this curt comment Mrs Pugh walked away, her back bent and walking stick tapping the pavement, and Mavis too resumed her journey. She had always been in awe of Edith Pugh, and on their previous encounters when the woman had worked at her school, Mavis found her changing personality bewildering. She could be very strict, blunt, and opinionated, yet there’d been times when she’d shown kindness when questioning her absenteeism. Edith Pugh and her son lived in Ellington Avenue, only a ten-minute walk from her own home in Cullen Street, but the difference between the two was stark. Ellington Avenue was tree lined, with bay-fronted houses that had gardens back and front. In complete contrast, the houses in Cullen Street were flat-fronted, two-up-two-down terraces, with just small, concrete backyards. There were no trees, and the only view was of the dismal houses opposite.
Mavis had been out so many times with the pram that she knew every road, lane, street and avenue in the whole area, but Ellington Avenue was one of her favourites, especially in May when the trees bloomed with froths of pink and white blossom.
At last Mavis reached Battersea Bridge, the river grey and sluggish, and the wind stinging her cheeks as she walked to the other side. On Cheyne Walk now, she hesitated while deciding which direction to take. She could try the houses facing the embankment, or those along Beaufort Street. Mavis crossed the road and turned left, a different route from her last forage. She was immune now to the looks of pity or disdain from people she passed; her one hope was that it wouldn’t take all day to fill the pram.
Edith Pugh was deep in thought. Despite the girl’s inability to read and write, she was sure that Mavis Jackson was bright, and not only that, the girl was pretty. Yes, but was Mavis malleable? There was only one way she could think of to find out and now, raising the handle of her cane, Edith rapped loudly on the door. Despite the pain, she managed to keep her back straight and her head high when it was opened.
‘Blimey, Edith Pugh. And to what do I owe this honour?’
Edith hid her feelings of disdain as she looked at Mavis’s mother. Despite being pretty, with a good figure, the woman looked a mess, her peroxide blonde hair resembling straw and her clothes totally unsuitable for a woman in her mid thirties. Edith knew her own hair was mousy brown, but she kept it immaculately permed, and made sure she always looked smart, her clothes nicely tailored. Forcing a smile, she said, ‘I’d like a word with you about your daughter.’
‘Why? What’s she been up to?’
‘Nothing, other than the fact that Mavis isn’t in school—but as she’s leaving soon I think it’s time you thought about her future.’
Lily’s head reared with indignation. ‘Now listen, lady, you may have been the school secretary but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do about my daughter.’
‘No, I’m not trying to do that,’ Edith said hastily. She hated that she had to affect an air of humility but nevertheless forced her tone to sound contrite. ‘Oh, dear, I’m so sorry, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot. You see, I came to see you about offering Mavis a job.’
‘A job? What sort of job?’
‘I’d rather not discuss it on the doorstep. May I come in?’
‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ Lily said, ‘but you’ll have to excuse the mess.’
Edith was unable to help her eyebrows rising as she went inside. The room was indeed a mess, with piles of junk spread over the linoleum. She could see rusted old saucepans, a frying pan black with grease, and a few odd pieces of cutlery amongst the jumble. In another heap she saw china, mostly chipped, and in her opinion only fit for the dustbin. There was a sheet of newspaper on the table on top of which Edith saw an old, dented kettle that Lily had obviously been trying to polish up.
‘You’d best sit down,’ Lily said.
Edith pulled out a chair and looked at it fastidiously before sitting.
‘Right, what’s this about a job?’ Lily asked as she too sat down.
‘I’m afraid it’s only part time, but I’d like Mavis to work for me. You see, in my early thirties I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and, due to relapses, I had to give up work last year.’
‘Yeah, I’d heard, but didn’t know why.’
Edith ignored the interruption. She wanted to get this over with, to leave this dirty house and its many germs behind. ‘I’m only forty-three now, but my disabilities are worsening, so much so that I need help around the house and with cooking. With your agreement, I’d like Mavis for two hours a day, and an hour at weekends.’
‘Two hours a day ain’t much of a job and, anyway, Mavis is a clumsy cow. I don’t think you could trust her not to break anything.’
‘I’m sure she’d be fine with simple tasks, and I can teach her to be less clumsy. It’s just a matter of training.’
‘Leave it out. I know my daughter and gave up on her years ago.’
‘I’m willing to take the risk. I’ll also pay her one shilling an hour, which is a good rate for a young, unskilled domestic worker.’
‘It ain’t bad, but I want her to work for me when she leaves school.’
‘Surely you could spare her for a couple of hours a day?’
Lily’s eyes narrowed in thought, and then she began to count on her fingers. ‘I make it twelve hours in total, and she’d earn twelve bob. Yeah, all right, for that money I can spare her, but I warn you, don’t come complaining to me if she breaks anything.’
‘I won’t. I’d like to show Mavis her duties before she starts. Would you send her round to see me?’
‘Yeah, but there’s no hurry. She doesn’t leave school until the end of term.’
‘I really could do with her before then. Until she leaves, could she perhaps do an hour after school, and two on Saturdays and Sundays?’
‘Yeah, but she can’t start today. It’ll have to be tomorrow.’
‘That’s fine.’
‘I’ll send her round to see you later.’
‘Thank you,’ Edith said, but as she stood up a muscle spasm caused her to gasp in pain. For a moment her vision blurred and she felt off balance, but then thankfully the moment passed. She reached out to grasp her cane and walked slowly to the door, saying as she was shown out, ‘Goodbye, Mrs Jackson.’
‘Bye,’ Lily chirped back.
When the door closed behind her, Edith heaved in a breath of fresh air. She’d done it. The first stage of her plan was in place. She just hoped Mavis was the perfect choice.
Lily picked up the half-polished kettle, her mind full of the visit as she started to polish the other side. If Edith Pugh really could teach Mavis to be less clumsy, it would make all the difference. The woman had said she was forty-three, but dressed as though she was middle aged. Matronly, that was the only way to describe Edith Pugh; but she had sounded so sure of herself when talking about Mavis. Maybe she was right—maybe it was down to training.
Lily knew she should have tried harder with Mavis but, busy trying to make ends meet, she just hadn’t had the time,
