Doors open; doors close
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October 1899
One of the bright spots lightening Gwenna’s darker days was Charlie – he had survived the winter. Despite a serious bout of bronchitis, he was well again now, and colour crept back into his cheeks as spring arrived.
Another bright spot was Johnno. His endless good humour and persistent wooing gladdened her heart and put a different sort of spring in her step. A secret smile tweaked Gwenna’s lips at the memory of their frequent trysts over the winter months. Johnno had turned up at the oddest of times, with a message to meet him when Elias wouldn’t notice her absence. He took her to the theatre where they sat in the cheapest seats at the back; they went dancing, and kissed in the darkest shadows; they made love and promised the impossible.
But what occupied Gwenna’s mind the most as she packed a basket with soup, pies and cakes, were thoughts of the day several months earlier when Elias and Hugh were away and all the girls had got together.
Bethan had been cheered – happy even – having her daughters and grandchildren around her. She rarely saw them, despite living within walking distance. That day, though, small niggles and past resentments were put aside, and the women enjoyed each other’s company, chatting about what was going on in their lives. Except it hadn’t gone quite as Gwenna had wished.
“Do any of you know where my Samuel is these days?” Bethan asked. She always asked. She missed her middle son and always believed he’d return one day. The sisters glanced at one another, each waiting for someone else to speak.
“Last I heard, he was in Christchurch,” Louisa shrugged. “Not that I care much. I’ve got far too many things to do than worry about him. What with my two, and all the social and charitable commitments I have, it’s more than a body can cope with.” Louisa took a bite of Tillie’s fudge, peered at it sideways and put it down again.
Ungrateful cow, thought Gwenna.
“Didn’t I hear you say something about wanting a larger house of your own?” Tillie asked, hoping the answer would help Bethan.
“Oh, you know how it is. Time will tell. We are rather overcrowded, but Albert’s father has just taken on a new apprentice, so at the moment Bertie is far too busy in the butchery to consider it. I even have to help with the chores, of all things. Just look at my hands! Maybe we’ll think about it in the New Year. Father-in-law has said Bertie is due for a promotion.”
Gwenna thought she sounded far too smug, but any thoughts that Louisa might help Bethan had been thwarted.
Janetta wasn’t much better. Not wanting to be outdone by her older sister, she retaliated. “Percy is expecting a promotion, and an increase in salary in the New Year.” The sisters shot a snippy glance at each other, but Janie had always been the more good-natured of the two. “It’s nice, getting together like this, isn’t it? But it’ll be my last outing for a while. Percy says I’m getting so big with this child, it wouldn’t be decent to be seen in public. I wish we had a place of our own, or at least a little outdoor space. A toddler in the house is so demanding.” Her voice faded away with a sigh.
“Poor, hard-done-by Janie,” muttered Gwenna under her breath, getting more cross with her stepsisters as time passed. “You don’t come around that often,” she said out loud.
“Well, no. I suppose not. It’s Elias’s fault. He is so rude, I simply can’t be bothered.”
Gwenna saw the way Bethan’s face fell at Janetta’s words, and when Louisa said something similar, her shoulders collapsed and she dropped her head.
The four sisters parted company, agreeing they’d had a lot of fun, and yes, they should do it again. Some day. Soon. Gwenna didn’t have any expectations it would be soon enough. Sometimes she despaired of ever being allowed to live her own life. More and more, Bethan’s daughters left it to her to enrich Bethan’s life with news and companionship ...
“Righto, Mam,” said Gwenna when she’d finished packing the basket. “I’m away round to Tillie’s. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
Elias’s behaviour had worsened since his trip away. He’d always liked a drink at the local after work, and more so at the weekends, but of late his drinking had increased to the point where he came home drunk most nights. Gwenna worked harder than ever to appease his demands, but nothing she did was good enough, and she and Bethan had taken to shutting themselves in their rooms at night to avoid him.
“Yes, yes, girl. I’m fine. I’ll put Charlie to bed soon and then get away meself. Elias doesn’t come looking for me. It’s only if I’m in his way does he remember he’s angry about something.”
Gwenna was tired of being the brunt of her stepbrother’s temper, and Hugh being away more often than not, trying to salvage the declining sales, was not helping matters. When questioned by Gwenna, Hugh reluctantly admitted the trip with Elias earlier in the year had been a disaster. While Hugh had not dared to say what had happened or what he thought, Gwenna pieced together enough to confirm her opinion that Elias was destroying the business.
Not that it made any difference. She liked Hugh. A lot. He was sturdy and reliable, but he was no talker – and no salesman either. Elias needed someone like Tom Griffiths to be the frontman.
As soon as the thought popped into her head, she dismissed it. Right now, Tillie needed Tom in a steady, well-paid job. She was expecting, which – after the best part of two years’ trying – was a joy, but she was so ill every morning, she could do little else for the rest of the day. Cooking meals turned her stomach and she no longer made her fudge. To help out, Bethan baked an extra pie or made broth, and Gwenna took it around to them when Elias was out. Tonight was no exception.
With a shawl around her shoulders, Gwenna picked up her basket. “Take care then. He might be different tonight. He’s been like a bear with a sore ’ead all day. He can’t abide the thought that the new government might pass the forty-hour week into law.” She stooped to kiss her stepmam on the forehead. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
The heels of Gwenna’s boots echoed between the buildings as she hurried along the street and turned the corner. Loads of people were still out and about celebrating ‘Labour Day’. Not that everyone had heard of Samuel Parnell, the man who, in 1840, had successfully petitioned the government for an eight-hour working day, nor that it had taken fifty years – until 1890 – to commemorate his achievement. Thousands had taken to the streets that day to watch the parade. Government workers had been given the day off, and many businesses had closed for the first time. While the celebrations were now an annual affair, Labour Day would not be an official public holiday until next year.
Even so, the laws still allowed employers to make women and young people work up to nine and a half hours a day, as well as several late nights. Gwenna had read in the newspapers how many hoped the upcoming election on the sixth of December would change the situation. New laws would be passed so nobody worked more than forty hours, and shop closing hours would be regulated. She, too, hoped it was true.
She zigzagged her way between the people, laughing and saying hello to those she knew. She loved the bustle of Karangahape Road, harness jangling as the horse tram clattered past, cyclists ringing their bells to let people know they were coming, market sellers calling out their wares and the windmill looming above. They were all part of the fabric of life.
As she headed down the street towards Tillie’s, she heard Johnno’s voice.
“Wait up, Gwenna. Where ya going in such a hurry?”
She stopped to wait for him, smiling. “To Tillie’s. She’s not well, so I’m taking them supper, but I have to get back home before Elias.”
Johnno took the basket from her and reached for her hand as they walked on. “Well, don’t fret there. I’ve just seen him in the King’s Arms along in France Street. He’s already three sheets to the wind and has plans to be totally legless, by the sound of things. He’ll not bother you tonight. Let’s talk awhile.”
Gwenna wasn’t sure whether to be cheered by this news or more nervous. Sooner or later Elias would find his way home, and what happened then would depend on how bad he felt.
“That’s a relief, but I still can’t stay. He’ll have a right sore ’ead tomorrow, and I don’t want to give him any reason to be mad at me.”
“I can make sure he don’t make it home tonight, if’n you like.”
Gwenna stopped in her tracks, letting go his hand. “What are you suggesting?”
Johnno tapped a finger to his cap. “Just that I know people who could take care of ’im.”
“No,” said Gwenna, shocked at the thought. “You can’t. Elias has enough enemies of his own. I don’t want to see him hurt.”
“Gwenna Price, you’re too soft-’earted. He won’t hesitate to hurt you when it suits him. And he needs a taste of his own medicine.”
Shaking her head, she tried to take the basket off him. “Leave it, Johnno. I’ll just drop this off and head straight back.”
But Johnno wouldn’t let go. “I’ll come with you then. And walk you home.” The twinkle in his eye gave her some idea of how long the walk home might take, and what they might do on the way. She quivered at the thought.
While Johnno hovered in the shadows out of sight, she knocked on the door.
“Hello, love,” said Tom, the lamp in the hall casting light on Gwenna as he held the door open. “Tillie’s asleep. She’s had a bad day. Do you want to come in for a few moments?”
“Thanks, Tom, but no. I won’t tonight. Here’s your supper.”
“You’re too kind, Gwenna. Tillie and I are so grateful to you and Bethan, but there’s too much for one person. I still have some left over from last time.”
“Isn’t Tillie eating anything?”
“A little soup sometimes. I hope this passes soon, poor girl. She worries me.”
“Don’t worry too much. Mam says it’s normal for women to get this sickness. It’ll pass in a few weeks.”
Tom disappeared for a few moments to unload the basket while Gwenna waited. Across the street, staring at her silhouette, stood Hugh.
A few minutes later Gwenna had linked arms with Johnno. They walked to the bottom of Beresford Street and turned towards Western Park.
Johnno peered over his shoulder. “You know the fella who works for you watches you, don’t you? Unless you’re with me.”
“Hugh? Never,” said Gwenna in disbelief, glancing over her shoulder. “Why would he?”
“Dunno. Making sure you’re safe, maybe. He’s gone now.” Johnno shrugged.
Any thoughts of Hugh disappeared from her mind as she and Johnno wandered into the shadows, heads together, whispering, giggling and stealing quick kisses.
Finding a cosy spot between the buttress roots of a large tree, Johnno spread his coat out for them to lie on. Wrapped in his arms, Gwenna believed her dreams of another life could come true after all.