‘If I had I wouldn’t be looking for him, would I?’
‘Well, he’s not here. He must be still at the mill.’
‘Oh no. He’s not at the mill. That’s one thing I know. That fancy education you wanted for him has got him the sack.’
‘No!’ said Ellen in disbelief.
‘I told him to keep his trap shut till he could lose that hoity-toity accent of his. If he’d just knuckled under . . .’
‘But Ralph’s a worker. Even in his school holidays he did farm work.’
‘Oh, he worked all right but he didn’t mix, did he?’
Winifred lowered her newspaper. ‘If he wasn’t supposed to open his mouth, how was he supposed to talk to them? In dumb-show?’
‘You keep out of this. It’s none of your business.’
‘Oh, yes it is. I’m family.’
‘And I don’t want her ending up with her nose in the air,’ he said, suddenly pointing at Elsie. ‘One sign of it and I’m having her out.’
Elsie jumped nervously. There was a sudden snap from under the table where her hands were hidden. She flushed and looked hurriedly at her mother.
‘Oh, no, Elsie,’ her mother whispered.
‘What’s that?’ her father said sharply.
‘Dad,’ said Harry quickly, ‘if Ralph’s got the sack, his apprenticeship will be going, won’t it?’
‘So?’
‘I could take it.’
‘You’ve got to stay at school until you’re fourteen,’ said Ellen.
‘I know but maybe Dad could persuade them to let me leave a couple of terms early, eh?’
‘After today I’ll be lucky to keep my job.’
‘But I don’t understand,’ said Ellen. ‘Why did they sack him?’
‘In a nutshell, backchat, being over-qualified and reading.’ He slumped down in the chair. ‘I told him not to let on about that ruddy School Certificate.’
‘How’d they find out?’
‘He took a book with him to read in his dinner break, I ask you. Worse than that it was one of those ruddy theatre books. French Without Beer or something.’
‘Tears,’ said Elsie quietly.
‘What?’
‘French Without Tears. It’s called a play.’
‘Don’t tell me what it’s called, young lady.’
‘She was only trying to help, love.’
‘Anyway, the other boys was teasing him, but instead of shoving the book out of sight, he starts answering them back. So, one of the men snaps at him and says he can’t read it. So your Ralph says, that’s because bits are in French and he starts telling them what it means in English!’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ asked Ellen bewildered.
‘It was the ruddy foreman who was looking at the book. Ralph showed him up, didn’t he? In front of the other apprentices, who then started calling Ralph a pansy.’
Ellen glanced quickly at Elsie and Harry. ‘So what did he do?’
‘Instead of socking them one, he turns to the foreman and says, “You don’t seem to be able to keep your charges in order.” In that posh voice of his.’
‘I told you he was hoity-toity,’ said Joan.
‘That’s what the foreman said. Anyway, they starts to take the piss out of the way he was talking. So Ralph apparently asks him what accent would be acceptable, and you know what he does?’
‘He didn’t hit him, did he?’
‘Oh no, he only does every accent in the entire universe and then asks him if any of those will do?’
‘And then?’
‘He’s handed his cards. And do you know what Ralph says? He says, “This must be one of the happiest days of my life.” And he walks out!’ He shook his head. ‘Well, if he can’t pay his way, he’s not staying ’ere. There’s boys who’d give their right arm to work in that mill. I had to eat a lot of humble pie to get him in. Especially him being so much older than the others. Ungrateful little so-and-so.’
‘But where is he?’ asked Ellen.
‘Lying low upstairs probably.’
‘We would’ve heard him coming in,’ said Win. ‘And we haven’t.’
‘How do I know you’re not protecting him?’
‘Why should I? He’s as bad as you are.’
‘Win, please,’ said Ellen. ‘You’re only making things worse.’
John glared at his sister-in-law. ‘You ought to be grateful you’ve got a home here.’
‘So you keep reminding me.’
‘John, don’t,’ said Ellen.
‘And I’d like to remind you I pay my way. Even though you ain’t got no carpets,’ she snapped, and she raised her newspaper again.
John pushed his way forcefully past the chairs and left the room. They listened to him stamping up the stairs yelling out, ‘Ralph! Ralph!’
Immediately Ellen rushed over to Elsie. Elsie lifted the spectacles. One side-piece had snapped off the joint. ‘The lens isn’t broken,’ said Ellen relieved. ‘We can fix that with some plaster. Now put them in your satchel. Quick.’
Elsie had hardly put them in the bag hanging from her chair when the door swung open and her father entered, his arms full of books.
‘What you doin’ with them?’ gasped Ellen.
‘They’ll keep us warm until he gets home.’ He marched over to the range.
‘No!’ yelled Ellen. ‘Some of them’s presents from the rector and his son.’
He opened the range with the tongs and threw one book in.
‘Stop it!’ screamed Ellen, flinging herself in front of him.
‘Get out of my way!’ And he gave her a shove. She fell backwards and her head caught the corner of the table.
‘Ellen!’ he cried. He flung the books to the floor. ‘Ellen. Are you all right?’
‘That’s what the Nazis did,’ said Win.
He swung round. ‘What you on about?’
‘They burnt books.’
‘You calling me a Nazi?’
‘Actions speak louder than words.’
‘I wish Ralph had stayed in Cornwall with that vicar,’ muttered Joan miserably.
‘Amen to that,’ added Win. ‘Males give you nothing but a headache.’
Elsie gazed anxiously at her mother. Her dad was helping her to her chair. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said. ‘I’ve had a hell of a day.’
‘And now we’re all having a hell of a night,’ commented Win.
‘Can’t you keep your mouth shut for a second, woman!’ he shouted.
Ellen gazed helplessly at John and her sister. She rubbed her forehead briskly as if trying to rub away the pain.
‘I