A Time to Love

by Beryl Kingston

  He likes the look of me, she thought, and hard on the heels of that realization came another, even more pleasant. He thinks I’m pretty.

  ‘Well,’ he said, still looking at her. ‘Who have we here, eh? New recruit, Miss Elphinstone?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Hopkins.’

  Mr ’Opkins? He couldn’t be the Mr ’Opkins, surely? He didn’t look old enough.

  ‘Let’s try some adding up, shall we?’ he said, still gazing. ‘Two yards at two and eleven three, three at one and eleven three, and a yard at – oh, say four and six.’

  You don’t catch me wiv that sort a’ stuff, Ellie thought delightedly. That’s jest mental arithmetic. And she did the sums quickly. Six an’ six an’ four’s sixteen. Sixteen an’ six take away five farthings, ‘Sixteen an’ fourpence three farthings.’

  He beamed his approval. ‘Just the sort of girl we want, eh Miss Elphinstone?’

  The pince-nez glittered. ‘If you say so, Mr Hopkins. Here are the accounts you wanted.’ He clutched the folder to his linen bosom and rushed out of the room again.

  I’ve got the job, Ellie thought, with excitement rising into her throat like a fountain. But she stood still and waited, looking down at the carpet so that Miss Elphinstone couldn’t see how triumphant she was feeling.

  ‘We pay two and sixpence a week to start with,’ that lady said, ‘laundry deductable, board and lodgings found. When can you start?’

  ‘Now, if yer like, ma’am.’

  And now it was. Miss Elphinstone rang the bell and the grey-haired lady put her head obediently round the door and instructions were given.

  ‘Dress lengths with Miss Morton.’

  Ellie was so excited she grinned all the way down the corridor. I’ve done it! I’ve done it! she thought. I’ve left ’ome. I’ve got a job. I’m on me way! From now on Smelly Ellie was gone and forgotten. Ellen White had arrived.

  It was a long first day and a very hard-working one, especially on an empty stomach. First she was taken upstairs to the attic and introduced to another Miss Elphinstone, who looked even more formidable than the first one and read her such a lengthy list of rules and regulations it made her head spin. ‘We rise at six sharp when you will be expected to sweep the shop and clear etcetera, in your own clothes, of course. Breakfast is at seven thirty, after which you will wash and dress properly, dinner at one, supper at eight, except for Saturdays, when it is usually nine, depending on our closing time. Laundry is sent out at seven o’clock on Thursday mornings and returned on Monday at the same time. Wednesday half day, when you are not allowed on the premises, and Sunday of course. We serve breakfast and supper on Sundays but apart from that we don’t expect to see you at all. Those who are late for meals go without. You will always use the north stair to get to the dormitories. The south stair is out of bounds for female staff. I trust that is clearly understood. We have our reputation to consider. Doors are locked spot on ten o’clock at night and the gas in this dormitory is put out at half past This is your bed. You may leave your parcel in the cupboard.’

  Then she was provided with the regulation black blouse and three sets of white cuffs and collars. Suitably attired, she was sent down to the shop and her duties. It was like stepping into another world. The dormitory had been a spartan place, smelling of damp and carbolic soap, with its bare walls distempered yellow and floorboards underfoot, the bedsteads iron and the cupboards cheap white deal. The shop was luxurious. Here the walls were covered in thick flock paper and the floors in polished linoleum, the high counters were made of fine carved oak, and above their head a complicated network of miniature rails and points buzzed the all-important cash from customer to cashier in a series of drum-shaped containers. It was an exotic place, smelling of new cloth and the expensive scents of its expensive customers. The old Smelly Ellie might well have found it daunting, but the new Ellen White took it all calmly, as though she was accustomed to it.

  Miss Morton turned out to be a wisp of a woman who did everything at speed, flicking material from the roll so rapidly that the counter was draped with it in seconds and ripping off the required lengths with a whip-crack alacrity that was most impressive. Ellie spent the morning tying up parcels, holding up lengths of cloth for the customers’ inspection and tidying up after the sale, which meant re-rolling all the materials that had been displayed and carrying the heavy rolls back into their original positions again. She was mightily relieved when one o’clock came and they all trooped off to the basement for their dinner.

  As she suspected that there would probably be a hierarchy in the dining order in this place, just as there was in everything else, she stood beside the door and watched, hoping that somebody would enlighten her, or that she’d be able to work out what it was. Presently she was joined by a girl she recognized from the waiting room that morning, a pale skinny girl with a fuzz of straw-coloured hair and pale grey eyes. ‘They took you on an’ all,’ she said to the girl, grinning a sort of welcome.

  ‘Never thought they would,’ the girl said. ‘They’re ever so sticky. Where are we supposed ter sit?’

  By now Ellie had noticed that the important people had already settled themselves at the tables in the middle of the room and that the oilcloth on the tables nearest the wall was chipped and stained. ‘Likes of us by the wall, I reckon,’ she said, so by the wall they went, and waited hungrily while steaming plates of meat and potatoes were served to the centre tables.

  ‘You’re sharp, intcher?’ the new girl said admiringly. ‘Where d’yer come from?’

  ‘Whitechapel.’

  ‘That accounts,’ her new friend said sagely. ‘You gotta be sharp you live round there.’

  True enough, Ellie thought. And was glad of it

  They introduced themselves, and the new girl, who said her name was Maud, tried to catch a glimpse of the meat as a tray full of plates was carried past them. ‘Hope it ain’t mutton,’ she said. ‘I got a sensitive stomach.’

  Ellie didn’t mind what it was. ‘I’m so ‘ungry I could eat a horse,’ she said.

  ‘You probably will,’ her new friend said.

  Ellie laughed, but secretly she was counting her good fortune again. Meat and potatoes served up to you piping hot in the middle of the day. This is the life, she thought.

  She was still of the same opinion at half past seven that evening when the store had finally closed and she was covering the goods with dust sheets. Her arms ached and her feet were sore, but what of that? Presently she’d be going down for another meal, and tonight she would sleep well in a clean bed all on her own. And on top of all that there was the marvellous moment when she would tell her family what she’d done.

  After supper she bought a stamp and a postcard and wrote a thank you note to Mrs Miller. ‘I got the job. 2/6 a week and my keep. Not so dusty. Thank you ever so much for all you done, especherly the bath. I will come and visit on my day off Wednesday and return the things, Love from Ellie. x x x.’

  Then she went to Heneage Street.

  Her mother was hard at work pulling fur so the room was full of drifting fibres and the smell of rotting flesh. There was no sign of her father and the kids were all over the place as usual. She noticed that Tessie had already taken her place as substitute mother and was carrying the baby about on her hip, poor kid. After a day spent among the refinements of Hopkins and Peggs, they all looked dreadfully dirty to her but they were pleased to see her and thought she looked ‘a real swell’.

  ‘Where’s Pa?’ she asked. Trust ’im ter be out.

  ‘Up the pub,’ Paddy told her. ‘Where d’yer think?’

  ‘D’yer manage ter get anythink to eat?’ her mother asked, looking up briefly from a rabbit skin.

  ‘I live in, Ma. Meals an’ bed an’ all. I just come down ter say goodbye.’

  Nell sighed heavily. ‘You’re a good gel, Ellie,’ she said, ‘an’ I’m glad yer got out of all this, but I shall miss yer, lovey, an’ that’s a fact.’

  ‘You takin’ your green coat?’ Tes
sie asked hopefully.

  ‘No. I got all the clothes I need. You can ’ave it if yer like.’

  ‘Be my turn ter leave school next,’ Paddy said, stung to a momentary jealousy by all the attention she was being given. ‘Jest you wait then!’

  ‘I shall ’ave ter be off in a minute,’ Ellie said. ‘They shut the doors at ten o’clock. Don’t wanna be locked out me first night.’

  But just as she put her hand on the doorknob, Paddy Murphy came rolling home from the pub. He was dramatically amazed at her appearance and his amazement gave Nell the chance to scramble the skins out of sight before he could complain. ‘Well, will ye look at that!’ he said. ‘Here’s me daughter all dressed up like a lady, so she is. Wonders’ll never cease.’

  ‘She’s got ’erself a job,’ Nell told him, throwing the sack under the bed.

  ‘An’ not before time, child. We could do with the money, an’ that’s a fact. When d’ye get paid?’

  Gaw, ’e’s ugly! Ellie thought. Crafty old thing, and she began to smile, thinking of the shock he’d get when she told him. ‘It’s my money, Pa,’ she said. ‘I ain’t livin’ ’ere no more. I’m livin’ in. My wages. My keep. You ain’t gettin’ a brass farthin’ out a’ me.’

  He was furious. ‘You mind yer mouth, gel,’ he roared. ‘Remember who ye’re talkin’ to.’

  But she laughed at him. ‘Yell all yer like. Don’t make no odds ter me. I don’t live ’ere no more.’

  ‘It’s come to somethin’ when your own daughter won’t help you,’ he said, whining and assuming his ‘hurt’ expression. But she ignored him, feeling her power, despising him. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her craftily for a few seconds. Then he changed his tone and his line of attack. ‘Very well, daughter,’ he said. ‘I’m not a man to bear a grudge. I’m a loving man, so I am. So I’ll give you a word of advice. You wanna watch those fingers.’

  ‘What’s ’a matter wiv ’em,’ she said hotly.

  ‘They’re light so they are,’ he said and now his grin was malevolent. ‘An’ light fingers end up in quod. Ye’ve been warned! Now I can’t say fairer than that, can I?’

  ‘Fair!’ his daughter snorted contemptuously. ‘You don’t know the meaning a’ the word. You never been fair in all yer natural.’

  ‘You just mind your mouth, missie,’ her father growled again. ‘You’re not so big that I can’t take me belt to ye.’

  ‘You ain’t never takin’ that belt ter me no more,’ Ellie said looking him straight in the eye, her expression icy. ‘You done that fer the last time. You ever lift a finger ter me ever again, and I’ll kick you from ’ere to the middle a’ next week. So you can put that in yer pipe an’ smoke it!’

  She was aware that the kids were huddling together in the furthest corner of the room, their eyes wide with amazement at her daring, and that her mother was sitting back on her heels enjoying it, and that her father’s face was turning puce with extreme rage.

  ‘Nell! Nell!’ he cried. ‘Will ye hark at the girl! Have I to be spoken to in this way by me own daughter? Sure she’ll make me ill so she will. Me that’s given her the most priceless commodity known to man.’

  ‘What cermodity?’

  ‘Why life, daughter. Life!’

  ‘What a load of old guff an’ gubbins. You never gave nothink ter no one.’

  ‘Oh, oh,’ her father wailed, holding out his hands to her mother and trying to look appealing. ‘Will ye stop her, Nell. She’s makin’ me ill!’

  ‘See if I care,’ Ellie said.

  And on that note she left them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Regular meals and uninterrupted sleep soon began to have a marked effect on the new Miss Ellen White. By September when her brothers and sister were starting another miserable school year she had grown more than an inch taller and was half a stone heavier. The extra flesh suited her, rounding her limbs and plumping her cheeks and giving her a new air of womanly assurance. Her eyes were bright, her hair well brushed and gleamingly clean and for the first time in her life her conscience was clear. She hadn’t realized what a relief it would be not to have to steal or tell lies any more. ‘This is the life!’ she told herself as she lead her friends down to the canteen for supper. To be housed and fed and paid and approved of was little short of luxury. And she knew she was approved of. Miss Morton actually told her so and even Miss Elphinstone was pleased with her, as she could tell from the little nod the lady invariably gave her when they passed.

  Unfortunately, the young men in Mr Hopkins’ employ did rather more than approve. And that was a nuisance.

  ‘Hello, beautiful!’ they would say, making eyes at her as they scurried into the shop first thing in the morning. She would try to keep them at their distance with an icy politeness, ‘Good morning, Mr Tiffin. Good morning, Mr Jones.’ But that only made them laugh. It wasn’t long before they’d nicknamed her Miss Ice White, and although none of them understood that her hauteur was caused by fear, it made a good topic of conversation and speculation. Soon they were laying bets on which of them would be the first to steal a kiss from this challenging young person.

  ‘Bet I could!’ Jimmy Thatcher bragged. He was a thickset sandy-haired boy who worked in the basement packing, and fancied himself as a ladies’ man.

  ‘Never on yer life!’ they mocked. ‘She wouldn’t look at you. Not wiv your ugly mug!’

  ‘You watch!’ he promised. And from then on he laid siege, sitting at the table next to hers, walking through the shop as close to her as he could get, and lurking on the landing in the hope of catching her as she came downstairs. And at last one cold morning his determined patience was rewarded. She was late down to the shop, and they were alone on the stairs together.

  Never a man to waste time on preliminaries, he seized her round the waist at once, grabbing at her belt with his big blunt fingers. ‘Give us a kiss!’ he said shoving his face into hers. ‘Quick! No one’s looking!’

  She drew herself up to her new full height and tried to pull his hands away from her belt. ‘Take your dirty maulers off me this instant!’ she said furiously.

  ‘Give us a kiss then!’

  She was so angry and so frightened she acted without thought, almost instinctively. She stamped on the toe of his boot, and as he shifted his balance wincing she swung a fierce kick at his shins.

  It hurt him so much he forgot all about being amorous, and while he was rubbing his shin and swearing at the top of his voice, she ran off down the rest of the stairs as fast as her shaking legs would carry her.

  Down in the shop her friends were alerted by his roars, and rushed to comfort her. They were delighted to hear how brutally she’d dealt with him. ‘Serve him right,’ Maud said. ‘He’s ‘ad that coming to ’im fer ages.’ He’d tried to pin her in a corner once too. By the end of the afternoon Thatcher was a laughing stock and Ellen was a heroine, and from that moment on her little group of friends looked to her, young as she was, as their leader.

  Early one November afternoon, when a battalion of the Royal Fusiliers came marching down the High Street, she was the one who went to ask Miss Elphinstone to give them permission to watch the procession from the upper windows.

  The British Army was embarking for another war in some out of the way part of the Empire, and the Fusiliers were on their way to Fenchurch Street Station and the troup train to Tilbury. They were preceded by a drum and fife band, drums in thunderous unison, fifes squealing like pigs, and they wore full dress uniform and determined expressions because they knew they were being admired. They were led by a resplendent sergeant with a face as red as his coat and a chest like a pouter pigeon, and they drew a long dark straggling crowd behind them, like a magnet trailing iron filings. There were clerks with self-important expressions, grimy boys in grubby rags, elderly gentlemen stepping out boldly in time to the music, and down beside their well-polished boots a flea-bitten collection of Shoreditch mongrels, yapping themselves silly with uncontrollable patriotism. It was very exciting. />
  Ellen and Maud, cheering them on from the upper windows of Hopkins and Peggs, with most of the other girls from the shop, enjoyed it all very much and thought the Fusiliers looked very handsome in their fine red coats.

  ‘Fine lookin’ body a’ men,’ Maud approved as the column passed beneath them. ‘Funny ter think a’ them fighting a war though.’

  ‘Tha’s what they’re for, innit?’ Ellen said reasonably. ‘They wouldn’t a’ joined the colours else.’

  ‘D’you think any of ’em’ll get theirselves killed?’

  ‘Don’t ask me. Anyway we shan’t know nothink about it if they do. ’S down South Africa way. Nothink ter do wiv us.’

  ‘I think they look just lovely in them red coats.’

  ‘Shop!’ Miss Elphinstone warned them, swishing into the dormitory. ‘Three minutes, Miss White. Three minutes to be downstairs and ready!’

  ‘Be there in two an’ a half, ma’am,’ Ellen assured her, and stood back from the window at once.

  Miss Elphinstone gave her usual half-hidden smile of approval as she moved on to chivy the second dormitory. No matter how silly and excitable the other girls might get, you could always depend on Miss White. She’d turned out to be quite an addition to the staff, invariably bright and cheerful and very well groomed. She kept her cupboard in immaculate order and her clothes were always spotless. And a natural leader, too. They could do with more girls like her. Surprising really that such a pretty girl should be so sensible. Usually the pretty ones were silly and flighty. But this one was different. There was no nonsense with any of their young men. She was never rude to any of them and they all seemed to like her, but she kept them all at arm’s length, most commendably. Yes, they’d struck very lucky with Miss White.

  Back in the first dormitory Ellen was leading her own troops back to work, with a saucy imitation of Mr Fenway the floor walker. ‘Come along, ladies! Look lively!’