Bia's War Read online

  “‘No, you don’t have to do it again. I’m just trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit.’ Sam said. ‘I know how much it’s shaken you to have him forcing his way into your house and none of us want it to happen again, but you mustn’t dwell on it. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work. They’ll be docking my pay if I’m out much longer.’

  “I knew he had to get back to the works, but I was extremely grateful for what he’d done for me that day. Even though I prided myself on my independence, it had been good to know I had someone close on whom I could rely in a crisis. It marked the next stage in our relationship. We were now very good, close friends.”

  Victoria had been silent all through this monologue, concentrating on what her grandmother was telling her but also trying to imagine what it must have been like to have faced down a bully like Dennison.

  “Did he come back, the pig butcher I mean?” She asked. “Or did he learn his lesson and stay away from you and Hannah?”

  Nana Lymer smiled a rather wan smile.

  “He stopped bothering us about Hannah,” she said. “But that wasn’t the last I saw of him, not by a long way. But I’m tired now, pet. I think I could do with a little nap to recover from all this talking. Why don’t you come back tomorrow and we’ll talk about it then? Is that ok?”

  Victoria felt incredibly guilty for keeping Nana talking when she was obviously tired. She berated herself for not keeping an eye on her and stopping her when she started showing the first signs of fatigue. Victoria could clearly see the dark rings under her grandmother’s eyes, standing out starkly because her face was very pale. She tucked her up into the blankets and then tiptoed out of the room, silently promising that she would take more care of Nana tomorrow.

  Chapter Six

  The next day was Christmas Eve and Victoria knew it was going to be a bad day before she even got downstairs. She could hear her mother’s voice from the bathroom while she was cleaning her teeth, the decibel level and the screech level both pointing to one of her mother’s bad moods. As she walked downstairs, hoping that her mother was only complaining to a delivery man, the decibel level rose and Victoria could make out the subject of her mother’s diatribe.

  “Why wasn’t the bread ready for collection? Don’t they know that it’s Christmas Eve and the world and his wife will be coming in for extra bread to get them through the holiday? What am I supposed to tell the customers? Sorry, you’ll have to wait till next week before you can have a loaf.”

  Victoria couldn’t make out what her father said in reply. His deeper tone and the fact that he was keeping his temper remarkably well meant that she couldn’t make out the words he was using, but she could tell that he was trying to be reasonable and to make his wife see sense. Victoria couldn’t understand why he never shouted back at her mother or why he always kept his temper with her, but that was how it was. She opened the door and slipped into the kitchen, wincing as the volume coming from her mother rose even higher. She hoped that the tardiness of the bakery would keep her mother occupied but it was a vain hope as her mother turned on her the instant she got through the door.

  “Don’t be thinking that you can spend all day today sitting with her upstairs again, cos you can’t. It’ll be all hands to the pumps today. It’s Christmas Eve, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know it’s Christmas Eve and I also know that I’ll have to work in the shop today because it will be busy.” Victoria hoped to head her mother off at the pass, but she failed again.

  “Too right you’ll have to work in the shop. That’s what keeps you in fancy clothes, you know miss. It’s only right that you take your turn working with the rest of us. I can’t be expected to do everything on my own.”

  Victoria’s dad had had enough.

  “You don’t do everything on your own. I’m in there all day, every day, as well as you. I’m now going back to the bakery because the bread should be ready by now and I’ll be back and have it in the display case before we open. Can we just get on with it, please?”

  And he disappeared out of the side door, making good his escape before his wife found something else to complain about. He needn’t to have bothered because Bia had found her next victim and wasn’t going to let go of this one quite so easily.

  “Right,” she began. “You can take Nana Lymer her breakfast and then, when you’ve had yours, I want you out there in the shop ready to fill up shelves and weigh potatoes out ready for us opening. They’ll all want extra veg today and we’re not losing any sales just because the shelves are half empty.”

  “Yes, Mam.” Victoria said, as she hoisted the tray bearing Nana’s breakfast into her arms and set off for the stairs.

  “And don’t be spending too long giving her that tray. You only need to put it in front of her and she can do the rest herself.” Her mother couldn’t resist having the last word, even when there hadn’t been any argument. Victoria sighed as she mounted the stairs, wondering if her mother would ever speak nicely to her or if that was a pipe dream never to be realised.

  Nana was sitting up in bed waiting for her breakfast, the bed jacket wrapped tightly round her little frame and a heart-warming smile on her lips.

  “Good morning, pet,” she said, as soon as Victoria opened the door. “We won’t be able to have our little chat today, will we? Your mother’s on top form already and it’s not eight o’clock yet. I could hear her from here.”

  Victoria smiled a little ruefully.

  “We’ve no chance of getting even five minutes today. She was on the warpath before I even got downstairs. The bakery hadn’t got our order ready when Dad went for it so she was declaring that we wouldn’t have any bread and the customers will all go elsewhere. Dad’s gone to get it now, though, cos they’d told him it would be ready before we opened.”

  “That’s your mother, pet, always makes a drama out of a crisis, I often wonder where she gets the energy from to complain so much. Never mind, we should get some time tomorrow afternoon, after Christmas dinner.”

  “I certainly hope so, Nana, because I won’t be able to stand being in the same room with her all day, not when the shop’s closed and she can concentrate on putting right all my faults.”

  “I know, chick. I don’t understand why she has such a down on you. It isn’t as though you are a bad lass, trawling the streets and making a name for yourself. You go to school and do your homework when you should; you get good exam results and you work hours in the shop for very little reward. If you ask me, your mother doesn’t know a good daughter when she sees one, but if she keeps harping on at you she’ll push you away completely. You get back downstairs before she starts again and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Ok Nana. You have a rest today and get the next part of the story ready for me.”

  It was very busy in the shop all morning. Victoria didn’t have chance to think about anything other than the customer she was serving. Every time one customer was satisfied, another appeared in their place and it was well after lunchtime before they even got chance to have a coffee break. They took it in turns to snatch a sandwich each for lunch, then, as the tide of customers seemed to be abating, Victoria filled every shelf she could find with every tin, box and tube she could find, so that the shop was still well-stocked. By four o’clock, the tide of customers had turned into a trickle and she was amazed when her mother stopped her from filling up the fridge with more cheese.

  “That’ll do, Victoria. I reckon that the rush is over now. Go and see if Nana is ok and you can stay with her till I call you for your tea.”

  Victoria was terrified that her mother would change her mind before she got out of the shop, but there was no screech following her as she climbed the stairs.

  “It’s quietened down in the shop so Mam said I could come and sit with you! Isn’t that great?”

  “That’s wonderful, pet. Are you too tired to make a drink, only I’m dying of thirst?”

  “Of course I will, Nana.” Victoria said. “Shall I bring some biscui
ts up? To keep us going till tea-time?”

  “You do that, pet. That sounds lovely. I’ll get my thoughts in order because I wasn’t expecting you today.”

  Victoria rushed back down into the kitchen, put the kettle on, got the cups and the biscuits and then hopped from foot to foot, willing the kettle to boil quicker so that she could escape before her mother came into the kitchen and announced that she had changed her mind about Victoria sitting upstairs. But the coast was still clear when the tea was ready and Victoria carried it back up to Nana’s bedroom and then settled herself down in her favourite chair for the next instalment.

  “We didn’t hear any more from the pig butcher after his bath and thoughts of him and what else he might do were wiped from our minds when there was an accident in the iron works.” Nana Lymer began the next part of her story. “The first I knew about it was when one of the cooling towers exploded and the noise was heard all over the town. People went out into the streets to find out what had happened, but then a huge pall of black smoke, pushed by the strong wind, came from the direction of the ironworks and nobody could stay out in it for long. The smell alone was horrendous, but the black smoke billowed down every street in the town, whirling through every open door and window and leaving a layer of black ash over everything it touched. People who had run towards the works came back with their faces and clothes covered in it, coughing and retching as though they were going to bring up their insides.”

  “Some of the houses which were in the streets surrounding the works were damaged by the force of the explosion and three women and a child were killed by falling masonry. It was a terrible time for the town and even the War was forgotten while rescuers dug survivors out of the rubble and collected the dead from inside the works. Four workmen were killed altogether; bringing the total of the dead to eight, but the number of the wounded was a shock to us all. Over forty workmen were injured, some badly, some not so badly and that led to a lot of misery in the town. There was an investigation into what had happened and the report later produced blamed some of it on working practises. The war was using up iron and steel faster than the works could produce them and there had been corners cut to increase output, with the inevitable conclusion being the explosion.”

  “After the dust had settled, literally, there were families who had lost their breadwinner and families who were temporarily without income and the town pulled together to help them. There was a fund set up to help and all the businesses in the town made a donation, my little shop included, so that no-one would starve, but life was still very tough for a lot of people, coming on top of the families who had lost their breadwinners because of the war.”

  “One such family was the I’Anson family who lived at number 46 Queen Street. Mrs I’Anson had shopped with me from the day I had opened my first shop, spending nearly all her husband’s wages, apart from what was needed for the rent, on food in my shop. Two weeks after the explosion in the works, when the rescue money had been doled out to the needy families, I was in the window of the shop, putting up a display of skirts which I had made for those women who were now working and didn’t have the time to make their own clothes anymore.”

  “Mrs I’Anson, who was a tiny little thing who looked as though a good puff of wind would knock her over, passed the window about five times, but never came in. I was puzzled by her behaviour, particularly because she didn’t have any of her five children with her and I did wonder who was looking after them for her. I had a lot of time for the I’Anson family, because the husband was a hard worker who always worked whatever overtime was going and didn’t waste any of his money on drink. Mrs I’Anson looked after the children who were always spotlessly turned out and who were very well behaved. I didn’t have to keep a close eye on any of her children when they were in my shop, not like some children who were trained in shop-lifting from an early age.”

  “Mr I’Anson had been wounded when the explosion occurred in the ironworks but, luckily, he had been hauled out of the rubble with only cuts and abrasions and a broken leg. The broken leg had been set, but would obviously take time to mend and, although the works were soon up and running again, it was going to be a while longer before he would be able to work (and get paid) again.”

  “All of this was running through my head as I continued to arrange the skirts in what I hoped was an attractive display in the window facing Queen Street. We were lucky in that we had another window on the other side of the shop which faced out over King Street, us being on the corner of the two streets, making my displays visible to anyone who walked past.”

  “The sixth time she walked past, Mrs I’Anson stopped right at the corner of the two streets and seemed to be making a decision. After a couple of minutes, and I must admit I had stopped work and was watching her; she turned about and finally entered the shop. She hesitated in the doorway and then spied me where I was perched on the window ledge, giving one of the skirts a good shake to make it look more attractive.”

  “Mrs I’Anson came towards me, looking as though she was heading into battle and by-passing both Hannah and Annie as she did so. When she reached me she stopped and, in a very quiet voice, asked if she could have a word with me in private. I could see that she had wound herself up for something which she obviously considered to be very serious, so I invited her through into the kitchen, so that we wouldn’t be overheard. I closed the kitchen door behind us, which was something we rarely did so Annie and Hannah would know not to disturb us, and invited Mrs I’Anson to take a seat at the kitchen table. When we were both seated comfortably, she stayed silent, wringing her hands together and glaring at them as though they had a life of their own and she couldn’t control them.”

  “‘You wanted a word with me, Mrs I’Anson,’ I prompted her, when the silence between us had stretched to a couple of minutes. ‘Please, you can say what you want to me. It will remain private between us; you have my word on that.’ I could tell that she had no idea where to begin, but her hesitation was making the whole situation worse for her and I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.”

  “‘I, I er need to ask you a favour, Mrs Drinkwater,’ she finally said, continuing the hand-wringing and still not raising her face from them. ‘You’ll have heard that my Bert was one of the workmen injured in the explosion?’”

  “I knew that she wasn’t expecting me to answer that so I just nodded and she continued with her tale.”

  “‘We got some money from the fund which was set up to help people like us, but it wasn’t a huge amount and, not to put too fine a point on it, we’ve now spent it all. I think I’ve spent it wisely but the fact remains that it’s now all gone and I’ve got the children to feed.’”

  “I noted that she only mentioned feeding the children and she rose even more in my estimation, because it was obvious that she put her and her husband’s welfare right at the bottom of her list of concerns. I understood how she felt because I had always felt like that about Simon, as long as he was well-fed and happy, it didn’t matter about me.”

  “‘I wondered if you would take my wedding ring as payment for some food and hold it, so that I could buy it back from you when Bert gets back to work.’ she asked.”

  “It had cost her a great deal to beg like that and I knew that she had only done it for the sake of the children. When she had finished speaking, her whole body slumped down on the chair and she looked like a condemned man. She was obviously expecting me to refuse to help her, but she wouldn’t give up before she had tried everything she could think of to feed her children.”

  “I put out my hand and patted her on her arm.”

  “There’s no need for you to lose your wedding ring, Mrs I’Anson.” I replied immediately. “You can have your weekly shopping for as long as it takes Mr I’Anson to get back to work and then you can pay me back as and when you are able. I would do anything to make sure that my Simon is fed and provided for, so I fully understand how you must be feeling.”

  “The relief on her f
ace was indescribable. It was though someone had lit a lamp behind her eyes and her joy shone out over me. She insisted on leaving her wedding ring with me, even though I told her I didn’t need collateral for her loan and, to cut a long story short, when her husband got back to work, the first thing she did was to repay the money and receive her wedding ring back. I didn’t charge her the full amount for her groceries because I knew life would be difficult for them even after Mr I’Anson was working again, especially when I discovered that their landlord had insisted on having all of his back rent paid in full. The next time one of mine and Sammy’s houses came available, I offered it to the I’Ansons at a rent lower than what they had been paying for number 46 and they moved happily into it.”

  “That poor woman!” Victoria exclaimed. “How could her landlord expect her to be able to pay their rent when her husband had been injured? You were very good to her, letting her have the food cheaper and then finding them somewhere to live.”

  Nana Lymer shook her head.

  “I wasn’t being a saint, Victoria,” she answered. “I admired that couple because they put their children before themselves, the same as I did, and I had no intention of making a profit out of their misfortune. I wouldn’t have been able to live with my conscience if I had done that. But I haven’t told you about the I’Ansons to make me look good, I’ve told you because it had a bearing on what happened to me next.”

  “I don’t think that Mr or Mrs I’Anson told anyone else how they had been helped, but word seemed to get round that I would take certain goods in payment for food when times were hard and it wasn’t long after this that I found myself running a small pawn-broking business alongside the shop. I was very careful about what goods I would accept and from whom, because I had no intentions of being caught for fencing stolen items, but I regularly accepted wedding rings and other small items of jewellery, as well as things like silver tea sets or boxes and supplied food to the value of my estimation of their worth. I say my estimation of their worth because I had no specialist knowledge of gold and silver, but I made my estimations on the price of similar items in the jewellery shops’ windows, always subtracting a percentage which I felt was added as the profit on each item.”