by Cathy Sharp
It must have been John. Lainie only came in if she wanted to polish the furniture, and mostly I did my room myself.
Why had John wanted to look at my things? It was puzzling but I soon dismissed him from my thoughts. He might be Lainie’s son but he wasn’t important to me.
I had other things to think about – like that kiss Paul had given me. Why had I let him kiss me again? Matthew would be terribly hurt if he knew, and there was nothing between Paul and me, never could be.
Paul was such a strange person. Why had he told me that he and Mary would hurt me in the end? They were my friends. Why should they hurt me?
Mrs Simpson came in for her final fitting midweek and declared herself satisfied with the almost-finished product. I told her she could collect it at the end of the week.
‘The seaming is excellent,’ she said. ‘You told me the girl’s name was Margaret, didn’t you? Send her my compliments.’
Margaret was pleased when I passed on the message.
‘I’ve only done what we always do,’ she said, blushing a little.
‘But you are very conscientious, and I always know I can rely on you. I was wondering if you would like to meet my family?’ I asked. ‘I’m going over on Sunday for tea and I thought we might go to a concert in the park if it’s fine and then pay them a visit.’
‘Oh, yes, that would be lovely,’ she agreed at once. ‘It’s nice of you to invite me to your home, Amy.’
‘It’s not a particularly nice area, Margaret, but I think you will like Mum and Dad – my brother Terry, too.’
Margaret was a pretty girl and well brought up. The sort of girl I thought my brother should be taking out.
We talked for a while about various alterations that had come in that week, then about a musical show that Margaret and one of her friends had been to the previous evening.
‘What I like best is the lovely costumes and the dancing,’ Peggy piped up from her corner. ‘I saw that Isadora Duncan once. She was wonderful.’
‘She’s started a school of dancing somewhere abroad,’ Sally said. ‘I read about it in the paper … But I’d rather see a good variety show. Give me the good old Music Hall every time. I used to love Marie Lloyd. I cried when she died; they say she had a rotten time of it, one way or another, though she always made me laugh when she was on stage.’
It was nice gossiping with the girls in the workroom, but I had work of my own to do elsewhere. I was embroidering a band around the hem of Mary’s latest evening dress and because it was such a big job I had decided to do some of it that morning. Lainie would call me if I was needed in the shop.
My embroidery things were kept in the second drawer of the chest in my room, and when I took the basket out to look for some special beads, I noticed the box I kept some money in was not quite shut.
Instinct made me open it and look at the notes. I realized almost at once that five pounds had gone. I knew exactly how much was there, because I had been saving to buy a new dress. I couldn’t have made a mistake, nor had I taken money from the box recently.
Who could have taken it? Lainie wouldn’t without telling me, even if she had wanted change for the shop, and none of the girls ever came up here. These were Lainie’s private apartments and she would not allow anyone near …
It could only have been John on Sunday afternoon. I’d known immediately that he had been in my room, but I’d thought it was merely curiosity. I’d never thought to look and see if anything was missing.
I made a quick check through my bits of jewellery but as far as I could tell it was only the money that had gone. I felt angry and hurt that he should steal from me. I’d worked hard for that money and I needed a new dress for Mary’s dance. She had asked me on Sunday.
‘You will come down for that, Amy? You’ll need to catch a train on the Friday afternoon and someone will fetch you from the station. I shall want you to stay until after Sunday lunch, then we’ll put you back on the train.’
‘That means two days off work.’
‘Surely your aunt won’t refuse you? It’s not for a few weeks yet. You must be due for a holiday sometime?’
I tried to explain that you had to work for quite a while before you were entitled to take holidays, but I knew that Mary wasn’t listening – and Lainie would let me have the time off if I asked. Mary had also asked my brother, who had told her he wasn’t sure he would be able to make it.
When I asked Lainie about the time off she had looked at me in silence for a moment before agreeing.
‘Don’t do it too often, otherwise the other girls will think I’m favouring you because of our relationship.’
‘It’s a special occasion, Lainie. I’ll work extra hours to make up for it.’
‘You already do enough,’ she said. ‘I have to be a bit careful because of the others, but I really don’t mind. I might ask John if he would like to stay for that weekend.’
Lainie was so happy that she had met her son after all these years. I couldn’t possibly tell her that I suspected him of being a thief …
Perhaps I had miscounted the money after all. In future I would put it somewhere safer.
Seven
My mother was delighted to meet Margaret that weekend. ‘Amy has told us so much about you, Miss Price,’ she said. ‘She says she couldn’t manage without you.’
‘Please call me Margaret.’ She blushed and glanced at me awkwardly. ‘It’s odd that you should say that, Mrs Robinson. I was going to tell Amy today … I’ve had a letter offering me a new job. It’s with a small fashion house making dresses for rich women, and they say they will pay me another two pounds a week. I wanted to know what Amy thought I should do.’
‘When did that come?’ I asked her. ‘It seems very odd. Have you ever been sent a letter like that before?’
‘No. I couldn’t believe it when I read it this morning. There must be dozens of girls looking for work at a place like that. Why should anyone be interested in me?’
‘You’re very good at your job,’ I reminded her. ‘Don’t forget what Mrs Simpson said the other day.’
‘I try to please,’ Margaret agreed. ‘But I’m no better than loads of others. It’s your designs and your ideas that make those dresses so lovely.’
‘It would mean another two pounds a week for you.’
‘Yes, I could do with the money.’ Margaret frowned. ‘But I should be letting you down, Amy.’
‘I could find someone to do the sewing, but it isn’t easy to find a girl who knows how to cut. How did you learn exactly?’
‘My father was a bespoke tailor for years. He showed me, and then I worked for the same firm until he died.’ Margaret smiled a little sadly. ‘He was a good man but he died too young. My mother said he wore himself out working such long hours to make ends meet. She thinks I should take this new job, because the extra money is regular. I suppose I ought to at least find out a bit more.’
‘Let me talk to Lainie. Perhaps we could pay you more.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t want that, unless I did extra hours. If I stay it’s because I want to.’
‘You can’t turn down two pounds a week,’ my mother said. ‘It’s too much to lose, Margaret. If Lainie wants you to stay she will have to pay you.’
I agreed and yet I knew Lainie wouldn’t be happy. Margaret was already paid a fair wage, but if she left I would just have to manage by myself. I could do it but it had made things easier with Margaret to help me.
The subject was dropped when Terry and my father came back for their tea. They had been out for a walk and had stopped to watch a local cricket match being played on the stretch of green by the river.
‘It was just a few lads having fun,’ Terry said, ‘but it was good entertainment and Dad made the best catch of the day.’
‘Life in the old dog yet, eh, son?’ I caught a look between them.
Terry grinned and shook his head, and seeing them at ease together, my worries for my father were eased. My father looked as well a
s he was always telling us he felt.
‘You’re becoming a regular visitor, Amy,’ he said. ‘I shall have you wanting to move back in soon.’
‘No fear of that,’ my mother said. ‘She’s having too much fun, aren’t you, love?’
I agreed that I was and told them that I had been invited to Mary’s dance, which was at the beginning of September – just a few weeks away now.
‘I need a new evening dress,’ I said. ‘I’ve been saving up but I’m not sure I shall have enough for the one I like. It’s twenty pounds in the shop, rather expensive, but I haven’t got time to make anything at the moment.’
‘I’ll lend you the money you need,’ my mother said at once.’
‘I could make you something,’ Margaret offered. ‘I’ve got a machine at home. I shan’t leave for a month, anyway. I couldn’t let Lainie down. I should have to give her time to get someone else to take my place. If we cut your dress out together I could do most of the seaming at home.’
‘Surely Lainie doesn’t charge you the full price for your clothes?’ my mother said, and I could see she had been thinking it through.
‘Of course she doesn’t, Mum. But I’ll need shoes and other things. If I’m going to stay for the weekend, I’ll need at least one other new dress to take with me.’
‘I’ll help you if you need money,’ my father said. ‘Can’t have you looking dowdy, Amy.’
‘She never does,’ Margaret said loyally. ‘Even when Miss Adams and Miss Maitland come in, she looks every bit as nice as they do.’
‘Who is Miss Maitland?’ my mother asked. Her voice hadn’t changed, but I thought she had gone very still, and I noticed something in her manner, the quick exchange of looks between her and my father.
‘That’s Mary’s name. Haven’t I ever mentioned it? I meant to tell you when I first found out, but it must have slipped my mind. I didn’t think it important. She’s just Mary to me.’
‘I don’t think you …’ my mother began and stopped as my father frowned at her. ‘You said you had met Mary’s father, Amy. You thought he was quite nice, didn’t you?’
‘He isn’t often around,’ I said, wondering at the look in her eyes. She seemed nervous and almost frightened, definitely strained. ‘Mary likes to keep her friends to herself. I seldom see Mr Maitland. I think he is away a lot.’
‘It’s a curious name,’ my father said in a carefully measured tone that was supposed to make the enquiry seem casual, but didn’t quite. ‘I knew a Philip Maitland once – do you suppose he might be the same man?’
‘I don’t know, Dad. He did tell me his first name when we were introduced, but I call him Mr Maitland, or sir, and I’m not sure of his first name. He’s a rich man and very busy, I know that much. Mary doesn’t want to talk about him often and I don’t ask questions. I think they live separate lives most of the time. It’s not a nice thing to say, but I don’t think she likes him.’
‘Do you have any idea why she doesn’t like her father, Amy?’
‘I think he wasn’t very kind to her mother, but as I said she doesn’t talk about him often. Why do you want to know about him? Is there something wrong?’
‘Joe, I think we should …’
‘No, Bridget, not just now, my dear.’
I saw the furtive exchange of looks again. They were both worried about something but they didn’t want me to know. Yet it seemed it was because of Mary’s father.
‘The Mr Maitland you knew,’ I said, meeting my father’s gaze. ‘You didn’t like him, did you?’
‘No, not much,’ he said. ‘He wasn’t a nice person, Amy. If I thought it was the same man I might ask you not to go there again – but there must be other people with the same name, and I wouldn’t want to spoil your pleasure for nothing. I expect everything is all right, but I shall make some enquiries.’
‘Joe …’ My mother looked at him anxiously. ‘Shouldn’t we tell her?’
‘Not yet, love. It might not be him.’ He glanced at Margaret, who was talking animatedly to Terry. ‘Leave it with me for a few days.’
‘I wish you would tell me if something is wrong.’
‘Not today,’ my father said and glanced at Margaret again. ‘Best to be sure, Bridget. Don’t worry, Amy. Your mother and I will have a little talk and sort things out. If there’s anything to tell you, I’ll do it next time you come over to see us.’
‘I’ve been talking to Margaret,’ Terry said into the silence that had suddenly fallen. ‘She says that Ivor Novello is on stage next week. Shall we all go and see him? Margaret has already said she would like to go. You’ll come, won’t you, Amy?’
‘Oh, yes, I’d love to,’ I agreed.
My father said that he would think about it, and that we should certainly take my mother as she would enjoy herself, but she shook her head and said that she would rather not.
‘You young ones go and enjoy yourselves. I prefer to listen to the wireless or the gramophone in the evenings these days.’
I was anxious about my mother. She looked really upset. Whatever Mr Maitland had done must have been very unpleasant.
I wished they would tell me what was wrong. I wasn’t a child any longer, but they seemed to think I must be protected. It was obvious that my father wanted to talk things over with Mum before saying anything to me.
Terry took us home later that evening in Dad’s car. He dropped me off first and drove on with Margaret, though she had wanted to catch a tram.
‘I’ll take you home,’ Terry said. ‘It’s no trouble. We might have a drink somewhere on the way.’
I waved goodbye to them and went upstairs to Lainie’s flat. I could hear voices and as I went in I saw a young man sitting in a chair by the window. He stood up as I entered and looked expectant as Lainie introduced us.
‘This is my son, Amy. John, this is Bridget’s daughter.’
He smiled and offered his hand. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, Amy.’
‘I hope it was good.’
I shook his hand. His clasp was firm and his smile pleasant. If I hadn’t suspected him of being a thief, I should have liked him very much. Yet perhaps I was being unfair.
‘John popped over to see me on the spur of the moment,’ Lainie said, looking happier than I remembered seeing her before. ‘We’ve had a really good talk. He says that if I do get married he wouldn’t mind coming to live near us in the country.’
‘I think it would be a good idea for Lainie to make the move while she is still young enough to enjoy life. Why does she want to work all the time if she doesn’t have to?’
‘Oh … No reason,’ I said, surprised. ‘Unless she wants to, of course. I thought you enjoyed having the shop, Lainie?’
‘I do and I don’t,’ she admitted with a sigh. ‘I’ve always had to work, Amy, but Harold is comfortably off and so am I when you think about it. He wouldn’t mind if I sold up altogether.’
I felt disappointed. If Lainie sold the shop instead of letting me run it for her I would be out of a job, and I certainly couldn’t live over the shop with Matthew then. I didn’t remind her of her promise, but I wondered why she had changed her mind, and I thought John must have put the idea into her head.
‘John says there are lots of way to invest the money from the sale,’ Lainie went on. ‘His firm do all that sort of thing for their clients and John knows all about it. He would help me if I wanted him to.’
‘But only if you want,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s your decision, your money.’
For how long? I wondered. Just as long as it took him to wheedle it out of her? It was a mean thought and I smothered it quickly.
‘Yes, it’s your decision, but I shouldn’t make it too quickly if I were you, Lainie. You have always enjoyed the shop and you might miss it. I’ve got something to tell you later, but it will keep until the morning. I’m going to bed now. It was nice to meet you, John.’
‘And to meet you, Amy. Perhaps we could go out one evening – get to know one another?’
‘Perhaps, but not just yet. I’m rather busy at the moment. I have a lot of work to finish for clients. Goodnight.’
He looked disappointed. Had he thought I would be as easy to charm as his mother had been? Another mean thought! I was having them all the time about John Fisher.
I tried to smother my anger and my disappointment, and to think about Lainie’s son in a fair-minded way. It was entirely possible that he was merely thinking about his mother. I ought to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least for the moment.
Besides, I had other things on my mind. I had been going to ask Lainie if she knew anything about Mr Maitland, but now I decided I wouldn’t. Lainie had enough on her mind as it was, and she wasn’t going to be pleased when I told her that Margaret might be leaving us.
‘I couldn’t possibly give her an extra two pounds a week,’ Lainie exclaimed when I told her. ‘It doesn’t stop there, Amy. If the other girls found out they would all want more. Besides, I already pay her more than Peggy and Sally. It wouldn’t be fair to them.’
‘I knew you would think that,’ I said, ‘and I can’t disagree, Lainie. You pay the girls good wages, and it wouldn’t be fair – although Margaret does help me with the cutting for the special dresses.’
‘I know, and I realize you will miss her if she goes,’ Lainie said, looking doubtful. ‘But I’m really not sure about carrying on this design thing, Amy. At the moment we are neither one thing nor the other. We can only make Mary’s dresses and one or two other bits and pieces if you are willing to give all your time to the embroidery. It seems to me you can’t carry on like that forever. Matthew won’t want you to be working all the time when you are married.’
‘No, I don’t suppose he will,’ I admitted, but the disappointment was sharp. ‘I would like to carry on for a while though.’
‘Yes, of course you should,’ she said. ‘I know I suggested that you might like to run this shop for me, Amy, and it would have been up to you what you did then – but if I do decide to sell … Well, I can’t see that we’d want to take on extra staff just for a few months.’
