After knocking on the door she stood tall and lifted her head as she heard footsteps approaching. She didn’t quite know when it had happened, but the feeling of being hunted had slowly ebbed away. The one thing on her mind was to try to help those in need. Bold action was needed. If she was coming begging, then she was going to do it openly, through the front door!
For a moment the butler didn’t recognize her, and before he had a chance to speak she said, ‘Mr Green, please tell Mrs Stannard that Eugenie Winford is here to see her.’ As she had come to the front door, it seemed right to use her old name.
‘Of course, Miss Winford.’ He stepped aside to let her in, obviously struggling to keep his composure, as a butler should.
Jenny walked into the hall, turned and gave Green a sly wink as a way of admitting her cheek in coming to the front of the house like this.
It was too much for him and his face broke into a wide smile. ‘Oh, it’s good to see you again,’ he whispered.
‘And you,’ she said, as her insides churned. ‘Do you think she’ll receive me?’
‘I’m sure she will. Wait here, I’ll tell her at once.’ He climbed the stairs in his usual dignified manner.
He was soon back. ‘Please follow me, Miss Winford.’ His tone was proper for an honoured visitor.
He took her to Mrs Stannard’s private sitting room. After opening the door with a flourish, Green stepped inside and announced, ‘Miss Eugenie Winford, madam.’
It was with great difficulty that Jenny kept a straight face, her nervousness vanishing as the butler swept past, giving her a wink this time.
‘Eugenie!’ Mrs Stannard came forward eagerly. ‘Please take your hat and coat off. I’ll order tea.’
‘Please don’t bother with tea, Mrs Stannard. I won’t take up much of your time.’ Jenny was sorry she’d been so abrupt when she saw Mrs Stannard’s disappointment. Her former employer really was pleased to see her! But she mustn’t worry about these things; she must concentrate on why she was here. ‘I’ve come to ask for your help. And I prefer to be called Jenny.’
‘Please sit down, Jenny, and tell me what I can do for you.’
Jenny removed her coat and laid it over the back of a chair, then she sat on a lovely regency chair made of walnut with a deep red satin seat. ‘It isn’t for me. The people I live with are in desperate need.’
When she looked up, she was shocked to see Mrs Stannard’s eyes brimming with tears. Jenny knew how she looked, gaunt and shabbily dressed, so she lifted her head in defiance. She didn’t need or want sympathy!
‘I must apologize for the way you were dismissed –’
Jenny held up her hand to stop her. ‘There is no need for you to do that. It is in the past and forgotten.’
‘That is gracious of you.’ Mrs Stannard regained her composure. ‘How can I help?’
Jenny spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the need for a centre to help the people of Lambeth. When she’d finished Mrs Stannard’s expression was grim – she looked angry and Jenny sighed inwardly. This had been a waste of time; her ex-mistress was obviously furious that she’d been approached in this manner. But she’d had to try.
Jenny stood up and put her coat back on. ‘Thank you for listening.’
Mrs Stannard was immediately on her feet, holding out a pen and paper she’d snatched from a nearby table. ‘Leave me your address, Jenny. I’ll talk to my husband and sons tonight.’
‘Thank you.’ Jenny wrote Ma’s address down and handed it over, then she left the room. A short time ago she would have hesitated to tell anyone except Edna where she lived, but, in the light of the suffering the depression was causing, that didn’t seem important any more.
Edna was hovering at the end of the passage and beckoned excitedly. ‘Come on, Jen, everyone’s itching to see you.’
They clattered down the servants’ stairs, and once in the kitchen Jenny was greeted with cries of delight and many hugs. Even the housekeeper, Mrs Douglas, kissed her cheek before hurrying away.
‘Sit yourself down,’ Mrs Peters ordered, ‘and have some lunch with us.’
Jenny eyed the array of mouth-watering food wistfully. ‘I wish I could, but I must get back to Ma Adams.’
‘In that case you must take it back with you.’
Mrs Peters began to wrap fruit pies, bread and many other things that Jenny now considered luxuries, like cakes; she placed a junket carefully in a basket. How Ma was going to love that, and some for Ivy’s two children …
‘What about one of those nice meat pies?’ Edna had helped fill one basket and was now searching for another in the pantry.
‘Whoa!’ Jenny laughed as her friend came back with a huge hamper. ‘I’ll never be able to carry all that, and you’ll get the sack if the mistress sees you giving away all her food.’
‘No, she won’t.’ Mrs Douglas came in smiling. ‘Madam’s just told me to see you go back with plenty, and Edna can help you carry it.’
After finding a smaller shopping basket to use in place of the hamper, Jenny said a tearful goodbye and, with the two baskets and Edna’s help, made her way back to Ma’s.
‘How did your meeting go?’ Edna asked as they walked up Forest Road with the heavy bags of food.
‘Oh, she was very polite, but I was asking a lot of her. I don’t suppose she’ll be able to help.’
‘She will if she can, Jen. She’s a kind woman.’
‘I’m sure she is. I’ve given her my address, so we’ll just have to wait and see. Now tell me about this lovely man you’ve met.’
Edna squeezed her arm. ‘His name’s David, and I was rushing through Hyde Park one day when I bumped into him. We sat talking for a while and then he took me for tea. We meet now every time we can wangle it.’
Edna’s face shone with happiness and Jenny was so pleased for her.
Much to her husband and sons’ surprise, Louise was not in when they arrived home that evening. She’d left a message to say that she may be late and they were to start dinner without her.
Gilbert frowned at the brief note and muttered to himself. ‘This is most unlike your mother. She doesn’t even say where she’s gone!’
‘Perhaps she’s dining with one of her friends,’ John suggested.
‘I expect that’s it.’ Gilbert looked up when the butler came into the drawing room to announce dinner. ‘Did my wife say where she was going?’
‘No, sir, she left in a hurry after Miss Eugenie Winford called on her.’ He appeared to say the name with some relish.
‘What!’ The four men in the room all spoke at once.
‘How did Miss Winford look?’ Matt was on his feet, anxious for news of the young girl who still troubled his thoughts.
Green shook his head sadly. ‘Very shabby and undernourished.’
‘Oh, hell!’ That news didn’t ease Matt’s concerns at all. ‘What was her meeting with my mother about?’
‘I can’t say, Mr Matthew. Mrs Stannard is the only one who knows that.’
It was a silent meal, and by ten o’clock Matt’s father was pacing the room, concerned about his wife’s continued absence.
At twenty past ten she finally arrived home in a grim and determined mood.
‘What is it, my dear?’ Gilbert rushed over to his wife. ‘What’s happened? Where have you been?’
‘One question at a time, Gilbert.’ Louise sat down with a weary sigh. ‘You can pour me a stiff brandy. I need it.’
Matt was nearest to the decanter, so he poured a generous amount in a glass. Now he was dreadfully worried. The only alcohol his mother ever drank was an occasional glass of red wine.
When he handed her the drink, she gave him a wan smile. ‘You heard about Jenny coming to see me?’
‘Yes.’ Matt moved a small table near his mother for her to put her glass on. ‘Is she going to come to stay with us?’
‘No, she won’t leave the people she’s living with.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘Oh, the poor dear —’
‘Louise!’ Her husband was now obviously alarmed at her distress. ‘Please tell us what this is about.’
‘She came to me for help. Not for herself, but for the people living in her area.’ Louise finished her brandy, pulled a face at the taste and put the glass on the table. She then told them the whole story.
There was a tense silence when she’d finished, then John cleared his throat. ‘So how can we help?’
‘I’ve been with Margaret Hunter and Jane Patterson for most of the day. We’ve formed a committee and we’re going to organize the centre Jenny wants in Lambeth.’
‘Well, you’ve enlisted help from two of the most dedicated charity workers, my dear.’ Her husband was still frowning. ‘But the whole bloody country is in desperate need. This will be helping only a few people.’
‘I know that, Gilbert, but the idea might spread to other areas. Think how many it would help then.’
‘I agree with you, Mother.’ John joined in the conversation. ‘Matt and Luke are trying to save the garage. That’s only a few jobs, but to those men it’s hellishly important, and worth doing. If you and your friends can get this going, it will help others.’ John looked at his father. ‘It isn’t much in the present climate of unemployment, but at least it’s doing something, Father.’
‘You’re quite right, of course, John.’
‘Mother,’ Matt said, sitting beside her, ‘do you have Jenny’s address?’
‘Yes, she gave it to me. I promised to let her know if I could do anything.’
‘You let me have it and I’ll go to see her in my lunch break tomorrow. It’ll give me a chance to see what her living conditions are like as well.’
‘Thank you, Matt.’ She looked exhausted. ‘Ask cook for some food to take with you. There are children and elderly there who are the most vulnerable.’
With Ma in bed, Jenny was absorbed in reading yesterday’s newspaper, which Fred had given to her. In the election two days ago the Labour Party had been overwhelmed at the polls. Ramsay MacDonald was Prime Minister of a national government with support from all parties. There had been a run on the pound, and last month income tax had been raised to five shillings in the pound and the dole cut by 10 per cent. This had been just another blow for those trying to survive. The voters had obviously shown their anger about the mess the country was in. And Oswald Mosley’s New Party had suffered a crushing defeat at the polls.
There was a gentle knock on the back door, and Jenny looked up, wondering who it could be at half past ten at night.
The door opened and Ivy looked in. ‘Oh, good, you’re still up, Jen. Ted Roper’s been taken bad, and Agnes and their son, Jimmy, are frightened.’
Jenny was immediately on her feet. ‘I’ll come right away.’
Agnes Roper was ashen-faced with worry, and young Jimmy was standing around gazing helplessly at his father. At fifteen he was a gangling youth and, like the rest of them, too thin.
‘Oh, thank God you’ve come!’ Agnes clenched her hands into tight fists. ‘He’s real bad.’
Jenny rushed over to the man lying on the sofa, still fully dressed. He was holding his chest and gasping for breath, clearly in great pain. She pulled off his boots and loosened his tie in an effort to make him more comfortable. It was cold in the small front room.
‘Bring me a blanket, Agnes,’ Jenny ordered.
‘We ain’t got none. They’ve been popped,’ Jimmy told her.
A multitude of feelings ran through Jenny – pity, sorrow, worry, fear – but the overriding emotion was anger. What was the government doing when people even had to pawn their blankets so that they could eat? She hoped that now the election was out of the way there would be some improvement.
‘I’ll get one of ours.’ Ivy sped off to their house next door and returned almost immediately with a blanket, and her mother, Glad.
She was a welcome sight, and, as Jenny tucked the blanket around Ted, she said to Glad, ‘He needs a doctor.’
‘We can’t afford no doctors.’ Agnes was gazing at her husband and shaking badly. ‘They wouldn’t come out this time of night anyway. And look, Ted’s a bit better now. I think he’s asleep. He’ll be right as rain in the morning.’
‘I’ll make us a nice cup of Rosie Lee.’ Before Glad disappeared into the kitchen, she gave a sad shake of her head to Jenny.
It was obvious what she was saying. Ted Roper had had a heart attack and probably wouldn’t live through the night.
Jenny sat beside Agnes and took her cold hands in her own. ‘We’ll stay with you.’
‘Thanks,’ the distraught woman whispered. ‘You go to bed, Jimmy.’
The boy shook his head and settled in a chair where he could keep an eye on his dad.
Glad came back with the tea, put the tray on the sideboard and glanced at her daughter. ‘Ivy, you go home now. Me and Jen will stay with Agnes and Jimmy.’
‘All right, Mum, but you call if you need me.’
As Ivy left, Jenny also settled down. It was going to be a long night, but if Ted did live until morning, she would get him a doctor.
At four o’clock in the morning Ted Roper gave a gasp and died. Jenny wanted to shout in fury at the sheer hopelessness and waste of a life. Ted had been only thirty-eight, but had aged beyond his years with the constant struggle to feed and house his family. The last two years had been the worst, and Jenny was certain that the strain of waiting for hours in a dole queue and chasing around from morning to night looking for any kind of work had been the cause of his early death.
It was seven in the morning before Jenny returned home. Glad had taken charge of the practical details, while Jenny had stayed to comfort Agnes and Jimmy.
Sitting at the kitchen table, she covered her face with her hands. What an awful night that had been. And how was Agnes going to manage without Ted’s unemployment money? It was only a little more than a pound a week, and with rent for these small houses at six shillings a week, it had been a struggle to manage anyway. But without even that coming in, Agnes and her son would be in desperate need. Glad was going to the welfare as soon as they opened to see if she could get anything for them, but these things took time. The welfare system was a laborious affair, and many people were not getting the help they needed simply because they didn’t understand how to get it.
Because Ma was over seventy, she got what was called the Old Age Pension. Jenny didn’t know how much it was, as Glad had always looked after that for Ma, but it was enough to pay the rent and leave a few shillings over for food. But since Jenny had lost her job, by Wednesday each week she was scratching around to get as much as she could as cheaply as possible. She hated to think that Ma had to support her, and she ate very little to make sure the elderly woman had enough to eat.
The food Mrs Peters had given her yesterday had been very welcome. She had shared it with Glad and her family. Now she was going to have to see what she could do for Agnes and Jimmy.
Her sigh was weary. How she wished she could get another job …
‘Jen!’
The call from Ma had her rushing to the stairs. The old woman was balancing precariously on the top stair. ‘Come and give us a hand getting down these bleeding stairs.’
It was a slow and painful trip down, but eventually Ma was sitting at the kitchen table, muttering irritably under her breath.
‘Why don’t you let me make you a bed downstairs? Jenny suggested.
‘Not bloody likely! That’s the end of the line, girl. I’ve always gone upstairs to bed and I ain’t gonna change that now,’ she snapped.
After the night Jenny had just had, she was in no mood to put up with Ma’s sharp tongue, but rather than start an argument she turned away to put the kettle on the stove. ‘I’ve got some of that nice home-made bread left. Would you like some?’ she asked mildly. ‘I’ll cut off the crusts and soak them in a little milk, shall I?’
‘That’d be nice.’ Ma spoke softly. ‘Turn round, Jen.’
She did so and suffered the s
crutiny of those sharp eyes.
‘Sorry I’m such a grump, ducky, but I gets frustrated not being able to do for myself. You look as if you’ve had a bad night. What’s happened?’
‘Ted Roper died of a heart attack at four o’clock this morning. Me and Glad have been there all night.’
‘Ah, I’m right sad about that.’ Ma shook her head. ‘He was a good man. It’s gonna be hard for Agnes and young Jimmy now.’
Jenny snorted in disgust. ‘Even harder than the last couple of years!’ She cut the crusts off two slices of bread and dunked them in a dish of milk to soften, then spread some of cook’s jam on the bread. She put the dish and plate in front of Ma, and poured her a cup of tea as well.
Ma sat staring at the plates, then lifted her head and glared at Jenny. ‘And where’s yours?’
‘Oh, I’m not hungry.’
‘Listen, my girl, if you think I’m going to eat while you sit there with an empty belly, then you’re very much mistaken! You’ll bloody well eat something!’
That was too much for Jenny’s troubled heart and she erupted. ‘Don’t you swear at me! I’m doing the best I can. People are dying around me and I can’t do a thing about it. I’ll have to go and beg to be allowed to scrub some of the fine houses’ steps. I’m just a burden on you and everyone else around here. I don’t know what else to do, Ma …’
‘There, there, ducky, don’t take on so.’ Ma struggled to her feet, putting an arm around Jenny’s shoulders. ‘You ain’t a burden to me or anyone else. I couldn’t manage without you. You’re doing just fine and I’m right proud of you.’ Ma kissed the top of her head. ‘Dry your tears, have a slice of my bread, and go and have a nice kip. You’ll feel better then.’
‘You’re right.’ Jenny took a slice of bread from Ma’s plate and munched in silence. As she swallowed the last mouthful, she gave a watery smile.
‘That’s better. Now off you go. I’ll clear the table.’
Riches to Rags Page 18
