Beyond a Misty Shore Page 5

  ‘Now, what can I help you with?’ Martha pressed, eager to be of help.

  ‘I’ve rather rashly promised to make everyone a new dress for this street party as it’s obviously going to be something of an occasion. I make most of our clothes, it’s something I’m quite good at even though I say it myself, and it does save money.’

  Martha looked very impressed, ‘Lizzie never said you were a seamstress.’

  Sophie smiled a little ruefully. ‘I’m not. I would have liked to have served my time at it but I didn’t have the chance. I had a teacher at school who taught me the basics and I sort of picked it up from there with the help of paper patterns.’

  ‘You really must have a talent for it then.’ Martha had never met anyone who had been blessed with a natural gift with the needle and Sophie Teare went up still further in her estimation.

  ‘Katie is going to look for materials when she goes into work tomorrow and both she and Maria will help me cut out, pin and tack—’

  ‘Katie Quine – pin and tack! Wonders will never cease! I didn’t think she could even sew a button on,’ Martha interrupted.

  ‘Under my supervision, of course. It’s not really hard. But if I have to do all the sewing by hand I doubt I’ll get them finished in time.’

  ‘Five frocks? Is Lizzie having one too?’

  Sophie nodded. ‘I couldn’t leave her out, she’s been kind enough to take us in and make us welcome.’

  ‘That’s very generous of you, Sophie,’ Martha replied. ‘So, how can I help?’

  ‘I wanted to ask you if you could mention to your Frank about the old treadle sewing machine that’s in the yard at . . . er . . . Nora’s house. Katie said she’s sure they have one although Aunty Lizzie said it would be rusted up, but if Frank could do something with it, it would be a huge help to me.’

  Martha’s expression changed. Her brows twitched together and her lips became set in a tight, thin line of disapproval. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie, but I don’t have anything to do with that Nora or her family. If you want to go over there and ask our Frank that’s up to you, but I’d strongly advise against it.’

  Sophie was taken aback. ‘Why? What on earth is wrong with them?’

  Martha glanced at her husband, who shrugged and gave a slight nod of his head. ‘I don’t imagine Lizzie has said anything about them?’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘Not really.’

  Martha sighed heavily. ‘Well, I suppose you’d better know and sooner rather than later; you are too nice a girl to be kept in the dark about that lot. Hardly anyone in this street has anything to do with them – decent folk that is. Bertie Richards is a work-shy, good-for-nothing, idle drunk and always has been! And Nellie isn’t much better; if she were she would have sorted their Nora out long ago. All the rest of them have left home. The Lord alone knows where they are now, but we did hear that one of the lads was in prison. As for that Nora!’ Martha bit her lip, smarting with humiliation, but if she didn’t tell Sophie then Lizzie would. ‘Well, luv, it broke my heart when our Frank got mixed up with her. I pleaded with him, Pat tried to reason with him, but he was besotted with her and wouldn’t listen. I could hardly hold my head up, for the shame. But then, after a while, he seemed to be going off her, and we thought he’d finally seen sense and saw her for what she really is.’ Martha paused and shook her head. ‘Then, doesn’t he go and marry her! They had to get married, of course, I still can’t get over the shame of it, and then he went off into the Navy with her flaunting her wedding ring and insisting on being called Mrs Ryan. Oh, when I think of him living over there in that . . . that pigsty! He wasn’t used to having to live like that; he was brought up to be decent, honest and hard working. I don’t know how he sticks it but he’s made his bed and he’ll just have to put up with it and her!’

  Understanding had begun to dawn on Sophie. Obviously Nora had got pregnant and Frank had done the decent thing and married her, even though Martha had said his feelings for her had changed. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Ryan. I didn’t know. These things do happen.’

  ‘Well, they shouldn’t and that’s why we don’t have anything to do with them,’ Martha replied sharply.

  ‘But surely you see your grandchild?’

  Martha uttered a bitter laugh. ‘What grandchild? There never was one, it was all just a pack of lies that little slut told him and like a fool he believed her!’

  Sophie looked shocked, feeling very sorry for both Martha and Frank and wondering how Nora could have done such a thing. Maybe she’d really loved him and had seen no other way of keeping him? It must be awful to be trapped in what was obviously a joyless marriage. ‘That was a terrible thing for her to do to him, I’m sorry.’

  Martha nodded slowly. ‘So now you know.’

  Sophie stood up, unsure what to do about the sewing machine. ‘I’ll just have to think of something else, I won’t go over now. I don’t think Aunty Lizzie would approve.’ She smiled wryly. ‘To use one of her favorite sayings, “we’ll manage”. I’m sorry for having brought the matter up.’

  ‘You weren’t to know, luv, but I think you’ve made the right decision.’

  When she got back only Lizzie and Jim were in the kitchen and her aunt informed her that Bella had been so tired that she’d had little trouble getting her to bed. Billy had been sent to bed in disgrace for some misdemeanour and Katie and John had taken Maria down the road to introduce her to a few of their mutual friends.

  ‘I don’t know where Maria gets her energy from, I’m exhausted, it’s been a very long day,’ Sophie said, sinking down in an armchair.

  ‘So, how did you get on?’ Lizzie asked, bluntly.

  ‘I’ll have to do them by hand, after what Martha Ryan told me I hadn’t the heart to go and ask about that damned sewing machine.’

  Lizzie shook her head sadly. ‘We’ve been friends for years and my heart goes out to that poor woman. She brought their Frank and Joan up honest and decent and she’s trying with their Robbie. Joan married well, she lives in New Brighton, and if that Nora hadn’t got her claws into Frank I’ve no doubt he’d have married a nice, respectable girl. Shocking family, the Richardses are, a disgrace to the street and the talk of the neighbourhood. And as for that Nora – words fail me!’

  ‘It was a terrible thing to do to tell him such a blatant lie, especially when he was going off to war,’ Sophie agreed.

  Jim lowered the newspaper he’d been reading. ‘I agree but he must have been playing with fire or she couldn’t have trapped him like that.’

  ‘And that wasn’t the end of it, as well you know, Jim.’ Lizzie lowered her voice as she turned back to Sophie. ‘The carry-on out of her while he was away too! Utterly disgraceful! I’d have killed our Katie with my own two hands if she’d behaved like that. Nellie should have put a stop to it but she didn’t, too busy sitting with her cronies in the pub. Their Nora had fellers in and out of the place by the minutes and we all know they weren’t there just for a cup of tea!’

  Sophie was really taken aback. Nora had been sleeping with other men? But that meant she couldn’t have loved Frank, as Sophie had first thought, not to do something like that while he was away risking his life. ‘How awful, how utterly humiliating for him. I . . . I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Well, Martha would hardly tell you, would she? She was mortified and absolutely furious. Oh, she had many a blazing row with both Nellie and Nora over it – much good that did.’

  ‘I don’t know why Frank put up with it, he knew what was going on. He had plenty of grounds for divorce,’ Jim said soberly. Divorce was something people seldom resorted to but in the light of Nora’s conduct quite a few of the men in the street felt the lad would be more than justified.

  ‘You know he’d never do that, Jim. Everything would come out in court and it would be in all the papers. It’s bad enough that the entire street knows what kind of a girl she is, but can you imagine what it would be like for the whole damned city to know?’

  Sophie sighed; Frank
Ryan’s life seemed to be such a terrible mess. ‘I’ll do the sewing by hand, maybe the girls will help.’

  Lizzie looked thoughtful. ‘If they take you on at Marsden’s maybe they’d let you do a bit on one of their machines, in your break, like.’

  Sophie brightened up. ‘I could ask; they can only refuse. That’s if they take me on.’

  ‘And why wouldn’t they? A fine girl like you and a dab hand at sewing?’ Lizzie said firmly.

  It was going to be a big day for Bella, starting a new school and hopefully making new friends. When Mam had woken her up she’d told her to get a good wash and get dressed and then she could have her breakfast, but everybody else seemed to be trying to do the same things and there was a lot of shouting and confusion, which she wasn’t used to at all.

  ‘It’s like a three-ringed circus in here,’ Maria hissed to Sophie as both their uncle and two older cousins rushed in and out between the kitchen and scullery, with Billy still half asleep getting in everyone’s way. Lizzie was on top note, firing instructions at everyone, which for the main part were ignored.

  ‘We’ll have to sort out a better system than this once we get jobs ourselves,’ Sophie muttered as she sat Bella at the table and spooned out porridge for the child.

  It seemed a minor miracle that all four of them were ready to leave at half past eight. Sophie and Maria were going to walk both Bella and Billy to school and then Sophie intended to go along to Marsden’s, while Maria said she would go and see just what kind of a place this Heaton’s Department Store was.

  Sophie was relieved to find that Miss O’Malley, who was to be Bella’s teacher, seemed both kind and sensible.

  ‘She’ll be just fine, Mrs Teare. I’ll keep my eye on her,’ she said confidently, and then she took Bella’s hand. ‘I think we’ll sit you next to Emily Taylor, Bella. She lives in Crocus Street, which is the next one to where you live and she’s the same age as you.’

  Sophie smiled encouragingly. ‘There you are, Bella. I told you there would be other little girls to make friends with. Perhaps you and Emily can walk home together?’

  Miss O’Malley smiled too. ‘What a good idea. Now, let’s go and find your desk.’

  As she watched them walk away Sophie felt a little anxious, hoping this Emily would indeed befriend her daughter, for everything was still so unfamiliar to Bella.

  ‘At least there were no tears or tantrums,’ Maria commented as they walked towards the tram stop.

  The girls parted company further along Stanley Road, full of enthusiasm for their plans, agreeing to meet up at this same tram stop when they’d completed their objectives.

  Maria arrived first, feeling hopeful and relieved. The shop had surprised her for it was not as small as she’d at first imagined. She’d wandered around a few departments but had lingered longest in Haberdashery, making a mental note of what was in stock.

  After fifteen minutes waiting she was beginning to get impatient and decidedly cold. At least her sister’s absence was a good sign, she thought as she walked up and down to keep her feet from becoming numb. Obviously Sophie hadn’t just been turned away with a curt refusal.

  It was another five minutes before she caught sight of her sister hurrying towards her, a smile on her face.

  ‘I’m sorry I was so long, Maria, but I had to wait to see Mr Phillips, he’s the manager, and I had to do some sewing to prove I can use a machine, but I’m to start tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Oh, Sophie, that’s great!’ Maria cried.

  ‘He was actually very nice and praised my bit of work and I assured him I’m diligent, neat and hard working. How did you get on?’

  ‘I didn’t see Katie but it’s a much bigger shop than she led us to believe. I looked around some of the departments – Aunty Lizzie was right, there’s not a lot of choice but I saw a couple of materials that might suit us and their selection of trimmings wasn’t too bad.’

  ‘Were they practical materials, Maria? There’s no point in buying something we won’t get much wear out of,’ Sophie asked.

  ‘I suppose so but I thought these were to be special dresses? Bella thinks she’s going to have a party frock.’

  Sophie sighed. ‘Oh, we’ll see.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘Who did you meet last night when you were out with Katie and John?’

  ‘Two girls called Ivy and Daisy Caldwell – they live at number ten and they were very friendly – and then two lads, Matt and Ben Seddon at number twenty,’ Maria informed her.

  ‘What were they like?’ Sophie probed.

  Maria shrugged. ‘All right, I suppose. They’d both been in the Army with John, but at least they had more to say for themselves than he did. Honestly, Sophie, all he does is stare at me.’

  Sophie grinned. ‘He’s a bit . . . in awe of you. I hope he isn’t falling for you, though,’ she added more seriously.

  Maria looked sceptical. ‘He’d better not. For one thing he’s my first cousin and for another, well . . .’ She shrugged, looking wistful.

  Sophie looked at her sister closely and then sighed. ‘I thought you’d got over him? You told Mam you had.’

  Maria’s dark eyes filled with tears. ‘I only said that to pacify Mam but I know I’ll never get over Hans, Sophie. I really loved him. You should know how I feel, you loved Andrew.’

  Sophie put her arm around her sister. ‘He’s gone, Maria. You know you’ll never see him again. He had no choice; they made them all go back to their own countries. You have to forget him and think about the future. That’s why we thought it best for you to come here to live. You’re young, you’ll meet someone else. There was no future for you with him, Maria. In most people’s minds there is little difference between Germans and Austrians. Hitler was Austrian, don’t forget.’

  Maria nodded miserably, but she couldn’t forget Hans. What Sophie had said about people thinking he was a Nazi sympathiser wasn’t true. He’d fled with his family before the Nazis had taken over his country. Being from a farming background they’d settled in Kent but when war had broken out, they’d been sent to the island and interned in Peel. Oh, why couldn’t he have stayed, she thought? Why had he been sent back with his parents and sister? If he’d been allowed to stay she was sure that in time people would have accepted him. Lots of people in Peel knew his family had left Austria before the war and had had no part in it at all. Hans Bonhoeffer and his father had hated Hitler and all he stood for.

  Sophie tried to cheer her up. ‘Here’s the tram. Let’s get back to Aunty Lizzie’s. We both need a hot cup of tea and at least we have some good news to tell her. Let’s hope Katie has some good news for you when she gets home tonight.’

  Maria dashed away her tears with the back of her hand. She knew Sophie was right but it didn’t help when she felt so miserable and bereft.

  Chapter Five

  OCTOBER WAS PASSING SWIFTLY and it was becoming much colder, Sophie thought as she walked home from the tram stop. It was a journey she was used to now. At least Maria had settled well into her job at Heaton’s. Her sister worked in their small millinery department, much to Katie’s envy. Katie worked in Soft Furnishings, which didn’t appeal to her a great deal. She complained that she had little interest in cushion covers, lampshades or curtains, while hats were entirely different. Everyone was interested in them, although there certainly wasn’t the wide selection now that had been available before the war. In fact lots of people tried to make their own, copying them from magazine pictures or those on display in the windows of shops like Hendersons and the Bon Marche, both of which had survived the bombing, but whose prices were beyond most people’s pockets.

  She, too, was getting on well at Marsden’s, although she couldn’t say she enjoyed it; far from it, for it was a world of heat, noise and constant, frenetic activity. The room she worked in was huge. Rows of sewing machines, in banks of two facing each other, filled it completely and the motorised belt that drove them ran on wheels above their heads, its loud clacking noise adding to the
general cacophony. Between the machines was a shallow wooden trough into which the finished garments were deposited. Every worker relied on all the others to keep the line going so she had soon learned to work very rapidly indeed.

  Having spent the entire day hunched over her machine, forcing the material under the drumming head of the needle, the noise of which was replicated by every other machine in the room, she always came out with a headache and stiff, aching shoulders and back. The pace of work was so relentless that there were often accidents. One of the girls who had long hair, which she wore loose, had got it entangled and but for the quick action of one of the pressers, who cut her free, would have been seriously injured. After that Mr Phillips had insisted that everyone wore turbans, but nearly every day someone was injured, usually by the needle piercing a finger or a nail. Still, the pay was good even if the conditions were not.

  She pulled the collar of her coat up around her ears and shifted the carefully wrapped parcel to her other arm, smiling to herself. Two days ago she’d plucked up courage to ask Albert Phillips if she could possibly use her machine for some personal sewing during her breaks and to her relief he had agreed. She’d explained about the dresses for the forth-coming party, which it had been decided would take place on 5 November, Bonfire Night, and he’d nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘So, you can make a complete garment from scratch, Mrs Teare? That’s quite unusual. Even though all the girls can use a machine very few of them can actually do that.’

  She’d smiled at him. He was a rather quiet, middle-aged man with a reserved manner, although he was a stickler for punctuality and hard work and didn’t suffer fools gladly. ‘I would have liked to have been a seamstress or a tailoress but I just didn’t get the opportunity.’

  He’d nodded. ‘Not many people do get what they want out of life. I’d have liked to have been a qualified engineer but I had to leave school as my mother needed the money. I’d like to see the finished garments, if you don’t mind, and there won’t be a problem about using the machine in your break,’ he added. If they were good he would see about having her transferred to the cutting room. Conditions were better and so was the pay and he liked her. She was quieter than most of the girls, pleasant and a good worker.