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Authors: Lyn Andrews

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BOOK: Sunlight on the Mersey
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The day had proved to be far happier for them all, Kate had thought thankfully as she put her feet up last on Christmas
Night. Of course it had been painful to sit down to the meal without Bill, she’d had a hard time keeping back the tears, but Charlie had taken their minds off the situation by relaying the events of Christmas Eve at Florence’s. He’d been full of Florence’s joy that he’d proposed and how delighted she was with her ring, the real champagne her father had bought because he too was pleased, and how even her mother had at last seemed happy to accept the fact. He’d described how beautiful the table had looked and said the meal had been truly great, with roast beef and venison (which he’d never tasted before) and the trimmings, followed by a fancy meringue dessert and fresh fruit. To finish Florence’s father had poured him a brandy and given him a cigar. Oh, it had indeed been a truly splendid occasion and Mrs Taylor had invited them all for supper on New Year’s Eve. That, however, was something Kate was rather apprehensive about but she said nothing, realising that she would have to meet Charlie’s future in-laws sooner or later.

Tom had called after they’d finished the dinner and he and Iris had gone for a walk after she’d opened her present. She’d exclaimed in delight at the lovely scarf he’d bought her, bemoaning the fact that she’d only got him socks, which were very boring and unimaginative. He’d protested that they were very useful, especially these cold mornings.

Rose had been a little quiet and Kate had caught her staring into space on occasions looking sad and wistful, but she’d been delighted with the novels both she and Iris had bought her and when Iris and Tom had gone, Rose had settled down
to enjoy the one called
Treasured Dreams,
which had been Iris’s choice.

Later that evening Kate decided she would put Rose out of her misery and despite feeling exhausted and loath to stir from the comfort of her armchair, she summoned up the energy to put the kettle on.

‘Mam, sit down, I’ll do it. You’ve done enough for one day,’ Iris urged.

‘It’s just that I feel a cup of tea would be nice while we discuss your future, Rose,’ Kate persisted, getting out the tea caddy.

Iris looked surprised. It seemed rather late to start discussing this but she said nothing.

Rose looked at her mother hopefully but a little frisson of fear passed through her. ‘What . . . what have you decided, Mam?’

‘You know I had a letter from Gwen a few weeks ago, Rose.’

Rose nodded. She had so much wanted to ask what Gwen’s letter had said but had been afraid to.

‘Then I had another note yesterday morning,’ Kate went on.

‘And?’ Iris asked.

‘And Gwen is happy to give you a home, Rose, and she’s managed to find you a job too.’

Rose felt relief wash over her. ‘Oh, Mam!’

‘She had a word with Mrs Mathews, and Miss Olivia Rhys-Pritchard is willing to take you on as a housemaid,’ Kate informed her daughter.

‘You mean she’s going into service? Won’t she have to live in?’ Iris queried, wondering if Rose would like the idea. It certainly wouldn’t suit her and Rose had hated being a chambermaid in the hotel. Everyone knew the hours were long, the pay terrible, the time off almost non-existent and the work usually thankless and often heavy: all reasons why girls were not finding it very attractive these days, especially when they could earn more, work fewer hours and have more freedom working in shops and factories, where they were not subjected to the rigid hierarchy that existed in such households.

‘No, Gwen told Mrs Mathews that she would prefer to have Rose live “out” and hinted that it would save them money as they would only have to pay Rose a wage, they wouldn’t have to keep her as well. Apparently they have one other housemaid, a parlourmaid and a scullery maid to assist the cook. And of course the housekeeper and a butler and one footman.’

‘So, Rose and one other housemaid will be expected to do all the housework? Didn’t you tell me the house is huge, Rose?’ Iris asked.

Rose nodded. It wasn’t what she had expected but she had to have a job. She didn’t mind housework but she knew it would be hard work, possibly as hard as being a chambermaid at Black’s, and she felt a little apprehensive, but to be able to return to Tregarron would be compensation enough.

‘Gwen has asked in various shops but there was nothing to be had and besides, both she and I doubted that cycling twenty miles a day in all weather would be good for you, Rose.’

Rose pushed the thought of the number of rooms at Plas Idris to the back of her mind together with the fact that she’d never been in service before. ‘I won’t mind working at Plas Idris, Mam, as long as I can go home to Aunty Gwen each night.’

Privately Iris wondered whether cleaning a house as big as that plus cycling two miles from and to the village would be any easier than cycling twenty miles a day to Denbigh to work in a shop but she said nothing for Rose was looking far more animated than she had for months.

‘So, I’ve decided to let you go, Rose, as long as you’re happy to work there,’ Kate concluded.

Rose got up and threw her arms around her mother. ‘Oh, Mam! I’m so happy and thank you.’

Kate managed a tired smile. ‘You know you can always come back if you want to.’

‘I know, but I’m sure I’ll be as happy there as I was last time. When . . . ?’

‘The second week in January, Gwen has told them you’ll be starting. You can go over a few days before to settle in with Gwen, get your uniform and have your duties explained to you. That will give me time to get your things ready too,’ Kate added.

‘Time too to go to supper at Florence’s on New Year’s Eve,’ Iris added, wondering if, after Rose had gone, she should tell her mother that she and Tom Morrissey had come to an understanding.

That night as she pulled the quilt up around her ears
Rose felt happy for the first time in months. She was going back to Tregarron, to the tranquillity, to the cosy comfort of Gwen’s cottage Y-Bythin and to the somewhat faded splendour of Plas Idris and its beautiful grounds, which she was certain would look just as lovely in winter as they had in summer. She determined that she would not complain no matter how hard she found the work; it was only housework, after all, just on a bigger scale. From what she remembered of Mrs Mathews, she hoped she’d find her fair and considerate. In about ten days she would be leaving Liverpool for ever but apart from leaving her mother and Iris, she would have no regrets.

The day after Boxing Day when Charlie arrived at Florence’s for supper he thought he detected a certain coolness in her mother’s manner towards him but it wasn’t until the meal was over that he became fully and embarrassingly aware of the reason.

‘Everyone has greatly admired Florence’s ring,’ Ethel remarked. ‘Where did you say you bought it, Charlie, I’ve forgotten?’ she asked casually.

Charlie was a little taken aback. ‘I . . . don’t think I mentioned where I’d bought it.’

Ethel pursed her lips, ignoring the slightly curious look her husband was directing at her. ‘You see, when I first saw it I thought it looked . . . familiar,’ she continued, watching him closely. She noticed the wary expression that crept into his eyes.

‘Familiar? How can that be?’ Florence asked, looking puzzled.

Ethel ignored her daughter. ‘This morning I was speaking to my Aunt Emily on the telephone, something I often do as she’s my late mother’s sister and was widowed last year, and she was telling me how hard she is finding it to live on what Uncle Edwin left her, so much so that recently and regretfully she had to sell some of her jewellery – and then I remembered where I’d seen that ring before. I recalled it so clearly because the leaves that decorate the shoulders are ivy leaves and Uncle Edwin had it specially engraved for her, because her middle name is Ivy. She confirmed that it was one of the pieces she’d sold and for a fraction of its original price. And you bought it, Charlie, for Florence. You bought her a second-hand ring!’

Charlie’s cheeks flushed with humiliation. ‘I . . . I only wanted the best for Florence.’

‘You consider a second-hand ring to be “the best”?’ Ethel’s voice was full of scorn.

Florence looked from her mother to Charlie, biting her lip in confusion and disappointment.

‘I . . . I couldn’t afford the prices they were asking in the big jewellers in town!’ Charlie cried, seeing the hurt in Florence’s eyes and feeling annoyed and a little guilty.

‘So just where did you buy it?’ Ethel demanded.

‘In Cookson’s. It’s a very respectable establishment,’ Charlie replied grimly.

‘It’s also a very big pawnbroker’s on Scotland Road!’ Ethel
informed her bewildered daughter. ‘And I think it’s extremely underhand and . . . penny-pinching of you, Charlie, to try to pass it off as a new and very expensive ring!’

Florence couldn’t hide her feelings. ‘Did . . . did you get it in a . . . pawnshop, Charlie?’

Charlie’s humiliation was complete. ‘Florence, I wanted to get you the very best ring I could afford, truly I did! I . . . I asked Mr Cookson, who was an associate of my da’s, to look for something for me. The rings in Boodles were way beyond my means . . .’

‘So, you actually went out of your way to find a secondhand ring at a bargain price that you could pass off as new and very expensive without Florence ever knowing – in fact without any of us knowing! I think that is . . . utterly despicable! And it makes me wonder what else you have been hiding from us?’ Ethel added darkly.

Florence was now on the verge of tears and Charlie felt that he could quite cheerfully throttle her mother. ‘Florence, I never intended to deceive you, I swear I didn’t! I wouldn’t do that! It’s just as I’ve said, I wanted something special for you, I wanted the best, but I just couldn’t afford it! I . . . I thought that this way I could give you a ring you’d be proud to wear and even though it’s not new you have to admit that it is a beautiful ring! I had no intention of hurting or disappointing you. That’s the last thing I wanted.’

Edward had remained silent throughout the exchange but his anger had been growing and now he got to his feet, his expression grim. ‘Ethel, I’d like a word – in private, if you
please! And I think we should leave Florence and Charlie alone for a few minutes.’

Ethel hesitated for a second but as Edward took her arm firmly she had no alternative but to let him lead her into the hall.

‘Just what do you think you are playing at, Ethel?’ he demanded when he’d closed the dining-room door behind him.

‘Well, isn’t it obvious now, Edward? He’s been deceiving us!’

‘Don’t talk rubbish, Ethel! Florence loves him and he loves her and he wanted the best for her but he couldn’t afford it! I wouldn’t call that “deception”.’

‘If he loves her he wouldn’t let her think he’d given her a new and expensive ring!’ Ethel retorted.

‘He never said it was new, we all just assumed it was.’

‘And we would never have found out if I hadn’t thought I recognised it!’ Ethel shot back.

‘That was unfortunate but does it really matter that it’s not new? He just wanted to please her. He was honest and open enough to admit that he couldn’t afford a ring from the likes of Boodles. Well, neither could I when I bought your engagement ring. You were happy enough with that small diamond I bought, I seem to remember. I think this was all totally unnecessary, Ethel, and I hope you’re happy now that you’ve upset our daughter. I just pray this doesn’t cause a rift between them.’

It wasn’t the reaction Ethel had expected and she glared at
her husband. ‘Well, I would have expected you at least to agree with me!’

‘No, I don’t, Ethel. You’ve caused a storm in a teacup over nothing of importance. Now, we’d better go back and see what we can do to patch things up.’

‘I don’t consider it to be “nothing” and I’m going to bed. All this has given me a headache!’ Ethel snapped, heading determinedly towards the stairs, leaving her husband standing staring after her in annoyance.

As soon as her parents had left the room Florence had turned to Charlie. ‘Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t new, Charlie?’

He put his arms around her. ‘I’m sorry . . . I . . . I don’t suppose I thought much about it, Florence. I mean I didn’t think you would get so upset. I really meant what I said. I wanted you to have something very special, I wanted the best for you but I just couldn’t afford sixteen or seventeen guineas. I’ve been saving every halfpenny I could and I paid a good bit for it, Florence, every penny I had. I just didn’t think you would be so . . . upset about it not being new.’

Florence nodded slowly. He had been saving hard for a long time, she knew that, and he had wanted to buy her the best he could afford. Did it really matter that it wasn’t a new ring?

‘I just want you to be happy, Florence, and I want to marry you,’ Charlie said, kissing her gently on the forehead. ‘I never intended to deceive anyone.’

Florence believed him and felt a frisson of annoyance. Her
mother had taken an irrational dislike to Charlie from the start and this episode had proved that her opinion hadn’t changed. Well, she loved him and was going to marry him regardless of what her mother thought. ‘I am happy, Charlie, and it is a beautiful ring.’ She smiled. ‘And . . . and the fact that it belonged to Aunt Emily means that it’s stayed in the family and I think that’s a bonus.’

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he’d wanted to do was upset Florence.

Chapter Fifteen

BOOK: Sunlight on the Mersey
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