A Woman’s Fortune. Josephine Cox

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СКАЧАТЬ started pulling fish faces, his mouth silently working like a guppy until Peter gently cuffed him round the ear.

      ‘No, love, I only meant—’

      A young woman with a baby in a pram and a toddler clutching her arm came along the pavement and the Carters moved aside to let her pass.

      ‘Good morning,’ the woman said, smiling. ‘Nice to see the old shop opened up.’

      ‘Morning,’ said Michael. He peered into the pram, turning on the charm in front of the pretty lady. ‘Now that’s a bonny baby … We’re new here and know nowt about the place. What was the shop, do you know?’

      ‘Yes, I can hear you’re not from round here,’ said the woman, but kindly. ‘It was a general household store. Mr Pendle sold buckets, brooms, seeds, string – you know the kind of thing. There’s still a call for it but people go to the new shop in the village now. Mr Pendle was old and couldn’t keep the business going when his health started to fail. That was a while ago. I’d heard that Mr Bailey was talking about finding new tenants.’

      ‘Mr Bailey?’ prompted Sue.

      ‘Frederick Bailey. The owner.’ The woman looked puzzled, evidently expecting Sue to know that.

      ‘Oh, aye? Well, Mrs …?’

      ‘Lambert. Josie Lambert.’ She held out her hand to shake Sue’s.

      ‘Mrs Lambert, we’re all very pleased to meet you.’ Sue introduced herself and her family. ‘Would you care for a cup of tea? I’m sure we can find summat for the little ’un, too, though I’m afraid we’ve nowt suitable for the baby,’ she added. ‘It’s nice to meet new folk and we know no one around here. If you have a few minutes we’d be glad to learn about the old place and this Mr Bailey.’

      ‘Yes, I can spare a few moments. Thank you.’ Mrs Lambert parked the pram and lifted the baby out, murmuring to her and smoothing her fine blonde hair. ‘Come along, Archie,’ she told the toddler, smiling.

      ‘Archie – that’s nice,’ said Evie, taking the child’s hand and leading him in, though he clutched his mother’s skirt in his other little fist.

      ‘Excuse the mess. We only got here last night,’ said Jeanie.

      ‘It’s all right,’ said the friendly woman, though she perched rather tentatively on the chair in the dismal kitchen. ‘So how did you come to be here if you don’t know Church Sandleton?’

      Michael and Jeanie exchanged looks.

      ‘A friend of a friend had heard of a job hereabouts that might suit,’ said Michael vaguely. ‘It’s a pretty part of the country … good place to bring up children,’ he improvised, looking at young Archie and his baby sister.

      ‘Would that be the job at Clackett’s market garden?’ asked Mrs Lambert, accepting a cup of Ribena for Archie and tea for herself. ‘I heard Mr Clackett was looking for some help.’

      ‘If the job’s still going,’ said Michael. Having been working all morning at the front he couldn’t have failed to notice the sign for Clackett’s a few yards further down on the other side of the road.

      Sue gave him a meaningful look. ‘So do you know Mr Bailey?’ she asked Josie Lambert. ‘We haven’t met him yet.’

      ‘Oh, no, I don’t know him personally. He lives in Redmond but he’s seen about the village sometimes. Drives a smart car and owns here and a couple of other properties.’

      ‘Well, no doubt he’ll be round before long,’ said Sue, and, having extracted what information she could about the landlord, she changed the subject to the village generally while Jeanie cooed over baby Nancy and little Archie.

      As soon as Josie Lambert had waved goodbye with promises to call again when Jeanie was settled, Sue turned to Michael.

      ‘Right, you get over to that market garden, lad, and see what this job’s about.’

      ‘But I know nowt about growing vegetables,’ he protested.

      ‘Who said you’d be growing the veg? You won’t know if you don’t go.’ She shooed him out of the door, then turned to Jeanie. ‘Now, I’ve an idea about the front room. Come through and see what you think. You, too, Evie. It was us women that held the place together in Shenty Street and we can make a go of it here with luck and a fair wind. And as I said earlier, this could be our lucky day.’

      ‘It’s looking that way so far,’ Peter said, grabbing his whistle and playing a jaunty fanfare. ‘Come on, Bob. I’ll wash, you dry, and Grandma can think up ways to make our fortune.’

      Billy immediately recognised Evie’s neat round handwriting on the envelope Ada Taylor had left on the kitchen table for him to find when he got in from work. He snatched it up as he called out to her that he was home, then went upstairs to read it in private.

       Pendle’s

       High Street

       Church Sandleton

       Near Redmond

       Thursday

       Dear Billy,

       I hope you and your mother are well. I’m missing you like mad and I hope you’re missing me, too.

       I can’t believe so much has happened since we waved off Fergus Sullivan on Sunday evening. Dad’s got a job – the first one he tried for! It’s at the market garden across the road and he’s helping to pick the crops. There’s a huge amount of them at the moment and Dad says it gets very hot in the glasshouses. He says it’s backbreaking work, especially the strawberries, but luckily they’re nearly finished. Another really good thing is that Mr Clackett, the owner, gives Dad some of the stuff he says won’t sell so we’re eating lots of very ripe fruit and vegetables.

       The boys are on holiday from school and play outside all day. Pete is making friends with Mr Clackett’s son, Martin, and Bob usually tags along with them. There are miles of fields for them to play in around here as it’s proper countryside.

       Where we’re living is an old shop, which makes a strange house with the shop window, but Grandma has hatched a plan for her, Mum and me to open a little business. I’m so excited that we’ll be working together again. We’ve looked around the village and there’s no one advertising their dressmaking services or doing alterations and repairs so we think we may have found what Grandma calls ‘an opening’. We need to get in touch with Mr Bailey, who owns the building, to see if that’s all right, but so far we haven’t met him.

       It’s nice here but it doesn’t feel like home and I don’t know if it ever will. It’s so different from everything we know and love in Bolton. The people in the village are friendly but we’re all missing you and the Sullivans and Mrs Marsh – our kind of people.

       Please give my best to your mother, and write soon. I shall look for your letter every СКАЧАТЬ