Another Man's Child

by Anne Bennett

  ‘You’ll leave her rudderless if you don’t,’ Annabel said. ‘She won’t know what to do if you don’t tell her.’

  ‘You could do it.’

  ‘Don’t you think that might look dashed odd if I gave her orders when you are supposed to be Henry’s sister?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘If I were you I’d get used to issuing orders to Janey,’ Annabel said. ‘Because you’ll have to deal with Cook soon and that will be harder because she will be older than you and if she’s anything like the cooks at the hall that I had experience of, she’s used to reigning supreme in her kitchen and you will have to discuss menus and plan meals with her. You should be grateful that we are such a small household.’

  ‘Oh this being a toff is not all it’s cracked up to be,’ Celia groaned and Annabel laughed at the disgruntled look on her face.

  While Celia was getting to grips with coping with Janey Jackson, Andy was almost penniless, and now he was no longer able to pay the rent on his dodgy, down-at-heel lodging house, there were just the streets left. Never had Andy thought for one moment he would end up living on the streets, but he had been unable to secure himself any sort of job. That was out of his understanding for, even when he had left his home, he had been engaged at the first hiring fair he’d gone to. But now there was no help for it and he left the lodging house with regret, keeping back a couple of shillings for, even if he had nowhere to live, he had to eat and what he would do when that money was gone if he still hadn’t any employment didn’t bear thinking about.

  He mooned around the area that day carrying all that he possessed in the bag he had strapped to his back, too dispirited to look for work. When hunger gnawed at him, he bought four stale buns at the bakery in Erdington Village. Not knowing how long they had to last he allowed himself to eat only two of them. They barely satisfied his hunger and left his mouth as dry as a bone. He wandered aimlessly though his steps were bringing him back to Grange Road and he was wondering what a body did to slake their thirst when there was no accommodating stream tumbling by. He had always made up his mind to knock on someone’s door and ask for a drink of water when he came to a park. ‘Pype Hayes’ it said on the sign outside and he went in, knowing he would feel better anyway with a bit of grass beneath his feet. Following the path round, he came to a children’s playground that had a drinking fountain to the edge of it and he was able to satisfy his thirst at last.

  That first afternoon passed in a blur as he walked and walked for miles trying to acclimatise himself with the area. He saw there weren’t many factories around the place where he could find any sort of job that paid enough to rent a room or, failing that, enough to keep body and soul together would do for now.

  As he retraced his footsteps back to the park he was determined to look in some other area the following day. He remembered one of the lads on the boat telling him Birmingham was known as the ‘city of a thousand trades’. If that were true he had seen pretty little evidence of it so far. He ate more buns washed down with water from the drinking fountain and then lay down on a nearby bench, glad of the warm dry night. He knew though he would find life on the streets hard, though he was well aware he was by no means the only one forced to sleep where he could because he had seen down and outs sleeping in shop doorways, under railway arches and a variety of unsuitable places.

  But enough was enough he decided. He would seek out Henry the next day to take up his offer of employment that he initially refused because of his stiff-necked pride.

  The early morning cold woke him just as dawn was breaking and so he had a basic wash using water from the drinking fountain, combing his hair, smoothing down his crumpled clothes and generally making himself look as respectable as he could before he set off for the house. He didn’t want Celia to catch sight of him before he had secured employment, so he decided to see Henry on his own at first as he left the house on his way to work.

  He hadn’t been waiting that long when Henry emerged and strode down Grange Road, making for the tram stop on Chester Road, and Andy only waited for him to turn into Holly Lane, where there was no possibility that he would be seen from the house, before he called to him, ‘Lord Lewisham.’

  Henry stopped and looked back and waited for Andy to approach. He wasn’t sure who it was at first and, as if Andy knew this, he said, ‘I’m Andy, Celia’s brother.’

  ‘Yes I know,’ Henry said. His first thought was that Andy had got some sort of job and had come to take Celia away and if he did that everything Henry had planned to protect Annabel would fall apart. So he said in clipped tones, ‘What can I do for you?’

  Andy heard the tone and gritted his teeth yet continued, ‘I would like to take you up on your kind offer?’

  It was the last thing Henry expected him to say and for a moment he didn’t know what he was on about. ‘My offer? What offer was that?’

  ‘Of employment,’ Andy said. ‘You offered me employment too when Celia went to be your sister’s lady’s maid.’

  Henry remembered and remembered also it was a made-up position so that Celia would stay with his sister. And it was an offer the man had thrown back in his face by disappearing the way he did without a word to anyone and now he had an old man keeping the garden tidy. But Andy had done him a favour in a way, for Celia was a compliant girl and anxious to please and easily persuaded to change her name and miss Mass, but he doubted her brother would be so agreeable. In fact he might blow the whole thing clean out of the water and Henry couldn’t risk that.

  It might be that Celia would want nothing to do with him after he had run out on her without a word and, if she felt that way, it might make life really awkward for her if Henry offered him employment. And so he looked at Andy rather scornfully and said, ‘As I recall, you weren’t that keen on the employment offered at the time. In fact you had disappeared by the following day.’

  ‘Yes,’ Andy said and, because he badly needed the job, he added, ‘I’m sorry. There were reasons. I can explain.’

  ‘Explanations are not necessary,’ Henry said. ‘You may be sorrier still though, for the offer of employment is withdrawn.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘The position has been filled,’ Henry said. ‘I cannot wait about for people to change their mind.’

  Andy stood and stared at him as if he couldn’t believe his ears, for now he really didn’t know what to do and he was filled with fear for the future. His mouth was suddenly so dry he could barely speak so his voice was like a growl as he said, ‘So that’s it then?’

  ‘Yes that’s it, I’m afraid,’ Henry said and he inclined his head slightly as he said, ‘Good day to you.’

  Andy watched Henry walk away and had the urge to pick up a large stone and throw it after him and then go and get Celia out of that house. Luckily he did no such thing. As he shambled away he told himself he doubted he could have stuck working for the Lewishams for very long for he wasn’t used to being anyone’s lackey, but he was only fooling himself because he knew in his heart he would be anyone’s lackey if they paid him a wage and he had three good meals a day.

  He wandered around listlessly all day, sticking to Erdington Village where he helped clear up the market stalls and was given a sixpence and, rather than make it last, he bought a meat pie. He thought he hadn’t tasted anything so nice in an age. The crust was thick and crispy on the top and juicy underneath, the meat was succulent and he felt the warm gravy dribble down his throat.

  But away from the market, he was aware that cold rain was falling, darkening the sky prematurely, and he made his way to Station Road just on the edge of the village because in his wanderings he had spotted a bridge there that the railway ran along the top of.

  He found that a cluster of men, homeless like himself, all with their packs on their backs, had had the same idea and were squashed under the bridge and they eyed him a little suspiciously as he joined them. However, he smiled and greeted them and from the greatcoats he knew a fair few of them had been sold
iers away fighting in the war that had only ground to a halt two years before and they wore their greatcoats like badges of honour to show they had done their bit.

  ‘Not that it made any bloody difference,’ one man they called Len said bitterly as Andy commented on this and another growled out: ‘Aye, they said we would come back to a land fit for heroes and we came back to bugger all, no job and little prospect of getting one and not even a place to live.’

  ‘Did you expect any different, Bert?’ Len said. Don’t tell me you expected them to keep their promises.’

  ‘No not really,’ Bert said morosely

  ‘Yeah, and far too many lads never came back at all,’ one man said

  ‘Their bodies left to rot in some foreign field,’ another commented.

  ‘Yeah and lots who returned were damaged,’ Len added. ‘Missing limbs, their lungs buggered up with mustard gas, blinded or twitching with shell shock.’

  Another called Fred saw the shock register on Andy’s face in the light from the street lamp and said, ‘How come you weren’t involved in the war?’

  ‘I was in Ireland,’ Andy said. ‘There was no conscription there.’

  ‘Huh, then you should thank your lucky stars,’ Len said. ‘Only some silly sods didn’t wait to be called up, like me for instance. Couldn’t wait to have a go at the Hun. Thought it would be like one big adventure cos I was still a kid, see.’

  ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Sixteen when I enlisted. Told them I was eighteen. They didn’t check that hard.’

  Andy thought back to his father’s likely reaction if he’d done that. ‘What about your parents?’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Well didn’t they object?

  ‘Don’t know who my parents are, mate,’ Len replied. ‘I grew up in the workhouse and I was out of there at fourteen and in a job cleaning the streets. Joining the army seemed to offer a better life than that.’

  ‘More fool you,’ Fred said. ‘Nothing to stop you looking for another job that would have kept you safe for another two years at least. You’d not catch me joining up one minute before I had to. I didn’t want to fight in no war that was hell on earth anyway. I grew up in a workhouse too but I had a life before the war, had a job and a girl. We were to be married.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She buggered off with some man who had flat feet so he failed the medical for the army and they put him in charge of an armaments factory,’ Fred said and although he spoke almost lightly Andy heard the hurt of the betrayal in the tone of his voice, even as he went on. ‘He was here and I wasn’t and he had money to spend on her, cos he was far better paid than us poor soldiers. Anyroad, when I saw what I would be reduced to after the war I couldn’t really blame her. She was a little smasher and I thought the world of her and I was glad she’d found someone else. I mean, I’ve nothing to offer her.’

  Andy started for though he had left Celia for her own good he didn’t expect her to find someone else while he was trying to sort out some kind of future for the two of them.

  ‘What did you do before the war?’ he asked.

  ‘I was a toolmaker.’

  ‘Well what happened to your job?’ Andy said. ‘I heard they were holding them for you.’

  ‘Well you heard wrong,’ Fred snapped and then went on in a more reasonable tone, ‘See the women took up our jobs when we went to war and when I went to see the boss, expecting to be set on straight away, he said that the woman working my machine had been left a widow by the war and she had a couple of kids to rear too and needed the money. And that might be true and everything, but I happen to know my old boss is a tight-fisted bastard and a woman’s wage for the same job is probably the half of mine, however many kids she has, so no wonder he wanted to keep her on instead of me.’

  ‘That’s true enough,’ Bert agreed. ‘The women don’t want to give the jobs up – sometimes they can’t because they are supporting their families in some way because they’re widows, or their husbands have come back too disabled to work. The pension for a disabled soldier or a deceased one is not worth having, so the women hang on to the jobs they have been doing through the war years.’

  ‘And you can’t blame them either,’ Len said. ‘I’ve seen plenty of scrawny, raggy-arsed and barefoot kids hanging about the streets. Look as if they have never had a decent meal in the whole of their lives, some of them. If you have the means to make life better for them, feed them well and get them boots for the winter months, then you’re not going to be that keen on giving up a job that provides them things, are you?’

  There was a murmur of agreement and Bert said, ‘And it’s not only that. There’s things you want in war time that are not needed afterwards, like I was a gun maker and who wants that many guns in peacetime? They are laying people off, not taking on.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s like the factories making munitions,’ Tad put in. ‘All closed. Eventually, they might open them up to make other things, but for now they stand empty.’

  ‘I stupidly thought that there might be things set in place for us by the government, because it isn’t as if they were taken by surprise,’ Len said. ‘They knew all of us would be leaving the forces not that long after the Armistice was signed and that we’d need some sort of job and somewhere to live.’

  ‘And instead we were thrown on the scrap heap,’ agreed Fred. ‘We’d beaten the Hun and so served our purpose. Instead of being welcomed back as heroes like they said we’d be, we’re like an embarrassment to them.’

  ‘Yeah. Surplus to requirements now.’

  ‘So then how do you survive?’ Andy asked, though he more or less knew the answer. He realised that he had made a big mistake in moving to a country still in recovery from a devastating war that had claimed and damaged so many lives. He felt that these men deserved a job much more than he did and in fact they couldn’t help but resent him for seeking work himself when their own chances of any meaningful employment were almost nil. This was brought home to him further when Fred said to him, ‘Look, mate, don’t take this the wrong way but you might find you’re not that welcome here, cos there’s already too many of us chasing too few jobs.’

  Andy nodded. ‘I know now I should never have come here, but it’s too late to regret that now.’ Sticking to the story they had concocted, he went on, ‘I have a young sister to see to.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She has a job in service.’

  ‘Leave her there,’ Len advised. ‘They might work her into the ground for they like their pound of flesh do the nobs, but if they have a decent cook she’ll be fed right, cos they get more work out of them then. And you just go round knocking the doors of the factories and that and ask if they have any jobs they want doing. The thing is not to go where others are working already because they get right shirty.’

  Andy nodded. ‘I found that out already. I was walking past New Street Station when this fancy horse-drawn cab pulled up in front of me and the man that got out of it asked me if I wanted to earn some money. Course I said yes and he piled me up with cases and boxes and I followed him into the station and stacked them in the rack of the train carriage for him and he gave me sixpence. I was jumped on as I went to leave the station by two fellows who wrenched the sixpence from my hand and told me in no uncertain terms to sling my hook and threatened what they’d do to me if they saw me there again. I didn’t fancy tangling with them,’ Andy said. ‘They were tall fellows and very broad with it.’

  ‘You did right,’ one of the men said with a wry grin. ‘No one tangles with them unless they have a death wish. They are two brothers. Name of Foster and between them they have New Street Station sewn up. Can’t blame them totally because they have six children between them and they are also helping the widow and children of the brother who didn’t make it home.’

  ‘I see that but what shall I do?’ Andy asked. ‘The last thing I want to do is tread on someone else’s toes.’

  ‘Well ignore the big
factories for a start, for they wouldn’t give you the time of day,’ Len cautioned. ‘Unless they have any vacancies on the board outside, we all give them a wide berth. I’d try Aston if I were you.’

  Andy remembered passing through a place Lady Annabel called Aston the day they arrived. He recalled a big green clock at the edge of the road and lots of shops and a big brewery.

  ‘Daresay the pickings are meagre,’ Len added, ‘because I heard the bloke who was working the factories down there dropped dead in the street from malnutrition, so you make sure it don’t happen to you.’

  ‘Dunno,’ Bert said malevolently. ‘Might be the best solution all round. Another Paddy wiped off the face of the earth and so more for the rest of us.’

  Some of the men shifted uncomfortably and others looked interested, wondering if there was to be a fight. But Andy hadn’t the energy to fight anyone, particularly as he thought the situation was of his own making.

  ‘There’s a canal down Rocky Lane as well,’ Len put in, ‘and if you can’t get work in the factories, you can sometimes pick up work on the canals.’

  ‘How far away is this place Aston?’

  ‘Oh a fair step from here,’ Len said. ‘And it’s coming on to dark so I’d turn in now and go up tomorrow morning.’

  Andy took the advice for a lot of the men were settling down now and how Andy envied them, wrapped up as they were in their greatcoats. He found it uncomfortable to be lying on the uneven bricks and, though he closed his eyes and was tired enough, he was too cold and full of anxiety to slip easily into a deep sleep for he felt an abject and total failure.

  He shivered through the night, the cold jerking him awake constantly and he was glad when it was time to get up. When he was pointed in the right direction for Aston he set off at a lick, glad to get the blood flowing through his veins, again warming him through.

  Aston was not that far from the city centre and though there were plenty of shops it mainly consisted of streets and streets of small and dingy back-to-back houses all squashed up together. Cheek by jowl with those houses were small and sometimes not so small factories and warehouses that Andy looked upon with some confidence for there were lots of doors to knock on. Surely one of them could find something he could do.