Sins of the Father

‘Playing outside. Didn’t you see them?’

‘No, but I saw a gang running wild on the bombsite and no doubt our lot are with them. Hang on, where’s Archie?’

‘He’s playing outside too.’

‘What! But he’s only a nipper.’

‘He’ll be all right. Luke will keep an eye on him.’

‘I still think he’s too young. You should have kept him in, Em.’

‘It wasn’t me who chucked him out.’

Dick’s expression soured as he turned to look at his father, but the man rose to his feet, saying, ‘I’m off out. You can tell him about the kids, Emma.’

‘I suppose the pub’s beckoning,’ Dick said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

‘Watch your mouth! Money’s tight and I’m only having one pint–not that it’s any of your business.’

‘How come you’re skint already?’

‘’Cos I had to stump up some of the rent arrears.’

‘If you paid the rent every week it wouldn’t mount up. I’m not surprised that Mr Bell put his foot down.’

‘I told you to watch your mouth. Like Emma, you’re getting too big for your boots and I ain’t standing for it. Now as I said, I’m off, and I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself in future. I’m the man of the house, and don’t you forget it.’

As the door slammed, Dick said, ‘What’s this about the kids?’

‘Alice Moon came to see Dad. She’s grown fond of James and Archie. Dad has agreed that she can have them permanently.’

Dick looked thunderstruck. ‘But he can’t do that!’

‘I felt the same way at first, but since then I’ve had time to think about it. The boys will be better off with Alice. She’ll look after them and they’ll have the life of Riley. Not only that, they’ll only be downstairs so we can see them whenever we want.’

‘It still ain’t right.’

‘Without James and Archie to look after, I’ll be able to get a job. I’d like that and I’ll be able to put some money in the pot too.’

Dick sighed heavily. ‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but I’m gonna miss the little tykes, especially Archie.’

Emma pictured her youngest brother’s cheeky face, and knew she would too. Dick sat on the only chair they had, the one vacated by their father, and his eyes closed. He’s tired, Emma thought, and it isn’t surprising. To earn a few bob extra Dick had taken a shift at the Sunday market, rising at five. Sighing, she went back to her sewing, her thoughts drifting again.

Emma felt a wave of guilt. It would have broken her mother’s heart to see the family torn apart and maybe she should have fought more to keep James and Archie. Yet she couldn’t help feeling excited. Working in a shop would be nice; especially a clothes shop or jeweller’s. Distracted, the needle pricked her finger and she let out a small yelp, lifting it to her mouth to suck the blood. She hated sewing. In fact she hated all housework. It was never-ending, the washing, ironing, cooking, cleaning. Her eyes widened in realisation. The work would still have to be done, but how was she going to keep on top of it if she was at work all day? For a moment Emma was flummoxed, but then straightened her shoulders with determination. The rest of them would have to help, to muck in and do their share. She’d give each of them a job, one that, depending on age, they’d be capable of doing.

A small smile played around her lips as she settled back again, ignoring her pricked finger as she finished off the patch. Susan wasn’t too bad with a needle and could do the repairs from now on. It was time to sort them out, to move on. For the first time since her mother’s death, Emma felt like living again.

Chapter Three

Things didn’t work out quite as Emma expected. Far from being upset, James and Archie were happy to live with Alice.

‘She’s nice,’ James said. ‘She plays with us, cuddles us, and we’ve got our own beds. I like it downstairs.’

Emma lowered her eyes, suddenly realising how much she had neglected them. She’d been busily wrapped up in housework with the ironing sometimes taking hours to complete, let alone the laundry and trying to mend clothes that were nothing but rags for the older ones to wear for school. She should have paid them more attention, but instead had given them bits and bobs to play with, old cotton reels and paper to cut into shapes, getting increasingly annoyed if they tried to distract her. When their mother was alive, they may have lacked money, but they had never lacked love. The housework would be abandoned if Archie or James wanted a cuddle, and when the others came home from school, she had listened patiently as they chatted away.

Everything had changed when she died. Now, when the kids came home Emma was often cross with them for getting under her feet, happy for them to play out on the streets until dinner was ready. God, no wonder they were running wild.

With a small groan, Emma hugged herself. She’d been so wrapped up in trying to run the home as her mother had that she’d forgotten the most important thing. Love. No wonder James and Archie were happy to live with Alice, going downstairs on Tuesday morning without demur. Alice had been wonderful, letting them run upstairs to Emma whenever they wanted, but the novelty soon wore off and for the rest of the day their trips grew more and more infrequent.

‘I want to live with Alice too,’ Susan said, breaking into Emma’s thoughts.

When Emma looked at her sister she saw Susan’s mouth drooping despondently, the child close to tears. Time to turn over a new leaf, she thought, and smiling softly, she rose to stroke Susan’s hair. ‘Oh, love, I’d miss you something rotten. What would I do without you to cuddle up to at night?’

Susan managed a small smile in return, but she obviously wasn’t completely mollified. ‘Alice’s flat is much nicer than ours, and I bet she buys loads of stuff for James and Archie. It ain’t fair, Em.’

‘Once I get a job we’ll be able to have new things too. I’ll be able to save up to buy us some decent clothes, and this winter I promise you’ll get a nice new coat.’

‘Me too?’ Bella cried, followed by an echo from Ann.

‘Yes, you too,’ Emma placated, ‘and what about you, Luke? What would you like?’

Luke’s head dipped to one side. ‘Well…if we’ve got the money, I’d like a cat, a ginger one. I like cats.’

‘We’ll see, but don’t forget that in future when you come home from school, you’ll all have little jobs to do.’

‘We know,’ Luke said.

Emma held out her arms to her youngest sister, gratified when Ann ran into them. ‘When I’m not here, be a good girl and do what Luke tells you.’

Ann’s head burrowed into Emma’s chest. ‘All right, Em.’

With a small sigh Emma closed her eyes. She hoped they’d be all right. Alice had agreed that they could run to her if there was an emergency, and that had eased her mind. Now all she wanted was to find a decent job, something she intended to do as soon as the kids left for school in the morning.

* * *

At five thirty the next morning, Emma heard Dick stirring, and she too rolled carefully off the mattress to follow him down the ladder.

She hated lighting the fire during the summer months, but without it she wouldn’t be able to boil a kettle or cook anything for the kids’ breakfasts. As soon as these tasks were completed she would thankfully douse it, and it wouldn’t be rekindled until she had to cook dinner.

‘You don’t usually get up this early,’ Dick said as he went to the sink for a sluice down, afterwards drying himself on a piece of rag.

‘If I get a job today I’ll have to get used to it. There’ll be loads to do before the kids go to school and I might as well start as I mean to go on.’

‘Loads to do? Such as?’

‘Well, after sorting the kids I’ll need to prepare dinner in advance and it takes a while to get the vegetables ready. Then I’ll have to cook them, at least partly, finishing them off when I come home.’

‘Yeah, I suppose so. I’d best get a move on or I’ll be late.’

‘What about your breakfast?’

‘Charlie always gets me a bacon roll from the café and a nice big mug of tea too.’

‘He’s a good boss, you’re lucky.’

‘Yeah, he ain’t bad, but he’s a bit of a slave-driver at times. Still, it could be worse. See you later,’ he called, the door shutting behind Dick before Emma had time to reply.

Emma’s stomach rumbled. A bacon roll! What she wouldn’t give for a bacon roll. One day, she thought, cheering herself up. If she found a good job they could all have bacon again. She went to the sink, pulling the metal bucket out from underneath and picking out vegetables to use in a stew. God, she was sick of vegetable stew, sick of eating the same thing every day. With her first pay packet she’d grab the ration book and head for the butcher’s. At the thought of meat, her mouth salivated.

When the kids got up, chaos reigned. As though to show their displeasure at this change of routine, all except Luke played up. Susan said she felt ill, but when Emma felt her forehead, there was no sign of a fever. Used to Susan’s wily ways to get out of school, Emma ignored her whines as she encouraged them to dress, sad that despite her best efforts they still looked like a band of ragamuffins.

She made the porridge, handing each of them a bowl, but when Susan sat on the floor, taking her first mouthful, she grimaced. ‘It’s horrible, Em. Ain’t we got any sugar left?’

‘No. You had the last of the sugar that Alice gave us yesterday.’

‘I can’t eat it without sugar.’

‘Then you’ll go hungry,’ Emma said impatiently.

Susan pouted, took a few more mouthfuls, but abandoned the rest. The others ate without complaint, and at last they were ready for school.

‘Now then,’ Emma said firmly, ‘off you go. I’ll be looking for a job today and may not be here when you come home from school. If that’s the case you all know what you have to do.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll look after them,’ Luke said.

‘I know you will,’ Emma said, smiling at her brother, ‘but don’t forget what I said. Don’t try to light the fire. I’ll do it when I come home.’

Luke nodded, but as Emma looked at the girls she saw the confusion and uncertainty in their eyes. Remembering her determination to turn over a new leaf, she hugged them one by one, saying reassuringly, ‘You’ll be fine with Luke and…and I’ll see you later. Be good at school,’ she added as they reluctantly shuffled off.

The door had hardly closed when Emma heard her father coming down the ladder. He scratched his head, then a fit of coughing racked his body.

‘I don’t suppose there’s any tea going?’ he croaked.

‘Since when have we had money for tea? I used to dry nettles for Mum, but you never drank it.’

‘I can’t stand the stuff.’

Emma said nothing. She hated talking to her father and avoided it as much as possible. Instead of sitting down he went to the sink, gulping down a mug of water before sluicing more over his head. Emma left him to it, climbing the stairs to the loft again.

She needed to get ready, and hoped the clothes she had sorted out the night before would be all right. She’d carefully ironed a blouse, but the pattern had almost faded, the material worn thin. The skirt wasn’t too bad, though you could see a line where the hem had been taken down, which no amount of ironing could hide. She had no stockings, but hoped nobody would notice, and lifting her hand to touch her hair, wished she had something to pin it up. It felt stiff, lank, but without soap she’d only been able to rinse it with cold water. Pulling at the tangles with her fingers, she did the best she could, then returned downstairs.

The room was empty, her father gone, no doubt late for work again. This was a common occurrence and he was always getting the sack, now travelling to a building site in Chelsea after losing a job that had been just round the corner.

Oh, she didn’t want to think about him. Today was a new beginning for her, and after a swift look to check that the fire had been doused, Emma hurried out, running down the stairs with her heart full of hope as she headed for the nearest row of shops.

Later that day, Emma was trudging to the market, footsore and near to tears. When she thought about the reception she’d received, her cheeks reddened with humiliation. She’d gone into a dress shop in Falcon Road first, her eyes lighting up when she saw the lovely garments hanging on rails. There were pretty pastel dresses, nipped in at the waist with matching belts, and she itched to touch them, to feel the material, but had resisted, going up to the counter wide-eyed with eagerness to ask if they had any vacancies.

‘Miss Fisher,’ the young and very smart girl behind the counter had called.

‘Yes, can I help you?’ a slim, middle-aged and sophisticated woman asked as she came out from a back room.

‘I…I’m looking for work,’ Emma stammered.

‘I’m sorry, but we already have a cleaner.’

In her innocence, Emma had smiled, ‘Oh, no, I haven’t come for a cleaning job. I’d like to work in the shop.’

‘You must be joking,’ Miss Fisher said, eyebrows rising haughtily as she eyed Emma up and down. ‘We have very high standards here, and I could hardly offer you employment looking like that.’

Emma had seen the smirk on the young sales assistant’s face, and flushed, but, fighting to hide her humiliation, she’d kept her head up. ‘Fine, I wouldn’t want to work here anyway.’ And on that note she’d turned on her heels, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Blimey, what a couple of snobs, Emma decided as she’d walked away, refusing to let this encounter stop her. Yet by the time she had tried a few other garment shops the penny had well and truly dropped. Compared to all the sales assistants’ attire, her clothes looked awful, scruffy. No wonder they wouldn’t employ her. She’d tried a grocer, a baker, a haberdashery shop, but she’d received the same reception time and again.

The colourful stalls failed to lift Emma’s spirits as she reached the market. It was buzzing with noise and several traders raised their hands to wave at her.

‘Watcha, gorgeous,’ called one. ‘If I wasn’t a married man I’d come out from behind me stall to give you a smacker.’

Emma forced a smile, but it failed to reach her eyes. She didn’t look gorgeous. She looked a mess.

‘What’s up, Em?’ Dick asked as she approached his stall. ‘You look a bit down in the mouth.’

‘I’m too scruffy to get a job in a shop,’ she told him.

‘You look fine to me.’

‘Don’t look so downhearted, girl,’ Charlie, the stall-holder, consoled, and, holding out a mug, he added, ‘Here, you can have me tea. It’ll buck you up no end.’

Emma gratefully took the mug, the strong tea tasting like nectar as she gulped it down. It did make her feel better, invigorated, but she still had no idea where to try next for a job. ‘Thanks, Charlie,’ she said, handing him the empty mug.

Charlie Roper was a nice man, but showing his age now, his gnarled fingers gripping the mug. ‘Try the factories, love. There’s Tate and Lyle’s round the corner, for a start.’

She lowered her eyes. She didn’t want to work in a factory, but there didn’t seem to be any choice. ‘Yes, I’ll do that.’

As customers approached the stall, she called a quick goodbye before moving away.

At four o’clock, Emma was on her way home, her cheeks burning at the memories. Even the factories had turned her down, saying there weren’t any vacancies for unskilled workers, but at least this time she believed them, believed that her appearance hadn’t made any difference. She’d been led through countless factory floors to foremen’s offices, seen women working on machines, their hair in turbans and clothes covered by overalls. Sometimes the noise was deafening and she wondered how they put up with it, but by this time she would have taken anything.

Emma was still brooding when she finally reached her street. It was treeless, grey and dingy, but she was used to the scenery. A few children were playing marbles in the gutter, and a couple of little girls were arguing over a skipping rope made from an old clothes line. Emma hardly noticed. She went into the dilapidated house where she lived and climbed the stairs wearily to the attic.

As she walked into the room the children clambered around her. ‘Did you get a job, Em?’ ‘Where will you be working?’ ‘Will you be earning lots of money?’

Impatiently brushing them aside, Emma looked around and her temper flared. ‘Look at the state of this place. You were supposed to do your jobs, but this room hasn’t been touched.’

‘We’ve only been home for five minutes, Em,’ Luke said. ‘We were just about to start.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, love,’ Emma cried as she flopped onto a chair. ‘I shouldn’t be taking it out on you, but I’ve been walking for hours.’ She pushed off her shoes, massaging her aching feet.

‘Did you get a job?’ Susan asked again.

Emma tried to sound more assured than she felt. ‘No, not yet, but don’t worry, I’ll try again tomorrow.’

‘Come on, you lot,’ Luke said, sounding older than his years. ‘Let’s get our jobs done. Emma’s worn out and needs a rest.’

The tears broke then. Oh, Luke was such a good boy, so thoughtful.

He rushed to her side and his arm snaked around her shoulder. ‘What’s up, Em? Do you want me to get Alice?’

‘No, I’ll be all right. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.’ They were all looking at her worriedly and she fought to pull herself together. ‘Go on then, get on with your jobs,’ she urged, pleased when they all did her bidding. She had told them she’d try for work again tomorrow, and she’d do just that. But where?

Chapter Four

After trudging around Fulham the following day, Emma had paused on Wandsworth Bridge on her way home, staring down into the grey, murky water of the River Thames as a coal barge passed below. It was hopeless, nobody wanted to employ her, and she had hated telling the kids that she still hadn’t found work. It was her appearance, she was sure of it, especially when even an ironmonger had given her the cold shoulder.

Now it was ten o’clock on Friday morning, but instead of going out to look for work again, she was slumped on a stool at home. Her father was growing impatient, telling her to look harder, but then the door was flung open as James rushed into the room.

‘Alice sent me up. She wants to see you.’

Emma forced a smile as she rose to her feet. James looked lovely in his new clothes. He was wearing grey shorts that just reached his knees, a pristine white shirt, and he even had a pair of little slippers on his feet. She may have had doubts about the two youngest living with Alice, but seeing how well James looked, any lingering reservations were dispelled.

‘What does Alice want?’

‘I dunno. She just said to tell you that the kettle’s on.’

A cup of tea, Emma thought, appreciating the woman’s kindness. With James in the lead she went downstairs.

‘Blimey, you look a bit fed up, love. What’s the matter?’ Alice said as she walked in.

‘I’ve been looking for a job, but nobody wants to take me on. I look too scruffy to work in a shop and the factories haven’t any vacancies.’

‘You’re such a pretty girl and we can spruce you up to look like a princess, more than fit to work in a shop. Come on, get this cup of tea down you and then we’ll start with your hair.’

‘Look, Emma,’ Archie said, holding up a little wooden boat. ‘Ucky Cyril made it for me.’

‘Uncle Cyril, not Ucky,’ Alice chuckled.

‘I’ve got one too,’ James said, joining Archie on the floor.

As the two children played with their boats, Emma watched them for a moment, noticing how clean and shiny their hair looked. She took a gulp of tea.

‘Unlike those two, it’ll take more than my hair to improve my appearance, Alice,’ she said.

‘Don’t worry. I’m sure I can find you something decent to wear.’

Alice had a lovely curvaceous body and Emma doubted she could fill her clothes. Her own bust was small, her hips tiny in comparison, and she was at least two inches shorter.

As if sensing her thoughts, Alice grinned. ‘I used to be a lot slimmer than this and I’ve kept the clothes I used to wear back then, hoping I’d get back into them one day. Come on, I’ll show you.’

Emma placed the cup on the table, then followed Alice into her bedroom. Unlike her family’s attic room, this one was lovely. Instead of mattresses on the floor, there was a real double bed with a wooden headboard and flowery spread. Emma’s eyes took in the two double wardrobes and dressing table, a pink glass trinket set arranged prettily on top. With so much furniture the room looked stuffed full, but to Emma it was beautiful.

Alice opened one of the wardrobes and when Emma saw the rail of clothes she gasped with envy. Alice rummaged past a couple of plain, linen dresses, finally pulling out two blouses and a skirt. ‘Cyril is always moaning that I never throw anything away, but I knew these would come in handy one day. Here, try them on.’

‘Oh, Alice, how can you afford so many lovely things?’

‘My Cyril earns a decent wage on the buses and there’s only been the two of us until now. I wanted kids so much, but they never came along. I think I shopped as a kind of compensation. Of course, during the war there wasn’t much on offer, only drab clothes, but I still managed to indulge myself. Since clothes rationing ended, I must admit I’ve gone a bit mad.’ She smiled softly. ‘It’s different now. The boys have changed our lives, and Cyril is growing as daft about them as me. Now come on, Emma, try these things on.’

Emma slowly undressed, ashamed that Alice was going to see her old and tatty knickers. She didn’t have a brassiere, but with her small bust it didn’t seem to matter. As Alice turned away to pull open one of the drawers in her dressing table, Emma hastily put on the skirt and first blouse. The light blue cotton skirt flared from the waist and felt a little loose. It was also a couple of inches too long, but she didn’t care. It looked almost new and felt wonderful. The white blouse with its Peter Pan collar was loose too, but it smelled fresh, of something flowery, and so soft against her skin.

‘They don’t look bad,’ Alice said. ‘You’ll just need to move the button on the waist and take it up. I’ve found some underwear too. This bra might fit you.’

‘I…I don’t think I need a bra,’ Emma said, feeling her face redden.

‘Of course you do. You can’t go around without a bra on at your age. Now come on, put your own stuff back on and we’ll have a go at your hair.’

‘You won’t be able to do anything with it.’

‘Of course I will, but first we’ll give it a good wash.’

Emma was apologetic. ‘I’ve tried to make it look nice, but without soap it dries all matted.’

‘Oh, love, I’m not saying you aren’t clean. I know you do your best, but as you say, it needs to be washed properly. Come on, I’ve got just the thing, and then I’ll give it a bit of a trim.’

It was over two hours later when Alice finally sighed with satisfaction. ‘There, you look smashing,’ she said.

Emma stared at her reflection in Alice’s mirror, hardly able to believe her eyes. Her lank, dull blonde hair was now shining, and sat on her shoulders in a profusion of waves. She still had her old clothes on, but she intended to alter Alice’s skirt as soon as she went upstairs.

‘Oh, Alice, I can’t believe it’s me,’ she cried, her eyes fixed on the mirror.

‘You’re not just pretty, Emma, you’re beautiful, just like your mum,’ Alice said, her eyes suddenly moist. ‘I was going to suggest a bit of make-up, but with such lovely skin you don’t need it. A touch of lipstick is enough. Blimey, anyone would be mad not to give you a job now.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Emma said, finally tearing her eyes away from the mirror.

James and Archie had been so good, but were now demanding Alice’s attention.

‘They want their lunch,’ Alice said. ‘They never stop eating. My Cyril thinks they’ve got hollow legs.’