The Mill Girls of Albion Lane by Jenny Holmes Read Free Book Online Page B

gone out of him for good.’
    Despite all this, Walter did try for work in the mills but his experience in the trenches had weakened him in body and spirit and made him bitter. Besides, after the drop-off in government orders for army uniforms, the Yorkshire woollen mills suffered, so he failed to find a steady job and the growing Briggs family had to fall back on Public Assistance while Rhoda brought up the children and made herself useful in the neighbourhood.
    For a start, she became expert in herbal remedies – caraway seeds soaked in hot water and sprinkled with sugar for baby colic, liquorice powder for constipation at any age, mustard plasters for bronchitis. More and more of the women in Albion Lane and on Raglan Road turned to her for advice and eventually for help when their babies came. Rhoda was considered reliable and unflappable, unlike her husband who was usually to be found propping up the bar at the Cross.
    Now, late on this cold and gloomy Saturday night, Rhoda made the unaccustomed move of sharing her thoughts with Lily. ‘The way things are going with Margie, I can’t see her keeping the job at Kingsley’s much longer, not if she starts falling out with the girls who work alongside her and causing a bad atmosphere in the spinning shed. The overlookers won’t stand for that.’
    â€˜She only fell out with one,’ Lily pointed out as she kicked off her shoes to warm her feet at what was left of the fire. ‘And that was Dorothy Brumfitt, who nobody likes. From what I hear, she’s a troublemaker.’
    â€˜Watch you don’t give yourself chilblains,’ Rhoda warned before staring into the fire and saying nothing for a while. ‘So if they get rid of anyone, you think it’ll be Dorothy?’ she asked at last, seeming to take comfort from Lily’s view of events. Then she changed tack. ‘As for her goings-on with boys and the like, it might help if you told her it’s her job to set an example to Evie.’
    â€˜Yes, that’s a good idea,’ Lily agreed. Sitting this close to her mother she noticed again the shadows and lines on her face and the raised veins on the backs of her hands. ‘I wish you wouldn’t worry and run around after us all the time,’ she told her softly.
    â€˜And if I don’t worry and run around, pray tell who will?’ was Rhoda’s stubborn response.
    â€˜I will,’ Lily promised. ‘I can do more of the ironing of a night, when I get back from work. And you don’t need to do all the washing on a Monday. I could do some for you on a Sunday.’
    â€˜And what would people think of me hanging my washing out on the Lord’s day?’ Rhoda shook her head.
    Lily gave a little, self-mocking laugh. ‘Here I am, offering to help. I thought you’d bite my hand off.’
    â€˜No, you know me better than that. I’ll carry on until I drop – that’s all I know.’ Taking a grey cardigan from the back of the chair, Rhoda wrapped it around her thin shoulders. ‘If you really want to help …’ she added as Lily bent to pick up her shoes and head off.
    â€˜Yes, Mother, what is it?’
    â€˜You can keep a closer eye on Margie from now on, see she stays on the right track.’
    â€˜I will,’ Lily promised, making her way upstairs at last.
    â€˜Good luck, Evie! Good luck, Lily!’ At a quarter past seven on Monday morning Arthur stayed at the window to wave his sisters off to work. His piping voice followed them down the steps on to the street and his pale, peaky face was pressed against the glass.
    It was scarcely daylight when they set off and the morning was frosty and crisp for once rather than sodden and dank. Evie had on a crimson beret and matching woollen shawl and carried her new work pinafore rolled and tucked under her arm, while Lily had dressed up for her new job in the grey coat and hat she’d worn on Saturday