A Change of Fortune

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A Change of Fortune Page 8

by Beryl Matthews


  ‘Oh, I hope so. I get very frightened at times.’

  ‘Don’t you worry. You let me know if they get too close and I’ll swear blind that I’ve known you, Jenny Baker, for more than three years. That ain’t your real name, I take it?’

  ‘No.’

  Her friend stood up and started getting ready for bed. ‘When you feel like you wants to talk, you can trust me. I won’t breathe a word to anyone about this. You must ’ave been desperate to throw yourself into a life you know nothing about. ’Cos from what I’ve seen of you these past weeks, I reckon you’re more used to having servants than being one. I can guess what you’re going through.’

  Jenny sighed in relief. One day she would tell her friend the whole story, and it was a comforting feeling to know she had an ally at last. ‘I’ll tell you when I feel safe again.’

  ‘I know you will.’

  8

  September 1930

  ‘Okay, you’re on your own. Let’s see you strip that engine down, then put it back together. I’ll count the parts you have left over.’

  Matt tipped his head back and laughed at his boss. ‘You don’t think I can do it, do you?’

  ‘You’ve learnt a lot in nine months and I know you’ve been itching to have a go, but I think it’s unlikely you can do it yet without help.’ Mr Porter tossed him a spanner. ‘Don’t shout for help because from now on I’m deaf.’

  ‘I’m going to prove you wrong.’

  ‘Can’t hear a word you’re saying.’ Jake Porter wandered away, shaking his head in mock bewilderment.

  Chuckling to himself, Matt watched him for a few moments, then tucked the spanner into one of his overall pockets, propped up the bonnet of the car and rubbed his hands in anticipation. This was going to be a real challenge, but he was confident he could do it. He didn’t regret leaving university. There was nothing like the pleasure of getting his hands covered in grease as he worked on the engines. He’d never been so happy.

  The only worry he had was watching the depression take a grip on the country. The stock market crash in America last year was having an impact on most countries now. Britain’s shipbuilding, textiles, coal and things like steel were suffering because of a slump in world trade. Unemployment in Britain was at something like two million, causing hardship for many families. All seemed well with the garage at the moment, but he was watching carefully. The economic signs indicated that things were going to get worse, and, if they did, he would see if he could help the business ride out the storm. He hadn’t mentioned any of this to his boss, of course, as he was just an apprentice. He would wait and watch.

  Pushing aside the concern, he turned his full attention to the engine. He removed each part, nut and bolt, placing them in order on the concrete floor; then it should be simple to put them back the same way. That was the theory anyway. He was determined not to have so much as a washer left over. The crucial test would come when he tried to restart the engine.

  He whistled happily to himself as he set about his task.

  The train to Brighton wasn’t too crowded when Edna and Jenny got on. They found themselves seats in a carriage with only two people in it. Sitting opposite each other, they grinned. A whole day off together was a rare treat. This had only been possible because four weeks ago the Stannards had employed another housemaid, Pat.

  ‘Hope the weather stays warm,’ Edna said. ‘I’m going to have a paddle first, then we’ll have fish and chips, and buy a stick of rock to suck on the way back.’

  They’d been planning this from the day Pat arrived, carefully saving enough money for the fare and a little to spend. Jenny gazed out as the train chugged along. It had taken weeks for her to get over the fright of seeing Gloria at the New Year dinner party. But nothing had happened and she’d gradually begun to relax as winter had turned to spring and spring to summer. Edna was a stalwart friend and hadn’t asked any more questions. She felt secure after all these months. Aunt Gertrude must have stopped looking for her by now.

  As they got away from London and the countryside took the place of buildings, Jenny’s thoughts went back to the lovely school in Kent. Her friends would be preparing for the start of the autumn term. Did they miss her? Did they understand why she had run away? She missed them and the fun they used to have together. If it hadn’t been for Edna, she would have been desperately unhappy during these last ten months.

  ‘Don’t look so sad, Jen,’ Edna said. ‘We’re going to have a smashing time today.’

  ‘Yes, we are.’ She smiled brightly, pushing the painful memories away. She constantly told herself not to dwell on the past, but the thoughts had a habit of sneaking past her guard. She still grieved for her father and was desperately upset that he’d felt he had to take his own life. Although the appearance of a happy family life had been a sham, she had loved him and he’d been kind to her. Her mother hadn’t seemed to care what happened to her, but Jenny couldn’t help but wonder how she was. Living with her sister, Gertrude, couldn’t be a happy experience. At times doubts assailed her. Should she have stayed and tried to help her mother? But the answer was always the same. If she had, she would have been facing the prospect of marriage to Greaves, and that was more than she could have dealt with. It had been her seventeenth birthday last month, and she doubted he would consider that too young! There certainly wouldn’t have been any family opposition. A shudder rippled through her. She’d had to think of her own future, hadn’t she?

  The couple in their carriage got out at the station before Brighton, leaving behind their London newspaper. Jenny picked it up, and as she flicked through the s something caught her attention. She gasped in dismay as she read the announcement: ‘Missing from home since November 1929. Eugenie Elizabeth Winford. Now seventeen years of age; dark hair and brown eyes. Well educated. A reward of £100 is offered for information of her whereabouts. Contact Mr Albert Greaves through the police.’

  Jenny dropped the paper as if it were on fire. Oh, dear God!

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Edna asked, alarmed. ‘You’ve gone white. Are you feeling ill?’

  ‘They’re still looking for me,’ she whispered in horror.

  Edna picked up the paper from the floor. ‘How do you know? Is it in here?’

  ‘Yes.’ She took the paper away from her friend. Edna knew she had a secret, but she didn’t want her, or anyone, to know who she really was. One hundred pounds was a fortune to most people; it would be a very great temptation. Not that she believed her friend would turn her in, but it was better not to put temptation in her way.

  ‘You must be someone important if they put it in the papers.’

  ‘I’m not at all important, but this person wants me back, and it looks as if he will do anything to track me down.’

  ‘He?’ Edna sat up straight, frowning fiercely. ‘Some man’s after you?’

  Jenny nodded, clasping her shaking hands together and screwing up the paper. ‘He’s around fifty, fat and not a pleasant person. The way he looks at me is frightening.’

  ‘One of those.’ Edna was clearly disgusted. ‘Well, don’t you worry. No one knows who you are – not even me – so I don’t think there’s much chance of him finding you after all this time. He must be desperate to put it in the newspapers.’

  One hundred pounds’ worth of desperate! The fear that Jenny thought had left her came rushing back. Thank goodness they hadn’t put a photograph of her in there, but she doubted if they had one; she’d tucked them all in the bottom of her case before leaving, along with her other treasures. ‘I do hope you’re right.’ She leant out of the window and tossed the paper as far away as she could. It made her feel better to watch the wind catch the s and send them tumbling and twisting over a field.

  ‘You mustn’t let it spoil our day, Jen. He’ll never find you. My family don’t know where I am to this day, and it’s been three years since I left home.’

  ‘Of course he won’t.’ She took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. ‘It gave me a frig
ht, that’s all.’

  ‘This is Brighton, so let’s forget everything and just enjoy ourselves, shall we?’ Edna gave her an encouraging smile.

  ‘You’re right. I’m being silly to let it bother me after all this time.’

  Once out of the station they made for the beach, eager to get to the sea.

  ‘Oh, isn’t that lovely!’ Edna gazed out to sea with a rapt expression on her face. ‘Just smell that. Come on, let’s have a paddle.’

  They sat down and removed their shoes and stockings, and, clutching them in their hands, walked gingerly over the pebbles to the water’s edge. They gave a little squeal as the cold water splashed over their bare feet.

  Jenny closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, enjoying its warmth, and listening to the soothing sound of gentle waves as they tumbled on to the beach. The tension she was feeling after seeing the newspaper seeped away. A larger wave hit her and she opened her eyes, looking down at her wet legs. Sand and tiny pebbles were swirling around her toes, tickling her and making her laugh. As the wave rushed back, the undertow sucked the silt from under her feet, throwing her off balance.

  ‘Whoops!’ Edna caught her, laughing. ‘Let’s get some fish and chips. I’m starving. We can have another paddle before we have to go back to London.’

  The rest of the day was fun. After lunch they walked along the pier, hanging over the rails at the very end to gaze out to sea. Just before they had to catch their train they paddled again. Their feet were still wet when they put their stockings and shoes back on, but they didn’t care. They’d had a really lovely day.

  They arrived back at six o’clock, flushed with a day in the open air and very happy. However, as soon as they walked in the kitchen Jenny knew by the grim expressions that something had happened.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Edna asked.

  Cook checked on her roast in the oven, then said, ‘We’ve had a dreadful day. Madam found that two of her snuffboxes were missing from the collection. All our rooms were searched and they were found under the new housemaid’s mattress. She’s been dismissed.’

  Jenny’s heart hammered.

  ‘We was all searched.’ Mrs Peters looked very put out. ‘In all my years of service I’ve never been so humiliated.’

  ‘Jenny!’ The housekeeper appeared in the doorway. ‘You are to go up to see Mr and Mrs Stannard immediately.’

  ‘Why, what have I done?’ She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. If they’d searched her case …

  ‘The master will tell you. Quickly, take off your hat and coat.’

  Jenny thrust them at Edna and then ran to catch up with Mrs Douglas, who was making for the library.

  As soon as she stepped through the door Jenny knew that her security had vanished. Spread across a small table were the beautiful lace and beaded dress and the diamond and emerald pendant that her father had given to her. Not the kind of things a maid would own. She had been foolish to bring the dress, and she should have kept the pendant round her neck, but she’d been afraid of losing it by the seaside.

  ‘You have heard about the thefts?’ Mr Stannard didn’t waste any time.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ She clasped her hands tightly to stop them shaking.

  ‘A thorough search was made for the missing items and these were found in your suitcase. We want to know how you came by such expensive items.’

  ‘They are mine. I didn’t steal them.’ She knew that was not an acceptable answer, but she couldn’t explain. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached out to touch the beautiful dress. It held such lovely memories. ‘I didn’t steal them, sir,’ she whispered. ‘They do belong to me.’

  ‘I think that most unlikely!’

  ‘My dear.’ His wife stood up and walked towards her husband. ‘Perhaps someone gave them to Jenny as a gift.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ He glared at the frightened girl in front of him. ‘Well, I require an explanation.’

  Jenny didn’t answer, as large tears began to course down her face at the memories the dress evoked. Her father’s smile as he’d told her how beautiful she was, and her mother’s nod of approval. They’d taken her to Covent Garden that evening. Such happy memories.

  ‘And how did you come by the diamond and emerald pendant? That cannot have been a gift!’

  Jenny remained mute. She had gone through hardship to get away, and if she spoke now it would all have been in vain. They would go straight to her mother. He believed her to be a thief – his mind was made up. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

  ‘Your silence condemns you,’ he snapped. ‘As you are not prepared to give a satisfactory reason why these items were in your possession, then you are dismissed with immediate effect.’

  His wife tried to intervene, but he held up his hand. ‘I’ll deal with this. I won’t have staff who can’t be trusted.’

  ‘But I haven’t done anything wrong,’ Jenny protested, terrified at being thrown out. ‘My father gave them to me –’

  ‘It’s no good trying to explain now. You’ve had your chance. You may leave at once and thank your lucky stars that I don’t hand you over to the law.’

  She reached out to pick up the dress and pendant.

  ‘Leave those. They will be given to the police to see if they can trace their rightful owner.’

  It was over. Her aunt was bound to have searched her things to find out what she had taken, and then told the police to be on the lookout for them. Terror surged through her. The pendant was her only means of raising money. That was necessary because she was going to have to run again.

  With a moan of despair she lunged for her precious things, hugging them to her as she rounded on Mr Stannard, fear and anger loosening her tongue. There was little point in pretence now. ‘They are mine. My father did give them to me, but now he’s dead.’

  There was a stunned silence in the room. Mrs Douglas, who was still standing by the door, had turned quite pale. Jenny was frantic and spun round to face Mrs Stannard, the words tumbling out without thought. ‘I’ve worked hard for you, never complaining about the long hours, yet you are going to let your husband dismiss me without proof of wrongdoing. I am not a thief!’

  In her anguish she had quite forgotten her cockney accent, and the words gushed out in her best Templeton School accent.

  ‘Who are you?’ Mr Stannard demanded, surprised.

  ‘My dear,’ his wife said, as she took her husband’s arm, ‘something is very wrong here.’

  ‘I know that,’ he said sharply. ‘She doesn’t sound like a servant now.’

  ‘Jenny.’ Madam glanced at the dress again. ‘You appear to be a well-educated young lady. Will you explain why you are masquerading as a servant?’

  ‘I can’t tell you. All I can say is that these are my things and you have no right to take them from me.’ Jenny knew that if the Stannards found out who she really was, Aunt Gertrude would take over her life again.

  Mr Stannard had obviously lost patience. ‘As you refuse to say how you came by these things, then you must leave. I will not have someone under my roof of doubtful reputation.’

  Jenny heard his wife whisper, ‘Do not be so hasty.’

  ‘My mind is made up. This girl is lying.’

  Jenny knew that this was the end of her time here. Still holding tightly on to her things, she ran past Mrs Douglas and up to her room, where she shoved everything into her case. The uniform was left on top of the bed. It didn’t take her more than a minute. Edna had left her hat and coat over a chair, so she put them on, grabbed her case and ran down the servants’ stairs, reaching the door just as Mrs Douglas came rushing after her.

  ‘Jenny, madam is asking for you.’

  She sidestepped the housekeeper and tore through the door towards the street.

  ‘Jenny! Wait.’

  She kept running.

  There was a bus at the stop and Jenny jumped on, standing by the door for a moment as it pulled away, watching Mrs Douglas waving frantically at her
until she was out of sight. Finding a seat near the door, she sat down and bowed her head, too frightened even to cry. Over the months she had begun to feel safe, but in one day her world had collapsed again. It had been a day of complete contrasts: happiness at the seaside, and dismay on her return. Now she was completely homeless.

  ‘Are you all right, miss?’

  ‘Erm …’ The conductor was standing in front of her. ‘Where is this bus going?’

  ‘Marble Arch, miss.’

  It took a great deal of control to stop herself from laughing hysterically. What did it matter? She didn’t have anywhere to go!

  Fishing in her purse, she found a penny and gave it to the conductor.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he wanted to know.

  ‘The next stop but one.’ That would take her far enough away from the Stannard house. Then she must decide what to do. She had to find lodgings before it was dark. There was one pound note in her purse and a few coppers. She immediately regretted the money she’d spent on the trip to Brighton. But how could she have known this was going to happen? It was then she realized that she was owed a week’s wages, and in panic she had run away without asking for the money. Fool, she berated herself. All she’d thought about was getting away before they found out she was Eugenie Winford.

  A quiet moan of despair escaped through her lips. What was she going to do? Resting her forehead on the window, she gazed out, trying to still the panic rushing through her. But what she saw only increased her anxiety. The light was fading. It would soon be dark and she had nowhere to go, no shelter for the night. She thought of the room she shared with Edna and wished fervently that she were back there, safe and secure.

  The conductor came along to take the fares of two people who had just got on, so Jenny fished in her pocket and held out a sixpence when he stopped near her. ‘I’ve decided to go to Marble Arch,’ she told him.

  He gave her another ticket and frowned when he took the money from her trembling hand. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, miss?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ Slipping the change back in her pocket, she tried a smile, but without much success. ‘Will you tell me when we’re there, please?’

 

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