A Woman’s Fortune

‘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.

Geraldine Sullivan was a real looker, with her glossy dark hair and her big blue eyes. If Mary had more than her fair share of brains, there was no doubt that her elder sister had got the beauty. Geraldine had worked at the corner shop ever since she’d left school. Billy thought she was seventeen or eighteen now but it was hard to tell, what with her red lipstick and her hair always nicely done. She had an easy way with the customers and Billy thought Mr Amsell had realised her beauty was an asset behind the counter as well as her manner, because he knew of several men, old and young, who would choose to go to Amsell’s shop just to be sold a paper by Geraldine Sullivan.

‘It’s the way her hand brushes mine when she counts out the change,’ Patrick Finlay had joked. ‘Gives a man hope.’ Patrick Finlay was sixty if he was a day, and was sweet on half the women in the neighbourhood, including Evie’s mum.

‘I hope Ma’s got something nice saved for my tea,’ Geraldine was saying. She laughed and added, ‘That’s if Da, Stephen, Jamie, Paddy, Niall and especially Cormac haven’t scoffed it all.’ Cormac was her youngest brother, aged five, who of all her siblings resembled her most. Plump and cute, he looked like a dark-haired cherub.

Billy joined in her laughter. ‘Aye, you want to watch out for the little ’un. I reckon he’s got the appetite of a brickie.’

Geraldine offered the open packet of cigarettes but Billy shook his head.

‘No, thanks. That’s one vice I haven’t taken up,’ he smiled.

Geraldine lit her cigarette, tipped her head back with a flick of her hair and blew a plume of smoke into the air. ‘Why, Billy, what vices have you taken up, then?’ She looked him directly in the eye. ‘Do tell. I’m interested.’

‘Ah, man of mystery, me,’ Billy replied.

‘I like a mystery,’ Geraldine said. ‘That’s what we need round here, a bit more excitement, don’t you agree?’

‘Mmm …’ Billy nodded, unsure quite what he was agreeing with. Still, it was pleasant strolling down to Evie’s in easy and attractive company, and fortunately, before Geraldine’s flirting got too much for him, they reached her house.

‘Thanks for walking me home, Billy. Always nice to see you.’ She gave the merest wink, produced her key from her bag and opened the front door. ‘See you soon,’ she promised with a glamorous red smile over her shoulder, and closed the door behind her.

Phew, that Geraldine is getting to be quite a girl, Billy reflected. Not many round here had her style. She reminded him of Elizabeth Taylor in that comedy he’d seen with Evie at the cinema – Father of the Bride. Evie’s prettiness was more homely, with her short brown hair clipped back behind her ears, her natural complexion and her girlish figure.

Reluctantly his thoughts turned to the task ahead of him at the Carters’. Best get it over with, and he’d be pleased to help allay Evie’s worries if he could. She was a darling girl and she shouldn’t have to be worried about her father owing money. He crossed over the road, went up the side to the back door and was surprised to find it closed. He gave a knock and Evie came to open it. Her eyes were red and it was clear she’d been crying.

‘Oh, Billy, thank goodness you’re here.’ She pulled him inside and closed the door. ‘It’s worse than I thought. Dad’s lost his job and there’s all this money to find to pay that Mr Hopkins and we don’t know what to do now.’

‘Sit yourself down, love.’ Sue poured Billy a mug of tea. ‘Michael’s told us the worst and it’s twenty-five pounds he owes.’

‘It’ll never be paid,’ sobbed Jeanie, wiping her eyes with an already sodden handkerchief. ‘How on earth will we ever get that much?’

‘We need to know a bit about this Mr Hopkins,’ said Sue. ‘Evie says you’ve heard of him.’

‘I have, Mrs Goodwin.’ Billy glanced around to see if Peter and Robert were within earshot but there was no sign of them.

‘I’ve sent the boys to their bedroom,’ said Sue, correctly understanding him.

‘It’s not good news, I’m afraid. Mr Hopkins runs a card game upstairs at the King’s Head. I’ve heard the stakes start low, but once you’re drawn in they soon get a lot higher.’