A Woman's Fortune Read online

‘Ah, Geraldine. Nice to see you, love,’ said Ada, appearing from the kitchen. ‘Come in. I’ve just boiled the kettle.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Taylor, but I won’t stop,’ Geraldine said. ‘I only came round to drop these off for you.’

  ‘Thank you, love. Isn’t that kind of her, Billy?’ said his mother. She took the packet of biscuits without so much as glancing at them. ‘Are you sure you won’t have a cup of tea, love?’

  ‘No, thanks, Mrs T. I’d best be getting home. Bye, now. See you around, Billy.’ She beamed her glamorous smile at the Taylors, then turned and click-clacked down the street on her high heels.

  Ada looked put out and Billy followed her into the kitchen to find the teapot already under the cosy and three cups and saucers on the table.

  ‘Expecting a visitor, were you, Mum?’ he asked pointedly.

  Ada couldn’t hide her discomfort that she’d been rumbled though she tried to make the best of it. ‘I thought Geraldine might bring my biscuits round when I found I’d come home without them,’ she said.

  ‘You could have gone and got them, Mum. It’s only down the street.’

  ‘I know, but she’s so friendly – and works so hard at Mr Amsell’s … I just thought – she’s a lovely girl, isn’t she, Billy?’

  ‘Geraldine Sullivan is a right bonny lass, and a nice one, no one could deny that.’

  Billy sat back in a kitchen chair thinking his mother wasn’t cut out for scheming. If only Evie’s father were so easy to read, the Carters would have had a far smoother ride.

  That got him thinking about Evie’s letter. He’d write back tonight and tomorrow he’d look for a pretty card to send with the letter to congratulate Mrs Goodwin and Evie on opening for business. It wouldn’t be too long before he got to see them for himself and he couldn’t wait!

  ‘Looks a bit bare,’ said Evie, surveying the sewing room. The only relief from its plainness was a colourful card with a bunch of flowers on the front, which Billy had sent. ‘If only our fabric had arrived.’

  Sue had written to Marie Sullivan to ask if she’d choose some fabric in autumn shades for her from the mill shop near Shenty Street. She’d sent Marie a postal order to cover all her costs and Marie had been only too pleased to help, but the parcel still hadn’t arrived. Evie was feeling anxious about that – its absence seemed a big setback on top of her mother deciding not to work with them.

  Peter had made an ‘OPEN’ sign and hung it on the front door. They’d closed the door in the passage so that the house part was private but Evie thought they needn’t have bothered about that. She hadn’t imagined a stampede of customers this first morning of business, but nor had she thought she’d be sitting here twiddling her thumbs.

  ‘What you need,’ said Peter, ‘are a few props.’

  ‘Props? What on earth do you mean?’ asked Sue.

  ‘Like in a theatre. They set the stage with things to make it look like what it’s supposed to be. This looks like an empty room with a big table and chairs in it to me, so what you need is to make it look like a dressmaker’s. It doesn’t have to be real, it just has to look as if it is.’

  ‘Clever lad.’ His grandma was impressed.

  ‘When did you get to be so wise?’ laughed Evie, nudging her brother with her elbow.

  ‘We need fabric,’ said Sue, getting the idea at once. ‘It needs to look like we’re already working on summat – busy, like. Right, you three, go and find anything you can think of to drape about the place. But make sure it’s clean,’ she added as her grandchildren disappeared into the house.

  Half an hour later the room had been transformed. The bedroom curtains were folded neatly and stacked on the shelves like bolts of fabric, Jeanie’s best dress was displayed on a hanger hooked over the dado rail, and a pile of used paper dress patterns in their envelopes were arranged on a corner of the table opposite Sue’s sewing machine. Leftover trimmings and spare buttons that Sue had saved over the years were displayed on Jeanie’s pretty cake plate, and finally Sue’s workbasket was placed prominently in the window, open and with spools of thread cascading colourfully over the edges.

  ‘That’s more like it,’ said Sue, standing back to survey their handiwork.

  ‘And you can hardly see where I spilled the paint,’ said Robert, drawing everyone’s attention to the stain, just as they were beginning to overlook it.

  ‘Ideally I would place a pile of fashion magazines over that,’ said Peter seriously, ‘but we don’t have any.’

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the postman, wearing a uniform so like Billy’s that Evie’s heart gave a little skip. He pushed open the door and brought through a huge box wrapped in brown paper.

  ‘Mrs Goodwin? Delivery for you.’

  ‘Ooh, looks like Marie’s parcel, right on cue. Thank you,’ she said to the postman, and let the boys cut away the wrapping. ‘Save that brown paper and string. You never know when they will be useful,’ Sue, for whom wartime habits were still second nature, reminded them. Then they opened the cardboard box to reveal what Marie had come up with.

  There was much oohing and aahing from Evie and Sue over the printed cotton remnants and end-of-rolls that Marie had found. Sue had been a bit unsure about shelling out for fabric without specific commissions, but now she knew she’d done the right thing. These pieces hadn’t cost much at the mill shop but the quality was second to none.

  ‘Pete, Bob, get those bedroom curtains back upstairs, and we’ll put these pieces in their place,’ instructed Sue.

  She and Evie had no sooner finished folding the remnants into a pretty display when the door opened and Josie Lambert came in carrying a bag.

  ‘Thought I’d get in early before you get busy,’ she said. ‘I’ve left Nancy and Archie with my mother. Oh, the shop looks lovely. You’ve got a good eye, Mrs Goodwin. Do you think you could take in this frock I wore when I was expecting Nancy? It’s too good to throw away and I like the colour.’

  ‘I can completely refashion it for you, if you’d like,’ offered Sue, getting into her stride at once. ‘There’s yards in this front panel – what kind of dress were you thinking of …?’

  Evie let Sue do the talking but listened carefully to what she was saying, while Peter went to make a pot of tea, bringing through a cup for Mrs Lambert, too. All Evie’s worries about starting up the sewing business were evaporating. Sue looked happier than she had for weeks and Evie saw how confident and in control she was at being her own boss again.

  Then she thought about the arrangement Billy had made to come to see her on Sunday and she felt happiness bubbling up inside her. The fabrics had arrived and they were beautiful, she and Sue had their first customer, and Billy was coming to see her – it was all just about perfect.

  Jeanie arrived home from Redmond early in the afternoon as usual. She came into the workroom to see how Sue and Evie were getting on, and was impressed with their efforts and also with the fabrics Marie had chosen for them from the mill shop.

  ‘Not thinking of joining us after all?’ asked Sue without rancour.

  ‘I’m getting on fine at Frederick’s, thank you,’ said Jeanie with a big smile. ‘Oh, but I can understand why that Summers woman thought it a big job. You should see his study! Luckily he was out all morning at an auction so I was able to get on in the sitting room at least.’

  ‘He trusts you with the run of the place and his precious things, then?’ Sue enquired. She’d yet to meet Frederick Bailey and Evie suspected that for some reason Sue hadn’t formed a very high opinion of him so far, despite the low rent he was asking.

  ‘And why wouldn’t he?’ said Jeanie. ‘I’ll get on and make us some sandwiches. I got a bit of cheese from Mrs Sutton on the way home so they won’t be just salad today.’

  ‘The day’s getting better and better,’ said Sue as Jeanie went to make their lunch.

  ‘Mum’s in a very good mood,’ said Evie. ‘She’s a lot more cheerful altogether these days.’

  ‘Mmm …’ S
ue replied noncommittally, taking her tailor’s shears to Josie Lambert’s maternity dress.

  Michael didn’t come home to eat the sandwiches and Sue tutted that he must have gone to get some chips and a pie at the Red Lion, which cost pennies that they didn’t have. The boys went off to play in the field at the back of the market garden with Martin Clackett, leaving Sue and Evie in peace to work. Evie watched and learned as her grandmother turned Josie Lambert’s vast garment into a swathe of fabric, which Evie pressed and then Sue recut into a stylish new shape. Evie machined the seams as directed and the afternoon passed, Evie feeling more settled than she had in weeks.

  They were interrupted by Mrs Sutton from the village store, who came to ask about having some curtains made.

  ‘I’ve seen a few people reading your notice, Evie,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if you weren’t rushed off your feet before the summer’s out.’

  ‘We’ll cope,’ said Sue, winking at Evie. ‘Now, are you wanting them lined, Mrs Sutton? I would recommend it …’

  ‘Two customers already,’ beamed Evie when Mrs Sutton had gone.

  ‘It’s a good start,’ Sue confirmed. ‘What d’you reckon? Will we manage without your mum?’

  ‘I still wish she was in here working with us but we’ve had a lovely day, just the two of us, and Pete was such a help putting the finishing touches to the shop.’

  ‘And you’ve also got Billy coming to visit next weekend – something for you to look forward to, love.’

  ‘He’ll be at Redmond station on the first train of the morning, and he’s getting a train back in the late afternoon, so we won’t have very long, but he wants to see us all and the village, too.’

  ‘He’s a grand lad,’ said Sue. ‘We’ll make sure there’s more than vegetables for his dinner,’ and Evie hugged her.

  Michael was woken by someone shaking his arm. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the glare of the sun through the greenhouse windows. He must have dozed off for a moment in the heat … Distantly he could hear the sound of children playing. What time was it now …?

  ‘Michael! Michael Carter! What do you think you’re doing, asleep on the job?’

  Mr Clackett was leaning over him, looking furious.

  ‘Oh, Mr Clackett, it’s the heat in here … made me a bit sleepy, like.’

  ‘Heat? Beer, more like. I can smell it on your breath, and your clothes smell like the inside of the Red Lion. You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?’

  ‘Well, it was only a couple of pints. It’s thirsty work in these glasshouses—’

  ‘Couple of pints! And how is beer better than good honest water when I’m paying you to pick tomatoes? I don’t hold with drinking, Michael, and I certainly don’t hold with slacking. If you’re paid to do a job I expect you to do it. If you don’t then I’d rather employ someone else. There’s a ton of veg to be picked and you’re not doing your share.’

  ‘I’m that sorry, Mr Clackett. I must have dozed off for a minute, that’s all.’

  ‘It’s two hours since you left at lunchtime. It’s not fair if you take your wages but don’t do the hours.’

  ‘Two hours? Oh, surely not,’ said Michael, trying to jolly his boss out of his outrage. ‘Can’t possibly be that long. Tell you what – why don’t I stay a bit later to make up? I’ll do that as a favour, seeing as there’s so much to pick.’

  ‘A favour! You’ll do it to make up for sleeping away half the afternoon at my expense, never mind any favours.’

  ‘Oh … that’s what I meant,’ said Michael sheepishly.

  ‘And let me tell you this. I’m a fair man and I don’t hold with taking and not giving in return. If I find you asleep on the job again you won’t be working here any longer.’

  ‘No, Mr Clackett. And I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘If it does it will be the last time,’ Mr Clackett reiterated, shaking a finger at Michael. He turned and walked away, muttering, ‘Favour indeed …’ and the sound of his heavy boots faded into the distance, leaving Michael with a dislocated feeling.

  The afternoon was silent, save for the hum of bees among the tomato plants. The children’s voices he had heard earlier had faded away at some point and he wasn’t sure what time it was or exactly where he’d left off what he’d been doing. He pulled himself upright and stretched, feeling seedy and weary, and regretful of his pints at the pub.

  Still, Mr Clackett hadn’t actually sacked him. And there was no reason why anyone else should hear of this …

  When Michael came in at the end of the afternoon he looked worn and weary, and he grumbled that he had a headache coming on.

  ‘Hard day, love?’ sympathised Jeanie as Michael sat down at the table. ‘Never mind, I’ve a delicious vegetable stew for you.’ She laughed lightly because she made the same joke every evening, but today Michael could barely raise a smile.

  ‘I’ve had it up to here with vegetables,’ he said.

  ‘What d’you mean, love? You’ve not been there more’n a few weeks, and Mr and Mrs Clackett have been very generous towards us with the rejects. I don’t know what we’d have done without all this food.’

  ‘Aye, you’re right, of course, Jeanie, but I don’t know as the job suits me all that well.’

  Peter was scowling into his stew and Robert began bouncing on his chair as if he wanted to say something but his mouth was zipped shut.

  ‘What do you mean, Michael?’ Jeanie looked anxious. ‘It’s only picking vegetables – there’s nothing about it to suit or not suit. You just do it.’

  ‘I don’t know … might be looking for another job.’

  ‘That’s exactly what Mr Clackett said!’ burst out Robert, then clapped a hand over his mouth as if to silence himself as Peter gave him an almighty kicking under the table.

  ‘What!’ shrilled Jeanie. ‘Boys, Evie, take your stew into the yard, please,’ instructed Jeanie, and there was a scraping of chairs and a gathering of bread, spoons and bowls as they did as they were asked.

  ‘All right, you two,’ said Evie, when they’d made themselves as comfortable as they could in the shady backyard on a rotting garden bench and an upturned flowerpot. She put her bowl of stew down on the ground. ‘What have you heard? Pete?’

  ‘We were playing out the back of Clackett’s with Martin late this afternoon and we overheard Mr Clackett giving Dad a warning. It sounded like he’d spent the afternoon asleep in one of the sheds instead of doing his work. Mr Clackett said he’d sack him if he did it again.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Robert, his eyes huge with the importance of his news. ‘And Mr Clackett said Dad wasn’t to go to the Red Lion at dinnertime and then go back to work the worse for drink ever again.’

  Evie raised her hands to her face in horror and tears sprung into her eyes. The thought of Dad losing this job so soon after the last one, especially now the family were working so hard at making a new life, and with everyone in the village having been so friendly, was more than she could contemplate. People might not be nearly so kind if the Carters got a reputation for being unreliable. It could even mean she and Grandma Sue would lose potential customers before they’d even got their business started. That would be so unfair. Evie pulled the boys into her arms, and as the row started indoors, they huddled together wishing they were back home on Shenty Street.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Evie walked as quickly as she could to the railway station in Redmond. Billy’s train wasn’t due for half an hour but already she couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of seeing him. Her stomach was doing a little dance of anticipation. She’d chosen to wear a pretty cotton frock that Sue had made her and which Billy had once told her looked nice.

  Redmond station had only two platforms so there was no problem for Evie finding out where Billy’s train would be pulling in. In the way of all stations it felt draughty, even on this hot July day, so Evie decided to sit in the ladies’ waiting room. There were a couple of other women in there but when the northbound train
was announced they left, so Evie had the place to herself, which was just as well as she was finding it impossible to sit still. She got up and walked about the room, then sat down again, swinging her legs, frequently glancing at her watch all the while until she made up her mind not to, to make the time go quicker.

  At last the southbound train was announced and she jumped up and hurried out. With a shrill whistle it approached, gigantic wheels turning, the familiar smell of soot thick in the air and smoke engulfing the platform. The train halted, steam hissed fiercely, and then slowly the fug cleared and Evie looked up and down, smiling widely, ready to greet Billy. Doors were opened and a few people climbed out. No sign of Billy yet. No doubt he’d be collecting his things off the luggage rack, making sure he hadn’t left anything. A few doors were slammed and Evie focused on those that remained open. He’d be here any second now …

  Then the stationmaster went down the train shutting the doors. Evie’s heart started to thud and she tried not to panic as she began to walk quickly along the platform, looking in at the carriage windows. Where was Billy? What was going on? He’d said he’d be on the ten thirty train. She checked her watch again but she knew she wasn’t mistaken. This was his train, but where was he?

  When she got to the last carriage the guard leaned out, seeing her looking worried. ‘You all right, miss?’

  ‘I was supposed to meet a friend on this train but he doesn’t seem to be here,’ she said, thinking she might disgrace herself by bursting into tears of disappointment like a little child.

  ‘Maybe your friend has missed this train. There’s another southbound in forty minutes. Why not get yourself a cup of tea and wait for that one?’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Evie, though she thought it unlikely that Billy would have missed the train if he could possibly have helped it. What was more important than their meeting up? They’d planned the whole day so carefully: going back to Pendle’s café for dinner, which was going to be special and not just vegetable stew. And then afterwards a lovely walk around the village and by the pretty stream that ran through the woods bordering the fields at the back …