Kitty Neale - Sins of the Father

‘We’ve only been home for five minutes, Em,’ Luke said. ‘We were just about to start.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, love,’ Emma cried as she flopped onto a chair. ‘I shouldn’t be taking it out on you, but I’ve been walking for hours.’ She pushed off her shoes, massaging her aching feet.

‘Did you get a job?’ Susan asked again.

Emma tried to sound more assured than she felt. ‘No, not yet, but don’t worry, I’ll try again tomorrow.’

‘Come on, you lot,’ Luke said, sounding older than his years. ‘Let’s get our jobs done. Emma’s worn out and needs a rest.’

The tears broke then. Oh, Luke was such a good boy, so thoughtful.

He rushed to her side and his arm snaked around her shoulder. ‘What’s up, Em? Do you want me to get Alice?’

‘No, I’ll be all right. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.’ They were all looking at her worriedly and she fought to pull herself together. ‘Go on then, get on with your jobs,’ she urged, pleased when they all did her bidding. She had told them she’d try for work again tomorrow, and she’d do just that. But where?

After trudging around Fulham the following day, Emma had paused on Wandsworth Bridge on her way home, staring down into the grey, murky water of the River Thames as a coal barge passed below. It was hopeless, nobody wanted to employ her, and she had hated telling the kids that she still hadn’t found work. It was her appearance, she was sure of it, especially when even an ironmonger had given her the cold shoulder.

Now it was ten o’clock on Friday morning, but instead of going out to look for work again, she was slumped on a stool at home. Her father was growing impatient, telling her to look harder, but then the door was flung open as James rushed into the room.

‘Alice sent me up. She wants to see you.’

Emma forced a smile as she rose to her feet. James looked lovely in his new clothes. He was wearing grey shorts that just reached his knees, a pristine white shirt, and he even had a pair of little slippers on his feet. She may have had doubts about the two youngest living with Alice, but seeing how well James looked, any lingering reservations were dispelled.

‘What does Alice want?’

‘I dunno. She just said to tell you that the kettle’s on.’

A cup of tea, Emma thought, appreciating the woman’s kindness. With James in the lead she went downstairs.

‘Blimey, you look a bit fed up, love. What’s the matter?’ Alice said as she walked in.

‘I’ve been looking for a job, but nobody wants to take me on. I look too scruffy to work in a shop and the factories haven’t any vacancies.’

‘You’re such a pretty girl and we can spruce you up to look like a princess, more than fit to work in a shop. Come on, get this cup of tea down you and then we’ll start with your hair.’

‘Look, Emma,’ Archie said, holding up a little wooden boat. ‘Ucky Cyril made it for me.’

‘Uncle Cyril, not Ucky ,’ Alice chuckled.

‘I’ve got one too,’ James said, joining Archie on the floor.

As the two children played with their boats, Emma watched them for a moment, noticing how clean and shiny their hair looked. She took a gulp of tea.

‘Unlike those two, it’ll take more than my hair to improve my appearance, Alice,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry. I’m sure I can find you something decent to wear.’

Alice had a lovely curvaceous body and Emma doubted she could fill her clothes. Her own bust was small, her hips tiny in comparison, and she was at least two inches shorter.

As if sensing her thoughts, Alice grinned. ‘I used to be a lot slimmer than this and I’ve kept the clothes I used to wear back then, hoping I’d get back into them one day. Come on, I’ll show you.’

Emma placed the cup on the table, then followed Alice into her bedroom. Unlike her family’s attic room, this one was lovely. Instead of mattresses on the floor, there was a real double bed with a wooden headboard and flowery spread. Emma’s eyes took in the two double wardrobes and dressing table, a pink glass trinket set arranged prettily on top. With so much furniture the room looked stuffed full, but to Emma it was beautiful.

Alice opened one of the wardrobes and when Emma saw the rail of clothes she gasped with envy. Alice rummaged past a couple of plain, linen dresses, finally pulling out two blouses and a skirt. ‘Cyril is always moaning that I never throw anything away, but I knew these would come in handy one day. Here, try them on.’

‘Oh, Alice, how can you afford so many lovely things?’

‘My Cyril earns a decent wage on the buses and there’s only been the two of us until now. I wanted kids so much, but they never came along. I think I shopped as a kind of compensation. Of course, during the war there wasn’t much on offer, only drab clothes, but I still managed to indulge myself. Since clothes rationing ended, I must admit I’ve gone a bit mad.’ She smiled softly. ‘It’s different now. The boys have changed our lives, and Cyril is growing as daft about them as me. Now come on, Emma, try these things on.’

Emma slowly undressed, ashamed that Alice was going to see her old and tatty knickers. She didn’t have a brassiere, but with her small bust it didn’t seem to matter. As Alice turned away to pull open one of the drawers in her dressing table, Emma hastily put on the skirt and first blouse. The light blue cotton skirt flared from the waist and felt a little loose. It was also a couple of inches too long, but she didn’t care. It looked almost new and felt wonderful. The white blouse with its Peter Pan collar was loose too, but it smelled fresh, of something flowery, and so soft against her skin.

‘They don’t look bad,’ Alice said. ‘You’ll just need to move the button on the waist and take it up. I’ve found some underwear too. This bra might fit you.’

‘I…I don’t think I need a bra,’ Emma said, feeling her face redden.

‘Of course you do. You can’t go around without a bra on at your age. Now come on, put your own stuff back on and we’ll have a go at your hair.’

‘You won’t be able to do anything with it.’

‘Of course I will, but first we’ll give it a good wash.’

Emma was apologetic. ‘I’ve tried to make it look nice, but without soap it dries all matted.’

‘Oh, love, I’m not saying you aren’t clean. I know you do your best, but as you say, it needs to be washed properly. Come on, I’ve got just the thing, and then I’ll give it a bit of a trim.’

It was over two hours later when Alice finally sighed with satisfaction. ‘There, you look smashing,’ she said.