Angels at War (8 page)

‘What’s come over you? You are as much to blame for this as Harry. What are you thinking of, Jack, to be falling about in a drunken brawl in the street?’

He shrugged, ‘Mebbe I’m sick of trying to put things right and not succeeding. Happen I’ve given up hope.’

Livia struggled to sit up, blinking away the
tears that had come into her eyes at the sting of pain as he dabbed at her wounds with the iodine. ‘You can’t give up. Where’s the sense in that?’

‘It’s the bosses what have the power. What can we poor workers do? Nowt!’

‘That’s not what you said when you were battling with Josiah to keep the rents down.’

‘Aye, and a boy got injured and he put the flippin’ rents up anyway, so what did I achieve? Like I say, nowt!’

‘That’s not true. We won in the end.’

‘Did we?’

Livia fell silent. In truth, nobody had won. Not the landlords, nor the tenants. And the properties previously owned by her father had been bought out by a consortium of businessmen at a knock-down price, considered to be virtually worthless. The entire area was due for demolition before too long. Not before time, in Livia’s opinion. Perhaps this was the moment she’d been seeking to say her piece.

‘It’s this place that’s getting you down. We need to get out of Fellside. As a matter of fact, I again cycled round some of the yards this afternoon, and spoke to a landlord who showed me a pretty little cottage which we could afford, now that I’m bringing money in too. What do you think, Jack, should we take it?’

He pulled away from her, incredulity in his
eyes. ‘You don’t really need me at all, do you? You could manage much better without me.’

Livia flung her arms about his neck, kissing him with great fervour. ‘Of course I couldn’t, I love you. I can’t even begin to imagine life without you. But I see no harm in my working. Your mam always did.’

‘Mam had to work, me da were dead and she had nine childer to feed.’

‘All right, but plenty of women work these days. We have needs too, and rights, beyond producing children.’

He groaned. ‘Oh, don’t start on that hobby horse, not right now. I’m hungry. What’s for tea?’

Livia laughed and pulled him back into her arms. ‘I’ve bought us a bit of ham to celebrate my new job, but it can wait a moment. I’m hungry myself, but not for food,’ and as she began to kiss him he became her Jack again, loving and caring. Wanting her. Needing her.

It was another hour or more before they finally sat down to eat, and as they ate Livia pressed how important it was for them to go ahead with the move. ‘I’ll look into it further, shall I, first chance I get?’ She took his silence for agreement. Then they went back to bed and forgot all about everything but having this precious time together. 

Far too soon Livia heard the musical chimes of the Town Hall clock striking nine o’clock, and reluctantly began to stir from where she was warmly curled beside him. ‘I have to go.’

Jack was not happy and held her down in the bed, refusing to let her leave.

Livia laughed up at him, loving him, wanting him too. ‘I’m sorry, love, but I have to be back at the store in my own bed by ten. Don’t worry, it’s only temporary. I’ll soon be home for good.’

He ravaged her mouth with a long kiss, holding her face with one hand while the other caressed her naked breasts. ‘You’re the one in charge, not the flippin’ manager. It shouldn’t be necessary for you to bunk down with them shop girls.’

‘I don’t mind, really, and I’m learning so much.’

‘What about me, don’t my needs count?’ He slipped a hand between her thighs, making her squeal.

‘What are you doing, Jack? Stop it!’ The image of Miss Caraway waiting at the door of the staff dormitory, eyes on her fob watch, came to mind and Livia started wriggling, desperate to break free. ‘Let me go, you wicked man, I must get dressed. It would be instant dismissal if I were late.’

‘Good!’

‘It wouldn’t be good at all, apart from the responsibilities I owe towards the staff, we need the money.’

‘I can afford to keep a wife now. Do you reckon anyone would have me?’

‘Don’t start, I really don’t have time for all of that right now.’

‘So when will you have time?’

Livia was out of bed, reaching for her corset and drawers, her skirt and blouse, while doing her utmost to pacify him. ‘Please don’t be like this, love. It’s going to be fine. Once we have a cottage of our own I’ll persuade Grayson to let me live out. I’ll have proved my point by then.’

‘You shouldn’t need to prove a point when you—’

She gently shushed him. ‘Jack, please, it’ll be all right, I promise. Just give me one more week, two at most, and you’ll have me in bed with you every night.’

‘As my wife?’

‘We’ll talk about that later. I really don’t have time now, love, honest.’

It was only as she was halfway out the door, hurriedly dragging on her coat against a cold October night, that she remembered Grayson’s invitation. ‘Oh, I almost forgot, you’ll get the chance to meet the new manager yourself on Sunday.’ She smiled brightly up at him, as
if taking it for granted that he’d be pleased, even as something inside her trembled with unexpected nerves over his possible reaction to the news.

Jack stared at her. ‘This Grayson chap, you mean?’

‘He’s invited us both to lunch. He wants to talk about future plans for the business.’

‘You mean he wants to talk to you.’

‘Well, yes, but that’s exactly what we need to be doing, discussing plans for the store.’

‘Then why do you need to drag me along?’

‘Because you’re my fiancé, and you’ll be able to offer your support.’

‘For what?’

She stifled a sigh. ‘For any ideas I might have. I don’t know, but you’ve been invited and it would be good to have you there.’

‘Sundays are one of the few days we have together.’

‘I know, love, but there’s precious little opportunity for long discussions when the store is open and we’re both busy working.’

‘So I’m supposed to hang around, am I, while you two talk business?’

She kissed him, her eyes pleading. ‘I’d be much more comfortable if you were. I need you, Jack love, and it’s important we present a united front. Grayson lives in Windermere, so I thought
we could take the omnibus. Best bib and tucker, but it should be interesting, don’t you think?’

‘I can’t wait,’ he drawled, and there was something in his expression that gave Livia cause for concern. Maybe this lunch wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

Ella reached the river that chuckled noisily down through the dale, crossing it on the well-worn slate slabs and taking care not to slip and get her feet wet. The view of the mountains all around, with their rocky outcrops and straggly pine trees leaning into the wind, was spectacular. Today, as always, she stopped to rest against a boulder, taking a moment to appreciate their beauty. There was the darkly brooding Rainsborrow Crag, and beyond it Yoke, Ill Bell and Froswick looming out of the mist. Close by was a stand of Scots Pine, and a pile of slate waste left over from the days of quarrying in which a family of vole had now made a home.

There had been a time when Ella had hated Kentmere, when the profound silence of this
enclosed dale had unnerved her. She had hated the farm, her life and her husband with equal measure. She’d thought him a dry-as-dust country bumpkin, clumsy and stupid, with only his Bible for company. And at first perhaps he was exactly that, still striving to please a Puritan wife long dead.

Visitors to the farm were rare, and neighbours few and far between in this remote region. Should anyone, a walker or a carter go by, she’d rush out to speak to them simply for the joy of their company. Ella would gaze out of her kitchen window following with her mind’s eye the winding road that ran through the valley towards the nearby village of Staveley and on to Kendal. She’d longed to go home, to see her sisters and old friends and be part of the hustle and bustle of town life again.

But things were very different now. Little by little Ella had discovered her husband’s hidden strengths. She’d come across him once bathing in this very river, seeing him for the first time in all his manly glory. In his turn Amos had learnt to trust his new wife and not try to control her every move. Now she’d come full circle and loved them all – the farm, the land, and her man – with a passion.

Nothing and no one could ever change that, certainly not a foolish resentful girl with a chip on her shoulder.

This morning, Ella had driven herself to the village in the trap to see the doctor. But she’d needed to stop and catch her breath, to sit alone by the river to savour the news he’d given her, to walk a little, gaze at the mountains and think. She would have liked to discuss her problems with dearest Livia, as always, and made a mental note to drive into Kendal and speak to her as soon as possible. For now, she climbed back into the trap, picked up the reins, and with a smile curling her pretty mouth, set off to call upon her dearest friend.

Ella had first met Wilma Jepson on a visit to the little church at the entrance to the dale, when she’d introduced herself as the neighbour who sold the farm’s eggs for them on Kendal market.

‘So this is your new mother?’ she’d said to the children, cooing delightedly at Tilda, who had been too shy to reply. Seven-year-old Emmet had kicked stones along the church path, glowering ferociously, making it very plain that he had no wish to talk about his stepmother, thank you very much. The boy had still been grieving and paid no heed to Ella in those days.

‘We have to be going now, Mrs Jepson,’ the older girl, Mary, had said, gathering the children close. ‘Mrs Rackett will have us dinners ready, and we dursn’t be late.’

‘Oh, indeed, no, you mustn’t,’ the good lady had agreed.

Ella remembered being delighted to meet her, hopeful of finding a friend, but before she’d even opened her mouth to say as much, Amos had appeared out of nowhere to hurry them away. Undeterred, Mrs Jepson had set off after them, panting a little as she’d rushed along the path in Ella’s wake. ‘I shall call upon you, my dear, if I may. Perhaps one morning next week?’

Amos had rather brusquely dismissed her offer. ‘We’ll let you know when my wife is ready to receive visitors. She needs to be allowed time to settle in.’

Mrs Jepson had kept her distance for months, which had been most disappointing for Ella, making her feel lonelier than ever. Now, of course, she was a much-valued friend, and they made a point of meeting up every Thursday, as they were doing now, simply for the pleasure of each other’s company.

‘Would you care for another scone? I made them specially.’

‘They are absolutely delicious, Wilma, but I swear I shall burst if I eat another crumb.’

‘You’re looking very well,’ her friend told her, adding rather coyly, ‘You aren’t … you know? I had hoped that efforts were being made in that direction.’

Ella flushed bright scarlet.

‘You are, I knew it. I can always tell. There’s a certain fullness about the face, a light in the eyes. Oh, Ella, I’m so thrilled.’ Quickly setting down her cup, she went to give her friend a warm hug. ‘What does Amos say?’

‘I haven’t told him yet.’

‘Oh, but you must.’

Ella laughed. ‘I’ve only just had it confirmed this very afternoon by the doctor. I shall tell him the moment I have him to myself.’

Refilling the two china cups by way of celebration, Wilma Jepson looked thoughtful. ‘Are things any better between you and Mercy?’

Ella pulled her face and told her friend about the fight. ‘It was so undignified. I can’t ever remember such a thing happening to me in my life before. I thought it was only in the worst slums that women fell to fighting each other, not in tranquil Kentmere.’

The older woman looked at her friend quite seriously. ‘That’s where the poor girl comes from: the slums. Of course, the worst of Fellside ought to be demolished, and will be before too long if Kendal has any consideration for its residents. But you’ll have to make allowances for this new sister of yours until she learns to be a little more – shall we say, civilised – and gets over these long-held grievances. It will
take time, as she’s carrying a lot of baggage.’

‘I know, and I do feel desperately sorry for her, for the sad life she’s had to endure, and the scar of insecurity those years have left upon her. But she is idle and deliberately ignores every order I give her, as I have told you.’

‘Be firm but kind, my dear. Present her with a list of chores each morning, in the order they must be done, and leave her to it.’

‘I’m willing to try anything, but how to soften this fierce resentment she nurses against the entire Angel family, that’s my biggest concern. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since the fight but there are times I think she carries the same thread of evil as our father, although less violent and destructive. She is truly the devil’s spawn.’

Wilma Jepson was shocked. ‘Oh, do not say such a thing, the girl is so young. And on no account allow yourself to worry, or become embroiled in her childish tantrums. You have the baby to think of now.’

Ella smiled, feeling a stir of excitement at the prospect of the new life forming inside her, knowing Amos would be equally thrilled. ‘Perhaps I am sometimes a bit hard on her,’ she conceded. ‘Particularly when Mercy is at her most obstinate and I’m tired out. But it really is time the silly girl put the past behind her and
faced the future, although hopefully not on the arm of my husband.’

The older woman chuckled. ‘No fear of that. Amos has eyes for no one but his lovely wife. Do have another scone, dear. You are eating for two now, don’t forget, and they’re quite small.’

Laughing, Ella succumbed. She knew in her heart that her friend was right. There was no danger of Amos ever glancing in Mercy’s direction, and certainly not now. ‘I will take your advice, Wilma, particularly with regard to the list of chores, I promise.’

Later, when she told Amos her news, saying how she could hardly believe their good fortune, that her dream was about to come true and she was to have a child of her own, he smiled into her eyes and kissed her.

‘And if she is half as beautiful as you, my lovely wife, I shall be the happiest man on earth.’

‘Don’t you want a son?’ she teased.

‘Next time,’ he said. ‘Should we tell the children?’

Ella thought for a moment, then shook her head. ‘I’d rather wait until I’m certain all is well.’

‘Then it shall be our little secret, for now,’ he agreed, kissing her some more.

No, she had absolutely nothing at all to fear from that silly resentful half-sister of hers.

As someone who loved to walk for miles over the fells, climb mountains, and cycle across country, Livia had always imagined herself to be reasonably fit. Yet with every moment of her day filled with answering customers’ queries, searching the myriad tiny drawers behind the counter, or fetching and carrying boxes from the stock room, let alone discreetly standing by while Mrs Dee demonstrated the art of measuring for a corset, she soon began to feel the dire effects of shop work. The calves of her legs ached, her feet throbbed, and each evening after supper, the very first thing she did was to soak them in a mustard bath, as did many of the other girls. They would sit in a line, gossiping and joking, Livia doing her utmost to be a part of the group.

Her tiredness was a salutary reminder that she wasn’t here simply to have fun, tease old Caraway, or play at being a shop girl. It was vitally important that she learn all she could and build herself a career and a good future for the business.

If only Jack understood that. He seemed to want from her only what she couldn’t give. Why was he in such a hurry to start a family and turn her into a house frau? Livia wasn’t yet ready to give up her dreams just to start breeding. She was enjoying her new job too much. She was even allowed to serve customers now, under the
careful supervision of Mrs Dee, although only the younger matrons. Mrs Dee herself always took care of the older ladies, and the more esteemed customers.

On two occasions recently Livia had been allowed to visit a customer in her own home in order to take measurements in private and facilitate an order. She took this as a marked sign of approval at her progress. A carriage was kept on hand specifically for this purpose so that an assistant could be dispatched at a moment’s notice to a customer’s house, whether for the ordering of a new gown or a coffin. Angel’s Department Store proudly proclaimed they could take care of a customer from cradle to grave, through this life and the next.

In Livia’s view, the cost of keeping such a carriage and pair was excessive. Her father had taken advantage of it for his own private use until he’d bought his new automobile, a Mercedes Benz, an even greater extravagance. The motor had now been sold to pay off some of the debts. Matthew Grayson drove a sensible Ford, and Livia applauded his economy.

But were home visits a good idea? she wondered. Surely the money could be much better spent. Livia voiced this firmly held opinion to Mrs Dee one lunchtime as the good lady was putting on her coat and hat
preparatory to visiting one of her special clients.

She looked quite shocked at the idea. ‘Get rid of the carriage? I sincerely hope not! I fear it would be a bad mistake not to offer this service to customers. Some people greatly appreciate the privacy of being attended to in their own homes.’

Livia gently persisted, determined not to allow outmoded attitudes to alter her opinion that changes must be made. ‘But how can we tempt the customer to spend more if they never visit the shop and view the delights within?’

‘Good gracious, what a notion! We crave their approbation as much as their money. Good service is essential.’

Despite the pressures on her, Livia’s mind never stopped thinking up improvements she would like to make, and she looked forward to discussing these ideas with Grayson. She thought it might be sensible to keep the store open during the lunch hour by staggering the time the staff took off to eat. This would allow office and factory workers the opportunity to visit the shop. They’d need to tempt the staff to agree by offering them better food, of course, and no doubt some would oppose any new ideas, in particular Miss Caraway.

‘Surely a trap and one mare would serve just as well? Those two great Clevelands spend most of their time in the stables eating their heads off,
while customers in the store don’t even have the facility of a lavatory. This shop is old-fashioned. We need to dispose of outdated stock, improve the dusty over-crowded window displays, not to mention the appalling living conditions for the staff. Don’t you think Mr Grayson would be better advised to dispose of the carriage, which is used less and less, and spend the money on improving the store?’

Mrs Dee regarded her assistant with stern disapproval. ‘A shop, dear Livia, is far more than mere fittings and stock. It should have a heart, a policy which proves that it cares for its customers. Mr Grayson is coping as best he can, but it can’t be easy on top of all his other business interests. I’m sure it’s not my place to criticise, nor yours either, if I may say so. While I am gone, I would like you, dear girl, to make an inventory. Count the number of dress shields we have in stock, if you please, listing types and colours, then move on to the ribbons. Can you do that for me?’

Mrs Dee had her own special way of putting Livia very firmly in her place.