Dreams Can Come True (2 page)

“You got any interestin’ cases up there, our Katie? What ‘appened ter that old woman that kept fallin’ on the floor?”

“Oh, yer mean poor Dolly? She should be up at Clatterbridge hospital really. She’s cloggin’ up a bed that could be used fer a sick person. Someone like yerself, aye Mam, if yer don’t get yer legs sorted out. Well, there is a new patient. His name is Joe Collins. He works as a labourer over at Haven Farm. Seems he was workin’ in a marl pit, yer know digging out the sea shells fer spreadin’ on the fields and his fork went through his boot. His foot ballooned up so much that he had to hop all the way ter the hospital on one leg. That’s nearly a mile or so. He couldn’t speak fer the pain of it, but I felt so sorry, because that was the farm where they had the rinderpest last year. Not only that, but I remember some of his family, when they came to stay at the hospital to get over the cholera. His dad died of it and his younger brother, but his mother and Tilly, his sister, came and stayed a few weeks. They say that where our hospital stands, it benefits from the gusting wind that comes over the salt marshes. Not like the fever ward at Clatterbridge. It used ter be a workhouse yer know, but they closed it down a few years ago.”

Ruthie shuddered. “Yer don’t have ter remind me. Many a time I thought we’d end up in there, especially when yer dad went on the piss, so I didn’t get no wages to spend. When I was younger I used ter fight him fer it. I’d get him under me arm and squeeze him ‘til the pips popped, but sometimes he was cunnin’ and he wouldn’t come home fer his tea. But one thing I’ll say in defence of yer dad, he always said it was best to live down here near the estuary. Down here we’ve got the spring water, up in the village they’ve got open sewers. They might have piped water, but the sewage gets into it, even if the authorities said the infection was carried in the air. No, that’s why you’ll never see me in any hurry to mix with the villagers. It carried me folks off in ‘44.”

“Well, they’re settin’ up a waterworks now, seems they’ve learnt their lesson. I remember Tilly tellin’ me that all their beddin’ had ter be burnt and they had to apply ter the Board of Guardians fer compensation. Said they got a voucher, which the authorities paid fer and they went ter Frogerty’s in Chester and got a new bed!”

“That’s her again. Got her hand in everythin’. Bounty vouchers, property, loans and rest of it. I heard tell she made a fortune, sellin’ the land she’d bought to the railway company, so that they could bring the train ter Neston. What do they say our Katie, money makes money? All I can say is that one day the mighty will fall and I hope I’ll still be here, ter see the day.”

“I can hear our Ernie, Mam, comin’ down the path. It’ll be time fer me ter get up te the hospital. I’ll call in the chemists in the mornin’ on me way back.”

Katie went to put her cloak on. She was so proud to be seen in her distinctive cloak and bonnet; folk always nodded and smiled as she passed them by. She had put her light brown wavy hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and glanced down at her large plump hands to check that there was no dirt under her fingernails. Matron was a stickler for cleanliness and Katie hadn’t realised what a slattern her mother was until she had been shown round the hospital near Neston Green.

“Hello there, Sis’. Not made yer Matron yet?”

“Get away with yer, our Ernie. I’m still waitin’ te hear if I’m ter become a staff nurse, never mind a Matron. But I’ll get there, I promise, one day.”

“I’m just hoping I’m never struck down with an illness, our Katie. The first thing yer’ll do if I come to yer place, is ter stick one of them tubes up me bum. Ter pay me back fer all the ragging yer’ve had off me.”

Katie smiled with affection at her brother. He had turned out to be a really special man. He used to be very withdrawn when his father was around, going off for days on end, never saying where he had been. Once Solly was buried, Ernie seemed to thrive on the responsibility of keeping hearth and home together, happy to take his father’s place as a farm hand and to look after his mother, when Katie wasn’t home. He was a fine-looking man, with kind eyes, a neat, thin nose and with a moustache and short beard that suited him. Katie couldn’t understand why none of the village girls had thrown their cap at him. Maybe there was a girl, but Ernie wouldn’t say. As for herself, she was not looking for a lifetime partner. She wanted to dedicate herself to caring for the sick for the rest of her days. She did not rule out a chance romance with a tall and handsome doctor, but for the moment she was satisfied. Doing things for other people brought its own rewards.

“Can yer help me off with these boots before yer go, Katie? Mother hasn’t got the strength in her fingers anymore. They’re that tight today. I’ve bin’ workin’ in six inches of water over Cock’s Hill. Farmer wants the field ploughin’ tomorrer, though I think we’ll all be sinkin’ in the mud. Oh, I must tell yer before yer go. Briggs is puttin’ up some of his land fer sale, Lower Rake Meadow, Claypool and Daisy Croft. Says he’s gettin’ on now and wants to have some money fer his retirement, especially as he has no sons to carry the farmin’ on. I think he’ll keep me, ‘cos I’m the youngest and fittest, but I think they’ll be building houses all along there soon.”

“Well, I think it’ll be good fer the village. There’s too many young couples havin’ to live with their parents. Yer only have ter look at our Annie and Sam,” Katie said.

“Yeah, and where would they get the money from to buy these fine new houses?” Ruthie, who had been listening, piped up from where she lay.

Katie laughed and replied to her mother.

“The Sheldon Loan Company?”

The proprietor of the Sheldon Loan Company was at that moment sitting in the place she called her office, in the smallest bedroom of Selwyn Lodge. It had been raining most of the day, so she had taken the opportunity to spend some time scrutinising her bank accounts.

She had chosen this room to work from, because of the panoramic views from the window, which overlooked the Dee estuary to her beloved Welsh hills, six miles away – not that she had ever travelled across the water to visit this wondrous place, as Maggie was a home bird and disliked being far away.

Her eyes were tired and she felt a certain lethargy. She had been feeling like this for a while now, ever since her good friend and companion, Miss Rosemary, had died early the year before. Nothing had seemed the same since then. No more sitting comfortably together in the evenings, sipping sherry before they had their meal, no more discussions on the businesses they owned or chuckling over a happening in their day. That was what their relationship was all about. Maggie and Betty, as she called Miss Rosemary, Maggie and Betty against the world. There had been a forty-year age gap between them, but they had been soul mates, caring for each other as good friends should. Now there was no one to fill that gap. She had her husband and there were the children, but they all got on with whatever interested them and only met up in the evenings for meals.

Jack, her husband, had become involved in the horse racing business. Mikey, her son, was the front man for the company they ran. Hannah, her stepdaughter, attended college in nearby Chester. It was a sort of finishing school for young ladies, but they learnt to do household accounts as well.

Maggie toyed with the silver ink well that Betty had given her one time as a present. Such a long time ago now – nearly twenty years. The dressmaker had been the only one in the village of Neston to give the raggedy Irish immigrant girl a chance. Without her, Maggie would never have risen to the status she was enjoying now. She would probably still be a farm labourer’s wife, giving birth to a child each year.

Poor Betty. The harsh winter had brought down the young and the elderly. Though Selwyn Lodge was quite a warm place, Betty would still insist on venturing out in her dog cart to play canasta with her elderly friends from the church. She had caught a chill and too weak to throw it off and she had died. Maggie had felt like a wounded animal; she had felt her friend’s death more than she had mourned when her own dear mother had gone. She still looked at the chair that Betty had sat in, expecting her to be sat in it, still thought she heard Betty’s tread on the stairway, still expected to greet her friend at breakfast each morning and still looked out into the garden to see if she was pottering there.

It had been the company that Maggie and Betty had started, that had kept her sane over that following year: that and the inheritance that her friend had left her. So much to sort through and so much to gain. Selwyn Lodge had been given to Maggie, with a request that it be loved as much as Betty had loved it. A thousand pounds from the good lady’s bank account and every thing that was Betty’s share, in all that they owned together. Thus, Maggie became the outright owner of the Sheldon Loan and Property Company. She couldn’t believe how her initial investment had grown.

At seventeen, she had entrusted Miss Rosemary with the secret contents of the feather mattress that she had brought with her from her old home. Little did she know that the mattress held her ex-employer’s Granddad Filbey’s savings, until she came across the money while stitching up a loosened seam. The dressmaker had started a small company for Maggie which had gone from strength to strength, giving her protégé’s money out as loans. Then she had merged it with her own rental interests and the Sheldon Loan and Property Company had been born.

“ Mrs. Haines,” Olive, her maid, knocked urgently on the door.

“Cook wants ter know if the Master will be in for supper. Do yer know if he’s coming back tonight?”

Maggie opened the door to her maid, glad of the interruption. Maybe she should go and wallow in a hot bath, then lay herself down for an hour.

“I think so, Olive, I didn’t ask him this morning. But he probably will be, he’s only gone to Chester today.”

The maid bobbed a curtsey and ran off down the stairs to the kitchen. She had only been working at Selwyn Lodge for a week or so and Maggie felt she had a lot to learn. Mary, the maid before Olive, had been a faithful servant from the start, but had gone back home to nurse her mother. Things had changed so much since Betty had died. She felt bereft now that her friend wasn’t there.

Maggie lay in her comforting bath and thought back to when her husband had made his reappearance. It had been a few years after she had said goodbye to Johnny, the sea-going son of her friend from Killala, who had marriage to her on his mind. He hadn’t known that her husband, Jack was still alive and living in America, so had set his sights on Maggie. The house, the businesses and easy living were what attracted him. Neither of them were sure that it was love they felt for each other.

Johnny only really loved his mother and when she had died, he had looked for a comfortable berth. Maggie was drawn to his handsome looks and became confused with his attention, thinking that perhaps one day she may fall in love. Throughout it all was Betty, the voice of Maggie’s conscience.

“You must tell him that you’re not free to marry. It isn’t fair for you to lead him on.”

So, the next time Johnny came back to Neston, Maggie had told him her story. How Jack had got a young woman into trouble and the pair had gone to America to start a new life. To save a scandal, she’d had to keep a secret – that his disappearance had been because of his untimely death.

Talk about a woman scorned! Johnny had exploded, angry that he had discharged himself from the shipping company, just to be with her! The next thing she knew, the tale was all round the village, spread by Johnny’s sister in law, Madeline. Of course that was the end of the relationship with Maddy, as Betty sacked her from her job as a designer at the dressmaker’s shop.

Sadly things started going down hill at “Anne Rosemary’s”. Nobody in the village wanted to associate with the two women, who they had been told were a pair of liars. The older woman must have become inveigled; look how she had taken the Irish one to live in that grand house of hers. But though it was heartbreaking for Betty to close her business down, they had the loan company to give them an income and no one knew that Maggie had a share.

Then one day Alice, Jack’s mother, received a letter. Since the story of Jack’s disappearance had got around the village, things hadn’t gone well between her and her daughter-in-law. Though Alice still went to St. Winefred’s Church on a Sunday and was involved in some of the activities there, she had quickly let it be known that they had been told Jack was dead by his landlady and they had only just found out that he was still alive! He had sent her a letter to say that all was well and he was living in America. That story seemed to satisfy her friends amongst the congregation, but Alice let rip at Maggie, saying that it was all her fault that this uproar had occurred. The relationship cooled, not that it bothered either of them as they didn’t have a lot of love for one another, until the day that the letter came to Seagull Cottage and everything began to change.

“I’ve had enough of the fighting game,” the scribe had written on Jack’s behalf. “I’ve made enough money to live comfortably, so I’ll be settling my affairs and be coming home.”

That had put the cat amongst the pigeons. Alice was overjoyed at her son’s homecoming, but Maggie was dreading her husband’s return.

“He’ll be able to move in with you all at the big house,” Alice had said. “Mikey will get his father back and you your husband as well. He’ll be able to take over that company you make such a fuss about. Change its name ter Haines!”

No mention of Hannah; surely Jack would be a father to her as well. And the thought of Jack interfering with the business gave Maggie palpitations. It was Betty’s company too! She walked round in dread for days on end, though Betty said there was nothing that Jack could do. The business had been started with Maggie’s own money. He had gone away hadn’t he, leaving her and Mikey to fend for themselves?

Maggie smiled to herself as she wrapped a towel around her body and then walked into the bedroom that the pair of them shared. Jack had been delighted with her good fortune, pleased as punch that she accepted him back again and spent all his waking moments showing her how much she was loved. She wished she could get rid of this listless feeling, because life at the moment should be very good. She had just received the statement from the bank, showing the amount lodged by the railway company for the land they had bought. With what she had in the account already, becoming a millionairess got nearer every day!