Josephine Cox - A Woman’s Fortune

‘I’ve just finished,’ announced Evie, beaming at her best friend. ‘Gran says she’s got mending to do and I’ll help Mum with the tea, so we won’t have to be long.’

Mary looked to Jeanie for confirmation.

‘Best get going, then,’ Jeanie smiled.

Mary produced a paper bag of bull’s-eyes from her pocket as the girls went outside and Jeanie could hear them giggling as they skipped down Shenty Street as though they didn’t have a care in the world.

She smoothed down her pinny and put the kettle to boil, pleased to hear Evie’s laughter. Her daughter had been oddly preoccupied today. Evie worked hard, and Jeanie worried that she sometimes forgot Evie was only sixteen, barely a woman yet.

Sue and Jeanie were enjoying a few minutes’ sit-down with a well-deserved cup of tea when they recognised Michael’s heavy footsteps approaching.

‘Got the sack, didn’t I?’ Michael told them, untying his work boots before hurling them through the open back door in a show of temper. ‘There was a mix-up about the maintenance of some pipes and there was a bad leak this afternoon and a lot of beer was lost. Mr Denby called me in. It was like he’d made a note of every single thing I’ve ever missed. I reckon he’s had it in for me for a long while.’

‘Oh, Michael!’ Jeanie’s face was completely white. Deep down she knew her husband was a slacker. He sometimes went into work the worse for wear from the night before, but he was popular at the brewery with his mates and it hadn’t occurred to her that he might be less popular with his boss.

Sue kept quiet but her expression was grim.

‘Couldn’t you go and ask him for another chance?’ Jeanie suggested quietly.

Michael gave a hollow laugh. ‘No hope of that. I told him he could stuff his job and I was well out of it. He never remembers when I’ve done summat properly, only when he wants to pick holes. I told him that straight. I’ve had it with smarming round Denby, at his beck and call all day.’

‘But he’s the boss , Michael.’

‘Aye, well, not any longer,’ muttered Michael. ‘I’ll be my own boss from now on. I’ll answer to no one. If you women can do it then so can I. I can tout my skills around, earn some money from my own gumption.’ He gave a brief smile. ‘Give folk a bit of the old charm, butter ’em up, like, I’ll soon have plenty of satisfied customers.’

‘Like you did Mr Denby, you mean?’ muttered Jeanie.

Sue passed Michael a strong cup of tea with sugar in it. ‘I think Jeanie means you’ll need to find paid work straight away,’ she said diplomatically, trying to keep the peace. ‘It can take a while to build up customers when there’s only you to do it.’ She was fond of her son-in-law but she thought he lived too much by his belief in his luck, and not enough by hard graft.

‘Look, I’m sorry, love. It’s not your fault,’ he went on, taking Jeanie’s hand. He lifted it to his lips and planted a kiss on her rough skin. ‘Mebbe I do need to find work with someone else. I’ll have a look around and see what’s going. There’s proper house-building now – I’m sure I’ll be able for summat. I’m going to have to be,’ he added quietly, sounding unusually forlorn.

Jeanie got up and hugged him to her. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll find a new job,’ she said. ‘In the meantime the washing’s going well and we can take in some more for a week or two, just to tide us over.’

‘I’ll ask around at church,’ said Sue, though they were already working to capacity. ‘That’s where I heard about Mrs Russell, after all.’

As the two women rallied their own spirits and tried to pull him up with them Michael felt even worse. He wondered when would be the best time to break the news of his debt from the card game, realising even as he considered it that there would never be a good time. Maybe if he held his peace something would turn up …

‘Dad, you’re home early,’ said Evie, appearing with the boys at the back door. ‘Here, have one of these sweets – they were giving them away at the shop ’cos the box got wet or something. Anyway, they’re all right.’ She passed round the sweets and then looked properly at her parents.

‘What? You two are a bit gloomy. You haven’t had bad news, have you?’ she asked, wondering whether her father had told her mother about the debt to Mr Hopkins. Then again, it might be something quite different that was making them look so down; perhaps they’d heard someone was ill or even dead.

‘Evie, would you go and collect Bob, please – you’ve probably seen him playing in the street – and Peter, too?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

Evie’s stomach was churning by the time she’d rounded up her brothers and they all trooped into the kitchen where their parents and Grandma Sue were now sitting round the table. Whatever it was, it was very serious.

‘Mum, Dad, tell us. What’s happened?’ asked Evie.

‘I’m out of work, lass,’ said Michael solemnly.

‘Oh, Dad …’ Peter said. ‘But you’ll find another job.’ He sounded confident.

‘Of course, Pete. I shall have to.’

‘Will we starve?’ asked Robert, looking anxious. ‘Will we have to go and live in the woods, and eat berries and boiled nettles?’

‘Give over your nonsense,’ said Jeanie. ‘I don’t know where you get such daft ideas. We’ve got the washing, and your dad’s going to find another job, so in a week or two it’ll all be back to normal.’ She ruffled Bob’s hair and gave him a reassuring smile.

‘But it won’t be,’ Evie blurted out. It was as if her mouth suddenly had a mind of its own.

They all turned to look at her and in that moment her suspicions were confirmed: Dad hadn’t told Mum and Grandma Sue a word about the debt. It was time to face up to the truth. She couldn’t keep quiet a second longer, as if she didn’t know, while Mum and Grandma Sue tried to make the best of things and Dad sat there taking them in, pretending it was all going to be all right.

‘What do you mean, love?’ asked Sue. ‘There’s no need to get upset. We’ll manage somehow.’

‘I mean, what about Mr Hopkins? How on earth are we going to pay what you owe him, just from the washing, Dad?’

Michael sat open-mouthed and there was total silence. It was broken by Sue, who sprang to her feet with surprising speed, looming over Michael, her face a picture of fury.

‘And who the hell is Mr Hopkins?’ she roared.

‘Right, Mum, I’m off to see Evie,’ said Billy, putting a cup of tea down beside his mother’s armchair. ‘Have you got everything you need? I won’t be late.’

‘You’re a good lad, Billy. I’m right as rain, don’t you fret.’

Billy wasn’t looking forward to helping Michael Carter sort out his problems repaying Mr Hopkins. Being a postman, Billy tended to know more than most what happened in several neighbourhoods, though he wasn’t a gossip. He’d heard of at least two men who had been beaten up when they couldn’t pay Hopkins, and some who had had their possessions taken by Hopkins’ men in payment of their debts. Billy had thought before now that, what with Michael’s drinking and his betting, if it hadn’t been for the laundry the family would probably have gone under.

Billy got as far as the corner shop on Lever Lane, at the junction with Shenty Street, when Geraldine Sullivan emerged, rummaging in her handbag and bringing out a packet of Craven ‘A’ cigarettes.

‘Hello, Gerry. Just finishing work, are you?’

‘Yes, it’s been a long day. Mr Amsell does the evening papers but it’s my job to sweep up and tidy the storeroom. I’ll be glad to get home and take these shoes off – and these stockings. It’s that hot in the shop.’ She fanned herself prettily and Billy tried not to think about her taking off her stockings.