A Change of Fortune (22 page)

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Authors: Beryl Matthews

Tags: #Sagas, #Humour, #Chick-Lit, #Family Saga, #Women's Fiction, #Poverty, #Fiction

BOOK: A Change of Fortune
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When the frugal meal was ready, Jenny took it into the front room. They ate in silence, and it wasn’t until the second cup of tea that Ma spoke.

‘I always guessed you had some fire in you, ducky. You ain’t scared of that family of yours no more, are you?’

‘No.’ Jenny lifted her head. ‘My so-called family can do what they like. I’ll never go back there, and they won’t be able to force me to do anything I don’t want to now.’

‘Bravo!’ Ma slapped her hand on the arm of her chair. ‘Just let them show their faces round here and I’ll give them a piece of my mind. They’ve treated you real bad, and they don’t deserve to have a lovely girl like you. But you’re all grown up now and don’t need them.’

The thought of Ma laying into her mother and Aunt Gertrude with her colourful vocabulary had Jenny laughing out loud. She had just lost her job, didn’t know how they were going to manage – and she didn’t care! This was more home to her than the Bloomsbury house had ever been. And Ma, Glad, Fred and Ivy were closer to her than her own flesh and blood.

‘So.’ Ma held her gaze steadily. ‘Are you Eugenie Winford or Jenny Baker?’

‘Jenny Baker,’ she answered without hesitation.

Ma gave a satisfied smile. ‘Well, Jenny Baker, we’d better decide what’s to be done, hadn’t we?’

An hour later they were no nearer a solution, and Jenny gazed at Ma in disgust. ‘I’m useless. I can’t sew, can’t knit, don’t know anything about business.’

‘You ain’t useless,’ Ma corrected sharply, then her eyes twinkled. ‘You can scrub a fine step.’

Her gloom disappeared and she grinned at the elderly woman. ‘The best one in the street, but that doesn’t help us to eat. No one round here’s got money to pay me to scrub their steps.’ Jenny’s hand went to the pendant around her neck.

‘You can forget that, my girl. That was a present from your dad and you ought to keep it as a reminder of him. We should be all right for a while. I’ve got the rent put by for a couple of weeks, and there’s a few bob in my purse.’

‘And I’ve got seven and sixpence.’ Jenny had been saving to go out with Edna when she had a whole day off, but that would have to wait now. She stood up. ‘I’d better get some shopping.’

‘Go to Fred and Stan’s stall, Jen. They’re having a tough time. If people can’t buy what they’ve got, then they can’t buy for the next day’s trading. They’ve taken to going late to the Covent Garden Market and buying when the traders reduce their prices to get rid of the stuff. It ain’t the top-quality veg they’re used to selling, but it’s cheap, and that’s what the women want.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know that.’ Jenny was even more worried about her friends now. ‘Ivy didn’t tell me.’

‘Ah, well, she wouldn’t. They probably haven’t said much to her, so as not to worry her. Get some suet and flour for dumplings. That’ll fill a corner up.’

Just then Glad came in. ‘The whole street’s going to get together this evening. Nearly everyone here have
lost their jobs, so we’re going to band together and see if we can help each other out.’

‘Good idea, Glad.’ Ma nodded approval. ‘Me and Jen’s just been racking our brains as well.’

‘Where are you going to meet?’ Jenny asked. ‘I’ll try and get Ma there.’

‘We’ve already thought of that. Ma, you can sit in your doorway and we’ll all gather outside here.’

‘You mind they don’t trample on my step.’

‘I’ll warn them.’ Glad was laughing as she left.

‘You and your step. You’re a saucy old devil, do you know that?’ Jenny bent and kissed Ma’s cheek.

A wicked chuckle was the only answer to that.

Jenny set off to see how much food she could buy for the least amount of money, feeling ridiculously light-hearted, considering the dire straits they were all in.

She could hear Fred and Stan hollering their produce at the tops of their voices when she was still quite a distance from them. How anyone understood what they were saying was a complete mystery to Jenny. By the time she stopped in front of them she was giggling. Cockney slang was hard enough, but the costermonger’s language was even worse.

When Fred saw her, he beckoned her to come behind the stall they were serving from, and Stan, who was dealing with a customer, gave her a cheeky wink.

‘Jen, my pet.’ Fred hugged her, then held her away from him so he could look into her face. ‘Ron’s just come and told us you and Ivy have lost your jobs.
I’m right sorry. But you’re not to fret. Something will turn up.’

‘Of course it will.’ Jenny gave what she hoped was a confident smile as Stan came over. ‘How’s trade today?’

‘A bit slow,’ Stan said. ‘But that’s only to be expected. People are counting the pennies now, but we’re getting by.’

‘Good.’ Jenny studied the stall, deciding what would be best to buy. ‘I’d like two pounds of King Edwards, please. A couple of carrots and onions …’

‘You going to make a stew?’ Fred asked, as he weighed the potatoes.

‘Yes, and I’ll put some dumplings in with it. If I make a large pot, then it will do for a couple of days.’

Fred tipped the vegetables in her basket, and then dived in a box under the stall. ‘I’ve got a swede here. It’s a bit past its best, but will do nicely in a stew.’

‘Thanks, Fred.’ Jenny sighed as she looked at the produce. ‘Now, what can I have for greens today?’

‘How about a bit of spinach?’ Stan grinned. ‘That’ll build up Ma’s strength.’

The look Jenny gave him was one of mock horror. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea? Her language is getting terrible again. And she’s told Glad to warn everyone not to mess up her step at the meeting tonight.’

The men roared. ‘That sounds more like the Ma Adams we all know,’ Fred said, winking at Jenny with affection. ‘I don’t think she’d have lasted this winter without you.’

‘I wasn’t going to let her die, because for all her cussed ways I do love her.’ Jenny opened her purse. ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Nothing.’

As Fred turned away, Jenny caught hold of his arm. ‘I won’t take the veg unless you let me pay. I’ve got enough money.’

‘All right, Jen, just give us a tanner.’

She gave him a shilling, disappearing into the crowd before he could protest. Her next stop was the butcher, Mr Walters. He also sold fish, and Jenny went to see what he had in today.

‘Hello, Jen,’ Mr Walters greeted her. ‘How’s Ma now?’

‘Getting stronger every day. I thought I’d buy her a piece of smoked haddock.’ She smiled at the shopkeeper, suddenly realizing that the whole community had really accepted her. And it wasn’t because of wealth or social position. They had taken Jenny Baker to their hearts because they liked her. It was a wonderful feeling.

He cut off a slice of fish and held it up. ‘How’s that, or do you want a bit more?’

‘No, that’s lovely, thanks.’

‘I hear you and Ivy have lost your jobs,’ he said, as he wrapped the haddock.

‘I’m afraid so.’ After a quick check of the money she had left in her purse, Jenny said, ‘I’ll take four of your pork sausages as well, please.’

‘I’ve got a nice ham bone if you’d like it to make a stew with. It’s still got a bit of meat on it.’

‘Oh, I’d like that. How much?’

‘Tuppence to you, Jen.’ Mr Walters smiled gently. ‘Can’t have Ma going downhill again, can we?’

‘Dear me, no,’ Jenny replied drily as she put the purchases in the basket. After paying Mr Walters, she left with a wave of her hand and headed for the grocer’s and baker’s. She really was doing very well with the shopping today, and the ham bone was a real treat. She might even be able to make the stew do for three days! They would have some nourishing food for a few days, and that was as far ahead as she was prepared to look at the moment. It would be interesting to see what happened at the meeting tonight.

Everyone in the street turned up, and, with Ma sitting regally in her doorway guarding her sparkling step, ways to survive the crisis were discussed. But there seemed little anyone could do except try to help the most needy amongst them. Ron and another young man, Jimmy, decided they would go out on their bikes with placards hung from the handlebars, offering to do gardening or any odd jobs.

‘It’ll be better than sitting on our backsides feeling sorry for ourselves,’ Ron declared stoutly.

‘I’ve heard there are things called soup kitchens in some places,’ Jenny said. ‘Couldn’t we at least get food for the children from them?’

‘There ain’t none round here,’ the woman from No. 34 told her. ‘The nearest one’s a bus ride away in Camden, and we can’t afford to waste pennies on bus fares.’

‘Anyway that’s degrading,’ her husband muttered. ‘That’ll be the last straw. We does have our pride.’

‘Don’t talk rot,’ Stan snapped. ‘Pride won’t fill your bellies.’

‘Too right,’ Fred said. ‘Look at our Jen. Been brought up a lady, but she wasn’t too proud to scrub floors when her family lost all their money.’

‘And that’s the kind of guts that’s going to get us through this.’ Ma surveyed her neighbours sternly. ‘Poverty ain’t no stranger to us, but this is a real bad time, and we got to see that the kids don’t suffer too much.’

‘That’s all right for you to talk, Ma.’ One man was swaying on his feet, looking belligerent. ‘I can’t see you doing much about it.’

Ma bristled. ‘You come here, Billy Watkins, and I’ll show what I can do. And where did you get money to get drunk this early in the evening?’

‘None of your bloody business!’ He staggered his way back to the pub.

‘He ain’t gonna be any use while he’s in that state,’ Glad remarked. ‘I’ll sort him out tomorrow. Now has anyone got any sensible ideas?’

There was a surge of suggestions. The women would see if they could get any sewing or take in washing; the men would start touting for work – any kind of work.

‘What we need is someone with money who’d set up a help centre near here,’ Mrs Preston from five doors along said. ‘It ain’t just us in this street what’s suffering. It’s the whole blasted country now.’

‘We’re just going to have to tighten our belts and do the best we can.’ Fred took a cigarette packet from his pocket, saw it was empty, screwed it up and tossed it in the air. ‘That’s one thing I’m gonna have to do without for a start. But things are bound to pick up again.’

With mutters that this couldn’t last for ever, they finished the meeting and everyone returned to their homes.

Jenny helped Ma back to her comfy armchair and shut the front door, mulling over the idea of a place where people in dire need could go for help.

‘You’re quiet, ducky,’ Ma said.

‘Sorry.’ Jenny smiled at her. ‘I was just thinking that I’d like to have seen you give that man a clip around the ear.’

‘Ah, there was a day when I would have done it too. When things get rough, some men try to escape with drink, but it don’t work, Jen. The next day they sober up and the troubles are still there, only worse because they’ve spent money that should have been used to feed their families. You can’t run from these things, but you of all people know that, don’t you, pet?’

Jenny nodded.

‘Any chance of a cup of cocoa?’ Ma yawned.

‘I was just going to get it. I’ve got some biscuits as well. Broken ones, of course.’

‘Smashing. Don’t matter about them being broken. We chews them up anyway.’ Ma caught Jenny’s hand as she went to walk by. ‘Don’t you fret none. Everything’s going to be just fine.’

Jenny bent and kissed her cheek. ‘Have you been reading the tea leaves again?’

‘And right interesting they were too.’ Then Ma gave a deep laugh and another yawn.

18

October 1931

‘How are we doing, Jake?’ Matt perched on the end of his boss’s desk when everyone else had left the garage. They had struggled through the summer, and with autumn here the spectre of unemployment was raising its head again.

‘We’re paying our way – just. But without you propping up the business we’d have gone under weeks ago.’ Jake ran a hand through his thinning hair. ‘But I’m afraid you’re going to lose your money, lad, ’cos I don’t know how much longer we can keep going.’

‘I’ve got an idea about that.’ Matt stood up. ‘Come with me.’

He led his boss to the front of the garage and swept his hand out. There was a large concrete yard where people parked their cars when bringing them in for repair.

When Matt didn’t speak, Jake frowned. ‘So?’

‘We could knock down that low wall and leave a wide-open space so people could wander in straight off the pavement.’

Jake looked bemused. ‘Why would they want to do that?’

‘To have a look at the second-hand cars we’ve got for sale.’ Matt shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders, hardly able to control his enthusiasm, but he mustn’t push too hard. ‘People are selling their cars to raise money, and we could pick up quality vehicles cheaply.’

‘But who’s going to buy them? Everyone’s broke, Matt.’ Jake spoke as if the boy standing beside him had lost his mind.

‘No, they’re not. It’s only the poor unemployed devils who are on the breadline.’ Matt turned to face Jake. ‘There’s still money around in the more affluent classes. In fact some of them are doing very well and I think we should take advantage of that.’

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