‘No, Ma.’ Jenny lifted her head. ‘No, I would only be replacing one kind of slavery with another. Oh, I know it would be one of silks and satins, but I’d rather scrub floors! Honestly.’
‘Want to talk about it? I knows how to keep my mouth shut.’
Without giving away any names, Jenny briefly explained what had driven her to run away. As she finished the story, something occurred to her with such force that it took her breath away in alarm.
‘Are you asking me to leave, Ma?’
‘God love you, Jen, that’s the last thing I want. I’ve grown right fond of you.’ She reached out, took hold of Jenny’s hand and squeezed it as hard as her arthritic hands would allow. ‘It fair breaks my heart to see a young girl like you working as a skivvy. You should be out having fun, but I’d be terrible sad to lose you.’
‘That’s a relief!’ Jenny’s heart stopped thumping. For one dreadful moment she thought she would have to find somewhere else to stay. And she couldn’t go through that again. She just couldn’t!
‘I’d be daft to let you go.’ Ma’s eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile. ‘You’ve only been here four weeks, but my place has never looked so spruce. And my front step’s something to be proud of. Didn’t look as good as that even when I could do it myself.’
Jenny stood up and bent over to kiss Ma’s leathery cheek. ‘Don’t you worry about me. I’m happy here – and I feel safe.’
‘You are, ducky. That beastly family of yours won’t find you here.’ She looked over at the table. ‘You give me your cup and saucer.’
‘But I haven’t washed it up yet.’
‘I know that. Come on, hand it over.’
Jenny did as ordered, watching with amusement as Ma swished the tea dregs around and then tipped the cup upside down in the saucer. Ma tapped it three times and turned it back the right way again.
‘Now let me see …’
Jenny suddenly realized what Ma was up to and she giggled. ‘Are you reading the tea leaves?’
‘Don’t laugh, Jen. I knows what I’m doing, and more often than not I’m right. Uncanny my readings are, that’s what people around here say.’ The elderly woman gave a superior toss of her head and bent to her task.
‘Well, what do you see?’ Jenny sat down again, deciding that she would humour Ma.
‘Don’t rush me! Hmm, now … There’s people looking for you –’
‘I know that, Ma.’ She stifled a giggle again. After the tale she’d just told Ma, that didn’t take much working out.
‘Don’t interrupt! It isn’t just two people; it’s lots. Some mean you harm; others don’t. But you’d do well to stay out of everyone’s way for the time being. It’s hard to know who to trust.’ Ma looked up. ‘That don’t include anyone in this street. You can trust all of them.’
‘I know that, Ma. I hope you’re wrong about a lot of people, because I’m having enough trouble staying out of the way of just two.’ She went to stand up again but was waved back into her seat.
‘I ain’t finished yet. This is a real interesting set of leaves. You’ve got some hard times in front of you, but you ain’t gonna be alone all the time …’ She grinned broadly. ‘You’re going to meet a tall, dark, ’andsome man.’
‘Oh, Ma,’ Jenny laughed, ‘you read too many romantic stories.’
The old woman handed her the cup. ‘You can make fun all you like, but I feels much happier about you now I’ve seen your future.’
‘Well, I know your future.’ Jenny collected up the tea things, still chuckling. ‘I’m going to wash these up, and tomorrow you’ll have a nice apple pie.’
‘That would be lovely. Your pastry’s getting quite good now.’ Then she gave Jenny a suspicious look. ‘Where’d you get the apples from?’
‘I went scrumping with Ivy this morning.’
Ma roared with laughter and slapped her knee. ‘You’re learning, my girl. You might be posh, but you’re all right.’
With Ma’s infectious laugh ringing in her ears she went into the kitchen to cook her ill-gotten gains. They’d had a new job today, cleaning a firm of solicitors’ offices. It had been an old house, and the garden had two apple trees in it. The ground had been littered with apples, and Ivy had declared that it was a crying shame to let them rot, so they’d picked up some of the best and shared them out. There was a lot of bruising, but after she’d cut this away she still had enough for the pie.
After it was cooked she put it on the table to cool. Ma would enjoy that tomorrow. Jenny wished she could afford some cream to go with it, but that was out of the question. Ron, Ivy’s husband, had been laid off last week, and without his money coming in things were even harder. The number of unemployed was rising every week, and behind the jokes Jenny could see the worry in their eyes as they struggled to feed their families. The most amazing and touching thing was the way they all tried to help each other out. There was genuine concern for everyone in the street. She knew that Fred and Stan were bringing home any veg they hadn’t sold, and sharing it out amongst those most in need. She was aware that that act of kindness was depleting their income. They couldn’t afford to give produce away, but they still did. She was constantly astounded by their unselfishness.
Jenny bowed her head and struggled to keep the worry at bay. The talk was that this was just the start. The depression was beginning to take hold and touch almost everyone, but it was the working classes who were going to suffer the most. She prayed she would be able to keep her job, because the money was helping to keep food on the table, and like everyone else in the street she did what she could, especially for the old and those with young children. She touched the pendant around her neck and felt comforted. At least she still had that, but she knew she wouldn’t hesitate to sell it to help the people she’d come to love.
‘Jen,’ Ma called, ‘you done yet?’
She straightened up, put the smile back on her face and went back to the other room.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Ma held out a book. ‘Read to me. My eyes ain’t what they was, and I do love to hear your smashing voice. Quite brings the story to life.’
Jenny opened Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice at the marker she’d put in last night. This was Ma’s favourite book, and she never seemed to tire of it. She read until Ma couldn’t keep her eyes open, and then helped her up to bed.
This routine became a pattern on Jenny’s days. It was a hard life, but there was laughter as well. The residents of Forest Road knew how to throw a party, even if they were boracic lint – she had soon learnt that that meant skint, no money. All they needed was a joanna – piano – and a couple of drinks and they were away. She was learning quite a few cockney rhyming-slang words now. There was always a birthday, anniversary or christening. The neighbours would all come with a small donation of food for the table, and troubles would be forgotten for a short time. They didn’t have much in the way of worldly goods, but they had something far more precious: friendship and a desire to look after each other. Jenny was certainly seeing the other side of life, and her love and respect for them grew every day.
It was now a year since she had left home. After shedding tears on the anniversary of her father’s death, she tried to put it behind her. Her days were too busy to dwell on the past. She had made her decision last November; there was no going back now.
She reached home – for that was how she thought about Ma’s now – at the end of another week and was surprised to see the front room crowded. There was Fred, Glad, Stan, Ma and several of the neighbours, all talking very seriously.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked in alarm.
‘There’s people asking for Jenny Baker or Eugenie Winford,’ said a voice from behind her.
She spun round with a whimper of panic to find herself looking straight at Fred. She almost collapsed in relief, expecting to see a policeman there, or someone else in authority. ‘Oh, no, they’ve found me!’
Ma hobbled up to her, taking hold of her hand. ‘Now, don�
��t be affrighted, Jen. No one here would tell strangers anything.’
‘Who was it?’ Her voice wavered as she pictured Greaves’s large bulk walking down this humble street.
‘Two young men.’ Glad made her sit down. ‘Don’t take on so, ducky. You’re shaking something terrible.’
‘Right nice they were too.’ Ma winked at Jenny. ‘Both tall, dark and ’andsome.’
‘They were strolling along talking to everyone in this street, and there was plenty around ’cos we all came out to have a look at these toffs.’ Stan grinned. ‘They had a lot of guts to wander around here, but they was wasting their time. We’d never give up one of our own.’
As Jenny glanced at each face in the room and saw them all nodding in agreement, the panic began to fade. One of their own?
‘Don’t look so surprised.’ Fred’s smile was full of affection. ‘Since you’ve been with us, you’ve mucked in, worked as hard as any of us without a murmur of complaint, and you’re looking after Ma real kind like. We’ve known from the start that you wasn’t born to this kind of life, but you’re doing good. We’re right fond of you for that.’
Jenny gulped back the emotion. ‘You’ve all been so kind, and I don’t know what would have happened to me without your help. But you said it was two young men looking for me. Did they say who they were?’
‘Matthew and Luke Stannard,’ Ma announced. ‘I asked what they wanted with these girls. They said it was only the one girl, and she could be using either name. She was in trouble and they wanted to help. We told them we didn’t know no one by those names. Do you know them?’
Jenny couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Yes, I do, but that can’t be true. Why would they be searching for me? And how did they know my real name?’
‘We didn’t ask that,’ Glad said. ‘It would have seemed suspicious if we’d shown too much interest. So you don’t think they really wanted to help you?’
‘Of course not. They think I’m a thief!’ This was too ridiculous! The Stannard brothers had no reason to come looking for her, unless they were after the reward. Jenny was immediately ashamed of that thought. She didn’t know them very well, of course, but they were rich enough not to be tempted by one hundred pounds, and she didn’t believe Matthew Stannard would do anything so underhand. He had seemed so nice.
‘We know you wouldn’t take anything that wasn’t yours, Jen.’ Fred’s grin was mischievous. ‘If we thought that, we’d never have asked Ma to take you in. You might have nicked all her valuables.’
Ma cackled with mirth. ‘If anyone thinks there’s valuables in here, I’ll help them search. I’d love to see it!’
Everyone in the room was laughing now, and even Jenny managed a smile at the joke.
‘So,’ said Stan, when they’d quietened down. ‘Fred said that there was a reward being offered for you; do you think they’re after that?’
‘The answer is that I really don’t know. I can’t imagine the money being a temptation to them.’ She frowned in concentration. They’d nearly found her, and this was very worrying.
‘How do you think they ended up looking round here for you?’ Glad asked.
‘When I was working there I made friends with a girl called Edna. I sent her a letter the other week telling her I was all right, but I posted it in another borough. The only time I ever mentioned Lambeth was in the beginning, when she asked me where I came from. I thought about my meeting with Glad and Fred, so I said Lambeth. It was the first name that came to my mind.’
‘You never told her about me and Glad, then?’
‘No, Fred.’
‘Ah, well, if this is the only place they know of, that’s probably why they were here. They might be scouting the whole area.’ Fred stood up. ‘Don’t you worry, Jen. They’ll soon see it’s hopeless and give up.’
‘I do hope you’re right,’ she said with a sad shake of her head. ‘Every time I start to feel safe, something happens.’
Glad squeezed her hand. ‘You are safe here. No one’s going to say a word.’
They all filed out then, and when they’d gone, Ma said, ‘I told you there were lots of people looking for you.’
‘Yes, you did, and both are tall, dark and handsome.’ Jenny could laugh now, albeit rather shakily.
‘I don’t think they mean you no harm.’ Ma gazed into space.
‘I can’t take that chance, though.’
‘No, with money in the offing you’re wise to be wary. Make us a nice cup of tea, duck. I’m fair parched. And I think I’ll read your tea leaves again.’
‘No, thanks, Ma,’ she said, heading for the kitchen. ‘I don’t think I want to know what the future holds.’
‘I shan’t tell you. I never told you all I saw last time.’
‘Oh.’ Jenny stopped and turned round. ‘You saw more than tall, dark and ’andsome?’ she teased.
‘Lots more.’ Ma folded her arms and looked smug. ‘Where’s that tea?’
13
This was a beauty. Matt, deep in thought, lifted the bonnet of a Rolls-Royce Phantom. He was curious to know more about Jenny’s father, Cyrus Winford. What kind of a man had he been? How could he have left his young daughter at the mercy of Gertrude Osborne and Greaves? And why the hell was her mother allowing this to happen? What was the matter with her? He ducked his head to take a closer look at the engine.
‘Don’t touch that!’ Jake Porter called.
Matt grinned at his boss. ‘Just looking.’
‘Oh, yeah? What’s that spanner doing in your hand, then?’
He slipped the tool into his pocket, chuckling.
‘Now I feel safer,’ Jake grunted. ‘I’ve never met anyone with such an urge to take apart anything mechanical.’
‘Are you going to let me work on this with you?’ Matt asked.
‘You can watch. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. In the meantime –’
‘I know, don’t touch anything.’
‘You’ve got it.’ Jake disappeared into the office.
Matt bent over to examine the engine again, whistling to himself, his former concerns dismissed as he contemplated the excitement of working on this beautiful vehicle. He loved it here, and once everyone had seen his enthusiasm and willingness to take orders, he had been accepted without question.
‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’ Harry said.
Matt straightened up and rubbed his hands in anticipation. He’d made friends with Harry Butler as soon as he’d arrived here. Although their backgrounds were very different, they’d hit it off at once. ‘Absolutely wonderful. Who owns her?’
‘Used to belong to a bloke called Winford, but it’s been booked in this time as Greaves.’
‘What the devil is he doing with the Winfords’ car?’ Matt was astonished to come across that man’s name at the garage.
‘Said he’d bought it from them.’ Harry studied him intently. ‘I keep forgetting that you come from a rich family. Do you know him?’
‘I’ve only met him once.’
Someone called out for Harry, and, after giving the car an affectionate pat, he hurried away to see to a customer. Harry was twenty-five and an excellent mechanic – another of Jake’s successful apprentices. Matt hoped to be as good one day. In the beginning he’d wondered if, because of his background, there would be hostility towards him, but that hadn’t happened. It had added to Matt’s pleasure in the job.
He walked round the car and opened the rear door, gazing in and trying to imagine their under housemaid sitting there with a chauffeur to drive her around. A ripple of concern went through him again, as it always did when he thought about her. From a life of wealth and privilege she had plunged into the harsh world of the working classes. The shock must have been terrible, and yet it was what she had chosen to do, rather than fall in with the plans of her obnoxious aunt. Poor thing. She hadn’t had any choice, but what courage she must have. The door closed with a soft click, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, lost in thought.
All their efforts to find her had been fruitless, and, to be honest, that was only to be expected. London was a huge place, and it was doubtful if she was even still here. Edna had said that someone had taken her in, so she could be anywhere. The Templeton School was in Kent, and she might know someone in that area. Perhaps he’d drag Luke along there one day. His brother would jump at the chance to visit a girls’ school, he thought wryly.
‘Take your hands out of your pockets,’ Jake ordered as he came and stood beside him.
Matt instantly forgot everything else in his eagerness to work on the Rolls-Royce with his boss.
John was late arriving home that evening, immediately joining them in the drawing room. ‘I’ve been curious about Mr Winford, so I contacted Henry Eddison at the Manhattan Bank, and asked if he’d known him.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that.’ Louise didn’t look pleased.
‘It’s all right, Mother. I made it a very casual inquiry in a chatty letter to Henry.’ John took the cup of coffee his mother had poured for him and sat down. ‘He didn’t know him personally, but, if this is Eugenie’s father, then her future could be very difficult.’
‘It can’t be much worse than it is, surely?’ Matt said.
‘I’m afraid it can.’ John took a letter from his pocket and flicked through it, frowning deeply. ‘He said that Cyrus D. Winford was a respected broker. He understood that he had a wife and two children – boys – in America, and his death must have been a terrible shock to them.’
‘What!’ Their father was clearly shocked. ‘Does that mean Eugenie’s mother was his mistress?’
‘He could be a bigamist and have gone through a ceremony with each of them,’ Luke pointed out.
‘I do hope not,’ their mother said, her eyes full of sadness. ‘That poor girl could be illegitimate.’
‘I think we ought to redouble our efforts to find her,’ Matt said. ‘After all we did throw her out, so we do have some responsibility towards her.’
Riches to Rags Page 12
