Dream a Little Dream

by Joan Jonker

  Will Lathom had been complaining about feeling off-colour for some weeks, but had struggled to carry on working because he had plenty of orders and didn’t want to let people down. But one morning when Robert called for him, Mrs Lathom invited him in and said her husband was ill in bed, and he’d asked her to say he wanted a word with Robert. It was plain to see the man was in a bad state, with a racking cough and high temperature. And worrying about the four removal jobs they had for that day certainly wasn’t helping. The people would have all their belongings packed ready to move, and if he let them down, word would get around like wildfire that he wasn’t reliable and his reputation would suffer.

  Robert had stood at the bottom of the bed and tried to calm the man down. He said he knew the job inside out, and if he had help, he knew he could manage. There was a lad in his street who would be glad of a day’s work, and if Will agreed, he’d pick the lad up and get started. That first day had been a nightmare. The young lad, Jeff, was willing enough, but wasn’t used to handling furniture or breakables, and Robert needed eyes in the back of his head, making sure nothing was scratched or broken. But he was determined to show he could manage the round until Mr Lathom was better, so he and young Jeff ran themselves ragged in the process. And when he knocked at the Lathoms’ house that night, an hour later than the usual time for finishing, he was almost dead on his feet. He passed over two pounds five shillings and sixpence that night, just for one day’s work. It had been a busy day, granted, but even so Mr Lathom must be earning at least ten pounds a week. And that was after he’d paid Robert’s wages and the bloke a few streets away where the horse and cart were stabled. So as he walked home that night, bone weary, Robert told himself that although the day had been hard, he’d learned something. That it was a mug’s game to work for someone if you had the wherewithal to start your own business. It was a pipe dream, he’d never have the money to do that, but dreams didn’t cost anything.

  Will Lathom’s health deteriorated and he was never able to return to work. So one day, a month after Robert had started to run the business on his own, the older man patted the side of his bed and told him to sit down. Then, with a catch in his voice, he said the doctor didn’t give him much hope, so he wanted to sort his affairs out. He needed to make sure his wife and kids would be all right, so he had a proposition to put to Robert. He had a bit of money put by, but he wanted to make sure his family had enough to keep the wolf from the door. So he asked if they could continue with the present arrangement for another six months, giving him time to build on his savings. Then at the end of that time he’d be prepared to sell the business to Robert for the sum of five pounds. That included the business and the horse and cart. And it would all be done legally, of course, drawn up by a Commissioner for Oaths.

  The emotions that ran through the young man’s mind that day would stay forever in his memory. Sadness that Mr Lathom was dying, because he’d grown really fond of the man. Then excitement that in six months he’d be his own boss. But after the initial sensation, came reality. He’d never be able to save five pounds in six months because he didn’t have that much to himself once he paid his mam his keep. And he couldn’t, or wouldn’t leave her without because she was struggling as it was and would never manage on the pittance his dad earned.

  He’d racked his brains on the walk home that night, but when he was putting the key in the door, he still hadn’t found a solution. It would take a miracle, and who had ever heard of a miracle happening in Seaforth? Best to forget about it. He should have known it was too good to be true.

  ‘Robert, what are you thinking of?’ Edwina stood at the side of his chair, a frown on her face. ‘Dinner is ready and you haven’t even changed yet.’

  ‘I decided not to bother changing.’ He looked at her through narrowed eyes, remembering her as she was all those years ago, and now seeing what she had become. ‘I’ve spent the time reminiscing about the old days, instead. I’d just got to the part where Will Lathom had offered to sell me his business for five pound, and I couldn’t see a way clear to raising the money. D’you remember Will Lathom, Edie? I used to work for him before I started going out with you.’

  Edwina flinched at his use of her old name. ‘You would have been better employed making yourself respectable to sit down to a meal. What good does it do to hark back to the old days?’

  ‘Oh, I often do it. And just lately I’ve been wondering if life wouldn’t have been better if my mother hadn’t struggled to help me raise that five pound. In gaining the wealth that we now have, we lost something that is far more important. We lost the ability to laugh and love. Sadly, there isn’t much of either in this house. Our old neighbours in Seaforth would be green with envy if they saw us now, but I think they are the lucky ones. At forty-six I’m still quite a young man, with the needs of a young man. But I don’t have the kind of loving wife who would find pleasure in satisfying those needs.’

  Edwina heard the voices of her eldest daughter and son in the hall, and lifted a hand to silence her husband. What was the man thinking about, he was quite mad! ‘The children are here, shall we take our seats at the table?’ She glanced nervously at him as he took his seat at the top of the table. Surely he wouldn’t bring up the bad old days and embarrass her? The children had no recollection of being poor because by the time Victoria was born, and Nigel two years later, they were living in a six-roomed house and were quite comfortably off. The horse and cart had long gone, and Robert had two motorised removal vans and employed four men.

  ‘Good evening, Father.’ Victoria smiled across the table. She was a very attractive girl who had inherited her mother’s colouring, with mousy hair and hazel eyes. But she had a clear complexion and a fine set of white teeth. She had very good taste in clothes and chose those which showed off her slender figure and shapely legs to advantage. ‘Have you been naughty? I do believe I smell cigar smoke.’

  ‘Your father’s had a busy day and needed to relax.’ Edwina spoke before her husband could answer. It was to act as a warning to her daughter and also, hopefully, to soothe Robert. ‘He spent an hour in his favourite chair and I’m sure he feels much better.’

  ‘You work too hard, Father.’ Nigel had the same mousy hair as his sister, but there the resemblance ended. He was pale of face, with watery hazel eyes and a weak chin. Everything about him was effeminate. His mannerisms, mincing walk and high-pitched voice. ‘You should leave the work to those you employ. That’s what you pay them for.’ He giggled like a girl, thinking what he was about to say was funny. ‘After all, what’s the point of keeping a dog and barking yourself, eh, what?’

  Robert was saved from answering when Abbie entered the room. She came in smiling, like a breath of fresh air. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, I didn’t hear the bell.’

  ‘That is no excuse,’ Edwina said. ‘You have a clock in your room and you know we dine at seven, not ten past.’

  ‘Are you going to tell Agnes off, too?’ Robert asked. ‘As you remarked, it’s ten past seven and no dinner on the table. Oh dear, oh dear!’

  ‘Is somebody taking my name in vain?’ Agnes pushed open the door with her hip, a huge soup tureen in her hands. While the housekeeper had told Robert not to change if he didn’t feel like it, she had herself changed into a smart black dress with a white lace pinny tied around her ample waist. The white lace headpiece which Edwina insisted she wore when serving dinner had slipped sideways making her look slightly tipsy, and brought sly grins to the faces of Victoria and Nigel. Luckily Agnes didn’t see them, or she wouldn’t have thought twice about telling them off. ‘I’m all to pot, tonight, so would one of yer serve the soup while I go and make sure the potatoes don’t burn?’

  ‘Really!’ Edwina tutted. ‘You do seem to be disorganised tonight, Agnes.’

  The tureen now safely in the middle of the table, Agnes turned on her mistress. ‘If yer didn’t insist on me getting meself all dolled up like a dog’s dinner, I wouldn’t have had to leave the dinner to cook itself.’ S
he looked pretty formidable with her hands on her hips and an ‘I dare you’ expression on her chubby face. ‘I’ve only got one pair of bleedin’ hands, so it’s up to you. Serve the soup yerself or take a chance on yer dinner being burned.’

  ‘I’ll serve the soup, Agnes.’ Abbie scraped her chair back. She’d do anything for this woman who showed her more love than her mother did. Whose arms she’d run to when she was little and had fallen over and hurt herself. It was always the housekeeper who kissed her wounds better. And it was still those arms she ran to when anything went wrong or she thought she was being treated unfairly. ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘Thank yer, Miss.’ With a withering look, the housekeeper left the room. ‘Lazy buggers,’ she chunnered on her way back to the kitchen. ‘Won’t even get off their backsides to feed themselves. If it wasn’t for the master and Miss Abbie, I’d have told them where to put their bleedin’ job and I’d be packing me bags right now.’

  ‘Really, Mother, she goes too far,’ Victoria said. ‘You need to have words with her so she knows her place.’

  ‘I would, darling, but she flies off the handle so quickly. And if she took it into her head to leave, we’d never get another housekeeper like her. There isn’t one of my friends who wouldn’t snap her up if she left here.’

  ‘But Agnes isn’t going to leave here,’ Robert said, watching Abbie attending to the soup and feeling disgust that the rest of his family thought they should be waited on hand and foot. ‘And anyone who upsets her will feel my displeasure. I hope I’ve made myself clear?’

  Oh dear, Edwina thought, it seems as though everyone is deliberately being difficult tonight. But the fear of being humiliated by her husband made her change the subject quickly. ‘Are you going out tonight, Victoria?’

  ‘Yes, Charles is calling for me about half eight. He can’t wait to try his new car out, so we’re going for a run in it.’ Victoria only ever mixed with those in the same social class as herself. She’d had several boyfriends, all sons of wealthy men, but in each case the courtship lasted no longer than a few months. Her reason was that they bored her rigid. But one thing Victoria Dennison was not, and that was stupid. She pandered to her mother because she was the one who handed over her monthly allowance and it was easy to wheedle extra cash from her for a new dress or hat. But Victoria never lost sight of the fact that at the end of the day, it was her father who held the purse-strings. He could, if he chose to be awkward, make them all dance to his tune. So putting on her brightest smile, she said, ‘You haven’t seen Charles’s new car, have you, Father? It really is very swish. We went for a run in it last night, just as far as the Pier Head because it was late, but everyone we passed turned their heads.’

  Is that all you want out of life, for people to notice and envy you? Robert didn’t speak the words but that is how he felt. For some unknown reason he was seeing his family in a different light today, and he didn’t like what he was seeing. He must share the blame with his wife; he should have noticed sooner that spoiling the children wasn’t the right recipe for making them kind and caring. Then he mentally corrected himself. Only two of his children had been pampered and spoilt. The youngest, Abbie, could easily have turned out the same way, but she hadn’t; she was unspoilable. ‘No, I haven’t seen Charles’s car, I’m usually in the study when he calls. Besides, you know I don’t share his passion for cars. They are a means of transport to me, nothing more.’

  Nigel, who spent the best part of every day in the company of his eldest sister, was sensitive to her mood swings. Why she wanted to be nice to Father he didn’t know, but she must have a reason. ‘Yes, it’s a jolly spiffing car. You must tell me what speed Charles gets it up to tonight on the country roads.’ He looked around to see if any face showed a spark of interest, and when he saw none, he tried something no one could argue with. ‘I say, this soup is absolutely delicious.’

  Robert laid down his spoon and using the heavy linen napkin, he wiped his mouth. ‘I hope you pass that compliment on to Agnes, Nigel.’

  ‘Oh, absolutely, Father! I’ll tell her when she brings the dinner through.’

  ‘Why not tell her when you help your sister carry the soup plates out? That would save Agnes making two journeys. And while you’re there, would you ask her to serve me my meal in the study, please? I have a headache and need to be quiet.’ Robert saw the look of disappointment on his youngest daughter’s face and hastened to add, ‘Before I go, I want you all to know that Abbie has expressed a wish to go to commercial college and I have agreed that she may.’

  Victoria gasped. ‘Commercial college! Whatever for?’

  ‘If I remember correctly, Victoria, when you were her age it was your heartfelt wish to spend a year at finishing school. I never at that time asked “Whatever for?” Your wish was granted, and now I am granting your sister’s wish. And I want it known that I am more than happy to do so.’ Robert rose to his feet. He was still a very handsome man, tall and well-built. His raven-black hair was now grey at the temples and this gave him an air of distinction. His brows were black and bushy, his eyes a deep brown and he had a strong jawline. ‘If you will excuse me, I will retire to the study. When the meal is over, Abbie, join me and we can discuss the way forward.’

  There was complete silence until the door was closed behind him, then Edwina hissed, ‘You little madam! You know that’s going against my wishes.’

  ‘It’s what I want, Mother. I intend to go out to work, and to get a decent job I need qualifications. I won’t get those at a finishing school.’

  ‘Don’t you dare talk to me in that tone. You have no thought for what I would like for you. You want this, and you intend doing that. Selfish, selfish, selfish! You are a very ungrateful girl, Abigail, and you may find you live to rue the day you went against me.’

  ‘Oh, steady on, Mother!’ Nigel said. ‘If it’s what Abbie wants to do, why not let her?’

  ‘Keep out of it, Nigel,’ Victoria said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. At twenty-two, she was four years older than her younger sister, who was not yet eighteen, and she had never felt any sisterly bonding between them. The difference in their ages meant they had different interests and little in common. It was only in the last year she’d noticed her sister blossoming into a very pretty girl. And envy had set in. For Abigail had inherited her father’s looks and colouring. She had jet-black, thick luxuriant hair, black eyebrows perfectly arched, long black lashes, a slightly turned-up nose and a set of strong white teeth. All set in a heart-shaped face, above a body beginning to show signs of a firm bosom, slim waist and hips, and long shapely legs. Competition was something Victoria wasn’t used to, and she’d be quite happy for her sister to be sent away to finishing school for a year.

  ‘I’m not selfish, Mother, and I’m not ungrateful.’ Abbie thought her mother was being very unfair. But then she’d noticed for years that she wasn’t given the same treatment as her brother and sister. She hadn’t worried about it because she knew her father loved her, but she couldn’t bow down to pressure now, she had to stick up for herself. ‘I don’t know what you have against me going to commercial college. My best friend in school is going – her parents think it’s a jolly good idea.’

  ‘If, by your best friend, you mean Rowena, I’m not surprised her parents agree. They are no doubt looking to her to find a job because they are not particularly well off. You are not in the same position. You do not need to go to work.’

  ‘But I want to! And what you said about Rowena wasn’t fair. Her—’ Abbie broke off when the housekeeper entered the room. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Agnes, I was supposed to take the plates out to save you a journey.’

  The housekeeper could feel the tension in the air. She’d heard part of what the girl said, but not enough to know why she sounded so upset. The mistress had a face on her like thunder, but that wasn’t anything new, she was a miserable cow at the best of times. Victoria was wearing that supercilious expression that made Agnes want to clock her one, and
Nigel was looking very uncomfortable. But it was the young girl’s flushed face and tear-filled eyes that brought forth a reaction. ‘What’s wrong, Miss Abbie? Is someone having a go at yer?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, Agnes, thank you.’

  Victoria clicked her tongue. ‘I really don’t think it’s any of your concern, Agnes. How dare you interfere in what is a private family matter! Now please remove these plates and bring in the dinner. I have a visitor coming soon.’

  Chubby arms were folded under a voluptuous bosom as Agnes took her stand. ‘Who was yer bleedin’ slave before I came along, eh? I might work here, but I’ll not be walked all over by an upstart like you. If yer want those plates removing, do it yer bleedin’ self, ’cos I’ve finished fetching and carrying for you lot. I’m off to pack me bags.’

  Edwina jumped to her feet. ‘Please, Agnes, don’t be hasty. Victoria didn’t mean it to come out the way it did. We are all very fond of you and appreciate your work. We’d be devastated if you left us.’

  ‘While yer were being devastated, yer’d be bleedin’ hungry as well, ’cos there’s not one of yer would know what to do with a pan. Except Miss Abbie, of course, at least she does try. But that’s your hard luck, nowt to do with me ’cos I’ve had a bellyful and I’m off.’

  Edwina caught up with her at the door. ‘Please, Agnes, I beg of you. We’d be broken-hearted if you left. Come back and let Victoria apologise.’

  ‘If she was sorry she’d have said so before now. And an apology is no good if it’s got to be dragged out of someone. Perhaps she’ll watch what she says in future, ’cos once words have been spoken, yer can’t take them back.’ The housekeeper pulled her arm free. ‘She’s looked down her snotty nose at me for the last time.’