Meg sat at the kitchen table and looked at the letter that had been waiting for her when she had returned home from the bakery. It had an Irish stamp on it and Meg knew straight away that it was a letter from Ted Lund.
‘Go on then, get it opened,’ her mother said. ‘You’ll not know what’s in it if you don’t open it.’ She could see the worried look on her daughter’s face. ‘Anyway, whatever he says, you have nothing to worry about. He’s had more customers and made more money than he’s ever done in these last few years. He should sing your praises and hopefully pay you better for all the work that you’ve put into that place.’
Meg felt her stomach churn as she opened the letter and read the scrawling handwriting, her face brightening with every word that she read.
‘He’s not coming back for another month. He says he’s enjoying being with his sister-in-law and hopes that I am managing the shop on my own.’ Meg read further. ‘I’ve to pay the monthly bills, especially the one at Dinsdale’s, and to make sure that the coal and woodman are not diddling me while he’s away. He was good enough to let me see what they usually charge him, thank heavens. Other than that he’s not said anything else.’
Meg folded the letter, relieved that she had not got to explain herself for at least another month until his return.
‘You know, I can tell by the look on your face that you were worried about what he was going to say on his return,’ Agnes chided. ‘Do you not think you should happen to calm the amount of baking you are doing for the shop? After all, he’s just been selling his uneatable bread for years. He will have a fit when he sees what you have been up to and the bills that you have run up, even if you will have paid them before his return.’
‘You don’t know how much money is in his safe awaiting his return,’ Meg retorted. ‘He’ll not complain, I hope, when he sees just how much money I’ve made him, or he shouldn’t. I am worrying that I didn’t ask his permission to take it so far, but every day I think of a new cake or scone or something that I know the folk of Leeds will enjoy. It is so good to see the enjoyment on their faces and hear their comments after they have loved eating it. I also don’t charge ridiculous prices. As long as the costs are covered and Ted has made a bit, that’s enough for me because I know it gets folk into the bakery, and the more folk in the shop the better.’
She fell silent but Agnes could see there was more. At the quizzical look on her mother’s face, Meg continued, ‘I just worry that he won’t keep me on after his return.’
‘He’ll keep you on if he’s any sense, but Ted Lund is a funny old stick. It doesn’t take much to upset him,’ Agnes said as she eased herself out of the chair. ‘I know one thing: we have all benefitted from you working for him and him being in Ireland. The odd piece of baking that you have brought back with you has kept us well fed but he’ll not appreciate finding that out. I hope for your sake he doesn’t ever find out where the last scone or sponge cake goes to at the end of the day, else he will be taking it out of your pay on his first week back. Ted Lund is as tight as a duck’s arse, always has been. He might have made a hundred pounds but if he’s lost sixpence, it will be that sixpence he frets about. So just you be careful, Meg.’
Agnes made her way to bed, leaving Meg to worry about the position that she had put herself in.
Meg sat in her chair and looked into the dwindling fire. She couldn’t help but feel her stomach churning with anguish. Had she done right? She’d built the bakery up in Ted’s absence but she had also made sure that her family had benefitted from her work.
Her mother was right: Ted was an awkward old stick; he could cut up funny about the things that she had been up to. She breathed in and calmed herself. It would be all right, she said to herself, he had made good money in his absence and all was accounted for. He couldn’t say anything about the bit of food she’d been bringing home because he’d never know, and besides, she deserved it after all the time and hours she had put into his bakery. She had, after all, just taken her agreed-to wage out of the takings and he could see she had on the accounts that she had been making in her own notebook. Tomorrow she would go and settle the monthly account at Dinsdale’s and then whatever money was left in the safe was Ted’s.
He should be impressed, she thought, and just hoped that she would be right.
‘I know that I’m perhaps a day or two early in requesting the bill for Ted Lund’s bakery, but I’d like to know how much I owe for the month and settle the bill tomorrow after I close for the day,’ Meg said and saw a look of relief upon Joe Dinsdale’s face at the thought of her settling the account that he had been worrying about.
‘It’s a tidy amount, I’ve never known Ted owe me as much – that is; not since his wife died. Do you want those currants and sugar adding to it for the month?’ Joe looked at the goods she had already been served with and then reached for his accounts book from under the counter.
‘Yes, please. Don’t worry, the account will be paid tomorrow. I’ve been busy at the bakery, plenty of customers have been through the doors.’ Meg stood and felt her stomach churning as Joe Dinsdale totted up the account and she waited for the exact amount. However much it was, she knew that she had never owed that much in her life and she felt sick as Joe pulled the top sheet of the invoice out of the book and passed her it.
‘I’ve kept hearing that the bakery was busy, but this will make a good dent in your profits. Not that I’m complaining as long as you pay me. You are more than welcome back in this shop if you are to spend that much with me every month.’ Joe watched her face as Meg assessed what she had spent and checked for any discrepancies that were obvious to her.
‘Thank you, I will be back in tomorrow to settle it as I say.’
Meg tried not to show her true feelings as she placed the currants and sugar on top of the invoice in the safety of her basket and walked out with her head held high, even though she was secretly feeling weak at the knees. Two pounds two shillings and sixpence was a lot of money. No wonder Joe Dinsdale had looked relieved when she said she was about to pay it. Thank the Lord she knew she had enough in the safe to pay it. After the day’s takings, she had counted the money in there and she had near enough five pounds of clear profit, even after paying the grocery bill. Ted Lund should not complain about that, she thought, as she walked home and calmed herself down.
The following day the bakery was just as busy, the currants had been made into a sly cake which seemed to be going down really well along with some courting cake, or kiss-me-cake as Sarah called it: a shortbread mixture with raspberry jam sandwiching it together. It was the normal everyday recipes that Meg baked that were making her popular. She only wished that she could make some pastry products, pies and pasties, but pastry took time and on her own she hadn’t the time to faff about with it. She also hadn’t been blessed with cool hands, which always came as a blessing when handling pastry.
Her mother was also right. Perhaps she should keep her feet on the ground and stop her obsession with baking and making people feel fulfilled with a bit of goodness in their bellies. After all, Ted Lund would complain and she knew it. She was only trying to kid herself into thinking he wouldn’t say anything. He would have to, to show his authority; at the end of the day, it was his bakery and his money.
When the last customer had left, she pulled the window blind down then tidied the counter, swept the floor and went to make sure all was tidy in the bakery and that the fires had gone out. She sat down at the large wooden table where she kneaded the bread and did all the baking every day. She was tired. She’d been a fool to do so much baking and now there was no getting out of doing it without losing face; she’d have to continue. Once Ted returned, if he ever returned, he would either see that the place was profitable while making what she had been doing or he’d put his foot down and stop her from doing so much baking.
Meg took her notebook out of her pocket and counted the day’s takings and wrote it down into the Money In a column and then looked at the invoice from Dinsdale’s and wrote the two pounds two shillings and sixpence in the Money Out column before counting the money out for payment from the day’s money and the money within the safe. She looked at the healthy balance that was left written down in her notebook and wished it was hers. She wouldn’t then have minded the long days and how tired she felt if the shop was hers; in fact, she would look at baking more. Sarah could join her and serve on in the shop, she thought. Another few months and she would be old enough to leave school and do just that, if only she owned the bakery. That was just pie in the sky, she thought, as she sighed and placed the money and invoice for Joe Dinsdale in her basket ready for payment as she made her way back home.
Dinsdale’s shop was busy when she arrived there. There was a queue in the shop and Meg waited in turn. Ben, the young lad, was run off his feet as he climbed up ladders for goods and wrapped cheeses and butter and smiled at each customer. She smiled back at him as she got nearer the counter and she noticed him blush as he knew she had caught him looking at her.
‘Miss Fairfax, what can I do for you today? Have you come to settle the bakery’s bill?’ Joe Dinsdale said with a look of apprehension on his face.
‘I have indeed, Mr Dinsdale. I said I would and I never go back on my word.’ Meg looked up at the ruddy-faced grocer with his handlebar moustache waxed and groomed with care.
‘I’m glad to hear it, Miss Fairfax. I must admit, the bill was worrying me slightly. As I’ve said, Ted Lund never spends that much with us. I thought that you might be unable to pay for it. I should have known different, from what I’ve overheard from our customers saying. It sounds as if you are good at your craft; Ted should think himself lucky.’ Joe Dinsdale took the envelope out of Meg’s hand, counted the money and signed her receipt, then marked it down as paid in his invoice book before putting the money in the till.
Meg watched him and smiled. ‘I enjoy baking – I always have.’
He handed her the receipt of payment back to her and thanked her.
‘If it wouldn’t hit your own trade, I’d say I would sell some of your baking here, but your bakery is too near. By the time we had negotiated a price that I’d be willing to buy it from you, I’d probably have you out of pocket. I’ve got to make a living too.’ Joe looked at Meg and watched her wondering if it would be worth her while to supply Dinsdale’s with some of her baking.
‘It’s a kind offer, Mr Dinsdale, but as you say, I don’t think it would be worth my while. Seeing that you don’t sell bread and baking, let us keep it at that. Each man to his own.’
Meg put the receipt safely away in her basket, to add to her notebook and other receipts that she had kept as a record of her dealings. ‘Thank you. I’ll be back with my needs for the bakery so we are both benefitting from that. Perhaps you could give me some discount… after all, I am buying quite a bit from you?’ she asked with a smile on her face.
‘Now, don’t be too hasty, Miss Fairfax. Perhaps I’ll discuss it with Ted on his return. After all, it his is business.’ Joe Dinsdale looked at the young woman. She might be dressed poorly but she had brains.
‘Ted is to return at the end of the coming month; perhaps you could talk to him then. Good day, Mr Dinsdale.’
Joe Dinsdale watched as Meg left his store. She obviously was a worker. Ted would be a fool if he did not keep her on at the bakery upon his return, no matter how much she had spent in his store.