Annie's Promise (17 page)

She walked back to the room, but they were still not dry. She rubbed them down her skirt, putting on her smile, walking into the room where Sarah was sitting, where the nurse was taking his temperature.

‘Fever again today, Annie,’ Staff Nurse said, ‘and he won’t eat you know. Can you try him with some ice cream?’ She handed the bowl to Annie who sat down by the bed.

‘I’m not a child,’ Georgie said faintly. ‘Just not hungry.’

Annie held the spoon in her hand, then dug it into the ice cream, lifting it, carrying it to his mouth. ‘Into the hole then,’ she said, ‘the rabbit wants to go into the hole,’ and the room was so hot, her hands so slippery and it was Prue that she saw there, the light of madness in her eyes. It was the sound of the guards, shouting and screaming that she heard and
she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move and then she turned, looked at Sarah.

‘Feed him,’ she said thrusting the bowl at her, walking from the room, down the corridor, down the stairs, not the lift, out into the air, breathing in deep gulps, clearing her head of images, of sounds, gripping her own arms, holding herself tight.

She sat on the bench, feeling its cool hardness and then she heard the gulls, saw the dark brick of the hospital, felt the cotton of her dress, looked at her hands. They were quite dry. She looked at them again, they were scored with needle marks, they were sore from opening envelopes, from entering, from stamping. They were sore from knitting, God damn it.

She rose then, walking back to the entrance, taking the lift, going back into the room, taking the bowl from Sarah.

‘He won’t have it, Mum.’

‘Oh yes he damn well will.’ Annie said because there was no time for either of them to sink, they had a future to get on with. ‘Oh yes you will, my bonny lad. Open up.’

Georgie looked at her. ‘I don’t want any.’

‘Well I want you to have some, because until you start really getting better, my love, we can’t have you home. We need you there, for us, and for the business. We can’t manage without you, so come on, eat up.’

Staff Nurse came back into the room but Annie didn’t care.

‘Come on, Georgie, you’re not doing justice to yourself. Get this down you, get yourself sorted out and come home.’

Annie held the spoon, looking into his face, into eyes which were still dark and dead.

‘Mum,’ Sarah shouted. ‘Stop it, how can you, he’s ill!’

Staff Nurse said, ‘He’s not ill, he’s better now, or he could be, your mother’s quite right – just you remember that my girl. It doesn’t do anybody any good to spoil them. We’ve been waiting for this to happen.’

She stood behind Annie and neither of them looked up as Sarah ran from the room.

‘Come on, Georgie,’ Annie said again. ‘I can’t do it all on my own. I need you to get better, to come home.’

He opened his mouth then and his eyes were brighter, she fed him once, then gave him the spoon. ‘Come on then, you know you like strawberry.’

‘I like you better, Annie Armstrong,’ his voice was still faint but now there was a smile and it lit up both their eyes.

They managed to keep their supply level-pegging with demand and Annie pinned up a series of coloured stock control boards giving an instant picture of availability. These she updated as the garments came in and went out. They needed to set on another homeworker, to set up another design, plan for the next mail shot, sort out that catalogue.

‘We need some coverage too, I’ll chat to the newspaper, tell them of our success, try and swing it this time, they weren’t interested for the first one. Talk to the nationals as well can you, Tom? See if the fashion page will mention it in
The Mail
since we’re placing the advertisement with them. We’ll set Joe’s wife on, isn’t her name Jean?’

They received requests for outsize and filled them – it was surprising how little sleep a person really needed, Annie thought, brushing aside her headaches, her trembling hands.

She asked Mr Adcock to move Georgie into the general ward and Staff Nurse concurred. ‘He needs company, he needs to be eased into other people,’ Annie said.

Adcock agreed and asked her if she’d like a job. She thought he was joking but he wasn’t, or only half.

‘Sorry, I’ve got to get this lot on the road,’ she answered because she didn’t need to prove anything any more did she, she had pushed back the shadows, hadn’t she?

‘We’ll send out a catalogue with the next one or two, shall we?’ Annie asked Georgie the next day as he sat up in bed, squeezing his hand round rubber balls, trying to build up his strength.

‘Yes, let’s sort that out, it’s a good idea. By the way Don’s
been in, talked quite a lot. I told him about you, and the business. He was surprised, I was proud.’

‘Did Maud come?’

‘Towards the end. Still flashing her nails. Thought I’d be in a room on me own, she was quite put out – all these beds, all these people and no one quite knowing where they’d been.’

‘Nice of them to come. Did they eat your fruit?’ Annie looked at the spidery grapeless stalks. Georgie nodded and they laughed.

‘Left me some chocs though, take them home, pig yourself, you’ve got too thin, bonny lass.’

Annie left them in the cupboard, ‘Share them with this lot,’ she said, looking round the ward, grinning at the other patients, and visitors.

Georgie nodded. ‘I’ll lick all the nut ones first though. What about the tour, are you going?’

He didn’t look at her as he said it. Annie looked out across the ward.

‘Couldn’t, I’ll need to be home when you get back. I shall expect to be snatched up and tangoed down the street, just to shock the neighbours.’

He laughed. ‘Maybe a waltz.’

‘I’ll settle for that and we shall picture Tom presenting his knicks and bras to all the female buyers. They’ll love it.’

Two days later they received another large order from Glasgow and they were tripping over one another in the diningroom, trying to check, trying to pack, snapping at each other, making errors, and in the kitchen there was nowhere for Annie and Sarah to eat because Meg’s sewing machine was on the table and her garments had to be moved from there each evening or they smelt of the food they cooked.

The mail-shot coupons were still arriving in sacks. Annie ordered a further roll from the supplier. He was pleased, surprised.

‘Really taking off then?’

‘It’s wonderful, and we’ve a buyer’s re-order from Glasgow too, so stand by your phone in the autumn after the tour, we’ll need more, if your prices are still competitive, Jack.’ Annie laughed, knowing that word would travel fast via Jack, or Big mouth as he was known in the trade.

‘So eat your heart out Manners,’ she said to herself as she poured the tea.

Tom came in that afternoon, leaving the door, open, propping himself up on the drainer.

‘Planning Permission’s come through for the conversion of Briggs’ place, so come and go over these with me, Gracie’s just coming.’ He waved the balance sheets at her, hauled her into the yard, pushing an upturned tub towards her with his foot, shutting the door.

Annie sat there, relishing the peace of a sewing machineless world. ‘This is where I need to set up my office, on an upturned tub next to a downbeat pigeon loft. What more could I want, and if it rains, I shall just roost
in
the loft – perfect. I can even smoke.’ She pulled out her cigarettes, tapped one out, lit it, inhaled. God, she was tired. God, it was noisy in there. God, it was a mess and this evening she must take time to clear up, then just sit and talk to Sarah, and most of all listen to her day – there had been no time last night, or the night before.

‘Well, while you’re sitting there, puffing, have a read of these.’ Tom handed her the balanced sheets, smiling at Gracie as she came through into the yard. ‘Look at the profit so far.’

Annie looked. She couldn’t believe it. She’d been working so hard she hadn’t even thought of profit and loss, of money. She had just paid the bills that had to be paid, worked, visited the hospital, and slept when she could.

‘Tom this is wonderful, we’re in profit. It’s that Glasgow one that’s done it. It’s tipped us over, well over.’

‘Right, and we’ve already paid up for the next mail shot because we’re using Manners’ stock aren’t we?’

Annie smiled. ‘Yes, we’ll get away with that now. We’ll
change the trim, it wouldn’t be worth his while to start rumours, the success of this will stifle anything like that. We can just get on and set up the next range, and the wholesale range. The traders are really picking up now and I’ve had three more Madam shops this afternoon. Big-mouth has done us proud.’

She passed the sheets to Gracie, drawing in on her cigarette, arcing it out over the garden.

‘You are so disgusting. That’ll have to stop.’ Tom groaned.

‘It’s for luck, bonny lad. It brings us luck, don’t you know anything?’ Annie said softly, leaning back, looking at him. ‘Because you’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?’

Gracie looked up at Annie, then at Tom who was nodding, grinning. ‘What are you two up to?’

Tom raised an eyebrow. ‘Briggs’ place.’

‘We can afford it.’ Annie leaned forward, her arms on her knees. ‘We could move in over a weekend. We’d need lights, shelving, tables immediately, heating by the end of the month and we’ve just about enough money for it. We’ll get everyone under one roof, Gracie and I wouldn’t have to deliver cutouts, or pick up completes, or liaise between the two houses. We wouldn’t have to eat on our knees, our kids would have their homes to themselves – and we’ve got to get set up and out of here before Georgie comes home anyway.’ She stood up. ‘Let’s do it now – move in when the lease is finalised. Shouldn’t take long. Bill’s been in the picture about it and he’ll know about the planning permission being granted – or he will when we get round there.’

Tom stood up, walked to the cigarette butt, picked it up, dropped it in the dustbin. ‘The only thing is …’

‘I know. There’ll have to be a no smoking rule. It’s going to bleeding well kill me, lad.’

Annie and Tom called in on Bill the next morning and she had been right, he had heard that the planning permission had come through. He had also been informed late last night by his area manager that Briggs’ Warehouse was part of a
parcel of properties taken over by a London-based consortium. The lease was still available but the price had tripled.

Annie looked at Bill, his face reddening, his eyes flicking from her to Tom. ‘I’m so sorry. There’s been no interest for months. I can’t understand it but it’s all part of a bigger deal that’s been handled in Newcastle. It’s been on offer there as well and they didn’t let me know this was going on. I’m sorry Annie, Tom.’

She looked at Tom who had gone pale and clenched her hands to keep them steady, hardly able to believe what she had heard, knowing that all their profits would be wiped out. They needed heaters by the end of the month, phones installed, electricians paid, carpenters for the work benches, the shelving, and there was the material Jack was keeping under the counter for the next mail shot. She looked at Tom.

‘It’s the only place here and we’ve got to stay in Wassingham, we promised ourselves that. Talk to them, Bill, talk to them.’ Annie was standing now, turning to leave. ‘Ring me at home when you have. Come on Tom.’

She cut out, checked, packed, talked to Sarah as they drove to Georgie, asking how long she could bear to eat on her knee, laughing when she said, ‘I like it, Mam, you don’t nag about me keeping me elbows in, or putting me elbows on the table, or clattering the plate.’

They walked down the ward, nodding, waving, chatting to the men. She told Georgie of the packing, Big-mouth, the three Madam shops. She showed him the preliminary sketches Tom had done for the autumn tour and asked for his go-ahead.

‘There’ll be more for the next mail shot.’

She didn’t tell him that they would be using Manners’ stock because he had thought they were using that first. She would merely bring in the designs they had used on the first shot, the samples too. Neither did she tell him of the premises because he would ask to see the figures and would veto it because Annie knew that another loan would be needed and she knew that Georgie would not go into debt, not after
Manners. And she knew that they must move, because Sister had told her that on Monday they would be trying him in a wheelchair, that soon he would be transferred to the special unit where he would learn to walk again, and soon he would be home.

Bill had spoken to his area manager who had asked for a revised price for the lease. It was refused. The bank agreed a loan, shared by Annie and Tom again because they had no choice but to accept the consortium’s terms – Georgie was coming home, there were no other suitable premises, there never would be in Wassingham. Their solicitor forced through the paperwork. The consortium co-operated because otherwise Annie threatened to withdraw and open up in the next village. ‘Eager to have their bloody money,’ Tom cursed.

‘Afraid that they’ll be left with a pup,’ said Annie.

It was agreed that they would move in over the weekend.

‘It’s as though some bugger is second guessing us, Tom,’ Annie said. ‘It’s as though every time we have enough to make it just that little bit easier the rug is pulled from under us.’

They moved in at nine a.m. Saturday morning, brushing, washing paintwork, until their hair was thick with dust and the air too. The children painted the woodwork when Annie had finished the whitewash.

She cleaned the lavatories, remembering Uncle Albert’s and how she had hoped that he had chilblains from the cold and an inky bum from the newspaper he used because he was too stingy to replace it with proper stuff. ‘Horrid old man,’ she murmured, then raised her voice and asked Tom to start the tables out in the yard. ‘We’ll cover them with tarpaulin if it looks like rain and no sawing and hammering when I’ve just painted or you’ll know what its like to be glossed from head to toe.’

They ate bread and cheese at lunchtime. The men drank beer but not too much for there was still the wiring to be done, the shelves to be erected, the tables to be finished.

Annie and Gracie pretended not to hear the curses as drills
were broken or hammers dropped though Davy and Sarah kept a notebook and wrote all the new words down.