Riches to Rags

by Beryl Matthews

  Breakfast had been prepared and Jenny forced herself to eat, although it was an effort. There was a tense day ahead of her and she would need all of her strength. She was so anxious that her insides churned most alarmingly, making her hesitate before swallowing a mouthful of scrambled egg in case she was sick.

  After about fifteen minutes she gave up, leaving a plate of crumbs where she’d crushed the toast in agitation. After casting an apologetic glance at the butler, she opened the door and nearly bumped into the housekeeper.

  ‘Ah, Miss Winford, I shall ask one of the maids to help you pack.’

  ‘There’s no need for that. I won’t be taking much.’ The last thing she wanted was someone looking over her shoulder as she sorted out what to take with her.

  Mrs Charlton looked doubtful. ‘You must remove only your own personal belongings. I shall be checking the room to make sure you haven’t taken anything that doesn’t belong to you.’

  Jenny bristled at her tone. ‘I’m not a thief, Mrs Charlton!’

  She turned and ran up to her room, closing the door with a satisfying thump. That woman had always had a snooty air about her. It was clear she was enjoying seeing the Winfords’ downfall. Wandering over to the window, she gazed out at the garden, now dressed in the last of the autumn shades as it prepared for the long winter ahead. A dry sob shook her slender body. What trials and hardships would this winter hold for her? Did she have the courage to go ahead with the plans she’d made? Would it be wiser to go to live with Albert Greaves for a while in order to give herself more time to plan her escape? But if she did come under his control there might not be a chance to get away in the future. Did she even have a hope of succeeding with this crazy plan of turning herself into a servant?

  With hands clenched she spun away from the window. What choice did she have? It was either make a life for herself or go to live with Albert Greaves. No! That was impossible. She hadn’t known that he had a sister, but if she was anything like him, Jenny wanted nothing to do with her.

  She scrambled on her hands and knees to reach to the back of her wardrobe and, after much tugging, pulled out an old battered suitcase. This would be perfect to take with her when she left. Her father had given her this when she’d been ten. He’d taken her to the seaside for two days: a rare treat and it had been so wonderful. The two had walked along Brighton seafront, explored the shops in the small alleys, and eaten fish and chips out of newspaper.

  She ran her hands over the case and wiped a tear away as it splashed on the worn leather. That had been such a wonderful time, and she would always cherish the memory … Jenny shook herself out of her reminiscences. She had to get on. Her mother wouldn’t appear today – she’d never been able to face anything unpleasant – and it was a safe bet that she would keep to her room. Aunt Gertrude wouldn’t show her face until after lunch. Her plans must be put into action this morning while she had the chance to slip out unnoticed. If Aunt Gertrude discovered what she was doing, then she’d be locked in her room, and her fate would be sealed.

  Leaping up, she began to search through her clothes, choosing the plainest and oldest garments. The case was only small and soon full, but there was room for one more item. The dress her father had bought her for her fourteenth birthday. It was most unsuitable, of course, and there wouldn’t be an occasion to wear it in the life she was planning for herself, but she had to keep some small memory of the way things had been, and of the father she had loved so much.

  After wrapping the white lace and beaded dress in tissue paper, Jenny tucked it underneath her other clothes. Now she had to find a way to raise some money. She would have to try one of those pawnbrokers she’d heard about because she didn’t know any other way.

  It wouldn’t be wise to leave the house with a large package, so, after choosing a couple of good frocks, she tipped out the trinket boxes. There wasn’t much jewellery, but it was all gold and must be worth something. There was a bracelet, a heart-shaped locket on a chain, a couple of brooches, and this: she held up a fine gold chain with a small pendant, a diamond surrounded by emeralds. It was the most valuable gift her father had ever given her. After gazing at it for a few moments she made up her mind to keep it and fastened it around her neck, tucking it out of sight under her blouse. It would be wise to keep that as insurance, because she didn’t know when she might need money in a hurry.

  Gathering everything together, she crammed it into a leather handbag. That could be offered to the pawnbroker as well.

  With heart hammering, she crept down the stairs, hoping no one would see her, and slipped out of the front door with a sigh of relief. They’d all been too busy to take any notice of her. Now, where would be the best place to go? Somewhere she wasn’t known, she thought, as she hurried towards the bus stop.

  A bus was pulling up with the destination LAMBETH on the front. She’d never been there and was sure that none of her family had either. She jumped on and made her way upstairs. All she had in her pocket were two shillings and sixpence, but that would be enough for the moment.

  When she got off the bus and started to walk along the high street, Jenny felt as if she was in another world. No tall elegant houses here with smart cars waiting outside for well-dressed passengers. The contrast was startling. There were women towing along scruffy children, and groups of men standing around with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. The snatches of conversation that drifted her way made her flinch; they cussed freely, and the general air of poverty made her want to cry. How sheltered her life had been.

  ‘Hello, darling.’ A tall youth blocked her path as he eyed her from head to toe. ‘What you doing down ’ere?’

  As frightened as she was, some instinct told her not to show fear and her head came up. ‘Minding my own business. Why don’t you do the same?’ Where the courage came from to utter those words she couldn’t imagine.

  He tipped his head back and roared. ‘Oh, la di da.’ He grinned at his friend who had come to join in the fun. ‘Did you ’ear that posh voice?’

  ‘Yeah, sounds like one of those bloody blokes on the wireless.’

  Every time she moved to get around them they blocked her way. She was breathless with panic, feeling very small, very young and very vulnerable. It had been foolish to answer back.

  The tallest of the boys made a grab for her bag, and she swung it behind her back out of his way. She mustn’t lose this because it contained everything she owned of value. The other boy made to dart for the bag when a loud voice stopped them both. They turned to look at a burly man coming towards them.

  ‘Leave the kid alone!’

  Her first tormentor glared at him. ‘We ain’t doing no harm, Fred, was just having a bit of fun.’

  ‘Well, bugger off and stop pestering decent people.’ Fred watched them with narrowed eyes until they were well down the street; then he turned his attention to Jenny, who was now trembling in reaction. ‘You shouldn’t be here on your own, miss. Those kids don’t mean no ’arm, but they can be frightening if you don’t know them.’

  ‘Thank you for helping me, Mr …?’

  The man’s stern features broke into a smile. ‘Just call me Fred. Now, where are you heading?’

  She didn’t know why, but she felt she could trust him. He might be shabby, but there was something about him. He was about forty-five years old, she guessed. He looked clean, and his pale blue eyes had a glint of kindness in them. ‘I’m looking for a pawnbroker’s.’

  ‘Ah, well, you’ve come to the right place, then.’ His fierce frown was back again. ‘Need money, do you?’

  She nodded in embarrassment.

  ‘You’d better do something about your accent, ’cos they’ll know you’re new to this and take you for a ride.’

  ‘A ride?’ Why would they want to do that?’

  Fred laughed at her puzzled expression. ‘They’ll cheat you.’

  She blushed at her ignorance, feeling helpless to deal with this terrible crisis in her life. It had seemed so e
asy in the comfort of her bedroom, but now all she wanted to do was to run away and hide. It was all too much. She gathered the tattered shreds of her courage around her and said, ‘Oh.’

  ‘Hit ’ard times, have you?’

  Her eyes clouded and she gulped. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What’s the trouble, Fred?’ A woman of around the same age came up to them.

  ‘Hello, Glad. The Preston boys was pestering this young girl. I sent them off with a flea in their ear.’

  Jenny was in a strange land, where they were speaking a different language. Did they have fleas in their ears?

  ‘Good for you. Bloody menace, those kids.’ She opened her shopping bag for Fred to see inside. ‘Got you a nice pair of almond rocks in the market.’

  Jenny gaped as she looked from one to the other. What?

  ‘Oh, you shouldn’t ’ave done that, Glad. We can’t afford luxuries like that.’

  ‘Luxuries!’ The woman shook her head. ‘Those you’re wearing can’t be darned any more, and you know it. I know they’re rubbing your poor old plates of meat. They must be damned uncomfortable.’

  Jenny knew what darning was. You did that to things with holes in, like stockings or socks. She glanced down at Fred’s shoes as realization dawned. Almond rocks – socks. Plates of meat – feet. It rhymed! She giggled, her earlier fear forgotten. She looked back at her companions, so obviously husband and wife.

  ‘Never heard cockney rhyming slang before?’ Fred’s eyes sparkled.

  ‘No. Are there many words like that?’

  ‘Bless you, ducky,’ Glad chuckled, ‘you can ’ave a whole conversation with them.’

  Jenny giggled again. ‘Please don’t do that, I’ll never understand a thing you say.’

  ‘So what you doing down here on your own?’ Glad studied her intently.

  ‘She’s looking for a pawnbroker. In bad need of some money,’ Fred explained.

  ‘Ah, then old Uncle Bob’s your best bet – ’e’s reasonably honest.’ Glad frowned at her husband. ‘But she can’t go to him sounding like that. We’d better do the business for her.’

  ‘Be best. That’s if it’s all right with you, miss. You’ll get a better deal with us there, ’cos we know the crafty old devil.’

  ‘Umm, is he a relative of yours?’

  ‘Gawd ’elp us,’ Glad gasped through her laughter. ‘We all call him uncle. When anyone says they’re going to see uncle, we know they’re going to pop something.’

  ‘Pop?’ Jenny was becoming more confused by the minute.

  ‘Pawn something,’ Fred explained with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘You come with us and we’ll see you all right.’

  Relief swept through Jenny. She’d been dreading doing this on her own and these seemed nice people. ‘I really would appreciate it.’

  ‘Come on, then, let’s see what we can squeeze out of the mean old sod.’ Glad took Jenny’s arm and steered her in the right direction.

  They’d been walking for only about five minutes when Jenny spotted the three brass balls hanging outside the shop. Once inside she gazed around in wonder. It was dingy and packed to the ceiling with goods of every description. There was a short, rotund man behind the counter, almost bald with a few strands of grey hair smoothed across his shining head.

  ‘Hello, Fred, Glad. What can I do for you today?’

  ‘Not us. It’s our young friend here. She’s got some things to pawn.’ Fred turned his back on the man and whispered in Jenny’s ear, ‘You leave this to us.’

  ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’ The shopkeeper sounded impatient.

  She emptied the contents of her bag on the counter. The man went for the jewellery immediately; a magnifying glass appeared rapidly from his waistcoat pocket and he clamped it to his eye. It seemed to take him ages as he examined each item carefully, uttering only a grunt now and again. Suddenly he looked up, dropping the eyeglass into his hand.

  ‘Where’d you get these things? I ain’t taking nothing what’s been pinched.’

  ‘Stolen,’ Fred muttered for her benefit.

  ‘They’re mine!’ In her panic Jenny forgot about not speaking. She just had to have some money! She gazed imploringly at Fred and Glad. ‘They are mine. Honest!’

  Glad patted her arm. ‘Don’t you take no notice of Uncle, ducky, he’s as bent as a four-penny piece. All he’s trying to do is get your nice things for as little money as he can.’

  Jenny was relieved they were here because it was so difficult to understand these strange ways; if she’d been on her own, she’d have run out of the shop in horror.

  ‘Stop playing games,’ Fred growled. ‘The kid’s desperate enough to bring her to Lambeth, so what’re you going to give her?’

  ‘Two quid for the lot.’

  ‘What?’ Jenny was horrified. That wouldn’t last her very long. ‘But the dresses cost a lot and the jewellery is real gold!’

  ‘I don’t have much call for posh frocks round here, and –’

  ‘I’ll go somewhere else, then.’ She didn’t give him a chance to finish speaking and reached out to gather up her precious things. There must be other pawnbrokers around. If she didn’t get more than that, her plan to run away would come to nothing. And that frightened her more than this peculiar man standing in front of her.

  The pawnbroker slapped his hands over the jewellery before she could remove it from the counter. ‘Let’s not be ’asty.’

  Fred chuckled. ‘She’s got more savvy than you thought, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Another ten bob, that’s all I can go to.’

  Jenny pushed his grubby hands out of the way and shoved the things back in her bag.

  ‘How much do you want, then?’ He had come from behind the counter now, obviously not wanting her to leave.

  She could see the look in his eyes and knew he wanted the jewellery. She relaxed a little. ‘Five pounds.’

  ‘What?’ He mopped his brow in mock distress. ‘That’s bleeding robbery!’

  ‘Don’t foul mouth her,’ Glad scolded. ‘She ain’t used to our rough ways.’

  The scruffy man looked her over very carefully, clearly pricing everything she was wearing. ‘What kind of trouble you in?’

  These people didn’t know her, and if she didn’t mention any names … well, she might get a better price. ‘My father lost all his money in the Wall Street crash’ – her bottom lip trembled as she whispered – ‘and he killed himself.’

  Glad dragged an old chair from a heap of furniture and made her sit down, standing beside her with her hand on Jenny’s shoulder. ‘Ah, I’m sorry, ducky.’

  Uncle’s gaze became calculating. ‘You must have lots of nice things at home to sell.’

  She shook her head. ‘The bank’s taking everything. This is all I’ve got.’

  ‘You must have family who’d look after you, though.’ Fred stooped down in front of her.

  She looked into his kindly face and felt a single tear trail down her cheek. ‘My aunt is going to give my mother a home, but she doesn’t want me.’

  Glad looked scandalized. ‘And what does your ma think about that?’

  ‘She’s so upset I don’t think she knows what’s going on, or cares. They’ve arranged for me to live with –’ She stopped. ‘To live with a man and when I’m old enough he’s going to marry me.’

  ‘And you don’t want to do that?’ Glad asked.

  ‘Oh, no, he must be fifty and he’s awful,’ she wailed in anguish. ‘I’m only sixteen …’

  ‘My God!’ Fred exploded. ‘I didn’t know this kind of thing still went on, did you, Glad?’

  ‘Disgraceful the way some of these high-and-mighty people carry on.’

  Jenny gazed up at the husband and wife who had befriended her, giving a violent shudder. ‘I can’t go to him!’

  ‘Of course you can’t. Give her the fiver, Uncle, or I’ll break your mean old neck.’ Fred glowered at the pawnbroker. ‘You know the stuff’s worth that and more.’

  ‘Throw in
the leather bag and it’s a deal.’ He didn’t appear too upset about the agreement.

  After she’d handed over the bag with its contents, he counted out four pound notes, a ten shilling note and another ten shillings in small coins. Then he wrote several tickets and handed them over to her as well. She tried to read the scribble on them.

  ‘They’re in case you wants to buy anything back,’ Glad explained.

  ‘I’ll only give you three months, though,’ Uncle said hastily. ‘If you don’t come back by then, I’ll sell the goods.’

  Jenny doubted she’d ever be able to get them back, and she wasn’t sure she would want to. Nevertheless she put the slips and money in her pocket. ‘Er … can I buy a coat and dress from you?’

  ‘What on earth for?’ Fred rubbed his chin in puzzlement. ‘Them you’ve got on are real good.’

  ‘They’re too good.’ Jenny grimaced and felt she ought to explain. ‘I’ve got to get a job quickly and need to look like someone who would seek employment as a servant.’

  Fred muttered fiercely under his breath, ‘Find her something, Glad.’

  It didn’t take long to sort out a couple of garments that fitted her, or almost. The coat was on the big side but Glad assured her she would grow into it. Jenny was staggered by the amount of clothing in the back of the shop. The dress they finally settled on was dark blue, a little faded but in reasonable condition and it looked clean. The coat was navy blue and a bit frayed around the cuffs. Glad said that after a trim up with a pair of scissors no one would notice. After much fierce haggling, Fred managed to get both items for two and sixpence.

  Jenny was well pleased and left the shop clutching her parcel of working clothes. That was the first part of her plan completed, though how she would have managed without her new friends was hard to imagine.

  There was a café next door, and Glad urged her through the door. ‘Let’s have a nice cuppa, shall we?’

  That would be welcome, Jenny thought. She realized she was shaken by the whole experience in the pawnbroker’s, and would like a sit-down before the worry of getting back into the house without being seen. She took some coins out of her pocket. ‘You must let me pay.’