Josephine Cox - Live the Dream

‘Oh, Dave, I hope he’s not setting some of you off. I know how much you like your job.’ Marie knew that when work ran short, the rule was always last in first out.

‘I’m sure it won’t come to that, lass.’ Seeing their worried faces he assured them, ‘It’ll be summat and nowt, you’ll see. And besides, the brush production side of it has never been busier. While the two wagons have been parked up, the brush delivery vans have been on the go as usual. Look, don’t worry. I’m sure there’ll be an explanation for the slow-down on the other side.’

Marie nodded. ‘Happen you’re right, love.’

But she was uneasy all the same.

Dave left in plenty of time. ‘I’ll see you both later,’ he said and, with a twinkle in his eye, he told Amy, ‘This fella you’ve got in your sights, don’t keep him all to yourself, lass. Me and your mam would like a glimpse of him some time or another.’ And with that, he went away whistling.

However, when he got out of earshot, the whistling stopped. ‘I hope Hammond’s not about to finish some of the workforce,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t want to lose my job. I can’t go back working in the shop, not now our Amy’s given up her own job to help her mam. And, oh, I did hate being cooped up.’

Striding along in the cold morning air, he felt like a free man. There was something about being outside, even when he was driving along in his wagon – something so natural and satisfying, he would be greatly sad to lose it.

‘Morning, Dave.’ The big man was a loader at Hammonds. ‘I’m not looking forward to this ’ere meeting, I can tell you.’

‘Morning, Bert.’ Dave greeted him with a friendly nod, though his voice carried a worried tone. ‘Do you reckon we’re in for the chop then?’

‘Oh, aye.’ The big man’s expression said it all. ‘I reckon some of us are bound to be finished. What with the building half empty and two wagons stood off, we must be losing orders. I can’t see Hammond keeping a full workforce on, however good a man he is. Can you?’

As they turned the corner of Montague Street, they saw the tram about to pull out. Setting off at a run, they leaped onto the platform and hurried to sit down.

‘I think you might well be right,’ Dave said, squashing himself next to the big man who was taking up two-thirds of the slatted seat. ‘And if he is getting shut of some of us, I’ll surely be one of ’em,’ he contemplated. ‘Last in first out, isn’t that what they say?’

‘Mmm.’ Preoccupied with his own predicament and the missus with a new babby on the way, Bert didn’t answer straight off. Instead he stared absent-mindedly out the window, his mind turning over what Dave had said. ‘It doesn’t allus work out that way,’ he replied presently. ‘Sometimes they get rid of the older ones first. And that’ll be me included.’

They spent the rest of the journey in silence. There was much to think about, and the more they thought, the more anxious they became.

While Luke straightened his tie at the hall mirror, Sylvia looked on.

‘Why are you going so early this morning?’ Drawing near, she looked proudly at his reflection in the mirror. Immaculate in a dark blue suit, with white shirt and dark tie, he looked every inch the employer gentleman. ‘You look especially smart today.’

She reminded herself that he looked smart every day when he was going to his work. But on a Tuesday, he didn’t go to his work. She knew that because she had given Georgina the slip when they were out shopping and gone to his factory once, and he hadn’t been there. ‘He never comes in of a Tuesday, miss,’ some helpful, misguided lad had told her.

So, in spite of her enquiries and much to her consternation, she still did not know where he went on Tuesdays. She had asked him many times, but he always fobbed her off. ‘Work doesn’t present itself,’ he told her. ‘I need to put time aside to go looking for it.’ Which, even Sylvia knew, was no lie.

‘I have to be at work for seven fifteen,’ he answered her question.

‘Why?’ She hated it when he left in the mornings.

Used to her inquisitions, Luke answered her again. ‘Because I’ve called the men together for a special meeting.’ Leaning sideways he gave her a sound kiss. ‘It wouldn’t go down well if I was late, would it now?’

‘And what about me?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t want you to leave me, that’s all.’

Concern showed on his face. ‘What’s wrong? Is there something you’re not telling me?’ He had tried hard to read the signs but her moods were so unpredictable, it was impossible to know.

‘No there isn’t!’ She began to grow agitated. ‘I know what you’re thinking, though,’ she snapped sulkily. ‘Go on then. Why don’t you ask me if I’m about to go crazy?’ She was painfully aware of the times when she lost control, and afterwards, filled with shame and fear, she knew little about what had taken place. During that dark period when her mind went into some kind of chaos, she was totally helpless.

Lately, because of something her sister said, she had convinced herself it was the price she had to pay for taking a lover outside her marriage. Sometimes Georgina said things like that – things that made Sylvia feel bad, and which she found hard to forget. Georgina had always had a spiteful streak. Sometimes they were such friends – like sisters ought to be – and then Georgina would be mean. When they were little, Mummy had said Georgina was just jealous, when Sylvia told tales of her, and to take no notice. But now Sylvia found it hard to cope with her sister’s unkindness, which, as ever, could strike out of the blue.

Now as she goaded him, the fear was etched in her face. ‘Go on, Luke! Ask me if I’m about to lose control!’

Turning, he took her gently by the shoulders, his voice soft with compassion. ‘And are you,’ he asked, ‘about to lose control?’ There were times when she took him by surprise. One minute she would be perfectly normal, and the next she would be like a raving lunatic, hitting out at anything and anybody; smashing whatever she could lay her hands on.

It was at times like that, when he feared she might harm herself.

‘Stop fussing.’ Pushing him away, she suddenly smiled. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘In fact, I’ve never felt better.’

‘So, what did you mean just now when you said, “What about me?”’

‘Like I said … I don’t want to be left alone, that’s all.’ A little flurry of fear turned her insides over.

Astonished, he asked, ‘Do you really think I would leave you alone?’

Just then the rear door opened and Edna popped her head round. ‘Seven o’clock, Mr Hammond,’ she said with a homely grin. ‘And here I am, as promised.’

Sylvia’s face lit up. ‘Edna, it’s you !’

‘Well, it isn’t anybody else, you can be sure o’ that,’ came the chirpy reply. ‘Now then, who wants a brew?’

‘Not for me, thanks.’ Concerned about the time, Luke told her, ‘I’d best be off or I’ll be late.’

‘Well, it won’t be because I let you down,’ she declared. ‘I were out of my bed a full hour afore time on account o’ you.’ She wagged a finger as she told him mischievously, ‘O’ course, I’ll be wanting overtime money, you understand?’

He tutted. ‘Oh, I’m not sure I can promise anything like that,’ he teased. He and Edna understood each other very well.

Having already removed her coat and slung it over her arm, she pretended to put it back on. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’ Her voice was firm but her smile was growing. ‘If you aren’t going to treat me right, I shall take leave of you.’

Sylvia chuckled. ‘Behave yourselves! Stop teasing her,’ she chided Luke. And turning to Edna, she told her firmly, ‘And you’re just as bad. “Overtime money”, indeed. We’ve always looked after you and always will.’