A Daughter’s Disgrace. Kitty Neale
Alison under her breath for losing that factory job.
The bell over the door rang as Winnie Jewell came in, followed by a sharp gust of freezing wind.
‘Shut that!’ Cora exclaimed. ‘That’s coming straight from the Arctic, that is.’
‘At least you’re warm in here,’ shivered Winnie, rubbing her chapped hands. ‘What’ve you got round that counter, a heater? I can smell the paraffin from here.’
‘You need it, I can tell you.’ Cora was in no mood to take nonsense from the woman. ‘What can I do for you? Got your delivery all right, did you?’
‘I fancied something a bit extra,’ said Winnie. She patted her plaid headscarf. ‘Now our Vera’s at home in the daytime I thought I’d get her a Radio Times so she can have a bit of a treat, listen to programmes in the afternoon. Not that she’ll be doing that for long. She got herself a new job yesterday, up Arding and Hobbs. She starts next week. Cleaner place than that old factory and a better class of people.’ She stopped. ‘No offence, of course.’
‘None taken.’ Cora would bide her time and get the woman back for that one. Even if Alison left a lot to be desired, Winnie Jewell was hardly a cut above the rest. As for her daughter Vera, she wondered if Arding and Hobbs knew what they were in for.
‘Here you go.’ She reached across and took a Radio Times from the pile.
‘Thanks.’ Winnie began to flick through the pages. ‘Might as well take a look here where it’s warm. Vera’s favourite is “The Goon Show” but I think it’s a load of old nonsense. Here we are, there’s one this week. Don’t know what she sees in it but it makes her laugh.’
‘I have to agree with you there,’ said Cora. ‘Nothing but smut and stupid noises. You’d think the BBC had better things to put on. Not that my girls have much time to listen to such things.’
‘Oh?’ said Winnie. ‘I’d have thought your Alison would have all the time in the world these days.’
Cora hated it when anyone caught her out. ‘No, because we’re all going to be working every spare hour God sends to make sure our Hazel has a perfect wedding.’ She enjoyed the look of surprise on the other woman’s face. News must not have got round yet. ‘Yes, Hazel has got engaged to Neville Parrot, and we’re very happy for them.’
‘Oh, he’s a nice-looking bloke,’ said Winnie with approval. ‘Polite too. She’s a lucky girl.’
‘And he’s a very lucky lad,’ said Cora instantly. ‘Our Hazel could have had her pick, but it’s young love, and who am I to stand in their way.’
The two women fell silent for a moment. Then Winnie remembered something. ‘Where’s she getting her dress?’
‘We haven’t decided yet,’ Cora replied. She wasn’t about to start discussing the finances of the big day, or the fact that the dress would have to be home-made with material from the market.
‘Well, you know that shop that does wedding dresses and evening wear down towards Wandsworth?’ Winnie asked. ‘Always got a lovely frock in the window? Well, they’re a girl short and Vera was going to see them about it, but then she got the job at Arding and Hobbs. That’s much closer of course. But would Alison be interested?’
‘She might,’ said Cora, trying not to seem too keen. ‘I’ll tell her about it. That’s if she hasn’t found something already, of course.’
‘Of course,’ said Winnie, playing along. ‘Well, better not keep you. I’ll be off.’ She struggled to open the door against the freezing gale.
Cora sighed as the door slammed shut. Winnie could be irritating and she had a massive blind spot when it came to her wayward daughter but it was good of her to mention the job vacancy. She would definitely make sure Alison went to see about it tomorrow. Even if it was very different to what the girl was used to, it couldn’t be that hard. She might even get a staff discount. Now that would be very useful. Smiling with anticipation, Cora pulled the big ledger back towards her.
Next day Alison trudged down the hill towards Wandsworth, wondering if this was a good idea. She hadn’t had much choice. Her mother had come home full of Winnie’s suggestion and what a good thing it would be if she got the job at the dress shop. Hazel had leapt on it immediately, delighted at the idea of such elegant clothes at bargain prices.
‘But you don’t know that,’ Alison had protested. ‘They might not agree. They’d probably still be too expensive. And I haven’t even got the job yet.’
‘Don’t be such a killjoy,’ Hazel had flared. ‘Don’t you want me to look smart? I could get a wedding dress and a going-away outfit.’
‘Going-away outfit?’ This was the first Cora had heard of it. ‘Going away where? And why do you need a special outfit for it? You’ve got a perfectly good coat already.’
‘Oh Mum, that won’t be any good.’ Hazel pulled a face. ‘Everyone has a special suit to go away in. And of course Neville will take me somewhere, he just ain’t said where yet. I couldn’t possibly wear my coat. It’s not even new. I need something smarter. Did you see what Linda had on the other day? That was new this winter, and she didn’t even have anything special to wear it for.’
‘That’s because her Terry earns a decent wage,’ snapped Cora. ‘I keep telling you, but you don’t listen. When you get to Linda’s station in life, you can have all these luxuries. The rest of us have to get by as best we can.’
Alison cringed as she remembered how Hazel had flounced out, leaving her to deal with Cora, who of course said it was all her fault. So now the pressure really was on her not only to get the job, but to get a big discount as well. Anything less would leave her mother disappointed and her sister furious.
The hill down to Wandsworth was longer than she remembered. Maybe she should have taken a bus but until she knew when her next wage packet would be in, Alison didn’t want to spend anything more than she had to. She didn’t want to be accused of sponging off the household. At least she didn’t have to worry about the schoolboys around here, as it wasn’t likely she’d run into anyone she knew. She thought some people were looking at her oddly but couldn’t be sure as she avoided meeting their eyes. As usual, she withdrew into her shell, making no contact with anybody – the only way she felt safe. There was no point in going looking for trouble, especially when it seemed to find her so often.
By the time she reached the dress shop, she had blisters on both feet. She stood outside, mesmerised by the frock in the front window. She’d never seen anything like it. A slim mannequin was placed against a background of deep purple velvet, which made the silvery whiteness of the frock even more special. It had a full skirt and the bodice was embroidered with tiny white stars, only visible when she looked very closely. Glancing down at her own dull skirt poking out beneath her gabardine raincoat, she felt drabber than ever.
Gathering her courage, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The place smelt of flowers. Alison turned around and noticed a big display of roses arranged in a cut-glass vase.
‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ said a voice, and an extremely elegant woman came out of the back room, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from her dark sleeve. ‘Can I help you?’
Alison was at a loss for words. She tried to picture herself in the woman’s place, with eyebrows so finely drawn and hair sprayed into neat waves.
The woman tried again. ‘Can I help you?’
Alison wished the floor would open up and swallow her. Finally she said, ‘It’s about the job.’
‘The job?’
‘My mum was told you had a job going.’
‘Does she want to work in this establishment?’
‘No,’ Alison said. ‘It’s me. I need a job.’