Better Days Will Come (13 page)

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Authors: Pam Weaver

Tags: #Sagas, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: Better Days Will Come
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‘Harriet, I remember some of what you told me about life at the camps,’ said Marion. ‘I admired the way you set down ground rules and everyone adhered to them. This girl is so desperate to keep her baby, I’m sure she will co-operate with whatever you deem as necessary.’

‘Well, you’ve certainly taken the wind out of my sails,’ said Harriet shaking her head. ‘I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

‘I can’t say I have,’ Marion smiled. ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’

Harriet gave her a slow smile. ‘I suppose it is.’

‘Good,’ said Marion setting down her cup and saucer decisively. ‘Then that’s settled.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ Harriet protested. ‘I still have to persuade the council yet.’

‘I’m sure you’ll do an admirable job,’ smiled Marion.

‘It won’t be easy,’ Harriet cautioned.

‘Talk to them about the cost,’ said Marion. ‘They love the idea of saving money. Tell them that by the time you’ve deducted everything, they’ll be getting a top-class worker for half the price.’

‘You’re incorrigible,’ Harriet grinned. ‘We should have more people like you in government.’

‘Whatever for?’ said Marion. ‘We women already rule the world.’

Ten
 

The girls at work were horrified when they saw the state of Grace’s face on Monday morning. The black eye was beginning to fade and the place where her head had hit the floor was almost back to normal but for some reason her cheek was still quite blue and puffy. They wanted to know what had happened and when she gave them a brief outline of events, they showered her with concern. Snowy was particularly upset.

‘I had a bad feeling about you walking around with all that money,’ she said. ‘I should have said something.’

‘I wouldn’t have listened,’ said Grace honestly. ‘I just wanted the money out of the house and into the hands of those who had saved it.’

Once they began their work on the production line, talking was almost impossible over the noise of the machines and Grace certainly didn’t want to shout her business to the rooftops. She worked slowly and steadily until their mid-morning break.

‘I’ve got to find a way of getting extra money,’ she confided in Snowy. ‘Any ideas?’

‘None,’ Snowy said, ‘but if you think of something, let me know. I could do with a bob or two myself.’ But no sooner were the words were out of her mouth than she realised Grace was serious. ‘You’re not thinking of paying them out of your own pocket, are you?’

‘I’ll have to.’

‘No one expects you to,’ said Snowy. ‘What happened wasn’t your fault. That’s life.’

‘I have to,’ Grace repeated.

They sat in silence for a few minutes then Snowy said, ‘Can you sell something?’

‘The piano’s gone and the clock. I had saved a bit of money myself, that can go, and Cyril Harper gave me fifteen bob for Michael’s cup.’ Grace related the story and Snowy listened wide-eyed with amazement.

‘So how much have you got altogether?’

‘Twenty-three pounds, seventeen and ninepence,’ said Grace. ‘I still need twenty six pounds two shillings and thruppence.’

‘Ouch,’ said Snowy. ‘I’ve no idea where you could get that kind of money in a hurry.’ She thought for a minute. ‘Have you asked Taffy Morgan if he needs somebody to play the piano?’

‘I think he’s already got someone,’ said Grace.

‘Surely not seven nights a week,’ Snowy suggested. ‘The fella must have a night off.’

‘I’m not sure Taffy would like the idea of a woman playing in a pub but I suppose it’s worth a try,’ Grace sighed.

‘Look here,’ said Snowy. ‘As you know, I’ve been making dollies for Christmas.’ She had come to the factory last October with a sweet little rag dolly she’d made out of an old pair of stockings and some underwear. She intended to keep it for when her Kate had a child but the girls were so taken with it they pressured her to make dollies for them. She had ended up with a fair-sized order for Christmas. ‘I only made them out of scraps. They didn’t cost me a penny but everybody paid me. It’s not much, but you are welcome to it.’

Grace’s eyes pricked with tears. ‘Oh Snowy, you are kind but I can’t.’ She squeezed Snowy’s hand. ‘You’re a real pal.’

Snowy’s cheeks flushed. ‘Get on with you.’

Norah Fox, the supervisor, blew her whistle and the women went back to the production line. As they stood to go, she said, ‘The boss wants to see you in his office, Grace.’

Grace stiffened. ‘What for?’

Norah shrugged.

Grace glanced anxiously around at her workmates. He can’t do anything here, she thought. Not with everyone else around. All the same she dreaded the thought of being alone in the same room as him.

Norris Finley’s office was up the stairs and along a metal staircase going along the factory wall. As she made her way along, Grace was aware of every eye following her. She knocked on the door and entered.

Norris was sitting behind his desk, on the telephone. He motioned for her to take a seat and finished his call before turning his attention to her.

‘Good God, Grace,’ he exclaimed as he put the receiver down, ‘whatever happened?’

Grace relayed the now familiar story and he regaled her with questions. ‘Have you had a doctor look at that face?’ She nodded. ‘Do you need time off to recover?’ She shook her head. ‘Have they caught the blighter yet?’ Again she shook her head. ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’

Grace was poised to shake her head again when a thought crossed her mind. ‘Can you give me some overtime? I want to pay the people back.’

‘Whatever for?’ he said, his voice rising. ‘You don’t owe them anything. It wasn’t your fault.’

‘They saved long and hard for that money,’ said Grace. ‘I’ve sold some things and I’ve got nearly twenty-four quid but I still need a lot more.’

‘How much?’ he said faintly.

‘Twenty-six, twenty-seven quid.’

‘It would take you months and months to pay them back even with overtime,’ he said.

Grace nodded. ‘I know, and they’ve promised they’ll wait. I feel badly enough about the miserable Christmas they’ll all be having this year. Don’t you see? I have to get their money back.’

Norris was staring so hard she was beginning to feel embarrassed, when all at once he stood up and went to the safe at the back of the office. After turning the dial, he fiddled around inside for several minutes then stood up saying, ‘Grace, I want you to have this.’

When he stood up, he had a wad of notes in his hand. Grace rose to her feet. ‘Oh no, Mr Finley, I can’t. It’s very kind but I can’t.’

He counted and held out thirty pounds. ‘Take it, Grace. For old times’ sake. Look, I’m really sorry about the other day. I don’t know what got into me. I was way out of line and I’m sorry.’

She hesitated.

‘You don’t want this to spoil Rita’s Christmas, do you?’ He waved the notes in her face. ‘I’m sure she’s upset enough about her sister running off like that. Take this and enjoy the holiday.’

Grace was puzzled. Norris wasn’t known for his generosity. If he gave something there was always a catch. What was the real motive behind this? She hated herself for being so churlish but she knew him too well. She shook her head again. ‘It’s very kind of you but I can’t. If you would just give me some overtime …’

‘So those people will have to forgo their Christmas this year all because of your pride,’ he said sharply.

Grace was cut to the quick. This was the third time someone had offered to help. Each time it came from a totally unexpected source. She turned to face him.

‘All right,’ she said quietly. ‘Thank you, Norris. I’ll take you up on your offer.’

He smiled and reached for an envelope. Stuffing the money inside he pushed the lip inside it and handed it to her.

Grace hesitated before putting out her hand. ‘No strings attached?’

‘As if,’ he grinned.

‘I mean it, Norris.’

He looked her straight in the eye. ‘No strings attached.’

She turned and left the room, closing the door softly as she left. Norris watched her go, his eyes fixed on her bottom and the gentle sway of her hips under that thick gabardine overall all the factory girls wore. He hadn’t really noticed before but it was obvious the woman didn’t wear a girdle. A smile played on his mouth and he sighed in anticipation. Let her enjoy her Christmas. Come the New Year and he would claim his prize. Everyone had their price and when the time was right, he’d reel her in. He felt himself harden. It was a long time since he’d wanted a woman so badly.

Eleven
 

Christmas Eve was a hive of activity in the town house. Bonnie and Richard put up paper chains and she left him putting up the Christmas cards while she went to the kitchen to collect his mid-morning milk and biscuit.

Cook was talking to someone who had just brought some sprigs of holly ‘brought up from the country’. He looked suspiciously like a spiv. The government had been talking about cracking down on them but in these austere times they seemed to mushroom on every street corner. Apparently this one had just happened to knock on the back door, but Bonnie wasn’t convinced. It seemed to her that he had come by prior arrangement, and Dora had let him in. He was neatly suited and wore highly polished shoes. He and Cook huddled together for a few minutes and then he went outside again.

Bonnie thoroughly disapproved of the black market. Her mother had always refused to be part of it. She couldn’t help wondering how much the holly had cost. A tidy penny, she thought. How far away home felt at that moment. It was easy enough to find holly in Titnore Woods or across the fields near Durrington. The spiv came back with a small chicken when Cook turned around and saw Bonnie looking. She put her finger to her lips and shook her head and Bonnie knew to keep quiet.

The spiv was clean-shaven but when she came close up, Bonnie could see that his David Niven-style moustache had been helped along with a black pencil. As he left he bumped her shoulder.

‘Want a nice pair of stockings, lady?’ he said out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Two and a tanner. You won’t get better.’

For a second or two Bonnie was sorely tempted. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had a nice pair of stockings but she shook her head. She didn’t do it out of a noble desire to avoid the black market, nor out of churlishness, but quite simply because she had nowhere to go and no one to wear them for. The door burst open and Lady Brayfield walked in.

‘What’s he doing here?’ she frowned crossly.

Cook blushed a deep red.

‘Just on my way, Missus,’ said the spiv brightly. He tipped his hat. ‘I can see I’ll have no joy here. Morning, ladies.’

‘And make this the last time,’ said Lady Brayfield crisply. ‘I’m going to make sure that the side gate is locked so you needn’t come back when I’m gone.’

She followed him to the gate and after a few more sharp words, she locked the gate noisily.

‘Don’t invite that man back in here again,’ she said accusingly as she walked through the kitchen.

‘Perish the thought, Madam,’ said Cook innocently. Lady Brayfield swept out of the room. The doorbell was ringing as she opened the kitchen door. ‘Don’t worry, Dora,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I’ll see to it.’

Bonnie took the holly into the sitting room and she and Richard laid it on the mantelpiece and along the picture rails. After that, she helped him wrap his Christmas presents. Richard had bought his grandmother a pretty headscarf and his mother a brooch and some perfume. The child had gone up in Bonnie’s estimation when he had happily spent the whole of his £5 on the two women. Thank goodness Lady Brayfield had enough spare coupons although Bonnie suspected most of them had come from Richard’s mother. Being incarcerated in the home meant that she had no opportunity to go out or buy new clothes.

After luncheon Bonnie had taken Richard to the pictures, her special Christmas treat for him. She chose
Hue and Cry
, a story about a gang of boys who manage to foil a master crook, and for a couple of hours Bonnie quite forgot her own problems. Richard was on the edge of his seat and thoroughly enjoyed himself.

Back home they had tea and then played card games until bedtime. By the time she had got him settled, Bonnie was tired. Of course, George was never far from her thoughts. She wavered between feeling frantic with worry because she didn’t know what had happened to him and angry that he’d left her pregnant and alone. Her heart was heavy and she was very homesick. Did Mum and Rita miss her? She lay staring at the ceiling as she relived some of those precious moments with George and thelong walks she’d enjoyed with Rita along Worthing sea front.

She had been to the post office earlier in the day and to her delight there was a letter from Miss Reeves. Bonnie saved it until she was alone in her room.

 

Dear Bonnie,

I must say I was quite surprised to get your letter and more than a little alarmed that you have left home so abruptly. I have seen your mother in passing but she was reluctant to talk about you, merely saying you were doing well and that you might be coming home shortly. Against my better judgement, but in deference to your wishes, I was very careful not to tell her that you had been in touch with me. Now that I have received your letter, I must ask you to reconsider. It seemed awfully cruel not to inform your mother that you are as well and happy as you indicate.

From what I can gather, from the short conversation I had with your mother, your sister has left school early and is working in Hubbard’s. I’m sure this must be a disappointment to your mother because she did so want Rita to go to secretarial college, but times are hard and we must all do our bit.

Bonnie, for whatever reason you have left home, I’m sure you can patch it up. This is the season of goodwill, and Christ came so that we might be reconciled one to another. Won’t you reconsider your plans? Let me know if I can help in any way.

Be assured of my prayers, my dear. Come home soon.

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