A Liverpool Legacy (20 page)

‘I won’t be able to avoid a fight. Not if I refuse Uncle James a bonus.’

‘Well, be sure to work out your reasons first. Get your argument cut and dried and then say what you have to, quietly and calmly. Stay in control. Don’t lose your temper even if Nigel does. Or . . .’ He pondered for a moment. ‘You could just return their document unsigned, with a letter giving your reasons.’

Millie was nervous, she hated having arguments with Pete’s relatives and she was in no doubt this would cause one. If only Pete were here to handle this. Back in the lab, she gave Denis some work to do and then, with a pencil and paper in front of her, wrote out the reasons why she would not agree to this bonus. She’d decided to stay well away from Nigel and was drafting a letter explaining why she was refusing it when he came into the lab.

Her heart sank when she saw him. He pulled out the chair in front of her desk to sit down, and with great affability said, ‘Have you had time to think about Father’s bonus? We do need to move on this if we’re to get it organised in time. Everything’s closing down for Christmas.’

Millie could hear a brass band in the street below playing ‘Hark, the herald angels sing’. She took a deep breath and pushed James’s letter of request back to Nigel.

‘I haven’t signed it,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t think the company can afford to pay out such a bonus when we’re trying to build it up and recover from the war.’

Nigel looked shocked. She could see he hadn’t expected an outright refusal. ‘But there are company profits amounting to thirteen thousand pounds that haven’t been shared out.’

‘Yes, I believe Pete and James agreed not to share out the profits for a year or two, and it has taken time and a lot of hard work to save that. I think we all understand that this building will need a lot spent on repairs as soon as materials are available. Nothing has been done since before the war.’

‘Of course, but surely the bonus could be afforded?’

‘Our machinery is old-fashioned and almost worn out. It would make economic sense to bring the factory up to date, and we are in dire need of a fleet of new delivery vans.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘I think your father and I should both keep our share of the profits in the company to spend in that way. We might even want to expand into new premises if the opportunity comes up. We wouldn’t want shortage of cash to hold us back, would we?’ Nigel was looking desperate. ‘Of course,’ she went on, ‘if you feel your father must be rewarded with a bonus, he could take it out of his own half share of the accrued profit. I’ve discussed it with Mr Douglas. Why don’t you do the same?’

‘Perhaps I will.’

‘But if my share of the profit is reinvested in the business – in new machines for instance – and James’s is withdrawn, then my share of the business increases while his goes down, and I will eventually own the controlling share.’

‘What?’ He looked horrified.

‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?’ Millie smiled. It hadn’t been obvious to her until Mr Douglas had pointed it out. Like Nigel, she’d never given it any thought.

Nigel’s face was flushed and angry. ‘Are you trying to grab control of the company and ease us, the rightful owners, out?’

‘No,’ she said, trying to sound as superior as he did. ‘I’m pointing out the legal position.’ Thank goodness she’d found out the facts first. ‘And also, in the same agreement you mention, the retirement age was fixed at sixty-five and Uncle James does not reach that age for another two years. There is no legal right for him to claim a pension now.’

Millie had never seen Nigel so irate and confused before. ‘Are you telling me you’ll deny him a pension too?’

‘No, Nigel, I am not. I said he has no legal right to claim one from the company for another two years, but I am willing to allow him to draw it immediately. After all, he has been claiming a salary for nearly a decade and doing nothing for it, and the pension is lower so it will be to the company’s advantage.’

Millie realised she was doing what Andrew had advised her not to, she was getting Nigel’s back up.

He was so enraged he couldn’t speak.

‘What I’d like us to do,’ she went on gently, ‘is to concentrate on running the business as efficiently as we can. If we can keep the staff working contentedly, and we all work for the same goal, it will be to our mutual benefit.’

Nigel slammed out, leaving his father’s letter requesting the bonus on her desk. It gave Millie great satisfaction to tear it into small pieces and drop them in her waste-paper basket.

Chapter Twenty

It was Christmas Eve, and Sylvie and the boys hung their stockings round the nursery fireplace as they always had. Once they’d gone to bed, Millie filled them with tangerines and nuts and small novelties that she’d been able to buy.

She was woken up early on Christmas morning by the sound of carols being played on the gramophone outside her room and the boys racing round the house in high good humour. Kenny appeared with a tray of morning tea, followed by Simon dragging a sleepy Sylvie and putting her in the double bed beside her.

They’d hardly had time to pour out their tea before the boys were back with their arms full of Christmas stockings and colourfully wrapped presents. They took turns to empty their stockings and open their gifts, cooing over the contents and spreading them across her eiderdown.

For her part, Millie enjoyed opening and exclaiming over the little gifts her children laid before her. With help from Helen, Sylvie had made her a blouse, Kenny had made homemade chocolate truffles, and Simon had bought her a new address book, of which she was very much in need. What she enjoyed most was seeing her children happy and excited.

When lunchtime drew near, she drove them to Valerie’s house, with the boys singing carols on the back seat. Helen and her family were already there and the succulent scent of roasting turkey filled the house. The festive spirit was much in evidence, though they all talked of Pete and drank a toast to absent friends before they ate their Christmas dinner.

The evening spent at Helen’s house playing games and singing round the piano was equally jolly, though Millie admitted to herself afterwards that without Pete it could never be as much fun as earlier Christmases.

It was the day of James’s retirement ceremony, and the last time he would come to the office. As arranged, at eleven o’clock Millie and all the senior staff collected in the boardroom. There was an uneasy atmosphere, they didn’t know whether to sit at the boardroom table as they usually did, or collect round Nigel’s desk near the big window looking out over the Mersey. He and his father were already there. Coffee and biscuits were being served.

To Millie, it was only too obvious that James was cross, Nigel was agitated and the rest of the staff were growing increasingly on edge. ‘Where is Marcus?’ James kept asking. ‘Where can he have got to? Has anybody seen him?’

He delayed his farewell speech for fifteen minutes. It was an uncomfortable delay and in the end he started before there was any sign of Marcus. By then, James was unable to concentrate on what he was saying, he kept losing the thread and his speech was neither clear nor coherent.

They were all relieved when Nigel suggested they make their way to the Adelphi Hotel. Andrew had already offered Millie a lift and he took Tom Bedford and Albert Lancashire as well on the back seat. When they arrived, they were surprised to find Marcus waiting for them at the front door, looking nervous.

‘There you are,’ Tom Bedford said. ‘There’s been a hue and cry out for you.’

‘I think the plan was for you to join us earlier in the boardroom,’ Millie said mildly.

Nigel and his father were on their heels. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ James demanded as soon as he saw his younger son.

‘Sorry, Pa.’ Marcus seemed to wilt. ‘I was held up.’

‘Held up? Where, for God’s sake? You didn’t sleep at home last night, where have you been? You knew this was a special occasion and you’ve disrupted everything.’

‘Sorry, Pa,’ he said again and scuttled off.

‘Out all night?’ Tom Bedford murmured to Millie. ‘Has he been out on the tiles carousing? He doesn’t look as though he’s had much sleep.’

Millie thought he was right. Marcus looked both nervous and exhausted. His hair was still wet so he’d just had a bath to make himself presentable for this lunch.

‘It’s almost as though he has another job,’ Andrew whispered, ‘and he’s putting more effort into that one than this.’

Millie had to agree, but she couldn’t imagine what could have kept him up all night.

They were shown up to the private room Nigel had booked for them, and James was ushered to his place at the head of the table. Each place setting had a name in a silver holder. Millie found she was to sit next to James; she hadn’t expected this. As a waiter pulled out the chair for her, she heard James say, ‘Nigel, I wanted you on one side and Marcus on the other, that’s only right.’

‘That’s where I put Marcus, Pa.’

Millie could see him pulling out a chair at the other end of the table. She thought he must have switched places with her. It didn’t please her any, but what could he be up to? Perhaps he wanted to put distance between himself and his father. She thought the dining table very smart with its starched damask linen and sparkling glass. It was very elegant but then the Adelphi was reputed to be Liverpool’s best hotel.

‘The food here is said to be as good as it was in the middle of the war years,’ James remarked. Millie wondered if he meant that as a joke, but he was in no mood to make jokes. She’d heard it said that hotel meals everywhere were becoming increasingly frugal as rations were reduced.

She decided she would make an effort to find out what Marcus was up to. She was puzzled and curious, and she could see that James was equally flummoxed. She wasn’t sure what Nigel thought, he was very much in control of himself and didn’t show his feelings. She was afraid the brothers were working on another scheme to get her out of the business. That was the only thing that made sense.

Chapter Twenty-One

Millie was getting on well with Andrew Worthington. He was friendly and she’d never been more in need of a friend. He’d become something of a confidant and she discussed business matters with him and got another viewpoint and good advice. She felt she was getting from him what Marcus and Nigel should have been providing.

Earlier that morning, Millie had been reading a trade paper at her desk when an advertisement caught her eye. A small local soap manufacturer was seeking another company in a similar line of business with a view to merging with them. She went along the corridor to show it to Andrew. ‘We buy some of our raw soap from them, don’t we?’ she asked.

‘We do. They might be a good fit for Maynard’s.’

‘I’ve no ambitions to merge with anyone but I’m wondering if it is the company owned by Elvira’s family. I can’t remember what her name was before she married Marcus.’

‘Could it be Hampton?’

‘It might, I’ll have to ask Marcus. He might be in favour if it is.’

‘He and Nigel have just gone out for lunch.’

‘There’s no hurry for this. Shall we go too?’ He’d asked her if she’d have lunch with him today in Parker’s Refreshment Rooms.

‘Yes, we need to get to Parker’s fairly early or all the best dishes go. It’s the best food in the district.’

Millie had told him that Pete used to take her and Sylvie there regularly, and now he’d agreed she would pay her share, they went more often. As they went in and made their way to an empty table in the window, four diners stood up to leave from a nearby table.

‘Why, hello.’ One clapped Andrew on the shoulder and hovered beside them.

Andrew seemed pleased to see him and said to Millie, ‘This is Jeffrey Willis, a friend I meet here a couple of times a month. We spent a lot of time together in the war. He’s in the regular army.’

‘Millie!’ Willis had put out a hand to greet her, but now he bent to kiss her cheek as well. ‘How are you?’ He was a large rugged-looking man wearing the uniform of the Military Police with three sergeant’s stripes on his arms.

‘Of course,’ Andrew said, ‘you know each other. I should have remembered that you might.’

‘We do.’ Millie smiled. ‘Jeff is a Maynard relative.’

‘On the poor side of the family, a sort of third cousin,’ he grinned, ‘but Pete and I were good friends. I miss him, Millie.’

‘I do too.’ She wished she could say that more easily without having to fight off tears. ‘You were Pete’s favourite cousin.’

As they pulled out the chairs to sit down, Willis did too and went on, ‘I thought at first my old mate Andrew had found himself a girlfriend.’

‘Millie is my boss,’ he protested awkwardly.

‘I take it he’s making the grade with you?’ Jeff asked.

‘Why yes.’ Millie wondered what he meant by ‘making the grade’ and said, ‘He’s doing a good job for us.’ She knew a flush was running up her cheeks.

‘When Pete said his accountant was retiring and that he needed to find a new one,’ Jeff said, ‘I recommended Andrew.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ he retorted. ‘When I was demobbed you threw me an advert torn from a newspaper and said I should apply.’

‘Well, I couldn’t guarantee Pete would take you on, could I?’ he said. ‘But I knew you both and thought you’d suit each other. And you needed to settle down in civilian life, didn’t you?’

It was obvious that they’d forged a strong bond of friendship and trust during the war years. They began to talk about war surplus goods. She’d read an article in the newspaper this morning about the government being defrauded of much of the value.

‘Does your work involve searching out fraudsters like that?’ she wanted to know.

‘No, worse luck,’ Willis said, ‘my job isn’t nearly so interesting. I bring in the squaddies who get drunk and start fighting in pubs. Or it’s petty crime, or car stealing.’ He stood up. ‘Right, it’s back to the coal face for me. I’ll see you next week, Andrew.’ He smiled at Millie. ‘Glad to see you looking better and I hope things continue to pick up for you. By the way, I recommend the rabbit stew. It was excellent today.’

Millie had hoped Sylvie was settling down at last. Andrew had assured her yet again that her daughter’s behaviour was perfectly normal and her work well up to standard. Denis had taken her dancing on two consecutive Saturday nights and she’d come home in a happier frame of mind. But that evening she had a real flare-up at Kenny.

After supper had been cleared away, Millie was watching Kenny set up his train set on the nursery floor while Simon unearthed scenery and additional carriages from a collection of old boxes. Spread out everywhere were engines, rolling stock and station buildings once owned by their forebears, some of which were damaged or broken. It was Simon who asked Sylvie to help them set out the scenery round the track.

Millie liked to see them all playing together and it pleased her when Sylvie got down on the floor to join in, but she was more interested in the rolling stock than the scenery. She tried for some time to link up a long line of old coal trucks and cattle trucks to a newer engine.

‘That won’t work,’ Kenny told her.

‘It will, I’ve done it. It’s a much longer train than yours.’

She set the engine to run and in less than two yards it had uncoupled from the trucks and went chugging away on its own. Kenny laughed and clapped his hands. ‘I told you it wouldn’t work,’ he chortled.

Sylvie tried again. ‘It’s just a question of linking it on.’

‘It won’t,’ he said. ‘They’re made by different makers. The coupling doesn’t quite match.’

Sylvie leapt to her feet, kicking over the station in her haste. ‘It’s just old rubbish. I don’t know why I waste my time doing this,’ and ran upstairs in a storm of tears.

Kenny looked up at his mother in alarm. ‘What have I said? What’s the matter with her?’

‘It’s not you, love.’ Millie put down her book and followed Sylvie upstairs to try and comfort her. She could see that her daughter was far from being back to normal, whatever others might tell her.

At work the next day, it occurred to Millie in the middle of doing a routine job in the lab that instead of waiting for Nigel and Marcus to think up another plan to do her down, there was no reason why she shouldn’t go on the attack, get them on the run for a change. She picked up the internal phone and asked Andrew what he planned to do at lunchtime.

‘Nothing special, I’ve brought my usual sandwich to eat here.’

‘I need more of your advice,’ she said. ‘I’d like to join you.’

‘I’ll be very pleased to have your company,’ he told her, ‘but I hope you’re not looking at trouble again.’

‘Not exactly, it’s different this time.’

When she went along to his office at half twelve, he’d arranged for a pot of tea to be brought up for them. ‘Has Marcus had another swipe at you?’ he asked.

‘No, but I think he and Nigel must be working on something. Marcus is always going out, but what does he find to do? They must be up to something. It’s like a weight hanging over my head, and I’ve heard attack is the best form of defence. What can I do to worry them?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘You understand the legal set-up of companies and the money side better than I do, what can I do to upset them in the way they do me?’

‘Ah, you want to go on the offensive. You can offer to buy them out.’

Millie laughed. ‘I don’t have that sort of money.’

‘But they won’t know that, will they?’

‘They might, Alec Douglas could have told them what happened over Pete’s will.’

‘He won’t have. Although Douglas acts for the company and James discusses company affairs with them, matters relating to Pete’s will are strictly private between you and him.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes, that would be professional practice. Though now the will is settled anybody can read it in Somerset House, but that won’t tell them what transpired between you and the solicitor handling it.’

Millie thought it was all very complicated. ‘What else could I do?’

‘You could merge with another similar company. We were talking about it the other day, weren’t we? You saw an advert from a small soap manufacturer wanting to do that.’

‘Yes, it’s still on my desk.’

‘If you did that, it would give you a smaller share in a bigger business, and as it would dilute management it could make things easier for you.’

Millie smiled. ‘I could discuss that with them.’

‘It’s not a bad idea. To double the size of the firm brings an advantage in scale.’

‘It would bring new managers, wouldn’t it? What if I can’t get on with them?’

‘You would. Or you could set up on your own. You have the experience to do that.’

‘That would take even more money. Heavens, Andrew, I’d never have the nerve. Think of all the things that could go wrong for me.’

‘Most of the staff would follow you. It would leave your in-laws without experienced staff, working in an old building that needs maintenance, and using outdated machinery and equipment. That could be a recipe for disaster.’ He laughed. ‘You’d survive longer than them, and once they went under you’d pick up their trade. You might make your fortune that way.’

‘And pigs might fly. What would you recommend I do?’

‘Seriously?’ He pulled a face. ‘I don’t think I’d recommend any of those things. I was just outlining the possibilities. Stay as you are, and continue to push production as hard as you can.’

Millie felt disappointed. ‘Perhaps I’ll just threaten, and not do anything.’

‘Millie, can’t you see that that will get their backs up just as much? Don’t do anything like that. You should try to get on better terms with them or at the very least lie low for a while and wait and see what happens. Perhaps they’ll give up sniping at you.’

Millie tried to take his advice. She had a long discussion with Nigel about the importance of increasing production, and he seemed to take it on board and said he would do his best. It didn’t quieten her fears.

Sylvie and her friends often went out for a walk at lunchtime and ate their sandwiches at the Pier Head but it was a cold, grey January day with a heavy dark sky and they decided to eat round their desks in the typing pool. They were chatting about boyfriends when Sylvie told them Denis had invited her to meet his family and spend the evening at his home, Connie said, ‘For a boyfriend to invite you to meet his mother means he’s serious.’

‘Denis is always serious.’

‘Serious about you, you nut,’ they chorused. ‘He must love you.’

‘Denis? He’s just a friend.’

‘Well, I wish he’d be my friend,’ Connie said and they all laughed. ‘You said he’d asked if you’d be his girlfriend, that’s not just being a friend. Doesn’t he kiss you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well then, don’t you like being taken out by a boyfriend?’

‘Yes, of course I do.’ Sylvie enjoyed going out with him but hadn’t thought any further ahead.

‘Don’t you want to get married?’

She did, of course she did, but she was in no hurry. ‘I’ll wait until somebody really romantic comes along before I go that far,’ she said. ‘It’ll have to be somebody special.’

‘Denis is special,’ Connie told her. ‘He’s lovely. And he’s made up his mind about you, hasn’t he?’

‘He is good-looking,’ another girl said.

‘Handsome,’ she was corrected. ‘He’s well thought of here, he’ll go far. Good husband material and I bet he can be romantic.’

‘My mother’s always singing his praises,’ Sylvie sighed, ‘but that’s a bit off-putting, isn’t it?’

‘No, don’t be daft,’ they chorused. ‘Your problems start if your parents don’t like your boyfriend.’

Having learned that her friends approved of Denis, Sylvie started to look at him in a different light. Perhaps, as Connie had said, she didn’t know a good thing when it was staring her in the face.

Millie was pleased to see Sylvie taking a real interest in dressmaking, she always seemed to be sewing some garment these days.

‘Mum, I’d love to have a sewing machine,’ she said, ‘for my birthday if not before. I’m desperately in need of one. I’d be able to get my dresses finished in half the time.’

The best Millie could do in these times of shortage was to take her to the sewing room and show her the one that had been in the house for decades.

‘That must have come out of the ark,’ Sylvie said. ‘It’s too old-fashioned. I can’t work that treadle. I’d like a new hand sewing machine like Helen’s.’

Simon laughed at her. ‘There’s nothing the matter with this one,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you how it works.’

‘I could show you how it works too,’ Kenny piped up. ‘I’ve had a go.’ He fetched his toy boats to show her. ‘This schooner was Grandpa’s and half the sails were missing and I wanted red sails on this yacht so we made all these on that machine.’

Simon said, ‘Give me those two bits of your cloth.’ He sat down at the machine and stitched them together in a moment. His stitching was neat and even. ‘If we can make sails for boats on it, you’ll have no trouble making dresses.’

Sylvie looked embarrassed to hear her young brothers say that. Millie blessed them for doing it but said, ‘It’s cold in here. Why don’t we lift it into the playroom where Sylvie can use it in comfort?’ Her children used the playroom quite a lot and there was a gas fire there.

Helen was Sylvie’s mentor when it came to dressmaking, and they often spent time together sewing on Saturday afternoons. Denis was collecting her regularly from Helen’s house to take her out on Saturday evenings.

Millie was pleased to see that at last her affair with Denis was blossoming and thought Sylvie’s new contentment was mainly due to that. She could put Pete’s accident out of her mind now she had other things in her life.

Marcus had done what Elvira had pressed him to do some time ago; he had rejoined the ring. Greg had welcomed him back with a good lunch and he’d met up with the ring in Leeds, Sheffield and Warrington and put in bids as instructed in rigged auctions. He’d ferried vehicles from one town to another and he’d been glad to have the money that it had generated. But today he’d met Greg at an auction in Manchester and he’d really put the fear of God into him.

‘This afternoon, I want you to do something different,’ he said. ‘I’m going to drive you to a building estate where workmen are erecting prefabs. A lorry is due to deliver a load of white goods, refrigerators and cookers, that sort of thing. I want you to wait for it and stay out of sight of the workmen.’ Marcus was primed with the make of the lorry and given several ignition keys and maps. ‘The job is to drive it away from the site before it can be unloaded and take it to a warehouse in Leeds.’