‘No, Helen, you sit down and I’ll make it.’ He put the kettle on. ‘Have you had your tea?’ he asked.
She shook her head.
‘I’ll make you something,’ he said.
‘There’s only bread and cheese on the shelf.’
‘Ah, that’s my speciality. The lads down the station love my cheese on toast, especially with mustard. Don’t suppose you’ve got any of that? No? Never mind.’
While she ate, he talked about the incendiary raid a few days before. ‘It’s the worst sort of attack for us: dropping incendiaries; setting buildings on fire. We’ve been run off our feet. Did you get many around here?’
‘Just a bit of damage, the ARPs are really good at dousing them.’
‘Is there a shelter near here?’
‘There’s one on Church Street, but I didn’t go. I just hid under the bed.’
‘Helen! You have to go in a shelter, you know that. What would Jim say?’
She didn’t answer him, instead she pointed at the brown envelope. ‘There’s something else in there for me, isn’t there?’
Frank looked uncomfortable. ‘Eh… yes…’
‘What is it?’
‘Just a couple of things from Jim’s locker at the station. I thought you’d want to have them.’
She held out her hand, but he didn’t give it to her. ‘What’s the matter?’ she said.
‘You should look at them on your own. I’ll leave you to it.’
She was immediately wary. ‘Is it something awful? Will I be upset?’
‘It’s not awful, but…’
She eyed the envelope, wanting desperately to know what was in it, but frightened that its contents might send her back to that dark place she inhabited in the days after Jim’s death. ‘Frank, stay while I look at what’s inside, please.’
There was a little blue leather box, probably from a jeweller. She opened it and there was a lovely necklace, a drop pearl on a silver chain.
‘I think it was his Christmas present to you. He bought it the week before, said he’d leave it in his locker, in case you might find it at home.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.
Then she pulled out a photograph – Southport, on the sands, their honeymoon. It was blowing a gale, whipping up her skirt, and her hair in her eyes. It was just after that that Jim pulled her close and kissed her and she could feel his touch on her lips even now. She held back her tears as she smiled at the two of them together. They thought they had their whole lives in front of them. She set it aside and the sadness settled on her. She stared at her hands, twisted her wedding ring, forgot where she was, forgot about Frank.
When he eventually spoke, she looked startled.
‘Helen, do you not think Jim would be shocked to see you living like this, on your own in an empty house with no food?’
Helen covered her face, suddenly ashamed. He must think she was stupid, hiding herself away in this run-down house.
‘Are you going to stay here?’ he asked.
She couldn’t answer that, not yet. Her life was at a crossroads. If she got a steady job, she would stay in the house. If she didn’t, she would have to go back home to her mam. And then, there was one other frightening and wonderful possibility: if she was carrying Jim’s baby she would go back to her mother and devote her life to bringing up the child.
‘Helen, are you all right?’ Frank was looking anxious. ‘Look, if you want to stay here you could buy a few bits of furniture with the money from the lads, but don’t go on your own, they might try to overcharge a woman. Just let me know and I’ll go with you.’
‘Would you do that for me?’
‘Of course, Jim was my mate and I’d do anything for his missus.’
‘Thanks, Frank.’
‘And will you promise me to fill in the pension forms?’
She knew he was right. ‘I promise.’ She reached again for the envelope. ‘Is there anything else?’
‘There is, but I’ll go before you read it.’
‘No, wait.’ It was a piece of folded writing paper. She opened it and caught her breath, it was Jim’s handwriting. Before she could stop herself, she had read the opening. My Darling Helen. She closed her eyes. ‘What is this, Frank?’
He looked embarrassed. Had he read it?
‘Some of the men have written a letter to their wives or sweethearts in case… in case they are killed doing their duty. It was something the lads who had fought in the Great War did and when this lot started… they wanted to leave some words of comfort.’
‘Did you do one?’
‘No, I… well, I’m not married, am I?’
Helen’s hands shook as she folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. ‘I think I’ll just put it away for now and look at it later when… you know?’
She went with him to the door and they stood in the dark. ‘I’m glad you came to see me, Frank, and thanks for bringing me the things from Jim’s locker. And thank the lads for me, tell them I’m grateful.’
She sensed him move towards her, felt his hand fleetingly touch her arm. ‘If you need me, leave a message at my lodgings, you know where I am.’ And then he was gone, leaving behind that familiar smell that reminded her of Jim – the smell of smoke from smouldering fires.
She fastened the pearl drop around her neck and looked again at the honeymoon snap. Jim had made love to her for the first time the previous night and there she was, laughing in delight, a woman at last, satisfied beyond pleasure. Finally, she came to Jim’s letter.
My Darling Helen
If you are reading this, I know I’m no longer there to look after you and you are alone. I loved you from the moment we met at the dance and, when we married, I was the happiest man in the world. I want to tell you that you are beautiful and clever and strong and don’t ever let anyone say otherwise. Follow your instincts and make a life for yourself without me. I would love to say I’m somewhere close looking after you, but you know I’m not much for angels and religion. Maybe all the love I had for you will stay around you, and in the quiet moments, you’ll feel that love again.
Your loving husband
Jim x
Chapter 7
The week Helen spent at Fenner’s Fashion Agency was just what she needed. She never dreamt that work could be so enjoyable. She had got to know Pearl not as an absent godmother, but as a friend. Then there was Anna who had not only taught her the tricks of the modelling trade, but her happy nature had lifted her spirits every moment she was in her company.
Late on Friday afternoon, when Helen and Anna were tidying the dressing room, carefully rehanging and covering each individual garment, Pearl came in with their pay packets. ‘Mr Fenner was really pleased with our hard work this week,’ she told them, ‘and he’d like to take us out for our tea.’
Helen and Anna looked at each other in surprise. ‘He likes to reward people,’ Pearl explained. ‘So, can you come?’
The girls were all smiles. ‘Yes, please.’
‘That’s great. Now, Helen, will you go to Mr Fenner’s office, he wants to have a word with you.’ Helen’s smile disappeared. ‘Oh, don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong.’
She knocked on the door and his bellowing ‘Come in!’ made her jump. He was behind a huge desk, leaning back on his chair, a gold chain across his waistcoat, thumbs tucked into the pockets.
‘Now then, lass, you’ve done well this week, stepping in like you did. And Pearl tells me you’re out of work.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, I like helping young people when I can, so I’m offering you a temporary job. You’ll know our office girl is likely to be off work for a few weeks and Pearl tells me you’re bright enough to pick up on what needs to be done. So, what do you say?’
Helen couldn’t believe it. ‘Yes, sir, I’d love to come and work here.’
‘Good, good. Now sometimes there’s a chance of overtime.’ He hesitated. ‘In the evenings… entertaining clients. Would that
be all right?’
Helen nodded. ‘I could do that.’
‘Splendid, splendid! Now, are you coming out for tea with us?’
‘Oh yes, thank you for inviting me.’
‘When she returned to the dressing room, Pearl was waiting. ‘Well, did you take the job?’
‘Of course, thanks, Pearl, it’s a godsend.’
‘No, you’re doing us a favour, stepping in. Now let’s go for our tea.’
Mr Fenner drove them down to Albert Square where he parked the car.
‘Have you been in a Lyons’ before?’ asked Pearl. Anna had, but Helen admitted that she hadn’t and didn’t add that she had never been out for her tea anywhere, never mind the very grand-looking Lyons’ Corner House. The place was packed, but they were able to wait inside for a table. The noise of a hundred people, at least, filled the room with constant chatter. Then there were the waitresses in their black and white uniforms rushing here and there taking orders or carrying large trays full of plates. ‘They call them Nippies, because they’re so fast,’ said Pearl, ‘but they’re always very attentive to their customers, especially the ones who come in regularly, like Mr Fenner.’
Once they were seated, they were given menus to choose from. Helen was already feeling anxious, but Pearl came to her rescue. ‘The fish and chips is always very good with tea and bread and butter. Why don’t you have that?’
They ordered and the conversation got going and she was glad that the others had plenty to say. Pearl would draw her out a little by asking her a question or her opinion and she managed to say something, but most of the time she was content to listen. The meal tasted lovely and Mr Fenner insisted they all had jam roly-poly for pudding because, he said, ‘It’s nearly as sweet as you girls.’
By the time they came out of the restaurant, a full moon hung over the town hall roof and Mr Fenner offered to give them a lift home. Anna said she was only a ten-minute walk away and she thanked him for her tea and said goodbye.
‘I’ll be off as well,’ said Helen. ‘There’s plenty of moonlight to see my way home.’
Pearl wouldn’t hear of it. ‘No, no, we’ll take you home. Besides, I want to see where you’re living now.’
Helen was about to protest, but she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. She only hoped that Pearl wouldn’t want to come in. She needn’t have worried; the car pulled up outside the house, she thanked them for everything and went to get out. Only she couldn’t find the door handle, so Mr Fenner went to open it from the outside, and he took her arm to help her out. As she waved goodbye, she saw a movement in the upstairs window next door and there, caught in the light of the moon, was Ada watching her.
It had been an exhausting week at Fenner’s, living on her nerves, frightened to make a mistake in front of the clients. Throughout the meal she had felt the beginning of a headache and all she wanted now was a hot water bottle and her bed. As soon as she lay down, she felt the tiredness sapping her strength. She winced a little at a cramp and moved the hot water bottle against her side. Her head was mussy and the dull ache that had nagged inside her all day grew stronger. She wiped away the tears on her cheeks then lay on her side with her knees drawn up to ease the cramps. When she awoke in the early morning she knew at once that any hope she might be pregnant had gone. ‘I’m so sorry, Jim, so sorry.’
*
After two weeks in the office at Fenner’s Fashions, Helen had learned the duties of the junior clerk: filing, addressing envelopes, making tea, tidying the showroom and generally helping Pearl. She soon realised that Pearl did most of the work while Mr Fenner spent the mornings in his office talking on the telephone and the afternoon in some hotel bar with his cronies. She liked wearing the neat, navy blue dress and matching shoes she had to wear. ‘Mr Fenner insists on us having a uniform,’ Pearl told her, and Helen was glad of it because she didn’t have any clothes that were smart enough for the job.
At home, too, she was more settled. Frank had gone with her to the second-hand furniture shop in Collyhurst and she chose a small table with four chairs and a dressing table and wardrobe. They’d seen better days, but Frank haggled a bit and she got them for a good price. He even came round when they were delivered and helped the man carry them inside.
‘I’ll put up a few more shelves in the kitchen for you, next time I get a Sunday off,’ he told her. ‘I’ve a mate who’ll let me have some wood.’
Somehow, she was managing when people were around, but coming into an empty house and spending the evening alone was hard. The anguish of losing Jim and knowing there would be no baby intensified her loneliness. She tried to keep busy at the weekends, wandering around Newton Heath market and buying some remnants to make cushions or curtains. Soon the little house was cosy and welcoming and all hers.
It was a Thursday afternoon in early February and only Helen and Pearl were in the office, Dorothy having gone home early because she was worried about her mother. Helen was making a list of unpaid invoices when she looked up and saw Pearl staring at her.
‘Is everything all right?’ Helen asked.
‘Do you like working here?’ said Pearl.
‘Yes, I do. I’m really grateful that you gave me the job. Are you going to tell me Rita’s coming back to work?’
‘No, she’s still not right. You’ll be here a bit longer.’ She smiled. ‘Do you remember, Mr Fenner told you that there’d be some overtime?’
‘Yes, something to do with entertaining clients?’
‘Hmm, that’s it. Well, he has something arranged for tomorrow night. Would you be able to help out?’
‘Yes… I could. Is it here in the showroom?’
Pearl laughed. ‘No, it’s in a hotel. Mr Fenner organises supper evenings for gentlemen.’
‘So, what would I be doing?’
‘Mostly waitressing – handing out drinks and serving the buffet. Could you manage that?’
‘I think so – as long as I can leave to catch the last bus home.’
‘Oh, we’ll see you get home safe, don’t worry. Well, that’s settled then. Now, you’ll need to look your best, let’s go and see if we can find a nice dress for you to wear. There’ll be something on the returns rail in the packing room. The retailers often send garments back if they have a flaw, like a seam undone or a missing button, but we can sort that.’
They went downstairs to the basement room and Pearl went straight to the rail and pulled out a striking, cerise cocktail dress and held it up. ‘I love this,’ she said. ‘It’s absolutely perfect for your colouring. The hem’s come down at the back, but that’s easily fixed. What do you think?’
Helen thought it was beautiful, she could imagine the sort of woman who would wear it, someone with poise and plenty of money. ‘It’s lovely, but I don’t think I could wear it, it’s not a dress for a waitress, is it?’
‘Maybe not, but Mr Fenner likes to show off his stock. Who knows, one of the clients might be taken with it and put in an order. Come on, let’s see what it looks like on.’
In the dressing room, Helen stepped into the dress and Pearl edged the garment up over her hips and on to her shoulders – it was a close fit. When the zip was pulled up Helen turned to the mirror. It clung to her curves and the structured bodice gave her a cleavage she didn’t know she had.
‘Oh, my goodness.’ She turned to Pearl. ‘I can’t wear this.’
‘Course you can. You wore similar dresses when you modelled for us.’
‘I know, but this is different. I’m going out in it, like it’s my dress and… and what will people think?’
Pearl laughed. ‘Helen, there are women who go out dressed like this every evening in the city. You’ll see them at the theatre, in restaurants and dinner dances. This is how wealthy women dress and you’re getting a chance to experience that.’
‘Well, I suppose no one on the bus will see it under my coat.’
Pearl shook her head and smiled.
*
Helen had never been in a hotel bef
ore. She had no idea what to expect, or how to behave. The doorman tipped his hat and called out, ‘Good evening, ladies,’ as they came through the doors of the Grosvenor Hotel on Deansgate. How grand it seemed with a sweeping, red-carpeted staircase, huge vases of fresh flowers, glittering lights. There were members of staff smartly dressed in maroon uniforms with silver buttons; some behind the long desk helping guests, others carrying luggage in and out. A woman rushed past her in what was surely a mink coat. A group of army officers were laughing and talking loudly. She could hardly take it in.
Pearl took her arm. ‘Come on, we’re going up to the Connaught Suite.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a private function room,’ but Helen didn’t understand that either.
The suite was empty except for half a dozen girls lounging on sofas. There was an excited scream as she came in and Helen was amazed to see Anna rushing towards her. ‘I can’t believe it’s you. I didn’t know you did this sort of thing.’
‘I don’t and I’m a bit worried. I’ve never been a waitress before,’ said Helen. ‘You’ll have to keep an eye on me in case I get something wrong.’
Anna looked puzzled for a moment then said, ‘All right, I’ll do that.’
Pearl clapped her hands. ‘Now listen, girls, the gentlemen will have finished dinner in the dining room and they’ll be here shortly. Remember to keep glasses topped up and later, when supper arrives, take the sandwiches round the room. If a gentleman asks you to sit with him at the card tables or on the sofas, that’s allowed, and so is dancing later in the evening. I’ll give you your wages now so you are free to leave any time after ten o’clock.’
Helen was surprised when Pearl gave her two pounds. ‘Why have you given me all this money?’
‘Mr Fenner likes these evenings to go well and he likes to see the girls happy. No long faces allowed.’
‘Pearl, I’m not sure about this. What was all that about sitting with the men? That’s not waitressing.’
‘Don’t worry, Helen, you don’t have to sit with them if you don’t want to. Just tell them you’re busy taking round the drinks, and give them a nice smile when you say it. Now go and hang up your coat and put on a bit more lipstick.’
The Girl from the Corner Shop Page 6
