Polly's Pride (34 page)

In any case, hadn’t she made great strides already, getting the warehouse and at least some carpets to sell? Accommodation wasn’t easy to come by in this neighbourhood, and Polly refused to take her children anywhere that wasn’t clean and decent. She had standards to maintain for her family, poor or no.

As she had feared, the caretaker’s flat had already been taken. ‘Eeh, you should’ve snapped it up while you had chance, lass.’ She was more disappointed than she could say, and bitterly regretted her own caution in the matter.
 

Polly realised she would have to learn to be more decisive, to take control of herself and her life, or she would never get anywhere. But then she probably couldn’t have afforded it anyway. For the moment at least, she must be patient.

She did what she could by asking around locally, in case there was anything suitable. She even visited the Corporation offices to enquire about the new slum clearance scheme she’d heard of, where they were sending families to live out at Wythenshaw, a garden suburb which was the pride and joy of the city. The clerk laboriously took down her particulars and helped her fill out all the necessary forms, but gave no indication of when a house may come available, if at all.

Polly turned with renewed attention to her work, for that was her best route to escape. Finding new stock must be her priority. They were running desperately low, and without carpets she had no income, and without income, her freedom would evaporate almost as quickly as she had won it.

As for Charlie, he must remain a dream. He’d only come looking for her because he was a kind man concerned for her well-being. It didn’t mean anything more than that, and she’d been foolish to think any different, or to go looking for him. At least he’d kept away since, as per her instructions. She’d probably never set eyes on him again.

The next few months were difficult. Polly spent hours trekking round with her hand cart, knocking on doors and asking if anyone had any old carpets to sell. Unfortunately nobody had and, once she had sold all her remaining pieces, the warehouse would be empty. This was a severe disappointment, for if she couldn’t make a go of her business, then her money would soon disappear and she’d have no means of earning any more, which meant no hope of escape from her brother-in-law.

There must be a solution somewhere, she thought, very near to panic. Perhaps she was looking in the wrong places. Perhaps she should try Victoria Park, Ellesmere Park or over towards Wilmslow. But if she travelled too far, how could she possibly transport the rolls of carpet on the hand cart all the way back to Ancoats?

Christmas came and went and Polly felt trapped and frustrated, close to despair, and all the time a small voice was telling her to find Charlie again and ask for his help, yet stubbornly she resisted. She wanted to prove herself first.

And then she remembered she had one asset she hadn’t yet considered. Her son.

Benny was bearing his own problems in stoical silence. He was delighted to see that his mam was more herself, but his situation hadn’t improved one bit. He hated sleeping under the stairs, with only an old greatcoat and thin blanket to keep him warm. It wasn’t that he’d enjoyed sharing a room with his sister, or needed her comfort, for he was almost thirteen now and very nearly a man, but his candle cast funny shadows on the walls of his cubby-hole. He told himself they were only homely things, like the flat iron, the bread bin or the clothes-horse, but sometimes the black shapes on the wall looked more like a man’s dismembered head, the sort of thing shown each week in the Illustrated Police Gazette, or even the bars of a cage. He hated it. But he hated his uncle more.

If Uncle Josh and Gran hadn’t moved in, he’d have a room of his own now and be the man of the house, which was what his dad would have wanted.

In addition, Georgie Eastwood was continuing to make his life a misery. The episode of the torn jacket had been the last in a long line of taunts and tricks that Georgie played on him at every opportunity. He waited for Benny to come out of the school playground, then he and his gang would follow him home, or they would jump out at him from some ginnel or back entry. No longer at school, nor with any sort of a job, Georgie had to amuse himself somehow. Benny was the butt of his humour.

But the last thing Benny wanted was for his mother to start fighting his corner for him, as if he were an infant who couldn’t stand up for himself. Nor did he want her to see the bruises on his body, left there by the many punches Georgie and his gang flung at him.

Now, when Polly came to him, he was anxious to help. Anything to help them break free from his uncle’s authority. Yes, he agreed, of course he remembered the old cinema that he’d overheard the women talking about. Whether it would still have its carpet was another matter, but he’d certainly go with her to look.

They went together. With great trepidation and very little hope in her heart, Polly knocked on the manager’s door. When a voice boomed out, telling her to enter, she very nearly ran away.

Twenty minutes later she was glad that she hadn’t. The manager did still possess the carpet, his plans for turning the cinema into a dance-hall having suffered a set-back while he sought extra finance through the dark days of the depression. Now that he had succeeded in his quest, he was more than ready to agree a price and be rid of it. He even offered to have his own men deliver it to Polly’s warehouse. She couldn’t believe her luck.

‘We’re in business,’ she whooped, whirling Benny round in a dance of delight right there on the pavement. ‘Aren’t I blessed with a fine son? Ye’ve come up trumps again, so you have.’ And he puffed out his chest with pride. Perhaps it was time to tackle Georgie Eastwood head on. Then again, perhaps not yet.

When the carpet was delivered, Polly felt almost overwhelmed by the task which confronted her. It would take days, if not weeks, to clean, cut and bind a carpet this size into saleable pieces. She had no money left to pay for labour to help her, not a penny, but still it had been worth it. Lucy had promised to give what assistance she could. Benny couldn’t sew, of course, but had offered to help with the lifting and carrying, eager to prove his worth and help his mam earn enough money to get them out of Joshua’s clutches.

‘It will be a real family business, will it not?’ she’d told them.

For the rest, she’d just have to grit her teeth and set to work herself. Despite the prospect of weeks of back-breaking labour, Polly felt alive with new hope. She meant to put a sign on the windows of their part of the warehouse, just as soon as they had some pieces to sell. She didn’t hold out any great hope of selling many carpets that way, but the odd sale would help to keep the wolf from the door, until she had enough stock to go out on the road.

‘You look mighty perky. Have you lost twopence and found a tanner?’ It was a day or two later and Big Flo was watching with interest as Polly pulled her shawl over her head, ready to set off especially early. ‘You look like you’ve come into a fortune.’

‘Maybe I have in a way. If you must know, I’ve bought a carpet, a great big one, which is going to set me up grand.’

Big Flo shook her head in disbelief when she’d been told the full tale. ‘A cinema carpet? Nay, you can’t cope with one that size all on your own.’

Polly smiled at her mother-in-law’s lugubrious expression. ‘I did tell you I’d find more stock.’

Aye, but I never thought you’d actually do it. He’ll not like it, tha knows.’

Polly didn’t ask who she meant. ‘Well, he’ll have to lump it.’ She closed the door on her mother-in-law’s dire warning and walked briskly away. She’d only got halfway down Dove Street when she found that she was no longer alone. Big Flo was beside her, old black shawl enveloping her massive shoulders, huge clogs clicking on the stone setts. Polly stopped dead. ‘What’s this?’

‘I thought as how you’d happen need a bit of a hand like. If it’s as big as you say.’

‘Oh, it’s big all right.’

‘Right then, let’s get cracking.’

Polly was delighted by this turn of events. Big Flo would be invaluable, with her great strong hands and arms. And she had a good eye, able to cut straight as a die.

‘What about Joshua? You’d be going against his wishes.’

After a long moment in which the two women looked at each other without a word being exchanged, Big Flo wrapped the shawl tighter about her massive shoulders. ‘Happen so. And happen he isn’t always right, eh?’

It was a major concession, one she had never made before. When Polly said nothing, she snapped, ‘Come on then, lass. We’ll not earn any brass standing about here gawping!’

The dusty days of summer soon gave way to the shorter days of autumn, with the lamplighter coming round earlier and earlier. The Italian ice cream sellers put away their highly decorated carts and made a start on the hot chestnut season.

‘Annyragnbones?’ shouted the rag and bone man, in the hope of picking up a few decent bits of clothing, paying his customers with slabs of donkey-stone or used clog irons. He did a thriving trade.

If Polly’s own business wasn’t exactly booming, at least she was breaking even. She was covering her costs and able to offer a sum of money each week to pay for the food she and the children consumed. This at least gave them a sense of independence, even if they were still living under what was effectively Joshua’s roof.

She stuck a small notice in the warehouse window, announcing the date they would be open for custom. In addition, following Joshua’s own example, she risked some of her precious money on having a hundred or so leaflets printed and got Benny and Lucy to go round likely streets in and around Ancoats, putting them through letter-boxes.

When the big day arrived, each and every one of them was anxious to do well. Even Big Flo, who normally claimed to be untroubled by such things, was a bundle of nerves.

‘Eeh, heck, what if nobody comes?’

But they did come. A full hour before the appointed time, a queue began to form outside. Lucy, peeping through the dusty window, could hardly believe her eyes. There were men, women and even children patiently waiting to view the novelty of carpet pieces which might brighten their homes and bring warmth to their cold feet. And everybody loved a bargain. Lucy was so astounded by the numbers gathering that she had to bring Benny
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and her mother to confirm that she was right; they were indeed queuing up to come into the warehouse, and not simply waiting for a tram.

When the moment came to unlock the double doors, Big Flo appointed herself doorkeeper.

Polly looked a bit worried by this. ‘Remember, we have to be polite, Flo. They are our customers. We want them to enjoy the experience and stay around long enough to buy.’

‘Aye, I know that, but if there’s any trouble, they’ll be out on their ear faster than they can turn round!’ She rolled up her sleeves in readiness, bringing them all to a fit of giggles at the picture this painted of people spinning through the door and landing on their ears.

The day was a great success. The crowd surged in and each one of the Pride family, Polly, Lucy and Big Flo, was kept fully occupied showing rugs and taking money. Benny helped too, earning himself the odd copper by rolling up the carpets and sending them sliding down the home-made chute, or offering to deliver the larger pieces to folk’s front doors. At this rate he’d a good chance of earning more in tips on the delivery rounds which he could fit in each day after school. Life was picking up.

There was one awkward moment when Polly rolled out a largish square of carpet and a beetle scurried across it. Quick as a flash Big Flo caught the interloper in her great fist before anyone noticed and held it there, its legs scrabbling to be let out. The customer, none the wiser, paid over her money and went off happily with the rug tucked under her arm. Only then did Big Flo open up her hand to reveal the creature which was unharmed.

After releasing it out the back door, she said, Id’ve thrown this little chap in for nowt, only I know Ida Murgatroyd already has plenty of her own.’ And she cackled with laughter, for this was the best fun she’d had since last wakes week on Collin’s Fairground.

Chapter Twenty-Three

During the long cold days of winter, Polly worked harder than she ever had in her life before, though never had she felt more fulfilled. After that first day, the sales became a feature, every Thursday and Saturday, regular as clockwork. Some days were quiet with no more than a few curious wanderers; on others there would be a steady flow of customers, even if they didn’t all buy, which gave Polly hope. The Depression surely couldn’t last forever’

The rest of the time the Pride family was busy cutting and sewing, or Polly was out and about with her hand cart, seeking more carpets. Sometimes she was lucky, more often than not she came home empty-handed. Finding stock continued to be a problem, which proved there was no room for complacency. As soon as the weather improved she’d have to try further afield, though she still hadn’t solved the problem of transport. Even so, life was good.

‘Sure and everything’s going right for us at last.’

‘Aye, you could say so,’ Big Flo agreed, but there was still the slightest hint of doubt in her tone.

Lucy, having decided that her mother was back on track now, resolved to give more attention to her own affairs. Each morning she would set out early, hoping to catch sight of Tom on his way to the rail yard where he worked. Tom was a Catholic. Therefore not at all suitable so far as Uncle Joshua was concerned. Not that Lucy cared what her uncle thought. After a dozen disappointments, she finally spotted Tom, managing to come around a corner at the optimum moment to collide with him head on.