Love Changes Everything (13 page)

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Authors: Rosie Harris

BOOK: Love Changes Everything
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His words were still singing in her ears as she crept indoors and upstairs to bed and even when she fell asleep.
Chapter Eleven
The following Saturday was cold, wet and miserable and as they left work Ivy and Trixie agreed that it was as good a time as any for their mothers to meet.
‘I must be mad letting you talk me into going out on a day like this,' Maggie groaned.
‘You won't say that once you get there, and it's only a hop, skip and a jump away. It isn't as though you have to stand around waiting for a tram or a bus. It will do you good to get out; you never go anywhere except to the shops.'
‘It's little Cilla I'm thinking about. I don't want her catching a cold.'
‘It will probably have cleared up by this afternoon,' Trixie told her optimistically, ‘and I really want you to meet the O'Malleys.'
The rain had stopped by two o'clock and even though her dad hadn't come in from the pub Trixie insisted that they went out.
‘Your dad's not going to be too pleased when he comes home and finds me out,' Maggie said worriedly as she put on her hat and coat, ‘and what about his dinner?'
‘Leave it on a plate over a saucepan of hot water; that'll keep it warm for him.'
Reluctantly Maggie did as Trixie suggested and made sure that not only was there plenty of water in the saucepan but that the edge of it was over the hot coals so that the water in it would keep hot.
When they reached Horatio Street, Maggie seemed to be nervous and on edge when Ella opened the door to them and Trixie wondered if perhaps she was doing the wrong thing.
Her mother looked at her in dismay when they went into the O'Malleys' living room and, even before she'd sat down, Cilla ran over to a cupboard, opened it, and began taking things out. She immediately tried to stop her, but Ella waved her away.
‘That's Cilla's cupboard; it's where we keep the books and toys she plays with when Trixie brings her round here. She knows she's allowed to get them without asking.' Ella smiled indulgently. ‘She never touches anything else; she's a real little darlin', so she is, and not that much older than my little Nelly was when she died after the accident. Perhaps that's why I'm so fond of her.'
‘Your little one didn't have our Cilla's problems, though,' Maggie sighed.
‘No, that's true. She was as bright as a button, that's why I miss her so much. I grieve for her something dreadful,' Ella admitted sadly. ‘That's why I love seeing Cilla and look forward to Trixie bringing her around.'
‘What would you have done if she had been like Cilla?' Maggie asked hesitantly.
‘I'd go to church and pray, so I would,' Ella said immediately. ‘That's what I always do when I have something bothering me and it nearly always works.'
‘You mean the answer comes to you out of the blue?' Maggie sighed enviously. ‘I do know what you mean,' she went on quickly. ‘I may not be a Cat'lic like you are, but I often used to pop into your church when Cilla was very little and, if I had a penny to spare, light a candle to see if it would help in some way.'
‘Did it?' Ella asked, looking at her sideways as if not sure what Maggie's answer was going to be.
‘I think so. Look at her now; she's getting brighter and stronger all the time. Mind you,' she added with a wry smile, ‘you've had a lot to do with that; you and your son and Ivy. She's really taken to all of you and you're so good with her.'
While they were talking, Ivy and Trixie brought in tea for all of them and as she sipped hers, Maggie looked round appreciatively at the cosy room and began to relax.
‘I'm going to take Trixie upstairs so that I can show her my Christmas presents again,' Ivy told Maggie and her mother. ‘Do you want me to take Cilla with us as well?'
‘No, there's no need,' her mother told her. ‘Just look at her, she's as happy as a sandboy doing that little wooden jigsaw. If she can't manage to do it on her own then we'll help her.'
‘That was one of the pleasantest afternoons I've known in a long time,' Maggie told Trixie as they made their way home. ‘What a nice woman Ella O'Malley is and how lovely she is with our Cilla. You know she wants to help teach Cilla to learn her letters? Well, we've talked it all over and she thinks that Cilla will master them in next to no time. Won't it be lovely if she does.'
Sam Jackson was already at home when they arrived back and he was far from pleased at having found the place completely empty.
‘What's the idea of leaving me to get my own bloody dinner,' he ranted, the moment they stepped into the room. ‘I'm slaving my guts out in all weathers down at the docks and when I get home I expect to have a hot meal ready and waiting.'
‘It
was
ready and waiting for you, Dad; all you had to do was lift the plate off the saucepan and put it on the table,' Trixie told him. ‘Even your knife and fork was put there ready for you.'
She ducked as his hand came up aiming for her face. He missed her mouth, but the back of his fist caught her a stinging blow across one eye. It was delivered with such force that it made her scream out with pain.
‘Speak when you're spoken to! I was talking to your mother, not to you. The pair of you are sodding useless. As for you, you've got too much to say for yourself; you need bloody taming. I'll make sure you will be before long; mark my words.'
‘I'll put the kettle on,' Maggie said quietly. ‘I expect we could all do with a cup of tea.'
‘A cuppa char,' Sam mimicked in a derisory voice. ‘That's your bloody answer to everything. Anyway, where've you both been all dressed up like a pair of fo'penny rabbits?'
‘We're not dressed up, we've nothing to dress up in,' Trixie muttered.
‘You're looking for another smack round the gob, my girl.' Sam scowled. ‘Go and brew that char your mother's on about and make sure it's not like gnats' piss. And don't forget to put three sugars in mine. Take her with you,' he went on, nodding towards Cilla who was standing by the door sucking her thumb.
‘I'd like to put arsenic in it, not sugar,' Trixie muttered under her breath as she picked Cilla up in her arms and went to do as she'd been told.
She carried two cups of tea through to the living room, but took her own and a drink for Cilla into the bedroom. Her face felt sore and her head was aching and when she looked in the mirror she could see that her eye was cut at one corner.
It was not as bad as she'd feared, she decided as she smeared some Vaseline on to soothe it; with any luck, apart from the fact that it might look bruised, it probably wouldn't be too noticeable when she went to work on Monday, she thought hopefully.
As it happened, the state of her eye was the least of her worries on Monday. A few minutes before their midday break, Fred Linacre told them that he had a special announcement to make. They all waited expectantly, whispering between themselves.
‘Perhaps they're going to give us all a bonus because we've worked so hard,' someone said hopefully.
‘No, we're getting a half-day holiday because it's his birthday,' another joked.
‘Perhaps he's going to start another savings scheme so that we can all have a day out in the summer.'
‘More likely he's going to tell us off about something we're not doing right.'
As it was, none of them were anywhere near correct about what Fred Linacre had to say. He waited for complete silence, cleared his throat and squared his shoulders and then looked round at them all sternly.
‘It's been decided to cut down on the number of girls working on this assembly line,' he stated. ‘One of you has lost her job and will be leaving at the end of the week.'
There was a moment's silence, then a babble of voices began protesting and demanding to know who it was going to be. There was a note of fear in many of the voices. Many of the older women who depended on their wages to eke out a living were very apprehensive. They knew only too well that with the ever-rising unemployment on Merseyside they were unlikely to be able to find another job.
Fred let them get it out of their system and then he once more demanded silence so that he could announce who it was to be.
‘The management have worked on the fairest system they can,' he stated pompously. ‘That means the last in first out principle, so Trixie Jackson will be the one who's sacked. She'll be given her cards at the end of the week.'
There were expressions of relief till Ivy stated at the top of her voice, ‘That's not fair. I was taken on at the same time as Trixie Jackson, so why pick on her?'
‘Shush!' Trixie grabbed her arm and shook her head. ‘You need your job, Ivy.'
‘Of course I do, so do you; we all do, otherwise we wouldn't be here.'
There was a murmur of agreement and all eyes rested on Fred, waiting for his explanation.
‘We took that factor into consideration,' Fred told them. ‘Ivy is an experienced worker and older than Trixie and that's how we made our decision.'
Some nodded in agreement, others continued to shake their heads and mutter about it not being fair. Trixie was too stunned to say anything. Even though she was grateful to Ivy for her loyalty it was the thought of what her father would say when she went home and told him she was out of work that was worrying Trixie the most.
Her mum would be upset but at least she'd be sympathetic. Her dad, though, would be furious. She wondered if there was any way she could keep the news from him for a while. If she could delay telling him till she'd found another job, then perhaps he mightn't be quite so mad at her.
Even as the idea came into her head she knew it was impossible. Unless she took time off she couldn't look for another one. If she walked out of the biscuit factory right now and couldn't find a job before the weekend, then she'd have no wage packet to hand over on Friday and he'd probably give her a hiding for not telling him. In addition, because he drank at the same boozer as Fred Linacre, he would probably hear about her losing her job and he'd be furious because she hadn't told him herself.
During what was left of their break some of the women tried to consol her. She smiled and nodded as they kept telling her that at her age she'd get another job in next to no time but she was pretty sure it wasn't going to be as easy as that.
A thousand and one ways of breaking the news to her dad went round and round in her head for the rest of the day till she thought she was going mad.
She talked some of them over with Ivy as they headed for home, but although it made her feel better it didn't solve the problem. She still had to face him and she could only pray that she had a chance to tell him before he heard it from Fred Linacre.
Her mother was beside herself with worry when she told her. ‘He'll be so mad with you, my luv. Perhaps you should go out before he gets in. He's bound to know because he's so late that it looks as if he's called in at the pub on his way home; he's probably heard it from Fred, and you know what he can be like when he's had a few beers.'
‘You mean if I'm not here then it'll give him a chance to cool down?'
‘That's right, luv. Take Cilla out for a walk.'
‘At this time of night when it's almost dark! He'll know I've done it to avoid him.'
‘That doesn't matter; better for him to be cross about that than over you losing your job. Don't forget he said he was the one who persuaded this Fred Linacre to take you on in the first place so he's bound to think you've let him down.'
‘It's not like that, Mum. They're cutting back and it was a case of my being the last one to be taken on.'
‘You know that and so do I but can we convince him of that fact? No, it's too big a risk. You clear off for an hour or so with Cilla and I'll see if I can calm him down before you get back.'
‘Going out somewhere?'
Trixie was just putting her coat on when her father arrived home.
She hesitated, not knowing quite what to say. He looked quite calm and he seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood.
‘Well, go on, then, if you're going,' he said giving her a push. ‘The sooner you go the sooner you'll be back and then I'll tell you the news I have for you.'
‘The news?' She looked at him questioningly, fear making her voice tremble.
‘That's right.'
‘What news is that?' Maggie intervened, coming out of the kitchen carrying a plate piled high with steaming food. ‘Come on; get your dinner while it's hot.'
Trixie hesitated as her father pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. Then, plucking up every vestige of courage she could muster, she faced him. ‘Do you mean you've heard that I've lost my job?' she asked.
He stared back at her. ‘Oh yes, I know all about that. You finish there at the end of the week, don't you?' he said with a humourless smile.
She nodded, nervously waiting for him to say or do something. She couldn't understand why he was taking it so calmly. She'd been expecting him to rant and rave, to give her a hiding, even, but to sit there holding his knife and fork with what was almost a smile on his face was so inexplicable and out of character that it completely bewildered her.
‘Was that the news?' she gulped. She felt so frightened that she wanted to get the matter over with. Waiting to find out what he was going to do about it was almost as bad as the punishment he so often dished out.
‘Losing your job's not all that important,' he said brusquely.
Trixie couldn't believe she was hearing correctly. ‘So . . . so what is the other news?' she asked in a puzzled voice.

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