‘Bloomin’ sauce!’ Ellie was very annoyed by the impertinence of the innercent bird.
‘’E don’t lie, darlin’,’ the Gypsy soothed, coming to the defence of her soothsayer. ‘Jest a feathered finger a’ fate, that’s all ’e is. Aintcher, my chuck?’
Ellie growled away from her fortune and its teller. ‘’E’ll end up in a pie, ’e goes on saying things like that.’
But despite her initial indignation the message took hold, and when she considered it coolly lying in her truckle bed that night with Tess and Maudie, the new baby, kicking on either side of her, she could see the sense of it. She’d been planning to nick herself some clothes from the secondhand stalls in the Lane. Perhaps the bird was trying to tell her secondhand wasn’t good enough. Perhaps she ought to go for something brand new. Be a darn sight more difficult of course, but this was worth it.
But then again there was the business of Godliness. That meant doing the right thing, didn’t it? And she knew it wasn’t right to steal. Tell yer what, she said, partly to herself and partly to that vague God she wasn’t sure she believed in, if I can get mesself the clothes for this job, I’ll turn over a new leaf an’ never steal another thing so long as I live. I’ll keep mesself nice and clean, earn me own way. How about that? It seemed a fair bargain so she turned her attention to the practical business of how it could be done. I’ll ‘op school termorrer, she thought, an’ go an’ ’ave a look-see. I’ll pop round Ruby’s first thing an’ see if she’ll give me a lend of ’er Ma’s old carpet bag, an’ I’ll take a few coppers jest in case. I’ll bet I can do it. Be nice to ’ave really new clothes fer once in a while.
Ruby’s Ma said she could have the carpet bag providing she didn’t get caught with it, and providing she brought it back before three o’clock. And Ruby said she’d tell Miss Silverman she’d been sick or something, and would she be back in time for work? And then it was seven o’clock and time for her shopping expedition to begin, so they came to the door to see her off and wish her luck.
‘Poor little blighter,’ Mrs Miller said, watching her as she ran off towards Brick Lane. ‘I ’ope she gets ’er job, Ruby. Be the making of ’er if she could leave ’ome. She deserves a bit a’ luck wiv an ol’ man like that Paddy Murphy. If she gets ’er new clothes you tell ’er ter come round ’ere termorrer an’ ’ave a good wash afore she gets dressed. Tell ’er she can use the tub if she’s early. Afore six mind, or yer Dad’ll ’ave sormmink ter say.’
‘Ta, Ma,’ Ruby said. ‘I’ll tell ’er.’
Shoreditch High Street was a classy place, presided over by the bow bell chimes of St Leonard’s Church at the northern end and just up the road from Liverpool Street Station to the south. It was full of fine shops and well-to-do shoppers, there was a cut-glass pub on every corner, and the London Music Hall did a roaring trade next door to Rotherham’s. Even the stalls were classy here, Ellie thought as she walked towards Hopkins and Peggs, clutching her carpet bag. The fruit was a sight for sore eyes and the jellied eels fair made her mouth water. But there wasn’t time for food this morning. There was too much to be done.
By dint of standing outside the shop and peering through the windows it didn’t take her long to establish that the women who worked at Hopkins and Peggs all wore black skirts and blouses, and dressed their hair in the most sober style, with the merest suggestion of a fringe across their foreheads and the neatest of buns at the nape of their necks. I shall need ‘airpins, an’ a brush an’ comb, she thought, making a mental list. Black skirt, black stockings, garters, black boots. I’ll ’ave a white blouse fer termorrer though, all that black looks like a funeral. An’ a straw boater ter top it all off. That Morrie Isherman bloke sells boaters. Gaw dearie me, I shall ’ave me work cut out ter get all that lot.
She looked wistfully through the plate glass at all the tempting goods on display. Clothes for other women in another world. She knew they were beyond her, but she couldn’t help lusting after them just the same. One window was curtained with elegant skirts, in serge and grosgrain and cravenette with neat little bolero jackets to match, waterfall skirts and mermaid skirts and gored skirts, with box pleats and pin tucks and elaborate braiding; another was tiered with fine blouses, milk white and cream and very pale lavender, in chiffon and ninon, lawn and muslin and embroidered linen, with high, boned neckbands and pouter pigeon bosoms frothing with lace. Right in the middle was an elegant creation in cream muslin with long Renaissance sleeves, puffed at the wrists, and dear little lingerie buttons all the way down the front between the lace panels and the fine tucks. Ellie found she was licking her lips at the sight of it How the other ’alf live, she thought. Lucky devils! Fancy bein’ able ter dress like that.
Then the bow bells struck half past eight and a gentleman in a dress suit opened the doors for custom so she thought she’d better make herself scarce, Moochin’ about ’ere’ll never do, she scolded herself. Better cross over the road and get cracking, straight away. There was no hope of nicking anything from the shops, but the stalls were far more likely.
It took her all morning to collect her outfit, for the men who sold new clothes were a great deal more careful of them than the secondhand sellers, and they watched their merchandise like hawks. She had to wait more than half an hour for the chance to lift a blouse, and by then she was so impatient and so cross she took two as a sort of revenge. Stockings were easy because someone had pushed three pairs right off the stall onto the pavement and all she had to do was pick them up, but boots were impossible. The crafty devils hung ’em outside the shops, right enough, but never in pairs, and what was the use a’ one boot? In the end she had to settle for a secondhand pair after all, which was a bit of a disappointment. But by midday Mrs Miller’s carpet bag was full to the brim, and Ellie was feeling well pleased with herself. She’d even pinched a pair of scarlet garters and two cakes of scented soap. Now she was loitering near Morrie Isherman’s hat stall in the Lane, fingering the boaters.
‘Tanner!’ Morrie said, creeping up behind her so suddenly it made her jump.
She recovered quickly and gave him a bright smile. ‘Aintcher got nothink fer frupence?’
‘Do me a favour,’ he said. ‘That’s ’ats we’re talkin’ about.’
‘Tell yer what,’ she tried. ‘I’ll give yer tuppence an’ a cake a’ scented soap. How about that?’
‘Nicked it, aintcher?’ he said amiably. ‘Holy terror, you are, Ellie Murphy.’ Then as she went on looking at him imploringly, ‘Oh, all right then. Go on. You can ’ave it. Where’s yer tuppence?’
She fished the coins and the soap from the pocket of her old green coat and handed them across.
‘Good gel,’ he approved. ‘’Ang on a tick. You can sling that in an’ all.’ And he opened a battered hatbox and fished out an enormous hat
It was a Floradora, weighed down with plump red roses that curled and curved above a brim even wider than her shoulders. The flowers were dusty and the rim bent but it was the most luxurious hat she’d ever seen. She couldn’t believe her luck.
‘Cor!’ she said. ‘You’re a pal, Mr Isherman! Ta.’
‘’S a pleasure,’ he said grinning at her and admiring her pretty blue eyes. ‘Now you cut off ’ome like a good gel an’ don’t you go nickin’ nothink else.’
‘I won’t,’ she promised happily, and her expression was as honest as her vow. She’d nicked all she needed now.
She wore the Floradora all the way back to Mrs Miller’s, feeling pleased with her prowess and happily aware that she was causing a stir. Well, I earned it, she thought. I done a good job a’ work this morning.
Mrs Miller was impressed too, and told her she could leave her ‘shopping’ in Ruby’s bedroom till she needed it, which was a great relief because she didn’t want to take it home for fear of the bugs and all those grubby kids. Then she thought she might as well go to school for the afternoon, seeing it was the last time she’d ever have to.
Nobody said goodbye to her at the end of the day
, but that didn’t surprise or upset her, because they’d never said goodbye to anybody as far as she could remember. Miss Silverman gave her a certificate that said she’d achieved an adequate standard in English and that her arithmetic had earned a credit, and then she was out in the sunshine and free to start earning her own living. She was so happy she danced all the way home.
She slept very little that night, what with the bugs and the babies, but that didn’t worry her either, because she knew it was for the very last time, and anyway she had to be up early to get to Ruby’s in time for her wash. At five o’clock her mother creaked out of the double bed and began to stir the ashes in the stove, and at that Ellie extricated herself from the babies and got up and dressed.
‘You off out?’ her mother asked.
‘Urn.’
‘Get us a pinch a’ tea, will yer.’
‘I’m off after a job, Ma. Shan’t be back fer a while.’
‘Oh,’ her mother said. ‘I shall ’ave ter send Tessie then. Give ’er a shake, will yer.’
‘Is there anythink to eat?’
‘Not till someone goes an’ gets it.’
‘I shall ’ave to ’ave air pie then, shan’t I,’ she said, shrugging her hunger away and wondering whether she’d have time to nick something. ‘I’m off then. Tat-ah.’
‘Mind ‘ow you go,’ her mother said automatically. But she didn’t look up, and Ellie had a sinking feeling that she didn’t mean it.
Mrs Miller was far more welcoming. ‘There you are, lovey,’ she said. ‘You’re in nice time. Go an’ get yer things,’ The tin bath was already in position on the rag rug and there were two kettles and a large saucepan heating on the stove and a towel warming on the clothes horse.
Nobody won’t come in, will they?’ Ellie asked nervously. She’d never had a bath in a tub before and the thought of standing naked to wash herself, even in a kitchen as warm and welcoming as this one, was suddenly very daunting.
‘No fear a’ that, duck,’ Mrs Miller reassured. ‘Back door’s locked an’ I’ll draw the blinds for yer. You’ll be quite private, don’t you worry. Men ain’t due back till past six. You look sharp, we’ll be over an’ done long afore that.’
Even so, as she sped upstairs to collect her new clothes Ellie’s heart was thumping with a most uncomfortable embarrassment. She’d got to have that bath, cleanliness being next to Godliness an’ everything, but she wished having a bath didn’t mean showing herself up. Her old clothes were little more than smelly rags and now they’d be left on the floor for Mrs Miller to see. It made her feel ashamed just to think of it And besides that, they’d see her wiv nothing on, and she’d got titties coming. ‘You got ter do it, gel,’ she told herself sternly as she picked up her bundle. ‘You wanna get on, you got ter do it.’ But embarrassment was making her eyes bolt.
She needn’t have worried, for Mrs Miller was a tactful woman and sensitive to the fears of a thirteen-year-old. When Ellie got back to the kitchen, the bath was ready and steaming and the clothes horse had been arranged around the tub like a towelled screen. She crept behind it gratefully and removed her tatty clothes.
‘If I was you, gel,’ Mrs Miller’s voice said calmly from behind the towel, ‘I’d get shot a’ that lot, now you got all new. I’ll burn ‘em for yer if yer like.’
‘Oh yes,’ Ellie said, lowering herself rather gingerly into the warm water. ‘I would like, please Mrs Miller.’
So the old clothes were wrapped in brown paper and put on one side to be burnt and the old dirt was scrubbed away, and ten minutes later the new Ellie emerged from the steam, pink and pretty and wrapped in a white towel ready to face the world.
And realized that she hadn’t got any underwear.
‘Oh Ellie!’ Mrs Miller said, laughing out loud. ‘If that don’t beat all! Ne’er mind, duck, our Ruby’s got an old chemise we was keepin’ fer Amy. Nip up an’ get it, Rube, an’ a pair a’ drawers an’ all. We can’t ’ave ’er goin’ fer a job wiv no drawers.’
‘You’re ever so good ter me,’ Ellie said gratefully. ‘I’ll bring ’em back, I promise.’
‘You ’ave a good rub down, and get yourself dressed quick as yer can,’ Mrs Miller advised tactfully. ‘I’m off ter make the beds. I’ll bring yer down a lookin’ glass if yer like.’
The new clothes were lovely, soft and clean and smelling so fresh. The boots weren’t a very good fit, but what a’ that. Everything else was just right. She pulled the belt as tight as she could and looked down happily at the smooth cloth of her new black skirt, her two neat black ankles, and her hands emerging from her neat white cuffs, so clean and pink she hardly recognized them.
‘You look a treat,’ Ruby said. ‘Whatcher gonna do wiv yer barnet?’
‘Give us a lend a’ your scissors, I’ll show yer.’
Ten minutes later, the transformation was complete. Her long curly hair had been brushed and combed and pinned into a bun on the nape of her neck and she’d cut herself a curly fringe. ‘Well, you do look a swell,’ Mrs Miller said. ‘If you don’t get took on this morning, I’ll go ter Jericho.’
But the nicest moment came two minutes later when Mr Miller came home for his breakfast and didn’t know who she was.
‘’Oo’s the young lady, mother?’ he asked, and Ellie was gratified to notice that he looked quite uncomfortable at the sight of her, as though she was someone special. A young lady, eh? she thought, and she took another glance at her new clean face in the looking glass on the dresser.
‘Well, blow me down!’ Mr Miller said when he’d been enlightened. ‘I’d never ’a know’d. Never in a month a’ Sundays. Where’s me breakfast then, woman?’
‘I’d better be off then,’ the young lady said, because Mrs Miller was putting a loaf of bread on the table and the sight of it was making her mouth water.
‘Good luck!’ they all said as she pinned on her boater. And Mrs Miller gave her a kiss and a neat brown paper parcel. ‘I’ve wrapped up all yer new things for yer.’ And Ruby came to the door and launched her into the early morning sunshine. ‘Remember the innercent bird?’ she giggled. ‘I’ll bet yer get took on now.’
‘Fingers crossed,’ Ellie said, because it didn’t do to tempt Providence. Then she set off on her adventure.
Shoreditch High Street was still empty when she arrived and the shops hadn’t opened yet, although the assistants were all in position behind the counters and the windows were washed sparkling clean, like a line of dazzling mirrors all along the street. A line of reassuring mirrors, reflecting her new, clean, pretty, grown-up image everywhere she looked. By the time she reached Hopkins and Peggs, she’d almost grown accustomed to it.
The porter at the staff entrance didn’t even look at her. ‘You an’ all the others,’ he said when she’d explained why she’d come. ‘Straight up the stairs. Second door on the left.’
It was a small brown waiting room, with an empty table in the centre and a collection of odd cane chairs set rigidly against the walls. Half a dozen of them were already self-consciously occupied by an even odder collection of girls, all of whom made a point of not looking at her when she came in, although they looked up at once when she went to sit down, and barked at her almost with one voice, ‘Not there!’ indicating with their eyes that she was to sit on the seat at the end of the line. It wasn’t very encouraging.
Then there was nothing to do but wait. Three more girls arrived and were barked into the right seat and presently an apologetic woman with wispy grey hair put her head in at the door and whispered ‘Next’. The girl nearest the door got up and tiptoed out. Time passed. More new girls arrived and four more originals were whispered away, never to return. The silence was oppressive.
I shall ’ave ter say sommink soon, Ellie thought, or we’ll all go barmy. They don’t come back, do they,’ she tried, looking at the girl beside her. ‘I reckon someone’s ate ’em.’
They all looked up at once, shocked and anxious, and one or two said ‘Shush!’ very fiercely. So that w
as a waste a’ time. They’d better give me this job, she thought, after all this.
But at last, after more than half an hour, the grey-haired woman called her and trotted her down the narrow corridor into a carpeted office where a very grand lady sat behind a desk, a fierce pince-nez dangling on a chain round her neck and a pile of papers on the blotter before her.
‘Name,’ she said as Ellie came to a halt before her.
Until that moment it hadn’t entered Ellie’s head to change her name, but now, as the woman looked up at her with calculating eyes, she took a deep breath and a new identity.
‘Ellen White, ma’am.’
‘Address?’
She gave Mrs Miller’s address so effortlessly she could have believed it herself.
‘References?’
What does she mean by references? Ellie thought. Was it that certificate they gave her at school? She took the little paper from her skirt pocket and handed it across hopefully, but when the lady read it she gave her a very odd look.
‘It says here that your surname is Murphy and that you live in Heneage Street,’ she said.
Ellie opened her blue eyes as widely as she could and prepared to lie her way out of trouble. ‘That was me mother’s name,’ she said. ‘I used me mother’s name at school yer see, ma’am.’
‘Ah!’ the lady said and she wrote something on the certificate and pinned it to the top of the pile. Illegitimate of course, she thought. We would have to watch this one if we took her on. Then she fixed her pince-nez firmly on her nose and stared at the girl.
‘Tell me why you want to work in Hopkins and Peggs.’
That was a lot easier. ‘Because it’s the best store in the district, ma’am.’
The answer pleased. ‘And if we take you on, I’m not saying we will mind, but if, what would you have to offer us?’
The new Miss White was taken aback for the second time, but while she was gulping towards an answer the door opened and a tall man strode into the room, coat tails flapping behind him. ‘Sorry to disturb, Miss Elphinstone,’ he said. ‘Must have those accounts, d’you see.’ And then he noticed Ellie, and his eyes flickered and lit up, and held their glance for quite a lot longer than was necessary. He put his hand on the desk and stopped rushing and stood still.
A Time to Love Page 15
