The Runaway Woman. Josephine Cox
happens to mess things up.’
‘Ah! But y’see, Lucy, that’s sometimes the way of it with families, but it won’t always be like that. You’re going through a bad patch at the minute, but it’s not your fault.’ Glancing up to see the foreman on the prowl nearby, she edged away. ‘Look, I’d best get on, but we’ll talk later. Meantime, don’t let the buggers get you down!’
Having quickly returned to her workbench, Kathleen was head down and working hard, until the shriek of the lunchtime buzzer pierced the air. ‘Come on, time for a break, Lucy!’ she called out, but Lucy was already on her feet.
‘Get your bag, Lucy, and let’s get outta here,’ Kathleen said. ‘Me poor ol’ feet have swelled up like two fat puddings, so they have.’
Lucy felt much the same. Sitting at the machines for hours was punishing. With a sense of relief the workers began to filter away in different directions: some to the canteen, some to the alley where they would have a quick cigarette; others headed to the four corners of the factory yard, to flop down wherever they felt comfortable.
Outside in the clean, fresh air, Lucy and Kathleen settled themselves on the wall at the back of the factory, with their legs dangling over the edge and their flasks of tea sitting side by side.
‘I’ve got cheese.’ Kathleen opened her lunch bag. ‘What have you got?’
‘Ham and tomato.’ Lucy offered up her box. ‘Want to swap?’
‘Oh, aren’t you the little angel now?’ Kathleen did not need asking twice. Holding out her puny sandwich, she made the exchange and licked her lips. ‘Go on then, Lucy. Your sandwiches are always better than mine.’
After pouring tea from the flask into a plastic cup, Kathleen was intent again on knowing what had been said in the manager’s office earlier. ‘She’s upset you, hasn’t she … the old divil?’ Kathleen gently pursued the subject. ‘You mustn’t let her get you down.’ Taking a bite of her sandwich, she waited for Lucy’s response.
Lucy remained silent for what seemed an age, and then she dug into her overall pocket and handed Kathleen an official-looking envelope. ‘Here. Read that.’
Kathleen gingerly opened it and read what it contained.
‘Jaysus, will ye look at that! An official, written warning … You should inform the union about this!’
‘No!’ Official aggravation of that kind was the last thing Lucy wanted. ‘Considering how many times I’ve been late, or not turned in at all, it’s like she said: I’m unreliable. She has every right to issue a formal warning. She also made it clear that if I can’t keep to regular hours from now on, or if I miss one more day without prior notice – unless it’s a matter of life and death – then I’ll be given my walking papers on the spot!’
She looked at the sandwich she was holding for a moment before sneaking it back into her lunch box. She had not only lost her appetite but, after the grilling she had been through in the office, she felt like a hopeless failure.
Kathleen had seen her reject the sandwich. ‘Hey,’ she pointed to Lucy’s lunch box, ‘you can’t go without yer food. Sure, that won’t solve nothing at all!’ She did understand how Lucy must be feeling, though. ‘Look, Lucy, I really think you should inform the union. Let me talk to the steward – he’s a sensible man. He’ll have a quiet word with her. Sure, it doesn’t have to go any further than that if you don’t want it to.’
Fearful, Lucy told her to leave it be and, being the good friend she was, Kathleen promised she would not say another word, though she was a natural rebel and could not be certain she would keep such a promise.
From previous conversations between herself and Lucy, it was clear to Kathleen that the family did put upon Lucy’s good nature, and she felt she had to mention it now. ‘As far as I can see, Lucy …’ she hesitated, before going on, ‘… there is only one solution to this.’
Intrigued, Lucy hitched herself further onto the wall. ‘Oh, and what’s that, then?’
‘Look, don’t take offence, but you must stop being a buffer for the family. They’re old enough to sort out their own problems. It’s not right that they should come running to you at every little hurdle. Y’see, the more you let them lean on you, the less responsible they’ll become for their own actions and misfortunes.’
‘But they’re my family, Kathleen. I can’t turn away from them when they come to me for help.’
‘Sure, I understand that, and I’ve helped my own family many a time – show me a parent who hasn’t – but we have to draw a line. We have to let them live and learn, allow them to search for their own solutions, otherwise how will they ever cope? I mean, you won’t be here for ever, will you, so how will they manage when you’re not there to pick up the pieces?’
‘I know what you mean. But it’s hard not to do what you can, if there’s a problem.’
‘True, but all I’m saying is, you need to be sure whether it’s a problem they could deal with themselves, and if it is, then you should maybe just give advice. That way, it’s right for them, and right for you. I’ve got four grown-up children, as you know, Lucy, and I promise you it took a long time for me to realise I could step back and leave them to deal with their lives themselves … much as we had to do when we were their ages.’
She laughed out loud. ‘I’ll admit we had a few hairy moments with our son Michael. He was the wild card of the family. Even after he got married and had a child, he leaned on us at every turn. But I promise you, we got there in the end, and so will you.’
When one of their colleagues threw a rolled-up newspaper to them, Kathleen caught it and quickly flicked through the pages.
‘Look at this!’ Holding the pages open, she showed Lucy the photograph of three young men. ‘Would you believe, killed in a car smash on the way to a mate’s wedding. They were so young … the families must have been devastated. But there you are … It just goes to show, you never know what’s round the corner, do you?’
Realising she and Lucy were the last two left outside, Kathleen leaped off the wall. ‘Hell’s bells, Lucy! Everybody’s gone. If we don’t get our backsides in there, we’ll know well enough what’s round the corner! It’ll be the length of the ol’ dragon’s tongue, so it will!’
With thoughts of those three young men in their minds, Lucy and Kathleen made their way back inside the factory.
‘I don’t know what I’d do if I got my walking orders from here,’ Lucy confided to Kathleen as they hurried to their machines. ‘If I lost my job, whatever would I tell Martin and the children?’
Kathleen wagged a finger at her. ‘There you go again!’ she chided. ‘More concerned about the family than you are about yourself! Put yourself first for a change, Lucy Lovejoy! Do that, and the chances of you losing your job will be less likely. OK?’ She gave Lucy a friendly wink.
Lucy smiled. ‘OK.’ In truth, she would not even know how to start putting herself first.
Eventually the loud screech of the works’ siren marked the end of another working day. The machines were switched off and an eerie silence fell across the vast open space of the factory floor.
Very soon, though, the silence was shattered by the march of many feet as the workers made their way out. And then the noise of hurrying feet was quickly overridden by shouts and laughter as everyone relaxed into ‘going home’ mode.
As always, Kathleen and Lucy merged with the other workers on their way out, but at the outer gates Lucy split away from Kathleen. ‘I’m walking home tonight,’ she explained.
Kathleen was surprised. ‘Even if you cut through the alleys, it’s a fair old walk to your street. But why walk when you can catch the bus as usual and be home that much earlier?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘No particular