‘If yer want another go get it yerself,’ ordered Thomasin, sitting down to some darning.
‘Y’ought to’ve been in t’army, Tommy, yer’d’ve made a good sergeant major.’ Too lazy to refuel his mug John placed it on the hearth.
‘What was the business ye wanted to talk about, John?’ asked Patrick, tugging off his socks to trim his toenails.
‘Oh, aye! I’ve been thinkin’, we’ve been doin’ quite well wi’ this business of ours, haven’t we?’
‘We have.’ Patrick glanced up from his delicate task and, seeing his wife’s annoyed face began to gather up the nail clippings from the rug. ‘I was just saying to Tommy here how much we’ve managed to save.’
‘Well, instead o’ savin’ it, why don’t we plough it back into t’business?’ John hunched forward intently. ‘Use it to buy more materials, take on some really worthwhile jobs. That’s how all t’big boys get started, yer know, keep ploughin’ their profits back into t’business.’
‘We’ve just begun to save a little an’ ye want me to give it back?’
‘Not give it back, it’d still be your money. Listen, I thought when we started out we said we’d begin with little jobs an’ when we got established we’d progress to summat a bit more ambitious. Well, I reckon we’ve established ourselves right enough now. People know we do a good job. I think it’s about time we branched out a bit.’
‘Don’t ye think it’s a bit soon?’ said the other.
‘We’ve got to start sometime,’ answered John. ‘Come on, Pat, what d’yer say?’
‘We-ell, I’m not sure,’ prevaricated the Irishman. ‘’T’won’t be like the cash in hand jobs we’re doing now. People’ll expect to receive a bill, they won’t be wanting to part with large amounts of money over the doorstep and that’ll mean keepin’ books. Who’s going to have that responsibility, as if I didn’t know?’
‘Nah! We don’t have to bother with no books,’ scoffed John. ‘Just scribble t’fee on a bit o’ paper an’ shove it through t’letterbox. I can’t be doin’ wi’ all that legal stuff’
‘John, if a business is going to succeed it’s got to be on a legal basis. I cannot get involved with anything less, I’ve a family to consider.’
‘Oh, you are goin’ to consider us then?’ remarked Thomasin, whose eyes had been travelling from one face to the other. ‘I was beginning to wonder.’
‘Of course I am!’ exclaimed Patrick. ‘I wouldn’t take such an important step without discussing it with you. ‘What d’ye think?’
‘I’ll tell yer what I think,’ answered his wife, resting her darning on her lap. ‘I think you’re bloody cracked. Listen, what business experience have either of you had? Eh? ’Cause yer can’t call what yer doin’ at the moment a real business.’
‘Ye like the money it brings in well enough though, don’t ye?’ said Patrick, in a clipped tone.
‘Of course I do, that’s why I want to keep it, not go spendin’ it on a pile of old bricks.’
‘Look, me an’ John are having a serious discussion about all our futures, if ye’ve nothing sensible to say keep your mouth shut.’
‘If you ask me I’m the only sensible one here,’ replied Thomasin. ‘To listen to the two o’ you it’s almost like bein’ in t’boardroom.’
‘Will ye stop pouring scorn on our plans?’ demanded her husband.
‘I’m not, honestly I’m not,’ pleaded Thomasin. ‘I’m just tryin’ to stop you running into summat before yer can walk. Yer’ve not been workin’ for yerselves for five minutes an’ here y’are talking like Tuke & Casson.’
‘There you’re at it again!’ snapped Patrick. ‘What’s the matter with ye, woman? Sure, ye didn’t imagine I was going to spend the rest o’ me life doing repair jobs, did ye?’
‘Of course not!’ Thomasin was beginning to get ruffled. ‘But I don’t want yer gettin’ yerself into anything yer not ready to handle. Oh!’ She turned on John exasperatedly. ‘What did you ’ave to go cramming his head with this rubbish for? You an’ your clever ideas. We were just beginning to get on our feet, nice bit o’ furniture, decent clothes …’
‘I don’t know what yer complainin’ about,’ John jumped in. ‘All I’ve done is put forward an idea that’ll get you that big, fine ’ouse.’
‘This big, fine ’ouse keeps rising to the surface,’ said Thomasin irritably. ‘On whose suggestion, may I ask? Have I ever mentioned one? Have I?’ She displayed her palms. ‘It’s me laddo here what keeps goin’ on about that, not me. If this is all we can afford I’d be quite content to stay here. I don’t want him puttin’ a millstone round his neck on my account. I told you, didn’t I?’ she demanded of her husband. ‘When we got married I said I had all I wanted, but do yer take any gorm? No! It’s like talkin’ to somebody wooden. When will yer stop this foolish thinkin’ that yer somehow need to prove yerself?’
‘When your mother stops tellin’ him he isn’t fit to kiss yer arse,’ said John before he was able to stop himself.
Thomasin stared at the two men for a brief span before giving a moan of understanding. ‘Aren’t I bloody dense,’ she said grimly. ‘Here’s me thinkin’ that all this was proposed for my benefit when all along it’s not me you’ve been tryin’ to please, it’s me blasted mother.’ She nodded emphatically in her enlightenment. ‘All this tripe about me deservin’ better an’ how you’re gonna take us outta here, huh! I must’ve been blind not to have seen it afore.’
‘It was for you, Tommy. Is for you.’ Patrick took hold of her hands and pleaded into her vexed face. ‘Everything I ever said, I meant. Ye do deserve better. Your mother is right in that.’
‘But nobody takes any notice of what Mother says!’ said Thomasin feelingly.
‘I do!’ he cried angrily. ‘Because deep down I know it’s true. When I came to this country I brought few things with me. I’d lost nearly everything I owned in the Hunger. But even in the worst times of my life, though I’d lost material things, I’d always held onto my pride. Your mother has tried her best to take that away from me, Tommy.’ She laid her fingertips comfortingly on his arm and he lifted his own hand to her cheek. ‘I see this as one last chance to redeem myself in her eyes, prove to her that everything she said about me was wrong.’
Thomasin moved her cheek against his palm. ‘You’re a daft ’aporth,’ she uttered softly. ‘By all means build your new life if that’s what yer want. But never for one moment think that you have to prove yourself. However bad things might be, however little money we have, you’ll always be a man, Patrick Feeney, an’ don’t let any silly, misguided woman tell you otherwise.’ She put her arms round him and placed her bead against his breast.
‘Do I get one o’ them?’ asked John hopefully, receiving only a laughing cuff from Thomasin.
Patrick smiled as his friend flopped back into the chair. ‘’Tis all settled then. We have Tommy’s seal of approval an’ can start whenever we want.’
‘Approval nothing,’ said Thomasin, serious again. ‘I still think you’re mad, the pair of yer after t’little experience yer’ve had, but I know yer’ll not listen to a word of advice from me.’ She pointed a finger at her husband. ‘I shall say it, yer know, if all this comes to nowt.’
‘Say what?’ enquired Patrick.
‘I told yer so.’
Chapter Thirty-two
The landlord of The Square and Compass handed over two frothing tankards and scraped their coins off the bar. The friends sought a table and sat down.
‘Ye know, John,’ said Patrick wiping his mouth and lowering his tankard to the table, ‘I’ve been giving some thought to what we were saying last night.’
John ran a finger over his froth-coated lip and flicked it at the floor. ‘And?’
‘There’s one or two points I’d like to get clear. ’Tis comin’ up to winter – what happens if it’s a bad one an’ we cannot work ’cause o’ the frost? If we put all our money back into buying materials we’re not gonna have any put by for emergencies
.’
John seemed indifferent. ‘What emergencies? We’ll not starve. I can allus magic up a couple o’ pheasants.’
‘An’ the rent, an’ the children’s clothes an’ Christmas?’
‘Christ, it’s nobbut October an’ he’s worryin’ about Christmas. Any road, we could allus have it written into contract that we get paid at halfway stage.’
‘John,’ Patrick tussled with his impatience. ‘You’re talking as if we already have a job lined up. That’s the other thing I wanted to clarify: how do we go about finding these rich pickings? I know we’ve earned ourselves a good reputation lately but that’s for small bait. Nobody who wants a large job doing would even consider us.’
John shrugged. ‘Uncle John’ll think o’ summat.’ Then he saw Ghostie at the bar and went to get his own tankard replenished. ‘Now, Ghostie, yer not looking any better. How’s work goin’?’
‘As ever,’ replied Ghostie mournfully.
‘Plenty of it then?’
A shrug. ‘Things’re picking up a mite. Baxter’s got plenty fixed up – well he will have if his tenders are approved.’
Something clicked in John’s mind. ‘Can I buy yer a jar, Ghostie, old lad?’
Never had it been known for Connors to refuse anything free. After the landlord had served them the two men went to sit with Patrick. ‘Ghostie were just tellin’ us, Pat,’ John looked meaningfully at Patrick, ‘things’re much improved for our friend Baxter. Seems he’s gotta lot o’ work on.’ He turned to Ghostie and asked nonchalantly, ‘D’yer think he might have too much to cope with?’ A shrug from Ghostie. ‘See, me n’ Pat are thinkin’ o’ going into partnership, aren’t we, Pat? Thought you might be able to help.’
‘I can’t see how.’
‘Is he er, is he payin’ yer any better lately, Ghostie?’
Ghostie raised haunted eyes. ‘Was that meant to be a joke?’
John glanced around him, then lowered his voice. ‘How would yer like to earn yerself a few bob, then?’
Ghostie came as close to showing some form of life as he could muster. ‘What would ye be wanting me to do?’ John told him. ‘Jesus Christ!’ The cry was that of a banshee. ‘I can’t do it, John. Oh no, I can’t do it.’
‘Look, all y’ave to do is let us in t’office when Baxter’s out o’ road,’ protested John. ‘Me an’ Pat’ll do rest.’
‘He means he will,’ corrected Patrick.
After much bargaining it was agreed that Ghostie should carry out the service for the fee of one sovereign. ‘Done! an’ on the strength o’ you two going to line me pockets I’ll buy ye both a drink.’
‘Good God yer’ll ’ave us droppin’ dead wi’ shock next,’ said John, and when Ghostie was out of range chuckled and raised his tankard. ‘Here’s to our funereal friend, may his embalming fluid never run dry.’
The following morning in the same alehouse Patrick handed over payment, thanking Ghostie for his help and offering him a drink.
‘Next time, Pat. I can’t stop, I’ve a funeral to attend.’
John looked alarmed. ‘Not yer own, I trust?’
‘D’ye want I should make it yours?’ Ghostie could never see why they were amused by his looks.
‘Sorry, mate,’ John shouted after him. ‘An’ thank you kindly. If y’ever need a favour… don’t come to me.’ A grin at Pat.
By undercutting the tenders they had copied from Baxter’s files they made sure that both were duly accepted. They decided to attack the bigger project first which, they surmised, would take a month to complete, depending on the cooperation of the joiner they contracted to assist. That would mean they could probably complete both jobs by Christmas, weather permitting.
Their first act was to use most of the contents of the cocoa tin to buy the required materials which did not please Thomasin. ‘An’just how d’yer expect me to buy extra food an’ presents for Christmas?’ she asked sourly.
‘Nay, Christmas is weeks off yet,’ answered John cheerfully. ‘That tin’ll be twice as heavy by then.’
‘Who pulled your strings?’ snapped Thomasin. ‘I was speakin’ to Patrick.’ She faced her husband squarely. ‘Well? I’m waiting for an answer.’
‘Ye’ve just had your answer,’ replied Patrick curtly, indicating John with a nod. ‘Now, will ye stop your nagging, you’re beginning to sound like someone else I know.’ Then his expression softened and he took hold of her shoulders. ‘Tommy, stop worrying, everything’s in our favour. Our luck is changing. Sure, we cannot fail.’
‘Can’t yer?’ she asked bitterly. ‘Why not? Since when has Fate ever been kind to us?’
‘Sure, it brought us together, did it not?’ he asked with a twinkle. ‘Wasn’t that a good thing?’
‘Of course it was an’ I want it to stay that way! That’s why I’m beggin’ yer not to go through wi’ this. I’ve got this feeling that summat awful’s gonna happen.’
‘What can happen? The weather’s mild, we’ve another job for when this one is finished. What could possibly go wrong?’
‘I don’t know,’ she answered lamely. ‘I’ve just got this feelin’, that’s all.’ She pleaded with him. ‘Please, Pat, we’re just getting on us feet, don’t go risking all yer’ve worked for, not yet.’
But as Patrick emptied the gold coins into a purse she knew that nothing would change his mind.
* * *
It transpired, however, that Thomasin’s fears were groundless; the work completed towards the end of November was highly acclaimed by the gentleman for whom it had been carried out.
‘Excellent!’ cried Percival Dodd on inspecting the finished extension to his house, ‘You are to be congratulated, gentlemen, on your diligence and craftsmanship. A most satisfying undertaking.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ John tugged his forelock. ‘Er, would it be presumptuous o’ me to ask, seein’ as ’ow you’re so pleased, like, if you’re acquainted with h’anyone who needs work doin’ to pass on our names?’
‘Not presumptuous in the least,’ replied Dodd. ‘It will be a pleasure to bestow upon my friends the benefit of your skills. Indeed, I cannot express sufficient praise for your work.’
John grinned later as he watched Patrick make up Dodd’s account. ‘Let’s ’ope he’s as forthcomin’ with the cash as he is wi’ the flowery phrases.’
Patrick swore as his pen deposited a large blot on the paper. He screwed it into a ball and started again. ‘What I want to know is what do we use for materials for our next job?’ Dodd’s extension had left them with only enough bricks to make crude beginnings on their next assignment. It might be weeks before Dodd settled up.
‘We do what everybody else does,’ answered John. ‘Get the bricks first, pay later.’
‘Will they let us do that?’ asked Patrick, no businessman.
John laughed and slapped the other on the knee. ‘Don’t you know yer Uncle John by now?’
With a new supply of bricks they embarked on their second commitment. This too was accomplished within a matter of weeks and drew further commendation from the recipient. The two men began to envisage a great new career unfolding before them. Thomasin was not so impressed.
‘Yer’ve not been paid for either of ’em yet. Christmas is only a few weeks away. When’re we supposed to see some o’ t’benefits?’
The arrival of a letter interrupted her reprimands. Patrick ripped it open and fluttered it between thumb and forefinger, beaming triumphantly. ‘Look at that, Mrs Feeney.’
Thomasin scanned the letter which asked for a quotation on the building of a wall, then threw it on the table.
‘What’s wrong with ye, woman? Can ye not raise a smile? ’Tis more work we’re being asked to do.’
‘It’s not money though, is it? Bits o’ paper don’t pay t’rent. D’yer know how much there is left in that tin? I’ll tell yer: one sovereign, one bloody sovereign. That’s hardly enough to last us a week, never mind Christmas.’
As the day crept nearer Patrick began to sha
re her concern. He had started to receive bills of his own, demanding payment for the building materials he and John had purchased, making them unable to secure any more until those were paid for. He had sent letter after letter to Dodd but as yet there had been nothing from that quarter. But with John’s unquestionable talent for providing food and countless trips to the pawn shop they were able to keep their heads above the mire. Even so, a visit from his mother-in-law three days before Christmas did nothing to detract from Patrick’s unease. Though Thomasin had done her best to arrange the furniture in order to hide the gaps, Hannah’s sharp eye immediately noted the absence of two items.
‘I seem to remember you had a what-not standing there, Thomasin,’ she remarked, looking round for somewhere to lay her gloves. ‘Have we been rearranging the furniture, dear?’
Thomasin lifted the kettle from the fire and filled the teapot. ‘Aye, well it were gettin’ a bit crowded in ’ere so I decided to shift it.’
Hannah smiled patronisingly. ‘Come, come, dear, you cannot fool your mother. You have had to sell it, have you not? Short of money again, I presume. Hah. I might have known that all Patrick’s fine talk about a business partnership was all nonsense, that all it would amount to would be to land you in Poverty Row once again. I can tell you now, dear, you will never succeed in escaping from here, but then I warned you before your marriage what would happen, did I not?’
Patrick caught the tail-end of her unbending criticism as he and John limped in after a hard day of tramping the streets enquiring after work.
‘Good evening, Hannah,’ he said with little cordiality. Hannah balanced her cup and saucer elegantly. ‘Ah, good evening, Patrick. Thomasin and I were in the process of discussing your business venture. It seems that it was short-lived.’
Patrick furrowed his brow. ‘I can’t think what leads ye to that impression, Hannah. In fact our business is proceeding in the manner that John and I foresaw it would.’
A Long Way from Heaven Page 33
