and Hazel’s constant bullying. ‘We can’t expect her to make the journey all the time. Not when she’s so far away down in Kent and she’s got little June to look after.’
Cora’s expression softened. Her three-year-old granddaughter was the apple of her eye and could do no wrong. Linda had done well for herself, marrying truck driver Terry Owens and moving from the crowded terraces of Battersea out to the wide spaces of Kent, but the icing on the cake was the arrival of June. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to protect the little girl.
‘Well, maybe Hazel’s latest will bring them back here sooner than usual,’ Cora said. ‘Right, enough of you standing around doing nothing. Go and take those filthy factory overalls off and then get yourself in the kitchen to help with the dinner. Those spuds won’t peel themselves and my poor hands won’t stand it, so it’s all down to you.’
The factory wasn’t far away but Alison always arrived tired and out of breath from scurrying along the street trying not to be noticed. It never worked. The following week, on Friday morning, two of the paperboys from the local newsagent-cum-corner shop had been the ones to torment her. The fact that her mother worked in the same shop didn’t deter them.
Now she made her way to the small canteen to grab a warming cup of tea before starting her shift. It was freezing outside and her own house was little better, as Cora always said there was no point in lighting the fire if nobody was going to be home. ‘Look who’s here,’ called Ron Small as she approached. She forced herself not to turn and run away. Ron was the father of young Jimmy Small and had an even crueller way with words than his son. ‘Watch your milk, folks. One look from her’ll curdle it.’ He laughed at his own joke, though some of the women standing around the tea urn glanced at him sharply. ‘Cheer up, love, it might never happen.’ He gave a heartless chuckle and moved off.
‘Don’t you pay him no mind,’ said Betty Shawcross, handing Alison a cup. ‘Not exactly God’s gift himself, is he?’ She buttoned her overall. ‘Empty vessels and all that. Nobody takes him seriously and neither should you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Alison nervously. Even though many of the women she worked with were kind to her, she couldn’t help feeling that this might change at any moment, although she’d been working with them for several months. She just wasn’t used to it. The only person who’d ever been nice to her was her big sister Linda, and these women hardly even knew her. She found it hard to know what to say to them, as she’d always felt safer staying in her shell. She sometimes wondered if she should try to make friends with them but as she’d never really had any she wasn’t sure how to start.
‘Come on, we’ve been called to a meeting outside the foreman’s office,’ said Marjory Weekes. ‘All of our section is to report there in five minutes. So give me a cuppa sharpish. If this is about laying people off then I’m going to get one last drop of tea out of them.’ She pulled off her bright headscarf and dug in her pockets for her factory regulation cap.
‘Don’t say that, you’ll frighten the girl,’ said Betty protectively, noticing how alarmed Alison looked, and hoping Marjory was talking her usual nonsense. None of them could afford to lose their job. They weren’t that well-paid but it was regular work, nine to five. It was typical Marjory, speaking before she thought.
Alison shuddered. She dreaded what her mother would say if she came home without work. The best day of the week was when she brought back her wages and handed them over to Cora, who was always so pleased to see the money that she’d almost be pleasant to her youngest daughter. It was the only thing that didn’t make her feel completely worthless, and she knew how much her mother relied on her contribution.
There was a commotion at the door as a young woman rushed in. Vera Jewell was cutting it fine as usual, shaking out her shiny curls and unbuttoning her fashionable mac in one fast and fluid movement. She caught Alison’s eye and grinned. They were almost the same age and Alison had managed a few conversations with her without being rebuffed, which was a welcome novelty. She wondered if she might be able to make a proper friend of her if she could only hold her nerve.
Vera joined the group of women as they made their way along to the meeting. Alison was trying to look on the bright side. Maybe it was a new rule they all had to know about, or a change to the machinery. She hoped it wasn’t going to be something difficult. Learning something new always made her extra clumsy. Once she got the hang of something she was fine but the thought of everyone looking at her for the first few goes made her nervous, then her hands would shake and she’d make a mess of it.
‘Morning, ladies,’ said the foreman, even more careworn than usual. ‘I won’t keep you waiting. Some of you will have heard the rumours going round that we’ve lost the Pagett’s contract. I’d love to be able to tell you it’s a load of tosh but sad to say, it’s true.’ There was a gasp at this. Clearly it was news to most of them. ‘Right,’ he went on briskly, obviously keen to get it over with. Sweat was beginning to appear on his balding head. ‘You’re not daft. You’ll have worked out what that means – we can’t keep all of you on without those orders coming in. So it’s last in, first out.’ He glanced at a piece of paper he’d been holding. ‘Mrs Tullis, Miss Jewell, Miss Butler. That’s you. Come into my office, please. The rest of you – back to work.’ He turned and opened his office door.
Vera turned and pulled a face but Alison shut her eyes in horror. This couldn’t be happening. What was she going to do now? It was all she could do not to cry out in despair.
‘You all right, love?’ asked Betty, briefly touching her arm in the kindly way she had with everybody. ‘You’ve gone all pale. Don’t take on. You’ll be fine, a hard worker like you, young, fit and healthy. You’ll have no problem getting something else. An’ anyway, you’ll be better off away from the likes of that Ron Small.’
Alison made an effort to pull herself together and nodded grimly. But a little voice inside her head told her it wasn’t going to be quite as simple as that.
‘I might’ve flamin’ well known it was too good to last,’ snapped Cora as she came through the door. ‘Useless lump like you. What was it you did to get the sack? Knock something over, clumsy great thing that you are?’ Cora hadn’t had to wait until she got home to hear the news. One of the blessings of working in the newsagent’s was she managed to pick up all the gossip as soon as it started, and Vera Jewell’s mother had been straight in there the moment she learnt her own daughter was out of a job. Winnie Jewell had been incensed on Vera’s behalf, wanting to make an official complaint, claiming the foreman had been unfair and that her daughter was an innocent victim who deserved to be taken back. But Cora wasn’t having any of it. Secretly she was surprised Alison had lasted as long as she did. She was also sure that Vera Jewell, whose lipstick was always bright scarlet, couldn’t be described as innocent in any way.
‘I didn’t do anything,’ Alison protested, going to put the kettle on in the vain hope a cup of tea would keep her mother quiet. ‘It was last in first out. Betty Shawcross said I was a hard worker. I’ll get a good reference. I didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘Well, you needn’t think you can sit around here on your arse all day,’ Cora warned her. ‘You’ve got to earn your keep and more besides. I’ll need your wages more than ever if that sister of yours insists on marrying that good-looking layabout across the road. She says she’s in love! What’s that got to do with anythin’?’ she snorted in derision as her youngest passed her a cup.
Alison raised her eyes
