Riches to Rags

by Beryl Matthews

  ‘I thought you’d say that. Go along to The Cut Market about eight and see Bet Hawkins. She’s got a stall six down from ours. Her old man fell down the pub step last night and broke his ankle, silly sod.’ Fred held his hands over the stove. ‘Anyway, she needs help for a while, so I told her about you. She said she’d keep the job for you if you want it.’

  ‘Want it? Of course I do!’ She grinned in delight. ‘What does she sell?’

  ‘Anything she can lay her hands on like, pots, pans, china, linen and baby clothes.’ Fred chuckled at her obvious excitement. ‘Wrap up well. How loud can you holler?’

  ‘They’ll hear me five miles away.’ She hugged Fred. ‘Thank you. This means I can really make my home here.’ Jenny sniffed as tears threatened. ‘I’m so lucky.’

  ‘Ah, Jen.’ Fred shook his head. ‘You’re a wonder. You talk as if this house was a palace.’

  ‘It is to me, and it’s full of happy memories.’

  ‘Fred, you here?’ Stan walked in. ‘There you are. We must get moving. Morning, Jen, you gonna see old Bet?’

  ‘I’ll be there on the dot of eight.’

  The men started to walk out when Fred looked back. ‘This won’t be permanent, Jen. As soon as Bet’s old man’s on his feet again he’ll be back.’

  ‘I understand that.’ Jenny gave a cheeky grin. ‘Perhaps he’ll fall over the pub cat next time and take some more time off.’

  Fred and Stan left, their laughter echoing up the street.

  There was a bitter wind blowing and Jenny was glad of the red scarf and gloves the Stannards had given her the first Christmas she had been with them. How long ago that seemed. She made her way up Lower Marsh Street, across Waterloo Road, and into The Cut. It was hard to imagine that it had really been a marsh and had been drained a long time ago. The Cut was bustling, with the stallholders setting up for another day’s trading and already shouting to attract customers.

  She gave a cheery wave to Fred and Stan as she went by. Ah, this must be it, she thought, as soon as she saw a woman around sixty struggling to open a large box.

  ‘Mrs Hawkins?’

  The woman looked up, puffing from her exertions with the box. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m Jenny, and I was told you need help for a while.’

  ‘Did Fred send you?’

  Jenny nodded, desperately hoping the woman would take her on.

  ‘You must be Ma Adams’s girl, then.’

  ‘I am,’ Jenny acknowledged with some pride.

  ‘Good, come and help me get this bloody china unpacked. Christmas only two weeks away and my old man has to fall over. Says he didn’t see the pub step.’ Bet Hawkins let out a howl of laughter. ‘He steps over the bleeding thing every night, you’d think he’d know it was there by now!’

  ‘I expect he’s sorry now.’ Jenny fought back a grin, not sure if she should show she was amused.

  That produced another bellow. ‘He’ll be even sorrier ‘cos I’m gonna make him pay your wages.’

  Jenny joined in the laughter then. She’d got the job!

  ‘Let’s get this lot on the stall.’

  Without wasting time, Jenny pitched in, setting out china as instructed. There were also loads of boxes of tea cloths, and she couldn’t believe her eyes. ‘Can you sell all these?’

  ‘I don’t buy nothing I can’t shift.’ Bet separated them into bundles of ten. ‘All we gotta do is get a crowd round us and they’ll go.’

  ‘How much are you going to charge?’

  Bet’s ample frame began to shake with laughter. ‘My God, they said you had a posh way of talking. My customers are gonna love you.’ She held up a cup, crooked her little finger and tried to imitate Jenny’s accent. ‘Roll up, roll up.’

  It was such a sorry attempt that they both ended up with tears running down their faces.

  ‘Oh,’ Bet said, wiping her eyes, ‘I ain’t laughed so much for years.’

  Neither had she, Jenny realized.

  ‘People are coming to see what we’re up to. Just follow my lead and talk posh. That’ll get their attention.’

  The next two hours were hilarious as she watched Bet at work. The pile of tea cloths was already much smaller. They were concentrating on selling those first.

  ‘How much?’ a newcomer in the crowd shouted.

  ‘You have a go,’ Bet said. ‘I’m right parched after all that shouting.’

  ‘Two and sixpence to you, sir.’ Jenny used her best Templeton School accent, and the crowd erupted into laughter.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ the man yelled. ‘Where’d you find her, Bet?’

  ‘Good, ain’t she?’

  The crowd had grown in size, attracted by the laughter, and they had everyone’s attention.

  ‘She is that, but I still ain’t paying half a crown. That’s robbery.’

  ‘Two shillings, then, sir.’ Jenny was thoroughly enjoying herself.

  ‘One and threepence for a dozen and I’ll take a ton.’

  ‘One and fivepence and it’s a deal.’ Jenny was confident because she knew this was above what Bet was prepared to accept.

  ‘All right.’ The man pushed forward, rolling his eyes and joking with the crowd. ‘Who can resist such a fine lady?’

  ‘Well done,’ Bet murmured, busy packing a box full of tea cloths. ‘He’s got a shop in the next street and often buys from me, but you got a better price out of him than I could have done.’

  ‘Er, how many is a ton?’

  ‘A hundred.’

  ‘What!’

  Bet winked at her. ‘Take the man’s money afore he changes his mind.’

  They concentrated on the china after that, and Jenny was amazed by how much business they were doing. Where she lived people didn’t have money to buy such items. Over lunch of a hot pie and a dollop of mushy peas from the shop behind them, Bet explained that it was only the unemployed who were suffering so much. Anyone with a little bit of money always came to the market because they could get things cheap.

  There was a lull in the middle of the afternoon, and Bet thrust a couple of mugs at her, telling her to get them filled at the café. As they sat drinking the welcome hot tea, Jenny felt very happy. She was enjoying this so much that she hadn’t even noticed the cold. Fred and Stan were still making a small profit from their stall, Ron and Jimmy had full-time jobs at the centre, Ivy was occasionally picking up work there, and now she had been taken on by Bet. Oh, Ma, she thought, if you could only see how well we’re doing now. But perhaps she could.

  Trade picked up again in the afternoon. Jenny was surprised when she realized that it had grown dark and that everyone had started to pack up – the day had just flown by. Bet had an old car near by, and Jenny helped her to pack everything away.

  ‘Now, let me see.’ Bet dived into the pouch she wore around her waist. ‘We’ve done real good today, and I’ll pay you each day.’ She handed Jenny five shillings. ‘It might not be that much every day, depends how much we sell, but you’ve earned that today.’

  Jenny was almost speechless. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘My pleasure, Jen, you’ve been a right laugh to work with. See you tomorrow, make it half past seven.’

  ‘I’ll be here.’

  ‘Right, I’m off. Better get my old man a couple of pints or he’ll sink into the miseries.’ Her laugh was almost as loud as the roar from her old Austin Seven as she drove away.

  ‘Ah, there you are.’ Fred walked towards her. ‘This is handy – you can come home with me and Stan every evening.’

  She fell into step beside him and held out the coins. ‘Look, I got five shillings for one day’s work, and Bet paid for my pie at lunch.’

  ‘Nice going.’ Fred smiled kindly. ‘Keep that up and you’ll be able to pay the rent easily.’

  ‘I will, won’t I?’ She almost skipped along beside him as they walked to the van, oblivious of the cold weather. She had a place to call home, a job, and yesterday she’d had a long letter from Edna telling her all about
the wedding and enclosing a beautiful photograph. And, most important of all, Matthew had recovered after the stabbing. Jenny felt that things couldn’t get much better.

  30

  It was three days before Matt felt strong enough to go out. Going to Ma’s funeral had drained him, but he was glad he’d made the effort. After doing nothing but sleeping, eating and talking to his family, he could feel his energy increasing, and he was eager to get back to the garage and his beloved cars.

  ‘Don’t overtire yourself today,’ his mother admonished, seeing him put on his coat. ‘Where are you going this morning?’

  ‘I thought I’d pop along to the garage and see how they’re getting on. Jake and Harry visited me in hospital a couple of times, but they wouldn’t let me talk business.’

  ‘Quite right too. Remember that the doctor said you must take it easy for a week.’ She cast a worried glance at her son. ‘Christmas is only two weeks away, so couldn’t you go back to work after the New Year?’

  ‘No. I want to get back as soon as possible,’ he said gently. He knew how upset his mother had been and he wouldn’t do anything to worry her, but he must start doing something or he would go crazy. He’d never been one to sit around and idle his time away. ‘And I promise that if I get tired today I’ll come right back.’

  His mother pulled a face. ‘I keep forgetting that you are a grown man now.’

  ‘I am. I’ll be twenty-one next March.’ He bent and kissed her cheek.

  ‘Where have the years gone?’ Her eyes clouded. ‘I was so afraid you weren’t going to see your next birthday.’

  ‘It looked worse than it was.’ Matt fished in his pocket for his gloves and put them on. ‘After I’ve seen Jake and the others, I might call on Jenny and find out what she intends to do now Ma is dead.’

  ‘I’ve been worrying about her as well. I shall be at the centre this afternoon,’ she told him. ‘If she needs anything, ask her to come and see me.’

  ‘All right.’ Matt whistled as he went out to his car. He’d hated being confined, but he’d be careful today because he didn’t want to put back his recovery. Stan had driven Matt’s lovely Singer back here after taking him to the hospital; he couldn’t wait to drive it again. He’d restored this vehicle himself, and it was his pride and joy. He breathed in the cold air, glad to be alive. That attack had been a nasty business. Dr Sterling had told him that if one of the stab wounds had been two inches further to the left, he would have died instantly. It was certainly going to make him look at life differently, and he was determined to make the most of every minute.

  When he arrived, there wasn’t room for another car in the front, so Matt went round the back and into the workshop that way. He stopped in amazement: it was just as crowded inside.

  ‘Matt!’ Jake came towards him with a huge smile on his face. ‘How marvellous to see you up and about. When will you be able to start work again?’

  ‘In a week, maybe sooner.’ He gazed around – there were cars taking up every bit of space in the workshop. Some were expensive models, but there were also a couple of Austin Sevens in a bad state of repair. ‘What’s going on?’

  Harry, Steve and Alan came over, and brought another young man with them. His name was Andy, and he had just been taken on.

  Harry laughed at Matt’s puzzled expression. ‘Unbelievable, isn’t it? What’s happening is that people are buying cars from us and we’re taking their old ones in part payment.’

  ‘It’s working well, Matt.’ Jake’s face fairly glowed as he spoke. ‘We then do up the old cars and sell them. There’s been so much work that we’ve had to take on Andy here, and we’ll be pleased to have you back. When you’re fit, of course.’

  ‘Nearly there, Jake.’ Matt rotated his right shoulder. ‘It’s just a bit sore, but that will soon go.’

  ‘Well, when you start work again you can hold the spanners and make the tea if you get tired.’

  Matt tipped his head back and laughed. ‘Not a chance, Jake, I can’t wait to get my hands greasy again.’

  ‘Don’t suppose you can.’ His boss chuckled, then glanced at the clock. ‘Come over to the Duke of Wellington with Harry and me. We’d like to buy you a beer and a bite to eat.’

  ‘Thanks.’ It had taken Matt a while to get going this morning and it was already lunchtime.

  ‘Steve, look after things for an hour. We’ll only be across the road if you need us.’

  It was lovely to sit with a beer in front of him again and talk about the business to Jake and Harry, wonderful to see their smiling faces. They chatted away with enthusiasm, joking all the time. Matt leant back, sipping his beer, and just revelled in being with them. He had nearly lost his life and that put a different perspective on things. It was as if everything were in sharper focus, making each moment precious.

  After promising to see them again soon, Matt headed for Lambeth. He couldn’t get any reply from Ma’s old house, and he was worried in case Jenny had had to move out at once.

  ‘She ain’t in.’

  ‘Do you know where she is?’ Matt recognized Glad, who was standing on her step with a young child in her arms.

  ‘I’m right pleased to see you looking better, lad.’ Glad gave a nod of approval. ‘Jen’s got a job up The Cut, at the market.’

  ‘What time does she finish?’

  ‘Hard to say. They packs up when there ain’t no more customers. Why don’t you pop along there? I’m sure she’d like to see you.’

  ‘I think I will.’ Matt hesitated for a moment. ‘Does she still live here?’

  ‘’Course, this is her home now. Ma left all her bits and pieces to Jen. Do you want a cup of tea before you go up there?’

  ‘No, thanks, Glad.’

  She nodded. ‘We’re all right grateful to you for what you did for our girl. She’s a fine lass.’

  ‘Yes, she is, and I’d do anything to help her,’ he said, knowing this was absolutely true. When he’d seen her in danger he hadn’t given a thought for his own safety; all that had concerned him was Jenny.

  ‘Thought so.’ Glad smiled. ‘She’s had a rough time, but she don’t ask for no favours in life. She deserves better than this, though. From the moment we met her, my Fred said she was special, and she is.’

  ‘I know she is, Glad. Where is she working at the market?’

  ‘Just ask for Bet Hawkins’s stall. You’ll find her there.’ The baby began to grizzle. ‘Oops, he wants his dinner and changing by the feel of him.’ With a grimace she disappeared back into the house.

  Matt got in his car and drove to the market. Leaving his car in the next street, he began to wander along The Cut, gazing at all the stalls. He had never been down here before, but it looked as if you could buy just about anything, and from the shouting it was obvious that each stallholder was determined to outdo the others. Hearing his name called, he stopped and saw Fred and Stan waving to him. He walked over to their colourful vegetable stall and shook hands with them.

  ‘Matt, it’s good to see you about again.’ Stan smiled broadly. ‘How are you feeling now?’

  ‘Stronger, thanks. I didn’t have time at Ma’s funeral, but I’d like to thank you both for getting me to the hospital so quickly.’

  ‘Think nothing of it.’ Fred gave a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘We’ve already had a note from you and a letter from your pa. Anyway, it’s us who should be thanking you for saving our Jen from hurt.’

  Matt was struck by the way everyone from Forest Road referred to her as ‘our Jen’. She had adapted to their life so well that you would almost believe she had been born there – until you heard her speak, of course. ‘I’ve just been round to your place and Glad told me Jen was working here.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Fred came from behind the stall, put his hand on Matt’s shoulder and pointed further down. ‘See that crowd?’

  He nodded.

  ‘You’ll find her there with old Bet.’

  He could hear the laughter as he got near. When he reac
hed the stall, he stood at the back of the group of people, watching with amusement. Like everyone else in the market, Jenny was swathed in just about every bit of clothing she possessed. Her nose was nearly as red as the scarf she was wearing, but she was laughing as she joked and cajoled people into buying from them. There wasn’t any attempt to hide her cultured accent, and Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he realized exactly how much she had changed. She was who she was, no pretence, no hiding her identity. This was Eugenie, who preferred to be called Jenny. She was secure in her new life, confident and loved. He didn’t know much about her father, but the rest of her family seemed to care little for her, except as an object to be manipulated. Though why that should be was still a mystery.

  ‘Come on, one and six for ten tea cloths. It’s a bargain! You won’t get an offer like that again – they’re going up to one and nine tomorrow.’

  Jenny’s voice brought Matt out of his musing.

  ‘A tanner for six,’ someone shouted.

  ‘Now, now, sir.’ Jenny placed her hands on her hips. ‘That’s rather mean, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s worse than that!’ Bet joined in and glared at the man in question. ‘You’re a tight old git, Jack. Surely you can spend a bit more than that on your lovely wife?’

  The crowd roared in glee. ‘You tell ’im Bet.’

  Matt couldn’t resist joining in. ‘I’ll give you two shillings for six!’ A hush fell on the crowd as they turned to stare at him. ‘And a kiss.’

  ‘Who from?’ Bet chortled. ‘My lovely young helper or me?’

  ‘Both of you, of course. I want value for my money.’

  There were cheers and whistles coming from everyone now. ‘Come on, Bet. It ain’t everyday you get an offer like that.’

  The outrageous offer had been made on the spur of the moment, and Matt wondered if he’d gone too far and embarrassed Jen, but she was laughing along with everyone else. He walked towards her with the two shillings in his hand.

  He got a quick peck from Bet, and, much to the crowd’s delight, she pretended to be so overcome she had to sit down and fan herself with a tea cloth. Still laughing, Jenny came from behind the stall, stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his cheek. It was only a brief, gentle touch, but Matt felt it right through him.