Opal Plumstead Read online

  ‘Where did you learn to fight like that, a swotty little milksop like you?’

  ‘I was angry.’

  ‘Listen, I didn’t know it was your pa in the paper. I knew it had to be some relation, but not someone you were really close to.’

  ‘I love my father more than anyone in the world, even though he’s in prison,’ I declared.

  ‘I love my pa too, though since his accident he’s got a right temper when you cross him,’ said Patty. She paused. ‘You’ve got a right temper too!’

  ‘Mrs Roberts isn’t going to dismiss us, though,’ I said.

  ‘I know. She’s a good sort really, though she can make you feel bad,’ said Patty. ‘Very bad.’ She suddenly stuck out her arm. I jumped, thinking she was going to strike me again. But then I realized she wanted to shake hands.

  I stuck my own arm out, still a little warily. We shook hands awkwardly and then sprang apart again, blushing. Patty gave a little nod and then disappeared into a cubicle. I ran out of the room and back onto the factory floor.

  Freddy collared me anxiously. ‘Oh, Opal, my Lord, look at your nose!’ he said. ‘I’ll slap that Patty from here to next week for doing that to you.’

  Poor gangling Freddy was never going to be a match for sturdy Patty, and perhaps even he knew that, but I smiled warmly at him.

  ‘You don’t need to do that, Freddy. We’ve sorted it out now. Anyway, I hit her too. And scratched her face.’

  ‘My goodness, you’re quite a girl. My girl.’

  ‘Your friend, Freddy, your friend,’ I said.

  I wondered if he’d still want to be my friend if he read the Daily News himself. I thought perhaps he would. He was a sweet lad. In many ways I wished I could care for him.

  Work was more peaceful now. I still found moulding incredibly tedious, but I worked diligently all the same. I wanted George to give a good report of me to Mrs Roberts. Patty left me alone now. Maybe she was worried about Mrs Roberts too, but she seemed less hostile. Perhaps it was because I’d stood up to her at last. Maybe she even felt a little sorry for me. Whatever it was, we could work in the same room without any tension now. We weren’t exactly friends, but we weren’t bitter enemies, either.

  The other girls followed her lead and became a little friendlier. Nora still made a few snide remarks from time to time, but she was easy to ignore. I longed to find just one girl who might become a proper friend. I was still missing Olivia badly. In fact, I’d written to her once, a long letter reminding her of all the fun we’d had together, reminiscing about our favourite jokes, our special games, our solemn secrets. I finished it as follows:

  I know your mother has forbidden you to see me – but couldn’t you sneak out and meet me at the graveyard? No one would ever spot us there. I don’t finish work till six, but I could be there by quarter past if I run all the way. I know that might be a bit late, so what about Saturday or Sunday instead? You could pretend you were going out to tea with some other girl from school. I won’t be able to manage to give you a proper grand tea myself, but I can give you Fairy Glen sweets – lots of them!

  Please please please be a sport and show me we’re still close in spite of everything and that you still feel affection for

  Your loving friend,

  Opal

  I didn’t send it to Olivia’s house because I was sure her mother would be suspicious, open it herself and confiscate it. I sent it sealed in another letter to Mr Andrews at school. This meant I had to write to him too.

  Dear Mr Andrews,

  It was so good of you to visit me. I remember your kind words every day. I wish I could say I’ve taken your advice to heart, but if I’m strictly truthful I have to admit I’ve been a lazy girl and done little private studying so far. However, I have been working hard at the factory and seem to be making progress, though there has been one little altercation. Quite a big one actually, but Mrs Roberts has dealt with me very fairly (unlike Miss Mountbank!).

  I dare say you will have seen that there has been a travesty of justice. My poor father has been sentenced to a year’s hard labour.

  I am sorry the writing is a little blurred above. When I wrote the last paragraph, I could not help crying and a few of my tears splashed onto my writing paper.

  I am hoping that Olivia might still be my friend, so I wonder if you would be very, very kind and give the enclosed letter to her. I know I shouldn’t ask it of you, but these are exceptional circumstances, and I hope you still feel kindly towards

  Your sincere former pupil,

  Opal

  I am sure Mr Andrews passed on my letter immediately, but I had to wait more than a week for Olivia to reply. Her response was horribly brief.

  Dear Opal,

  I can’t. Be your friend, I mean. I just don’t dare. I’m so sorry. I do still care about you tremendously, though, and wish things were the way they used to be.

  Love from Olivia

  I cried again when I received the letter.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Opal, what’s the matter now?’ said Mother.

  ‘Olivia won’t be my friend any more,’ I wailed. ‘Her mother won’t allow it.’

  ‘Well, I can’t say that I blame her. If Olivia’s father was in prison, I wouldn’t want you to play with her,’ said Mother.

  ‘Yes, but I wouldn’t let that stop me being her friend,’ I replied.

  ‘That’s because you’ve always been a contrary, disobedient girl.’ Mother sighed as she looked at me. Then she smiled at Cassie, as if to say, You’ve never given me any trouble.

  If only she knew. Cassie was still secretly seeing Mr Evandale while spinning Mother endless tales of trysting with Philip Alouette.

  ‘You can’t carry on like this, Cass,’ I whispered that night when Mother was asleep.

  ‘Yes I can,’ she said serenely.

  ‘But Mother’s bound to find out. I’m amazed she hasn’t insisted that you invite this Philip back to our house for tea.’

  ‘She won’t do that, not now she’s so hideously embarrassed about our circumstances. She’d be worried about scaring Philip away. He can be wretchedly disdainful, you know.’

  ‘Cassie, he’s not real!’

  ‘He’s become real to me – and I find him a complete bore. How Mother can believe I’d be interested in such a pompous-sounding idiot, I don’t know.’

  ‘Just be jolly glad she does,’ I said. ‘She’ll be expecting an engagement soon, and then she’ll have to meet him,’ I said.

  ‘Well, maybe I’m engaged in real life already,’ said Cassie.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Shush! You’ll wake Mother.’

  ‘You are pretending, aren’t you?’

  ‘Look.’ Cassie crouched by the candle in my room and reached down inside her nightgown. She drew out a length of black silk ribbon with a ring dangling on the end.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ I peered at the ring. It was a gold signet ring set with a square black onyx, a seed-pearl rampant lion embedded in the stone.

  ‘It’s Daniel’s ring. He’s had it all his life,’ said Cassie. ‘But he’s given it to me. It’s a little big for me and he says he’ll have it altered, but I don’t want to risk spoiling it as it’s so perfect. I can’t wear it anyway, not yet.’

  ‘But is it a real engagement ring? He’s asked you to marry him?’

  Cassie fidgeted a little. ‘He’s asked me to be his love,’ she said.

  ‘That’s not the same thing.’

  ‘It’s better,’ said Cassie. ‘Oh, Opie, he really does love me, and I love him with all my heart. You’ve no idea how wonderful it is. You don’t understand. You’re too young.’

  ‘You’re young too – much too young to be seeing a middle-aged man,’ I said. ‘Especially when all your meetings are so – so clandestine.’ I wasn’t even sure what the word meant, but it sounded sophisticated and superior. I was struggling to hold my own, my feelings in a turmoil.

  ‘If you don’t watch out, he’ll have his wicked