by Lyn Andrews
‘I’ve almost paid Arthur back too. All I have to do now is find somewhere to live and work. I’m afraid I’ve turned Aunty Lizzie’s house into something resembling a small clothing factory. Uncle Jim says it’s like living in a dress shop.’
Hetty nodded, stirring her tea slowly. ‘I’ve been thinking about that, Sophie. As you once mentioned, this is a big house for just one person – much too big. Would you consider coming to live here, with me? I’d love to have you, we get on so well.’
Sophie was lost for words; she hadn’t expected this. ‘But there’s not just me, Hetty, there’s Bella and Maria too. You wouldn’t want us crowding in on top of you and Bella can be a bit of a handful sometimes.’
‘Nonsense, she’s a sweet child. We could turn the big room at the front of the house into your workroom; it gets a lot of sun so the light is good. Then there’s the breakfast room, which isn’t used, and the dining room – either of those could be used for fittings. Upstairs there are four large bedrooms and the bathroom and then there is the attic, Bella could have that as a playroom for there is only a yard at the back of the house, no garden, I’m afraid, and children need somewhere to play. We aren’t far from either the tram or bus stops so your customers could come here instead of you having to traipse all over the city carrying bags and parcels.’
‘You really mean it, don’t you? You have it all worked out,’ Sophie cried. It would be ideal, providing Hetty could adjust to a decidedly more hectic lifestyle and the times when Bella was being far from ‘sweet’.
‘I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, Sophie. Oh, please do say yes. I’d love the company, it’s so very quiet here – especially during the winter months. Some days I never see a single soul.’
Slowly Sophie nodded, thinking how very fortunate she was that she had found two people who were so willing to help make her ambitions come true. ‘Providing I pay you what I would have been prepared to pay in rent.’
Hetty waved her gnarled hands in a gesture of dismissal. ‘We can sort all that out later. Now, have you time to see all the rooms or would a visit tomorrow afternoon be more convenient?’
Sophie desperately wanted to see the rest of the house for she’d only ever been in this room and the kitchen, but knew she just didn’t have the time. ‘Could I come tomorrow, after lunch please? And would it be possible to bring Maria too?’
‘Of course. Bring Bella and your aunt as well, I’m sure she’ll want to see the type of home you’re coming to live in. I know I would if you were part of my family.’
Sophie got up and put her arms around Hetty’s slightly rounded shoulders. ‘Thank you, Hetty. It’s so very kind of you and I do appreciate it. We’ll be here at about half past two.’
‘I’ll take the dust sheets off everything,’ Hetty said happily, thinking that from now on there would be no more quiet, empty days and long, lonely evenings, and that after many – far too many – long years a child’s laughter would again be heard in this house.
Lizzie was utterly lost for words when Sophie arrived home and told her the news. Both Bella and Billy were out playing with friends but Sophie intended to break the news to her daughter that evening.
‘And she wants you to go with us tomorrow, so you can see for yourself what kind of a place it is,’ Sophie finished.
‘And I can actually have a bedroom all to myself?’ Maria cried, delighted at this unheard-of luxury.
Sophie nodded. ‘There are four bedrooms, so we can all have one each.’ She turned to Katie, who was looking just as startled as her mother. ‘And you can have your bedroom to yourself now, Katie.’
‘Does this mean that all the dressmaking paraphernalia will be disappearing too?’ Jim asked with a twinkle in his eye.
‘Yes. You won’t have to move scissors or bits of material pinned to a paper pattern or anything else when you want to sit down to read your paper,’ Sophie laughed.
Lizzie had regained her composure; of course she’d known that Sophie was looking for somewhere to rent, but there was no denying she was going to miss her nieces and little Bella.
‘Most of the rooms have been shut off, things covered up with dust sheets and we’ll probably need to move some furniture around,’ Sophie said. ‘Maybe before we move, Uncle Jim, John and perhaps even Arthur could help us do that. Now I really should go in and tell Arthur the good news, after all it’s thanks to him that I met Hetty in the first place,’ she reminded them, leaving her aunt, her cousin and her sister excitedly discussing the news.
Arthur was listening to his wireless but seeing Sophie’s flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes he switched it off. ‘I can see you are excited about something, Sophie. Is it good news?’
She nodded. ‘Hetty Foster has asked us to go and live with her. She is all alone in that big house so there’s plenty of room for us and for my workrooms. She’s asked us to go tomorrow to see around the place and we might have to move some pieces of furniture and if we do I was wondering if you could give Uncle Jim and John a hand? Oh, I have so much to thank you for, Arthur! If it hadn’t been for you I never would have been able to leave Marsden’s, never would have met Hetty . . .’ It all came out in a rush.
Arthur smiled. He was delighted for her but he would miss her. He’d got used to her sitting in his room at her machine each evening. ‘I’m delighted for you, Sophie, I really mean that, but I have to say I’ll miss you. It just won’t be the same in here.’
The following afternoon the little group got off the tram at the less built-up end of Hawthorne Road and Lizzie looked around with approval. Sophie was holding a rather subdued and apprehensive Bella tightly by the hand for the child wasn’t at all sure that she wanted to leave her aunt’s home and Katie and Billy to go and live in a big, strange house that she remembered being full of things that would break easily. She would have to leave her school and Miss O’Malley and Emily and her other friends but her mam had said she would soon make new ones and that there was a big room at the top of the house that she was to have as a playroom.
Maria was as excited as Sophie, thinking of a proper bathroom and a bedroom of her own – and she also had her own reasons for wanting to move away from Harebell Street.
When they turned into Laurel Road Lizzie noted that there wasn’t a soul to be seen even though it was a fine sunny afternoon. No kids playing; no women standing on their doorsteps gossiping. It was very quiet – a bit too quiet for her, she thought, thankful that Billy hadn’t wanted to come as well. Billy and his hooligan friends wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms in this street.
Arthur had also noted the air of tranquillity and the neatly kept little gardens, and as they approached number five, he thought how pleasant it would be to tend to those rose bushes on a summer evening. Then he dismissed the thought.
‘Well, what do you think, Aunty Lizzie?’ Sophie asked as she rang the bell.
‘I think I’ll wait and see inside before I pass judgment,’ Lizzie answered succinctly.
It was a big house, bigger than she had imagined it would be, and so different to Harebell Street. It was roomy, certainly, but would it be homely?
Chapter Sixteen
AFTER THEY HAD ALL been introduced by Sophie the old lady took them on a tour of the house, and as they moved from room to room Lizzie realised that even though everything had been wrapped in dust sheets, the whole place was in need of a thorough clean. It must have been years since these rooms had seen a duster or a carpet sweeper, she surmised. Perhaps Martha would come to give them a hand?
Sophie had taken one look at the front parlour and decided that it would make an excellent workroom, but that a lot of the heavy, old-fashioned furniture would have to be moved elsewhere. Thick dark green chenille curtains and cream cotton lace ones shut out most of the light so the heavy drapes would have to come down to let in more light. The breakfast room seemed more suitable as a fitting room than the dining room for it was smaller, contained less furniture and would be easier to heat. Also now that
there would be four of them sitting down to at least one meal a day together they would need to utilise the dining room.
Lizzie was astounded by the size of the bedrooms and the quality of the furniture, bedspreads and eiderdowns, even though they were a little faded. With a good dusting, some elbow grease applied to the walnut and mahogany furniture, and laundering of the curtains and linen the place would be fit for the gentry, she thought rather enviously. Sophie noted how neat and tidy Hetty’s own bedroom was and that the faint perfume of lavender pervaded the air.
In the bathroom Maria gazed at the big enamelled bath with something akin to wonder. It stood on legs and had splendid taps that were brass, albeit in need of a polish. Oh, wouldn’t it be heavenly to lie back and soak in a bath like that and have the privacy of this special room? She’d only ever been used to the tin bath that was kept in the yard of her mam’s cottage, hung on a nail, which had been brought in and filled with kettles once a week. It was a ritual that was also carried out at Lizzie’s. Here there was also a separate washbasin with brass taps, a mahogany stand on which hung big white towels and, wonder of wonders, a flush toilet with a mahogany seat. No more having to go down the yard in all weathers – such luxury!
When they reached the attic, even though Sophie and Hetty enthusiastically pointed out all the advantages of having such a big room to play in, Bella was still very dubious.
‘It’s dark, Mam, and there isn’t much room because it’s full of boxes,’ she pointed out.
Hetty laughed. ‘We’ll sort through all the boxes and then put them in the cellar. And it’s not dark – look, there’s a big window and if you stand on tiptoe you can see right across the rooftops.’
Bella smiled politely and turned to her mother. ‘But who will I have to play with, Mam?’ she persisted stubbornly, still unable to see why her mam and the old lady thought this room was so great.
‘Your new friends from school, of course, and I’m sure Emily would like to come to play sometimes and maybe even Billy and Robbie too, if Aunty Hetty doesn’t mind.’
Lizzie raised her eyebrows in horror at the thoughts of the antics her son and Robbie Ryan could get up to up here. They would probably succeed in bringing down the ceiling of the rooms below. The attic too would need a good clean and a fresh coat of distemper to brighten it up.
When they returned to the living room, Hetty Foster announced they were all now going to have tea: Lizzie insisted on helping Sophie’s benefactress to prepare it. The kitchen was well equipped, she noticed: there was a gas cooker and shelves covered with green and white checked oilcloth for the pans and dishes; also a sink of the type known as a ‘butler’s sink’ with a wooden draining board, and two mesh-fronted food presses. There was a scullery off the kitchen and a pantry too, and the floor was of red quarry tiles which would only need mopping over to keep clean. Every other room in the house she’d noted was carpeted, a luxury neither she nor any of her neighbours had never experienced.
After tea, when the dishes had all been washed and put away, Sophie, Maria and their aunt asked to go round the house once more to get a better idea of just what needed to be done and what furniture was to be moved, leaving Bella and Arthur with the old lady. Sophie had wisely brought along a bobbin and some coloured wool for Bella’s ‘French knitting’, which was currently the child’s favourite occupation; she and Emily were engaged in a competition to see who could make theirs the longest.
Hetty was quite content to sit in an armchair by the fire watching Bella work the wool over the four little pegs, while Arthur studied the numerous leather-bound volumes on the shelves of the large bookcase, which took up most of one wall.
‘You have a wonderful collection of literature, Miss Foster. Do you enjoy reading?’ he asked, carefully extracting a book and admiring the gilt-edged pages and the gold-embossed lettering on the spine.
‘I used to, Mr Chatsworth, but my eyesight isn’t what it was, nor is my concentration. I’m rather afraid magazines are my limit these days. My brother Harold loved to read, he collected most of the books. You may borrow that one if you wish. I can see by the way you are handling it that you will take care of it.’
‘That’s most generous of you. I do use the public library but have to spend quite a lot of time there as many of the books I find of interest are not available to take out on loan.’
Hetty nodded. She liked him; he was obviously a cultured and well-educated man. His speech had no trace of a local accent, or indeed any accent, and his manners were impeccable, as was the way he was dressed. His suit had been pressed, his shirt and winged collar were spotless and his boots highly polished. She wondered why he lodged with Sophie’s aunt. ‘Do you have no family at all, Mr Chatsworth?’
He seated himself opposite her. ‘Not any longer. I . . . I’ve been a widower for many years. My wife . . . died young and we had no children. I had an older brother but he was killed on the first day of the Somme and of course my parents are long dead. I have one cousin who lives in America, in Vermont. We correspond occasionally, mainly at Christmas.’
Hetty sighed; his was a lonely life too, or so it appeared. ‘My brother fought in the Great War, he was at Ypres, but thank God he survived. My dear sister Ada passed away three years ago and I’ve been alone ever since.’
Arthur smiled at her. ‘But not for much longer, Miss Foster. I have to say it’s most generous of you to offer Sophie and her little family a home, I know she’s been worrying about finding decent rooms. I’m very fond of her; she is a lovely girl who deserves a far better hand than fate has so far dealt her.’
Hetty smiled at him. ‘I agree and you recognised her potential and invested in her talent, didn’t you, Mr Chatsworth? She told me she could never have managed it without your generosity and your help in wording the advertisements.’
He nodded. ‘Please do call me Arthur, and yes, I had a little money put by and wanted to help and she’s paid me back – with interest, although I didn’t expect or ask for that. I just wanted to give her a chance, a better life than slaving away in a factory all day and then helping her aunt to manage in that cramped, overcrowded house.’
Hetty frowned. ‘Arthur . . . er . . . I hope you won’t think me impertinent but I’m curious as to why you reside in Mrs Quine’s house? It can’t be . . . comfortable? You said yourself it’s cramped and overcrowded, surely you could find more . . .’ She paused, searching for the right word. Mrs Quine was a kind, good-hearted woman and Sophie’s aunt and she had no wish to cast aspersions on either the woman or her home.
‘The bombing in Liverpool was very extensive, Miss Foster, I’m sure you’ll agree. So many families lost their homes that lodgings of any kind were – and still are – hard to find.’
She sighed. ‘Yes indeed, we were very fortunate not to be bombed out although Ada and I spent many nights down in the cellar, terrified we wouldn’t survive it all. But did you never have a “family” home?’
He looked discomforted. ‘Once . . . once I did, but then I was . . . away from where I lived for many years, so I had to let it go.’
Hetty realised she was being discourteous and got up to put more coal on the fire but he was instantly on his feet.
‘Let me do that, Miss Foster. That scuttle is much too heavy for you to lift.’
She watched as he expertly banked up the fire and tidied the hearth, just as Harold had used to do, and she came to a decision. The idea had been forming in her mind as she’d been conversing with him and learning that, like herself, he had no family. But, unlike herself, he had no real home either, just one small, cramped room in an overcrowded house that had few of the basic amenities . . . and he’d been very good to Sophie. ‘Arthur, would you . . . would you consider coming with Sophie? To live here, I mean? I . . . it . . . would feel so much safer having a man about the place. This area is still quiet but it’s not as . . . affluent as it used to be.’
Arthur was astonished and for a few moments he just stared at her, trying to take in
the fact that she was offering him a home too, and such a comfortable and pleasant one. ‘Miss Foster, I don’t know what to say. I never expected . . . I never dreamed . . . but . . . but I will be delighted to. You have such a fine, comfortable and spacious home and I’m sure there are numerous ways I can make myself useful. I’m temperate in my habits and I hope well mannered—’
Hetty smiled at him as she interrupted: ‘Indeed you are, I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise. “Manners maketh the man”, poor Ada always used to say, and Sophie has spoken of you often and with affection. And please do stop calling me Miss Foster, it’s Hetty and I think we’ll get on famously. You put me in mind of Harold, God rest him.’
Lizzie relayed every single detail of the house in Laurel Road to Martha next morning and when she’d finished Martha agreed to go and help with the spring clean, as Lizzie was calling it, wanting to see for herself the luxury in which Sophie, Maria, Bella and, surprisingly, Arthur Chatsworth too would soon be living.
‘When do they intend to move in then?’ she asked, sipping her tea.
‘The weekend after Sophie finishes at Marsden’s.’
‘Fancy her asking Mr Chatsworth to go too. Mind you, you’ll miss his money, Lizzie.’
Lizzie nodded her agreement. ‘I will, but we’ll manage. I’ll miss the help in the house those girls give me too. You can be sure our Katie will revert back to her idle self once they’ve gone, all she thinks about these days is getting dressed up and going out with Matt Seddon. But we will have more room. Mr Chatsworth’s always kept himself to himself, so we may hardly notice he’s not there. And I can’t blame Sophie, she does need proper workrooms now, her business is going from strength to strength.’
Martha looked thoughtful. ‘And at least she’ll have moved before our Frank arrives home. I had a postcard from a place called Las Palmas, wherever that is, saying he should be back in Liverpool by the nineteenth, weather permitting.’
