Mary's Child (18 page)

Ezra Arkenstall said, ‘It’s a black picture.’

But George shook his head again. ‘No. It’s a serious business but not without hope. We’re caught up in a cycle of supply and demand, boom when ships are needed, slump when they are not. But we have the finest workforce in the world. We have been building forty thousand tons a year at Ballantyne’s and we will again. But we have to work at it.’

The others were listening, interested, but Jack hung on every word, committing it to memory, as always.

As the carriage took them home, George Ballantyne said, ‘You’re very quiet.’

Jack smiled at him, teeth showing white in the dim, lamplit gloom of the carriage. ‘I was just thinking over the evening. The yard is a tremendous responsibility, isn’t it?’

George nodded, but added, ‘For your father and myself. Not you, not yet. Learn all you can but leave the worrying to us. You’ll have enough of it in time. And by then you’ll have the money and the pride to make up for it.’

Then it was his turn to sit in silence. He broke it to say, ‘That little girl who helped serve us tonight  . . .’

Jack looked across at him. ‘You mean the maid?’

‘Yes. She reminds me of someone.’

Jack prompted, ‘You’ve probably seen her when she’s delivered fruit and vegetables to the house. She comes from a family of hawkers. I’ve seen her.’

‘No, I haven’t.’ The old man was sure of that. ‘I said she reminds me of someone, but I can’t think who and I don’t know why.’

Nor did he make any connection between the Vesta Nightingale they had talked of and the girl who had served his dinner. The matter slipped from his mind as he talked ships and shipbuilding with his grandson for the rest of the drive.

‘Don’t be late back, mind.’ Mrs  Garrity gave the warning as she always did. A month had passed since the dinner party and now winter was closing in again. As Chrissie opened the kitchen door to the outside world it showed a rectangle of darkness and a cold wind swirled in around her ankles. Mrs  Garrity added, ‘And don’t let the missus see you.’

‘I won’t.’ Chrissie did not argue. To her mind, as she had simply exchanged a duty with Ruby there was no reason why Sylvia Forthrop should complain about Chrissie going out. But she also conceded that the old cook had a point when she had once explained, ‘What the eye doesn’t see the heart won’t grieve over.’ Because if the mistress found out Chrissie was attending night school she might well forbid it, for no other reason than that it was a divergence from the norm. Maids did not spend their few free hours at lessons.

So Chrissie stole down the side of the drive in the cover cast by the shadows of the trees. Out in the road she turned to walk down towards the town. Two shadows detached themselves from that of a tree and took on substance. One of them was Frank Ward, who always escorted her to her evening class. The other was his brother, Ted.

Frank greeted her, ‘Aye, aye, Chrissie!’

‘Hello, Frank! Hello, Ted! I’ve got a proper guard on me tonight.’

Frank wore the secondhand suit bought from the pawnbroker but Ted, now a boy soldier in the Durham Light Infantry, was in red coat with a pillbox cap cocked on the side of his head and held in place by a thin strap under his chin.

He lifted one hand to the cap in salute and said shyly, ‘Hello, Chrissie.’ There was a difference in his greeting. Both boys had been Chrissie’s friends and Frank still was, but she sensed she was much more important to Ted now. He was a year older than Frank and half a head taller, but while Frank chatted easily as they walked down into the town, Ted was usually tongue-tied, only answering questions she put to him with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. This awkwardness had come on him only a month or two ago. And it affected Chrissie, too.

She had hotly denied that Ronnie Milburn was a ‘follower’, but she knew she had one now and the realisation made her blush. She was glad the darkness left her face in shadow.

The brothers went with her to the Technical College, and when they stood outside the red-brick building with the young students swarming past them, Chrissie said, ‘Goodnight, Ted. Mind you don’t miss your train and get into trouble.’ He had to be back in barracks at Newcastle before ‘lights out’.

‘Cheerio.’ Ted saluted again as he turned away.

He left reluctantly. Chrissie knew that she had only to ask and he would have waited to see her home again, and taken the consequences. She was not sure how she felt about this, and about Ted.

Frank met her when she came out of the College and walked with her back to the Forthrops’ house. One or two boys called after Chrissie, ‘Fancy a walk in the park?’ intending no more than that, but Frank swaggered alongside her and glared at them and they let her alone.

A tram clanged and clattered by and he shouted above its noise, ‘Do you like it in there?’

She nodded, ‘I like the figures, making them come out right at the end.’ And her teacher, greying and disillusioned, was favourably impressed, though Chrissie did not know it. He had told the Head of the College, ‘She really is an outstanding student, quite the best of her class and the best I’ve had for as far back as I can remember.’

Now they passed a pub and a crowd of men burst from its doors, singing and shouting. Chrissie swerved away from them and tucked herself in closer to Frank’s side. He moved her firmly so that his body was between her and the crowd, hurried her along out of any danger.

When they were past she asked him, ‘How are things at home with you?’

‘No different.’ He went on bitterly, ‘The old man takes my wages now and gives me just a shilling. A shilling! He says he gives the rest to me mam to keep me, but he boozes most of it. Or thinks he does.’ He laughed.

Chrissie glanced at him uneasily, not liking the sound of that laugh. ‘What do you mean: “He thinks he does”?’

Frank shrugged. ‘He thinks it all goes on drink. But I go through his pockets every night and take a few bob. That way there’s never enough gone that he’ll notice – he’s blind drunk when he comes home, anyway. Then I pass it on to me mam.’

Chrissie bit her lip. ‘What if he finds out?’

‘He won’t.’ Then Frank added, ‘He won’t have much time now, anyway.’ And when he saw her stare he explained, ‘I’m old enough for the Navy now. I’ll be off soon.’

Chrissie warned, ‘He’ll have to give his permission, though. What if he won’t?’

‘He will.’ Frank was confident. ‘Ted got him to sign the papers for him to go into the Army by shoving them in front of the old man one night when he was drunk. I’ll do the same. He’ll let me go to get rid of me. I let him take my wages because I don’t want a fight – that would upset me mam – and I get them back from him, anyway. But the last time he bashed her I told him I’d swing for him if he did it again, and I meant it. He’ll let me go.’

They walked on in silence until they came to the Forthrop house. There he said, ‘Goodnight.’ Chrissie stood on her toes and kissed him then ran up the drive and around to the kitchen door. That night she worried for him.

And the next night for Ruby.

Chapter 12

September 1909

Chrissie worked Ruby’s Thursday afternoon duty of answering calls and mending household linen while Ruby herself dressed and walked down into the town. She returned in time to help serve the dinner, but was silent, abstracted and spent a lot of the time staring into space with her mouth turned down, and Chrissie did most of the work.

Chrissie washed up after dinner, shared a pot of tea with the other two in the kitchen then set off for her bed. She was surprised when Ruby said, ‘I’ll come with you.’ The elder girl usually stayed up for a while, talking with the cook. When they reached the servants’ landing, Ruby asked, ‘Mind if I come in for a minute?’

‘’Course not.’ Chrissie pulled forward the single straight-backed chair. She herself sat on the edge of her bed.

Ruby sank down on to the chair and burst into tears. Chrissie got up to put her arm around the girl and asked, ‘What’s the matter?’

The confession took some time but finally Ruby gulped, ‘I’m expecting.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I saw the doctor this afternoon.’

Chrissie mopped at the tears with her handkerchief. ‘Who is the father?’ Though she had already guessed, and Ruby confirmed that it was Max Forthrop.

She wailed, ‘He’ll put me out on the street! I’ll kill meself! I daren’t go back to me mother in Ireland in this condition. I’ll throw meself in the river before I do that!’

Chrissie soothed her and told her, ‘It’ll be all right.’

‘But what am I going to do?’

Chrissie said firmly, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.’

Ruby believed that because she wanted to. Chrissie took her to her room and put her to bed, sat with her until she slept. Then she went back to her own bed and tossed and turned for a long time. She had promised the half-demented girl that she would find a solution but she had no idea what to suggest.

In the morning, however, her thoughts crystallised. After the kitchen fire had been lit and the front doorstep cleaned, she whispered to Ruby in the empty drawing-room, ‘Tell him this morning. And say you are going to tell the mistress as well – and that Mr  Arkenstall he works with.’

‘What Mr  Arkenstall?’

‘The old man who was here for dinner about a month back. There was Mr  Halliwell and Mr  Arkenstall and—’ But Chrissie remembered Ruby had spent her time ogling Jack Ballantyne. She gave up trying to identify the solicitor and told the doubting girl, ‘Just say you’re going to tell Mr  Arkenstall.’ Then as Ruby wavered, Chrissie pressed her, ‘Do it now, this morning. And remember, it’s you or him. He’s the guilty party. And if he lifts his hand to you, say you’ll scream the house down if he touches you.’ As Ruby still hesitated, Chrissie promised, ‘I’ll come with you. I’ll be just outside, and in there like a shot if you call.’

So they got the jugs of hot water from the kitchen and climbed the stairs. Ruby looked back once at Chrissie, who nodded at her determinedly. Then the maid swallowed and drew herself up, tapped at Forthrop’s dressing-room door and went in.

He listened to her, wooden faced, but seething with rage at her insolence. He heard her out, noting the tremor in her voice, but detecting her sincerity. He was not a fool. He believed she would carry out her threats. And why shouldn’t she, with nothing to lose?

However, he knew how to deal with her – Ruby was not the first. He waited until she fell silent, waited another minute to see her shake with fear that he might strike her anyway. Then he said, ‘My wife would not believe you, nor would Mr  Arkenstall. But her health is not good and I will not have her upset. However, there is no need for any of this. Of course I will do the right thing and make an arrangement.’

Ruby came out into the passage close to tears but triumphant. Later, when they were alone, she whispered to Chrissie, ‘I didn’t mention you, didn’t need to.’ Chrissie was relieved at that, had been frightened of bringing Forthrop’s anger down on herself, though she had been prepared to risk it to help Ruby, who went on, ‘I’m leaving, but I’m getting enough money to start a little shop when I get home, that’ll keep the pair of us – me and the little feller, when he comes.’ Then she added, ‘How did you know that would work?’

Chrissie shrugged, ‘I just had an idea.’ She had thought that Ezra Arkenstall looked a moral man, would not take kindly to any scandal attaching to the partnership of Arkenstall, Eddrington, Halliwell & Forthrop. She had also thought that Forthrop would know this, as indeed he did.

He told his wife, ‘She wants to go back to Ireland because she’s homesick and she needs to look after her mother. So I told her she needn’t work her notice. We’ll just have to manage with the one girl until we can find a replacement.’

Sylvia Forthrop sighed, ‘It’s terribly inconvenient, dear. I think I can feel one of my headaches coming on already. And I can’t understand it: whenever I asked the girl if she was happy here she said she was. She used to laugh when I asked, actually laughed.’

Forthrop’s lips tightened. He knew why Ruby had laughed in his wife’s face. He was not angry on behalf of Sylvia; he considered she had only herself to blame. But the girl had been presuming on her relationship with him. He was right to get rid of her, and the sooner the better.

She left the next day in a cab, on her way to the station and the train for the first leg of her journey home. Chrissie remembered what Mary Carter had told her: ‘That sort use you then toss you away.’ As Forthrop had used Ruby and now thrown her out.

Chrissie sadly watched her go, knowing that there would be more work for her until the new maid was engaged. She knew also that the new girl would be her senior and she would still be the youngest, the junior, ordered about by everyone. And the new maid might not be as congenial as Ruby.

So she was braced for the two weeks of hard labour that followed, but also prepared. She was able to introduce all the short cuts, time-saving and work-saving devices she had proposed to Ruby only to be turned down. She found she was able, unobtrusively, to carry out the work that both of them had done before, with little extra effort. But being wiser now in the ways of the world, she made a point of protesting to Sylvia Forthrop, ‘It’s just too much for me on my own, ma’am. I can’t cope.’