A Daughter's Journe

by Anna Jacobs

  To Wilf, the van looked as good as it had sounded, but Charlie had told him to let Todd look it over before buying it, so he got permission from the widow to take it out for a drive. Todd had offered to check any vehicle they might be interested in. Eh, folk could be that kind and helpful. It did your heart good to have friends like that.

  If he ever managed to find a secure occupation, he’d help others, too, help them in major ways like providing them with real jobs, if he was lucky. Mind you, he’d had steady work for a while now, more than he could cope with on his own at times, so he’d been able to give odd jobs to others here and there, and that was a start. It always made him feel happy to see their faces light up.

  He was doing rather well these days, if he said so himself. Ha! He had to say it himself because his wife didn’t trust that this run of decent jobs would continue and she insisted you’d jinx it if you crowed too soon.

  He’d watched Enid grow more and more mistrustful of the future over the long years of searching for work and had hated to leave her to scrape by on her own at home while he went looking for work further away. Only he’d had no choice but to leave her, because he wasn’t going on the assistance.

  She had never known even when to expect him back because he took any and every job he could find. She said sometimes that he could have died while he was on the tramp and she wouldn’t have been aware of it. The best he could do to answer that was carry a piece of card in his pocket saying who he was.

  He brushed such memories aside. What good did it do to linger on the problems of the past? Watching Todd go over the motor and check the bodywork underneath for rust as well, he learned a point or two about what to be careful about when buying second-hand vehicles of any sort and he asked questions to make sure he understood it all properly. It was like that with everything in life, he’d found: you could often find something to learn if you kept your eyes open and weren’t afraid to ask for an explanation. You never knew when the knowledge might come in useful.

  Todd moved away from the van wiping the oil off his hands and smiling. ‘You’ve got a good bargain there, lad. Snap their hands off.’

  So Wilf went back to see the widow and paid her the full price she was asking, even then not needing to use all the money Charlie had thrust into his hand ‘in case’.

  ‘Shall I carry these into the house for you?’ He pointed out the tools in a couple of heavy-duty canvas bags that were still sitting in the back of the van.

  ‘You might as well keep them.’

  This was a bonus he hadn’t expected, so he slipped her another couple of pounds. ‘No, you take it, love. It’s only fair. They’re worth all of that.’

  Her voice wobbled as she said, ‘Thank you, Mr Pollard. It all helps because I’m not eligible for the old age pension yet. Everyone says you’re a decent man, which was why I did as Mr Willcox suggested and let you see the van first. And I’m glad I did.’

  He still hadn’t got used to people calling him ‘Mr Pollard’ instead of Wilf, and it always made him feel like an imposter.

  She stared at the bags and reached out to pat one, as if saying farewell to it, trying to blink away the tears trembling on her eyelashes. ‘Eh, my husband did some good work with those tools, but they’re no use to the family now. My son-in-law’s a good lad, but he’s a clerk. Got a nice secure job but he wouldn’t know a hammer from a saw, that one wouldn’t. Even I can bang in a nail better than he can.’

  It was as he was driving the van home that Wilf let himself face the next problem: Enid was going to be upset and he still hadn’t worked out how best to convince her what he’d done would be all right.

  He went into the house and began by saying, ‘Sit down a minute, love. I’ve got some good news for you.’

  He watched her sit next to the kitchen table, took a deep breath and said, ‘I’ve done what I said I might, borrowed money from Charlie and bought a van. A real bargain, it was.’

  ‘ What? Wilf, you never.’

  He nodded. ‘Aye. I did. That’s it outside. I haven’t just borrowed the van, I own it now. We own it, I mean. Come and look.’

  ‘I don’t want to look at it. You can just give it back to whoever you bought it from and return the money to Charlie. We’re in no position to buy a van. What if the work dries up again and we’ve no way of paying him back? What were you thinking about, Wilf Pollard?’

  Her voice had grown shriller as she spoke and she finished by hurling the tea towel at him.

  He batted it away, annoyed about her reaction, but trying to speak softly. ‘Look, love, it’ll pay for itself, that van will. I’ve done all the sums and—’

  ‘Don’t even try to convince me, because you won’t do it. You know we agreed never to get into debt. Never, ever! We managed to avoid that through all these years of hardship and we’re not starting now.’

  ‘I need a van to carry my tools and building supplies. I’m doing bigger jobs these days, ones that make us more money. The van will soon pay for itself. Really it will. I’ve gone through all the figures. I can show you them if—’

  Enid slammed one hand down on the table, making the cups rattle. ‘You’ve got a handcart to carry your stuff in.’

  ‘Enid, love, it’s not enough. The handcart won’t hold the bigger loads and it takes too long for me to get anywhere with it on foot. I hear about some good jobs further away from Ellindale and I could get a few of them easily if I had a van. I could earn more money, I know it. This is a lovely village to live in but it’s right at the top end of a road that goes nowhere else.’

  She continued to glare at him and he stared steadily back, forcing himself to keep a calm expression on his face, though some men would have given her a good telling off, or worse, for what she’d said.

  When she spoke again, her voice came out harshly, ‘I won’t let you do this to us, Wilf.’

  ‘You can’t stop me because it’s done. I need that van and it’s a bargain. I got Todd to check it out for me, just to be sure. I keep telling you, I’m not rushing blindly in. I know what I’m doing and Charlie agrees with me. The van’s in excellent condition, Todd says, and it’ll last for years.’

  She looked at him with tears welling in her eyes and starting to roll down her cheeks, even though she rarely allowed herself to cry. But he wasn’t going to give in on this, whatever she said or did, because he was right. She must have read that in his face, because she started sobbing loudly, leaning on the table and putting her head on her hands, wailing as if someone she loved had died.

  ‘Enid, love, don’t.’

  She looked up. ‘Don’t you call me “love”! If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this. You promised. No debts, ever. All those years. Some weeks I hardly ate a thing to keep from borrowing money while you were away. And now you’ve broken your promise. I’ll never trust you again if you don’t give that van back, Wilf Pollard, never.’

  He’d been prepared for tears but she was far more upset than he’d expected and when he tried to put his arm round her, she began screaming at him like a fishwife and shoving him away.

  He looked sideways and saw the children. ‘Hey. Stop that, Enid. You’re frightening the kids.’

  It took her a few moments to realise how terrified the two children were at this unusual behaviour. They’d retreated to the corner, cuddling up to one another, something they used to do when upset by their real parents. They were crying along with her, too, sobbing and hiccupping, though they couldn’t really have understood why he and Enid were quarrelling.

  She made a gulping sound, snapped her mouth shut then blew her nose and took a few deep breaths, before saying in a low voice, ‘Take that van back. Please, Wilf.’

  ‘No. I need it.’

  ‘That’s it, then. I’ll never forgive you for this, Wilf Pollard. Never. Even if it works out, it’ll be more by good luck than good management and you shouldn’t be risking it. I’ll not sleep a wink till every penny of that money is paid back.’

  So he put
his most secret dream into words. Surely she’d understand if he told her what this was leading to? ‘Look, Enid, I’ve learned a lot during these years of going on the tramp and taking on any job I could find. I’ve always been handy at making things, but I know enough now to start up a proper business one day – building whole houses, I mean, not just things like sheds. I’ve seen how it’s done, worked on every job there is, even if only as assistant to experts.’

  She looked at him as if he’d run mad.

  ‘Because of that, I was able to organise the renovations for Mr Carlisle up at Heythorpe House and he told everyone how well it turned out. Now Charlie’s asked me to build on that extra room and when I make a good job of it – and believe me, I will – he’ll tell everyone, too, and other people will ask me to do bigger jobs.’

  She didn’t say anything, just continued to glare at him.

  ‘The van is only a start, Enid. I’m going to be a proper builder and for that, I’ll need a workshop, a yard and all sorts of things before I’m through. And if I have to borrow more money to get them, I shall, because I know I can do it. That dream has kept me going for years. You’re not the only one who’s had to go hungry, you know. And I did some rotten, filthy jobs when I was on the tramp. But I learned so much.’

  She let out a laugh that was as harsh as a crow squawking. ‘Don’t be stupid. Doesn’t matter what you learned, you can’t turn yourself into a proper builder, however hard you work. You’ve not had the training, and you haven’t got a family in the business to give you a start.’

  ‘Have you so little faith in me?’ That surprised him.

  ‘It’s what the world’s like. People like us don’t get rich. Not honestly, anyhow.’

  ‘I shall. I’m really good with my hands, Enid, you’ve seen that many a time. And I’m good with my brain, too. I can do all sorts of bookwork now. I’ve even learned to do accounts.’

  ‘That’s not the point. We’re still ordinary people and I feel lucky even to have this. My mother never had as much.’ She waved one hand round the room. ‘A decent life and enough food on the table for us and our kids, clothes to keep us warm in winter. We can put a bit of money in the savings bank, maybe, because bad times come and go. But we won’t be able to do that if you get us into debt.’

  ‘Is that all you want out of life? This!’ He too made a sweeping gesture with one hand. ‘A two-up, two-down house with an outside lav? Why, we haven’t even got decent furniture, just old stuff that we’ve bought second-hand or I’ve made myself.’

  ‘It does the job. I’m not greedy. It’s the folk who try to overreach themselves who get into trouble. I’ve seen it time and again, but I never thought you’d do it to us.’

  Wiping her tears away with one hand, she went across to comfort the children and Wilf shut up. It was clear she didn’t understand, or more likely, didn’t dare believe in a better future after all the lean years of making do. Even he hadn’t realised how strongly it had affected her.

  He could only pray that she’d come round, because he wasn’t going to give up his dream. It’d kept him going during the long years of chasing work, that dream had. He’d had to sleep under hedges and in barns, as he tramped all over the north of England – because Enid had refused point-blank to leave the valley and move to the south where there was full-time work. Well, she wasn’t going to stop him doing this as well.

  Why, even Charlie Willcox believed in him and had invested money in him. That said something, didn’t it?

  After a few minutes of heavy silence, Enid took the children out to the lav and then put them to bed. She didn’t even bring them to him for their usual goodnight kiss, and that made him angry.

  He heard creaking in the room overhead, so she must have gone to bed, too. It might be best to let her simmer down a bit before he went up to join her, he decided, and made himself a mug of cocoa. But it went cold as he sat there thinking and a nasty skin formed on top, so he poured the last of it away. He couldn’t even settle to reading the newspaper.

  When he did go upstairs, he stopped dead outside the door of their bedroom, sucking in his breath in shock. His work clothes for tomorrow were piled up on the landing, together with an old blanket and his pillow. When he tried to turn the door handle, he found it locked.

  It was a simple lock he’d picked up somewhere for a few pence and they’d only put it on to stop the children walking in on them unexpectedly. He could have got his tools and opened the damned thing easily enough from this side, but he didn’t. He’d leave her be tonight.

  That wasn’t just to give her time to calm down; now he needed to calm down, too.

  She shouldn’t have done that.

  He’d let her have a day or two, if necessary, then insist they speak about this again. They never kept a quarrel going for long. At least they never had done before. Even if she didn’t agree with him, she’d calm down when she saw how much more he could earn.

  He might give her a little extra money to put in the savings bank. Surely that would make her feel safer?

  There was a sound behind him and he saw Peggy peeping round the door of the children’s bedroom.

  ‘Mammy’s been crying.’

  ‘I know, love. She’s upset about something. She’ll get over it.’ He gave the little girl a hug and tucked her back into bed beside her younger brother. Ronnie was fast asleep and didn’t stir.

  As Peggy snuggled down, he kissed her soft little cheek then stood looking down at the two of them, his heart full of love. What fine little creatures they were. He’d make sure they were well educated, give them hope for the future. They wouldn’t grow up in poverty.

  He went downstairs, carrying the things Enid had left out for him. You had to look at all the options, so he asked himself if he should give in to her to keep the peace. Was he really risking their future? Was he so likely to fail?

  He shook his head. No, he wasn’t. He had faith in his own skills and ability to work hard. She was wrong.

  He made up a makeshift bed on the hearthrug. Enid had pegged it herself out of clean rags but it was a dull, limp thing. Not want more? Of course he wanted more than this for his family.

  He lay in the darkness watching the embers turn slowly black as the fire died down. He had trouble getting to sleep because his thoughts were circling round in his skull like slow birds of prey.

  Why did his wife not believe in him? Had he ever let her down when he promised something? No, he hadn’t.

  He didn’t expect to get rich or to become a big, important builder, but he did expect to earn steadily and make a name for himself as a good sound builder of smaller houses. And one day he’d make his other dream come true: buy his own house, or better still, build it himself.

  He had to admit one thing, though only to himself: adopting the two children had been a mixed blessing. He loved them dearly, they both did, but Enid had become so obsessed by them, after over a decade of trying in vain to create a child of her own, that she was terrified of anything and everything that might hurt them.

  Eh, she’d stop the rain falling on them if she could.

  He turned over on the hard floor, not quite warm enough, wishing he had another blanket. In the end he fetched his overcoat from the hook near the front door and spread it on top of the blanket.

  But he woke with a start a couple of times during the night and couldn’t help rehashing their argument in his mind as he tried to see how he could have done better.

  He kept wondering how Enid would greet him in the morning – and what the best way would be to greet her.

  20

  R athley walked into Packman Alley quite openly that night, sure that no one he met here would dare say anything about seeing him, just as he saw other men of the better classes here and never mentioned it, whoever they were. It was an unwritten code, protecting them all.

  There was no light showing in the window of Number 3, but he pushed the door, expecting to walk straight in. However, it was locked.

  Afte
r rapping impatiently on the window, he saw the curtain twitch and waited, quite sure that he’d be let in. But the door wasn’t opened.

  ‘Hoy! Let me in!’

  ‘I’m not working tonight,’ Moira called from inside.

  ‘I’m not here for that. I’m here to talk.’

  ‘I’m not well and I—’ She started to cough and it went on for a long time.

  He waited for her to catch her breath and speak, deciding he wouldn’t be using her again. She was getting past it, still skilful, but he didn’t like the sound of that cough. Anyway, it was more than time she let him have the girl. As they’d discussed before, he was quite prepared to pay handsomely for the pleasure of being the first.

  He rattled the door, then went closer to the window. ‘Damned well open up, Moira, or I’ll break this down.’

  ‘Just a minute. I’m coming.’ As she spoke Moira looked at Tess, who was standing in the kitchen doorway. She made their get-away sign with one hand.

  Her daughter nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Moira let out a long sigh of relief. Tess was wearing trousers, as she did most evenings ‘in case’, though her shirt was getting a bit tight now. Better buy her another one tomorrow. The pawnshop would have something suitable.

  It was getting harder and harder to protect her daughter because Tess had grown so fast recently towards womanhood.

  The door rattled again.

  ‘Just a minute.’

  She watched Big Donny help Tess climb out of the kitchen window and shut it behind her, then go to sit quietly in his corner. Moira put one finger to her lips, asking for silence, and he nodded. He might be slow-witted, but he was strong and he would do anything to protect her. She reckoned she was the only person who’d been kind to him since his mother died.

  She didn’t often need his help, though, because she was careful not to upset people. Tonight she watched him sit down on the corner stool and relax against the wall, closing his eyes. She’d built up a fire, even though it was still summery weather, and the house was warmer than usual tonight. Well, she had been feeling ‘shivery’ all day. Donny didn’t feel well, either, poor thing. He was still getting over a cold.