‘Ah, so the wanderer has returned again, has she?’ He gave her a cheeky grin. ‘What wi’ you rushin’ off to take care o’ your uncle then goin’ off as a nanny to the Temple lads for Christmas, I’ve ’ardly seen owt of you fer months. I hope you’re home to stay now?’
Amber really wasn’t in the mood for Bertie but not wishing to be rude she merely shrugged and kept on walking. ‘Who knows what the future holds, eh? I suppose it all depends on what job I get next.’
He scowled at her. ‘But surely now you’re ready to think o’ settlin’ down?’ He sounded aggrieved. ‘You know I’m ready to get wed whenever you are.’
She stopped so abruptly that he almost bumped into her. This, she decided, had gone quite far enough.
‘Look, Bertie, you’re a nice chap an’ all that, an’ I’m sure there’s any number o’ girls that would jump at the chance o’ bein’ your wife, but I don’t want to get wed. Not now – not ever if it comes to that – so I’d best set the record straight once an’ for all!’
His face darkened. ‘Oh, I see. I ain’t good enough for you now that you’re hobnobbin’ wi’ the gentry, is that it?’
‘Of course it ain’t!’ Amber sighed with frustration. What would she have to do to convince him she wasn’t interested? ‘I don’t even know where you got the idea that there was ever anythin’ between us.’
She could see that he was put out but it couldn’t be helped and after giving him a curt nod, she hurried on leaving him standing there. Hopefully now he would have got the message.
As she turned into Argument’s Yard and saw the dull glow of the oil lamp through the curtains in the cottage, she felt a little rush of happiness. This humble cottage was the only home she had ever known and she was happy to be back.
On entering she saw her mother sitting darning in the chair by the fire but instead of the warm greeting she had expected Alice simply stared at her and Amber knew immediately that something was badly amiss. There was a large clothes horse with damp clothes steaming in front of the fire and the whole place stank of wet washing.
‘Hello, Mam.’ She gave a tentative smile as she placed her bag down by the door. ‘Everythin’ all right, is it?’
‘No, lass, I’m afraid it ain’t.’
Was it her imagination or did her mother suddenly look older? Amber wondered as she went to take a seat opposite her. She looked like the weight had dropped off her as well.
‘What’s up?’
Alice licked her dry lips and gently told her about what had happened to her father and brothers. Amber’s face crumpled as she thought of them all. Her gentle, kind dad, Reuben’s cheeky smile and Amos’s teasing nature. They were all gone and she would never see them again. It was a lot to take in and she began to pray that she was in a nightmare. Surely she would wake up soon and everything would be as it had been. And yet as she stared at her mother’s strained face, she knew that it was true and tears started to pour down her cheeks.
‘B-but why didn’t you let me know? I would have come home!’
‘There wasn’t time,’ Alice pointed out. ‘An’ what could you have done, lass?’
‘So how have you been managin’?’
‘Will and Ted are goin’ to send me a bit o’ their wages each month, although I’m not happy about it, an’ I’ve started takin’ in washin’ an’ ironin’ from the big houses up on the hill. That brings in a bit. We’ll scrape by somehow. Especially if you can find another post.’
‘I will,’ Amber promised brokenly, although as yet she had no idea what she could do. No doubt by now some of the widows whose husbands had gone down withThe Neptunewould be vying for any jobs that were going and they were always scarce enough as it was. Anxiety set in. It was more important than ever to find something – anything. Amber bowed her head. It felt as if her whole life had fallen apart over the last months; first with the baby and now losing her father and brothers, but she knew this wasn’t the time to give in to self-pity. Her mother needed her and somehow, although she just wanted to sit and cry, she was determined that they would get by.
*
Bright and early the very next morning, Amber set off across the frosty cobblestones to begin her job search, but by lunchtime she was chilled to the bone and thoroughly disheartened. She had even tried the local inn saying she was prepared to work behind the bar, cook, clean, anything, but the answer was always the same. There was not a job to be had anywhere and now Amber started to panic. What would become of them if she didn’t get work? A vision of the workhouse flashed before her eyes and she shuddered. But at least she could deliver the washing and ironing her mother would have ready.
Once home, she loaded it all onto an old cart the boys had made years ago, each pile safely wrapped in a clean towel, and set off up the hill to the nice houses that looked down across the harbour. How she had always dreamed of living in one of them, she thought wryly, and now she would just be grateful to be able to earn enough to keep the cottage roof over their heads.
At each house, she went to the back door where the housekeeper would check that the work was up to standard before paying her a pittance. Her mother had written her a list of where each pile was to go and halfway through the deliveries Amber was mortified to discover that her next drop-off was at Greenacres.
For a long time she stood at the end of the drive, shivering as she tried to force herself to go on. It had started to snow and it was settling fast, making it difficult to pull the cart, and she dreaded facing the staff she used to work with. But there was no other option so she clamped her teeth together and set off. At the moment her mother needed every penny she could get to survive and she couldn’t afford not to.
‘Well, bless my soul if it ain’t our Amber,’ the cook said jovially when Amber timidly tapped at the back door. ‘What brings you here, lass?’
‘I’m just deliverin’ the clean washin’ an’ ironin’ for me mam.’
‘Then pull that cart over there in the shelter an’ come on in afore you catch your death o’ cold,’ the kindly woman ordered her. ‘I’ll get you a nice hot cup o’ tea while Nancy goes to find Mrs Boswell.’
Amber did as she was told and minutes later, she gratefully sank down onto a chair at the side of the enormous kitchen table, glad for a brief respite out of the bitter cold. It was so hot in there that her damp clothes instantly started to steam.
The cook carried a mug of tea to the table for her, clucking her tongue sadly before saying, ‘We all heard what happened to your dad an’ your brothers, God bless their souls. I’m so sorry, lass.’
