Tangled Threads (24 page)

‘This is where a lot of the lace manufacturers and warehouse owners live,’ Harry said. ‘They make a better living than we do.’ He sounded bitter, but Eveleen
couldn’t help thinking that the Singleton family had done quite well for themselves. Finally they turned to the left again and Harry said, ‘This is Stoney Street.’

They walked a distance and came to stand in front of a magnificent building shaped like a huge E. It was four storeys high.

‘This is the warehouse where I do my business.’

‘Where do we go in?’ Eveleen asked. ‘Up those steps and through that arched doorway?’

‘I do, yes. But you can’t come with me.’

Eveleen’s heart skipped a beat. Unwittingly her uncle was playing right into her hands. She had wondered how she was going to be able to slip away from him and now here he was giving her
that very opportunity.

‘Now, give me your lace. I’ll show it to the buyer I deal with. But I can’t make any promises, mind.’ Eveleen handed her uncle the bag containing the rolls of pillow
lace. It represented hours and hours of fine work, but all Harry said curtly, was, ‘Now don’t go wandering off.’

Absently, her gaze on the finely dressed men climbing the steps in long coats and bowler hats with stiff wide collars and ties, she nodded. Further along the street, she noticed men and women,
dressed more like she was, hurrying in through a much lowlier entrance. They must work here, she thought.

As her uncle disappeared through the huge, ornate door, Eveleen walked towards the other entrance.

‘Excuse me,’ she stopped a woman about to hurry in through the door. ‘Do you work here.’

‘Er – yes, mi duck.’

‘What do you do?’

The woman looked wary for a moment and she glanced Eveleen up and down. Then, appearing to like what she saw, she smiled and said, ‘Well, I don’t exactly work
here
but mi
daughter does. She works on the third floor trimmin’ and scallopin’ lace. But sometimes I do work at home for ’em.’

‘So they don’t make anything here then?’

The woman shook her head. ‘Not really. The lace is made in the factories and then brought here to the warehouses to be finished. And, like I say, they have a lot of homeworkers an’
all.’

‘Do – do you think they have any vacancies? I’m a quick learner and I don’t mind what I do.’ She fished in her reticule and brought out the small samples of her
lace work that she had kept back from uncle. ‘This is my work. Is it any good?’

‘I don’t reckon they’ve any jobs going at the moment, but you could ask.’ Then the woman examined Eveleen’s lace closely. ‘That’s very good.’
Eveleen felt the woman’s keen gaze on her. ‘But you’d not make enough for a livin’ just working at home, mi duck. The miserable beggars don’t pay much, even for the
finest work. You’d be better off trying to get work in a factory or a warehouse and doing this on the side at home to make a bit extra.’ She gave a wry laugh. ‘Aye, and you need
to, I can tell you. Even the men’s wages are a pittance. Anyway, don’t get me going on that subject, else we’ll be here all day. If you’re lookin’ for work,’ she
went on. ‘The best way is to go to the factories.’

‘Do you know where they are?’

‘I should do. My old man works at one. Reckitt’s on Canal Street. I do work at home for them an’ all.’

‘Do you? Do you really?’ Eveleen’s heart leapt hopefully. ‘How do I get there?’

The woman rattled off directions, naming so many streets that Eveleen was mesmerized. Seeing her helpless look, the woman said, ‘You don’t know Nottingham, do you?’

Eveleen shook her head. ‘No, this is my first visit. I got off the omnibus in Broad Marsh.’

‘Ah well, that helps a bit. Canal Street isn’t far from there. Go back and ask directions from there. It’ll be easier for you.’

Eveleen smiled, instinctively liking the first person in the city she had met. ‘Thank you,’ she said as they parted. ‘You’ve been very kind. I hope we meet
again.’

The woman chuckled. ‘Nottingham’s a big place. But I wish you luck. And you never know, if you get a job at Reckitt’s then you might meet up with my old man. Tarrra, mi
duck.’

Eveleen had a good sense of direction and found her way back to the corner turning into Broad Marsh without difficulty. Then she asked a man for directions again.

‘Keep straight on this road and you’ll come to a junction with Canal Street to the right and Leen Side to the left. Where are you looking for?’

‘Reckitt’s.’

‘Oh aye, well, you can’t miss it. It’s got big green gates with the name painted in white lettering.’

‘Thank you,’ Eveleen said and set off once more. She was wishing now that she had had the sense to stop and buy something to eat and drink. She had seen a tiny shop selling teas,
sweets and ice cream – a rare treat that would be – but she was so anxious to find work that she had ignored the messages from her rumbling stomach and her dry mouth. She walked on,
pausing only to flatten herself against a wall as a fire engine, drawn by two black horses, their smooth coats shining in the sunshine, came rattling past her at full gallop. On the four-wheeled
carriage sat eight firemen dressed in dark tunics with shiny brass buttons and helmets. The pedestrians in the narrow street parted quickly to let the vehicle through, but as soon as it had passed
they continued going about their business.

Startled by the clanging bell and the thundering horses, Eveleen stared after the engine as it disappeared round a corner. She glanced about her. No one else appeared unduly concerned. For them,
she thought, this must be an everyday occurrence. Recovering her composure, she walked on. She was coming now to a poorer part of the city. No longer were there grand houses, but tall, terraced
houses with doors stepping straight out on to the cobbled street. Grubby-faced children played in the road while careworn mothers scrubbed the step outside their homes, trying to keep the city dirt
at bay.

And yet, even here, Eveleen still felt that prickle of excitement. The place seethed with life. Here, Eveleen thought with fresh hope, her family could lose themselves, away from Harry and his
strict regime.

She saw the green double wooden gates. One stood open, but the left one was still closed and bore the single name “Reckitt”. Already she could hear the clatter of machinery. She
glanced up and saw the now familiar sight of the long line of windows on the top storey.

‘I can’t escape him even here,’ she murmured, thinking of her uncle’s workshops.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the door and went towards the factory entrance.

‘You need to see Mr Carpenter. He sets folk on. He’s about somewhere.’

Eveleen was tired now and hardly looked her best for an interview for a job. She smoothed down her hair and adjusted the shawl about her shoulders. She lifted her head and straightened her back,
trying to ignore her aching feet and weary limbs.

‘What does he look like?’

The girl grinned. ‘He’s big and fat and ugly. And watch yourself, ’cos he’s a devil for the girls. But he’s not so bad. He’s fair, I’ll give him that.
Look, wait here a minute, I’ll see if I can find him for you.’

The girl’s kindness brought tears of gratitude to Eveleen’s eyes, but she blinked them away and smiled. ‘Thanks.’

Eveleen stood in the cold and waited. Already the light was beginning to fade and lamps were being lit in the factory so that the workers could continue late into the evening. Unbidden, the
picture of her uncle’s round globe above his frame came into her mind. She sighed. If only Jimmy hadn’t been such an idiot, they could have settled in very happily there. In time,
Eveleen might have been able to buy her own frame and, with a lot of hard work, she could have made enough money to take them all back home.

Back to Lincolnshire where her mother wanted to be.

But Jimmy had ruined everything and now they were in a worse situation than before. There were times, Eveleen thought, when she could quite cheerfully wring her brother’s scrawny neck.

‘I’ve found him.’ The girl was back and beckoning to her. ‘This way.’ She winked at Eveleen. ‘I’ve told him there’s a pretty girl wants to see
him. He won’t refuse to see you now. Come on.’

The girl led the way round a corner and along twisting, narrow passages. Arriving at a door leading into a tiny office, she gestured to Eveleen to go inside. ‘Good luck,’ then she
smiled and whispered. ‘And mind you stay this side of his desk.’

With a laugh she was gone, running along the passageway towards the stairs to the upper floors.

Eveleen stepped into the room. The bulk of the man sitting behind the desk seemed to fill the small office and she marvelled that he could even fit into the chair he was sitting on. As he looked
up, his jowls wobbled and Eveleen had to stifle her laughter. The girl’s saucy description of him had been most apt. His face was round and florid, his fat cheeks marked with tiny red veins.
His bulbous nose fought for prominence over his thick, wet lips and he had dark folds of skin beneath his eyes. And yet, when she looked into those eyes, Eveleen could see the man inside the mound
of flesh. There was humour and kindness and, yes, like the girl had said, a spark of devilment.

‘Mr Carpenter?’

‘That’s me, young lady, and what can I do for you?’ His bold glance appraised her and yet Eveleen did not find it offensive. She did not fear this man as she might have done a
more handsome one. In a strange way, she felt sorry for him. He had feelings, just like everyone else, even though he presented a ridiculous figure.

‘I’m looking for a job, Mr Carpenter.’

‘Ah well, now.’ Josh Carpenter leant back in the chair, which creaked in protest. Eveleen found herself holding her breath in case it should give way beneath him. ‘Then
we’d better have a nice little talk, hadn’t we? Pull up that chair, mi duck. Sit down and tell me all about yourself.’

So Eveleen sat and found herself telling him about herself,
all
about herself. The words tumbled out and it seemed as if, once the floodgates were opened, she could not stop the deluge.
She told him about her father’s death and how she now felt responsible for her mother and younger brother. She told him about her uncle, his workshops and his devotion to the chapel. She even
told him how Harry Singleton inflicted the rigid way of life he led himself upon all those around him.

‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ she said hastily. ‘He’s a good man and I’m sure his way of life is right, but—’

The big man finished for her. ‘But it takes a lot of living up to, mi duck, doesn’t it?’

Eveleen nodded.

‘Aye, there’s a few manufacturers and warehouse owners round here who worship at a particular church and expect all their workers to attend regularly too.’

Perhaps she had told him too much, perhaps she had sounded disloyal to her own family. He seemed so understanding, but he was still a man, Eveleen reminded herself sharply.

‘And now,’ he was asking. ‘You feel it’s time to move on? To get away?’

‘There’s more to it than that, I’m afraid.’ She had come this far, she thought, he might as well know the full story.

‘My uncle has a daughter. He keeps her very . . .’ She strove to find the right words to be fair to her uncle. ‘Well, she’s all he has and—’

‘Keeps her well and truly under his thumb, does he?’

Eveleen nodded, startled by this man’s astuteness. There was a lot more to Mr Carpenter than being big, fat and ugly. She’d only just met him and yet there was something so
comforting about him.

‘My brother and Rebecca have become – have been . . .’ She faltered, but again the big man let out a long, sympathetic ‘Ahhhh.’

‘Rebecca is expecting my brother’s child. And when my uncle finds out—’ There was no need to say more for Josh Carpenter nodded, understanding at once.

‘You’ve taken a lot on for one so young.’

Eveleen sighed. ‘We’ll all have to leave. Rebecca too. We’ll have to look after her now. And the child, when it comes.’

‘So the girl’s father really won’t stand by her?’

Eveleen shook her head vehemently, cutting in, ‘No, he won’t.’

Josh Carpenter rubbed his hand on his face and murmured, ‘Well, now, let’s see. You say you can make pillow lace?’

Eveleen bent down and picked up the bag she had dropped beside her chair. She pulled out the pieces of lace she had made and passed them to him.

Josh examined it keenly. ‘This is well done. Very well done.’

‘And I can work one of my uncle’s knitting frames.’

Josh pulled a wry face. ‘Sorry, mi duck, but we don’t have women working the machines.’

Eveleen felt a swift stab of disappointment. It must have shown on her face, for Josh said quickly, ‘But you say your brother can operate a machine? They’re not knitting frames we
have here of course. They’re twist lace machines, but I’m sure your brother would soon pick it up.’

She nodded and bit her lip, stopping herself telling him that Jimmy was neither as good a worker as she was nor as reliable. She would just have to make sure that her brother changed his ways.
Instead, she asked, ‘But do you have any jobs for women in the factory?’

‘Oh yes. This is a factory-cum-warehouse, see. So the goods that are made on the machines go straight to the warehouse building next door and we have different workshops and a lot of the
workers there are women. So, young lady, when you get settled in Nottingham, bring your brother to see me and we’ll see what we can do for both of you.’ He held out his hand to her and
Eveleen stood up. She smiled at him and shook his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Carpenter. Thank you very much.’

As she walked out of the gates of the factory, Eveleen gave a little skip of sheer joy. Their luck was turning, she could feel it. The sky above the tall buildings was darkening now and she
could feel a few spots of rain on her face. She would have to hurry to catch the last omnibus to Flawford. If she missed it, she faced a walk of five miles or more.

She had no time left now to seek lodgings for the family, but she had achieved a great deal that day and, though she felt tired and very hungry now, she was also elated. She had the promise of
work for Jimmy and herself and she had seen the trading area known as the Lace Market. It was not quite the kind of market she had expected, with open stalls and traders standing behind them
shouting their wares. It was a much more refined way of trading, but at least she now understood how it all worked, or at least she thought she did.