out, saying, ‘Good night, Mr Connor. We will reopen this subject tomorrow evening.’
‘Yes, as you say, miss. Good night.’
He was walking down the drive . . . no, marching down the drive.
‘We will reopen this subject tomorrow evening.’
Indeed, indeed, we will.
Would you believe it?
They said the age of miracles was past.
Would he go to night school?
He’d go to hell and sit on a hot gridiron to please her.
But on the road he slowed his pace and again asked himself why she had picked him. And he gave himself her own answer. She didn’t mix and it took her a long time to get to know people. Aye. Aye well, he could understand that. She wasn’t the kind that most people would take to. No looks and too smart up top for most men, he supposed, for he had the idea she’d be brainy. And that would apply to her effect on women an’ all.
Hip-hip-hooray! He wanted to throw his hat in the air. Things were happening. They were happening all the time. Janie! Here I come . . . A manager!
What wage would he get?
He’d have to leave that to her of course but he’d know the morrow night.
4
Janie left the Buckhams’ with the mistress’s words racing round in her mind. ‘Well, you have a month to think it over, Janie,’ she had said. It would be wonderful for you and it’ll only be for three weeks. And just think, in all your life you might never have the opportunity to go abroad again. And the children would love to have you with them, you know that.’
Yes, Janie knew that, but she also knew that she was being asked to go to keep the children out of the way and let the master and mistress enjoy their holiday in France.
She had said she would talk to her husband about it, but she already knew what his answer would be. He hated the idea of her being out every day and if it wasn’t that he had needed her wages he would have put his foot down before now. But with this new development and Miss Kean offering to make him manager, well, she knew that her days at the Buckhams’ were numbered; in fact, she could have given in her notice this morning.
There was something else on her mind. She had promised John George she would go and see that lass of his, but with one thing and another she had never had time. But tonight Rory would be late, for even now he’d be in Westoe clinching the matter, and so she told herself why not clear her conscience and go round and see that girl. She must be all of six months’ gone.
When she reached the end of the road she did not, automatically, turn right and cut down to the river but went into a jumble of side streets and towards Horsley Terrace.
They were, she considered, nice houses in the terrace, respectable. It was number twenty-four; it had three steps up to the front door and an iron railing cutting off four feet of garden. She went up the steps and rapped on the door with the knocker. When it was opened she stared at the young woman in front of her. She wasn’t pregnant. ‘Could . . . could I speak with Miss Maggie Ridley please?’
The young woman cast a quick glance over her shoulder, then stepped towards her, pulling the door half closed behind her.
‘She’s not here.’
‘Oh, I had a message for her.’
The girl’s eyes widened. ‘A message? Who from?’
‘Well, he’s . . . he’s a friend of hers.’
The young woman stared at her for a moment, then poked her face forward, hissing, ‘Well, if it’s the friend I think it is you can tell him that she’s married. Tell him that.’
‘Married?’ That’s what I said.’
‘Oh, well’—Janie was nodding her head now—In a way I’m glad to hear it. I . . . I hope she’ll be happy.’
The face looking into hers seemed to crumple and now the whispered tone was soft and laden with sadness as she said, ‘He . . . he was a friend of, of my father’s, he’s a widower with a grown-up family.’
In the look they exchanged there was no need to say any more.
Janie now nodded towards the young woman and said, ‘Thank you, I’ll . . . I’ll tell him,’ then turned and went down the steps. Poor John George! And the poor lass. A dead old man likely. The very thought of it was mucky, nasty.
Rory hadn’t returned when she got in, but Jimmy was there with the kettle boiling and the table set, and immediately he said, ‘Sit down and put your feet up.’
‘I’m not tired.’
‘Well, you should be. And you will be afore the night’s out, I’ve put the washing in soak.’
‘Thanks, Jimmy. Any news?’
‘Aye, Mr Pearson, you know Pearson’s Warehouse, I went in and asked him the day. I said I’d carry anything. He joked at first and said he had heard they were wantin’ a battleship towed from Palmer’s. And then he said there were one or two bits he wanted sending across to Norway.’ He laughed, then went on excitedly, ‘But after that he said, “Well, lad, I’ll see what I can do for you.” He said he believed in passing work around, there was too many monopolies gettin’ a hold in the town. I’ve got to look in the morrow.’
‘Oh Jimmy, that’s grand.’ She took hold of his hand. ‘Eeh! you just want a start. And when I’m home all day I could give you a hand, I could, I’m good at lumpin’ stuff. And I could learn to steer an’ all . . . But I’d better learn to swim afore that.’ She pushed at him and he laughed with her, saying, ‘Aye, but if they had to learn to swim afore they learned to row a boat on this river it would be empty; hardly any sailors swim.’
‘Go on!’
‘It’s a fact.’
‘Eeh! well, I’ll chance it, I’ll steer for you, or hoist the sail, ’cos have you thought you’ll need another hand?’ At the sound of footsteps she turned her head quickly away from him and towards the door, and she was on her feet when Rory entered the room, and she saw immediately that he was in great high fettle.
‘It’s settled then?’
‘Out of me way, Mrs Connor.’ He struck a pose and marched down the room as if he were carrying a swagger stick, and when he reached Jimmy he slapped the top of his own hat, saying, ‘Touch yer peak, boy. Touch yer peak.’
Then they were all clinging together laughing, and he swung them round in a circle, shouting:
‘But we’re all going up!’ He pulled them to a stop and, looking into Janie’s laughing face, he added, ‘Up! Up! We’re going up, lass; nothing’s going to stop us. She’s for me, why God only knows, but she’s the ladder on which we’re going to climb. You take that from me. All of us’—he punched Jimmy on the head—’all of us . . . She’s got influence, fingers in all pies, and that includes this river an’ all. We’re going up, lad.’
Later, when in bed together and closely wrapped against each other, he said to her, ‘You haven’t seemed as over the moon as I thought you would be. There’s something on your mind, isn’t there?’
She didn’t answer, and when he insisted, ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘There’s two things on me mind, Rory, but if I mention them they’ll both cause rows, so I’d better not, had I?’
He was quiet for a moment before saying, ‘Go on, tell me. I won’t go off the deep end, whatever they are . . . I promise, whatever they are.’
It was a long moment before she said, ‘Well mind, don’t forget what you said.’
