The Dressmaker’s Daughter. Nancy Carson

had a day for cleaning the bedrooms and scrubbing the stairs, for polishing the best furniture and the linoleum in the front room, for cleaning the windows and the front door step. On Wednesdays, the fire wasn’t lit till late because that was the day the grate was blackleaded. To her credit, May still called round and did the job for her on her Wednesday afternoon off, assisted by Lizzie of late.

      Eve was feeling her years and, though she was by no means old, all this housework was getting harder. The joints in her hands were becoming lumpy; when she walked any distance her legs ached, and she found herself out of breath doing tasks she would have found easy just a year or two ago. Because of a persistent thirst, she was drinking noticeably more water than she used to and visiting the privy umpteen times a day in consequence. Once or twice, too, she found herself wobbly at the knees well before mealtimes. She put it down to hunger, since eating seemed always to alleviate it.

      While Eve felt she was withering, she only had to look at Lizzie to see that she was blooming. She said nothing, but regretted that Lizzie should reach this state of optimum physical womanhood when she was in no position to make the most of it, for the finest looks faded over the years. The girl needed good, fashionable clothes to show herself off to best advantage; to enhance her self-esteem; as did every young woman. But financial constraints precluded it. Her other daughters, Maude and Lucy, had blossomed when the family was comparatively well off; when Isaac was earning good money and Ted and Grenville were bringing home a wage.

      Yet the lack of money never stopped Lizzie looking her best. Although many of her clothes were old, they were always spotlessly clean and immaculately ironed. Eve made some admirable creations from old garments, and Lizzie took pleasure in wearing them. She only wished that she, too, had a similar talent, rather than none at all.

      Eve silently worried about Lizzie. The girl was sensitive and easily hurt, and she wanted so much for her to meet the right man; not necessarily a rich man, but a kind and loving one. If he turned out to be comfortably off as well, then so much the better. But no Jack-the-lad who fancied his chances with other women, like Isaac. A decent, honest, ordinary sort of chap who was prepared to do an honest day’s work would do nicely, so long as he would cherish Lizzie. As yet, though, there was no sign of any young man in her life; but she was young yet. Oh, Lizzie was sweet on Stanley Dando and no two ways, but his joining the army had thwarted that.

      Eve could also see that her youngest daughter was not without admirers. She was most aware of it when they walked to church on a Sunday evening in summer. Not only men’s heads would turn but women’s, too, and Eve would feel so proud. There were one or two eligible young men at church every week who went out of their way to speak to Lizzie, but they must surely be tongue-tied or over-awed when it came to asking her out.

      Not least of the admirers, Eve could see, was Jesse Clancey. Even though he was courting Sylvia Dando he still had eyes for Lizzie. But Eve did not wish to encourage that. She did not wish to encourage it at all. It would not do for Lizzie to get mixed up with him. It would not do for Lizzie to be upset by Ezme’s evil tongue. Not at any price. Sylvia Dando was fine for Jesse. Perfect, in fact. She hoped they would stay together and get married.

      *

      It was in September that Lizzie renewed her friendship with Daisy Foster, the girl she used to work with when she first left school. They met again when Lizzie went out with May and Joe one sunny, Sunday afternoon to hear the Cradley Heath Prize Band playing in Buffery Park. Seats had been specially laid out around the bandstand and they were early enough to find three together near the front. At the interval, Lizzie stood up to stretch her legs and smooth the creases out of her best skirt, when, on the opposite side, facing her, she espied Daisy with another girl and two lads, aged about nineteen. She went across to say hello.

      ‘You look ever so well, Daisy.’

      Daisy was slender and nicely dressed in a loose-fitting green dress and a wide, straw hat adorned with flowers. Her ready smile was marred only by two slightly crossed teeth, which somehow seemed more noticeable now, but which didn’t detract from her prettiness; rather they were the imperfection that added to it.

      ‘And so do you, Lizzie. You look lovely.’

      ‘It’s been ages.’

      ‘I know. We should get together and have a rattle. Are you working in Dudley now?’

      ‘At Theedhams.’

      ‘Theedhams? Fancy. And I only work in the Market Place. Why don’t you meet me one dinnertime?’

      ‘How about Wednesday? I have Wednesday afternoons off.’

      ‘That’s my afternoon off as well. I could meet you at the Midland Café, if you like.’

      Lizzie smiled, a broad smile of pleasure at re-establishing contact with her old friend. ‘Yes. About ten past one? I couldn’t get there before then.’

      ‘I’ll keep us a table.’

      Meanwhile, the lads occupied themselves in conversation with the other girl, though Lizzie couldn’t help noticing one of them. He was wickedly handsome, with sparkling blue eyes and almost black hair that was immaculately trimmed. And he kept looking up at her, trying to catch her eye with an interested smile when the other girl wasn’t aware.

      On the appointed day, the two girls turned up for their reunion under umbrellas, for the weather had turned. A steady drizzle all morning had been drenching everything. Market stall holders were packing away, loading their carts with unsold merchandise ready for the next day; for there would be few, if any, customers this dreary afternoon.

      When Lizzie and Daisy had let down their brollies and shook them they entered the café and took a vacant table in the window. They ordered a pot of tea, with tongue and cucumber sandwiches.

      ‘It was such a shock to see you on Sunday,’ Lizzie said, beaming, tucking a strand of hair under her hat. ‘You were the last person in the world I expected to meet.’

      Daisy shuffled and leaned forward expectantly. ‘I know, but it was a lovely surprise. Did you say you’re working at Theedhams now?’

      Lizzie nodded.

      ‘I was in Theedham’s just last week. It’s a wonder I didn’t see you. It must’ve been your dinner time or somethin’. I work in the Public Benefit Boot shop. I left Chambers’s Saddlery ages ago. Pullin’ on the leather and stitchin’ and that played havoc with me hands, I couldn’t stand it. Then I found this job, and I like it. Besides, I get me shoes cheap.’

      ‘That’s handy.’

      ‘Oh, anytime you want some new shoes cheap come and see me, Lizzie.’

      ‘I’m desperate for some new shoes, Daisy. I’ll have to come and see you … Are you courting now, then?’

      ‘Oh, nothin’ serious.’ Self-consciously she wiped condensation from the window with one of her gloves.

      ‘Oh, I bet! Is it one of those chaps you were with on Sunday?’

      ‘Yes, the fair-haired one.’ Daisy peered through the patch she had cleared at passers-by trying to avoid stepping into puddles on the uneven pavement outside. ‘His name’s Jimmy Powell. I’ve been goin’ with him six months now. But it’s nothin’ serious, honest. He’s nice, but …’

      ‘Where’s he live?’

      ‘Tividale. That was his mate, Ben, who was with us. He’s a nice chap, an’ all.’

      ‘Mmm, I noticed him. He looked ever so nice, Daisy. I could’ve taken to him myself. He kept smiling at me, but I pretended not to notice.’

      The two girls laughed easily.

      Daisy said, ‘Fern – that’s his sweetheart – she noticed. She was ever so funny with him after you’d gone. I think she was jealous.’

      ‘Oops! But I did nothing to egg him on.’

      ‘You didn’t have to. Looking the way you did was enough. I thought you looked