Twisted Strands (16 page)

‘That’s true. Since the only Reckitt left in the business died five years ago, the company has belonged entirely to our family.’ He glanced at Sophia and his smile broadened as
he addressed Eveleen. ‘That’s why, my dear, we want you to join the board of directors.’

‘Me?’ Eveleen was startled. ‘But – but I don’t know a thing about – about being a director. I’m – I’m . . .’ She smiled wryly.
‘I’m a worker, not a boss.’

‘You underestimate yourself, Eveleen. You have run that workroom and all the homeworkers most successfully. And you’ve already become involved with the factory side. So, what do you
say, my dear?’

‘Well . . .’ she said doubtfully and glanced at her mother-in-law. It was important to her that she had Sophia’s support.

‘We’ve discussed it at length – the two of us. And we talked it over with Richard last evening,’ Sophia said in her soft, modulated tones. She patted Eveleen’s
hand. ‘He, of course, was all for it.’

‘In that case, I can hardly refuse, but I haven’t the faintest idea what happens at a board meeting or what will be expected of me.’

Brinsley chuckled. ‘You’ll soon find out.’

Helen Binkley was angry. Very angry.

‘You had no right to disobey me,’ she said in a voice loud enough for half the workroom to hear her. ‘You deliberately took time off without my permission. In fact, I forbade
it.’

Red in the face, Bridie stood before her.

‘It was very unfair on everyone else. I suppose, because you are Mrs Stokes’s niece, you thought you could get away with it. Well, you can’t. I shall have to speak to her about
this. I have every right to dismiss you.’

Bridie raised her chin defiantly, her hands clenched by her sides. ‘It’d’ve made no difference. It had nothing to do with her being my aunt. I’d’ve gone
anyway.’

‘Well!’ Helen was robbed of coherent speech. ‘I’ve never heard the like.’

‘Now, now.’ Mrs Hyde had heaved herself up from her chair and was coming towards them. ‘Don’t be too hard on the lass, Helen.’

Few people now called Helen by her Christian name since her promotion to supervisor in the inspection room, but Mrs Hyde had worked there far longer than Helen had.

‘She’s only young and she wanted to see her family off. You can’t blame her for that, when all’s done and said.’ Then the woman added bluntly, ‘None of us
know who’s going to come back.’

There was a ripple around the room and the colour drained from Helen’s face. ‘You don’t need to remind us, Mrs Hyde,’ she said stiffly, her voice breaking. ‘But
there are several here who would dearly have loved to have been on the station platform today. Including me,’ she ended bitterly.

‘Aye well,’ Mrs Hyde’s tone was gentler. ‘You’re right there.’ She turned to look down at Bridie. ‘You were wrong to disobey Miss Binkley. But me and
the others,’ she gestured with a nod of her head towards the other women in the room, ‘aren’t going to hold it against you.’ Then she added firmly, ‘Not this time.
From now on, you be a good lass and do what Miss Binkley says, eh?’

Bridie nodded and looked at Helen, who seemed to be struggling inwardly. At last she said, ‘You’re a very lucky girl to have such kind friends to stick up for you. Now, go and sit
down and we’ll say no more about it.’

But Bridie was determined to have the last word. ‘I’m sorry I disobeyed you, but I’m not sorry I went to the station to see them off. There was only Mr and Mrs Stokes to see
Uncle Richard off. And Andrew had no-one else but me.’

Helen stared at her in amazement. ‘Whatever do you mean? Surely Eveleen was there?’

Bridie shook her head. ‘No. She came, but she got there just too late. The train had gone.’

She turned away, leaving a shocked Helen gazing after her.

Eveleen was beside herself with remorse. She even thought of taking the next train and trying to follow Richard. She knew they were going to Newark, but where after that she
had no idea. With a stab of guilt, she realized that she had not listened. She might never see him again and she had not even said a last goodbye. Her heart beat rapidly with fear each time she
thought about it – he might never come back. She had been so resentful against him for volunteering in the first place, and then wrapped up in the problems at the factory, that she had let
him go without a loving word. Even the memory of their love-making on that last morning was now spoilt because she had not said a proper farewell.

On her way to see her confidante and friend Win Martin, Eveleen walked along the street, her head held high, her back straight, determined that no-one should see the ache in her heart. She was
dressed in a navy costume with a long, hobble skirt, with three buttons hiding a discreet slit to allow easier walking. The tunic-style coat was knee length with a broad waistband and a velvet
collar. The feather in the small matching hat rippled in the breeze as she walked. Beneath it Eveleen’s wild, unruly hair had been tamed into fashionable curls and waves, swept up into a
chignon at the back of her head. Her outward appearance was that of a confident, fashionable woman of the town, but beneath lay insecurity and a terrible dread.

As she turned into Foundry Yard, the sight of the terraced house where she and her family had once lived brought the memories flooding back and she was again reminded of her brother. Only days
earlier she had seen in the newspaper that the enemy were now laying mines indiscriminately in the North Sea, so that not only British warships fell victim but innocent fishing vessels and neutral
ships too. Jimmy was in as much danger as the soldiers at the Front.

As she passed down the street to knock on Win’s door, she knew that many of the women scrubbing their doorsteps, shaking their mats or returning from the market with heavy shopping were
hiding the same anxieties she harboured.

Win answered the door quickly, flinging it open. ‘Oh, Evie, it’s you.’ For the first time that Eveleen could remember, there was no welcoming smile on Win’s face, even
though she gestured for Eveleen to step inside.

‘What is it, Win? What’s wrong?’ she asked at once. ‘Because I can see there’s something.’

Win pulled a face. ‘It’s our Elsie’s husband. He’s only gone and volunteered. Leaving our Elsie just as she’s had the bairn, an’ all.’

Eveleen groaned. ‘Oh no! When did that happen?’

‘He went same day as your man. Silly bugger went to a recruiting rally somewhere a couple of weeks ago and lots of the young fellers got swept up in all the patriotic nonsense.’ She
sniffed and added wryly, ‘And some of the not-so-young fellers, an’ all. One of ’em being our Elsie’s Sid.’ The fact that Win had resorted to swearing bore testament
to the depth of her feelings.

‘Win, I’m so sorry. What about your own sons?’ Eveleen had hoped to confide in Win about her own guilt at missing waving goodbye to Richard, but Win had far deeper worries of
her own. Now was not the time. The woman lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. ‘They haven’t gone yet, but I reckon they will. It’s spreading like wildfire amongst the young
fellers. If you don’t go, you’re thought to be a coward. And if conscription comes in . . .’ She left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air.

Win and Fred Martin’s family were all grown up now, but as Win always said, ‘They never stop being your bairns, do they?’ And now she had sons-in-law to worry about too.

‘What’s going to happen, Win?’ Eveleen whispered fearfully. ‘How will it all end?’

But for once the woman who had helped Eveleen so much, who had always seemed to the younger woman to be a rock of common sense and optimism, could offer no word of comfort.

‘That girl you’ve put with Jake, he’s tearing his hair out. She’s useless,’ Bob Porter greeted her one morning.

‘What? Oh, yes, right. I’ll go and see.’

She found the girl, Gladys, in tears and Jake shaking his fist at her.

‘What on earth is going on?’

‘Just get ’er out of here, missis,’ Jake roared above the clatter. ‘She’s forever tekin’ the day off and when she is here, she’s bloody
useless.’

‘Jake, please come to the office at the end of your shift and we’ll sort it out then. We can’t talk here,’ Eveleen suggested, trying to keep her voice calm and her temper
in check. ‘Gladys, you’d better come with me now. You’re in no fit state to work anyway.’

‘That’s bloody women for you,’ Jake said, casting a vitriolic glance at the weeping girl. ‘Turn the water taps on to get ’emselves out of trouble.’

Eveleen glared at him but said no more – for the moment. She would have plenty to say later, she thought grimly, as she put her arm about the girl’s waist and led her away.

‘Now,’ Eveleen said, in the relative quiet of a room along the passage, well away from the machine shop and from Bob Porter’s office. Eveleen had turned this into her office at
the factory. ‘Tell me your side.’

‘I’ve been trying me best, ma’am, but he’s that impatient.’

‘Would you rather be put on another job?’

The girl nodded tearfully. ‘I thought I liked machines. Y’know, they’ve always fascinated me.’

Eveleen nodded. She shared the same enthusiasm for machinery. But there, it seemed, the similarity between herself and Gladys ended. Whilst Eveleen had been a quick and deft learner, Gladys was
not. ‘But I just can’t get the hang of the bobbin winding, missis, and the minute he starts shouting an’ swearing at me . . .’ The girl dissolved into easy tears once
more.

Eveleen was thoughtful, staring at the girl yet not seeing her. An idea was forming in her mind. Gladys’s performance in the machine shop had done the cause of bringing women into the
factory no service at all. Sadly the girl had just proved right the men who were against the idea.

Now, Eveleen was thinking, if a woman were able to prove herself capable as an auxiliary worker, then perhaps the men’s attitude would change.

‘Don’t worry any more, Gladys,’ Eveleen said, ‘I’ll find work for you in the inspection room. See me in the morning. I’ll have worked something out by
then.’

‘Oh, thank you, ma’am. Thank you very much.’ Gladys stood up. ‘I – I am sorry I’ve failed you, ma’am. I did so want to help with the war effort . .
.’ Her voice trailed away.

Eveleen stood up, more energy in her movement than there had been since Richard had left. ‘You will be, Gladys, so think no more about it. Whatever job anyone does in these difficult times
is helping indirectly, even if it doesn’t feel like it.’

The girl smiled thinly, obviously wanting to believe what Eveleen said.

‘Run along home now.’ She patted the girl on the shoulder and walked with her to the factory entrance. There they parted and Eveleen, a spring in her step, ran up the stairs leading
to the top floor of the warehouse.

‘Do you know, Helen,’ she greeted her friend, ‘I’ve just had the most marvellous idea. Now, can you keep a secret?’

Jake presented himself at her office a few minutes after the end of his shift. Bob Porter was with him.

‘Come in and sit down.’ Eveleen smiled, hardly able to keep her face straight. The more she thought about her plan, the better she liked it, but she had no intention of telling
either of the two men sitting opposite her.

‘Now, Jake, Gladys herself has admitted that she cannot do the work, so I have found a place for her in the inspection room and I have also got a replacement for her with you.’

Jake groaned. ‘I don’t want another like her, missis. I’m sorry I offered to take one now.’

‘I’d have thought you’d have learnt your lesson, Mrs Stokes, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so,’ Bob Porter said.

Eveleen smiled. Hugging her secret to her, she was able to answer them serenely. ‘As it happens, Bob, I do mind. Not all the girls and women we try out in the machine shop are going to be
satisfactory. I know that. But that doesn’t mean to say that none of them can do the work. I am sure there are plenty of girls who are capable of becoming skilled workers. It’s just a
case of finding them.’

‘Well, that’s where we don’t agree, ma’am. I don’t reckon there’s a female that’s capable. I know they’re only going to do the sort of labouring
jobs, but even so they have to be quick and handy at it. The twisthands will rely on them. But if you reckon you can find one, Mrs Stokes,’ he hooked his thumbs through his braces and rocked
on his heels, ‘then you can prove me wrong.’ Eveleen merely smiled and said nothing, but inside she was thinking: Oh, I’ll prove you wrong, Bob Porter. You just wait and see.

After dinner that evening Bridie followed her aunt to Richard’s study and stood in the doorway. ‘Auntie Evie, Andrew asked me to tell you something. When they were
leaving, he sent you a message. He said he’d asked you to go to Flawford to see the old folks. He’s worried how they’re going to manage without him.’

Eveleen was rifling through papers on the desk and made no reply.

‘Auntie Evie, did you hear what I said?’

‘Yes, dear,’ Eveleen said absently. ‘We’ll go soon. One Sunday, perhaps. Now.’ She shuffled the papers together, turned from the desk and held out her hand.
‘I want you to come upstairs with me. I have something to show you.’

‘What is it?’ Bridie was intrigued in spite of herself. Eveleen’s eyes were gleaming.

‘You’ll see. And I can’t wait to see Bob Porter’s face in the morning.’

At the start of the early morning shift the following day, Eveleen walked down the aisle between the machines. She was dressed in a coat-like overall, buttoned at the front,
with a wide belt. A frilled cap covered her hair and she wore no jewellery except her wedding ring.

She arrived by Jake’s machine and waited for him to turn and see her. She did not step into the twisthand’s alley, the space that ran along in front of his machine. This was his
domain and even Brinsley Stokes himself would not dream of going into the area until he had a nod from the man in charge of the machine.

Eveleen stood a moment, fascinated as always by the rhythmic motion of wheels and cogs, levers and bars, all working in harmony to twist thousands of fine threads into intricate and delicate
patterns. She marvelled again as the finished length of lace came clanking slowly out of the machine.