Read Online Orphans of the Storm by Katie Flynn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie Flynn
Tags: Historical
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told her, hastily, that the auctioneers had been pestering him for a definite date, and asked when she thought this date should be.
‘Well, we don’t want to marry on Christmas Day . . . indeed, I don’t think it’s allowable . . . but Ken did suggest the twenty-seventh, the Tuesday after Christmas,’ Jess had said hopefully. ‘If everything could be completed by, say, the seventeenth, including the sale of the house itself, then it would give me time to get my wedding, and my future, sorted out.’
Mr Bellamy had agreed that this seemed reasonable and the very next day had telephoned her, from his office in Southport, to say that the sale of all goods and effects would take place on 15 December, which would leave the house empty. ‘Apparently, it’s easier to sell an empty house than one half full of old-fashioned furniture and carpets,’ he had said. ‘So if that date would suit you, Miss Williams . . .’ Jess had assured him that it would be fine and she and Gladys began to plan their futures.
Gladys had been lucky and had got a good job as cook/housekeeper to a small family of four living quite near the park. Mr Bellamy had given her an excellent reference, extolling her abilities as a cook and assuring her prospective employer that she was very honest and a hard worker. Jess, on the other hand, did not attempt to get another job since she and Ken had decided to see how they went on as a married couple. Ken’s wages should be adequate for most of their expenses – they had considered buying a property but in the end had decided against it. ‘If we decide to buy later, then it’s an easy matter to give a landlord a week’s notice and move out,’ Ken had said. ‘But we neither of us know a darned thing about property. We could easily splash out our gelt on a house and then discover the roof leaked like a sieve, or the drains smelt bad or the beams had worm, and then where would we be? No; I reckon we’ll leave owning property till we’ve had more experience.’
Jess had agreed, and after having viewed a number of rented properties they took a small terraced house in a side turning off Heyworth Street. It had a parlour and a kitchen and scullery on the ground floor. There was a large brass cold-water tap over the kitchen sink and another smaller one in the scullery. Upstairs, there were two decent-sized bedrooms, and up a further flight two tiny attic rooms. There was a back yard with a wood shed and a lavatory, and this last particularly pleased Jess since, when she had lived at home in a court off Vauxhall Road, there had been a communal lavatory which was shared by all ten houses, and a communal water tap from which the householders filled numerous buckets, morning and night. She had said nothing of this to Ken, knowing that his parents had been far more affluent than her own, but had simply agreed with him that the house would do very well for a start.
She had told Gladys, who was to be her bridesmaid, that it would be a quiet wedding. ‘Ken’s parents are dead and me mam’s as poor as a church mouse, so the cost is going to fall on us and we’ll have enough expense without adding a huge wedding,’ she had explained. ‘My very best friend, the person closer to me than a sister, lives in Australia and couldn’t possibly come home. But I’ve other friends, of course, girls I nursed with. I may invite some of them.’
And despite Jess’s fears that something would occur to ruin their plans, everything had gone forward smoothly. The sale of the household goods and personal effects had taken place on the date selected, and Gladys had moved into her new post, whilst Jess, laden with bulging bags, had taken up residence in a small lodging house. The weather had been cold and crisp and Jess was fully occupied with Christmas coming on. She had written a long letter to Nancy and had spent the rest of the time either helping her landlady with the preparations for Christmas, or cleaning their future
‘Well, we don’t want to marry on Christmas Day . . . indeed, I don’t think it’s allowable . . . but Ken did suggest the twenty-seventh, the Tuesday after Christmas,’ Jess had said hopefully. ‘If everything could be completed by, say, the seventeenth, including the sale of the house itself, then it would give me time to get my wedding, and my future, sorted out.’
Mr Bellamy had agreed that this seemed reasonable and the very next day had telephoned her, from his office in Southport, to say that the sale of all goods and effects would take place on 15 December, which would leave the house empty. ‘Apparently, it’s easier to sell an empty house than one half full of old-fashioned furniture and carpets,’ he had said. ‘So if that date would suit you, Miss Williams . . .’ Jess had assured him that it would be fine and she and Gladys began to plan their futures.
Gladys had been lucky and had got a good job as cook/housekeeper to a small family of four living quite near the park. Mr Bellamy had given her an excellent reference, extolling her abilities as a cook and assuring her prospective employer that she was very honest and a hard worker. Jess, on the other hand, did not attempt to get another job since she and Ken had decided to see how they went on as a married couple. Ken’s wages should be adequate for most of their expenses – they had considered buying a property but in the end had decided against it. ‘If we decide to buy later, then it’s an easy matter to give a landlord a week’s notice and move out,’ Ken had said. ‘But we neither of us know a darned thing about property. We could easily splash out our gelt on a house and then discover the roof leaked like a sieve, or the drains smelt bad or the beams had worm, and then where would we be? No; I reckon we’ll leave owning property till we’ve had more experience.’
Jess had agreed, and after having viewed a number of rented properties they took a small terraced house in a side turning off Heyworth Street. It had a parlour and a kitchen and scullery on the ground floor. There was a large brass cold-water tap over the kitchen sink and another smaller one in the scullery. Upstairs, there were two decent-sized bedrooms, and up a further flight two tiny attic rooms. There was a back yard with a wood shed and a lavatory, and this last particularly pleased Jess since, when she had lived at home in a court off Vauxhall Road, there had been a communal lavatory which was shared by all ten houses, and a communal water tap from which the householders filled numerous buckets, morning and night. She had said nothing of this to Ken, knowing that his parents had been far more affluent than her own, but had simply agreed with him that the house would do very well for a start.
She had told Gladys, who was to be her bridesmaid, that it would be a quiet wedding. ‘Ken’s parents are dead and me mam’s as poor as a church mouse, so the cost is going to fall on us and we’ll have enough expense without adding a huge wedding,’ she had explained. ‘My very best friend, the person closer to me than a sister, lives in Australia and couldn’t possibly come home. But I’ve other friends, of course, girls I nursed with. I may invite some of them.’
And despite Jess’s fears that something would occur to ruin their plans, everything had gone forward smoothly. The sale of the household goods and personal effects had taken place on the date selected, and Gladys had moved into her new post, whilst Jess, laden with bulging bags, had taken up residence in a small lodging house. The weather had been cold and crisp and Jess was fully occupied with Christmas coming on. She had written a long letter to Nancy and had spent the rest of the time either helping her landlady with the preparations for Christmas, or cleaning their future
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