by Nancy Revell
Christmas and New Year passed in a haze of sheer hard work as Charles and Henrietta threw back-to-back parties. ‘The girls’, as they were referred to, came back for the Christmas holidays from their finishing school in Switzerland. Pearl glimpsed them both a few times during their stay, but the two sisters never acknowledged the servants unless they needed something. Watching them come back from a horse ride with their father one day, Pearl was again struck by how much she looked like them, especially the younger girl. It was a similarity Agatha had commented upon.
Velma seemed to be in a bad mood the whole of the Christmas and New Year holidays and only cheered up once Charles had gone off to some country she’d never heard of and the girls went back to their school.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tuesday 7 April
‘So, how was Charlotte?’
Rosie forced herself back into the here and now, her mind having slipped off on a rare daytime reverie about Peter. Taking a sip of tea and looking at her squad all sitting around the table, it took Rosie a moment to reply.
‘That’s a hard one to answer, Martha … If I’m honest, I really don’t know.’ A frown creased Rosie’s forehead as she spoke.
‘But you’ve just spent the last three days with her?’ Angie asked, confused.
Rosie laughed a little sadly. ‘I know, Angie. You would have thought I’d have some idea how my own sister was after spending the entire weekend with her. If you’d asked me the same question a year ago – even just six months ago – I could have answered it without hesitation. But Charlotte’s getting to that age, I am learning very quickly, which can be rather tricky.’
Gloria, Polly, Dorothy, Angie and Martha all looked at Rosie but were not able to offer her any kind of insight. They had all been fourteen-year-old girls once, but none of them could recall it being a particularly troublesome time. But then again none of them had lost both their parents on the same day when they were just eight years old, and none of them had spent the intervening six years residing permanently within the walls of a very posh, but very isolated all-girls boarding school. They had lived all their lives at home and by the time they were fourteen, they had left school and started work.
‘What do you think is the problem?’ Again the question was from Martha.
‘That’s what I’m struggling with.’ Rosie looked at Martha. ‘I just don’t know. I’m not sure there is a problem, but she just seems to have changed.’
‘In what way?’ Dorothy asked, taking a sip of her tea.
‘I guess she just doesn’t seem as carefree or happy as she usually is. I’ve asked her if anything is wrong but she just keeps saying she’s fine. But she says it in such a way as if she’s anything but. I had a quiet word with her form teacher when I went to pick her up, but he said Charlotte was getting on well, her work was still of a high standard and she wasn’t getting into any trouble …’ Rosie’s voice trailed off.
‘What did she say when yer told her you’d got hitched?’ Angie asked.
Rosie didn’t say anything.
They all looked at her.
‘You didn’t tell her, did you?’ Polly guessed.
The women looked at their workmate and then back at their boss.
Rosie sighed. ‘I know I should have. There just didn’t seem to be the right moment.’
Looking up to the corrugated ceiling of the yard’s cafeteria, Rosie sighed again. ‘And then when there was a right moment, I suddenly got worried she might think that my marriage to Peter would somehow mean I didn’t love her, that I might not bother with her so much—’
‘Like Peter might be more important to you than she is?’ Polly suggested.
‘Yes,’ Rosie said. ‘That’s it in a nutshell. And because she’s been acting so strangely lately I just didn’t want to do anything that might add fuel to the fire. Honestly, it’s times like this I really wish our dad was still about. He’d talk some sense into her. He was always so good with her when she was small.’
‘It seems to be a week for dads,’ Polly said. ‘Or rather the lack of them.’
Dorothy looked at Polly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, I shouldn’t really say anything …’
‘Go on,’ Rosie urged, glad to swing the attention away from herself.
‘It’s Bel,’ Polly said. ‘She’s becoming totally obsessed with finding out who her real da is. She was telling me last night that she’s sick of her ma not telling her anything and she’s going to find him for herself.’
The women all looked at Polly, questions on their dirt-smeared faces.
‘She reckons he’s someone Pearl courted when she was in service,’ Polly explained. All the women knew Pearl, or at least knew of her, and thought that Polly was probably being kind by using the word ‘courted’.
‘She’s even talking about going knocking on the doors of houses where she thinks her ma might have worked. I tried to be as unenthusiastic about the whole idea as I could, but it didn’t seem to deter her.’
Dorothy was just about to ask a question when Hannah came over and sat down with a heavy sigh. She appeared to be in an unusually unsettled mood.
‘Blimey, who’s got your goat today?’ Angie said.
‘Oh, it’s nothing.’ Hannah opened up her satchel and got out her sandwiches.
‘It’s clearly not “nothing”, Hannah, so spit it out!’ Dorothy commanded.
Hannah had her sandwich in her hands but didn’t take a bite.
‘It’s Mr B. He says there’s no more overtime.’
They all looked at each other. No one noticed Rosie and Gloria exchange loaded looks and shift about uneasily in their seats.
‘Well, if there’s no overtime, there’s no overtime,’ Martha said.
‘There’s always overtime,’ Hannah said.
‘Maybe there’s always overtime when you ask Mr B, but there isn’t really any overtime,’ Martha persevered.
Now everyone was looking at Martha.
‘Talk about speaking in riddles!’ Angie gaped at Martha.
‘Look, Hannah,’ Rosie decided to interject. ‘Perhaps it’s worked out for the best. I’m sure there will be overtime in the future. Especially the way things are going. But perhaps this might be a good time for you to have a little rest. You’ve been working away like a little beaver for ages now. I think everyone would agree with me that you need to slow down a bit.’
There was a general nodding of heads as well as mumbled agreements.
‘You could go out with young Olly,’ Polly suggested. ‘You like each other – why don’t you spend some time with him, doing something nice? You could get him to treat you to tea at the Bungalow Café? It’s really cosy in there. Then you can have a walk along the promenade … Look out to sea.’
No one said anything, but they all knew that this was where Tommy and Polly had gone on their first date together. He had taken her on the back of his motorbike and they had stopped there for a pot of tea and a shared slice of cake. Everyone was quiet for a moment.
‘Actually,’ Hannah suddenly perked up, sitting up straight, ‘I do also have some good news … My aunty Rina’s got a new job!’
‘Really?’ Rosie’s voice was high and a little over the top, causing everyone to look at her.
‘That’s interesting!’ Gloria jumped in. ‘What’s she doing?’
‘Well,’ Hannah said, looking to Rosie and then at Gloria, ‘the strangest thing happened. My aunty Rina was shopping along the Villette Road one afternoon and this old woman comes up and starts talking to her.’ Everyone was now listening intently. ‘She said something like, “I hear yer know how ta bake?”’ Everyone immediately burst out laughing at Hannah’s attempt at speaking in the local dialect.
‘So, what did yer aunty say?’ Angie was sitting forward, hanging on to Hannah’s every word.
‘Knowing my aunty, she probably denied it and said she was no better than anyone else. But whatever my aunty said, this old woman wasn’t having any of it, and
she said that my aunty Rina sounded like she “dinnit like to blow her own trumpet”.’
‘She didn’t want to boast that she was really good?’ Angie translated.
‘Yes, that’s basically it.’ Hannah smiled across at Angie. She had never actually worked with Angie – she had left for the drawing office before Angie had swapped the controls of a crane for a welding rod – but Hannah felt as though she had got to know her over this past year.
‘So, why did the auld woman say that ta yer aunty?’ Angie continued.
‘Because,’ Hannah again looked at Rosie and Gloria, ‘she wanted her to work in her cafeteria making cakes and pastries.’
‘Cor! That’s good, isn’t it?’ Angie exclaimed.
‘It is really good.’ Hannah looked at all the women. ‘Especially as, if I’m to be totally honest, my aunty wasn’t doing very well as a credit draper.’
‘So, where’s this auld woman’s café?’ Angie asked, needing to hear the end of the story.
‘Well, that’s where there is a twist in the tale,’ Hannah said, this time glancing across to just Rosie. ‘The old woman’s name was Vera and she runs the café on High Street East, just up from the south dock.’
‘What? Not the one miss and her fella used to go to?’ Again it was Angie filling in the blanks.
‘And where Jack and Arthur used to go for their bacon butties?’ Dorothy looked at Gloria.
‘Yes, Vera’s!’ Hannah exclaimed. ‘So, we’re all going to go there and eat whatever my aunty Rina or the old woman has baked that day and drink tea.’
‘That’s great news,’ Rosie said. ‘I’m surprised Vera didn’t say she was taking on someone new. When did your aunty start working? Can’t have been long ago because I was in there the other week.’
‘She’s just started so I thought we’d let her settle in before we all go there “en masse”, as it were.’ Hannah chuckled at the thought of them taking over the place. ‘But she seems to love it. The old woman sounds like a bit of a character, but my aunty comes back happy every day, so that can only be a good thing, don’t you think?’
Hannah threw another curious look over at Gloria and Rosie as everyone smiled and concurred that it was, indeed, a very good thing.
‘When did you go and see Basil then?’ Gloria asked Rosie as they walked back to their work area ahead of the rest of the squad.
‘Yesterday,’ Rosie said quietly. ‘He actually seemed relieved. He knew why Hannah needed the overtime. I didn’t realise he lives at the bottom end of Villette Road and his neighbour is one of Rina’s customers who seems to think buying stuff on tick means you never have to actually pay up. He said everyone round his way knew that Rina was a bit of an easy touch and there were more than a few taking advantage of her kind nature.’
Gloria tutted.
‘Anyway,’ Rosie continued, ‘Basil was more than happy to tell Hannah there was no overtime, which there isn’t. The poor bloke’s been coming in early and making out there’s work to do when there isn’t. He’s managed to get the extra hours past the paymaster’s eagle eye, but I’d bet my weekly wage that he’s not been claiming for the overtime he’s been doing.’
‘Looks like Rina isn’t the only soft touch then,’ Gloria chipped in.
‘Mm, and I don’t think we’ve managed to pull the wool over Hannah’s eyes either.’
‘I think you might be right there,’ Gloria said. ‘Well, as Angie would say, “All’s well that ends well.”’
‘True,’ Rosie said, ‘but that still leaves us with finding solutions for Martha’s, Dorothy’s and Angie’s problems.’
Gloria glanced at her friend. Hannah wasn’t the only one looking tired. Only, unlike Hannah, Rosie’s need to work flat out was not about keeping the debtors at bay, but her heartache.
‘I don’t want to sound like a defeatist,’ Gloria said. ‘But I don’t think there is a solution to any of their secrets. We can’t stop Angie’s mum having it off with some bloke. And we can’t undo the fact that Dorothy’s mam’s a bigamist. And we certainly can’t change who Martha’s real mother was.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ Rosie said a little cryptically.
Gloria laughed. ‘What’s going on in that complex head of yours?’
Rosie felt a sudden stab in her chest. Peter had often used the same words when he wanted to know what she was thinking.
‘The way I look at it,’ Rosie said, pushing back thoughts of Peter, ‘Angie’s mam and Dorothy’s have both made their beds, but that doesn’t mean others have to lie on that bed with them. The problems they have are their own problems – not their daughters’. If their misdemeanours are exposed, which they might well be regardless of Miriam, then they are going to have to be the ones to deal with the backlash. Not Angie or Dorothy.’
‘But,’ Gloria interjected, ‘that’s just the point – they’re both going to get caught in the cross hairs if they’re living under the same roof.’
‘Exactly!’ Rosie said. ‘Angie and Dorothy will get dragged into the whole mess. And in Angie’s case that could actually be quite dangerous.’
Gloria nodded grimly.
‘So, the most obvious solution is …’
Gloria’s face lit up.
‘Get them both out o’ the road?’
‘Exactly,’ Rosie said.
‘Perhaps we should put it in both of their heads that you and I needn’t be the only ones to be moving house. Perhaps it’s time for them two to get themselves a nice little flat or bedsit? They could afford it on both their wages and all the overtime they’ve been doing.’
Gloria suddenly hooted with laughter as she imagined the squad’s ‘terrible two’ living together. ‘I’m not sure whether that’s a brilliant idea or a dreadful one.’
Rosie chuckled.
‘The lesser of two evils, I think.’
‘What are you both laughing about?’ Dorothy demanded as she nudged herself between her two workmates.
‘Eee, nosy parker!’ Gloria elbowed Dorothy playfully, hoping she hadn’t caught the tail end of their conversation.
‘So, Glor,’ Dorothy’s voice had become serious, ‘how much longer is Jack gonna have to stay up in Scotland? He’s been gone an age.’
‘He’s hoping to get back soon.’ Gloria tried to sound upbeat.
‘That’s what you said last time and the time before that. Don’t they even give him the odd weekend off?’ Dorothy dropped her voice. ‘I thought you were going to tell Miriam? Especially now you’re rid of Vinnie.’
‘It’s difficult. He’s having to work every waking hour at the moment. We’re trying to work something out.’ Gloria hated lying. More than anything, though, she didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the pretence that Jack was coming back.
‘Come on, you two.’ Rosie had been walking along quietly next to them both. ‘Enough gassing. I need you two up on the main deck.’
‘Talk about slave driver,’ Dorothy huffed. ‘The hooter’s not even sounded out.’
As if by command the klaxon then bellowed out the end of the lunch break.
As the noise of the yard started up again, preventing any more chatter, Dorothy and Gloria headed towards the metal gangway and onto the injured cargo vessel they had been working on solidly since it had been dragged into the dry dock a few weeks ago. As Rosie watched them walk away, Gloria looked behind her and mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
Rosie had heard the women talking occasionally about Jack and the length of time he had been gone; Polly had even mentioned Bel was getting concerned that Hope wouldn’t recognise her father if she didn’t see him soon. Rosie knew that Gloria was going to have to make up a convincing lie – and sooner rather than later.
‘I don’t know what I’m going to do about Jack,’ Gloria said as she bustled about the kitchen, making a cup of tea. Rosie was sitting in the lounge-cum-dining room, bopping Hope about on her lap.
‘I know,’ Rosie shouted through. ‘I heard Dorothy quizzing you.’
Gloria came back in with two cups of tea and put them both down on the coffee table. ‘Dorothy means well,’ she said, taking Hope off Rosie. ‘She’s such a romantic. She’s desperate to have me and Jack and her gorgeous goddaughter here. Together. One big happy family.’ Gloria gave Hope a kiss on the cheek.
‘I know she means well,’ Rosie said. ‘But knowing Dorothy, she’ll keep on asking.’
‘I’m going to have to think of something.’ Gloria went back into the kitchen with Hope and got her bottle.
‘What does Jack say?’ Rosie asked.
‘He’s being remarkably positive.’ Gloria sat down with Hope, the little girl now clinging to the bottle and gulping down her milk. ‘He says that at least he’s building ships and doing his bit, and that we’ll find a way to be together, it’s just going to take time. He keeps telling me that we are actually incredibly lucky to have found each other after all these years, and how terrible it would have been if that had never happened.’ Gloria carefully reached over so as not to squash Hope and took a big slurp of tea.
‘What is troubling him, though, is Helen.’
‘In what way?’ Rosie asked, looking at Hope, who was still sucking on her bottle but now with less fervour.
‘He’s been writing to her once – sometimes twice – a week. Whenever he writes a letter to me, he writes one to Helen, but she’s not sent him back even one reply. Not one. He doesn’t say as much but I can tell it’s breaking his heart … I know no one at work likes Helen, and to be honest there was a time when I couldn’t abide the woman myself, but she really does – or rather did – adore Jack. I used to think Jack didn’t really know what his daughter was like – that, like most parents, his child could do no wrong, that he was blind to the fact she was actually quite a horrible person, but now I know more, I really do think it’s all a bit of an act.’
