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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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BOOK: Tangled Threads
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‘Aye, we’ll have women taking over. Taking all our jobs.’

The first man, who seemed to have appointed himself as spokesman, spread his hands apologetically. ‘So you see, we can’t let you stay, even if we wanted to.’

A lump in her throat, Eveleen nodded. ‘I know,’ she said huskily and turned away before they should see the tears in her eyes.

‘We’ll put in a good word for you, love,’ one of the older men shouted after her. ‘See if Carpenter will give you your old job back.’

‘Or mebbe you could work as a winder,’ someone else suggested.

‘We’ll ask Carpenter not to sack you, love.’

Not trusting herself to speak, Eveleen glanced back over her shoulder and raised her hand in acknowledgement.

Not until she arrived home did she allow the tears to fall.

 
Forty-One

‘I told you it wouldn’t work. I said you’d get caught.’

Mary was triumphant that her pessimism had been proved right.

Rebecca put her arm about Eveleen’s shoulders. ‘Don’t cry, Evie. You’ll get work somewhere else. There’s plenty of other factories round here. Or you can work at
home with us.’

Eveleen did not answer. She didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings by saying that while their money was very useful, even necessary, the bit that homeworkers brought in, even three
of them, would not be enough to support the household. And very soon Rebecca would have a baby to care for and even less time to work.

‘If you hadn’t driven my Jimmy away,’ Mary said resentfully. ‘None of this would have happened. In fact, if you—’

Eveleen’s patience gave way and she snapped, ‘Yes, yes, I know. It’s all my fault. Everything that’s happened is my fault.’

Mary wagged her finger at her, seeming for a brief moment more like the mother Eveleen remembered. ‘Don’t you back answer me, miss.’

‘I’m sorry, Mam,’ Eveleen said, as the fight drained out of her. She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on their current problem. ‘Maybe if I can get a job like
I had before in the women’s workshop and then work at home at night too, it wouldn’t be far short of the pay I was getting at the machine.’

‘You can’t work the clock round, Evie,’ Rebecca said gently. ‘You’ll make yourself ill. Why don’t you go and see that nice man you mentioned. What’s his
name?’

‘Mr Carpenter.’

‘Yes. Him. Maybe he will help you.’

Eveleen shook her head. ‘Not this time,’ she said sadly and then, thinking aloud, added, ‘It’s a pity, though. I really don’t want to leave Reckitt and Stokes.
They’re one of the best places to work around here.’

‘What name did you say?’ Mary’s voice was shrill.

In an unguarded moment, Eveleen had let slip the name she had meant to keep from her mother.

‘What name did you say?’ Mary repeated. She was not going to let the matter drop.

‘Reckitt’s,’ Eveleen murmured, desperately trying to divert her mother’s attention.

‘No, no. You said another name.’

Reluctantly Eveleen said, ‘Stokes. The firm’s called Reckitt and Stokes.’

She was quite unprepared for the light that shone in her mother’s eyes. Eyes that had been doleful, almost lifeless, for so long. ‘It’s him, isn’t it? It’s Brinsley
Stokes.’

Eveleen nodded.

Mary reached out and touched her daughter’s hand. ‘Have you seen him? How does he look? Tell me, Eveleen. Please.’

‘He looks fine. He – he . . .’ She hesitated to cause her mother further pain, yet it was better that she knew the truth. ‘He visits the factory most days and he –
he brings his son with him. Richard Stokes.’

‘His son? He has a son?’

Eveleen nodded.

Mary sat a moment, digesting this new information. ‘Of course,’ she murmured, lost in her own thoughts. ‘He’s moved on. Got married. I should have expected that.’
She sighed, accepting the fact, coming to terms with it though the knowledge brought her no pleasure. She rallied again and asked, ‘You say he looked well?’

‘Yes. He’s very handsome. He’s still got dark hair but it’s grey here.’ Eveleen touched her own hair just above her temples. ‘It makes him look
distinguished.’

A smile played around Mary’s mouth and her eyes had a faraway expression. ‘Oh yes, he always looked very distinguished. Tall and slim. Is he still slim? He’s not run to fat,
has he?’ Her tone was scathing as if the very idea appalled her.

Eveleen hid her amusement and shook her head. ‘No, and his son is very like him. The same looks, build, everything.’

By looking at the son, she could see the man that her mother had fallen in love with so desperately all those years ago. Now she could understand. To believe oneself loved by such a man would
have been heady wine indeed.

‘Mm.’ Once again Mary was lost in her own thoughts, years away from the kitchen in the little back-to-back house. But to Eveleen’s surprise her mother did not seem distressed.
In fact the conversation seemed to have brought comfort to her.

Eveleen shook her head. Her mother was a mystery to her. She doubted she would ever understand Mary’s strange mood swings if she lived to be a hundred.

‘I should like to see him again,’ Mary murmured. ‘Just once more.’

The following morning Eveleen dressed in her own clothes and tied a scarf over her cropped hair. She was fearful of the interview ahead, but it had to be done. She had to face
Josh Carpenter.

‘How could you do it, Eveleen?’ he said the moment she stepped into his office. ‘How could you deceive me so?’ He was red with anger and hurt pride. ‘You’ve
made a laughing stock of me.’ Bitterly, had added, ‘Or I should say, more of a laughing stock, because I’m that already.’

His anger was dying even now and all that was left was the hurt and sorrow. ‘I really thought you liked me. Oh, I don’t mean any romantic nonsense. I’m not that blind or
stupid. I’m a big fat bugger and old enough to be your father. But I thought you liked me as a person. I thought you could see beyond this mound of blubber to the person
underneath.’

Now that any lingering doubts were swept away by his admission of the nature of his interest in her, Eveleen was able to say genuinely, ‘But I do like you, Mr Carpenter. And I’m
truly sorry I deceived you. But when Jimmy went off, I was desperate. I couldn’t keep the family on what I could earn in the workroom.’

‘Why didn’t you come and talk to me? I could have helped you.’

‘Could you?’ There was a challenge in her tone. ‘Could you really? Could you have paid me more than you paid the other women? Could you really have employed me anywhere in this
factory on better pay? As a woman?’

Josh stared at her for a moment and then dropped his gaze. ‘No. You’re right. I couldn’t.’

‘No,’ Eveleen said softly, ‘you couldn’t. So – I had no choice.’

‘But you must have realized you’d be found out eventually.’

‘I had to do something.’

‘Eveleen, was it all lies?’

She frowned. ‘I don’t understand what you mean.’

‘Was it all part of the cunning plan?’ The bitterness and anger were back in his tone. ‘Did you write to me just to make it more plausible that Eveleen was away from
home?’

Her surprise at his suggestion was so genuine that he could not fail to see it.

‘I wanted to thank you for giving us the stocking-machine. Really I did. I was so very grateful. I still am. And then, when you replied, well, I didn’t know what to do. Part of me
wanted to keep on writing to you, but I . . .’ It was her turn to be embarrassed to admit that she had feared his interest in her was more than that of a friend. She leaned towards him.
‘I meant every word of what I said in those letters.’

‘Right then,’ he said and hastily cleared his throat. ‘Well, we’ll forget all about it, shall we? Only thing is,’ he looked at her and smiled, ‘I can’t
let you go back into the machine shop.’

Eveleen managed to smile. ‘I didn’t for one moment think you could.’

He heaved himself up from behind his desk. ‘I’ll take you back to the workroom. Set you to work in there again.’

‘You’re – you’re not going to fire me?’

Josh smiled. ‘You deserve it, you little minx, but no, I don’t want to do that. I can understand why you did it. Besides, you’re a good worker.’ He winked at her.
‘And I’m not in the habit of cutting off my nose to spite my face. There’s just one thing though. They’ll all know in there what you’ve been up to. You might get a bit
of trouble.’

‘I can stand that,’ Eveleen said, determined that she would. If Josh Carpenter was on her side, she didn’t care about anyone else.

He took her to the workroom and informed the woman in charge in a loud voice so that most of the other women could hear too that Eveleen Hardcastle had returned home from looking after her
grandmother.

The thin woman pursed her mouth in disapproval and glared at Eveleen, but she dared to say no more than, ‘Yes, Mr Carpenter.’

As she took her former place, Helen looked up. ‘You’ve got a nerve,’ she hissed. ‘Expect us to welcome you back here with open arms after what you’ve done, do you?
Well, we’re not going to speak to you. Not any of us.’

Eveleen looked around her. It seemed as if everyone was looking at her. Then, one by one, they averted their eyes and carried on with their work.

There was total silence throughout the workroom.

‘I’ve got me old job back,’ Eveleen told Mary and Rebecca when she returned home that evening.

‘We’ve been thinking about you all day,’ Rebecca said, placing a hot meat and potato pie in front of her. ‘We didn’t know whether you were still working there or
were tramping the streets looking for other work.’

Eveleen pulled a face as she sat down and picked up her knife and fork. After all the tribulations of the day, she was ravenous now. ‘I would be, if the other women had their way. None of
them are speaking to me.’

Rebecca gasped. ‘Not even Helen? I thought she was your friend.’

Eveleen shook her head and said sadly, ‘Not now, she isn’t.’

It was hard to brave the hostility every day. The silence continued for three days until the women began to talk among themselves, a little at first, and before long the buzz
of the workroom was back to normal. But still they excluded Eveleen.

The supervisor, never particularly friendly with anyone, now seemed to pick purposely on Eveleen. She found fault with her work and gave her the most difficult tasks to do. But the worst to bear
was the averted eyes, being passed on the stairs with heads turned away. It was as if she wasn’t there, as if she didn’t exist.

Eveleen kept her head down and worked steadily. She didn’t even look up when Brinsley Stokes and his son made their daily rounds.

It was Richard Stokes who unwittingly made matters even worse. As soon as he saw her, he wove his way between the workers and came to stand in front of her. ‘I’m pleased to see you
back.’ His deep voice was soft and gentle and there seemed, even to Eveleen’s cynical heart, to be genuine concern in his tone.

She glanced up at him briefly and murmured huskily, ‘Thank you, sir.’

She swallowed painfully. He didn’t know about her deception, she thought. He’s acting as if he thinks I’ve just returned from caring for my sick grandmother. She could feel the
tension around her. The disapproval of the other women seemed to come at her with the physical force of waves pounding the seashore. She bent her head over her work wishing he would go away and
leave her alone.

He was bending over her now, speaking softly to her. ‘I must leave you to your work, but I’ll see you again.’ As he moved away, she breathed a sigh of relief but once he had
left the room, the taunts began.

‘Oho, what’s she got that the rest of us haven’t, eh?’

‘Lifting your skirts for him an’ all, are you?’

‘Dropping her trousers, more like.’

Eveleen said nothing, but her fingers trembled. She had experienced the cruelty of men, but she had never thought that women could be so spiteful.

Eveleen put up with the situation for two weeks but then, even she had had enough. One evening as their working day ended, she rose to her feet and addressed the whole
room.

‘I want to apologize to you all for what I did. It was nothing personal against you. A lot of you’ – her glance took in Helen and one or two others sitting closest to her
– ‘were very kind to me when I first came here and I was very grateful.’

‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it,’ someone muttered.

‘I’m not going to stand here and give you a sob story to try to win your sympathy—’

‘You’ll have a job,’ someone else said scathingly.

Eveleen carried on. ‘But I did have my reasons for what I did. And they were good reasons.’

‘Aye, you wanted more money. Don’t we all? You didn’t stop to think of that, did you?’

Eveleen licked her lips. ‘It’s true, I did want more money, but not just for myself.’

Beside her, Helen slowly rose to her feet. ‘She won’t tell you herself, but I will.’

‘No, Helen, please—’ Eveleen began, but Helen held up her hand to silence her. ‘They ought to know. Then they can make up their minds whether they’re going to carry
on treating you this way – or not.’ Without even waiting for Eveleen’s agreement, Helen climbed on to her chair. Now she had the undivided attention of everyone in the room. It
was time to go home, but no one made a move to leave. Someone opened the door and stepped into the room, but no one looked around. No one took any notice. Even the supervisor was listening.

‘A few months ago Eveleen was living on a farm in Lincolnshire. Then her father died suddenly. He was found face down in a ditch.’ There was a ripple among the listeners. ‘It
was Eveleen who found him.’ The ripple grew louder and now there was a tentative feeling of sympathy. ‘They lived in a tied farmhouse and so the family were turned out of their home.
They came to Flawford, to Eveleen’s uncle. Jimmy, Eveleen’s brother’ – Helen smiled a little now – ‘was a bit of a lad. He got friendly with their cousin –
their
girl
cousin . . .’

Already some of the listeners were ahead of her. ‘That’s right,’ Helen nodded. ‘He got her pregnant. Her father turned them out and so they came to this district bringing
their cousin with them. So now there’s four people to support.’ Helen ticked them off one by one on her fingers. ‘Eveleen, her mother, Jimmy and Rebecca, the cousin. And
there’s a baby on the way. Eveleen got both her and Jimmy a job here. She worked here with us and Jimmy was in the machine shop.’

BOOK: Tangled Threads
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