Pastures New

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘Have you got an estate agent?’ asked Phil.

  ‘Yes, he’ll be coming round and taking photos and setting the wheels in motion. I shall be sorry to leave in a way. I’ve made friends round here, and I shall miss you, of course. But we’ll keep in touch, won’t we?’

  ‘Of course we will,’ said Janice, ‘and we wish you all the best, don’t we, Phil?’

  ‘We certainly do … Another glass of sherry, Bella?’

  ‘Oh, no, thank you, dear. One is quite enough for me. I won’t stay much longer. I know your time together is precious; you both work so hard.’

  She left after they had chatted about this and that: Sarah’s progress and how the cafe was faring after the Christmas and New Year period.

  ‘Well, that’s a surprise, isn’t it?’ said Janice. ‘I shall miss Bella but I’m sure she’s doing the right thing. It must be a cold sort of job in the winter; there’s not much heat in the shop because of the flowers.’

  ‘Yes …’ said Phil thoughtfully. ‘It’s a good shop, though – nice and roomy.’ He looked enquiringly at Janice. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ he asked with a half-smile.

  ‘I haven’t thought much at all yet, except about Bella leaving. But I can guess the way your mind is working!’

  ‘Do you think we could?’ Phil’s eyes were shining with enthusiasm. ‘It’s an ideal opportunity, the shop next door becoming vacant. We were talking about extending, weren’t we?’

  ‘Only tentatively,’ said Janice. ‘You were doing most of the talking and I was listening! But I really thought it was more of a pipe dream. I know you mentioned that we might look for a house nearby so that we could turn the upstairs into a restaurant.’

  ‘But this would make more sense, wouldn’t it? If we were to combine our place and Bella’s shop it would give us a much larger dining area. And we’d have lots more space to play with upstairs – two extra bedrooms, maybe. You know that Sarah really needs a room of her own.’

  ‘It would mean a lot of structural work, though; knocking down walls and goodness knows what else.’

  ‘It could be done. Lots of people buy the premises next door when they want to expand. It’s too good a chance to miss, Janice.’

  ‘Oh, stop, Phil! You’re making me dizzy! Do you really think it’s possible?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. We’re doing well …’

  ‘There’s been a lull since Christmas …’

  ‘But it’s picking up again. I’ve quite a few evening bookings, and in February we could do Valentine evenings.’

  ‘We’d have to close down, though, while the work was going on.’

  ‘Not necessarily … Well, maybe for a week or two. But it would be worth it in the long run.’

  ‘Let’s sleep on it, Phil,’ said Janice. ‘I’m overwhelmed at the moment. We’d need to talk nicely to our bank manager and find a firm of builders who are reliable. There are so many cowboys on that sort of job.’

  ‘Very true, but the firm we had before were OK, weren’t they?’

  ‘This is a much bigger job, making two premises into one. It’s certainly ambitious, Phil.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but what is it they say? You have to speculate in order to accumulate.’

  ‘That’s all very well, but I don’t want us to get into deep water and find we’ve taken on too much.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we won’t. I’m a good swimmer! But, as you say, we’ll sleep on it. Let’s have a cup of tea and forget about it for now. Then we’ll see what tomorrow brings.’

  But Phil knew that he would feel exactly the same the following day.

  In January, a new term started in colleges and schools all over the country.

  Ian and Sophie said goodbye as they finished their holiday jobs at Grundy’s, promising to write and to meet … who could say when? The next long holiday would be at Easter. Ian didn’t know if Phil would need any assistance at that time of year. Besides, the holiday season would be starting in Blackpool and the students were often engaged temporarily by the seaside hotels.

  It was with mixed feelings that Ian retuned home. He had enjoyed Christmas with Janice and Phil, and when his dad and Norma had visited they had all got along well together. Sophie, who was by no means a shy girl, had made a good impression on them. Ian had benefited from her friendship. She had brought him out of the protective shell he had formed around himself and helped him to come to terms with his feelings about his father and Norma.

  He was sad to part from Sophie; on the other hand, he was looking forward to getting back to college and the course that he was enjoying so much. He had mixed feelings, too, about seeing Darren again. Would there be any constraint or embarrassment between them? he wondered. He had found the incident unnerving, and it had worried him, probably more than it might have worried other lads who were more worldly-wise than he was.

  However, when he found himself in the same group as Darren, the young man behaved as though nothing untoward had happened. Like Ian, he was ready to apply himself to the next part of the course. It promised to be an interesting term.

  Every so often the students put on a three-course meal, sometimes at lunchtime, sometimes in the evening, to which people from outside the college were invited. A reasonable charge was made for the meal and it was a chance for the students to show off their skills, not only in the cooking and presentation of it but in the serving and waiting at the tables. The next such occasion was to be towards the end of March, and Ian decided, as it was an evening meal, that he would invite his dad and Norma to come along.

  ‘It’s not free, though,’ he told them. ‘And you need tickets because the numbers are limited.’

  ‘We’d love to come, wouldn’t we, Alec?’ said Norma. ‘And I’m sure it’ll be worth every penny.’

  They had received a letter from Janice and Phil at the beginning of February with some very interesting and surprising news. They were buying the florist’s shop next door and were extending their business.

  ‘It’s all in the early stages yet,’ Janice had written. ‘We managed to get a bank loan, but don’t worry, we’re not overreaching ourselves. The cafe and the evening bookings are doing well and we’re sure we’re making a good move. We need more living space anyway, with Sarah growing up. At the moment we are in consultation with the builders to sort out the best way to tackle this project, so they should start work quite soon …’

  ‘By heck! That’s an ambitious move,’ said Alec. ‘But I always thought Phil was a go-ahead sort of lad. Well, jolly good luck to them! I hope they’re not biting off more than they can chew.’

  ‘Phil knows what he’s doing,’ said Ian. ‘He said he wanted to build up the evening trade and make Grundy’s a name that everyone knows about. I hope it goes well for them.’

  Ian had other things on his mind, though. Sophie had not been writing as regularly, though he knew she was busy with her college work and he was not the world’s best letter writer. It wasn’t really possible to contact her by phone, which would have been simpler. Then, in mid-February – just before St Valentine’s Day – she wrote to say that she felt it was only fair to tell him that she was seeing someone else, a fellow student she had met at one of the weekly dances. I hope we can still be friends, she wrote, but we’d decided, hadn’t we, that we didn’t want to get serious?

  Ian found himself confiding in Norma, rather than his father, when she commented that he looked a bit down in the dumps.

  ‘Yes, I am,’ he replied with a wry grin. ‘Very aptly put, actually. Sophie has dumped me.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Norma. ‘Sophie’s a lovely girl – we like her very much. But you’re only …’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Ian interrupted her. ‘I’m only young and she was my first girlfriend … but I really liked her. I suppose I knew this might happen, though, with her being at a college with so many men around.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true. But there are girls at your college, aren’t there?’ />
  ‘Yes, of course, about as many girls as men. Some are older; they’ve done other jobs before but some are around my age. I’ve not been interested, though.’

  ‘Well, sometimes someone comes along when you least expect it. You never know what’s round the next corner. You make sure you enjoy your leisure time as well as your work. We know you’re working very hard but make some time to have fun, eh?’

  Ian smiled at her. ‘Yes … thanks, Norma. I’ll try.’

  There were times when he found that he liked her very much.

  At the other side of the Pennines, Holly Clarkson was enjoying her first term at Sunnybank playgroup. She referred to it as school, not to be outshone by her elder brother. Every day she came home singing a new song or reciting a little jingle they had learnt.

  ‘I’m a little teapot, short and stout; here’s my handle, here’s my spout …’ she chorused, complete with actions.

  They were provided with milk and biscuits at a mid-morning break and the session ended at half past twelve when the mothers – or sometimes grandmothers – came to collect them.

  Cissie was pleased at the way Holly had settled into the playgroup, but she had never really doubted that she would. She had been a very easy child so far, usually obedient and with a very loving nature. Seeing her friend, Val, struggling at times with Russell, Cissie realized how fortunate she had been with her own children.

  The house felt strangely empty, though, with the two of them out every morning. It had been quiet when Paul started school but now it was even more so. Cissie had more time to do her household tasks and more time for herself. It was blissful, at times, to sit down for half an hour to read a magazine and enjoy a cup of coffee and a cigarette. But Cissie was really an energetic person and she soon realized that this would not do. She had thought about getting a part-time job, as she had mentioned to her family at Christmas, but she had not really considered how this would work in practice. Holly was away for only three-and-a-half hours, nine till twelve thirty. There was little time for her to do a job and be back in time to meet Holly.

  She had toyed with the idea of asking Walter’s mother to meet her, if and when she got a job, but that did not seem fair; her mother-in-law was a busy person and she had her own daily routine. There was her friend, Megan, though … It had occurred to her, fleetingly, that she might be able to help, then Cissie had put the idea to one side. It would be too much to ask of her friend.

  Megan lived a few doors away from the Clarksons. She had a daughter, Kelly, who was a little older than Holly, and a much younger boy.

  ‘You’re quite keen on getting a job, aren’t you?’ she said one day towards the end of February, when they were walking home after leaving the children.

  ‘Well, it was just an idea,’ said Cissie, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘It’s been so bloomin’ cold though just lately that I’ve been glad to get home to the fire. But spring’s on its way so I might see what I can do. It’s not so easy, though, with …’

  ‘With the children, I know,’ said Megan. ‘But stop worrying about Holly. I’ll meet her from playgroup, then she can have a bit of lunch with me and Kelly. I suppose you’re thinking of just a morning job, not all day?’

  ‘Good heavens, no! I say, that’s real good of you, Megan. I’m not desperate to get a job but it would help with extras and I might have a bit of money to spare for myself. Walter doesn’t say much but I know things are not too good at the mill. You never know who’ll be next for the chop.’

  ‘Not Walter, surely?’

  ‘Probably not, but you never know. Thanks, Megan; I’m really pleased about that.’

  ‘I sometimes think I’d like a job myself – get out of the house for a bit – but Ryan’s only just turned one so it’ll be a long while before I can do it. Harry earns good money, though; not the poshest of jobs but he doesn’t complain. And it’s surprising what they pick up on their travels. Some folk have more money than sense!’

  Harry Price was a refuse collector – or dustbin man – who often came home with spoils of the job: almost new household goods that people had thrown out. Megan had recently acquired a radio and a food mixer.

  ‘So what do you fancy doing then?’ she asked. ‘What sort of job? You wouldn’t want to go back to the mill, would you?’

  ‘I can’t, even if I wanted to; there’s no jobs going there. I’d like a change. Not a cleaning job! I don’t really like cleaning our own house but I do it ’cause I want it to look nice. Perhaps a shop job; I’ve never done that sort of work but I could learn. I’m not stupid. I’ll have a look around when I’m in town and see if there’s any adverts in the paper.’

  ‘Good luck hunting then,’ said Megan. ‘I’ll be ready to help as soon as you need me.’

  Cissie’s favourite place in Halifax was the old Victorian market hall. It was a colourful and interesting place, always busy whatever the time of day. The aroma from the various stalls filled your nostrils as soon as you entered. Pleasant smells, though, from the cheese and fish stalls, and the scent of flowers, fresh fruit and vegetables.

  It was one of Holly’s favourite places, too. There was a tempting sweet stall and Cissie, who had never been the sort of mother to worry too much about her children eating sweets, always treated her to some of her favourites – Jelly Babies, midget gems or chocolate drops – making sure they took some home for Paul as well.

  Cissie, too, was unable to resist the homemade fudge and treacle toffee, and some of Walter’s favourite peanut brittle.

  She found it a real treat now, however, to be able to browse around the stalls on her own without Holly tugging at her, wanting to look at the toy stall or the bakery where Cissie would let her choose a cake for her tea. Holly was a well-behaved child, though, not the sort that you often saw in town yelling their heads off and being pushed and pulled around by harassed mothers.

  Cissie was enjoying her freedom but she was still looking out for a job. One morning in mid-March she was paying her weekly visit to the market. She had bought some fat pork sausages for tea and a piece of brisket beef for the weekend from one of the many butchers’ stalls, along with potatoes, carrots and sprouts, apples and bananas, fresh crusty bread and a selection of cakes, a chunk of Wensleydale cheese and their weekly treats from the sweet stall.

  Her bags were heavy; too heavy for her to walk home – she would have to get the bus. But before that she would have a sit down and a cup of coffee at the little cafe in the centre of the market. It was always busy with shoppers and workers from round about who popped in for a quick snack. There were various toasted items, currant teacakes, sandwiches, soup, cakes and pastries on offer, but Cissie only wanted a cup of coffee – and a cigarette – to help her to relax before going home then collecting Holly from the playgroup. As usual, she had spent longer than she should have mooching around, so she had little enough time to spare.

  The waitresses were friendly and cheerful and the service was brisk. She was revived by the strong, sweet coffee and a few drags of her cigarette, then she was ready for off again. She paid the bill and picked up her heavy bags. It was only as she was going out that she saw the notice on the wall near the entrance: Staff required. Apply within. And to think she had almost missed it.

  She retraced her steps and spoke to the woman on the cash desk. She knew that this was Mrs Laycock, the owner, who did her share at anything that needed doing: helping in the small kitchen area, serving at the tables and dealing with the money. She knew Cissie quite well by sight because of her frequent visits there.

  Cissie pointed across to the notice. ‘I’ve only just seen that and I’m looking for a job; only part-time, though. Is it for a waitress?’

  ‘I’ve only put it up this morning,’ said Mrs Laycock, ‘and you’re the first to enquire. Yes, we need a couple of waitresses. Moira’s leaving us – she’s having a baby – and we’ll need another one ’cause we’re always busier in the spring and summer. Part-time, you said, love?’

  ‘Ye
s, only mornings, while my little girl’s at playgroup. I’d have to collect her at about … two o’clock, I suppose. My friend said she’d look after her if I got a job.’

  ‘Well, it looks as if you’ve got one, love, if you’d like it. We’ll give you a try, anyway, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ve seen the way you look after your little girl. Never any trouble, was she?’

  ‘No, she’s a good little lass.’ Cissie was feeling quite overwhelmed. ‘Gosh! Can’t believe this. You’re really saying I can have the job?’

  ‘Well, let’s say a week’s trial, to be fair to all of us.’ Mrs Laycock smiled at her. ‘Can you start Monday, nine o’clock? Oh … and can you manage Saturdays?’

  Cissie hesitated before saying, ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to sort it out. Thanks ever so much. I’ll see you Monday, then.’

  ‘Wait a minute …’ Mrs Laycock laughed. ‘I don’t even know your name, do I?’

  ‘I’m Cissie – Cissie Clarkson, and I live on Jubilee Road.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I know it. Not too far away. And I’m Ada; we don’t stand on ceremony here, so long as we all pull our weight. I’ll look forward to working with you, Cissie.’

  TEN

  Easter that year was at the beginning of April. By that time Cissie was working happily at her new job. She had not really thought, when taking the job, about Saturday mornings or the school holidays. The playgroup stayed open but Paul would need someone to look after him.

  Walter had agreed to take care of both children on Saturday mornings. He did not work on that day and did not mind as long as he could attend the football match on Saturday afternoon.

  Walter’s mother, and Cissie’s mother – rather less willingly – agreed to have Paul during the school holidays. It was only for the mornings and he was a well-behaved child, most of the time. Hannah Foster actually enjoyed the mornings when he was in her care, but she never stopped reminding Cissie that she was doing her a tremendous favour.