Lou waved her hand at the little row of houses. ‘It’s all going – the whole terrace. The end ones are empty already – all boarded up. As soon as there’s a place vacant, I’ll be off.’ Her voice caught as she went on, ‘It was that big bomb that did it. Brought down the whole of Hope Street, as well as part of this terrace. It undermined the foundations, they say, and now it’s too late to fix it. The whole lot’s got to come down.’
Ellie patted her grandmother’s hand sympathetically, reminded of the story Gran had told her about Harry’s family, trapped in the rubble. It had all happened so long ago, before she was born, but for Gran the memories would always be there. Maybe it would be better for her to move away from the constant reminders. But would she be happy in one of those new multistorey blocks of flats with no garden and no neighbours to chat to over the wall?
Not knowing what to say, Ellie went indoors to fill the watering-can. When she came out again, Gran was sitting with her eyes closed, her face turned up to the sun, her dark print dress pulled up above her knees to expose the thick white legs, knotted with blue veins like rivers on a map.
As Ellie started to water the plants, Gran opened her eyes. ‘Take no notice of me, duck. I’m just feeling a bit sorry for meself. I daresay one of these new flats will suit me fine – they’ve got a lift, and a nice bathroom and indoor lav. What more could I ask for at my time of life?’
‘And I’ll still come and see you,’ Ellie promised.
‘Vi’s moving too,’ Gran said. Her sister still lived in the house a few doors along where the sisters had been brought up. ‘With a bit of luck she’ll get a flat in a different block.’ Gran gave her throaty chuckle and continued, ‘but knowing my luck, the council will put her right next door.’
Ellie laughed too. The sisters were close but she knew Auntie Vi sometimes got on Gran’s nerves with her bossiness and constant criticism of everything and everybody.
When she left her grandmother’s house Ellie felt a lot more cheerful. Gran had seemed much better, resigned to the move and grateful for Ellie’s promised help with the packing and sorting out of the accumulated debris of a lifetime.
Ellie stepped over the broken wire fence and, instead of turning into Kendall Street, she decided to go and see Mr Varney. She couldn’t face going home yet.
As she neared the Roman Road market she scarcely took in the raucous shouts that had formed a background to her life for as long as she could remember. She could hear Sid Varney’s voice above them all. He hadn’t taken on a new assistant after Harry left, promising to keep his job open until he’d finished his national service. Maybe he’d take her on, Ellie thought, at least until Harry came back. If she had to leave school and start earning she’d rather work for Sid than for Tommy Green.
Most of the stalls were family businesses, run by parents and children who all mucked in with unloading the vans, stacking the stalls and clearing up at the end of the day. Sid had taken over the fruit and vegetable stall from his father and, as he’d never married, there were no sons to carry on the business. And he had no brothers and sisters either.
She spotted Sid, standing on a box and shouting his wares. As he extolled the virtues of the huge Jaffa oranges – ‘only sixpence apiece, ladies’ – he juggled two or three of them in the air. A laughing crowd surrounded him and, as he stepped off the box, having finished his spiel, hands stretched towards him, eager for the fruit which, even so long after the war, was still something of a treat.
A rare treat for those with little money to spare for extras, Ellie thought, feeling in her pocket for the few coppers Gran had pressed into her hand as she left. No sixpence though. She’d have to ask Sid if he had any ‘specks’, damaged fruit that he’d be willing to almost give away at the end of the day.
Sid was on his own so Ellie slipped round the back of the stall. The big man smiled down at her as, without a word, she started serving, wrapping cabbages in newspaper, shooting dusty potatoes straight off the scale and into the worn shopping bags held open by the customers. She’d watched Harry do it hundreds of times and was amazed at how easily it came to her – even adding up the prices in her head without any trouble.
When the crowd thinned out, Sid turned to her gratefully. ‘You’re a natural, Ellie girl. ’Arry better watch out or he won’t have a job to come back to when he gets home.’
Ellie laughed. ‘Thanks for the compliment, Mr Varney. But I won’t be taking Harry’s job away from him.’
‘Oh, I forgot. I’m talking to an educated young lady, aren’t I? You’ll be setting your sights a bit higher than a market stall, I bet.’
‘Much, much higher, Mr Varney,’ Ellie said, laughing. When Sid said things like that, she knew he was just teasing. There was no malice in his voice – not like the sneering tones her father used.
‘So you’re turning down my offer of employment, then?’
Ellie’s face fell. She wasn’t sure whether Sid was serious but she knew Dad would never agree to her working on a market stall. ‘I can’t, Mr Varney. I’ve already got a job.’
‘Thought you were goin’ to college.’
‘I wish.’ Ellie forced a smile. ‘It’s all right, Mr Varney. I always knew it wasn’t going to happen. Mum says we can’t afford it. So I start work as a receptionist next Monday.’
‘Receptionist, eh. Some posh hotel up West is it?’
Fortunately, a rush of customers saved her having to reply and Sid did not return to the subject.
When she got home, after helping Sid pack up the stall and load all the leftover produce into the back of his van, she was tired, but well satisfied with the few shillings he’d paid her. He’d also given her a bag full of ‘specks’, a few potatoes and a large cabbage, stuff he swore he wouldn’t be able to sell the next day.
She bounded up the stairs, anticipating her mother’s pleasure when she handed them over.
But as she entered the flat, her father leapt up from his chair. ‘Where the ’ell have you been? Your mother’s been worried sick,’ he yelled.
Ellie flinched at the unexpected attack. She’d thought he would still be out. And where was Mum?
Before she could say anything, Bert was shouting again. ‘You know you should come straight home and help your mum instead of leaving it all to her.’
‘But I’ve been to see Gran – Mum knew I was going. And I’ve been working – helping Mr Varney on the stall.’ She threw the money down on the table and plonked the bag of vegetables down beside it, then turned to go out of the room.
But Bert wasn’t going to let her go so easily. ‘Working, is it? I never thought Miss ’Igh and Mighty Grammar School Girl would lower ’erself to work in the market.’
The scorn in his voice was almost too much for Ellie. But she took a deep breath and turned to face him. She wouldn’t let him see how near to tears she was, or how nervous she was of standing up to him.
‘I don’t consider it lowering myself to work for Mr Varney – no more than working for Tommy Green.’
Bert climbed down. He usually did when Ellie spoke up for herself—as she was learning to do more and more these days. She’d been frightened of his temper all her life, while at the same time wanting to please him and gain his approval. Since that last brutal assault she’d ceased to care, her only aim being to keep the peace.
Now, she noted with satisfaction how he refused to meet her eye. ‘I only got cross cause I was worried, Angel,’ he said, in that whining tone she hated. ‘And Mum likes to know where you are as well.’
‘Where is she?’ Ellie had expected her mother home ages ago.
‘She’s doing an extra shift at the hospital – so you’ll have to get the tea ready tonight,’ Bert said.
Ellie gave an inward shiver. She’d be alone in the flat with him – the first time for weeks. But he hadn’t been drinking. Surely she’d be safe for a while. ‘What time will she be home?’ she asked.
‘About ten.’
‘Will you be going out?’ El
lie tried to disguise the eagerness in her voice and her sigh of relief when he nodded.
She put the vegetables in the cupboard under the sink and piled the fruit into a china bowl which she placed in the middle of the table. Then she prepared beans on toast and made a pot of strong tea – making sure that everything was exactly as her father liked it. He was quite capable of throwing something at her if the meal wasn’t to his satisfaction. She had learned to cope with his outbursts – when she was younger she’d even told herself she deserved it. What she found harder to deal with were his maudlin expressions of remorse afterwards, which inevitably led to the fondling she hated. How could she have believed that the things he did were expressions of love?
Bert finished his meal and pushed his plate away. He picked up his mug and took a long slurp of tea, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. As he stood up, Ellie took the plates over to the sink. She ran cold water on them, then turned to lift the kettle of hot water from the back of the range.
As she did so, her father shrugged himself into his jacket and took his cap from the peg on the back of the door. Ellie sighed with relief. He really was going out. With a bit of luck Mum would be home before he returned.
Her relief was short-lived. He came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘I wish we didn’t have ter fight, love.’ He ran his hand down her arm and grabbed her hand, pulling it towards him. ‘You seem to be avoiding me, lately. I’ve missed yer, Angel.’ Ellie stood her ground, looking him steadfastly in the eye. His hand dropped to his side. ‘What ’appened to that sweet little girl who always tried to please ’er daddy?’ he whined.
‘She grew up,’ Ellie snapped.
His eyes hardened and she steeled herself for a blow. But he moved away from her and a spasm of hatred crossed his face. ‘Yeah. Grown up into a right little tease. I bet it’d be a different story if it was golden boy touchin’ yer up. I’ve seen the way yer look at ’im, big cows’ eyes.’
She felt her face growing hot. She couldn’t deny it. Such thoughts had crossed her mind. But, since the news of his marriage, she’d tried hard to suppress them. She turned away, trying to hide her confusion and self-disgust. She shouldn’t be admitting it, even to herself.
Bert gave a short laugh. ‘So that’s the way the wind blows, is it? Well, ’e won’t be showin’ ’is face round ’ere any more. He’s decided to stay on in the army. Besides, I won’t ’ave him here, now he’s got some tart up the duff.’ His hand shot out and sent the dish of fruit crashing to the floor. ‘I’ve got to go out now. I’ll deal with you later,’ he said as he left the room.
Ellie’s hand shook as she returned the kettle to the range. She stood quite still, her shoulders hunched until the slam of the street door told her he’d gone. She wouldn’t cry, she told herself. It was a good thing Harry wasn’t coming home. She’d been dreading facing him and his new wife.
CHAPTER SIX
Ellie pulled the blankets over her ears to stifle her sobs. She’d tried telling herself it was for the best, that at least she wouldn’t have to face Harry’s new wife just yet. But it was no good.
Loud voices penetrated the fog of misery that had engulfed her and she sat up as her father shouted up the stairs. ‘Ellie, get down ’ere now.’
The doorknob rattled and she was glad she’d wedged the chair under it. But when her mother called softly, begging her to answer, she swung her legs to the floor.
‘Your dad wants to talk to you. Come down, love. He’s in a right paddy,’ Mary whispered as Ellie opened the door a crack.
Downstairs, Bert paced the kitchen, his face livid. ‘You can get down the market early tomorrer and tell Sid Varney you won’t be helping ’im out no more.’
Ellie started to protest.
‘No arguments, girl. You’re not working for him for coppers. I told you, it’s all arranged. You’ll be earning real money.’
‘But, Dad. I can’t let Mr Varney down.’
‘You’ve got a proper job now. And don’t you worry about Sid. I’ll sort him out.’ A spasm of hatred flashed across his face. ‘It’s time he saw I can look after my own family – don’t need ’im interfering.’
Ellie looked to her mother for support but Mary gripped the edge of the sink, avoiding her eyes. Hating to see her mother upset, she nodded. ‘All right, Dad.’
Bert grinned, his mood changing, as it usually did once he’d got his own way. ‘That’s my angel. You don’t want to waste that education on a market stall, do you?’
Back in bed, Ellie wished she’d had the courage to say that, education or not, she’d rather work for Sid Varney than Tommy Green. She remembered Sheila’s tales of what went on behind the scenes. The waitresses and hostesses were employed more for their pretty faces and shapely figures than for their brains.
Her sister hadn’t minded and she seemed happy enough with the way things had turned out – living with the boss in a big posh house and soon to have a baby. Being a kept woman didn’t seem to bother her, but it wasn’t the sort of life Ellie wanted.
She tried to console herself with the thought that the place up West was different – her mother seemed to believe Dad’s assurance that Tommy Green wanted to become respectable.
Ellie couldn’t sleep, wondering why her father hated Sid Varney so much. She knew they’d been friends as children and had been in the army together during the war. Perhaps it was because Sid had his own business, albeit only a market stall, while Bert had been unable to find regular employment until Tommy Green had taken him on.
Next morning, Ellie went down to find her mother sitting by the fire, cradling a cup of tea in her hands.
‘You’re going to be late for work,’ Ellie said, helping herself from the pot.
‘They’ve put me back on nights, now that the nurse I was covering for is back on duty,’ Mary said. ‘It was only temporary and, besides, I prefer night duty – it’s not so hectic. And if I’m off in the daytime I can pop round to your gran’s – make sure she’s all right.’
Ellie bit her lip. She couldn’t tell her mother that the thought of being left alone in the house at night terrified her.
Mary stared into the glowing bars of the kitchen range, apparently lost in thought. She looked up suddenly. ‘I’m sorry about you having to take that job,’ she said.
Ellie refilled their cups, putting the pot down slowly as she turned to her mother. Maybe it was a good moment to mention the scholarship. But her mother went on, ‘You know once your dad makes his mind up, you can’t budge him. If you defy him, he’ll make your life a misery.’
As if it isn’t already, Ellie thought, hearing the defeat in her mother’s voice. ‘I know, Mum,’ she said with a catch in her voice. ‘It’s all right. I won’t make a fuss.’
‘Good girl.’ Mary sighed and ran her fingers through her uncombed hair. ‘I must get washed and dressed. I can’t sit around all day.’
‘You stay there for a bit, Mum. I’ll do you some toast, then I’ll go down the market and see Mr Varney, tell him I haven’t got time to help out. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him what Dad said. I can get the shopping while I’m out, then I’ll clean up. You need a rest if you’re going to be working tonight.’
Mary relaxed gratefully into her chair and Ellie bustled round the kitchen, anxious now to get out of the house before her father got up.
When she reached the market Sid was busy with the early morning rush. He interrupted his banter with a customer and grinned. ‘Thanks for coming, love,’ he said. There was no chance to explain so she shrugged and turned to one of the women, who was testing the tomatoes for firmness.
Half an hour later the crowd had thinned out and Sid sighed and mopped his forehead. ‘Goin’ ter be a hot one today, Ellie. Better go and get us a cuppa before the rush starts again,’ he said, giving her a handful of coppers.
She couldn’t bring herself to say that she couldn’t stay. If Dad saw her, it was too bad. She’d claim she was shopping for Mum.
She h
urried over to Bob’s Café on the corner and came back, carefully balancing a large mug of strong tea and a bottle of Vimto with a straw poking out of it. The bottle had been in the fridge and, as Ellie walked along, she licked at the cold droplets which had formed on the side of the bottle. She glanced round at the busy market, breathing in the familiar smells, enjoying the hot sun on her bare arms. If only she could work for Sid all the time, she wouldn’t mind having to leave school.
When she got back to Sid’s stall he was sitting on an upturned orange box. He reached out for the tea gratefully. ‘Park yer bum, love,’ he said. ‘Make the most of it while we’re quiet.’
Ellie pulled up another box and, without giving herself time to think, told Sid that, after today, she wouldn’t be able to help out any more. ‘As I told you, I start work soon. My dad’s already got me job you see, Mr Varney,’ she apologized.
‘Well, I’m sorry too, love.’ Sid sighed and Ellie thought he really did look disappointed. She hated upsetting him. He’d always been nice to her and she knew Harry thought a lot of him too.
Sid turned to serve a customer before she could reply. When he sat down again he was quiet for a while, drinking his tea. Suddenly he turned to her. ‘Thank God he’s not making you work at that club.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Don’t mind me – I know your mother wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘She let Sheila,’ Ellie said.
‘Well – yes – and we all know what ’appened to ’er.’
A steady trickle of customers prevented any further conversation for a while but when they had time to talk again, Sid turned to Ellie and ran his fingers through the sparse remains of his hair. He gave an embarrassed cough, then blurted out, ‘Sorry, love. Shouldn’t have said that about your sister.’
‘It’s all right, Mr Varney. Everyone knows – that’s why Mum was so upset.’
‘At least they’re talking now though.’
Ellie nodded and told him that Sheila was expecting a baby.
Threads of Silk Page 5
