For a Father's Pride

by Diane Allen

  ‘I’m sorry, William . . . If there’s something more I can do?’ Daisy pushed her shoes back on her feet and walked over to the door, turning the Open sign over and bolting the door. ‘Here, sit on the stool, and I’ll restock the shelves and sweep the floor, ready for the morning.’ She knew how William felt. She knew what it was like for your world to fall apart. ‘How did you find him? How’s Jim?’

  ‘He regained consciousness while I was there, and then fell back into a deep sleep. He managed to tell me that he fell, which I don’t believe for a moment. I just can’t understand why he was at Water Street at that time of night. He never drank down there. All right, he probably sowed a few oats with the whores when he was younger, but even then he knew always to be careful.’

  Daisy stacked the empty shelves. William covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

  She put down the items she was stacking and gently put her arm around her employer. ‘He’s a strong young man. He’ll pull round, and he’ll be back bossing us all around before we know it.’ She patted William gently and looked at the hurt in his eyes as he lifted his head.

  He smiled through the tears. ‘You’re right, Daisy. He’ll be all right. Us Mattinsons don’t give in easily.’

  ‘He’s a character, our Mr Jim, but he wouldn’t want to see you like this. And besides, you should see the takings in the till and the orders for delivery. If we can manage them, and it carries on like this, you’ll both be millionaires.’ Daisy tried to lighten William’s mood. ‘And we’ve sold all the china to a Lady Amelia, nonetheless, along with a weekly order.’

  ‘You’ve done well, lass. Tomorrow we’ll put up an advert for an apprentice. Some young lad will want a job – he can do the donkey work and leave the rest to us. Talking about donkeys, I’m guessing the horse hasn’t been fed. I’d better see to it, and then we’ll call it a day here?’ William pulled himself together as he counted the day’s takings.

  ‘Oh my God, I’ve forgotten the poor creature.’ Daisy was horrified. She would never have forgotten the horse in the old days.

  ‘Never mind, Daisy. He’ll appreciate his food more, for going hungry. I’m sure it won’t be the first time. Our Jim is always forgetting the poor bloody thing. You sweep the floor, and then we’ll go home. I want to tell Angelina that Jim’s talked to me and, hopefully, is going to be fine.’

  11

  Daisy looked at the scrawny, filthy young lad who stood in front of her. He clenched his crumpled-up cap in his hands and lowered his eyes to the ground, as Daisy viewed him from top to bottom.

  ‘And Mr Mattinson said you’d to ask for me?’ She stood with her hands on her hips.

  ‘Yes, miss. He said I’d to make myself known to the woman behind the counter, and that you’d know what to do with me. And then he said to tell you he will be along shortly, and that things are not as bad as they seem.’ The young lad looked up for a second, then thought better of it as Daisy just shook her head.

  ‘He did, did he? Well, we can’t have you working in here looking like that, can we? When was the last time you had a bath? I’ve seen tatties growing in less muck than is on you.’

  ‘I had one at Christmas, miss. Me mam made all eight of us line up for the tin bath round at my grandma’s.’

  ‘Christmas! That was nearly ten months ago. And there’s eight of you? Where do you fit into the family? Are you the youngest?’

  ‘No, miss, I’m the oldest. Our Tim’s the youngest, he’s just started crawling. Me mam say’s he’s driving her mad – all he does is bawl all the time.’

  ‘So, Freddie – it is Freddie, isn’t it? I think the first thing we’ll do is give your face and hands a wash. That’d be a good start. Then I can see what we have got to work with. There’s a cold tap in the outhouse, with some carbolic soap next to it. Go and give yourself a good scrub – make sure you get behind those ears. And then I’ll see what we can do.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Freddie’s face said it all. He was obviously averse to soap and water.

  Daisy showed him where the outhouse was and left him to it. Eight children and he was the oldest – he only looked thirteen, or less. That was nearly one a year. What on earth was his mother thinking of? Daisy thought that if it was her, she’d have told her husband to chop the offending article off; or she would be kicking him out of bed, to get his pleasure elsewhere.

  Freddie came back into the shop and looked at the dragon who had told him to have a wash.

  ‘Well, let’s have a look at those hands.’

  Freddie held out his hands for inspection.

  ‘Not bad. They’ll get cleaner, the more washes they have. Let’s have a look behind those ears.’ Daisy looked behind his ears and ran her hands through his shortcut hair. ‘Well, at least you’ve no nits. Sit down and I’ll give you something to eat and drink.’

  His eyes lit up as Daisy poured him a glass of milk and cut him a slice of cake, which she gave to him. He immediately wolfed it down as if he’d never been fed before.

  ‘Where do you live, Freddie?’

  ‘On Armley Road, miss.’

  ‘In that terrace near the prison?’

  ‘Yes, miss. We can hear the prisoners yelling some nights.’

  Daisy shook her head. That was one of the worst housing districts in Leeds. The conditions were squalid, and even in her short time in Leeds she’d heard of Armley Road. ‘Call me Mrs Lambert. And here, have another piece of cake.’ Her heart was melting for this little vagabond, and the least she could do was make sure his belly was full before he went home. ‘I tell you what, Freddie. Can you give our horse in the stable behind a good grooming and give him his feed for the evening?’

  ‘Oh aye, Mrs Lambert, I ken horses. I help my uncle, and he’s a rag-and-bone man. I go all over Leeds with him. I’ll look after the horse – what’s its name? I love horses. My mother says I’ll make a good jockey, on account of being so scrawny.’ Freddie had come out of his shell at the mention of a horse.

  Now Daisy knew that she was looking at their new delivery boy. Freddie knew Leeds, he knew horses and he had quite a bonny face when it was clean. Above all, his mother needed the few shillings the lad would earn, to keep the family fed. There was some sense in William taking him on.

  ‘He’s called Ginger, on account on him being a reddish colour – when he’s clean, that is. He’s got a good temperament. Now, off you go. Get him fed and watered before Mr Mattinson comes back, and I’ll give you threepence to take home with you.’

  Daisy watched as the young lad picked up the currycomb and brush and stroked the horse’s withers to gain its confidence. He’d be all right, would young Freddie. She’d make sure of that.

  Jim had missed Daisy’s company for the last few days and was anxious to find out about his replacement.

  ‘I hear we’ve taken on a young lad, Daisy. Am I that dispensable that a young back-street urchin has taken my place?’ He winced as he reached for a piece of the toffee that Daisy had lovingly made and brought to him. ‘These bloody ribs are killing me.’ He lay back on the bed with a flop, while the piece of toffee turned round in his mouth. ‘This is bloody good – another seller for the shop, lass.’

  ‘Never mind my toffee. Yes, we’ve taken on Freddie, and a right grand lad he’s turning out to be. Old Ginger’s never been so well looked after. Anyway, this fall: was it anything to do with a dog? I rather think it happened where that stray you’ve got your eye on hangs out?’

  ‘Don’t know what you’re on about.’ Jim looked at Daisy through swollen, bruised eyes, hardly able to make out her features.

  ‘Well, the dog came by the shop the other day – name of Susie. She was asking after you and wanted me to pass on her “bestest wishes”, I think she said. I told her that you were mending, but probably wouldn’t be making it down to Water Street for a while.’ Daisy smiled.

  ‘She did, did she? Tell her, if you see her again, that I’m fine. And tell her to watch out for herself. That Ebenezer is a bastard. He’d se
e her dead in The Cut, just like me, if she wasn’t making him money.’

  ‘I thought it was a fall?’ Daisy grinned. ‘And Angelina sends her love. William is right under the cosh, now you are out of action. Me too, come to that.’

  ‘Just you watch Angelina. She’s a spiteful cow, too. Jealousy is her best friend, and her father . . . Well, he just thinks he can buy everything – bloody Itai.’ Jim winced again as he moved.

  ‘I’m going to leave you in peace now. You look worn out, but at least you’re back in the land of the living – and back to calling everyone names. I agree with you about Angelina. I don’t know how we’ll fare in the coming weeks, but we’ll see.’ Daisy rose from her hospital chair and looked down at the sorry state of Jim Mattinson.

  ‘Give us a kiss, Daisy petal. I might be dead tomorrow. Give me something to remember you by.’ Jim reached out his hand, only to wince again.

  She bent down and kissed him on the brow, on the only unbruised piece of skin there was.

  ‘I meant on the lips. How can I survive with just that?’

  ‘You’ll live. They don’t call me “Shipley Susie”.’ Daisy grinned at him. She was thankful Jim was recovering, because life at the terrace was dull when he was not around. And he was right: Angelina had no love for anyone but herself and her family.

  The autumn wind blew as Daisy made her way to open up the shop. The leaves fell down onto the grey pavements; their year was done, but they would appear anew in the spring, carrying on the circle of life.

  ‘Oi, Daisy, wait a minute!’

  She turned quickly. Susie was rushing towards her from behind.

  ‘I know you won’t want to talk to me, lass, and I shouldn’t be here, but I just wanted to know how Jimbo is doing? I know I shouldn’t, but I love that man. There aren’t many gentlemen left in the world, and he is one, when he wants to be. Plus he’s better than the bloody foreigners his brother married into.’

  ‘He’s fine, Susie. Go and see him: he’s on ward ten at St Mary’s, and it would make his day.’

  ‘Nah, they’ll not let me in. They know who I am, and what I do. Just you tell him to look after himself.’ She wrapped her shawl around her as the wind blew stronger.

  ‘He said the same about you. Told me to tell you to keep away from Ebenezer. Jim said he was a bad lot.’ Daisy smiled at Susie.

  ‘I know, but a girl has to make a living. You’re not getting me in the workhouse – I’d sooner starve on the streets.’ Susie’s mood dropped, before she bounced back. ‘Give him my love, and I pray to the Lord to keep him safe. And you too, darling. It’s a hard world, without a doubt.’

  ‘I will, Susie. Keep calling by and I’ll pass your messages on. He’ll be glad to hear from you.’

  ‘I will, darling, I will. But think of your reputation – you don’t want to be seen with me.’ And, with that, Susie picked up her skirts and almost ran back down the cobbled street.

  Daisy felt sorry for Susie. She had a heart of gold and she obviously loved Jim. But at the same time there was a little pang of jealousy in Daisy’s heart. Susie wasn’t the only one who had feelings for the lovable rogue; and hers were growing by the day.

  That night Daisy tossed and turned in her bed, thinking about Angelina and the hateful words she had been saying about her brother-in-law. At one time she had actually heard her say to William that perhaps it would have been better if Jim had died. To her, the business was everything. And if anyone got in the way of the Petronellis’ fortune, they weren’t worth bothering with.

  Next week Jim would be home in his own rooms above the shop. However, Angelina could only see the time that was to be wasted looking after him, until his strength returned. Her words were sharp and hurtful. How true what Susie had said when Daisy arrived in Leeds: you had to keep your wits about you, else you could be dead. She’d have to watch herself with Angelina; she was obviously one to keep sweet, or you’d risk your life.

  ‘I’ve been thinking.’ Angelina watched as Daisy bottled the latest batch of lemon cheese. ‘If you gave me the recipe for lemon cheese, I could make it and place it in jam jars for you. Then you don’t have to work such long hours. You look tired, Daisy. My husband shouldn’t ask so much of you.’ She smiled a sickly smile that Daisy had come to realize Angelina hid behind, when she was plotting something.

  ‘I don’t mind being busy. It stops me from thinking. I’m my own worst enemy when I think. It’s like my father used to say: “The Devil makes work for idle hands.”’ The words spilled out of Daisy’s mouth without her thinking.

  ‘Your father? You’ve never talked of your family before. Are they still alive?’

  ‘I don’t know, we lost touch some time ago.’ Daisy didn’t look up, but concentrated on tying the gingham fabric lid onto the jar – the one people had come to expect.

  ‘That’s sad. Family is so important; it comes before everything else, and there is honour to be had with a good family. Will you give me the recipe? It is the least I can do. Besides, baby Charles is such a good baby, I need something to keep me occupied. I’ll mention it to William – I’m sure he will agree. After all, he was just saying what a good salesperson you are, and that young Freddie has taken a great liking to you. It would be better if you worked behind the counter, once you have baked the cakes that are needed.’ Angelina smiled and walked gracefully out of the kitchen, leaving Daisy secretly fuming.

  It was her recipe, not Angelina’s. She fumbled with the string’s knot as she tied and sealed the last jar of lemon cheese. She glared at the label on the jar that said ‘Mattinson’s Lemon Cheese. Made in Leeds’. Too bloody right Angelina could have the recipe. Why should she herself flog her guts out, just for the jar to carry the word ‘Mattinson’s’ on it? Besides, Angelina would soon tire, when she’d stood over the brass jam pan for an afternoon or two, nearly burning her arms and making red blotches appear with the heat. Anyway, with Christmas just around the corner, Daisy had another recipe idea that would sell just as well as lemon cheese. She’d like to see Angelina make Christmas mincemeat – that would be far too complicated for a woman like her.

  ‘So we are all in agreement. Angelina will make the lemon cheese and the marmalade, while you, Daisy, will bake the fresh cakes that we need first thing in the morning, then come and help me in the shop and keep an eye on our Jim, just until young Freddie has finished his delivery round. I think this will work out well. It gives you a little spare time, Daisy, and gives Angelina her kitchen back during daylight hours. And it gives me time to train young Freddie, so that he can eventually learn a trade. Plus, our Jim has someone to hand, just until he gets back on his feet.’

  William Mattinson was laying down his law. He had had enough of warring women in his house, and this was the way forward.

  Angelina smiled. ‘This is fair, my dear husband, and I am grateful that Daisy has been gracious enough to give me both recipes. I will not let either of you down, especially when our sales have been so high. Who would have thought that a small fortune could be made from a simple country recipe.’

  If looks could have killed, Angelina deserved to be dead, as Daisy gave her a long, hard stare. The cheeky bitch: a simple country recipe. If it was that simple, why hadn’t she thought of it?

  ‘And the Christmas mincemeat?’ Daisy turned and looked at William.

  ‘Make me a dozen jars and we’ll see how it goes. It’s a bit too early to take on another product just yet. Let folk get used to what we’ve got, and then we’ll push it more. Plus, our Jim will always be yelling for something. I’ll be glad when he’s back on his feet.’ William scratched his head. He’d just freed up some time for Daisy to call her own, and now she was trying to fill it by looking after Jim and making mincemeat. She was an odd woman – never happier than when she was run off her feet.

  Daisy nodded graciously. She’d have given up on her request to sell mincemeat in the shop if it had meant not looking after Jim. But, on his return, Daisy wanted to be with him as much as possib
le, just to look into his smiling eyes and let him tease her. It had been a long time since she had felt like this, a long time indeed. As her obsession clouded her thoughts, memories of Clifford Middleton arose, taking the shine off her feelings.

  ‘Bloody hell, the place has gone to the dogs without me!’ Jim Mattinson hopped on his crutch through the shop doorway and glanced around, while his brother propped the door wide open for him. ‘What’s this stuff here? Another of your concoctions, I take it? Eh, I like the little bags of toffee. I bet they are going down a treat.’

  ‘Get yourself up them stairs, our Jim, you’re blocking the doorway.’ William urged his brother forward as a bustling shopper tried to get past.

  ‘Aye, can’t get in the way of a sale. What would Angelina say?’ Jim walked to the back of the counter and gave Daisy a peck on the cheek, making her blush.

  ‘You’re back then.’ She smiled.

  ‘Oh God, yes, he’s back. He didn’t stop moaning the whole way here.’ William sighed.

  ‘Aye, I’m back, lass, and I hear you are to be my nurse. You must be mad, trusting me in a bed.’ Jim winked as the customer left in disgust.

  ‘Enough! Get yourself up them stairs, and stop embarrassing Daisy and frightening our customers away.’ William was running out of patience with his free-talking brother.

  ‘All right, I’m off. See you later, Daisy petal.’ Jim winked as he hobbled up the stairs.

  Daisy blushed. She was glad he was back. Looking after his every need would be no problem at all.

  Freddie appeared, red and flushed in the face, just as Jim was making his way up the stairs. ‘Is that him then?’ he asked. ‘Is that the boss’s brother?’ He placed his delivery basket on the counter.

  ‘Aye, that’s Jim.’ Daisy smiled and polished the already spotless china on display, thinking of the cheekiness of Jim Mattinson.