One Step at a Time (7 page)

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Authors: Beryl Matthews

BOOK: One Step at a Time
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‘Nothing.’ Gladys looked embarrassed. ‘It’s not your fault, but my mum said I mustn’t have nothing more to do with you.’

‘Why?’ Amy was stunned by this sudden turnaround. Was it all going to start again: the taunts and nasty comments, the rejection? Her mouth thinned into a firm line. Well, she wasn’t going to put up with it any more. ‘Tell me why?’

The girl with Gladys snorted. ‘You know why. Go away. We don’t want the likes of you with us.’

‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ Amy snapped. She’d never liked this one – Janet was her name, and she worked on the cutting table.

‘Look, Amy.’ Gladys shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Things have changed and I can’t see you no more. You must know that.’

Amy watched them walk away, completely mystified. What was she talking about?

Something had gone terribly wrong and by Friday Amy was seriously worried. Her brief period of happiness had come to a sudden end. No one at the factory spoke to her unless they had to. Her mother was refusing to step outside their door, and she was sure all the neighbours were watching her as she walked up the street. She had asked her mum what was going on, but Dolly wouldn’t talk to her.

Amy no longer looked forward to her day or the pleasure of going to the pictures every Saturday with Gladys. Last week she had been so happy, but in a short few days everything had changed. And the upsetting thing was, she didn’t know why.

She was barely inside Marshall’s door when the foreman came up to her.

‘The boss wants to see you, at once.’

She left her coat on a chair and hurried to the office. Perhaps he had another special job for her? The door was open so she knocked and waited for him to look up.

‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

‘Come in and shut the door.’

She did as ordered, not liking his sharp tone, and stood in front of his desk, trying to think if she had done something wrong. Nothing came to mind. She was very careful to work hard and do as she was told.

‘I’m afraid we are going to have to let you go – as of now.’

‘Pardon?’ What was he talking about? Let her go where?

He muttered under his breath, clearly not liking this. ‘I’ve had orders from the owner to sack you.’

She swayed with the shock, struggling to take in what he’d just told her. ‘What have I done? I’ve been working hard and doing the special jobs for you. You said my sewing was good…’ She stopped babbling when he lifted his hand to stop her.

‘It hasn’t got anything to do with your work. It’s because of this.’ He waved a newspaper at her. ‘The man who was killed was a distant relative of the owner.’

‘Killed?’ The room seemed to be moving and she gripped the front of the desk to stop herself from falling over. ‘What are you talking about? What has that got to do with me?’

‘Oh, come on, you know what this is all about. Everyone does.’

‘I don’t. I don’t!’ Her frantic cry echoed around the small office.

He opened the newspaper and laid it in front of
her. ‘Look at the headline. “Convicted of murder and to hang”.’

‘Who? Who?’ She was so confused by now that the words were just a muddle and tears began to trickle down her face. She moaned, ‘I don’t understand. I can’t read it.’

When he swore under his breath she looked up, utterly bereft. She had lost her job and was now being accused of something – but she didn’t know what it was.

The breath hissed through his teeth. ‘My God, and no one’s had the decency to tell you?’

She shook her head; not caring that she had blurted out that she couldn’t read. Something terrible must have happened, but what could it have to do with her?

‘I’m sorry.’ His voice softened. ‘If it was up to me I’d keep you, but I have to follow orders. Your father has been convicted of murder and sentenced to hang.’

Her legs gave way and she dropped to her knees, resting her chin on the desk. Her father was in Australia, wasn’t he?

‘Jim!’ The boss called the foreman in. ‘Give us a hand here.’

She was incapable of moving as the two men helped her to a chair.

‘Bloody hell, Jim,’ the boss exploded. ‘She didn’t know. She hasn’t been able to read the news placards about the trial. I’ve just had to tell her we don’t want her because her father’s going to hang for killing
someone the owner’s related to. Where the hell is there any justice in that! How can this child be to blame and have to suffer?’

‘She can’t read?’

‘No.’

‘Hell, boss, she hid that well.’

‘Yes, she’s a bright kid, but what chance is she going to get round here with everyone knowing the victim?’

This conversation all sounded very far away to Amy as she sat hunched up, dry-eyed with shock. Now she understood why everyone had been giving her strange looks, and why her mother was refusing to go out. But she should have been told. It was cruel to leave her to find out like this. It was impossible to believe that her dad had done this terrible thing. And her mother wasn’t strong…

Hauling herself up, she stood on shaking legs. She must get back to her mother.

‘Easy now.’ The boss steadied her, but she shook him off and reached out for the newspaper on his desk. This was only managed by holding on to the back of the chair. Once it was in her hand she let go of the chair and turned slowly to face the door, willing her legs to move.

The boss placed an envelope in her other hand. ‘I’ve paid you up to the end of the week.’

Holding tightly to the newspaper and her wage packet she forced herself to take a step forward. Somehow, she managed to walk out of the office and
across the factory floor to the front door. She was vaguely aware that work had stopped in the factory and everyone was watching her, but she kept her head up and concentrated on taking one step at a time.

‘Well, don’t just stand there gawping,’ the boss thundered. ‘Get back to bloody work or I’ll sack the lot of you. I’m just in the mood to do it as well.’

Amy had just reached the door when someone put her coat around her shoulders.

‘Don’t forget this, it’s cold outside. I’m sorry, Amy.’

Through the haze of pain she recognized Gladys’s voice, but she didn’t look at her or stop moving. If a friend couldn’t stick by you in times of trouble, then they weren’t worth bothering with.

After closing the door in the face of her so-called friend, she shuffled round until she was going in the right direction. One foot in front of the other, she told herself through gritted teeth. Just one foot in front of the other, that’s all there was to walking.

It must have worked because the next thing she knew she was in the scullery, and had dropped like a stone into one of the chairs at the table.

Her mother was there and watched her daughter, hollow-eyed. ‘You know and they’ve sacked you.’

Amy nodded and slapped the wage packet and newspaper on the table. ‘You should have told me, Mum. It wasn’t right to let me find out like this. It wasn’t right.’

‘I know, but I’m a coward, Amy, and was hoping
they wouldn’t find him guilty. Then it would have all blown over in no time.’

‘But that didn’t happen, and now we have to face this horror.’ Amy refused to cry after seeing the state her mother was in. She looked absolutely terrible. ‘Have you seen him?’

Her mother sobbed as if her heart would break. ‘Yes, he’s in Pentonville.’

‘Did he do it?’ Amy had to know.

‘Yes, but he said the man was a thief and a bully. He was only defending himself. He wasn’t going to lose all that money he’d made on this long trip. It would have bought a little house of our own.’

‘Why’s he going to hang then?’

‘Because the judge and jury didn’t believe him. No one came forward to speak up for your dad.’ Dolly gripped her hands together tightly until the knuckles were white. ‘We won’t get any of the money. They said there was no proof that it belonged to your dad. It’s being given to his wife and kids.’

A long sea trip all for nothing. Amy shook her head in disbelief. No wonder her father fought so hard. ‘I’ll go and see him.’

‘No, no.’ Her mother lifted a tear-stained face. ‘He said he doesn’t want to see either of us, because it will make the last week of his life even harder. He feels real bad, Amy. Says he’s let us both down by losing his temper. It was a lot of money, but it wasn’t worth hanging for.’

*

The following week dragged by for Amy and her mother. No neighbours came round to give them support or help. It appeared that they had all known the murdered man, and so had taken the killing personally; they were determined to ostracize the murderer’s wife and daughter, even though they were innocent victims in this tragedy.

When Amy went out shopping for food she kept her head up and looked everyone straight in the eyes, defying them to say anything unpleasant to her. But it was only a façade, and once in the safety of her home the barrier crumbled.

The hanging was to take place early on the morning of 22 October. Amy and Dolly had hardly slept during the last week, and were sitting at the table by six o’clock that morning, watching the minutes pass. Amy felt as if her heart was being gripped tightly and she could hardly breathe. How desperately frightened her father must be feeling. She had never been close to him, but she felt deeply for him now. He shouldn’t have to be facing this. Hanging was an abomination, in her opinion. She had always believed it was a terrible thing to do to someone, but she had never dreamt it would happen to anyone she knew, least of all her father. Supposing the truth came out about this other man later on? It would be too late then. Her father shouldn’t have killed him, of course, but he didn’t deserve to die by hanging.

They watched the clock, every second an agony. Amy held on to her mother as Dolly looked near to
collapse. When the minute hand reached five past the appointed hour, her mother buried her head in her hands and rested them on the table. ‘It’s all over now.’

‘That quick?’ Amy whispered.

‘It’s done in a few seconds, so I’m told.’

Amy lifted her mother out of the chair and managed to get her into bed, then she returned to the scullery and curled up in the armchair and allowed her grief to surface.

After that her mother’s health deteriorated quickly. It was as if she had given up; four days after the hanging, she died. Amy was on her own, and through the fear and grief she knew she was going to have to grow up fast.

Not being able to read properly was now a huge handicap as she struggled with arrangements for the funeral. She had to bury her pride and ask strangers to read things for her. Her mother had had a small insurance policy, which would cover the cost of a simple funeral. Then the tallyman called and wanted the outstanding balance paid in full. Amy was glad she had the money in her old teapot, and was grateful her mother had insisted she saved a little each week. Luckily she had put more than a shilling a week away when she could afford it, but after paying off the debt of eight shillings, she only had sixteen shillings left. That wasn’t going to last her long, as the rent was six shillings a week. She was going to have to find another job, and fast.

For two days running she went to the Labour Exchange and stood patiently in line until her turn came, but they had nothing for her. So many people were looking for work, and she couldn’t take anything that needed reading or writing, which severely restricted the jobs she could do. If she’d been a boy she could have done manual labour, like being a dustman or digging roads, but as a girl that was out of the question.

Returning home after another fruitless search, Amy found the rent collector waiting for her. She was surprised. ‘But I’ve paid for this week.’

‘I know, miss.’ He cleared his throat. ‘The thing is you’re too young to stay here on your own. I’m to tell you that you have to leave by the end of next week.’

‘Leave?’ She gasped in horror. ‘But where will I go? This is my home.’

‘Sorry, but it isn’t up to me.’ He tipped his cap. ‘I’ll come by for the keys when your time’s up.’

As he walked away cold fear gripped Amy. She hadn’t believed things could get any worse, but they just had. Her mother’s funeral was tomorrow. After that she had one more week. What was she going to do? She didn’t have any relatives she knew of that she could go to, and no one round here would help. She and her mother had found that out as soon as her father had been arrested.

‘Oh dear God,’ she prayed desperately. ‘Someone help me, please!’

7

He was being shaken roughly. Ben opened one eye and saw Howard standing beside the bed with a steaming bowl of something in his hand. ‘Go away!’

‘Can’t do that.’ Howard smirked. ‘Your mother’s been again.’

‘Oh God, not more chicken soup?’

‘Don’t know what you’ve got against it.’ His friend sat on the edge of the bed and began to eat with obvious enjoyment. ‘Can’t waste good food.’

Ben groaned and pulled the pillow over his face. This was the worst bout of influenza he’d ever had. It had laid him out for two weeks, and that was unheard of. It was unusual for him even to catch a cold.

‘Your mother looked at you this morning, declared you were better and it was time you got up.’ Howard scraped out the bowl and put it on the bedside table.

‘She would.’ Ben tossed the pillow aside and squinted at his tormentor. ‘Even when I was a child she used to say that she couldn’t feel whatever was wrong with me, so I was to stop making a fuss.’

‘That’s exactly what she said today.’ Howard grinned in amusement, stood up and whipped off the blue knitted socks his friend was wearing. His feet were sticking out of the end of the bed as usual.

‘Hey, my feet will get cold.’

‘Why don’t you get a bigger bed?’

‘Can’t afford it.’ Ben tucked his feet up and stretched his arms above his head. ‘I feel as weak as a kitten.’

‘Some kitten!’ A look of mischief crossed Howard’s face as his hand shot out and dragged the covers off the bed. ‘Have a bath and a shave. You’ll feel better then.’

‘That sounds like another of my mother’s homilies.’

‘Good guess. She was about to come up and drag you out of bed herself, but I managed to stall her.’

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