Read A Woman Undefeated Online
Authors: Vivienne Dockerty
“We were only talking about it at Christmas, weren’t we Maggie, about becomin’ an apprentice at the dressmakers?” Alice said with deliberation. “The woman’s getting’ on in years, Jack, and if things don’t work out fer you both in Liverpool, Maggie could buy that shop off her, or buy an even bigger property and go into competition. But, fer now I can’t see it harmin’ her to sit fer a couple of hours each day doing a bit of needlework. So, we’ll go about two o’clock, Maggie, because everywhere closes fer lunch at one.”
“Maggie, you’re here again. Come to help me out, I hope,” Betty remarked, delighted, as the girl slipped into her shop after saying goodbye to Jack’s parents. “I’ve been inundated with people wanting lengths of material to make their own outfits and I’ve had three orders for walking dresses that have to be completed by the end of May. Now that you are here, take your cloak off and I’ll make you a cup of tea, then we’ll talk about what needs doing.”
She paused for a moment then looked at me thoughtfully. “You have come to help me haven’t you, not just come to check up on your investments? Happily, your seventeen pounds has all been lent out!”
Maggie had to lean against the door post when she heard her words, as she couldn’t believe her ears! Betty put down the garment that she had been stitching and asked her to follow her through.
“Come and sit down, my dear. The weather is really warm, especially for you in your condition. I can show you the ledger later on, but your little venture has certainly taken off. What with the Ladies’ Walking Day coming up and the colliery being on short time again.”
“I’m really surprised, Miss Rosemary,” Maggie said shakily, as she was so overwhelmed that her money had been loaned out so quickly. “Are yer sure yer don’t mind takin’ the trouble to do this fer me? Only you’ve such a lot to do already with yer own business, without havin’ to think of mine.”
“No trouble at all, Maggie,” she said airily. “In past years I’ve sometimes run a weekly club, so that the poorer people could pay me a little off their purchase, a bit at a time, but I always ran the risk of having to chase up defaulters. This way they think they are dealing with an important loan company, especially having to sign their names at the bottom of their agreement. They’ll be nervous of a visit from a big brute of a fellow, if they don’t make their repayments. It is the same for Ezra Williams, he’s pleased to pass on the information regarding the Sheldon Loan Company, because he finds it hard to say no when he is asked for food stuffs to be put on the slate.”
“Yer haven’t told him that the money we’re lending belongs to me, then?”
“No, indeed not, Maggie. Ezra will have the same thoughts as other men. That a woman’s place is in the home, not involved in such a masculine industry as a loan company. Dressmaking or shop work, yes, he can just about deal with. No, I said that I am the
agent temporarily, until the company finds suitable premises in the village.”
“Good,” Maggie replied thankfully. “And if yer don’t mind, Miss Rosemary, I’ve bin thinkin’ that I won’t be takin’ any of the money out. You know, like the interest or whatever yer call it. Jack made such a lot of money from the match he won last Friday, that it is time he began supportin’ me. I’ll keep this as a little nest egg, in case I need it at a future time.”
“That is fine with me, Maggie, and now you can tell me all about what happened with that business involving Solly Tibbs. We’ll have that cup of tea and then we’ll sit and get on with all this stitching that I’ve taken on. I hope you’ll keep your promise and come in every day.”
The first Thursday in June arrived, dry and warm, and the spirits in Seagull Cottage were high, as they all looked forward to experiencing the joys to be had during Ladies’ Walking Day. Maggie had heard that a procession would begin from St. Mary’s on the High Street, with the leading members of the district and wives and daughters of humble working men walking around the streets of Neston as one, carrying staves garlanded with bounteous flowers and a red rose pinned on each chest. Later these staves were to be placed as pew ends during a service to celebrate the aims of this benefit society, then tea was to be provided in the school room, with slices of homemade cake and sticky buns. A fair was to be held on the fields that backed onto the village and dancing in the evening had been organized on the green behind the Golden Lion. Non-members were charged an admission fee, the proceeds of which went to club funds.
The family walked excitedly up the Parkgate Road, behind crowds of others who were intent on having an enjoyable day. They chose a spot to stand at the crossroads by the drinking fountain, so that Maggie could sit on the low stone wall, if it got too much for her.
A cheer went up as the procession began, marching slowly
down the hill from the church. The Band of Hope led the way, with an uplifting tune, which, of course, none of the family knew. But Maggie did recognize the material of some of the dresses that went wafting by, especially the pink and green satin walking dress she had worked on. It sort of made her feel part of it all, a sense that brought on an inner glow.
Jack had suggested that, after the procession was over and people had gone into the Anglican church, they took advantage of this quiet time to wander over to the fair. They all agreed it was the best thing to do and that there would perhaps be somewhere to sit and have a little refreshment.
Maggie remembered Annie telling her of the gypsies and she looked around rather fearfully as they walked into the field. Though why she was worried, she didn’t know, when she’d got the local champion fighter at her side!
She had noticed the deference from the people who had recognized Jack, from his drinking cronies and other people who knew him. She had to admit to a sneaking pride at being beside him, especially as he kept insisting on introducing her as the Missis, telling all and sundry that he was a father to be!
Maggie glanced over to the gaudily painted gypsy wagons that were drawn into a circle over by a clump of trees, but her attention was soon caught by the swing boats, hobby horses, fire eaters and shooting galleries. With a fortune-teller, coconut shies, guess the weight of the fat lady, and a hot potato stall, there was plenty to do and see for everyone, but first they made for a little roped off area where they could sit at a table and drink home made lemonade.
Later, Alice and Maggie watched as Jack and Michael tried their hand with a rifle, both winning a novelty ornament at the shooting gallery, a china dog and a pretty little pot pony. Both would gain pride of place on the Seagull Cottage mantle piece. Then they went to guess the weight of the fat lady, where Maggie thought, unkindly, that if Ruthie ever needed a job, this would be the one. Her ex-neighbour was even fatter than the lady on show!
Unfortunately, they were all well out in their estimates, so sauntered on to look at other things.
They couldn’t believe their eyes, when they saw the man who was sticking a flaming sword down his throat. No wonder he drank a bucket of water afterwards, probably to put out the fire! They looked at the fortune-teller’s tent and bickered between themselves, over whether or not to go in and have their palms read. But Madame Petunioni already had someone with her, so they would have had to have waited anyway. It was long enough to make them decide that none of them wanted to see into the future, and surely it was against their religion anyway.
The church service at St. Mary’s over, a surge of people came running onto the field to sample the delights, as they had. It was time for them to go, though they had lost sight of Seamus. He was last seen disappearing with Danny, to enjoy the thrill of the swing boats. But now the boy was coming up to fifteen and nearly a man, Michael decreed he was allowed a little time from under the noses of his parents. Maybe next year, he said, when the baby had arrived, Jack and Maggie could stay longer and partake in the evening dancing. The grandparents would be only too happy to take the baby off their hands. Even if they had moved to Liverpool, they would still be over to visit, he was sure. Especially as Ladies’ Walking Day was an annual event to enjoy.
If only life could always be as perfect as it was now, Maggie thought a few weeks later, as she sat comfortably on the window seat in the bedroom, looking out over the estuary to the Welsh hills.
She felt settled, more than she ever thought she would, considering that she had Alice as a mother-in-law. Both women were getting on famously, as Maggie left Alice to make all decisions, especially considering it was her household.
She helped as much as her bulky body would allow her, but only that morning a visit from Nellie, the midwife, had confirmed what she had been thinking, that the baby was on the way. She had a constant dull ache at the bottom of her back and during the night had frequently been passing water in the chamber pot.
It was as well Jack was away with Michael, visiting a prospective property for the couple to live in; being put up in a good hotel while further discussions were taking place. It seemed that Mannion, the agent, had found a coach for Jack and soon he’d be busy with his training each day.
Jack had banned her from visiting Miss Rosemary’s a couple of weeks back and she was only allowed to walk the promenade as far as the Boat House. The rest of the day was spent with her feet up, sewing ribbons into the neck seams of the little baby gowns.
It was the first day of August, her birthday. She wondered hopefully, as she sat there, if Michael Patrick would make his appearance that day.
Michael Patrick Haines, did indeed put in an appearance on her birthday. Well, at least his head did, on the stroke of midnight. Nellie decided that she would count his birth as having happened on the first of August, so that mother and son could celebrate their birthdays together. It would make life so much easier!
It had been a quick delivery considering it was the first one, according to the midwife, though Maggie didn’t feel as if it had been that quick. The pushing and grunting had seemed to take forever and the pain was, at times, unbearable, but looking at her chestnut haired son lying in his perambulator, a present from his proud grandparents, purchased at the finest shop in Chester, it didn’t now seem that bad.
Michael Patrick was now almost three months old, growing more handsome by the minute. Or so it was said by people that she passed by in the High Street, when she took the pram and its passenger out for his daily walk. She had decided to call him Mikey, as it was all so confusing having two Michael’s around. And because he was a baby, the name wasn’t so grownup, and better than Mick, which sounded like an Irish navvie’s name.
She had higher hopes for him than that, when the time came for her grown child to choose employment. A track layer, or a tunnel digger were not the jobs she had in mind.
Jack had been over the moon when he had returned to Seagull Cottage. He had arrived two days after the birth, excusing his
absence by saying he would have only been in the way. To his mind, the process of delivering a baby was essentially only women’s work. Far better meeting his son when the child was all cleaned up and cheerful, than pacing the floor and having to listen to gruesome noises from the wife in the bedroom above.
Although Jack had arrived back pleased to hear that everything was fine with his wife and little baby, he was full of what was happening now he had met Billy Jackson, his coach.
Billy had once been a fighter on the Northern circuits, who’d retired when he found that his hearing was going and been hired by Lord Belsham to train this raw recruit. He had already started Jack on his strict regime. Three hours daily devoted to exercise and an intake of food that would keep his muscles strong. Jack had to cut out his favourite sustenance of potatoes and bread. He could only drink beer on special occasions and never even sniff it if a match was only days ahead.
The house in Toxteth was far better then he had expected. There was a parlour, dining room, family room, kitchen and scullery on the ground floor, three bedrooms and a good sized bathroom on the first. With attics that could be accommodation for a live-in cook and a general maid should he require them. Jack thought that Maggie would think she had died and gone to heaven when she and the little fellow moved across the water to Liverpool, but that weekend when he came home, she had shown no enthusiasm at all about seeing the place and three months later, Jack’s patience was wearing thin.
During the first week of September, Jack decided to move into the Toxteth house alone. The cook and the maid he decided to have were supplied by an agency, providing an excellent service to their new master, though Alice said when she saw him that Jack was beginning to look thin. Michael stayed over, when there was business to discuss with Richard Mannion and Lord Belsham had paid a visit already, to check the house, the staff and his new investment.
Alice, of course, had been over and given everything her
blessing, like Maggie knew she would. She chided Maggie on her return, saying that the child and herself were missing out on a very good life. Alice had enjoyed looking at the highly glossed quality furniture, the excellent amenities and the fact there was a bathroom off the first landing. The house as yet, had not been fitted with pipes or a geyser to heat up all the water, but there was a maid there, she said, who looked capable of bringing buckets of hot water up the stairs.