A Woman’s Fortune

‘I don’t see that he’s any choice if he can’t pay it all. He has to take responsibility, love.’

‘But I’m afraid if I tell Dad all this he’ll take no notice of me. He never likes to face up to problems and I’m sure he’d rather carry on as usual at the pub and betting on the races than pay what he owes Mr Hopkins. And I don’t want Mum and Grandma to be scrimping and doing without because of what Dad owes, Billy. They’ve been working so hard and Mum’s getting all worn out, and Grandma’s feet are so swollen in the heat and she’s bone-tired. She should be sitting down in a comfy chair and drinking tea like that nice Mrs Russell, not working to keep Dad in beer and card games.’ Evie felt hot, angry tears springing to her eyes.

Billy put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him, wrapping her in his comforting embrace.

‘Do you want me to talk to your dad?’ he asked after a minute in which Evie’s tears subsided as he hugged her against his jacket.

Dad might take some notice of Billy, who was older than she, and a man, of course, but she felt the responsibility for her family should be hers.

‘Shall we both talk to him?’ she suggested. ‘I think he’ll listen to you but it was me that found all this out, and he is my dad, after all.’

Billy stood up and took her hand. ‘I’ll come round this evening after he’s had his tea and we’ll say our piece then, all right?’

‘Thank you,’ said Evie, giving Billy a hug. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Billy kissed the top of her head, then let her go. As he took up his bag to go back to the depot, he watched Evie walking back to her house halfway along Shenty Street. Before she disappeared down the passage she turned to wave with a little smile and Billy felt his heart lift.

He retrieved his bicycle from where he’d chained it to a lamp post, worried about Evie’s future.

Mr Hopkins had a reputation as a bully and there were some nasty stories about him. Billy didn’t want anything violent to happen to Michael Carter. He was Evie’s dad, and Evie’s happiness was very close to Billy’s heart. She was a hard worker and everything she did was to help her family, even giving up school, for all she loved it, to help her grandmother with the washing business.

As he cycled back to the mail depot, Billy resolved to help Evie in whatever way he could. She was an angel and he would never let her down.

CHAPTER TWO (#ub16b3ae8-23db-5489-b0d9-03ab1a88e9b3)

Evie met Harold Pyke from down the road at the back of her house as he was leaving.

‘What did Mr Pyke want?’ she said, going into the scullery.

‘He brought us some peas from his allotment. Says they’re the first of the season,’ Jeanie said.

Sue was wringing out some garments from the dolly tub and putting them in a large bucket, her hands red-raw from the morning’s work. She winked at Evie and looked sideways at Jeanie, who was poking stray curls back under her turban with a damp hand.

‘Just an excuse to come round and admire you in your pinny, if you ask me,’ laughed Sue.

‘Go on with you. He was only being kind,’ said Jeanie, though she looked pleased.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time Harold Pyke’s come round offering veg,’ said Sue. ‘You want to be careful, our Jeanie. He’ll be asking for something in return before long.’

‘Well, what a thing to say!’

‘Don’t encourage him, then, lass.’

‘I can’t help it if the fella’s taken a shine to me,’ Jeanie gave a comical but telling little grin.

‘Not just that fella, either,’ said Sue. ‘I’m not surprised he’s bringing round peas, the way you’ve been tossing your hair around. It’s nice to have the peas and that, but be careful not to fascinate him with your smiles and tossing your curls around.’

‘How can I toss my hair when I’m wearing a scarf?’

‘It’s what you were doing, turban or no turban. And, as I say, there are others, too. That Derek Knowles, for instance. And Patrick Finlay from round the corner. We’re not doing their washing for nowt but a cabbage and a bit of flirting.’

‘I’m a happily married woman and I’m certainly not labouring over a hot copper for a cabbage or a bag of peas, so don’t you worry.’

‘So long as you’ve got that straight,’ said Sue. ‘Now, our Evie, what’s Billy’s news?’

‘He’s coming round later, after tea.’

‘He’s always welcome. He knows that,’ said Jeanie.

Evie wished the business of her father’s debt wasn’t the reason for Billy’s visit, but maybe with his help it could all be resolved without upsetting Mum and Grandma. Evie was feeling better now she’d spoken to Billy.

As she carried the bucket of clean wet clothes to the mangle in the outhouse, she decided not to worry any more about her dad until she had to. There was work to be done, and plenty of it.

It was mid-afternoon when the boys erupted into the house. Jeanie made them each a jam sandwich – thick bread, thin jam – and they went off noisily to play in the street with Paddy and Niall Sullivan, passing the Sullivan boys’ sister Mary on their way out.

‘Hello, Mrs Carter,’ said Mary from the back door.

‘Come in, lass,’ Jeanie called out. ‘That frock’s come up smart, hasn’t it?’ she added to Mary. The school summer dress was second-hand, and Sue had altered it to fit Mary a treat. School uniform was expensive and Mary didn’t mind that hers wasn’t new. She was well aware how fortunate she was to be allowed to continue at school and study, the only one of the seven Sullivan siblings to do so.

‘Mrs Goodwin’s done a stupendous job with it,’ said Mary.

Stupendous – whatever next? thought Jeanie.

‘Is it all right if Evie and I go for a stroll up to the park? I won’t be keeping her from her work, will I?’

‘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.’