All the bakehouse staff had gone home long ago and Anne was alone with Mr James who was banging furiously about the bakehouse, swearing and cursing. She nervously wiped down the shelves and counters then mopped the floor.
Just as she finished Mr James appeared. ‘Don’t put that bucket away,’ he ordered. ‘Change the water and mop out the bakehouse.’
When she went in to the bakehouse he was cursing again and flung some baking tins in the sink. ‘Get them washed,’ he shouted. ‘Wait ’til I see that bloody Dolly! Look at those bloody corners. Bloody sodding women! Shift yourself. Clean them out and get right in the corners. Plenty of bloody soda, you hear me?’
Anne was terrified and plunged her arms into the hot water and scrubbed frantically at the tins, her tears dropping on to them as she worked. After his outburst James had become quiet, and soon Anne’s tiredness was forgotten in her fear of the man.
He had moved to stand behind her, his paunch pressing against her so that she was pushed against the sink. His arm came round her, brushing against her developing breasts as he took the tins and pretended to examine them.
A sound at the door made him move away swiftly as Mrs James came in. She looked at Anne’s tear-stained face and demanded suspiciously, ‘What’s going on?’
‘That bloody Dolly. Left the tins half washed,’ he blustered. ‘Be just the bloody time an inspector’ll come.’
‘And why is she still here?’ Mrs James questioned.
‘Somebody had to wash the bloody tins, didn’t they? Although she’s no bloody good either.’ He snatched the tin from Anne. ‘Go on, beat it,’ he ordered, and she ran through for her coat and flask and thankfully escaped.
It was nearly eight o’clock as Anne stumbled home, feeling drunk with fatigue. As she turned into Magdalen Street Tony was setting out. He stared at her in horror and put his arm around her. ‘Anne, what’s happened? Where have you been?’ he said.
‘At work,’ she said. Her tongue felt thick and her words were slurred. ‘Cleaning.’ She could say no more and Tony put his arm more firmly around her and almost carried her home. He burst into the kitchen with her, his eyes blazing. ‘Look at her,’ he cried. ‘Half dead. Couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. I’m going down there. I’ll kill that Aussie.’
Pat and Julia had jumped to their feet in dismay, and her mother rushed to Anne as Tony lowered her onto the sofa. ‘Anne love, what happened? Where have you been?’
‘In that shop,’ Tony shouted angrily. ‘Cleaning, she said. I’m going down there.’
‘Hang on, hang on,’ Pat said, clamping his hand on Tony’s shoulder. ‘We’ll get the whole story first then I’ll see the fellow. It’s my place.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ Anne said, putting her arms around her mother’s neck and bursting into tears. ‘I thought he’d never let me come home.’ The relief of being at home was almost too much to bear. Tony’s anger was blazing again but his father restrained him. ‘No, lad,’ he said grimly. We’ll hear it all first. You be off now. Don’t worry. He won’t get away with it.’
After Tony had gone, Pat mixed a spoonful of brandy with hot water and sugar and held the cup to Anne’s lips. She pulled a face but he said firmly, ‘Drink it, queen. It’ll do you good.’ She drank obediently.
The brandy seemed to run through her body like fire and she sat up, feeling stronger. ‘Now tell us what happened, love,’ her mother said. We thought you must have called into Aunt Carrie’s.’
Between her tiredness and the brandy Anne found it difficult to tell her story coherently but her parents were able to gather how hard she had worked and how callously she had been treated.
‘And that Jessie just went off and left you to it, a little girl like you?’ her mother said angrily. And her father said, ‘But tell us, queen, what about when you’d done the shop? What were these tins?’
‘The baking tins,’ Anne said. ‘Mr James said Dolly hadn’t cleaned in the corners and he made me do them. He kept saying “bloody” all the time.’ She shuddered. ‘It was horrible. He was pressing his stomach against me while I was washing the tins…’
‘What?’ her father shouted. ‘What do you mean?’ His face had suddenly become red and congested and Anne said nervously, ‘I was standing at the sink and he was behind me and his stomach was pushing me against the sink. I was frightened.’ She began to cry and her mother took her in her arms and rocked her, saying frantically over her head, ‘Pat, Pat, have sense! Don’t go now!’ But her father had snatched his coat and was roaring, ‘I’ll kill him! By God, I’ll kill him!’
He rushed out and Julia clutched Anne. ‘Oh, merciful God, he’ll go berserk,’ she exclaimed, then crossed herself and began to pray. ‘O Lord, stay his hand,’ she prayed. ‘Watch over him and keep him from damaging the man.’
‘Oh, Mum, I shouldn’t have told him,’ Anne said fearfully.
Julia looked at her terrified face and tried to smile reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, lamb. Your dad’s bark is worse than his bite. He’ll just give that fellow a fright!’
She gave Anne a quick kiss and stood up. ‘Now how about something to eat?’ she said briskly.
‘I couldn’t, Mum,’ Anne said, but when her mother brought her a bowl of barley broth she was able to eat and enjoy it.
‘Now off to bed,’ Julia said, ‘and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.’ Anne would have liked to wait to see her father but she was too weary, and when Julia went up with the tea a few minutes later, she was fast asleep.
In a surprisingly short time Pat was back, his temper restored.
‘That feller’s had a fright he won’t forget in a hurry,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘He’ll bully no more little girls.’
‘Pat, what did you do?’ Julia said fearfully.
‘Don’t worry, girl. I didn’t leave a mark on him,’ he said. ‘I nearly battered the door down and the wife came down and opened it. She knew who I was and why I was there the minute she laid eyes on me. Took me upstairs and he was there shaking like a jelly. I stood over him and he wet himself. It’s the God’s truth, Julia, he wet his trousers.’
‘He must have been frightened,’ she gasped.
‘Aye, and I frightened him a bit more. I told him his fortune, I can tell you. You should have heard them, blaming each other. Him saying she was always clearing off and her saying he didn’t make Jessie pull her weight, but I think she’s the boss there.’
‘It’s often the way with a bully like that,’ Julia said. ‘Did you say – about what Anne said he’d done?’
‘I did,’ Pat said grimly, ‘and that really put the cat among the pigeons. She flew at him, tried to scratch his eyes out, and she said something. I didn’t think much of it at the time, too busy trying to stop her murdering him, but I thought about it afterwards.’
‘Why, what did she say?’
‘Something about him at his old tricks. Did he want to have to run away from here too? I wonder was he run out of Australia or got out in case because he’d been up to these tricks?’
‘And our Anne’s been with a fellow like that?’ Julia said in horror.
‘Mind you, I’m only guessing,’ Pat said. ‘But it might be why she’s got the upper hand.’
‘Thank God she came back when she did,’ Julia said, looking white and shaken.
‘I told him we’d had to restrain our Tony from coming after him. Said he was a big lad and didn’t know his own strength, and he might still go there. Told him I’d report him to the Factory and Shops Inspector too.’
‘I’ve never heard of him,’ Julia said, and Pat said with a chuckle, ‘Neither have I. I just made it up but he believed me.’
‘It sounds as if he was frightened enough without that, but no more than he deserved,’ Julia said. ‘I hope you told him he wouldn’t see Anne again.’
‘I did. He gave me her cards and a week’s wages for her,’ Pat said. ‘He was really entitled to a week’s wages in lieu of notice from her, but I wasn’t going to argue.’
Julia looked in on Anne from time to time, but she still slept all night and on Sunday even while Eileen got up and went to Mass. The family went to Mass and returned and still Anne slept until nearly six o’clock on Sunday evening.
‘I’ve missed Mass, Mum,’ she exclaimed when she woke.
‘No sin. You needed that sleep,’ her mother said calmly. ‘If you get up now you’ll sleep better tonight.’
Remembrance flooded over Anne. ‘What happened with Dad?’ she asked fearfully.
‘He was back just after you went to sleep,’ Julia said cheerfully. ‘Dad told him off and said you wouldn’t be going back there. He gave him a week’s wages and your insurance cards.’
‘But I’d had my wages. I might have to give them back if I leave without notice. He was keeping Jane’s wages, he said.’
‘Don’t worry, Dad’s sorted it all out,’ Julia said. ‘And you got an extra week’s wages out of it.’
* * *
Julia decided that Anne could stay at home for a few weeks before looking for another job, and one evening she decided to walk along to the coal merchant’s office to meet Kathleen. She was waiting across the road when she saw Mrs O’Neill and Cormac turn the corner and quickly dodged back out of sight, feeling shocked and dismayed.
She had been so sure when Kathleen was allowed to take the job it meant the start of a different life for her, but even to go the short distance home she was not allowed to be alone evidently.
Anne peeped round the corner. Cormac and his mother stood close to the door of the office. He was still wearing short trousers even though Anne calculated he must be nearly seventeen. A group of school leavers, swaggering along in their first pairs of long trousers, were whistling derisively at him.
Cormac and his mother ignored them and the next moment Kathleen emerged from the office. She looked pale but otherwise much as Anne remembered her. She was still very neatly dressed with her hair now hanging in a plait down her back, and she walked away submissively with her mother and Cormac.
Anne came home, feeling depressed and worried about Kathleen. It wasn’t the sort of life her friend wanted, she was sure, when she remembered how lively Kathleen had been in class. Although it might suit Cormac.
In bed at night she pondered on the O’Neills and wondered how she could help Kathleen, but always she came to the conclusion that she could do nothing. Kathleen would have to help herself.
Although Anne told herself that Kathleen didn’t have to walk home with her mother and she could just tell her not to meet her, she knew that it was not really so simple. Something that Maureen told her confirmed this.
The O’Neills’ next door neighbour was a keen knitter and was often in Maureen’s wool shop. She told Maureen that a doctor and another man had been to see her. ‘They told me I hadn’t got to say nothing to no one, but I can tell you because I know you won’t talk,’ she told Maureen.
Maureen suspected that the same words had been said to most people in the neighbourhood, but she was too intrigued to refuse to listen.
‘They wanted to know if I ever seen anything of them,’ the woman said. ‘Did I ever see the boy or girl on their own? I told them the three of them went round as if they was glued together.’
‘But the girl goes to work,’ Maureen said.
‘Aye, but they go with her and fetch her home like jailers,’ the woman said triumphantly. ‘It was the lad they really wanted to know about, though. I told them I seen him one time in the yard, dressed up in a kilt with a cloak over his shoulder fastened with a big brooch. I was sitting out on the sill cleaning me windows.’
‘What did they say?’ asked Maureen.
‘They went on an’ on about it but I told them he was like one of them Irish dancers or the band that come over from Ireland one time.’
‘Perhaps he does Irish dancing?’ Maureen said.
‘No. He’d have to practise and we never hear no music there. Not that we listen like but the walls are thin,’ the neighbour said. ‘We only ever hear talking or her reading out to them.’
‘It’s a pity the boy can’t get a job,’ Maureen said.
‘She wouldn’t let him, and he wouldn’t be no good anyway. He was in the same class as my lad. Stan says he was awful mardy. Cried if they came near him. The whole class got the strap one day because they’d been having a bit of a laugh with him and his mother complained, so they left him alone after that.’
‘Did you tell the doctor that?’ Maureen asked.
‘Yes, and he said, “You’ve been very helpful, Mrs Norton,”’ the woman said proudly. ‘That’s when he said not to say nothing, so you won’t tell anyone, will you?’
Maureen promised but when Anne said that she was worried about Kathleen she told her about the doctor’s visit to the neighbour. ‘So someone is trying to do something,’ she consoled Anne.
Chapter Ten
Anne had been at home for several weeks and had fully recovered from her experience at the cake shop. She had started again to apply for jobs, but without success, when Eileen came home one night and said that she had heard of one.
‘The only thing is, it’s another cake shop.’
‘A cake shop!’ Anne exclaimed in dismay.
‘They’re not all like the last,’ Eileen said. ‘This one’s nearer home, in West Derby Road, and the manageress seems very nice. She’s related to Phil Maddan and I met her at their house. Mrs Maddan had told her about you and that James fellow and she said they’re getting busy for Christmas and if you have cake shop experience you might suit.’
Anne looked at her mother. ‘It’s a chance, love,’ Julia said. ‘You know now what they can’t ask you to do, and if you don’t like it you can always leave.’
‘I told Mrs Burroughs that you’d go to see her at the shop tomorrow anyway,’ Eileen said. ‘Mrs Burroughs says it’s up to Mr and Mrs Dyson who own the business, but it’s worth a try, Anne.’
She went nervously to the shop on the following morning and Mrs Burroughs took her through to the bakehouse to see Mr and Mrs Dyson. They were busy but both smiled at Anne and Mrs Dyson said, ‘I believe you’ve got some experience, love?’
She could only whisper shyly, ‘Yes,’ but Mrs Dyson said briskly, ‘It’s up to you, Mabel. You know what you need in the shop.’
‘I think we should give it a try. Anne does have some experience,’ Mrs Burroughs said and Mrs Dyson said, ‘Right. You fix it up, Mabel.’ To Anne she said, ‘Mabel will look after you, love, and tell you what to do.’
It was arranged that Anne should start the following morning, and she knew immediately that she would like the job.
Mrs Burroughs, or Mabel as she told Anne to call her, was a tall, bony woman with large hands and feet and Anne was immediately reminded of her Aunt Bridie. Mabel had the same warm manner and sweet smile.
The other assistant was a girl of about the same age as Anne with large blue eyes and glossy chestnut-coloured hair. She seemed shy but very ready to help Anne and to make her feel welcome. Mabel introduced her as Sarah.
The shop was busy with the morning trade of bread and scones and barm cake, but Anne found the work easy with Sarah prompting her unobtrusively about prices and Mabel and Sarah doing most of the serving. As soon as the rush slackened a girl came through from the bakehouse with three cups of tea.
‘Before the pies come out,’ she said to Anne with a smile. Sarah explained that they did a roaring trade in hot meat pies, mainly to men from banks and offices nearby, or people from other shops.
‘Some women buy them to save cooking too,’ she said. ‘We have a cup of tea before the rush starts, then we have our dinners after it.’
Anne was amazed at the amount of food brought through from the bakehouse and the number of customers queuing for the hot savoury pies, full of rich gravy. When the rush slackened Mabel told Anne she could go for her lunch. Her mother was waiting anxiously for her.
‘How did it go, love?’ she asked. ‘Do you think you’ll
like it?’
‘Oh, yes, Mum,’ she said fervently. ‘Everyone’s so nice. Mrs Burroughs told me to call her Mabel and showed me what to do but she’s not bossy or anything. The other girl in the shop is lovely and really friendly. She told me all the prices and names but in a nice way. Didn’t make me look soft in front of the customers, and they’re nice too.’
‘What about the bakehouse?’ Julia asked, putting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her.
‘We don’t go in there,’ Anne said. ‘The bakehouse boy brings the trays through and the only other one I saw was a girl who brought us a cup of tea each before the rush started for the pies. Oh, I do hope I suit and they keep me on.’
‘Well, do your best, love. You can do no more,’ Julia said. ‘I’m glad you like it anyway. There aren’t many places like that other shop, you know.’
In the late afternoon Mrs Dyson came into the shop. ‘We’re off now, Mabel,’ she said. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yes, fine,’ said Mabel. ‘Anne’s done very well. You can tell she’s been used to tying cake boxes.’
Mrs Dyson smiled at Anne. ‘That’s a good girl,’ she said in motherly tones. ‘See you tomorrow, girls.’
As the day’s stock of bread and cakes was sold, Sarah and Mabel gradually gathered what remained on a few shelves and trays and put the cleared trays and dishes at one end of the shop. Mabel cleared the window and brushed it out with a tiny brush and dustpan, then put a large plant in the centre and ruffled silk around it.
‘Looks classy, doesn’t it?’ she said with satisfaction. Anne agreed and asked if she should wash the glass display dishes.
‘Oh, no. A woman comes in to do them and clean the bakehouse,’ Mabel said. ‘We’ll just sweep the floor before we go, and put out more bags and tissue paper.’
Promptly at six o’clock they left the shop and Sarah walked part of the way home with Anne. Mabel had told Anne that she was pleased with the way she worked, and thought that they would all get on like a house on fire. Anne was almost skipping home.
A Nest of Singing Birds Page 11
