by Posy Lovell
“You’re a good man.”
Bernie and Teddy nodded at each other in a manly way. Louisa thought they both really wanted to hug but it simply wouldn’t have crossed their minds to do so.
“You can go today if you like,” she said. “Matt’s expecting you. And there are trains from Charing Cross until evening.”
Bernie looked amazed. “And it’s all official? I don’t need to worry about being spotted or arrested?”
“All official,” Teddy said.
Ivy threw her arms round Bernie and hugged him.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” she said. “I’ll come to Charing Cross with you, shall I? See you off.”
“I’d like that. I’d like you both to come.”
“I can’t,” Louisa said, genuinely sorry. “I’ve got a meeting with the gardeners later.”
“What about?”
“Wages,” Ivy said, a flash of anger in her eyes. “Remember, Bernie? I was quizzing you the other day about what you’d been paid.”
Bernie chuckled. “I do remember and I reckon Mac needs to watch his back, with you two on the warpath,” he said.
Ivy looked up at the clock on the church tower.
“In fact, you need to get going, Lou,” she said, nudging her.
Louisa nodded. “Then I’ll say good-bye, Bernie. But when you’re settled, I shall come and visit. It’s time I went to see my parents and met my new baby niece.”
“I’d like that.”
They hugged, and Louisa turned to Teddy. “Shall I walk with you across the green?”
He nodded.
“I can never repay your kindness,” Bernie said, clasping Teddy’s hand. “And I am so sorry about your son.”
Teddy smiled. “Live life,” he said. “That’s the best way to repay me.”
“I shall.”
Feeling emotional, Louisa led the way out of the churchyard and across the green. As they reached the gates of the Gardens, they paused.
“Do you know the way back to the station?”
Teddy nodded. “I do.”
To Louisa’s surprise, he reached out and took her hand. “I can’t imagine not seeing you so frequently,” he said. “I’ve very much enjoyed getting to know you.”
Louisa felt her cheeks flame again, but she was thrilled with his words.
“I feel the same.”
“Would it be all right if, perhaps, we went walking again? Perhaps at the weekend?”
Louisa’s smile was so broad it felt like she might split her cheeks wide open.
“I’d like that very much.”
Tentatively, Teddy leaned forward and kissed Louisa lingeringly on the cheek. She breathed in the smell of him for a second before he let go. How extraordinary to feel so connected to a man, after everything that had happened with Reg. How extraordinary and how wonderful.
“Then, Louisa Taylor, I will see you very soon.”
He tipped his hat at her, and warm with happiness, Louisa watched him walk away.
Chapter 20
Floating on air, Louisa headed to the break room, where she’d arranged to meet with all the female gardeners. She hoped enough of them would get on board with her efforts to secure them pay equal with the men’s because she knew this sort of fight was always easier as a team.
To her surprise—and delight—every single female gardener showed up. Except Ivy, of course, who was off at Charing Cross saying good-bye to Bernie but had promised to be back as soon as she could. There were so many women there that Louisa decided it would be better to go outside, so they all gathered under one of the large trees and sat on the grass while Louisa talked. Dennis was there, too, which helped Louisa argue her case.
“We do exactly the same work as the men,” she said. “In some cases, we’ve been here longer and have more experience working with plants than they do. They’re only being paid more because they are men.”
“It’s because they’re breadwinners, though, isn’t it?” said one gardener, called Harriet. She looked worried as she spoke. “They need to support their families.”
Louisa nodded. “Yes, many of the men who work here are the breadwinners in their homes,” she agreed. She looked round at the women sitting on the grass in front of her. “Can I just ask for a show of hands? How many of you are the only one earning in your household?”
About half the gardeners put their hands up.
“And how many of you would be in real trouble if you weren’t bringing in a wage?”
Now everyone raised their hands—including Harriet. Louisa smiled.
“We all need money. Some of us are single, some of our husbands are off at the Front—or back with injuries and unable to earn. Some of us live with our parents and need to contribute. Someone’s personal circumstances aren’t relevant here. What matters is the work they’re doing and how much they deserve to be paid for that work.”
There was a murmur of agreement.
“But what can we do about it?” another woman called from the back of the group. She was a similar age to Louisa, bringing up three children alone, and was lean and wiry and strong as an ox. “What if they think we’re just causing trouble and they sack us all?”
“That’s the thing about working together,” Louisa said. “They simply can’t sack us all. If we’re all in agreement, we can present a united front to Mac and the bigwigs. If they say no, then we’ll move on to something else, come up with a different plan, but for now we all need to be speaking with one voice.”
“Hmm,” the woman said, obviously not completely on board.
Louisa looked at her.
“I don’t know you, not really.” She searched her memory for the woman’s name. Frannie, that was it. “But we’ve worked together a few times, haven’t we, Frannie?”
“We have, yes.”
“I know how hard you work. I know how fast you dug out the new vegetable patches, and how strong you are.”
Frannie looked pleased. “It needed doing and I always think it’s best just to get on and do something.”
“Do you think Dennis here could have done it faster?”
“Not a chance.”
Dennis looked offended, and then shrugged.
“She’s got a point,” he conceded, grinning. “Fran’s faster than I am.”
“And could he have done it better?”
“Nope. It is what it is. Either it’s dug or it’s not. There’s no better about it.”
Louisa wasn’t sure that was true, but it didn’t matter. “Right. So you dug it faster, and just as well as Dennis could have?”
“Yes.” Frannie raised an eyebrow at the woman sitting next to her, obviously not sure where she was going.
Louisa was doing some sums in her head.
“And yet for that morning’s work you got paid one shilling and sixpence, while Dennis got two shillings.”
Fran’s eyes widened. “Well, when you put it like that.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not.”
The women all started talking again and Louisa shushed them.
“We’re doing men’s work while they’re away. If the gardeners all came back from the Front tomorrow, they’d pay them properly so we know they’ve got the money.”
“We can’t all go and demand extra pay, though, can we?” Fran was still being bullish.
“No, that would just get them defensive, I think.”
“So what, then?”
“I’d like to write a letter, spelling out our requirements, and have all of you sign it. Even you, Dennis, if you’re willing? And the other men if we can get them on board.”
“What are our requirements?”
“To be paid the same as the male gardeners for doing the same job.”
“What about the
new recruits?” someone called.
“I think there should be a probationary period, perhaps, when they’re paid less, but then after a few months they should earn the same as the rest of us.”
Louisa was enjoying this. She’d missed the focus of being a Suffragette while the war was on, and Reg’s reappearance had reminded her how unfair things were for women. She couldn’t divorce him, much as she wanted to. She couldn’t vote while he—drunken layabout that he was—could. Good as she was at her job, she knew she was just taking care of it while the men were away, and that after the war she’d be out on her ear. It all made her want to scream with frustration and anger. But she wouldn’t scream. No, she’d fight for her rights instead.
She looked at the women gathered in front of her.
“Who is with me?” she said.
Slowly, all the women raised their hands—even Dennis stuck his mud-encrusted fingers up in the air. Louisa clapped with excitement.
“Excellent,” she said. “I’ll get the letter written up this evening, and I’ll circulate it round for you all to sign. We should get cracking on this as soon as we can. I don’t know about you, but I’m finding it hard to give my all at work, now that I know we’re not valued as highly as our male colleagues.”
The women all chuckled and muttered in agreement. Dennis looked slightly shamefaced and Louisa felt proud of him for coming to the meeting and being on their side. He was a good lad. Just as Jim was. She wondered, as she always did when she thought of Jim, what he was doing now and if he was safe. She hoped that he was—and not just for Ivy’s sake.
Speaking of the devil, Ivy appeared. She was slightly red faced and had a smear of train dust on her cheek, but she looked happy.
“Sorry I’m late. Had to see a friend off on a train,” she said to the group, but really to Louisa. Relieved that Bernie had gotten off all right, Louisa waited for Ivy to sit down on the grass with the others and opened her mouth to carry on . . .
“Hello, girls. What’s all this?” a voice said. Louisa looked round and her heart sank as she saw Lady Ramsay trotting across the lawn toward the group.
“Just a staff meeting,” she said, hoping Win wouldn’t stay. But Win looked round at the other women in delight and waved hello to several of them. How did she know so many of the other gardeners already?
“Wonderful,” she sang. “Charming.” She sat herself down on the grass next to Harriet. “What are we discussing?”
“Wages,” said Harriet.
Louisa rolled her eyes. She didn’t want Win involved, because it was finding out she was just a volunteer that had led to this whole thing. And somehow she didn’t think someone with a title and two houses would be interested in their struggle to make ends meet. She tried to meet Ivy’s gaze to see if she felt the same, but Ivy was watching Win with a mixture of amusement and affection.
“What about them?” Win looked curious.
“We’ve just discovered that we all get paid less than the men, for doing the same job,” Fran explained.
Win blinked and looked up at Louisa, realization dawning in her eyes. Louisa braced herself for Win to announce that she didn’t get paid at all for her charming job, darling. But instead Win gave her a small nod as if to say, “That stays between us.”
“You get paid less than the men?” Win said to Fran. “Well, that’s simply ridiculous, my darling. You’re keeping this place running and, let’s face it, it’s hardly an easy job, is it? I’ve only been here five minutes and I’m exhausted.”
Despite herself, Louisa laughed. She’d sorely misjudged Win. She’d assumed that because of her nice dress, neat hair and cut-glass accent that she wouldn’t be one of them. But she really was. Ivy had been right about that, too.
Louisa grinned at Win. “I thought I’d write a letter, spelling out our demands, and have everyone sign it,” she told her.
Win made a face. “Really?”
“Well, I think it makes sense to be clear about what we want.”
“Absolutely. I just think we should take some action, too.” Win got up and went over to where Louisa was standing in front of the group. “You know who I’ve always admired? The Suffragettes.”
A disapproving whisper spread among the gardeners.
“They burned down the tea pavilion,” Louisa said in an undertone to Win. “Not many of the gardeners here approve.”
Win smiled and addressed the group again.
“Oh heavens, I know they’ve made some mistakes. Haven’t we all, darlings? But we all know about them, don’t we? We all know what they want and we’re still talking about it, even though they’ve been quiet recently.”
She was right. Louisa and Ivy smiled at each other. Who’d have thought someone like Win would talk this way?
“What I propose is some direct action,” Win was saying.
“I ain’t burning anything,” said Fran, looking mutinous.
“Absolutely not. No, I propose something a little more . . . mathematical.”
“Mathematical?” Louisa was confused but Win looked gleeful.
“At the moment, you’re being paid three-quarters of what the men get, right?”
“Right.”
“So, why not do three-quarters of the work?”
“What do you mean?” Harriet said. “Just down our tools?”
“That’s precisely what I mean. You work twelve hours a day, don’t you? So I propose you stop after nine. Why should you work for the extra quarter of a day that, to all intents and purposes, you’re not being paid for?”
Louisa stared at her. This was brilliant. Simple, but brilliant. A hubbub of voices started up as the women all discussed it. Louisa could tell from the tone that they were on board.
“Send your letter,” Win said. “Explain what we’re going to do. And then we’ll take action.” She turned to the group once more and they all quietened down to hear what she had to say.
“We’ll win this fight,” she said.
As the women cheered and surrounded Win, asking questions, Ivy found her way over to Louisa.
“Bloody hell,” she said, looking at the women gathering round the new recruit.
“Bloody hell is right.” Louisa was amused and unexpectedly pleased that Win had got involved. “I never for one minute expected that.”
They both laughed.
“Bernie got on the train all right, did he?”
“He was quite excited I think. Looking forward to getting his hands in the dirt again.”
Louisa thought of the well-cared-for churchyard and grinned. “He’s been doing enough of that at St. Anne’s. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I felt so awful about everything.”
“It’s worked out better in a way because of your involvement,” Ivy pointed out. “If you’d not given him the feathers, he’d still be worried about being found out every day. And perhaps someone else would have exposed him anyway.”
Louisa made a face.
“I suppose,” she said. “It’s not going to be plain sailing down in Kent. Matthew said not everyone was thrilled at the idea of him employing a conchie, official or not.”
“Bernie’s tougher than you think.”
“I hope so.”
They looked round as Win approached.
“Darlings,” she sang. “What an exciting meeting. I’m so glad I came.”
Louisa grinned at her. “We’re glad you came, too. It’s a great idea to work three-quarters of a day to make our point.”
“Well, I just thought to myself, ‘What would Mrs. Pankhurst do?’ and it came to me in a flash. I think the Suffragettes are simply wonderful women.”
Louisa and Ivy exchanged a look again, but this time Win caught it. She was sharp as a tack, that one.
“What?” she said. “What aren’t you telling me?” She looked from Ivy to Louisa
and back again, and she gasped. “Are you Suffragettes? How thrilling.”
Quickly, Louisa steered Win away from the other gardeners who were still milling about.
“Shhh. We keep it quiet here because Mac’s not keen after the pavilion fire. We don’t want to lose our jobs.”
“But you are Suffragettes?”
The women both nodded.
“We were,” said Louisa. “Things have got rather quiet now, with the war going on. I’ve got a meeting I go to regularly, though there’s not much action happening.”
“Could I come? To a meeting?”
“I don’t see why not.” Louisa suspected her Suffragette friends would adore Win immediately. “Ivy’s got more involved with the Federation over in East London.”
“With Sylvia?” Win talked as though she was a close personal friend of Mrs. Pankhurst’s daughter. “How marvelous. I hear she’s doing some rather exciting things over there.”
Ivy nodded, her eyes wide with wonder at everything Win was saying. “You should come and see.”
“I’d like that.”
Louisa watched the two women forming a bond and found she was pleased for them both. Ivy’s family life was chaotic to say the least and having older women she could rely on could only be a good thing. She smiled. Perhaps having an older woman around could be good for her, too. She was pleased to be back in contact with her own mother but the memory of her siding with Reg would always hurt, and she missed having someone to talk to who could share experiences and offer guidance.
She smiled at Win.
“I think you’re going to be a very good addition to the Kew Gardens Girls,” she said.
Chapter 21
Ivy was smitten with Lady Ramsay. She’d never met anyone quite like her before. It wasn’t just that she was posh and well-educated—Ivy had met lots of women like that through the Suffragettes. And it wasn’t that she cared about what Ivy considered to be “normal people.” After all, Sylvia Pankhurst ticked all those boxes. It was more that Win was all those things and, on top of it, she was an absolute hoot. She was just such fun to be around: willing to learn everything there was to know about gardening, not afraid to get her hands dirty, and curious (“I’m horribly nosy, darling,” she would say) about everyone’s lives outside of Kew.
