Calico Road (14 page)

‘All right. We’ll go to Rochdale.’

But she wept against him in bed that night and it took Ben a long time to comfort her. How could a mother hate her own child like hers did? she asked.

He couldn’t answer, only cuddle her against him and shush her.

The following week they left Northby. It was sad saying goodbye to Jack and her brothers and sister, but Meg had never been away from her birthplace before and all she saw was so wondrously new to her that she soon cheered up. She couldn’t help exclaiming and pointing, asking questions one after the other as the carrier’s cart jolted along a rough moorland track, then down into Rochdale itself.

Ben’s friend had even found them a house to rent, only a one-up, one-down house in a terrace that stood back-to-back with another terrace of similar dwellings, but after their previous one room in someone else’s house, it seemed more than enough. And to have a proper cooking fire of her own was bliss to Meg, who had found that she enjoyed cooking and could produce far nicer meals than her mother ever had.

Once they had arranged their few pieces of furniture, however, she wished they had more because the rooms looked so bare.

‘I’m off to meet my new employers now,’ Ben said.

When he’d left she decided to go out and explore the town. It was far bigger than Northby, so she stayed near the centre, where the streets sloped down to a river. That helped her get her bearings. She didn’t want to get lost.

It seemed strange to see so many people walking about and know none of them. As she strolled she found fine buildings alternating with areas that had narrow alleys and shabby houses crammed one against the other.

Surely in such a big place she could find herself a job of some sort? Ben might be bringing in enough money to support her, but they didn’t have children yet. It would be foolish to sit at home when she could be earning.

She got back before him and made herself a cup of tea with some carefully hoarded tealeaves that had only been used once, sipping the warm liquid with pleasure. She kept jerking round every time someone walked past the window, but it wasn’t her husband. What was he doing? Why was he staying out so late when he hadn’t even started work yet? She began to feel neglected and a bit worried. What if he’d been hurt? People wouldn’t know who he was or how to find her. It was after dark when he did come home, by which time she was feeling aggrieved.

‘Why haven’t you lit the candle?’ Ben demanded. ‘We can afford a light of an evening. And it’s cold in here. Why’ve you let the fire burn so low?’ He went across to the hearth and poked up the coals so that the flames rose higher.

‘There was no need for lights or a fire. I wasn’t doing anything, just sitting here waiting for you. And don’t waste that coal. We’ve only got a few pieces till we can order some in.’

He straightened up and put the poker down. ‘Where do you think I’ve been? Looking round the brewery and talking to Mr Brooks and the other fellows I’ll be working with. I couldn’t get back any sooner, love. Don’t I even get a hug?’

Suddenly it seemed silly to sulk so she ran across the room to him and put up her face for his kiss. But his breath smelled of beer and she jerked her head back, pushing him away with both her hands on his chest. ‘You’ve been drinking!’

‘Just a couple of pots.’

‘You promised me you wouldn’t drink again, Ben, promised faithfully!’

‘Mr Brooks gives everyone a drink or two at the end of the day. There’s no harm in just a couple.’ He caught hold of her and pulled her back into his arms. ‘Stop that, Meg! It’s my living now, beer is, an’ think how bad it’d look if I refused to sup with the other fellows.’

She sagged against him. ‘Oh, Ben, I don’t like you drinking. Dad got loud and noisy when he drank and I’ve seen you myself staggering along the street when you used to drink too much.’

‘Well, you won’t see me in that condition again. I’m a sober married man now. But I’m not giving up my entitlements. It’s good beer and I shall enjoy a couple of pots after a hard day’s work – free ones, too.’

Nothing she said would change his mind on this and they had a short, sharp quarrel, something that was rare for them. But after they’d sat in silence for a while, one on either side of the table, fiddling with the bread and cheese which neither of them had any appetite for, he said, ‘Don’t let’s fratch over this, love. I promise you I won’t get into drunken habits again.’

And Meg was more than ready to make it up.

That night when they’d made love, she lay on the scratchy straw mattress which was all they owned, unable to sleep for worrying. She knew, she just knew somehow, that beer wasn’t good for her Ben. It turned him into another person entirely. Even tonight he’d spoken more sharply to her than usual and they’d quarrelled. Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, leaving cold trails behind them, but she could see no way to stop him working at the brewery. You had to earn money if you wanted to eat, especially when you were in a strange town where you knew no one.

The following morning Ben went to work before dawn, because it was part of his job to feed the horses and clean out their stables before the working day began. As soon as it grew light Meg went out looking for work. She found her way to two mills, but the gatekeepers said they weren’t taking anyone on because work was short, so she went searching elsewhere. There must be some way to earn money, even if it was only by scrubbing floors. Two wages made a big difference when you were trying to set up a home and she hadn’t fallen for a baby yet, to her secret relief.

It came on to rain while she was near the top of the hill, so she ran to take shelter in the porch of St Chad’s church, which looked down upon the river and the town centre. She shivered, feeling cold now and wishing they’d stayed in Northby. But after a minute or two she told herself not to be silly. She’d escaped from her mother, hadn’t she? That was the main thing. She’d soon get to know a few people. And she’d find work as well, of course she would.

She found it on the third day of her search, a curious sort of job to one who had only ever worked in a mill. She called in at a pawn shop, thinking the owner might know where there was work going. The woman behind the counter was massive, hard-faced, and stared at Meg so closely she began to wonder if she’d got muck on her face or something.

‘I might know something for a lass as is prepared to turn her hand to anything.’

‘Oh, I am! I’d be that grateful for a hint or two.’

The woman relaxed and leaned on the counter. ‘It’s more than a hint. I decided last night that I need some help here. I want someone as’ll do owt that’s needed: cleaning the house, cooking, shopping, and later, when she knows the trade better, serving customers. Think you can do that?’

‘Oh, yes! Please give me a try. I’m a hard worker, I promise you.’

‘If you’re not, you’ll be out on your ear. I work hard mysen an’ I’ll expect you to do the same. All right, you may as well start now. Come through.’ She held up a flap in the counter and Meg followed her into the back room. ‘I want this place cleaned up and the floor scrubbed – properly, mind – then you can come and help me clear up the shop. Ten bob a week to start off an’ midday meals found. I’m Peggy Clarke, by the way.’

Meg nodded. ‘Meg Pearson. Pleased to meet you.’ She couldn’t keep her eyes off the big metal contraption that was standing there instead of a fireplace.

Peggy smiled. ‘I see you’ve noticed my stove.’ She rapped on its black metal side. ‘This is the boiler, so any time you need hot water, just turn this tap. Well, as long as the fire’s lit an’ you’ve kept the tank full, there’s hot water. You fill it here.’ Another rap of her fist. ‘Now
there’s
progress for you.’ She also explained about the oven and cooking hob and Meg watched in fascination as Peggy enthusiastically demonstrated its features.

Afterwards Meg set to, scrubbing the floor with a will. She was aware of her new employer peering through the doorway from time to time but didn’t say anything, just carried on working.

When she’d finished Peggy came in, her eyes hard and assessing, then nodded. ‘Well, you know how to scrub, any road, an’ you don’t miss out the corners. Now, afore you start cleaning the shop, I need some things from the market or I’ll have nowt to eat tonight.’

‘Would you mind if I bought a couple of things for me an’ Ben while I’m there?’ Meg asked nervously. ‘It’ll not take me a minute, only I didn’t know I was starting work today, so I’ve got nothing in.’

‘As long as you’re quick about it. If that husband of yours is as bad as mine was, he’ll be demanding food on the table the minute he gets through the door, an’ thumping you if it’s not ready.’

Meg smiled. ‘Ben’s allus hungry when he gets back but he’s never laid a finger on me.’

‘If he ever does, hit him straight back, that’s my advice to you.’ Peggy spoke in the voice of experience. ‘If you once let ’em start, they never let up on you. I fought back, but mine was a big sod an’ he allus got the better of me in the end, though I reckon he’d have been worse if I hadn’t stood up to him. I were glad when he died. I never wept a tear for him, not a one. An’ I do better nor he ever did with this shop.’ She stared into the distance for a minute then jerked into action again, arms waving, finger pointing. ‘Right then, we can’t stand gossiping all day. Go and get that shopping, then we’ll make a start on cleaning up the shop.’

When Meg finished work at eight o’clock she rushed home, tired but triumphant, knowing she’d only just get there before Ben. She’d started cooking their tea when he came through the door, again smelling of beer. But his speech wasn’t slurred and he was steady on his feet, so maybe he would be all right with just a drink or two. She prayed he would.

‘I got mysen a job today,’ she announced, beaming at him.

‘An’ does that stop you from giving me a hug?’ he demanded, pretending to be vexed.

‘I can’t put this frying pan down now, it’s red hot.’ When she’d finished she set it down on the pair of bricks she’d stood on the table and gave him a hug. They ate the ham with thick slices of bread cut from a loaf also bought at the market, sopping up the grease and murmuring with pleasure at the taste. In between bites she told him about Peggy and the shop, explaining that she’d have to work late on Fridays and Saturdays.

‘Eh, you’re a clever lass. I’m proud of you.’

‘We’ll be able to buy some more things for the house now an’ get some savings behind us for a rainy day.’ Meg was eager to make it a proper home because she couldn’t get her mother’s scornful remarks out of her mind. And she never wanted to be without a shilling or two extra put by; never wanted to be like the women who came to the pawn shop, haggard and desperate to feed their children.

‘There’s only one thing I need in my house,’ Ben said, his voice going husky and his gaze leaving her in no doubt of his desire for her, ‘and that’s you, Meg lass.’

She fell asleep with a smile on her face that night. It was so wonderful to be wanted like that, to be loved and appreciated. And she was earning again. What more could she want?

The next day Peggy showed her new employee the little parlour at the side of the kitchen. It was clearly her pride and joy and had real velvet curtains with net ones as well to prevent people from looking in as they walked along the pavement outside. ‘I sit here of an evening – when I’ve time, that is. And I’m in here on Sundays, of course. I paid for every stick of furniture, every ornament, mysen.
He
would have drunk the money. You’re to dust in here every day an’ clear out the grate when I’ve had a fire lit. An’ don’t you go breaking owt or I’ll take the cost from your wages. I’m not runnin’ a charity here.’

Meg looked round in amazement. ‘It’s a palace,’ she said, her voice hushed. ‘I’ve never seen anywhere like it. Oh, Peggy, it’s lovely.’

Two days later a drunken man came into the shop and asked to redeem the things his wife had pawned the previous Monday. When Peggy got out the bundle of clothing, he snatched at it and tried to run out without paying, but she’d seen that trick before and kept hold of the knot at the top of the bundle. Jerking it away from him, she surged out from behind the counter, massive and fearsome in her rage.

The man backed away, stammering something.

Peggy snatched up the stout stick she kept handy and set about him with it, driving him yelping out of the shop and down the street. ‘I’ll teach you to steal from a woman as works hard while you’re out swilling ale!’ she roared, and the stick thwacked down on his back again.

She then returned to her doorstep, still yelling insults after him. Once he’d rounded the corner she came inside again and picked up the things that’d dropped out of the bundle. ‘Rotten thieving sod. This stuff’s not worth much, I only took it to do his wife a favour, because the poor bitch had no food in the house.’

‘Are you all right?’ Meg gasped, still upset by the scene.

‘’Course I am. I’ve never yet had a man come through that door as I couldn’t best, except for my damned husband. They’re nervous when they come here, you see, however much they pretend not to be.’ Peggy grinned. ‘But it doesn’t hurt to yell and shout so that everyone knows I’ll take no nonsense.’ She winked at Meg. ‘You remember what you saw today an’ start as you mean to go on. Don’t ever take any lip from any of the customers an’ allus keep hold of stuff until they’ve paid what they owe on it.’

‘Does that happen often?’

Peggy shrugged. ‘No, but they’ve all sorts of ways of cheating. I’ll learn you about ’em or you’ll be no use to me. There are a few women I don’t trust, but it’s usually the men as give me the most trouble.’ She made a scornful noise in her throat. ‘Ach, I’ve no time for men. Lazy buggers the lot of ’em. I’d never marry again. My hard work goes on my own comforts now, no one else’s.’ Her clenched fist thumped down on the counter to emphasise this. ‘As long as you work hard, you’ll be all right with me, but don’t ever try to cheat me.’