that when she awoke it would all have been just a terrible dream. She couldn’t do that, though. People she loved needed her.
Mindful of not disturbing her grandmother, Aidy carefully eased aside the bedcovers and slipped out of bed. It wasn’t until she was pulling on her underslip over her knickers and brassiere that she spotted Bertha’s side of the bed was empty. A frown settled on her face. She had obviously had a restless night and Bertha had sought the refuge of the sofa so that she could sleep.
Washed and dressed now, Aidy made her way down the stairs. As she neared the bottom, she was surprised to hear sounds of life. Someone was up and about. Arriving in the back room, she saw that the range was lit, a pan of bubbling porridge sitting on one of the plates, and the person responsible for saving her all this trouble, in the process of setting the table.
On spotting Aidy, Bertha beckoned her over. ‘Morning, love. Sit yerself down and I’ll mash you a fresh cuppa. I wasn’t expecting you up for another hour at least.’
She did as she was bidden, responding, ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you up and about, Gran.’ Then in an apologetic tone she added, ‘I’m so sorry my tossing and turning disturbed you.’
Having put dishes and cutlery down on the table, Bertha bustled over to the range to give the thick creamy porridge a stir. ‘It didn’t, me duck. You slept like a log, didn’t move all night.’
‘So why are you up at this time? I have to be, but you don’t.’
Bertha turned to face Aidy, her face set firm. ‘I was up and about before, helping yer mother see the kids off to school and her off to work, and I’ll do the same for you. And I’ll still be doing what I can around the house, same as I did for Jessie. Porridge won’t be much longer. While yer eating it, I’ll rouse the kids.’
Aidy smiled warmly back at her. The worrying prospect of how she was going to manage moneywise without Arch’s help was daunting, but how could she have assumed that all that went into running the house and looking after the occupants, making sure they were clean and fed, would be entirely hers to bear, too, when she had a grandmother of the special type she did? The kids would do what they were capable of also, she had no doubt of that.
‘Thanks, Gran,’ Aidy said softly.
On arriving down for their breakfast, the children all tentatively poked their heads around the doorway that led into the back room from the stairs. It was apparent they were checking that between the time they had gone to bed and now, there had not been a change of heart and Pat and Jim Nelson had after all moved in to take over their care. The relieved expressions on all their faces were very apparent. They were far from their normal lively selves, though, very subdued in fact, doing what was asked of them without any quibbles, obviously all still very much grieving the loss of their mother.
Mid-morning, as she was bent over her machine amongst fifty machinists, all labouring away in a large, windowless, dust-filled room, the booming voice of the department’s forewoman cut into Aidy’s thoughts.
‘There’s approaching two million unemployed in this country at the moment, Mrs Nelson, so getting a replacement for you won’t be any trouble. Now, I appreciate you lost your mother only days ago, but the boss doesn’t care about that. What he does care about is getting orders out, which we aren’t going to do with the amount of time you are taking to sew a sleeve into one dress! Two minutes forty-five seconds is the allotted time. You’ve been on that one fifteen, to my certain knowledge.’
Despite fighting hard to concentrate on her work, Aidy’s thoughts seemed always to be straying. She couldn’t stay focused on what she was doing. Coping with her emotions was proving hard, but rising above her pain was worry about just how she was going to keep a roof over her family’s heads, and them fed, clothed and warm, on only her wage and the little bit her grandmother made. Looking fearfully up at her superviser, she gulped. Somehow she had to stop her personal problems from interfering with her work. Because if she lost this job …
She blustered to her forewoman, ‘It’s the material, Mrs Hardwick. It … er …