‘So how’s your mum now? No more bad headaches?’

  ‘She’s all right, thank you, Evie. She tends to get some queer ideas into her head but it’s nowt I can’t deal with.’

  ‘That good, then,’ said Evie, too polite to ask about the ‘queer ideas’.

  ‘Tell me more about this Pendle’s where you live, Evie. And how’s your friend Letty Mortime
r? I’m so glad you’ve found folk you like down there.’

  So Evie told Billy all about Letty and Miss Richards, and how Letty’s parents had been killed at the beginning of summer, but that she was being really brave about it, and then she went on to describe the Bonfire Night festivities and Robert’s Guess the Weight stall, and how he’d personally raised five shillings towards buying new curtains for the school platform.

  Then, as they dipped into the pile of chips, Evie told Billy about the success of Peter’s band on the evening, and all about ‘The Marrow Song’, which made them both laugh loudly, and how Peter had abandoned the huge marrow outside the school gate where by Monday morning, it had, as he’d predicted, disappeared without trace.

  ‘So there’s someone eating marrow for breakfast, dinner and tea,’ giggled Evie. ‘And they’re welcome to it. In fact, if they want any more I reckon Mum will be pleased to hand the wretched things over.’

  ‘I’m glad you didn’t bring me one up with you,’ chuckled Billy.

  ‘I’d have brought the whole box if I could have carried them,’ Evie replied, ‘but I’d have needed to take a wheelbarrow on the train. Oh, but I did bring something for you …’

  She wiped the grease off her hands with her handkerchief, then dug around in her bag of presents until she found the scarf she’d knitted for Billy, which was wrapped in reused tissue paper.

  ‘There. Just a little thing I made in the evenings.’

  Billy unwrapped the scarf and held it out. ‘Evie, it’s grand – fringes at the ends and everything. You are clever. Thank you, love.’ He wrapped it around his neck. ‘Looks smart with my new coat.’

  ‘You look lovely, Billy,’ she said, and leaned forward to kiss him.

  The kiss turned into a long one, and then it was followed by another, so that when they drew apart Evie looked a bit shy and her face was glowing.

  ‘I’ve wanted to do that since the moment we parted in July,’ whispered Billy.

  She nodded. ‘Me, too, Billy. Oh, I’ve missed you so much!’