Calico Road (21 page)

‘Yes?’

‘I’m Meg Pearson, I work here.’

‘Used to work here,’ the woman said. ‘She’s took me on now.’

‘Can I see her?’

‘I suppose so. It won’t do no good, though. She’s promised me I can stay.’

Peggy came into the shop and stood behind the counter staring at Meg. ‘You look poorly,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’m sorry about your husband. Bad luck that, because he was a good provider.’

‘I came to ask if I can have my job back.’

Peggy shook her head at once. ‘You’ll not be able to cope and I won’t pay someone as can’t be relied on. I’m a woman on my own and I have to have reliable help.’ She fumbled in the drawer under the counter and produced some coins. ‘I owe you some wages though. I’ll not have anyone saying I’ve treated you unfairly.’

When Meg didn’t hold out her hand, Peggy slapped the coins down, then turned to her companion. ‘Go and see to the kitchen fire and push the kettle on to the middle of the hob.’

Meg stared at the coins then looked at Peggy. ‘You could at least have given me a try.’

‘They say your Nelly’s sickly. Bad enough to have a baby allus wanting feeding, but to have a sickly one – no, it’d never do. I’d not have kept you on anyway after it were born.’

It took Meg a moment to gather her strength and move forward to take the coins. She had a sudden urge to hurl them back at Peggy, but couldn’t afford to give in to it so put them carefully in the drawstring purse hanging underneath her skirt then left.

She remembered to buy a loaf on the way home but she didn’t remember how she passed the rest of the day.

The following morning she woke to hear Nelly wailing beside her in the bed. Her first thought was that she had no way of earning money now and no one to turn to for help. Beyond tears, moving mechanically, she tended her daughter and let the day pass as it would.

After all, she had some savings still and would surely find another job before the money ran out . . . when she was just a little stronger . . . when she dared leave Nelly with someone else . . . when she was a little less tired.

Meg lived as frugally as she could but the coins in the pot grew fewer and fewer. She found an occasional job here and there, mostly scrubbing, washing or cleaning out shops, but couldn’t settle into permanent work because of Nelly.

The first time she came home to find her little daughter ill and Rhona gloomily predicting that the baby would die before her first birthday as so many children did, Meg nearly fell into despair. But by the time she’d carried Nelly home and got a fire burning brightly in the grate, she found anger taking over from the despair.

As the days passed she needed to cling tightly to that bright spark of anger because Nelly was very poorly, coughing and shivering, so restless that Meg could only sleep in snatches. The baby didn’t feed properly and seemed to grow frailer by the day.

Meg slept very little, her eyes always burning with the need for sleep. When she did take a nap she always woke with a jerk and a terrified look at the child lying beside her. She had to coax her daughter to suckle. When the baby was restless she rocked and cuddled her, singing to her until her voice was hoarse.

And somehow, very slowly, the child pulled through.

When the money was almost used up Meg took some of her meagre possessions to the pawn shop, refusing to deal with the woman who had replaced her and entering into a spirited bargaining session with Peggy. She got more than had at first been offered for Ben’s chair and was glad to be rid of it, for it had been a silent reminder that there used to be two of them.

‘Don’t think you’ll keep getting the better of me!’ Peggy warned her as she passed the money over. ‘It’s because you were a good worker that I’ve been soft with you this time. I shan’t be so soft next time.’

Next time! The words seemed to echo in Meg’s mind all the way home. There would be a next time, she admitted that to herself. The best she could hope for was to eke out her money until Nelly was stronger then find a proper job. The worst . . . she didn’t like to think of the worst. She was
not
letting anyone put her and Nelly into the poorhouse.

In the meantime she rented out the upstairs room to a young couple and their money helped a little.

Jane was a colourless woman and Timmo a dour fellow. They were incomers to Rochdale like she was and kept themselves to themselves, except for using the downstairs fire for cooking, as agreed.

When Meg needed to sell the settle, Timmo offered to help her carry it to the pawn shop for a penny. He was short of work that week and had been prowling round the room upstairs, she’d heard his footsteps going to and fro. He’d been in and out of the house a few times seeking work, but in vain.

Jane said she’d keep an eye on Nelly while Meg and Timmo carried the settle to the pawn shop. She was good with the baby, often watching her wistfully when Timmo wasn’t around.

In the shop he hovered behind Meg while she argued with Peggy, which made her uneasy, but he didn’t say or do anything.

‘Got yersen a new fellow?’ Peggy asked when the bargaining was over.

‘New fellow? What, Timmo? No, he and his wife have taken my upstairs room. He was just helping me carry the settle.’ And had asked payment for doing it, which wasn’t a neighbourly thing to do.

It was a lovely day so Meg waited till Timmo was back upstairs then put the coins in the money pot on the mantelpiece and went outside. She met Rhona standing on her doorstep and paused for a brief chat, explaining that she was taking Nelly out for a walk outside the town, which would be a treat for them both.

As she walked, she held the baby in her arms and enjoyed seeing her little daughter watching the world wide-eyed. She also felt pleased to see Nelly’s cheeks grow slightly pink in the rare autumn sunshine.

The outing did them both a world of good.

When Meg got back she found that her room had been ransacked and the money stolen. She pounded up the stairs but the room was bare, with no sign of Timmo and Jane or their meagre possessions.

She stood there in deep shock for a few moments, unable to think or move, then went running next door to ask Rhona if she’d seen anything.

‘I saw them move out. They said Jane’s mother was ill over in Todmorden. She was crying the whole time they were bringing their stuff down, so I thought nowt of it. Any road, I had to go out to the market or we’d have had nothing for tea.’

‘How did they take their stuff away?’

‘It was Bill Pargin who took it, so they must’ve sold it to him. I kept an eye on them when I got back in case they were making off with some of your things, but they only took their own stuff, I made sure of that.’

‘They stole my money from the pot, though!’ Then the tears came, floods of them. Rhona called in the watch. An old man came, stared round the upstairs room, then said there was nothing much he could do, but he’d ask around.

He came back a few days later to say that Timmo and Jane had vanished completely and no one could be found who had seen them leave town.

Meg had gone to see Bill Pargin herself, but he insisted he knew nothing about her money. And since the young couple had sold him only their own possessions, he was entitled to keep them.

After that things went from bad to worse for Meg. The weather grew swiftly cooler as September turned into October. The money she’d carried in her purse ran out and when she couldn’t pay the rent, they turned her out of the house and sold up the rest of her things, except for a few bits and pieces that she’d slipped out under her skirt and left with Rhona.

Her neighbour came in to say ‘the mester’, as she always called her husband, would let Meg use a corner of her downstairs room, but just till she got on her feet. Only she couldn’t get on her feet, could she, because she could still only work part of the time.

And then Meg’s milk dried up and she had to feed Nelly on cow’s milk with sops of bread in it. The child started to fade again, which made her mother’s heart go chill with terror. If she lost Nelly as well as Ben, she would kill herself. She would!

Rhona faced her one day after her husband had left for work. ‘The mester says you’ve to move out now.’

Meg blinked at her in bewilderment. ‘Why does your husband want me to go?’

‘Says he likes having his house to hissen. I daresn’t argue with him. He can turn reet nasty if I don’t do as he says.’

Meg was so hungry she couldn’t think straight, had no money left and only a small crust of bread to feed Nelly with softened in water. It wouldn’t be enough. The child was hungry and needed milk. It puzzled her why she wasn’t hungry herself because she was eating very little in order to keep most of the food for Nelly.

She’d beg for bread in the streets if she had to. She’d do anything for her child. But if they had no roof over their heads, how would they manage? Overcome by her troubles, she began to cry and Rhona came to put an arm round her shoulders.

‘You’ll have to go on the parish, love.’

‘No!’

‘You’ve got no choice. I can’t let you stay on here. The mester would beat me black and blue if I tried to go against him.’ She sighed. ‘I’m sorry, love. I know you’re having a bad time, but it’s for the best. They’ll look after you both in there, feed the child.’

After a sleepless night Meg walked slowly to the poorhouse in Spotland, which brought back agonising memories of Ben dying. The overseer shut the gate behind them with a dull, threatening thump that seemed to echo in her head and took her inside, calling out for someone to fetch the matron.

They both sat there and looked at Meg. In the end it was Matron who spoke. ‘Now, Mrs Pearson. Tell me what’s happened to bring you here. I thought you had some money left after your husband’s funeral. Could you not find work?’

So she told them about the theft and how sickly her baby was.

‘You’re not from Rochdale. Where exactly do you come from?’

She explained about her brief marriage and leaving Northby. It seemed so long ago now, all that. It was a different person who’d been so happy.

Matron looked at her in surprise. ‘You have family there still?’

Meg nodded.

‘Why don’t you go back to them, then? Why come here?’

She scowled at them both. ‘Because I hate my mother.’

The overseer intervened. ‘That’s a child’s reasoning, Mrs Pearson. You’d be better off with your family than in here, you know you would, and we’d be better off without another two people to feed.’

‘But how could I get back to Northby?’

‘We could make you a small payment, enough to get you a place with a carrier going in that direction. It’d save us the cost of looking after you, you see.’

Beside him, Matron nodded.

The overseer spoke more sternly. ‘You’ll have to go back to your family, willingly or unwillingly.’

Meg pushed herself to her feet, gathering Nelly close, wrapped in the ends of her shawl. ‘I’ll need to think about it.’

Matron walked with her to the gate and slipped a coin into her hand. ‘You really will be best off with your family. In the meantime, buy yourself summat to eat, love. You’ll think more clearly with food in your belly.’

The small act of kindness made tears rise in Meg’s eyes and she brushed them away with the hand not holding Nelly. As she walked back, she was blind to the crisp beauty of the late-autumn day. Her gaze was more often on her daughter’s face than on where she was placing her feet, so that she stumbled and once fell.

A woman picked her up but Meg couldn’t find words to do more than thank her, so set off walking again.

When she got back she hesitated at the door, took a long, shaky breath and walked inside.

Rhona was waiting for her. ‘Well? What did they say?’

She explained.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you had family?’

‘I’m not sure they’ll take me in. I don’t get on with my mother.’

‘Of course they will! Families allus look after their own. You’d be a fool to go to the poorhouse when you can stay outside and be free.’

Meg supposed Rhona was right but she knew how her mother would crow if she returned to Northby destitute. It wasn’t freedom to be beholden to a woman she detested.

Only what else could she do?

And at least Jack would be there.

The thought of him made all the difference. Suddenly she longed to see her brother, a longing so intense it hurt. He was a loving, kindly man and would help her and Nelly, she knew he would, though she hated to place more burdens on his shoulders.

But she wasn’t going back to the poorhouse and asking for her fare. If she did that, she’d be returning to Northby as a beggar.

She was going home through her own efforts or not at all. It was the only way she could face doing it.

Sophia looked out of the window at the driving rain and sighed. She walked across the room, then walked back again, so restless and bored she could have screamed. Jethro had forbidden her to go out in such inclement weather, even in their own carriage, even just down the valley to visit her mother and sister.

‘Send the carriage for them instead,’ he told her. ‘They’ll not object to coming here, knowing your condition.’

Of course they wouldn’t dare object to anything
he
proposed! She was angry enough to say sharply, ‘Yes, but what sort of mood will they be in if we seem to be ordering them around? It’s like rubbing their noses in the fact that you hold the purse strings.’

He stared at her, eyes narrowing and lips pressing together into a thin line. ‘Is your sister saying spiteful things to you?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said quickly.

‘You don’t usually lie to me.’

His tone was mild. It was always mild with her these days, whatever she said or did. She shrugged. ‘It’s only natural that Harriet should be a bit sharp sometimes. No families are sweet and loving all the time.’