A Woman’s Fortune. Josephine Cox

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little hallway Mr Bailey turned to her and smiled, and it was a smile she understood.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      Frederick Bailey showed Evie and Jeanie into a beautifully decorated room overlooking the square. Evie realised she was gaping at all the ornaments on every surface and quickly closed her mouth.

      ‘So, Mrs Carter … Pendle’s. I do hope everything is all right. I haven’t been over to the old place for a long while. I’ve a man who sees to things like that for me.’

      ‘Oh, yes, I haven’t come to complain,’ said Jeanie, sitting down in an armchair that Frederick Bailey indicated. ‘But we’ve been there more than a week now and hadn’t heard from anyone, and I was wondering … that is, we wondered … about the rent …’

      When her mother seemed to have ground to a halt, Evie continued, ‘And my grandmother is a very talented seamstress and wants to open a sewing business in the shop part. We thought we’d better make sure that was all right … that you’d allow it and that we can paint the place and make it more suitable.’

      ‘You may do as you like,’ Frederick Bailey said. ‘I’m not a man for strict rules and regulations.’

      ‘So we can go ahead?’ asked Evie eagerly. She couldn’t help her wide grin – this was exactly what she had hoped for. ‘Thank you.’

      Mr Bailey laughed. ‘Well, I’m glad about that,’ he said.

      ‘What about the rent?’ prompted Evie. She looked sideways at her mother but Jeanie seemed lost in thought and was gazing around the room with real interest. ‘We mean to make a go of the sewing, and my dad has a job, too, so we can pay what’s fair.’

      ‘Ah, so there’s a Mr Carter … I was wondering about your father,’ said Mr Bailey. ‘What is it he does?’

      ‘He works at Clackett’s market garden, across from Pendle’s.’

      ‘Does he indeed?’ Mr Bailey paused to think. ‘Well, how about ten shillings a week? How does that sound?’

      ‘Oh, Mr Bailey, that’s marvellous! Ten shillings? Are you sure that’s all?’ gasped Evie. Again she looked at her mother, but she was still distracted by the unusual room and gave no reaction.

      Frederick Bailey waved a hand as if to dismiss the subject. ‘I’ll have my man, Jack, collect the payments.’

      ‘Jack? Would that be Jack Fletcher? We haven’t met him yet but it was he who arranged for us to come to Pendle’s.’

      ‘Yes, Jack Fletcher works for me. No doubt you’ll meet him soon. There’s nothing for you to worry about, Evelyn.’

      ‘It’s all becoming clearer now.’

      Evie realised how anxious she’d become about their new home and these people none of them had met. What a relief it was to have it all sorted out. Coming here today had been exactly the right thing to do.

      ‘Thank you, Mr Bailey,’ she said. She nudged her mother, who was still occupied with her own thoughts. ‘Mum …?’

      ‘Thank you, Mr Bailey. That’s right good of you,’ Jeanie said, smiling up at him.

      ‘Please, call me Frederick. Now, forgive my manners, I should have offered you tea, but I’m without Mrs Summers, as you know only too well.’

      ‘Let me help,’ Jeanie said without hesitation, throwing off her distraction. She was on her feet instantly.

      ‘That’s uncommonly kind of you, Mrs Carter.’

      ‘Jeanie, please.’

      ‘Jeanie. Why don’t we all go down?’

      He led the way into the hall, pushing fragments of the broken ornament aside with his foot, then down a curving staircase at the end to a basement kitchen that looked old-fashioned and equipped very much as Mrs Russell’s was, to Evie’s eye. She could imagine Annie being quite at home here, though Annie wouldn’t have had the dirty breakfast crockery piled up in the sink. The cups Mr Bailey set out were a strange mix: a pot mug and a couple of delicate teacups of different sizes with mismatched saucers. Didn’t he have a tea set to use when visitors came, Evie wondered.

      ‘This is pretty,’ she said, taking up one of the fine cups to admire it while her mother saw to the kettle.

      ‘Yes, but almost worthless without its own saucer, I’m afraid,’ said Frederick. He searched absent-mindedly for the tea caddy, which Jeanie found in an obvious cupboard next to the stove, then asked his two visitors about their plans for the sewing business while the tea was brewing in a brown Bessie pot, just like the one at home.

      ‘My mother’s idea,’ said Jeanie.

      ‘It’s Grandma who’s the expert,’ said Evie proudly. ‘She’s brilliant at sewing and can do all sorts of things – make clothes and do alterations and mending, too. She made that jacket Mum’s wearing.’

      ‘Evie …’ tutted Jeanie.

      ‘Very pretty,’ said Frederick, looking at Jeanie, who gazed straight back at him, smiling.

      ‘And she can make up a pair of curtains in no time.’

      ‘She sounds very special, your grandmother,’ Frederick said, handing round the china cups and saucers and taking up the mug of tea himself. ‘And are you both going to work with her?’ He looked at Jeanie when he asked this but it was Evie who answered.

      ‘Oh, yes. Grandma wouldn’t have it any other way,’ she prattled on. ‘She’s a great one for family sticking together.’

      ‘Well, I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Jeanie quietly but firmly. ‘It’s you and Grandma who have the eye and the patience for sewing. I never helped with the mending in Shenty Street. I reckon you could get on fine without me.’ She ignored Evie’s open mouth of astonishment. ‘What I was wondering, Frederick, was if you think Mrs Summers has left for good and whether you are in need of a cleaner? Or …’ she looked around and then back to him with her pretty smile, ‘… a housekeeper?’

      Frederick began laughing quietly.

      What on earth was funny? And what was Mum on about? Evie felt her heart thumping loudly. Starting the sewing business had been decided, hadn’t it? She looked from her mother to Frederick Bailey and suddenly felt something was happening here that she didn’t understand.

      Jeanie was standing waiting quite calmly for him to answer her.

      ‘A housekeeper … Do you know, Jeanie, I think you’d be quite perfect,’ he said eventually.

      ‘But, Mum, what about the sewing?’ Evie didn’t want to question her mother in front of Mr Bailey but she had to say something before it was too late. ‘It was going to be the three of us working together, same as in Shenty Street,’ she reminded her, her voice almost pleading. Where had this new idea come from? It wasn’t part of the plan at all. And what would Grandma Sue have to say?

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