Riches to Rags Page 17

  ‘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.’

  ‘I still don’t see how selling cars would help us. We might end up with a yard full of vehicles we can’t get rid of.’ Jake was shaking his head, but was now studying the empty space in front of him intently.

  ‘It would be worth a try.’ Matt could sense that his boss was beginning to warm to the idea, so he pressed the point. ‘You said yourself that we can’t go on like this for much longer, and we don’t want to swell the unemployment lines, do we?’

  ‘It’s a gamble, but, as you say, it would be worth a try. Dammit, I’d do anything to keep my few remaining men in work!’ Jake sighed deeply and ran a hand over his tired eyes. ‘But how are we going to buy the cars?’

  ‘My brother Luke is willing to lend us the money to get started.’

  Jake gave a dry laugh. ‘My God, you Stannard boys are eager to throw your money away, aren’t you?’

  ‘We don’t look at it that way. I’ve discussed this with John and my father as well, and they both reckon it has a chance of succeeding.’

  ‘Do they indeed? Well, they’re very sharp businessmen …’ Jake rocked on the balls of his feet, deep in thought.

  Matt said nothing more. He could suggest this to his boss, but in the end it was Jake’s decision. If he said no, then that would be the end of it, and probably the end of the garage. It had been a good business for many years, and would be again, if they could only keep it going somehow.

  After what seemed an age, Jake spoke. ‘Perhaps we should put in a petrol pump as well?’

  ‘That’s a great idea!’ Matt smiled. ‘Is it on, then?’

  ‘Yes!’ He slapped Matt on the back and grinned. ‘We’ll start on the wall tomorrow. Now let’s go and have a pint. I’m parched.’

  The next morning Jake called a meeting and explained the plan to expand by selling good-quality second-hand cars in an effort to keep the business going. This idea met with approval and enthusiasm from the remaining staff. From a workforce of eight they were now down to only four: Harry, Steve, Alan and Matt as the apprentice. They were all eager to try anything to save their jobs.

  ‘Right.’ Jake rubbed his hands in anticipation. ‘I want Steve and Alan to demolish that wall out the front, and Harry and Matt to go and buy us some cars.’

  Harry grinned at Matt. ‘We’ll enjoy that, won’t we?’

  ‘I thought Matt had lost his senses when he suggested this,’ Jake continued, ‘but, after sleeping on it, I think it might work. However, lads, if we can’t make a go of it, then we’ll have a job to survive much longer.’

  ‘Don’t worry, boss.’ Steve already had a heavy mallet in his hands. ‘We’ll make it work!’

  As Steve and Alan went off to get stuck into their demolition job, Jake turned to Harry and Matt. ‘I only want the best vehicles, as we won’t be able to sell rubbish in Mayfair. Try for makes like Lagonda, Wolseley, Singer, Daimler, you know, things like that. We don’t want cheaper models unless they’re in first-class condition.’

  ‘I’ll give them a good going-over before we buy,’ Harry told him.

  ‘And while you’re doing that I’ll see if we can have a petrol pump put in.’ Jake strode back to his office actually humming a tune.

  ‘Where do we start looking?’ Harry asked Matt.

  ‘I’ve bought a few newspapers, so we can look in those first. And I’ve got enough money on me to buy at least three cars. My brother Luke is loaning Jake the money to get started.’

  ‘That’s good of him.’ Harry studied Matt thoughtfully. ‘I suspect you and your family are propping us up.’

  ‘No, we’re not, Harry. We’re investing in a business we believe has a future. Once things pick up, Jake will pay us back.’

  ‘But how long will that be?’ Harry turned the page o
f a newspaper in a distracted way.

  ‘I don’t know, but we’re going to have to come out of the depression and start producing again. There are things going on in Germany I believe are dangerous.’

  ‘The Nazi movement you mean?’ Harry placed his finger over an advert to keep his place, and glanced up.

  Matt nodded.

  ‘Well, that is starting here as well,’ Harry said. ‘This Sir Oswald Mosley is saying that he’s going to save the nation.’

  Matt’s laugh was derisive. ‘That’s just what Hitler is telling the Germans, but I hope to God we don’t believe Mosley.’

  ‘I don’t think he’s got a chance. We’re having a tough time with the depression, but the British people don’t like fanatics, and that’s what he is. We’ve got an election at the end of October, and that’s only three weeks away, so we’ll find out then what the people think of his politics.’

  ‘You two found anything yet?’ Jake came up behind them.

  ‘There’s a couple of possible cars in the paper.’ He smiled at his boss, who was looking quite animated; it was some time since Matt had seen him so hopeful. He just hoped he wasn’t steering him in the wrong direction, but he’d discussed this very thoroughly with John. He trusted his elder brother’s business acumen. If this idea hadn’t stood a chance, John would have told him.

  ‘Well, get on with it, then.’ Jake glanced out at the front of the garage. ‘Those boys will soon have the wall down, and I want to see at least three cars out there tomorrow.’

  Harry and Matt scrambled to their feet as their boss tossed them a key.

  ‘You can take my car,’ he told them. ‘Oh, and by the way, the petrol pump will be installed at the end of next week. I’ll need some money from sales to pay for it.’

  ‘You’ll have it, boss,’ Harry called, as they shot out the door, eager to get their new enterprise going.

  A week later they had sold enough cars to pay for the installation of the pump, with a little over. And better still, the pump was being well used in this wealthy area, and word had got round that they were buying cars. People were now bringing their vehicles to the garage, hoping to sell them. They did buy the occasional Austin Seven or Tin Lizzy, as they were jokingly referred to, if they were in good condition. Now Jake was always out the front, selling and talking to people, and seemed in his element. The rest of them were working hard all day, repairing and restoring the vehicles to get them ready for sale.

  Once again the workshop was alive with tuneful whistles and friendly banter. They all knew it might not last, but it had started well, and for the moment the worry was forgotten.

  ‘What’s this?’ Ma peered at the plate Jenny had just put in front of her, pulling a face.

  ‘Porridge.’

  Ma stuck her spoon in the grey mess and it stood up on its own. She gave Jenny a withering look. ‘Is it supposed to be this thick?’

  ‘Erm …’ Jenny placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands as she studied their breakfast. ‘I don’t think I’ve got it quite right yet.’

  ‘You don’t think? Jen, girl, you could plaster the walls with that.’

  ‘Perhaps if I put a drop more hot water in it?’

  ‘Don’t bother.’ Ma tugged the spoon free, dug out a small piece of the porridge and put it cautiously in her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a while and then swallowed it. ‘Tastes a bit like cement, but I’ve had worse, and it will fill a corner up.’

  Jenny eyed her own plate with misgiving. Porridge had seemed a cheap, filling idea, but now she wasn’t so sure. Still, they couldn’t afford to waste anything.

  ‘Eat it, ducky. It ain’t so bad, and you’ll make a better job of it next time.’

  They tackled the food in silence, and when it was finished Ma sat back and grimaced. ‘Sits a bit heavy in the stomach, don’t it?’

  There was no arguing with that, and Jenny nodded as she poured two more cups of tea to wash it down.

  ‘What are you going to do today?’ Ma drained her cup and put it back on the table.

  ‘My mother’s getting married at eleven this morning, so I thought I’d go to the church and see. I’ll keep well out of sight, though I doubt if anyone would recognize me now.’

  ‘You’re right there.’ Ma’s expression sobered. ‘You’ve got terrible skinny, pet.’

  ‘In that case I’d better eat some more of that porridge,’ Jenny joked.

  Ma’s deep chuckle made her smile. ‘You don’t have to worry about me, Ma. I might have lost weight, but I’m healthy enough.’

  ‘I knows that, ducky. It’s just that I don’t like to see you putting up with such hardship. We’ve all been born to it, but you ain’t.’

  Jenny leant over and kissed the elderly woman’s cheek. ‘You fuss too much about me. I’m young and strong.’

  ‘’Course you are.’ Ma gave her a cheeky wink. ‘Before you go out, do you think I could have another cup of tea and a bicky? That’s if we’ve got any left, of course.’

  ‘I’m sure I can manage that.’ Jenny was smiling gently as she took the dishes into the kitchen.

  An hour later she left for St George’s Church in Bloomsbury, where her mother’s wedding was to be held.

  The bus dropped her off about a mile from the church, and Jenny strolled along, gazing at the elegant houses. On reaching the one that had been theirs, she stopped for a moment, hoping the people now living there were happier than her parents had been. As she approached the church, she pulled her pudding-basinshaped hat down to cover more of her face. It was strange, but as she walked past the smart houses, she felt as out of place here as she had the first time she’d gone to Lambeth. She was a different person now. The last two years had changed her, but not for the worse, she thought. In that time she had grown from an unworldly frightened sixteen-year-old to a confident eighteen-year-old. She smiled to herself as she remembered her birthday in August. Glad had bought an iced bun and stuck a candle in it for her to blow out, then it had been carefully shared out amongst them all. Ma’s small room had vibrated with laughter. It was the happiest birthday she had ever had!

  She reached the church and slid into the middle of a crowd gathered outside. People did love to see a wedding – anyone’s wedding. The service was already under way, and Jenny could hear the organ playing the familiar hymn ‘Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah’. She thought it a strange hymn to choose for a wedding, but it was a popular favourite.

  In about fifteen minutes the guests began to file out of the church, and Jenny shrank back as she recognized her Aunt Gertrude. She still had the same sour expression on her face. Then Albert Greaves appeared, talking to a young girl. Jenny gave a quiet snort of amusement. Perhaps he’d found himself another victim! Then her mother walked out, holding the arm of an elderly man – very elderly.

  Jenny searched her mother’s face, trying to find within herself some spark of affection for this woman who had brought her into the world. It came as quite a jolt to realize that there was nothing there. It was as if she were looking at a stranger. But this stranger had abandoned her child when she’d been in need of a kind word, some indication that she loved her. In her selfish horror at being left penniless, Elizabeth Winford had turned away from her child. Jenny didn’t think she could ever forgive her for that.

  With one last look at these people she no longer knew, or wanted to know, Jenny Baker turned away from them for ever.

  19

  They were managing, but only just, and, with the cold weather nearly on them, Jenny was sick with worry. Ma was extremely frail now, but her tongue was still as sharp, which was a comfort. Ron and Jimmy had been able to find an occasional job of gardening, but there wouldn’t be much of that now until the spring. Everyone in the street was gathering together anything they could use to keep a fire going when it got really cold. Any food that wasn’t perishable was being carefully hoarded. Everyone joked that they were preparing for a siege, and that’s just what it felt like to Jenny. Th
is winter was going to be long and hard, and they all knew it. Fred and Stan were having a tough time keeping the stall going, and more often than not didn’t earn enough to buy enough fresh goods for the next day’s trading. Unemployment was still growing, and there was no sign of things improving in the near future.

  Edna had found herself a young man, and Jenny had seen her only a couple of times lately. Each time they’d met, her friend had brought her a small parcel of food from cook, and she was very grateful for their kindness. Edna had tried to persuade her to get out of Lambeth, but Jenny had firmly refused. In this humble house, in the middle of a depression, she had found kindness, affection and love. She wouldn’t leave.

  A blast of cold wind whistled through the back door, and Jenny closed it quickly. A centre where people could go for help would be a good thing. Somewhere warm to sit if they couldn’t heat their own homes, a bowl of hot soup and perhaps second-hand clothes …

  Ma was fast asleep, two cats wailing at each other the only sound from outside. Jenny sat at the kitchen table and closed her eyes. She had visited Lambeth Council’s offices to beg for their help, but they had so many people in need that they obviously didn’t know which way to turn. The Salvation Army had been next on her list. They had been kind and understanding, but they too were already stretched to breaking point.

  Jenny stood up and walked quietly up the narrow stairs to her room. There was one other thing she could do, of course. Pride had kept her back, but in this situation there wasn’t room for pride. Tomorrow she’d make that visit!

  The house in Bruton Street looked exactly the same as when Jenny had fled from it a year ago. The step was immaculate, and the brass doorknocker gleamed in the watery sun. She wondered whose job it was now.

  Slipping round to the servants’ entrance, Jenny pushed a note under the door for Edna. It was just to warn her that she was here. She hadn’t mentioned this visit to her friend, and she didn’t want her to be taken by surprise. Then she went back to the front door, straightened her hat and smoothed the creases from her coat. It was the same one she’d bought at the pawnbroker’s with Fred and Glad, and was even shabbier now, but she didn’t care.