On a Turning Tide

by Ellie Dean

  ‘But Gladys Bright is a very good and helpful union leader. I’m sure …’

  ‘You’re not to say nothing to no one about them stairs. Especially Gladys Bright, she won’t do nothing about it anyway, and none of us want trouble.’ Her little face crumpled as she burst into tears. ‘I knew I shouldn’t’ve come here.’

  Peggy reached across and took her hand. ‘Oh, Julie, I’m so very sorry. But you see I am on your side. I think I know what happened to Fanny last night, but unless you can be straight with me, then there’s absolutely nothing I can do about Mavis Whitlock and the trouble she’s causing everyone.’

  The girl’s eyes widened and she stopped snivelling. ‘You know about her?’ she breathed, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

  Peggy nodded and gave her a clean handkerchief. ‘Probably more than you’ll ever realise. I know she’s causing unrest and making some of the girls’ lives a misery – particularly Fanny’s, and I need your help to stop her.’

  Julie blew her nose and wiped her eyes and thought about this whilst she poured a second cup of tea. ‘Does Mrs Goldman know too?’ she asked eventually. ‘Only I saw you and her talking earlier.’

  ‘We both suspect something is very wrong,’ Peggy said carefully. ‘You see, nothing happens on that factory floor that isn’t seen by everybody. And yet Fanny went tumbling down those stairs, apparently unseen by anyone.’

  ‘This won’t get me into trouble with Mr Goldman, will it? Only I don’t want to lose me job.’

  ‘He’ll be very grateful to you for being honest,’ said Peggy, ‘and could very well reward you for it.’ She didn’t know that for sure, but a word in Rachel’s ear might bring about ten bob or so.

  ‘Me and Fanny are real good mates,’ said Julie. ‘I know what happened to her and how she earned a living before she got the job at the factory, but then I been down the same road as her, so we understand each other.’

  She took a sip of tea and then lit a cigarette. ‘We was all getting along really well until that woman come along and demoted Fanny, making her lose out on the extra ten bob a week. Fanny told me she’d somehow found out about her past from Loretta’s files and threatened to tell Mr Goldman, who would then sack her on the spot. But if Fanny paid her half a crown a week and didn’t make a fuss over being demoted, she’d keep quiet about it. Fanny said there weren’t nothing she could do, but she’d heard from Gladys Bright that the same sort of threat had been made to her.’

  Peggy simmered with fury but remained silent as Julie’s anguish poured out of her in a stream of words and more tears.

  ‘Fanny told me the Whitlock woman probably knew all about me being on the game before, so I had to keep me mouth shut or I’d be out on me ear too.’ She mopped up her tears again and drank more tea.

  ‘I dunno what got into Fanny last night, but she saw that bitch up in Mr Goldman’s office, and decided to go up there and have it out with her once and for all. We all saw her storming up them stairs and into Mr Goldman’s office, and it wasn’t long before they was yelling at each other and pushing and shoving. I don’t know how it happened, but Fanny was shoved by that woman out of the offices and onto the landing.’

  Julie took a restorative sip of tea and a puff on her cigarette. ‘Fanny was yelling blue murder about how Mavis had no right to snoop in Solly’s office and that she’d tell him about it the moment he came in – and that she’s been bullying everyone and making them pay ’er ter keep ’er mouth shut. That’s when Mavis pushed her, and she fell down them stairs.’

  Julie shivered. ‘She made the most awful noise, tumbling down there, and when ’er head hit the floor, it was like a ripe pumpkin being dropped on concrete.’

  Peggy felt sick, for she could well imagine the sound. ‘But why on earth did everyone keep silent?’

  ‘The bitch knew she’d done wrong, ’cos she ran down the stairs and tried to wake Fanny up. When it was clear Fanny was out cold she got scared and ordered someone to fetch an ambulance whilst she rang Mrs Goldman. Then she said that if anyone spoke about what had happened, she’d fix the time sheets so everyone’s pay was docked by at least two hours.’

  Julie’s hand trembled as she stubbed the cigarette out. ‘To be fair, none of us can afford to lose any pay, so we did what we could for Fanny before the ambulance and Mrs Goldman arrived, and then went back to work.’

  ‘Thank you, Julie, for being so honest.’

  ‘This won’t get me into trouble, will it?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Only if that bitch gets to hear I’ve been telling tales, me life won’t be worth living – and neither will Fanny’s.’

  ‘I can promise you she won’t know anything, and I’m very certain that when the night shift comes back this evening, there will be no sign of her.’

  ‘Really?’ The girl’s eyes shone with hope. At Peggy’s nod, she grinned. ‘Would it be all right if I had another bit of cake, then? Only it seems a shame to waste it.’

  Peggy pushed the plate towards her and managed a tight smile. Mavis would certainly be confronted over her wrongdoing, but she doubted she’d go quietly. And despite the promise she’d made to Julie, she very much feared that Mavis could not be got rid of quite so easily. She needed to get back to Rachel and have a council of war.

  She paid for the tea and cake and an extra slice for Fanny, which was placed in a brown paper bag. ‘I must get back to work, Julie,’ she said, pulling on her coat. ‘Please give Fanny my best regards when you deliver that cake.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Reilly,’ Julie replied. ‘I do feel better now for telling you.’

  Peggy hurried across the road to the hospital, to discover that Bertie was now keeping Rosie and Cordelia company, but there was no further news on Ron’s recovery.

  Returning to the factory, she clocked in and shed her raincoat and umbrella in her office, then went up the wooden stairs to talk to Rachel.

  Rachel listened as Peggy relayed the conversation she’d had with Julie. ‘I’ll certainly see she’s rewarded,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been on the telephone to Solly’s brother in London, and it made for a very interesting exchange. It seems he really has pulled a fast one by sending her down here – and now we’re stuck with her.’

  ‘You’ve got to be joking!’ gasped Peggy. ‘What she did last night was bordering on criminal. She’s damned lucky she didn’t kill Fanny.’

  ‘That’s as maybe,’ said Rachel, ‘but she’s as slippery as an eel and will somehow wriggle out of it.’ Rachel lit them both cigarettes and leaned her elbows on the desk. ‘It appears that she’s been up to the same sort of thing in London too, but when he told her he was going to sack her, she threatened to take a complaint to the union, accusing him of assault.’

  ‘What!?’

  ‘Like a fool, he’d had a bit of a fling with Mavis, which he ended when his wife found out and threatened to divorce him and take all his money. Mavis had had ambitions and never forgave him for breaking it off, so when he threatened to sack her, she got her revenge, accused him of assault and threatened to call a full strike and walk-out.’

  ‘No wonder he wanted to be rid of her,’ breathed Peggy.

  ‘He knew Solly was in a bind, so managed to pay Mavis off with a hundred pounds and the promise of getting her the job here. And like a soft fool, Solly agreed to take her on without asking any questions,’ said Rachel. She gave a deep sigh. ‘We’ll have to handle this very carefully, Peggy. We simply can’t afford a strike at this crucial point in that demob suit contract.’

  ‘Then what do you suggest?’ Peggy asked. ‘We can’t keep her on, not now we know what she’s capable of.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rachel admitted. ‘But Solly will have to be told, and I dread to think of the fallout it will cause between him and his brother.’

  ‘I’d better get back down there,’ said Peggy, noticing that work had almost stopped on the factory floor as the women gossiped amongst themselves. ‘It looks as if trouble’s already brewing.’

  ‘Keep me poste
d, Peggy. And thanks for taking the time to deal with Julie when you have so many other things to worry about.’

  There was a good deal of muttering on the shop floor as Peggy slowly made her way back to her office, and from the snatches of conversation she heard along the way, it seemed that news of Fanny’s altercation with Mavis had spread – which was worrying.

  ‘Fanny is being well looked after in the hospital and expected to be back at work tomorrow,’ she said as the women looked to her and fell silent. ‘The events of last night are being dealt with, so I’d appreciate it if you got on with your work.’ She turned to Winnie and Gladys. ‘Would you come into my office, please?’

  They followed her in and shut the door. She waited until they were seated, and then lit them both cigarettes.

  ‘If you don’t do something about that woman, we’re going to call a strike,’ said Gladys.

  This was what Peggy feared. ‘Mrs Goldman and I are dealing with it,’ she said firmly. ‘The night shift has refused to discuss what happened, so the gossip going round is merely hearsay, and not to be acted upon until we know for sure what we’re dealing with.’

  ‘We’ve heard enough to know that woman has to be got rid of,’ said Winnie, ‘and if a strike’s the only way, then so be it.’

  ‘Will you at least give me and Mrs Goldman the rest of the day to sort things out?’ begged Peggy.

  Winnie and Gladys conferred in murmurs and then nodded. ‘You’ve got until the end of the shift,’ said Gladys. ‘Then it’s an all-out strike.’

  Peggy watched them leave and sank back into her chair. This was turning into a nightmare day, and it had only just begun.

  18

  Rosie was almost at the end of her tether. The hours had ticked away and there was still no news from the recovery room. She’d started to worry about Cordelia too, and in the end persuaded Bertie to take her back to Beach View so she could sleep.

  Peggy had popped in with a bowl of hot stew from the factory canteen, Rita had come to sit with her through her mid-morning break, Danuta dashed in and out during her district rounds, and Frank had put in an appearance at midday before he was due to start his shift at the tool factory.

  Rosie was exhausted from stress and worry and the need to reassure everyone that she was all right and would let them know as soon as she heard anything from the doctor. Now she was sitting alone, a quiet island in the busy waiting room, glad of a moment’s respite and the chance to be silent and still for a while, and not have to talk, worry about everyone else and keep up a stoic front.

  Rosie had never been stoic – she wore her heart on her sleeve and was not ashamed to cry or give vent to her emotions – and at this moment she felt like running screaming through the hospital and beating down the doors of that recovery room to demand answers and see for herself what state Ron was in. How much longer would she be forced to wait? Just what on earth were they doing to him?

  She checked her watch against the large clock on the wall and heaved a sigh of frustration. Ron had been in recovery for over six hours, and as Fran had been ordered to another ward, she was absolutely in the dark as to what was going on.

  She stood up and began to pace, ignoring the surrounding babble of voices and crying of young children that seemed never-ending. Lighting yet another cigarette, she stood in the entrance porch and watched the rain coming down from a gloomy sky, and wondered if this torturous day would ever end.

  ‘Mrs Braithwaite?’

  She whirled to face Matron. ‘Is he awake? Is he all right?’

  ‘He’s still in recovery, but he’ll be moved to a side room off Men’s Surgical once he’s come round fully.’ Matron’s smile made her look younger somehow, and less fierce. ‘Mr Armstrong is very pleased with how the operation went, although it proved to be a very long and complex procedure.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘The impact of the blow to Mr Reilly’s spine crushed two of the lower vertebrae and left a hairline fracture in his hip.’

  ‘And the shrapnel?’

  Matron’s smile was positively beatific. ‘Mr Armstrong’s magnificent skills have once again saved the day,’ she eulogised, ‘but of course his humility would never allow him to boast about it,’ she added confidentially. ‘The shrapnel was needle-thin, but Mr Armstrong possesses a delicacy in his steady hands which is unmatched, and he was able to retrieve it.’

  ‘Thank God,’ Rosie breathed.

  ‘It is Mr Armstrong you should be thanking,’ said Matron firmly. ‘Without his skill and dedication, Mr Reilly would not have survived.’

  Rosie was sure God had something to do with it but didn’t argue, since the woman was clearly in awe of the surgeon. ‘So my Ron’s going to make a full recovery?’

  ‘We won’t know until he comes round fully,’ Matron hedged. ‘I suggest you go home and come back at six. All being well, Mr Reilly should be on Men’s Surgical by then.’

  ‘I’d prefer to stay,’ said Rosie.

  ‘As you wish,’ said Matron, ‘but I really don’t advise it. You’ll do him no good by wearing yourself to a frazzle.’

  ‘We were supposed to be getting married tomorrow,’ said Rosie, on the verge of tears. ‘And we’ve waited so long for that day. It doesn’t seem fair for this to happen now.’

  ‘I know, my dear,’ Matron soothed, ‘but life rarely is fair. At least he’s come through the operation, and plans can always be remade, you know.’

  Rosie nodded in agreement, but felt that she and Ron had been fated never to marry. She watched Matron bustle off, her starched apron crackling, and then caught sight of her reflection in a nearby window. She looked like some mad woman who hadn’t slept for a month and then been pulled through a hedge backwards. Deciding she would go home to bath and change and do something about her face and hair, she grabbed her coat and headed out into the rain. She didn’t want Ron waking up to see her like this – she’d scare the living daylights out of him.

  There had been strange comings and goings amongst the men and women on the shop floor throughout the day, and Peggy wondered if they were hatching some sort of plot, but when she’d questioned them, she was fobbed off with ‘gone for her tea break … gone to the lav … had to nip out to see to a fractious child in the crèche’.

  Peggy’s nose for trouble was twitching, and even though she’d warned Rachel about the ill-feeling, strike threats from the shop floor and the deadline which had been agreed, Rachel took it in her stride and went home to tell Solly in the privacy of their home so that she could calm him down before they returned to the factory at the end of the shift.

  Peggy was in her office going through the work sheets when Rosie telephoned to say that Ron had come through the operation and although she hadn’t been able to speak to him yet, it seemed everything had gone well. Feeling hugely relieved, Peggy promised to meet her at the hospital the minute she could get away.

  The mood in the factory was ugly as the end of the shift drew nearer, and as Peggy made her rounds of the machinists and cutters, she knew there was trouble ahead, and had absolutely no solution to it.

  Ten minutes before the end of the shift she saw Solly and Rachel enter the upstairs office. Delighted she was no longer alone to deal with this looming crisis, she went to join them.

  Solly was still simmering with rage, puffing on a cigar and stalking around the office like a bear with bellyache whilst Rachel sat quietly at the side of the desk. ‘She’s got to go,’ he rumbled. ‘I can’t afford a strike – not now – not until we’ve fulfilled this damned contract.’

  Peggy glanced across at Rachel, who lifted a shoulder as if to say she had no idea what to do about it either. They watched the hands on the clock move towards six and the end of the shift.

  ‘Oh, Lord,’ breathed Peggy as she looked down onto the shop floor. ‘You’d better come and see this.’

  The entire shift got to their feet as one, whilst the night shift came in and stood in solidarity with them. Every eye was turned to Mavis as s
he came into the factory and was met with absolute silence.

  ‘What are you all doing standing about?’ demanded Mavis.

  A heavy, ominous silence was her reply as they stood firm.

  ‘I’ll deal with this,’ said Solly, grim-faced and determined.

  ‘Wait,’ advised Rachel, grabbing his arm to stop him rushing off. ‘I have a feeling they’ve got a plan of their own to get rid of Mavis.’ She quickly switched on the two-way address system which the office used to make announcements to the workers down below and hear what was being said by them.

  Rachel and Peggy stood beside Solly at the large window that overlooked the shop floor.

  ‘You on the day shift, get out of here,’ snapped Mavis. ‘The rest of you, get to work, or I’ll dock your pay.’

  ‘We’re not moving until we’ve had our say,’ said Gladys, stepping forward with Winnie and the other two union representatives from the night shift. ‘We know what you’ve been up to and we aren’t going to stand for it no longer.’

  ‘I’ve done nothing,’ protested Mavis. ‘Fanny fell, and that’s an end to it.’

  ‘She didn’t fall,’ shouted one of the women. ‘We all saw you push her.’

  ‘Yeah,’ shouted another. ‘And we know you’ve been threatening people too, poking about in Loretta’s notes and taking money off them what can’t afford it.’

  ‘And what was you doing in Mr Goldman’s office last night?’

  Mavis drew herself up stiffly and faced them, although she no longer looked quite so sure of herself. ‘I … I’m in charge. I have a perfect right to go where I please.’

  ‘Are you going to do anything about her, Mr Goldman?’ shouted Winnie up to the window. ‘Only time’s up and we’re going on strike if you don’t.’

  There were mutters of agreement, and Solly spoke into the microphone. ‘Mrs Whitlock, my office – now.’

  Mavis was ashen-faced as she caught the ugly mood of the women and saw Solly’s furious glare. She ran up the stairs, ignored a tense and wide-eyed Madge, and hurried into Solly’s office.