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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Historical, #Romance, #20th Century, #General

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BOOK: Tangled Threads
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Already she had become a willing apprentice to Luke and had earned praise from him. ‘Well, you’ve turned out better than I expected, lad. See what you can do when you put your mind
to it?’

Eveleen had hidden her smile.

Now, she answered her mother. ‘I don’t think Jimmy’d been there long enough for anyone to really get to know him.’

‘If you get caught, you’ll be out.’

‘Yes, Mam. I know that, but for the moment, it’s a risk worth taking.’

‘But you can’t be a boy for ever, Eveleen,’ Rebecca said softly. ‘I mean you might meet someone nice and want to get married.’ Her voice trailed away. Her future
hopes and dreams were in tatters, but it didn’t stop the young girl having romantic notions for someone else.

‘That’s the least of my worries,’ Eveleen said with feeling.

Josh Carpenter rarely came to the machine room. Although he was in overall charge of the factory and answerable only to Mr Stokes, the day-to-day running of the machine shop
was Mr Porter’s domain. Eveleen had thought herself safe from having to speak to Josh and the only times when she feared she might encounter him were when she arrived and left each day.

So it was a surprise one morning to glance up and see him standing near by. She gave him a brief nod – as Jimmy would have done – and concentrated on her work, but her fingers were
trembling. Had she been discovered? Had Josh realized just who she really was?

Josh watched her working for a few moments, then leaned towards her and shouted above the clatter. ‘I don’t want to stop you working, but come to my office when you knock off, will
you?’

Eveleen nodded. Her heart sank and she sighed inwardly. Only just over a week in the job and she had been found out. She doubted she would be even allowed to go back to her job in the workroom
with the other women. No one in the management or workforce would take kindly to her deception.

Later that day, as she stepped nervously into his office and stood facing him, she remembered to keep up the act. She stood facing him with her hands in her pockets, a resentful expression on
her face. It was how Jimmy would have acted at being delayed from escaping from the place.

‘Have you heard from your sister? Is she all right? When is she coming back?’ Josh, far from being the imposing figure Eveleen had once thought him, now looked rather vulnerable.

‘She’s fine,’ Eveleen said truthfully, but then the lies had to start and did not come so easily to her lips. ‘But Gran’s still ill. We don’t know when
she’s coming back.’

Disappointment etched lines into the florid face. ‘Oh.’ He gave a great sigh that seemed to come from deep inside his huge frame. ‘Do you go to see her on a Sunday?’

Jimmy would certainly not have made any such effort, so Eveleen shrugged and said evasively, ‘I might.’

‘If you do, give her my regards. Her job’s still here for her.’

‘Righto,’ Eveleen said and left the office whistling through her teeth. She had been practising on the way home each night and now had Jimmy’s whistle almost perfect. But once
outside the factory gates, she ceased her merry tune. She didn’t feel in the least merry tonight, even though she was relieved that the reason Josh had wanted to see her had not been what she
had feared.

She had mixed feelings about Josh’s obvious interest in her as Eveleen. She wasn’t sure whether she was completely comfortable about it. Surely a man of his age – he was old
enough to be her father – could not be interested in her romantically? Surely he couldn’t imagine . . . In a world where his position isolated him anyway and where his size made him a
figure of fun for cruel, unthinking people, she had been nice to him, polite to him. Like a flower thirsting for water, he had soaked up her kindness.

I could write to him, she thought. I could write and thank him for getting us the Griswold and for his kind messages. Then ‘Jimmy’ could bring it into him next Monday morning as if
he had seen me on the Sunday.

She felt so sorry for the man. Surely that couldn’t do any harm. Besides, Eveleen wasn’t even here, at least, not that he knew.

So, after chapel on the Sunday evening, Eveleen sat down to compose her letter. It had been at Rebecca’s surprising insistence that they still attended Chapel.

‘It’s so much a part of my life,’ she had said simply. ‘I have to go. I
need
to go.’ So Eveleen had gone along with her and had found some solace for herself
in the services conducted by a young preacher who was far less fiery than the minister in Ranters’ Row.

Now, as she sat down to write, Eveleen thought, At least I don’t have to pretend for a few moments. At least I am writing this as myself.

Dear Mr Carpenter
, she wrote.
Jimmy tells me that you have been asking most kindly after me, for which I thank you.
She hesitated to write anything about her Gran. Suddenly, she
felt overcome with a strong sense of superstition. What if by acting out her grandmother’s illness, she made it become a reality? Was she tempting Fate? Then Eveleen shook herself and put
such fanciful notions out of her head.
I can’t say when I’ll be back so if you have to let my job go, I shall understand.
As the days passed, Eveleen was increasingly sure that
Jimmy would not come home. And she wanted to try to be as fair as she could to Mr Carpenter. She was deceiving him enough already, her guilty conscience reminded her.

I also want to thank you so much
, she went on,
for getting us the stocking-machine. I hear that Mr Martin has finished repairing it and Rebecca is thrilled. She is making stockings
faster than we can find people to buy them. With many thanks, yours sincerely, Eveleen Hardcastle.

She read the letter through three times before she was satisfied that she had not made any glaring mistakes.

She folded the paper into four and wrote on the outside
Mr Carpenter – Personal
and then laid it on the table for ‘Jimmy’ to deliver the following morning.

 
Thirty-Nine

It was not Josh Carpenter who caused Eveleen any awkward moments the following day, but Richard Stokes.

Brinsley Stokes and his son, making their daily rounds through the factory, passed close to where Eveleen was working. Glancing up she saw them approaching and, fascinated to see the man who had
once been her mother’s lover close to, she stared at Mr Stokes senior. He did not appear to notice her scrutiny, but the son paused by her machine, a slight frown of puzzlement creasing his
forehead. So intent had been her concentration upon the father that when Richard spoke to her she jumped.

‘You’re new here, aren’t you? How long have you been here?’

‘Couple of weeks, mister,’ she said in the offhand way her brother would have answered.

The young man was still frowning. Close to, he was even handsomer than she had thought him the day she had seen him in the women’s workroom. His hair was like jet, smooth and shining. His
skin was dark, his jawline was strong and clearly defined. His thick black eyebrows were a gentle arch, but it was his dark brown eyes, so like her own, that caught and held her attention. He
smiled at her now and the tanned skin around his eyes wrinkled endearingly with laughter lines.

‘You seem familiar,’ he murmured. ‘Have I seen you before?’

Eveleen’s heart was in her mouth. He knew her. He recognized her from the workroom and now she was about to be unmasked.

She manufactured a shrug. ‘Dunno,’ she muttered. ‘You might have.’ Then, a little belligerently, she added, ‘I’ve been stood here for the past two weeks at
this machine and you come every day.’

‘Mm,’ he said, seeming to accept her reasoning, but his thoughtful gaze was still upon her. ‘Possibly.’ His frown deepened. ‘But there’s something about you.
You look . . .’ Then he appeared to shake himself and laughed. ‘I must be imagining it. For a moment, I thought . . .’ He laughed again and added, ‘Oh well, never mind what
I thought.’

As he moved away, Eveleen’s heart was hammering so loudly inside her chest she thought that he must hear it even above the noise of the machinery around them. She could easily guess what
had been in his mind. He thought that the young lad standing at the lace-making machine was remarkably like a girl he had seen in the women’s workroom.

Well, I am, Eveleen reminded herself. I mean, I am even if it really was Jimmy standing here. But somehow she had the uncomfortable feeling that Richard Stokes had seen something more than just
the likeness that had always been between the brother and sister. He had looked so deeply into her eyes that the depths of her soul had trembled.

He was very good-looking.
Nice
looking, she thought, not just handsome. He’s got kind eyes – warm brown eyes, not cold blue ones. Then she reminded herself sharply that she
had better concentrate on her work. She didn’t want to slip back into Jimmy’s ways and lose Luke’s respect. It had been hard enough to earn after Jimmy’s careless start. One
more mistake and she could be out of a job.

Besides, she reminded herself fiercely, she wanted nothing to do with handsome young men. But the girl inside the boy’s outward appearance was startled by the sudden stab of disappointment
she felt that Richard Stokes could no longer see her as a woman.

He came again the following day and the day after that. And always he paused beside her workplace, allowing his father to move ahead out of earshot while he spoke to her.

On the third day, he was smiling broadly as he approached her.

‘Now I know why I thought you seemed familiar,’ he said at once. ‘Mr Carpenter has just been telling me about your sister in the workroom. I saw her in there a week or two
back.’ He winked conspiratorially and leaned closer. ‘Such a pretty girl. Marvellous hair.’

Eveleen tried to adopt the expression that she knew would have been on Jimmy’s face. A slightly sneering, disbelieving look. Never in a million years would Jimmy have acknowledged that his
sister was remotely nice-looking, never mind pretty!

Eveleen shrugged and said gruffly, ‘She’s all right, I suppose. Got a temper on her, though.’

‘Mm.’ Richard was looking keenly at her. Even now Eveleen had the uncomfortable feeling that somehow he was disbelieving the evidence in front of his eyes. ‘Well, perhaps she
has reason,’ he said in softer tones, so that, above the noise, Eveleen did not hear his words. Working in the machine shop, however, she was fast becoming adept at lip-reading and so guessed
what he had said. In reply, she gave the nonchalant laugh of her brother.

Richard was leaning closer again. ‘When you see her, give her my best wishes and tell her I hope your grandmother will soon be well enough for her to return to us.’ He nodded,
stepped back and then moved away, walking down the aisle between the rows of machines with an easy grace.

Despite her vow to have nothing to do with handsome young men and the impulsive and dramatic change in her persona, Eveleen began to look forward to Richard’s visits to
the factory each day. He would smile and nod to her though he would not always stop to speak. Often Eveleen was too busy to pause in her work, but she was always very aware of his nearness.

Against her will, she began to watch the doorway for his arrival, and more than once was reprimanded by Luke for inattention.

‘You’re slipping back into your bad ways,’ he grumbled. ‘I’ll have to tell Bob Porter about you if you don’t buck your ideas up. I’ve my own job to
think about, y’know.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Eveleen said, uncharacteristically as Jimmy. Luke cast a sideways glance at her and Eveleen could have kicked herself, not only for her inattention at her work but
for allowing herself to think about Richard Stokes.

For the remainder of that week she refused to glance at him when he paused at the end of the long machine.

But always, even without looking up, she was acutely conscious of his presence.

A week later it was Richard who caused her to make her most disastrous mistake yet – even by Jimmy’s standards. It was ironic that she had been so intent upon her
work that she had not seen him enter the machine shop and was unaware of him until she felt him touch her shoulder.

She jumped physically and, to her chagrin, gave a girlish gasp. But Richard was smiling and mouthing the words, ‘How’s your sister? Any news?’

Eveleen shook her head and Richard shrugged, raised his hand in acknowledgement and moved away.

Her gaze followed him.

Suddenly she felt a clout across the back of her head that sent her reeling and she fell to her knees in the aisle between the rows of machines.

Luke was standing over her, his face purple with rage and roaring at the top of his voice above the noise.

‘Look what you’ve done.’

Eveleen scrambled up. To her horror a thread had broken and she had failed to notice it. Now a flaw was running the length of the fabric.

‘That’s it, I’ve had enough of you. I’m telling Bob Porter to fire you. I thought you’d mended your ways, but the first few days you were here I had my doubts about
you. Seems I was right all along.’

Eveleen felt her face grow crimson as Luke’s tirade continued. There was nothing she could do to prevent the girlish blush.

‘You’ve had enough chances now,’ the man went on waving his fist in her face. ‘You’re out.’

‘Hold on a minute,’ a voice spoke behind them and they both turned to see Josh Carpenter standing there, a letter in his hand. ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s this young lad. He’s useless.’

‘But you told me only last Friday that he was shaping up much better.’ Josh glanced worriedly from one to the other. ‘My office when your shift ends – both of
you.’

He turned away, still carrying the letter, which, Eveleen was sure, had been another addressed to her.

She turned to Luke unable to stop tears glimmering in her eyes. ‘I’ll put it right, I promise.’

‘Pigs might fly,’ he grunted. ‘Well, I’m not letting my work go to the inspection room like that. They’ll likely try to get my pay docked.’

‘I’ll mend it. I—’

Luke shot her a strange glance. ‘That’s women’s work. Know someone who’ll do it for you, do you?’

BOOK: Tangled Threads
10.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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