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

Margie’s sullen resistance to crumble. ‘What if there is? And what if there’s nothing I can do about it and I just have to let Dorothy get on with it? I’m not going to sit there and watch it happen, am I?’
    â€˜Sit where?’
    â€˜With the other wallflowers at the Assembly Rooms, watching her steal him from under my nose.’
    â€˜Steal who?’ Lily wanted to know.
    â€˜What’s it matter who? You’ve wormed enough out of me already.’ Flinging herself down on the bed, Margie lay with her back to Lily.
    Lily stood up. What could she do to help Margie snap out of this? she wondered. She quickly decided flattery was her best tactic. ‘So this young man, whoever he is, either he needs a good pair of glasses or he should have his head examined.’
    â€˜Why’s that?’
    â€˜Because you’re worth two of Dorothy Brumfitt any day.’
    â€˜You’re only saying that because you’re my sister.’ Up came the blanket over Margie’s head, making her voice sound muffled.
    â€˜I’m saying it because it’s true. And the best thing you can do is stop sulking, get dolled up and get yourself down to the dance hall to prove it once and for all.’
    â€˜I can’t,’ Margie said.
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜Because.’
    Swift footsteps on the stairs told Lily that Evie was on her way up. ‘And that’s all it is?’ she checked with Margie, whose gloom seemed settled and deep. ‘Just a silly fight over a boy?’
    â€˜Father’s back with Uncle George and Tommy,’ Evie warned, bursting into the room with Arthur in tow.
    Meanwhile, there was only silence from Margie.
    Sensing a confrontation, Evie and Arthur made themselves scarce while Lily went downstairs to find Rhoda back home and doggedly preparing a meal from the leftover hotpot, adding potatoes and onions to what remained of the stew. She kept her back turned as Walter took off his jacket at the cellar head and invited his brother and nephew to sit at the table. The small room seemed full of their beery, sneering presence.
    â€˜Where’ve you been?’ Walter asked Rhoda accusingly.
    She flinched but managed not to retaliate. ‘To Myra Lister’s, to help with the new baby. Then over on to Raglan Road to Doris Fuller to treat her bronchitis. I sat with her while her boy William went off for mustard plasters.’
    Lily came downstairs in time to hear her father’s churlish retort.
    â€˜Aye and trust you to put everybody else’s family before your own as per usual.’ He held on to the back of a chair for balance and his words were slow and slurred. ‘You got paid for your trouble, did you?’
    â€˜Not yet. They’ll pay me as soon as they find the money.’
    Walter turned to his brother. ‘You see what I have to put up with – a missis who’s never here when you need her. You’re better off without one, George, that’s all I can say.’
    Rhoda finished adding the vegetables, put the lid on the heavy pot then tried to lift it from the table into the oven. Lily saw her wince at its weight and rushed to help.
    â€˜Let me,’ she offered, heartily wishing to see the back of George and Tommy. With them here, her father always seemed twice as bad, if that were possible. ‘Haven’t you got a home to go to?’ she muttered to her cousin. It was a barbed question since Lily knew full well that her cousin, despite his Brylcreemed hair and smart Harris Tweed jacket, still lived with his father in a damp, cramped basement on Canal Road.
    â€˜No, Miss Hoity Toity, nor a job to go to, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Tommy jeered.
    â€˜Oh aye,’ George remarked, settling himself in the fireside chair and stretching out his legs. ‘I forgot – Lily turns her nose up at us ever since she went up into the mending room. But not for long, I reckon, not the way