For Many a Long Day (18 page)

Read For Many a Long Day Online

Authors: Anne Doughty

BOOK: For Many a Long Day
12.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Come and sit here. I must go down
quite
soon, because there are people who have a long way to go and they’ll want to say goodbye,’ she explained, moving over on the window-seat to leave room for her.

‘Now, tell me. Any news from George since you wrote to me? Or, more precisely, has he said anything since then about coming home or setting a date.’

Ellie shook her head. ‘No, all he says is that he misses me and longs for us to be together. But he says that every time,’ she confessed sadly.

‘Well, he needs to do better than that, Ellie. He may not be naturally thoughtful, but in this situation, he simply has to learn and learn quickly. Now I think it’s time you took more thought for what
you
want. No, let me finish,’ she said, as Ellie opened her mouth to protest.

‘We all have things we can do nothing about, like working in a lumber camp with no accommodation for women, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t talk about them, share them, see what could be done. Remember Ellie, in every situation there’s always
something
a person can do. That’s why so often, in the face of even a great disaster, people make a cup of tea. And one action often leads to another
and that is when things start to improve. Do you see what I mean?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Ellie said firmly, thinking of the night when Daisy and her family were face with eviction and they went together for an ice-cream.

‘I think you should tell George how difficult it is for you here at home, not knowing what he’s thinking about your future. I also think you ought to make it clear that you want him to come home to be married.’

‘But why so, Rose? I really don’t mind where we’re married, just as long as we can be together again.’

‘But Ellie dear, you and the George that went away are unlikely to be at all the same people by the time you’re able to meet up. It’s just over a year since he went, isn’t it? Well, he’s clearly not coming this season, so it won’t be before the ice melts in March next year. He doesn’t say enough for you to know if he’s changed, and besides don’t you think you yourself have changed if you think about it?’

Ellie blushed slightly. ‘Well, no, I don’t think I had thought about it.’

‘I didn’t imagine you had. I’ve noticed you tend not to think about Ellie, so that’s my job. Old ladies shouldn’t give advice, but some of them can’t resist, so I’m going to ask you to do one thing for me. Don’t
go out
to marry George. Stay here at home. Let him come to you and then make sure he really is the man you want, not just a man that looks the
same as a man you loved when you were younger. Do you understand?’

Ellie nodded and caught her lip.

‘Now we must go, but you’ll be up again soon for your holiday won’t you? I think Annie said August. We can talk about it then, but in the meantime, remember to tell George what
you
want. If he loves you, then he’ll want that too, whether it’s possible or not. At least he can write about it, can’t he?’ said Rose crisply, as she got to her feet, kissed her and gave her a hug.

‘Ellie dear, would you go and fetch me a Hamilton, son, or grandson, any one of them will do. I’m too tired for the stairs without my stick and I refuse to carry a stick on my birthday,’ she said, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

 

Neither Emily nor Ellie said very much on the way home. Between wine and food and the excitement of talking to so many new people, they were both tired out, but very happy.

They dropped Emily first at a small cottage in Stonebridge. Before the Morris had even come to a halt two little boys had run from the dwelling to climb up on the yard gate and shout their greetings. Kevin followed behind, a child in his arms, picking his way between pieces of axle and chassis overflowing from the barn opposite the house which he’d turned into his workshop.

He came and shook Ellie’s hand, leaving it slightly sticky from the baby’s bread and jam, while Emily insisted she come over and see them whenever she got a chance.

As they headed down the steep lane towards Richhill Station she heard Sam’s father ask to be dropped on their way past the farm. When they stopped, he got out and opened the door for her to come and take his seat in the front.

‘I’ve a wee job I need to finish while Sam sees you home, Ellie,’ he explained, as he shook her hand. ‘Tell that good father of yours, I’ll take a run over one night this week, all being well.’

‘I will indeed,’ Ellie said, as he looked in at the two of them. ‘He’ll be pleased to see you, I know.’

They drove off and bounced back across the level crossing. She could hardly believe it was only this morning Sam had made the joke about how un-level it was. She looked at him sideways, his eyes firmly on the steep and twisty road ahead. The same square frame as his father, powerful shoulders, broad forehead, skin tanned, but not so weather beaten. What was so different were the eyes. His father’s were large, solemn and a misty grey. His, a startling blue. Even concentrating on the road ahead they seemed to be taking in more than most.

‘Did you enjoy yourself, Ellie?’

‘Oh yes, Sam, it was a wonderful party. I only had one bad moment.’

‘What was that?’ he said, startled, as he glanced sideways at her.

‘When the two policemen came striding down the hall as I was coming to look for you or your father to help Rose downstairs. I thought something awful must have happened the way they just walked through the open door.’

Sam laughed.

‘Ah dear, my fault. I should have warned you. That was Billy and Charley, the two eldest. They were both on duty. There was a meeting somewhere in Belfast this Sunday prior to next week’s commemoration of Wolfe Tone. There’s Protestants going down to march at Bodenstown, so they were called in reserve in case there was trouble. But whatever they were expectin’ mustn’t have happened. So now you’ve met near all of my family.’

‘Yes, and all you’ve met of mine is my Da.’

‘Ach never mind. I feel like I know Polly. She writes a good letter by the sound of it.’

‘Yes, she does. When I read her letters, I can almost hear her saying the things. Like the time I told you about her finding Uncle Jim in Peterborough.’

‘Aye, that was a good one. Does she ever think about comin’ home?’

‘I don’t know, Sam,’ she said thoughtfully, as he slid neatly into the entrance to Robinson’s field. ‘She might think about it on her bad days, but to be honest
they couldn’t afford it. Not with three wee ones.’

‘It’s a pity isn’t it that so much comes down to money in the end?’ he said, looking directly at her before he got out and came round to open the door for her.

‘Lovely evenin’ isn’t it?’ he said quietly, as they paused by the motor and looked out over the meadow beyond, the shadows of the cows long in the lowering sun.

She guessed what he was thinking. A lovely evening to walk the lanes with a friend. But however innocent their intentions, someone would see, jump to conclusions, and carry word of it back to the Robinsons.

‘It’s been such a lovely day altogether, Sam. Thank you for collecting me and bringing me home. I expect I’ll see you at the Club.’

‘Oh indeed you will,’ he replied, perking up visibly. ‘We’ll have to practice for the tournament, won’t we?’

She crossed the road and stood at the foot of the lane to wave to him as he headed back to the farm. Then she walked up the lane, picked her way through the ploughs and harrows and half-constructed gates, and found herself thinking of Emily and Kevin who had saved up together to come home and to face the difficulties of one being Protestant and the other being Catholic.

 

‘Ach, hallo son, did ye get wee Ellie home all right? There’s tea in the pot. I think all that food and wine made me thirsty.’

‘Thanks, Da. A mug of tea would be great. Aye, she’s home safe and her Da’ll be expectin’ you next week,’ he said, as he filled up a mug beside the paraffin stove on the workbench and added milk from the open bottle.

‘Great day, wasn’t it? Granny was in good form. I wish we could see your Aunty Hannah a bit more often and I missed Sarah,’ said the older man sadly. ‘But then, as Granny said, we’re lucky to be here at all.’

Sam nodded as he drank his tea thirstily and made up his mind.

‘Da, I want to marry Ellie Scott.’

‘Ach Sam, that’s great news. You couldn’t pick a nicer wee girl. When did this all come about?’

‘No Da, it hasn’t come about, I wish it had. Ellie’s spoken for. Or rather, she was going to be married, but they’d no money so her man’s away to Canada to save up.’

‘Ohhh, so that’s the way of it. I’m sorry, Sam. That’s hard on you and you just gettin’ on your feet. Robert told me they were expectin’ a wedding in the family, but I was a bit mixed up between his two younger daughters. I thought maybe it was Florence, who’s older than Ellie.’

‘What am I goin’ to do, Da? I thought I loved
that other woman but it was nothin’ like this.’

‘Well, aren’t you that much further on? Now you know what you’re lookin’ for. An’ all’s not lost yet. Is the date set? Is she goin’ out to him or is he comin’ home for her?’

‘I’ve no idea, Da. I couldn’t bring m’self to ask.’

‘Now you’re not usin’ your wits, son. Who do you think would know, barring Ellie herself?’

‘A girlfriend maybe. Daisy? Or maybe Granny.’

‘I think both of them would have a fair idea. It would do no harm to find out. As the saying is:
There’s many a slip twixt cup and lip.
I know that went against you last time. It might be different this time,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I’ll tell you this much. Bear in mind that young woman will never do what a certain other young woman we know did. She’s too straight for that. She’ll not break her word unless there’s good reason. But there may well be good reason if she finds she doesn’t love him as much as she thought.’

‘So I might be in with a chance, Da.’

‘Oh yes. If you bide your time you might well be in with a chance. That wee girl would be worth waitin’ for,’ he ended before lapsing into his more familiar silence.

The summer of 1933 had begun so happily for Ellie and it continued to bring small pleasures among the daily tasks. Although July turned out to be considerably wetter than June and most Orange men returned home from The Twelfth demonstrations ‘with the shine off their shoes’ as the country expression had it, August was continuously sunny, with just enough rain to plump up the ripening crops and satisfy the farmers without spoiling the pleasure of young people who walked, cycled, or played tennis.

The very warm and fine September which followed such a good summer was a surprise to everyone. By the end of the second week, it had been so sunny, day after day, that the rainwater barrel at the side of the house was bone dry. A delph mug, lost for a year or more, reappeared at the bottom, cushioned on a thin layer of dried and cracked mud, none the worse for having been dropped in accidentally and forgotten.

The unusual extension of summer was welcome to everyone. Usually by mid-September, one had only to step into the forge to hear a note of sadness, even anxiety, as the drop in the nights was observed and commented upon. By then, even on the finest of evenings, the sunlight was paling into dusk by nine o’clock whereas at mid-summer the light had lingered till eleven.

It was the change in the mornings that affected Ellie most. Though she seldom complained about what could not be changed, she was always aware of the mornings growing darker. She dreaded the short winter days, having to get up and dress by candle light in a stone-cold room, a pattern like frosted ferns decorating her window and the odd sliver of ice floating on top of the water she’d have to use for washing.

Now, however, for the first time in her life, the thought of ice brought her some slight comfort. Yes, there were six months to go till the Spring, but thanks to Polly’s encouragement, Ellie’s mind was already moving forward to the first possible opportunity for George to come home.

Over the summer she’d taken Rose’s advice and written more firmly about her need to know his plans for them. She told him that she wanted to know what he
would like to do
, even if it wasn’t entirely possible. True, he’d made some attempt to reply, but he ended up saying he really couldn’t tell her anything until he
was back in Peterborough and could find out what plans his uncle had for him. Of course, he wanted to be with her, but until he was settled in his new job in Peterborough, he just didn’t see how he could plan ahead. He was sure she’d understand.

What he said was perfectly sensible, but it was not exactly encouraging. As she admitted to Polly in one of her letters,

I don’t see much point in saying anything more until he comes back down to Peterborough. When he does, I’ll ask him to come and see you and Jimmy, if that’s all right with you. It could be you’ll get more out of him face to face than I’ve yet managed through letters.

Polly had thought that having George to visit them was a good idea. She’d done her best to encourage Ellie by saying the winter in Peterborough ought to give him long enough to see his way ahead. If he came down in October, he had five months before the seaway opened. Surely time enough to make things much clearer.

Ellie wasn’t familiar with the St Lawrence Seaway. Beyond knowing where it was, she had no idea why it’s opening was in any way relevant to George. But Polly had been finding out on her behalf and it seemed that Uncle Jim was something of an expert on the subject.

They try to get the St Lawrence Seaway opened at the beginning of March. As soon as there’s the slightest rise in temperature or movement in the water, the ice-breakers are out, working up and down, opening the channels and encouraging the ice to break up even more.

It never occurred to me, Ellie dear, why they were in such a hurry but, of course, as the saying is, time is money. Well, it certainly is on the seaway. Uncle Jim says there’s a fortune tied up in cargoes just waiting for the minute they can go. It’s a loss to the owners if the ice keeps them back even by one day. So, set your mind at rest, by mid-March George ought to be able to get a sailing from Montreal.

The news that Uncle Jim and his wife Rebecca had become friends and now visited the little house in Hunter Street regularly had pleased Ellie very much, but there’d been even better news from Polly in the course of the summer. Jimmy had been given a big step up at Quaker Oats. He was now in charge of a whole section of machines. Not only was the job more interesting and enjoyable, but his pay had been almost doubled.

Polly said she couldn’t be sure, but she did think that Uncle Jim had had a hand in it somewhere.
His son Tommy was a foreman at Quaker. He was the one who had given her such a turn the morning she went into the shop and thought she’d seen her brother. He’d been on holiday from Quaker then, just helping his father out. Now that he knew Jimmy himself, she did wonder if his father had asked Tommy to put in a word for him.

It wasn’t just the extra money that was such a relief, Polly wrote, it was Jimmy being more like himself. Doing a routine job, a menial job, had had a very bad effect on him. He was brighter now, in much better spirits and even making more effort with the boys.

Now Davy would be going to school as well as Eddie, she hoped she might be able to do a bit of dressmaking again. She missed her sewing and she was fairly sure she could find customers once she’d got her hand in again. As well as being good-natured and very kind to her and the family, Aunt Rebecca was one of those women who knew everyone. She didn’t gossip, but she took in everything she heard, had a good memory and would be sure to know who would be in need of someone to sew for them. She was beginning to appreciate having an older woman she could talk to, Polly had added. It didn’t make up for missing her little sister, but it
was
a comfort.

It gave Ellie such pleasure to think of Polly and Jimmy and her other friends here at home as she cycled
to work on the first damp morning in mid-October. Leaves blowing in the fresh breeze and hawthorn berries gleaming red in the hedgerows reminded her, however, of her one sadness. She was unlikely to see Sam Hamilton again till the Tennis Club opened at the end of April.

As the thought crossed her mind, she checked herself sharply. By then she might be Mrs George Robinson and be on her way to Canada.

She was shocked to discover the thought did not bring the glow of pleasure she had expected. What could be wrong with her today? Why did the thought of marrying George and sailing off together on the white hulled ship set against a blue sky she’d so often imagined no longer bring the same comforting feeling?

She tried to put the question out of mind, but once asked it wouldn’t go away. Suddenly, she noticed she was cycling slower and slower as it buzzed round and round in her head. Even as she forced herself to speed up, she felt she could almost hear Rose, asking a similar question on the day of her birthday party.

Now the day came back to her, there was something else as well. Was it Rose, or was it Hannah who’d said that if you were quite sure of the man you never gave a second thought to the place or the situation? Yes, it must have been Hannah. She’d said she never even thought of having ‘to play the
Lady,’ because she was so sure about Teddy. Rose herself had left her home in Kerry, her mother and her friends and the mountains she so loved, to come to an unknown place called Annacramp, about which she knew nothing whatever, except that it was at the far end of Ireland and it was John’s home.

Suddenly, it all went very quiet inside her head, as if the nagging buzz of questions and answers had simply stopped of their own accord. All she was aware of was the fresh, rain-washed sky, the patches of blue between the moving clouds and the slight hiss of her tyres on the wet road. Perhaps they
had
gone away, but even if they had, she was far from sure she’d answered any of them.

 

‘Come in, Miss Scott. Do come in.’

Charlie Freeburn moved a comfortable chair for her to sit in front of his desk.

‘Do sit down, please. Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘Thank you. That would be very nice. Milk please, but no sugar.’

She smiled to herself as she saw him pour tea into cups normally reserved for distinguished visitors. She wondered if there was even a slight shake in the hand that held the silver teapot. Certainly he did not seem quite his usual self.

‘I’m afraid I’ve had some rather bad news,’ he began, glancing at her briefly as he passed over her cup, then staring into his own.

‘Oh, I am sorry,’ she replied quietly, wondering what on earth could have disrupted his usual imperturbable manner.

‘Miss Walker has inherited a rather large fortune from an uncle in America,’ he began matter-of-factly. ‘She has given me neither a month’s notice, which would have been courteous, nor a week’s which is the normal requirement. He paused for emphasis. ‘Nor even a day’s. She has simply telephoned to say she will not be coming to work today,
or ever again,
to quote her own words.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Ellie, dropping her eyes, and barely controlling the sudden urge to giggle at Miss Walker’s most unladylike behaviour.

She took a deep breath, looked across the well-polished surface of the desk and found herself feeling enormous sympathy for his distress. However difficult he could be, he was always straight. He was invariably polite, even when someone had done something unfortunate, and he was perfectly capable of admitting that he was wrong, even to the carriers or the youngest member of his staff.

‘The situation would be serious enough at this close point to Christmas, but how are we going to manage in the New Year? Miss Hutchinson has been most courteous in telling me of her marriage plans. She hopes to be with us till the end of April, but that depends on her fiancés posting, which could come even sooner, and I am aware, Miss Scott, that
you yourself may wish to leave for Canada in the spring.’

Put like that, his problem was glaringly obvious. The buyer, the Senior Assistant and an experienced member of staff all leaving within months was enough to upset anyone and a serious threat to the well-being of the business. She hadn’t really thought about the fact that Daisy and herself might be leaving almost together and now Miss Walker had taken herself off, virtually without warning.

‘Do you have any thoughts as to what we might do, Miss Scott?’

Ellie sipped her tea. It was beginning to get cold and she really was very thirsty. To her great surprise she saw a slight smile touch his lips as she collected herself and nodded.

‘As for the buying, Mr Freeburn, I could take that over. Since I became Senior Assistant you’ve given me a great deal of freedom to make decisions. If you’re happy about that, then it’s only a matter of carrying the decisions through by going up to Belfast myself.’

‘You would be prepared to take that on?’

‘Yes, I would. Buying, yes, but accountancy, no. I have no gift with figures, but you have two members of staff who have, Miss Hutchinson and Mr Hanna.’

He nodded slowly.

‘You are quite right. There is no reason why the buyer should also be the accountant,’ he
said matter-of-factly. ‘It was simply a matter of convenience and it suited Miss Walker.’

He sighed.

‘You have certainly solved the immediate problem,’ he said, nodding vigorously. ‘But where am I ever going to find a buyer when you leave me, Miss Scott?’

He looked so crestfallen, she almost wished she wasn’t going.

‘I do have one suggestion,’ she said tentatively.

‘You do? You know a buyer?’

‘I know where we could get one.’

He opened his hands in a gesture of amazement.

‘Mr Hanna,’ she said, pleased with herself for remembering not to say ‘Joe’.

He looked quite startled, peering at her closely to make sure he was hearing her properly.

‘But the Ladies Department?’ he spluttered. ‘Underwear? Corsetry?’

‘I think that Mr Hanna would see such items merely as stock. Merchandise. You remember his graphs and charts. Besides, I think he could draw on Miss Sleator’s knowledge. She may have been rather slow to accustom herself to
how
we work, but she hasn’t any difficulty now. If she had another six to nine months training with the idea of supporting Mr Hanna in view, I think she might surprise you.’

‘Well,
you
do surprise me, but then you know the young lady’s work much better than I, though I
confess I can find no fault with what I see of it,’ he said warmly. ‘I must admit her mother has spoken to me most enthusiastically about her progress here.’

‘Susie is entirely practical,’ she began smiling. ‘She needs to see a problem. Preferably lay her hands on it, like those old chairs in the staff-room,’ she said, with a little laugh. ‘Then she can work out a solution. She can’t do things in her head in the way that Mr Hanna can.’

‘My dear Miss Scott, I haven’t offered you a second cup of tea. I’m so sorry. I confess I was somewhat dispirited this morning and totally preoccupied with my own problems.’

‘When I have a problem, I cycle very slowly,’ she began laughing. ‘I forget that, at that speed, I’ll be late for work.’

‘I hope you don’t have problems, Miss Scott. If I could be of any assistance …’

‘That is kind of you. My problems are really more uncertainties. Things over which I have no control. Like not knowing when my husband-to-be will be able to come home from Canada to marry me.’

‘May I ask what the possibilities are?’

‘The earliest he can possibly come is mid-March when I’m told the ice breaks on the St Lawrence Seaway, the latest would be October, though of course, I hope it will be long before that.’

‘Perhaps I might be able to make you an offer for
our mutual benefit,’ he began, completely restored to his normal self. ‘Obviously your salary will be increased when you become our buyer, as from the beginning of this current month. But if you were able to stay till the end of June, to assist with Staff training in addition to buying, there would be a further increase. Perhaps helpful in setting up a new home?’ he suggested, with a slight smile, as he named a remarkably generous figure.

Other books

The Hustler by Tevis, Walter
Put on the Armour of Light by Catherine Macdonald
Rules of War by Iain Gale
The Transfiguration of Mister Punch by Beech, Mark, Schneider, Charles, Watt, D P, Gardner, Cate
Triple Crown by Felix Francis
The Witches: Salem, 1692 by Stacy Schiff