Chapter 4

‘You’ve got a smile on your face this morning. It can’t have been all hard work at Whitelock’s yesterday.’ Toby grinned across the breakfast table as he pulled his jerkin on before eating the porridge that had been placed in front of him. ‘You looked jiggered when you first stepped in last night, but I suppose it is your first real job outside of the home, you’ll get used to it eventually. Taking sewing in I bet seems a doddle compared to serving folk all day.’

‘You can hold your noise when it comes to taking in washing. You’re right, I do have a smile on my face because I know more what I’m doing today and I’ve taken Frank’s advice and I’m wearing my old flat shoes so my legs and feet shouldn’t hurt as much tonight. Now, there’s some cooked meat in the pantry along with some bread and I’ve put a milk pudding in the side oven to slowly cook with the heat from the fire while we’re both out at work. You’ll not starve if you can be bothered to get up from off your backside.’ Mary shook her head as Toby had a coughing fit and she watched as he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and spat into it.

‘This bloody cough – I’m fed up with it,’ he said quietly as he looked at the contents brought up from his lungs and quickly put the handkerchief back into his pocket before Mary saw what was on it. ‘Who’s this Frank that you’ve mentioned? You haven’t gone and got yourself a fella already, have you?’ Toby looked across at his sister while she hurriedly ate her porridge and noticed her cheeks blush.

‘No, I have not! He’s just one of the waiters that I talked to yesterday. There’s Frank and George, the waiters, then there’s Mrs Trotter, the cook, and two or three others help in the kitchen while I help Lizzie Lambert at the bar. She’s ever so bonny, Toby, you want to come and meet her; she turns many a man’s head.’

‘I want nowt with a woman, they only let you down. I’d rather sleep with my horses than a woman,’ Toby said as she took his empty dish to the stone sink to be washed. A first love who had cheated on him in his early twenties had made Toby wary of women and had made him decide not to trust any woman ever again other than Mary and his mother.

‘Talking of sleeping with horses, I think it’s time you had a bath, Toby, you really don’t smell right sweet at the present!’ Mary don’t really like having to tell her brother that he had an odour problem – but he had!

‘Hmm, I’ll strip off and dip myself in the horse trough before I come home tonight. I’ll take this bar of carbolic soap with me. Will that do for you? After all, you can’t have a brother that smells of honest man’s toil now you’re working for the likes of John Whitelock, can you?’ Toby picked up the bar of red soap from next to the sink and put it in his jacket pocket.

‘Don’t be daft, we’ll put the kettle on to boil a time or two this Sunday evening and fill the tin bath that’s hanging up outside in the yard. You’ll be fit to bury, bathing in a horse trough. That cough of yours is bad enough without tempting fate. When I get paid, you can get yourself to the doctor and see what he has to say about it.’ Mary went and put her hand on Toby’s sleeve and looked at him with sympathy.

‘It’s alright, it’s only a cough. It’s the dust off the hay, like I keep telling you,’ Toby said defensively.

‘Well, we’ll see what a doctor has to say about it and never mind the expense.’ Mary was not going to let her concern for her brother’s health rest so easily; she had heard him nearly every night, coughing and spluttering, and his health, she was sure, was worsening.

‘I’m going to work; I’ll see you when you come back home. Don’t be led on by any of them fellas that you work with. Remember, they’re only ten-a-penny waiters – you can do better than that.’ Toby looked at his foster sister whom he loved but only in a brotherly way. They had grown up together and he now felt responsible for her. But for how long he would be able to be there to support her he didn’t know because the consumption that he knew he was suffering from was wreaking havoc with his body and was getting worse. Soon he would have to tell Mary that it was more than the hay dust that was irritating his lungs and that his life on earth was soon going to be shortened.

‘Stop worrying about me, Toby. I’m going to pick myself a millionaire from the ones that come and dine at Whitelock’s. A millionaire who has a stable, so that you can look after his horses!’ Mary shouted as he left the house.

‘Aye, and I’m off to see the man in the moon,’ Toby replied before making his way out of the yard to his work.

Mary smiled at John Whitelock as he wished her good morning; he wasn’t looking at his timepiece this morning, she’d made sure of that.

‘Lizzie tells me you handled your job well yesterday and I’m glad that you did – you fit in well behind my bar. Folk don’t want to see a miserable face when they are out to enjoy themselves.’ He looked at her. ‘Remember to smile, no matter what’s thrown at you. You can rant and carry on behind the customer’s back once they’ve spent their money, because you’ll need to sometimes. There are some right cases come and go through these doors and the more money they have, the worse their manners, I sometimes think.’ John Whitelock was a tough northerner who had made his money through sheer hard work and he despised those born with a silver spoon in their mouth and no manners.

‘I will, Mr Whitelock. My foster mother always said it costs nowt to be pleasant and a smile always makes folk feel better.’ Mary walked into the bar area, she still was in awe of the decoration there and the pristine splendour of the tables that were being laid out again by Nancy, who scuttled about like a busy mouse and hardly spoke.

Mary watched as Mr Whitelock made his way into the kitchen, leaving her standing behind the bar waiting for Lizzie. She made herself busy by polishing some glasses that had been left to dry from the previous evening and then decided to try and hold a conversation with Nancy.

‘So, do you live in Leeds, Nancy?’ Mary asked as she watched the girl polish each piece of silver with a cleaning cloth before laying it, just so, on the table.

‘I do, I live with my family,’ Nancy answered without stopping in her work.

‘I live with my brother; we’ve just set up home together and this is my first job serving behind a bar. I enjoyed it yesterday, but Lord, I was tired when I got home.’ Mary sighed and tried to make eye contact with the busy maid.

‘The devil makes work for idle hands, that’s what I was told. You’d be better finding something to do with your time than gossiping to me. I’ve no time for tittle-tattle,’ Nancy said in a sharp rebuke, leaving Mary feeling awkward. She was relieved to see Frank, already dressed in his waiter’s suit, enter the restaurant and behind him, Lizzie; at least they would talk to her.

‘Decided you’d come back for another dose then, this morning? You looked knackered last night.’ Frank grinned and didn’t even acknowledge Nancy as he swanned in, in front of Lizzie.

‘I was tired, but I’d enjoyed my day, all thanks to Lizzie here – she was a marvellous teacher.’ Mary smiled at them both as Lizzie took off her shawl and gave it to Frank to hang up, then walked through behind the bar and joined her new recruit.

‘You learned quickly – and just as well, because I’ve been talking to my beau and he’s nearly ready for us to move on in our lives. It’ll probably be April when we leave – we were thinking of moving to Carlisle or perhaps York – if the job he has planned pays off. I should think that if Mr Whitelock thinks that you’re good enough for my job he’ll be offering you my position.’ Lizzie grinned and then turned to look at Nancy as she muttered under her breath.

‘You’re leaving?’ Mary gasped. ‘Thank heavens you’re not going until April, that gives me three months to learn everything if I’m to impress.’

‘You’ll be all right, lass – unlike some, you have the gab. That, and the looks, is all that’s needed. It’s no good being able to do your job but not be able to communicate, like some we know …’ Frank whispered the last few words quietly and nodded his head in Nancy’s direction. ‘I’ll go and get my orders and see what Cook is brewing up this morning, I thought she was going to explode by the end of lunchtime serving yesterday. She’s having to get used to the new menu, so everyone is learning something new.’ He winked at Mary and went whistling into the kitchen.

‘I have every faith in you,’ Lizzie said. ‘Mr Whitelock decided to take you on, knowing that you’d fit the part with your looks and attitude towards people.’ Lizzie smiled and began to check that there was enough beer and spirits in the bar for the day.

‘Some of us weren’t good enough for the job, or so we were told,’ Nancy said in a loud voice for both girls to hear.

‘Oh, Nancy, you know you wouldn’t have liked it. You like to keep yourself to yourself and if anybody flirted with you, you’d run a mile,’ Lizzie said with a softness in her voice.

‘It would have been nice to have had the chance, that’s all I’m saying. Now, I’ll never get a look in because she’ll be staying, I know.’ Nancy spat on her cleaning cloth and gave one of the silver spoons an extra violent rub as she made her feelings abundantly clear to Lizzie and Mary.

‘I might not; I might decide that here’s not the place for me. I’m sorry if you think I’ve taken your place, Nancy, but please don’t hold it against me.’ Mary went over to Nancy and looked at her.

‘I’ll see,’ the girl said, stopping for a second to look up at Mary and then carrying on with her job.

‘Mary, let her be, she’ll come around. Won’t you, Nancy? Once she’s got to know you.’ Lizzie sighed and looked towards the doors. ‘Here comes George and it’s a good job as well because the queue’s beginning to form outside already; looks like we’re going to be in for another busy day and that we really are offering the best dining experience in Leeds!’

Mary patted Nancy’s hand; she could understand her disappointment at not getting the job she had set her heart on, but at the same time, it wasn’t her fault that John Whitelock had not seen fit to offer her it. The truth was that Nancy was rather plain in her looks and her attitude towards people was somewhat lacking – but, Mary thought, happen if she had been supported that could have been turned around. Mary decided to go out of her way to befriend Nancy, whether she liked it or not.

‘Bloody hell, Lizzie, have you seen who’s in the queue today?’ George came in through the doors and swept his dark hair back. ‘It’s only Thomas Winfield who owns nearly half of Leeds! Wait until Mr Whitelock sees him, he’ll not believe his eyes. Make sure he gets served first if he comes to the bar. I’ll open the doors now, Mary, so can you tell Frank to get his arse in here right away? Nancy, stop faffing about and go and tell Mr Whitelock that Thomas Winfield is dining with us – he’ll need to greet him.’ George looked flustered as he pulled his jacket down and straightened his bow tie before opening the doors for the public to come in and be seated. Mary dutifully went into the kitchen to get Frank, who was busy chatting up Prudence, who had turned a deep shade of crimson with the suggestions he was whispering in her ear.

‘George says hurry up and come through quickly because there’s somebody called Thomas Winfield waiting to be served and he seems to think he’s to be made a fuss of,’ Mary said and looked around at the amazed faces in astonishment.

‘What’s he doing here? I didn’t think he’d have time for anything. After all, he’s building that bloody big monstrosity at the end of the Headrow,’ Mrs Trotter gasped and then went quiet as Nancy, followed by John Whitelock, rushed out of his office and through the kitchen.

‘Whatever Thomas Winfield wants, you see that he gets it. We need folk like him dining here!’ John shouted. ‘Now, get a move on, all of you.’

Thomas Winfield looked around at the newly opened Whitelock’s; it was certainly causing a stir within the community of Leeds and now he could see why. It was not your ordinary drinking place any more. In fact, he’d even go so far as to say that the interior was definitely decadent in style. Whether it was going to cause him trouble in the shape of being a rival to his plans for the grand hotel that he was building was another matter, he thought, smiling as John Whitelock bustled forward with his head waiter behind him.

‘Ah, John! I thought that I’d come and see for myself this place that I’m hearing so much about. I must say you’ve surprised me – it is beautifully decorated, the tiles and suchlike must have cost you a small fortune.’ Thomas picked up the menu and started to read what was on offer as John stood by the side of the table, looking hot and bothered.

‘They did cost quite a bit, but it’s proved its worth, importing the best from Italy; folk comment on them every time they walk in here. Anyway, it’s good to see that you’re joining us for luncheon today. Frank here will see to your needs so just you take your time looking at the menu and perhaps, in the meantime, a drink would not go amiss?’ John urged Frank to take Thomas’s drink order and was taken aback when all he asked for was a glass of water and asked Frank to wait for his choice of food.

‘How’s the new building coming along? I hear that it’s to be a hotel. Do you think that’s wise? There are plenty of hostelries and hotels in Leeds as it is, do you not think?’ John said and waited for a reaction from Thomas.

‘Aye, there are plenty of hotels, but not like the one that I’m planning. You’ve got to move with the times, much like you are doing, John. Our good Queen is getting old; she’ll not be on the throne for much longer and there’s a new mood about. Folk are no longer happy just sitting and drinking, as you well know, and Leeds needs a new look for the breath of new life that will be blown through it. You’ve spent some brass on this old place to give folk some decadence in their lives. Well, I aim to do just the same, but on a grander scale.’ Thomas looked up at John, whose face told him exactly what he was thinking. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll not tread on your toes; my place will be different from this. Although I must admit I admire your new bar girl. She’s a bonny bit of work and I’ll be needing quite a few girls like her.’

‘Aye, well, you can take your eyes off her. She’ll be staying just where she is. You must find your own lasses like we all have to,’ John grunted. ‘Can Frank here get you anything as well as the water, or have you just come to get ideas?’ John’s manner had changed; if Thomas Winfield wasn’t going to spend any money with him, he could at least free up the table.

‘Stop worrying, you old fool, and yes, your lad can get me some lunch. I’ll have the turbot in Dutch sauce followed by the fillet of beef with fried potatoes and peas – but send your new lass over to me with my glass of water and let’s see as if she speaks as elegant as she looks.’

Frank wrote the luncheon order down quickly and waited for John to tell him to send Mary with the drink. Instead, John just nodded in her direction and couldn’t be bothered to speak as he left Winfield smiling at the worry that he had given him.

‘Here, Mary, Thomas Winfield wants you to serve him with a glass of water. You’ve taken his fancy and Mr Whitelock isn’t happy with him, but he’ll not dare say anything to him, so you keep Winfield as a friend, not an enemy, in our work,’ Frank whispered over the bar to Mary and glanced back at the man who could request almost anything anywhere he visited in Leeds.

‘What does he want with me serving him? Doesn’t he know that I’m new in my job?’ Mary took one of the better cut-crystal glasses from beneath the bar and filled a matching water jug with water before putting it on a serving tray to take to the honoured guest.

‘It seems he’s taken a fancy to you.’ Frank shrugged his shoulders. ‘Anyway, he’s given the old man a good order – he’s ordered the dearest things on the menu to eat. I hope he doesn’t think he’s getting them for nowt, though, else Mr Whitelock will not be suited.’ He gave Winfield a backward glance and winked at Mary as he hurriedly took the request through to the kitchen.

‘Your water, sir.’ Mary curtsied and placed the jug and glass in front of Thomas Winfield as he sat back in his chair and looked at her. ‘Will that be all, sir?’ She felt uneasy as his eyes looked her up and down and a smile came to his lips.

‘It is for now, my dear. Tell me, what’s your name? Have you been working long for John Whitelock?’ Thomas poured himself a drink and looked intently at Mary as she replied.

‘I’m Mary Reynolds, sir, and this is my second day working for Mr Whitelock,’ she answered politely, only just daring to look at the handsome bearded and moustached man who she knew to be one of the wealthiest men in Leeds.

‘Well, Mary, I thank you for the water and I hope that you enjoy working for Mr Whitelock. I’m sure that with your looks and manners you will be valued by him.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Mary smiled and curtsied once again before turning her back on him and going back to the bar and Lizzie, who was being rushed off her feet with orders from drinkers as well as from Frank and George.

‘What did he want with you, then?’ Lizzie whispered.

‘I don’t know. He didn’t say much, just looked at me.’ Mary looked across at the handsome man everyone was in awe of and, realising he’d been watching her, blushed as she served her next customer and tried not to keep looking at him as she replied to Lizzie.

‘Well, he’s never looked at me like that in the past. He’s obviously taken a fancy to you, as Frank says.’ Lizzie grinned. ‘It’ll keep John Whitelock on his toes when it comes to you if he thinks Thomas Winfield wants you; they’re big rivals, you know.’

‘Well, he’s got nothing to be worried about – I’m happy working here and I aim to stay,’ Mary whispered while passing a pint of Tetley’s finest over to a man at the bar.

‘For the time being, I think,’ Lizzie said. ‘I have a fancy that Thomas Winfield is not the only one who thinks he’s in with a chance when it comes to you. Frank was asking about you as well this morning. Only two days with us and you’ve men wanting you already!’ Lizzie winked. ‘Make sure you get one with brass, lass. Brass and a good heart – and I’ll tell you now those are hard to come by because I’ve never found one. My Harry has a good heart and not a penny to his name – but I’ll make him do because I love him.’ Lizzie smiled and then watched as Mary slipped another glance at Thomas Winfield and noted the smile on both their faces as she served her next customer.

‘What are you doing on Friday night, Mary? I just wondered if you’d like to join me in the cheap seats at the music hall?’ Frank grinned as he lit a cigarette before heading off into the darkness and his home.

‘I hardly know you! Don’t you think that I’d be a bit forward if I said yes?’ Mary pulled her hat on her head as she answered him, surprised. ‘Besides, you were flirting with Prudence in the kitchen moments ago. Am I second best after being turned down by her?’ Mary kept her face straight and thought she’d let Frank, the flirt, know that she’d got his length and would be no pushover.

‘No, I only tease Prudence. I’ve no interest in her really – but you, you’re a different matter. Besides, if you’ve caught Thomas Winfield’s eye, you must be classy.’ Frank drew on his cigarette and waited for an answer.

‘I’m not sure; I hardly know you. Besides, I’ve no money until I get paid and I’ve Toby at home; I’ve hardly seen him since I started working here.’ Mary hesitated; she would have really liked to go and see the inside of the music hall where her mother had once sung, but she’d never had a chance in the past.

‘Toby? Who the bloody hell is Toby? Have you been leading me on? Have you already got a fella?’ Frank sounded disgruntled.

‘No, he’s my brother, but he’s not that well and I feel I’m neglecting him since I started working here. Besides, not once have I led you on, Frank Gibson.’ Mary sighed; she was really worried about Toby and the cough that seemed to be getting worse. Perhaps she shouldn’t have let him leave home for the smoke and damp of Riley’s Court – he might have been better staying at home with his father.

‘He’ll be right, it’s only one evening and I’ll pay for you in any case. I can only afford the cheap seats but you can see the stage fine enough. Go on, we can get to know one another better; you don’t get a chance when you just work with folk. Old Whitelock doesn’t give you time to breathe, let alone make friends.’ Frank stood firmly and waited for his answer; he wasn’t going to be dissuaded, because from the first time he’d laid eyes on Mary he knew she was a good-looker and he was determined that she would walk out with him.

‘I don’t know … I hardly know you.’ Mary felt awkward, she did hardly know him. For all she knew he could be another Jack the Ripper who, just a few years ago, had been stalking the streets of London.

‘I’ll behave myself, if that’s what you’re worrying about. It’s only an offer to join me to go to the music hall, nothing else. You can trust me – I’ll keep my hands to myself,’ Frank said cheekily.

‘All right, but just the music hall and then I’ll return straight home to Toby and I’ll pay you back when I get paid,’ Mary insisted.

‘Nay, I’ve got my pride – you don’t pay me back. If you’re on my arm for the night, then I pay your way. You can pay the next time if you want and if we find that you can bear to be seen with me again.’ Frank laughed. ‘One night with me might be enough – that’s what usually happens with me and women. I can attract them, but I can’t keep them.’

‘All right, then, I’ll look forward to it. Now, I’ll have to get home. I’m tired but I’ll still have to see to the house and meals for tomorrow. And let’s not say anything to anybody we work with, I’d rather keep it to ourselves,’ Mary said as she turned to walk home.

‘All right, if that’s what you want. See you in the morning, Mary. Sleep tight and mind the bugs don’t bite!’ Frank yelled down the cobbled street at her, then put his hands in his pockets and whistled happily on his way home.

Mary lay in bed and thought about her day. Her feet ached and she’d never worked as hard in her life but she was enjoying every moment. She listened to Toby coughing in the bedroom next to her; he really was much sicker than he was letting on and Mary knew it. Never mind spending any spare money on the frivolities of the music hall, she’d make Toby go to a doctor and get something for the cough. She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes as the coughing eased and Toby obviously dosed off to sleep. She, however, found her mind racing with thoughts of the dark, good-looking Thomas Winfield, who had tipped his hat at her and smiled as he had left the restaurant and the cheek of Frank Gibson and the upcoming visit to the music hall. She knew it would not be the first time that she had spent time in the now-famous hall – Nell had told her that she used to be taken to it when her mother was a singer there – but she had lost all memories of that part of her early life; would they all come flooding back when she sat looking at the stage that her mother, the Yorkshire Linnet, once stood on with such pride?