Secrets to Keep (21 page)

Betty started to cry. ‘Oh, please don’t be cross with him, our Aidy,’ she blubbered. ‘He only did it to help you. I was only trying to help too. That’s why I never came home straight after school, like you told me to.’

Aidy glared at her incredulously. ‘How can you think that playing truant is helping me, you stupid girl?’ she barked. ‘I’m in trouble now with the Board man, for not making sure George was at school.’ Then something Betty had said registered with her. ‘What do you mean, you were only trying to help too and that’s why you never came straight home from school?’ She looked at them both suspiciously. ‘Just what is it that you two have been up to?’ They were both looking everywhere but at her so she bellowed, ‘For God’s sake, will you just tell me?’

Betty gave her brother a hefty nudge in his ribs. ‘You do it ’cos you’re the eldest, George.’

He looked up at his elder sister for several long moments before he dared to murmur: ‘Working.’

‘Working! What do you mean, you’ve been working?’

He hung his head. ‘I overheard you telling Gran you’d lost yer job, so I thought if I could earn some money while you got set on in another, you wouldn’t be so worried. I forgot about the Board man. When I told Betty what I was up to so she could cover for me, she wanted to help too so she’s been doing it after school.’

‘I’ve bin running errands for the neighbours,’ Betty told Aidy. ‘I’ve made one shilling and tuppence up to now. I was hoping to have two bob to give you by Friday. Not as much as George has made, but it all helps, dunnit?’

Aidy was gawping at them both, astounded. She shot a look at Bertha and saw she too was utterly astonished by this news. Returning her attention to her siblings, guilt filled her. Her emotions overspilled. With tears of gratitude rolling down her face, Aidy pulled them to her, hugging them both fiercely. Over the tops of their heads she saw their grandmother was crying too. Sensing another presence, she looked over and saw Marion had arrived back. Legs crossed, she was looking worriedly at them all, not quite knowing what was going on.

Aidy ordered her, ‘You come here and get a hug too.’ When Marion was encircled in her arms she said to them all, ‘I really should be very angry with
you. But how can I be when all you were trying to do was help?’

Aidy eventually straightened up and in a tender voice addressed them all. ‘You all already do what you can to help out.’ And they did, by plaguing the greengrocer on a Saturday evening as he was shutting up for any perishable vegetables he was throwing out; by following the coal cart for dropped lumps, and collecting the horse’s droppings to sell on to men who had allotments; by keeping their ears open to learn where any wood was going begging; by running errands for the neighbours, and any other things they could do when opportunities presented themselves to earn extra coppers. ‘What you all do helped Mam enormously, and now it does me.’

She smiled at the girls. ‘You two go and finish setting the table for me. I want to speak to George.’ When they had gone off to do her bidding, she asked him, ‘Who employed you? You’re only ten years old.’

‘Nearly eleven,’ he corrected her.

‘Still not old enough by law to stop going to school. You have to be fourteen. You look nowhere near that. Whoever you lied to to get the job, must have known he was breaking the law.’

‘I didn’t need to lie about me age – I wasn’t asked how old I was. I just asked if there was any work going and got set straight on, sorting out the scrap. I can’t say as I enjoyed it. I’m a bit glad I got found
out. It was such hard work! Some of them big bits were so heavy … Me legs are covered in bruises. I never got to stop all day, ’cept ten minutes at lunchtime to gobble down me sandwich. When I leave school, I ain’t going to work for no scrappy, that’s for sure.’

Aidy was determined he wasn’t going to either. She was going to make sure her brother was equipped to achieve far greater things than sorting scrap metal for a living. Fury rose within her against the unknown person who had abused her brother’s need to earn a pittance by giving him back-breaking tasks to do.

‘Who was it you were working for?’ she insisted on knowing.

‘Gibbons’ scrap yard,’ he told her.

She knew the place. It was not far from where her mother-in-law used to live. It was a known fact that all the firms that operated in that district were owned by swindlers and crooks. You only dealt with their like out of desperation. ‘How much did Gibbons pay you?’

‘He ain’t paid me n’ote yet. Said he’d give me ten shilling on Friday night … that’s tomorrow … as long as I’d proved me worth. Well, I
have
proved me worth to him. I’ve worked me guts out.’

And Aidy strongly suspected sly Mr Gibbons had no intention of ever paying a penny for that week of hard labour. Well, over her dead body he wouldn’t!
She stepped over to the armchair and grabbed up her handbag from beside it.

‘Betty, there’s cheese pie ready in the oven. Dish it up and put George’s and mine back in the oven to keep hot. George, you’re coming with me. We won’t be long,’ she told them all.

Bertha didn’t need to ask where she was going.

They arrived at Gibbons’ scrap yard just as the owner himself was about to shut and padlock the heavy iron entrance gates for the night.

Alf Gibbons was a sixty-year-old, thick-set man with a matted greying beard and grizzled hair that resembled a bird’s nest. His shabby clothes were stained with oil and dirt, a foul stench coming from them, and they obviously hadn’t seen soap and water since the day he had bought them. Aidy felt there was enough dirt under his fingernails to sow potatoes in. He lived in a shambles of a shack at the back of the yard, using rainwater for drinking and washing, if indeed he ever did any of that, judging by the grime ingrained in every crease of his face.

Spotting his visitors and completely ignoring the fact one was a young boy he’d had grafting hard for him all week, he growled, ‘Come back termorra. I’m shuttin’ up for the night.’

Dragging George along with her, Aidy had slipped through the gate and into the yard before Gibbons could stop her. Her face set stonily, she snapped at
him, ‘I’ll not come back tomorrow, you’ll deal with me tonight! I’ve come to inform you that George won’t be working for you any longer, and to collect the money you owe him.’

Gibbons didn’t even bother to look at George. With a sly grin on his face, he responded, ‘He’s just a kid. I don’t employ kids.’

She shot back at him, ‘You employed
this
kid. You’ve had him slaving like a navvy for you for four days with hardly a break. Now, you’ll pay him what he’s due.’

Gibbons leaned towards her, a menacing glint in his eyes, a smirk on his face. ‘I ain’t paying him n’ote. It’s my word against his. Now scarper, lady, afore I make yer sorry you came.’

A furious George bunched one fist. Shaking it at Alf, he yelled, ‘Oi, don’t you speak to my sister like that or you’ll regret it!’

Alf Gibbons issued a nasty laugh ‘Oh, I’m real scared, sonny.’ He gave Aidy a shove on her shoulder. ‘Now get off my land before I bodily remove yer both.’

Aidy had anticipated this reaction and was prepared for it. ‘All right, I’ll go, Mr Gibbons. But just to warn you, you’d better be prepared for another visit very shortly.’

‘From the police?’ he scoffed. ‘You’ve no proof whatsoever that lad was working for me, so yer wasting yer time fetching them.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t dream of wasting police time, Mr Gibbons. Living around these parts, I trust you know Pat Nelson?’

It amused Aidy to catch the flash of fear in his eyes at the mention of that name, just as she’d anticipated. He eyed her suspiciously. ‘Yeah, I know of Pat Nelson. I’ve had a few dealings with her. Mostly with her old man, though, buying scrap metal off him. What’s she got to do with this?’

‘If you’ve had dealings with her then I trust you know what kind of woman she is, Mr Gibbons. It’s just you might be interested to learn that George is her grandson,’ she lied with no compunction. ‘He’s her favourite, and she isn’t going to like the fact that you’re trying to swindle him out of his pay.’

Gibbons stared frozen faced at Aidy for a moment before a beam split his face, revealing cigarette-stained, crooked teeth. Slapping George on the back, he said jocularly, ‘Why didn’t you let on you was Pat’s grandkid? Just a misunderstanding, all this.’ He thrust one dirty hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a handful of change, hurriedly counting out silver and copper amounting to seven shillings and sixpence which he then held out to George. ‘No point in calling by hoping for any more work, son. Things are real bad at the moment, what with this recession.’

It was Aidy who took the money from him and
quickly assessed the amount. ‘Oh, I think you’ve made a mistake, Mr Gibbons. Obviously mistook the tanners for shillings and the shillings for half-crowns.’

‘What d’yer mean?’ he snapped at her.

‘Seven and six in exchange for four days’ hard graft? Pat ain’t going to think that’s fair when I tell her.’

He nearly choked. ‘Well, just how much
was
you expecting? He is a kid, after all.’

‘At least twice that amount. After all, you got this kid doing the work of a man, didn’t you, Mr Gibbons?’

Grunting and muttering profanities under his breath, he thrust his hand once again into his trouser pocket, pulling out another handful of change along with a couple of bank notes.

As he made to count out another seven shillings and sixpence, Aidy whipped the ten-shilling note out of his hand, saying to him, ‘Save you the bother of counting out change, I’ll settle for this. And I’ll make sure to let Pat know how good you were to her favourite grandson.’ She then quickly grabbed George by the shoulder. Before Alf could detain them they had both slipped back through the gate and were hurrying off down the street.

Safely secreted around a corner, Aidy stopped and began to laugh. ‘Well, dear brother, that’ll teach that crook to think twice before he tries to fleece a youngster in future!’ Then her face took on a serious expression. Opening her clenched hand, she held the money
in it out towards George. ‘Make the most of it. You won’t be earning any more like that until you reach the proper age to leave school: fourteen. Now I really appreciate what you did, George, but truant again, for any reasons, and I’ll make it my business to make you wish you hadn’t. That clear?’

He nodded vigorously. Then said to her, ‘The money’s all for you, Aidy, to help keep us ’till you get another job.’

She smiled tenderly at him. ‘Thank you. It’ll come in very handy. But it’s only fair you should have some.’ She held out half a crown to him. She saw he was about to refuse it and ordered him, ‘Take it, George. You deserve every penny of it. Do what you like with it. Spend it on comics, sweets, whatever you want.’

His face lit up. Accepting the money, he gazed at it in delight. Half a crown was a fortune to him, the most money he’d ever had to call his own. Just to make sure it was definitely his to spend as he wished, he reaffirmed with her, ‘I can do what I like with it, really, our Aidy? Anything I want?’

Smiling, she nodded.

‘Then I’m gonna buy us all fish and chips for our tea tomorrow night. And a big pickled onion for you and a gherkin for Gran.’

Aidy was far too choked to respond.

Aidy was able to placate the Board man when he called to see her the next morning by insisting that George had been off school because he had been ill with a fever. In her worry for him, she had completely forgotten she needed to inform the school as to the reason for his absence. It was very remiss of her and she felt very guilty and sorry for her failure, but hoped the Board man would see fit not to take this matter further.

She didn’t think much to her chances of that, however. He looked the sort to her who took great delight in asserting his authority.

Her appraisal of Neville Hill was indeed correct. Normally he took his job very seriously and would have had her hauled before the Board for them to deal with her laxness as they saw fitting. But, luckily for Aidy, that morning, on his way to see her, he had found a ten-shilling note in the gutter as he was crossing the road. He’d beaten a woman who had also spotted it, snatching it up, to his glee and her fury. His mind was so busy deciding just how he was going to spend his windfall … he certainly wasn’t going to tell his penny-pinching wife … that he couldn’t wait to get this matter with the Greenwoods over with and get back to his day dreaming.

F
or at least the tenth time in the last half an hour, a highly anxious Aidy asked Bertha, ‘Do I look smart enough, Gran? Do I look like a receptionist should?’

She was wearing a plain navy kick-pleat skirt and white high-necked blouse. On her feet were chunky, low-heeled court shoes, a thick coating of shoe polish having been applied to hide their scuffs. Her newly washed hair was brushed to a shine and framed her pretty face. Not wanting to get off to a bad start, she had decided to play it safe and not wear any make-up, just in case the doctor deemed it unfitting for his receptionist while on duty.

Bertha very much hoped Aidy got this job because otherwise domestic service for tyrants like Majorie Kilner was all that remained, God forbid.

For the umpteenth time she responded, ‘You look lovely to me, gel. Really efficient-looking. The doctor would be out of his mind not to take you on.’