Riches to Rags Read online

  By the time he arrived home around four o’clock, Matt was feeling very mellow indeed and a little unsteady on his feet.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ his mother said when she saw him, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. ‘Sit down, Matt, before you fall down.’

  He eased himself into a chair, grinning. ‘I’m not that drunk, Mother.’

  ‘Really?’ She pulled a bell rope and ordered a pot of strong coffee. ‘You do remember we’re having a party tonight instead of on New Year’s Eve, don’t you?’

  A rumble of laughter came from Luke. ‘I don’t think Matt will mind Gloria Tremain coming tonight. She might even look attractive through the haze of alcohol.’

  ‘She isn’t coming, is she?’ he asked his mother in a horrified tone.

  ‘I can hardly exclude her. Her parents are good friends of ours.’

  When the coffee arrived, a cup was poured and handed to Matt. He drank it obediently, muttering under his breath.

  His brother helped himself to a coffee, still grinning. ‘You’d think she’d have got the message by now that you can’t stand her.’

  John and their father arrived at that moment.

  Gilbert kissed his wife. ‘Is that coffee?’

  ‘Yes, dear.’ She poured for her husband and son. ‘We were just talking about Gloria. She will keep pursuing Matt, and he really doesn’t care for her.’

  Her husband sat down with a weary sigh. ‘She’s set her heart on becoming part of this family. If she continues to get nowhere with Matt, she’ll probably try Luke or John.’

  ‘She’ll be wasting her time!’ both brothers said at once.

  Matt giggled at their vehemence, and his father eyed him suspiciously. ‘Are you drunk?’

  ‘Not quite, but I have had a few drinks. Jake and the others insisted on celebrating the end of my first year’s apprenticeship.’

  ‘Good Lord, is it a year?’ His father shook his head in disbelief. ‘Where has the time gone?’

  Mercifully, his mother had placed him well away from Gloria, so Matt was able to enjoy the dinner without her constantly claiming his attention. He had never been able to understand why she had set her sights on him. If she were ambitious, John, as the eldest, would be the logical choice. But perhaps she had enough sense to realize that he would be the most difficult one to snare. Luke wouldn’t take her seriously, so that had left him.

  As soon as the meal was over, Gloria made straight for him.

  ‘When are you going back to university?’ she asked, smiling brightly.

  ‘Never,’ was his short reply.

  That declaration removed the smile from her face, and her eyes opened wide in disbelief. ‘But you can’t keep working as a mechanic.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘My father has always said that you’re the cleverest one and will probably be a professor one day.’

  ‘I don’t want to be a bloody professor!’ he growled. Three glasses of wine during the meal had topped up his alcohol level, and he was in no mood for this. His family had accepted his decision. They knew how much he loved what he was doing and never mentioned his returning to university to take up his studies again.

  ‘You’re drunk,’ Gloria said haughtily. ‘You can’t mean to work in greasy overalls for the rest of your life!’

  ‘Oh, but I do.’ He glared at her. ‘Anyway, I don’t see how I spend my life can have anything to do with you.’

  ‘If you are going to be that stupid, then you’re not worth bothering with.’

  ‘Good,’ he snapped and watched her flounce off, nose in the air. He knew he had been extremely rude, but it was the only way to get rid of her. The subtle approach didn’t work with her.

  ‘I see you’ve upset Gloria.’ Luke handed him a drink.

  ‘I do believe I have.’ Matt shook with silent laughter. ‘She doesn’t want anything to do with a lowly car mechanic. Perhaps she’ll try John now.’

  ‘Not a chance.’ Luke refilled their glasses from a bottle he was holding in his hand. ‘Our big brother’s too interested in Emma Holdsworth.’

  ‘Is he?’ Matt peered across the room at John talking to the elegant girl with fair hair and rather nice turquoise eyes. He was leaning towards her and smiling. ‘Good heavens, I do believe you’re right. He’s kept that quiet. How long has this been going on?’

  ‘About three months.’ Luke gave Matt a sad look. ‘You’re too interested in your messy engines. There is life outside of that garage, you know.’

  ‘Really?’ Matt teased. ‘I must have a look sometime.’

  16

  Ma’s small front room was packed and even the extra chairs from next door weren’t enough. Young Alice was quite happy sitting on the floor with her baby brother, Bert, and everyone else had perched wherever they could. Glad, Ivy and Jenny had pooled their money to give everyone a good Christmas Day. They had a chicken, vegetables and a little fruit from Fred and Stan’s market stall, beer for the men, milk stout for the women and lemonade for Ivy’s two children. And the crowning glory of this sumptuous meal was a pudding that Edna had brought round as a present from Mrs Peters, the Stannards’ cook. Jenny was touched that they should think kindly enough of her to send this gift for Christmas, one she could share with her friends. Fred had produced a small bottle of brandy, which was poured over the pudding and set alight, with cries of delight from everyone.

  Jenny had sent a card thanking Mrs Peters and wishing everyone at the house a happy Christmas. She had also sent her mother a card, telling her that she was all right. She realized now just how unhappy she must have been, with her husband having another family in America. To maintain the outward appearance of a stable family home would have been a struggle.

  ‘Come on, Uncle Stan, play for us.’

  The shrill voice of Ivy’s young daughter caught Jenny’s attention as she dragged her uncle to the piano in the corner of the room.

  When Stan began to thump out the popular tunes of the day, everyone jumped to their feet and started dancing. Even Ma hauled herself up and with Fred’s help joined in. ‘Come on, Auntie Jen!’ Alice dragged her to her feet, and at six years old made a passable attempt at a waltz. Baby Bert, not quite two, was wriggling and laughing in Glad’s arms.

  This was the happiest Jenny had been since she’d run away from home. She had great affection and respect for Fred, Glad and their family, but she loved Ma. The bond between them had grown over the months, and now nothing would make her leave this outspoken elderly woman.

  ‘That’s enough of that!’ Ma said as Fred helped her back to her chair. ‘I think that calls for another glass of stout, and then we can give out the presents.’

  When everyone had a drink in their hands, Ma told Jenny to do the honours. The presents were, of course, modest and mostly hand-made, but that didn’t make any difference to the pleasure they all felt. The children had two toys each, and their cries of delight showed how thrilled they were.

  ‘I want to propose a toast to Jen,’ Ma said, claiming everyone’s attention. ‘This young girl has made my life worth living again. She takes my sharp tongue in her stride, never taking umbrage, and I know she finds the work and poverty hard, but she just gets on with it.’ Ma cackled. ‘The only time I’ve ever heard her complain is when she tells me I cheat at cards.’

  That made everyone laugh.

  ‘Didn’t take her long to suss you out, then, Ma,’ Fred remarked.

  Ma’s face broke into a grin. ‘Ah, she’s right bright. Anyway, she’s real good to me and I wants to thank her properly. Here’s to you, ducky, and I hopes and prays that your future will be bright, with lots of love and good friends.’

  Jenny gazed at each in turn as they drank her health, and smiled. ‘I’ve already got those things.’

  Ma unpinned a small brooch from her dress and handed it to Jenny. It was a circle of tiny pearls, inexpensive but pretty.

  ‘Oh, Ma,’ she gasped, ‘I can’t take this. You ought to give it to one of your own family.�
� She knew this was much valued by Ma, because she wore it every day.

  ‘Ain’t got none, Jen. My hubby and me only had one daughter, and she died of diphtheria when she was three. That was a present from my Tommy when we wed, and now I’m getting near the end of my time I wants you to have it. I got enough insurance to give me a simple funeral so that won’t be needed.’ Ma gave her a stern look. ‘And I don’t want no arguing about it. I’ve given it to you in front of my friends ’cause I want them to know it’s yours now.’

  Her eyes misted over as she hugged Ma. ‘It’s the most precious gift I’ve ever received, but are you sure there isn’t anyone else you’d rather give it to?’

  Ma shook her head. ‘Since my Bessie died you’re the nearest to a daughter I’ve ever had. You’ve brought a ray of sunshine into my life and it’s right you should have it.’

  ‘I’m honoured,’ Jenny said huskily, quite overcome by this very special gift. But even more special were the sentiments expressed in the giving. She pinned it to her frock.

  ‘That looks right nice on you.’ Ma nodded in approval. ‘I’ve kept it out of the pawnbroker’s hands all these years, so I’m going to ask you not to pop it, Jen.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of parting with it.’ She pulled the pendant from under her blouse and held it out for Ma to see. ‘My father gave me this and it’s my insurance. If I desperately need money any time, this will go to the pawnbroker’s.’

  ‘Well, I hope you never have to.’ Ma patted her hand and then nodded to her empty glass. ‘How about another refill and one of those nice mince pies you’ve made?’

  Ma needed extra help to get to bed that night, because she’d worn herself out, and had a glass or two too many of her favourite stout.

  ‘That was a grand party,’ she sighed, closing her eyes. She was asleep before Jenny covered her up.

  Jenny crept downstairs and began to clear up the mess. There was wrapping paper everywhere, glasses and plates. She was surprised to see Glad in the kitchen when she staggered in with her arms full of crockery.

  ‘Oh, Glad, don’t you bother with that. It won’t take me long to wash up.’

  ‘You’ll get through it quicker with two pair of hands.’ Glad filled the sink with hot water from the kettle she’d boiled up. ‘I’m pleased Ma gave you that brooch. She knows how hard you work and is grateful for the care you’re showing her. She’s right fond of you.’

  ‘And I am of her.’ Jenny stacked the plates on the table. ‘I didn’t like taking the gift, though, but she’d have given me a real telling off if I’d refused.’

  Glad swished a glass through the water. ‘Ah, she would at that! But she really hasn’t got anyone else, Jen, and that’s the first time she’s mentioned her little daughter for many years. That was a sad loss to them, and they never had any more kids. She told me the other week that if her daughter had lived she hoped she would have grown to be just like you.’

  ‘I’m touched she thinks of me like that.’

  After drying her hands, Glad leant against the sink and faced Jenny. ‘Don’t you take no notice of her growling; she’s very fond of you. She’s coming to the end of her time and is more ill than she makes out. I hope you’re going to stay with her, Jen.’

  ‘Nothing will make me leave her. I’ll stay for as long as she needs me.’

  ‘I thought you’d say that.’ Glad kissed Jenny on the cheek. ‘Now it’s time we both got some kip.’

  The next weeks were cold, and the long dark nights were spent huddled around a small coal fire, trying to keep warm. But eventually the evenings began to draw out and there was a hint of warmth in the air at last as spring finally decided to put on a show. It was with a sense of relief that Jenny noted the signs. The three months since the start of 1931 had been worrying. Ma had been taken ill soon after Christmas, and it had seemed once or twice that they were going to lose her. However, Jenny had told her forcefully that she would not allow her to give up, and had stayed by her side, making her eat. All the neighbours had been wonderful. Fred and Stan had kept her supplied with vegetables so she could make nourishing soups; others had brought her wood and coal to keep the fire going. Jenny had insisted on paying them a small amount for each kindly gift, for she was well aware that they were depriving themselves in order to help. She was fortunate to still have the early-morning job, but many others were not so lucky. Unemployment was a great worry now, as she saw every time she walked past the employment exchange. The queues were getting longer each day, and many of the desperate people were resorting to the soup kitchens for something to eat. Her heart ached for them all. She couldn’t help wondering how many of her past acquaintances, sitting in their grand, warm houses, were aware of the suffering. Probably not many.

  ‘There.’ She tucked a blanket around Ma’s legs. ‘You’ll soon be able to have the front door open so you can see and talk to people again.’

  ‘I hopes you’ve been doing my step while I’ve been laid up.’ Ma glowered at Jenny.

  ‘It’s still the best in the street,’ she laughed. That sounded more like Ma!

  ‘Hmm, we’ll see. And how long is it since you’ve been out with your friend?’

  ‘Not for a while.’

  ‘Well, you should have. And stop poking that fire. I’m warm enough.’

  Jenny sat back on her heels and gave Ma a suspicious glance. ‘Are you spoiling for a fight?’

  ‘Who me?’ Ma looked innocent.

  Jenny giggled. ‘Yes, you.’

  ‘I’m just trying to say that you shouldn’t be here wasting your time with a crusty old woman. You ought to go back to that house you worked at … or even go home.’

  Clambering to her feet, she stood in front of Ma with a determined glint in her eyes. ‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’

  ‘The way you’re living ain’t right. I don’t want you to feel beholden to me just because I gives you that brooch at Christmas.’

  ‘I don’t feel beholden!’ Jenny sighed in exasperation. ‘I stay because I want to. And if you think I’m going to leave you, then you’re very much mistaken. For some daft reason I’ve grown to love you –’

  ‘Are you two arguing?’ Glad walked into the front room.

  ‘She gets quite shirty,’ Ma said, wiping the moisture from her eyes. ‘Can’t understand it, she was such a timid little thing when she first come. Now look at her. I’m no longer boss in my own house – do this, Ma, do that, Ma, you’re not going to die, Ma. Must be the bleeding company she’s keeping!’

  Ma cackled and Jenny felt like crying for joy. She hadn’t heard that wicked laugh for some time.

  ‘I see you’re feeling better,’ Glad said drily. ‘I’ve brought you a newspaper.’

  ‘Oh, ta. Jen can make me a nice cuppa and then read it to me.’

  As Jenny took the paper from Glad, she raised her eyebrows. ‘And she thinks she’s no longer mistress of her own house?’

  Glad winked and left with a huge smile on her face, obviously as relieved as Jenny to see and hear Ma back to her old self.

  When the tea was made, Jenny sat opposite Ma and began to read the news out loud. A lot of the reports were about unemployment, quoting a figure of around two million and rising, with no prospect of economic recovery in sight. It was a depressing subject, and she moved on to the more light-hearted stories, stopping at a picture of a tall building.

  ‘What’s that?’ Ma craned to see the paper.

  ‘It’s called the Empire State Building in New York.’ Jenny read, ‘The concrete and glass building has 102 floors and stands at a height of 1,250 feet. It’s going to be officially opened on the first of May.’

  ‘Never!’ Ma exclaimed in disbelief. ‘How can they build something that tall? It’ll fall down!’

  ‘I’m sure it won’t.’ Jenny tried to picture what it would be like inside. ‘It’s called a skyscraper.’

  ‘You wouldn’t get me in it. It can’t be safe!’

  ‘I’d love to see it and go right to th
e top. I bet the views would be wonderful.’

  ‘Of course you would be interested. I keep forgetting that you’re half American.’ The corners of Ma’s mouth twitched. ‘Though with that posh English accent it’s not surprising I didn’t remember.’

  Jenny nodded silently as memories of her father came flooding back.

  Ma reached across and took Jenny’s hand in her own, obviously sensing her troubled thoughts. ‘Your Pa didn’t need to kill himself and leave a lovely daughter like you to fend for herself. We ain’t got nothing, but we manage, and he’d have recovered in time. Wonder why he did it.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She held Ma’s hand carefully so as not to hurt her. The rheumatism had got worse over the last few months. ‘The more I think about it, the less sense it makes. I’m sure he wouldn’t have abandoned his children.’

  ‘Children?’ Ma looked up sharply. ‘You got brothers and sisters?’

  ‘Two half-brothers in America, my mother told me.’

  ‘Ah, married before, was he?’

  ‘No.’ Jenny shifted uncomfortably. ‘They must be illegitimate, because from what my mother told me I think they were born after me. My mother and father weren’t happy …’

  ‘So he had a mistress in America. Don’t look so ashamed, Jen, I’ve seen plenty of life and knows what goes on.’ Ma’s face took on a thoughtful expression. ‘If he had two families, then it don’t make sense he would leave you all.’

  ‘I agree, but that’s what happened. When my aunt said she wouldn’t take me in, I asked my mother if I could go to my father’s family in New York, but she said they wouldn’t want me either.’ Jenny dipped her head to hide the pain in her eyes. That still hurt so much.

  ‘There, there,’ Ma soothed, ‘don’t you upset yourself, duck. Things have a habit of working out right in the end. You never know, you might meet them one day, and even go to the top of that awful building. And we want and love you.’