Chapter 7

Mary stood on the doorstep of the house that she had grown up in, lived in most of her life. She looked down at the step that she and Nell had scrubbed until it was white as a bone and noticed the neglect. She pulled once again on the brass ring pull and waited, stomach-churning, for Robert Jones to answer the door so that she could explain that his son was dead and that he had been buried. She was dressed in a plain chambray dress with a black shawl around her shoulders and a plain black hat to hide her dark hair. She’d not had the money to buy a mourning dress, but had done her best to show her respect for the lad she’d loved as a brother. After she had visited Robert with her news she was going to attend church as it was the custom to do the Sunday after a person’s burial and pray that Toby’s soul had reached heaven and for any of his sins to have been forgiven.

Her heart fluttered as she heard footsteps coming towards the door. She’d regretted, since the funeral, that she had not informed Robert of his son’s death, but she had given her word on Toby’s deathbed not to do so and so she had kept her promise. She looked up as the door opened and the man who had brought her up stood in front of her in his vest, his braces hanging around his waist; he looked as if he’d just got out of bed and hurriedly put his trousers on to answer the door.

‘What do you want? If you’ve come for some money now my lad’s dead, you are out of luck,’ Robert growled.

‘I’ve not come begging. I came to tell you that he had died and was buried yesterday. However, you seemingly know.’ Mary was taken aback.

‘Of course, I know – in my position I get to know everything. Did you think I’d be showing my face at his graveside when he’d gone against me all his life and then run away with you, taking half my house contents? The devil may take him and you and all!’ He turned to close the door on Mary.

‘He did love you, you know – it’s just you never showed him love in return,’ Mary said quietly.

‘Hmm … If he had loved me, he’d have not run off with you to some shithole of a yard and he’d have tried to work at being the son he should have been. It was Nell and you that made him soft – he could have been something if he’d have listened to me. Now bugger off!’ He glared at Mary and then slammed the door in her face.

So, that was how it was; Robert Jones had not even been bothered to show his respects to his only son. Well, she’d no longer have anything more to do with him – that part of her life was now at an end. She would stand on her own two feet and, once more, put the past behind her. Mary walked off up to Saint Mary’s in silence; it would not only be a prayer for Toby that she said that morning, there would also be a silent one for herself, for with Toby cold in the ground she no longer had his income to help her and she was going to find it hard in the coming weeks to keep her independence. Perhaps she would have to be like her neighbour, Tess, and hide when George Summerfield came knocking for his rent. But then she would only find herself homeless and on the streets if she didn’t pay him. She entered the church with a heavy heart and sat in the back pews as she thought about her life and the life that her mother must have lived without any support other than that of Nell. She would have to be strong and hold her head up high.

Once back home, Mary sat at the kitchen table looking at what money there was left. If she was careful she could, along with her wage, make it spin out another month; after that she would just have to see if she could find extra work to make ends meet. Her one hope was that John Whitelock would think her good enough to step into Lizzie’s shoes when she left to go with her beau. However, she had not been there long enough to really believe that he would consider her, despite Lizzie’s belief that he would. With Lizzie expecting and about to leave earlier than planned, she knew she had not yet gained all the knowledge she needed to run the bar.

She put her head in her hands and looked around her; the small cottage that had looked so unloved when she and Toby had first moved in now had curtains up at the windows and a rug on the floor. If she had known Toby was so ill she would not have spent any spare money on making the cottage homely, would even have stayed with Robert Jones. However, that was easy to say with hindsight. She’d have to pay her way somehow, because she had nowhere else to go and she valued her independence. ‘Please Lord, let me be all right,’ she whispered to herself as she looked into the dying embers of the fire, hoping things would take a turn for the better and she could put her days of heartbreak behind her.

Mary walked into Whitelock’s restaurant and knew instantly that something was wrong. She’d not been at work for two days because of Toby’s funeral and the need to put her own house in order and the atmosphere could be cut through with a knife when she put her head around the kitchen doorway to say that she was back at her post. Frank’s gossip about her had been long forgotten and now there was obviously a new topic of gossip. Nancy came up to her and grinned, a look of ‘I know something you don’t’ on her face.

‘I’m sorry, Mary, you must be feeling low after Toby’s funeral but it’s a good job you’re back! John Whitelock is wanting to see you and he’s in a right mood,’ Nancy whispered.

Mary felt her stomach churn. Was it her that was in bother? What had she done to upset her boss? She’d told him why she had to have the two days off from work and he’d been more than understanding when she’d told him about Toby’s death, just as all the staff had been.

‘Mary! Get your arse in my office – I need to speak to you.’ John Whitelock charged in, scowling, and stomped through the silent kitchen, nobody daring to say a word as they prepared food for the service at lunchtime. Mary didn’t look at anyone as she quickly followed him into his office. ‘Sit down.’

Mary felt her stomach churn as he sat back in his chair and stared at her.

‘We are in a sorry state this morning and I’m cursing that Lizzie and George. You’ll not have heard, as yet, but they’ve run away together. There was all of us thinking that she was to leave with her unknown beau when it was really George the waiter she was carrying on with. To make matters worse, they’ve taken three bottles of my best brandy, a canteen of my best silver and left me high and dry without two of my main staff. By God, I’d tan their hides if I could get hold of them!’ His cheeks were bright red and purple with the anger that he was feeling.

Shocked, Mary stared at him. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mr Whitelock. I always believed Lizzie was going to leave with her Harry, I’d no idea that she and George were courting. So it must be George’s baby that she is carrying as well,’ she said without thought. ‘I enjoyed working with her and would hate to think badly of her.’ Inside her head, she was questioning where this latest news left her. Would she still be wanted or did this mean that John no longer trusted her, that he thought she must have noticed the love affair that had obviously been blossoming under everyone’s noses?

‘So, she was with child too? Aye, well, that George was always a bit quiet and shifty, but I thought better of Lizzie. She leaves me in a bad position – and that’s where you come into it. The customers have taken a shine to you and you seem good at your job. I know you’ve only been with us a short time, but could you step into Lizzie’s shoes as chief barmaid if I find you a replacement for your own job? I’m asking you because I’m desperate; none of the stock’s been checked behind the bar and I’ve seen to changing the barrels this morning, but all else is as Lizzie left it on Friday night. I knew she was to leave us shortly but not like this,’ John groaned and looked at Mary.

‘As you say, I’ve been only here a short time, but I’ve watched what Lizzie does and I do think I could run the bar. A lot of it is making sure the customers are happy and that the drinks are served quickly and I’ve got a good memory for who drinks what and I’ve noted what Lizzie does when she’s accounting for what she’s taken over the bar of an evening. Yes,’ she said firmly, ‘I’m sure I could handle it.’ Mary looked at him and couldn’t believe that her prayers had been answered so quickly, which made her all the more determined to prove her worth and run the bar like a well-oiled machine.

‘Aye, well, I’m willing to give you a go. How about we say a trial of a fortnight and I’ll put an advertisement out for a barmaid to help you? That and a waiter, the thieving bas-tards!’ John breathed in deeply and shook his head.

‘Thank you, sir, I’ll not let you down. I’ll do my best.’ Mary pushed her chair back in readiness to tackle the jobs that she knew would be waiting for her behind the busy bar, but before she went, she hesitated and then said, ‘Sir, may I make a suggestion?’ Mary felt her legs turn to jelly; it was not for her to say how John Whitelock ran his business but she felt compelled to share her thoughts.

‘Well, what is it? I can but listen.’ John sat back and looked at the young lass that his customers had taken a shine to and who had been a boon since the day that she had started to work for him. Many of the drinkers had been overheard commenting on the dark-haired lass who always had a smile on her face and could pull a good jar.

‘Could I ask that Nancy join me behind the bar? I understand that she wanted my position before but wasn’t allowed it.’ Mary had felt sorry for Nancy from the first day that she had met her and knew that underneath her dull exterior there was a happier Nancy wanting to break out if given the chance.

‘Nancy? Why Nancy? She’s got a sharp tongue on her and she comes from the worst part of Leeds that you could think of. She wouldn’t be right behind the bar – men want something pretty to look at and that’s why I didn’t entertain her request last time.’

‘Yes, but she’s loyal to you and underneath those drab clothes she’s quite a bonny lass. Please, let me take her under my wing and I promise that you will have one of the best barmaids in Leeds by the time she’s worked with me a week or two. She knows more than me, the truth be told, and she needs a break.’ Mary looked pleadingly at him and hoped that he would give the downtrodden Nancy a chance.

‘Mmm, I suppose my view of her is coloured because I know her background a little too well. Her father is constantly in and out of Armley Gaol after drinking and brawling when he’s had a gill too many. I won’t serve him in here and he knows it, so it will be ironic if his daughter is our new barmaid …’

‘She’ll be fine. I’ll look after her – and if she doesn’t work out, you’ll be the first to know,’ Mary said, quietly hoping that she hadn’t overstepped the mark.

‘Very well, send her in when you go back to the bar – I can get a kitchen maid a lot faster than a bonny face to serve behind my bar. But it’s on your head, Mary, both your job and that of Nancy’s, so don’t let me down. If you prove suitable, it’ll mean a rise in your wages, but I’ll expect my money’s worth from both of you.’ John drew a deep breath and calmed himself, knowing that Mary had been heartbroken by the death of her brother. ‘And Mary … I hope the funeral went all right, I know it must have been hard for you.’

She nodded her thanks, then turned away to go out and, as she closed the office door behind her, she could not stop the smile that spread all over her face. She’d prove her worth if it was the last thing that she did, she thought, as she caught Nancy by the arm and told her that Mr Whitelock wanted to see her next.

‘What’s he want to see me for? I know nothing and I’ve done nothing. Just because there are bottles of brandy and silver missing doesn’t mean to say I knew anything about it. Folk always want to blame me, just because my father’s a jailbird.’ Nancy looked worried.

‘It’s nothing to do with that, Nancy, he knows that Lizzie and George took it. It’s good news for you, I promise.’ Mary smiled and looked around at Mrs Trotter, who stood with her hands on her hips, listening in. She watched as Nancy knocked on the office door and walked in.

‘Lord help us, what a bunch I work with.’ Mrs Trotter shook her head and got back to her cooking.

‘There’s only me that’s squeaky clean,’ Frank said and grinned, winking at Mary.

‘Well, you can shut your mouth, Frank Gibson. Everybody knows you like looking through bedroom windows before folk pull their bedroom curtains and you’ve been caught snaffling the odd thing or two from the market. A bloody dirty peeping Tom, you are, so keep your comments about other folk to yourself!’ Mrs Trotter glared at Frank, making him blush. ‘Nobody’s perfect and it’s about time you realised it. Still, I’m disappointed with Lizzie, I always thought she was a nice lass.’

‘I liked her; she taught me my job and she was all right with me. I only hope she and the baby will do well with George,’ Mary said, forgetting that it was only she who knew about the baby growing in Lizzie’s belly.

‘She was expecting! Oh my Lord, no wonder they pinched silver and brandy. They’ll need every penny because George hasn’t any money,’ Frank gasped.

‘I feel sorry for her,’ Mary said and looked at the faces of the kitchen staff.

‘She’s been leading us all on with her sweetness.’ Mrs Trotter shook her head. ‘They are the worse sort, the ones that can lie to your face.’

The conversation stopped abruptly as Nancy came out of John Whitelock’s office with a look on her face that none in the kitchen had ever seen before.

‘Thank you, Mary, thank you! Mr Whitelock says it’s you I’ve to thank for my leg up in the world. I’ll not let you down,’ she said, grinning with delight.

‘What’s she wittering on about?’ Mrs Trotter asked.

‘Nancy is to join me behind the bar. She is to have my job and I Lizzie’s, if all goes to plan,’ Mary announced, smiling.

‘Oh my Lord! As I say, the world’s gone mad. And who am I to have to help lay the tables and skivvy in my kitchen?’ Mrs Trotter demanded.

‘I don’t know, but it won’t be me, not ever again, because I’m not going to let Mary down. She’s shown faith in me, the only person who ever has, so I’m going to be the best barmaid ever,’ Nancy said, still grinning

‘You have got a lot to answer for, Mary Reynolds. You’ve only been here five minutes and you’ve tipped my kitchen upside down with gossip and worry.’ Mrs Trotter shook her head.

‘Things will be all right, I promise you, Mrs Trotter. It isn’t me, it’s just life’s happenings. After burying my brother I aim to make the most of my life because every day is precious. I think he’s still with me and looking after me because, without Lizzie leaving, I would have struggled to feed myself and to pay the rent. Things, I’m sure, happen for a reason.’ Mary smiled at Nancy.

‘I’ll not let you down, I promise,’ Nancy said quietly. She had found a friend at Whitelock’s and she wasn’t going to disappoint her.

That day Mary worked behind the bar by herself. She thought it better that way, just until she could broach the subject of Nancy’s appearance with her later that evening. She knew that it wasn’t Nancy’s fault that her dress and looks were at best a little drab, but she had to help the girl with both if Nancy was to work behind the bar with her so towards the end of the day, before she tackled the act of being accountable for the day’s takings, she decided to speak to her. It was a delicate situation and she felt awkward at having to say something that she knew Nancy might be offended by. She chose her moment well when Nancy came through from the kitchen on her own and watched Mary as she washed the last of the day’s dirty glasses before tackling the accounts with John Whitelock, who was to be summoned to assist her until she got used to handling that side of her new position.

‘Nancy …’ Mary felt her stomach churning as she plucked up the courage to tackle her poorly dressed friend. ‘I’m sorry for what I’m about to say, but it’s only because I want you to keep the job that’s on offer to you.’ She looked at Nancy awkwardly, feeling that she had no right to preach to the lass who had worked at Whitelock’s a lot longer than her, but she knew it was in her best interest that she did so. ‘Your dress and hair, Nancy, we need to do something about them if you are to serve behind the bar. Folk, especially the men, like to have something bonny to look at.’ She saw tears welling up in Nancy’s eyes.

‘I know I’m a scruff, Mary, but I can’t afford fancy clothes or to spend time on myself. There’s eleven at our house and any money that my older brother and I earn goes to filling mouths, so we haven’t anything left by the time the rent’s paid and there’s bread on the table. My mother does her best – she takes in ironing and washing – but my father, when he’s at home, just spends anything she makes on drink.’ Nancy dropped her head in shame.

‘Well, at least with your new position you’ll be earning a little bit more and that should help.’ Mary looked at the lass sadly. Nancy was not on her own – there were plenty of large families in Leeds struggling to make ends meet. ‘Look, I’ve got a dress or two that I’ve no need of and I can spare an hour or two tonight to help with your hair. Can you wait until I finish behind the bar and then walk down with me to my home? That way, in the morning you can start behind the bar with a new look and surprise all those who have doubted my decision.’ Mary smiled, she had nothing but sympathy for the lass who clearly wanted to better herself.

‘Me mam would worry where I’ve got to, Mary, so while you balance the till with Mr Whitelock, may I run home and tell her what I’m up to and tell her my good news? I’ll not be long; I’ll wait outside until you appear.’

Mary nodded her approval. ‘Very well. I’ll see you in an hour and we’ll walk down to my home. Let’s give those who doubted us a shock in the morning and have a new, glamorous Nancy standing in front of us in the morning.’ Mary smiled as Nancy turned tail and obviously couldn’t get home fast enough with her news. She was glad that she had given hope to her and she would do her best to make sure that her own new position was secure.