Lizzie's Dream Read online

  LIZZIE’S

  DREAM

  Beverley J. Tucker

  Copyright © 2018 Beverley J. Tucker

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  Matador

  9 Priory Business Park,

  Wistow Road, Kibworth Beauchamp,

  Leicestershire, LE8 0RX

  Tel: 0116 279 2299

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

  Twitter: @matadorbooks

  ISBN 978 1789011 685

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

  Dedicated to my grandson Martin

  who inspired me to finish the story.

  Also to the rest of my family for all their encouragement.

  In memory of Kev. A good friend.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  In Remembrance

  Forthcoming Novel: “Williams War”

  About the Author

  Beverley J. Tucker lives in Staffordshire. She has been writing since she was a teenager, and has previously written poetry which was featured on the Alan Freeman show on BBC Radio One. Lizzie’s Dream is her debut book.

  Chapter One

  “C’mon Lizzie, you’ll be late for work if you don’t get a move on, and you know what that means; the foreman will dock your pay!”

  “Alright Mum, I’m coming, just helping our Billy get dressed.” Life in the Entwhistle household was always hectic first thing in the morning. There were Ruth and Tom, Lizzie’s parents, then Lizzie, the eldest at 14 and a half, followed by John, 11, Alice, 8, and the youngest one, Billy, 6. Lizzie, John and their parents all worked at the mill from 8 in the morning till 6 at night. It was a tough job but the family needed every penny as they also supported Ruth’s parents who couldn’t work.

  The foreman at the mill, a stern man called Alf Braithwaite, had no sympathy with latecomers; whatever their excuses he would dock their pay, then put them on the worst jobs all day if they dared to arrive late for work.

  It was a hard life for everyone in Lancashire in the early 1900s; living conditions were cramped, and not everyone had the relative luxury the Entwhistles had of having more than 2 rooms to live in.

  Ruth’s parents, Joe and Mary, lived with the family, so while they were out at work, Mary did her best to do what she could in the home. She wasn’t very mobile as she suffered with chest problems after working most of her life in the mill herself. With the constant dust and fibres from the cotton, her lungs weren’t too good these days. She was luckier than some, though; a lot of people didn’t live beyond 60 and she was now in her mid-sixties. She considered herself very lucky to be living with her daughter and her family. Joe, who was a year older than Mary, had suffered an accident while he worked at the mill; one of the huge cotton looms had worked some of the bolts loose due to the constant vibration of the movement, and, as Joe was working the loom, a huge piece of the frame had suddenly fallen off, straight onto Joe’s feet. They were badly broken and, even after several weeks of rest, he had never walked properly again.

  Due to his premature retirement, the rest of the family rallied round, took Mary and Joe in to live with them and just tried to get by as best they could. Ruth had wanted a better life for her children but the harsh reality was that with so many mouths to feed, Lizzie had left school early to go to work and help support her family. She had always dreamed of finishing her education, as she loved school and hoped one day she could become a governess for a well-to-do family. She didn’t mind, though, as she had a little time to herself on Saturday afternoons, when she would read her books, or go for a walk with her best friend Hannah who lived just down the street, 4 doors away from Lizzie. Hannah was lucky enough to still be in school, so she tried to help Lizzie by recalling what she had learned at school that week, and Lizzie absorbed as much as she could, as she knew how important it was to have a good education.

  As they all hurried to work that day the rain was falling fast, which seemed to make the journey longer somehow. Their clothes were really wet by the time they arrived, and they just had time to remove their wet coats when the buzzer went. Lizzie heaved a sigh of relief; Alf seemed sterner than ever this morning. As he allocated the work to them he seemed to leave Lizzie till last, so she was wondering what he had in store for her today.

  Finally, he said “Lizzie, you have been here a couple of years now, and you seem quite capable, so I would like you to train Doris here. Teach her all you can, she can be your apprentice for a couple of weeks.” The poor girl looked scared to death, just like Lizzie had done on her first day. Doris was only 11 and Lizzie felt quite sorry for her really.

  “Come on, Doris,” Lizzie said, “I’ll show you what to do.”

  It wasn’t very pleasant in the sorting room; all the cotton had to be sorted into different grades of thickness, then bundled up and taken to the cotton weavers at the looms. You had to work quite fast so production didn’t slow down. Lizzie had mastered it quite quickly, so she didn’t struggle too much. She knew that in a few months if she was lucky, she might be promoted to apprentice weaver. Her mum and dad worked in the finishing shop, checking the work, but sometimes, if any of the weavers were off sick, they would be working on the looms. It was a tricky, sometimes tedious job and very noisy; you had to have your wits about you as you could be overseeing up to 3 looms – which had recently become automated – unlike previously, when all the looms were worked by hand.

  As Lizzie showed Doris what to do, the young girl started to cry. She was overcome by it all.

  “Don’t cry, Doris, the first day is always the worst but I will look after you.” Instantly, Doris responded to Lizzie’s kind words and dried her tears. As the day went on, Doris became more and more attached to Lizzie, watching her every move. She really started to admire this kind girl who was showing her how things were done. At lunchtime, Lizzie, John and Doris all sat together eating the meagre refreshments they had brought from home. They were all hungry, so they ate their bread and lard eagerly. They only had half an hour, then it was back to work. By the time 6 o’clock came, they were all glad to be going home, especially Doris, whose day had seemed so long somehow.

  As they all made their way home Lizzie said, “See you tomorrow Doris, and don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” That cheered Doris up no end as she needed all the encouragement
she could get at the moment.

  When all the family were sitting down to their evening meal of stew, cooked by Mary, Lizzie wondered how long it would be before she was promoted at work, as she knew that she would get a little extra each week to help the family. Still she hoped that one day she may achieve her dream in life.

  As the months went on, things carried on as normal in the Entwhistle household. Lizzie helped her younger brothers and sister with their reading and arithmetic in the evening and did any chores that needed doing. She also read to her grandmother, who loved hearing Lizzie read, as she made the stories come to life.

  Doris had settled in at the mill, Lizzie was hoping for promotion any day, and spring had arrived, so things were good. On her Saturday afternoons off, she liked to walk on the beautiful Lancashire hills with Hannah, and dream of better things. Lizzie was almost 15 now and she, as well as Hannah, had started to take an interest in boys – one in particular, Edward, who at the tender age of 17 was already an experienced cotton weaver. Lizzie liked Edward, he made her laugh and he also shared her love of books, and they would talk as often as they could about novels they had read. She was very fond of him but, deep down, she thought of him as an older brother. She knew he had deeper feelings but never let him think there was anything more. Hannah, on the other hand, was always falling in love – but only from a distance, as she would not have dared to talk to any of the young men as she was too shy. Her and Lizzie used to exchange their innermost thoughts; Hannah wanted to meet a handsome man, settle down, and have a family. Lizzie, on the other hand, felt that she wanted a bit more than that from life; she eventually wanted a home, husband, and family of her own, but not for a few years yet – she had things she wanted to do with her life first. Ruth knew that her daughter was not completely happy with her lot, and it worried her she felt guilty that Lizzie hadn’t had the chance to stay at school and better herself, but Lizzie never complained, she was a good girl. Ruth was never quite sure what was going on in her head.

  Chapter Two

  Every Sunday the whole family would make the 1-mile walk to church, except for Mary and Joe, who couldn’t walk that far. It was a very important part of the week, and although they didn’t always feel like it, the children of the Entwhistle family quite liked to get dressed in their Sunday best and have a good sing. No matter how short money was, there was always a nice Sunday roast when they got home from church, and they all looked forward to that. The ironical thing was, they lived just a short distance from the local Catholic church but as they were C of E, they had a little further to go, and it was all uphill. Secretly, Lizzie used to think, I wish we were Catholic then the walk wouldn’t be so long, but she wouldn’t mention it to her parents as they wouldn’t like it.

  One Sunday a few months later, as they were walking back home, they noticed a few new faces. There was an army barracks not far from them and it appeared there had been a new detachment of men posted there. It was Sunday afternoon and the soldiers had got a couple of hours off and were trying to familiarise themselves with their new surroundings. Some of the soldiers looked quite young and seemed a bit out of place in their new surroundings.

  “What a shame,” Ruth said, “especially on a Sunday – I bet they are missing being at home with their families.” Lizzie hadn’t taken too much notice until her mother spoke and, as they passed by, one of the younger looking lads smiled shyly at Lizzie who, in turn, blushed bright red and turned her head away in embarrassment. But as she walked on she couldn’t resist looking back, and the boy was still looking at her.

  This didn’t go unnoticed by Lizzie’s brother John, who started to tease her. “Who’s got an admirer then, hey!” This just made Lizzie blush even more.

  “Shut up, you!” she said, and she proceeded to chase after him. She tried to stop him, but he just carried on. After a while she just gave up trying to catch him. “Brothers!” she said. “Who needs them?”

  Ruth was watching Lizzie while all this was going on and she thought, I think she liked that young soldier. Up until this point, apart from her friendship with Edward, Lizzie had shown no interest at all in boys. She wanted to succeed in life and achieve her ultimate ambition: to become a governess one day.

  That evening, after the younger children had gone to bed and Lizzie was helping with the chores, Ruth said, “That young soldier smiled at you today, didn’t he?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mum, you know I’m not interested, I have my plans in life and boys don’t come into them!” Ruth thought she had answered too quickly and just smiled to herself. She had only been a little older than Lizzie when she had met Tom, the love of her life. They had courted for 2 years and got married when she was 18 and Tom was 19.

  Much as Lizzie tried not to think of that day, she couldn’t stop thinking about the young man and the way he had looked at her. Little did she know that future events were about to change her life forever.

  It was 1915 and the war had been going on for several months now; soldiers were being sent away to fight for king and country in France and Belgium. Lizzie could not help thinking about the young soldier and wondering how long it would be until he was sent away to fight as well.

  The next Sunday, when the family went to church, the congregation was larger than usual – there were soldiers occupying the last few pews and Lizzie could not help but sneak a look to see if her “admirer” was amongst them. When Ruth saw all the young soldiers in church she noticed how the young girl was looking at them all. When Lizzie realised her mum was watching her, she quickly turned her face away and took her seat.

  As the service got under way, the vicar was quite solemn when he delivered his sermon; it was apparent that with the current situation getting increasingly worse, Reverend Bartram wanted to make a special mention and say prayers for the soldiers already involved in the conflict. As he talked, there was not a sound in the church as everyone was listening intently to what he was saying. After praying for the saviour of the brave soldiers already in combat, he went on to say a special prayer for the soldiers in church. Suddenly, Lizzie realised what he was saying: “We must all pray for our brave boys here who will be sent off to fight for us all.” A chill went right through her body, because she knew that she wanted to see the young man again and now, maybe, she may not get the chance.

  After the service was over, the family made their way out of church, Lizzie being the last as she had to go back in to fetch her gloves which had dropped from her lap as she stood up to leave. She was busy putting on her gloves as she emerged to a chilly morning, when there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned and her heart leapt in surprise; there was the young soldier in front of her. She was tongue-tied and felt the colour rush to her cheeks. At first, they just looked at each other – neither spoke, then, shyly, the young boy (he didn’t seem much older than Lizzie was) said, “I hope you don’t mind me stopping you like this, but I just had to speak to you.”

  “N— no!” Lizzie stammered, not really knowing what else to say.

  The young boy went on, “I just wanted to say hello, I’ve seen you and your family come to church a few times and I wanted to meet you. We are being posted in a few weeks’ time and don’t know when we will be back.”

  Lizzie’s heart lurched at this news, although she was expecting it really. He went on, “There is a dance at the village hall on Saturday and I was wondering if you would like to go.” Lizzie was dumbstruck – an unusual occurrence for her as she never usually had trouble speaking!

  “Y— yes, but I will have to ask my parents first,” she spluttered. His face lit up at that, as he had thought she would send him away with a flea in his ear, because he had never asked a girl out before and didn’t know what response he would get.

  Just then, their privacy was interrupted by a shout from another soldier. “Hurry up, Harry, you don’t want to be put on report, do you!”

  With that, he smiled at Lizzie and said,
“I hope you can come – it’s 8 o’clock and there will be a band.” Just before he turned to go he smiled again and said, “I’m Harry, by the way, can you tell me your name?”

  Lizzie was frozen to the spot, but she managed to utter “Lizzie”, and with that, the young man turned and ran to catch up with the others. By this time, Lizzie’s family were a little distance away, but Ruth had waited at the church gate and been witness to this meeting, though she hadn’t heard what had been said.

  As Lizzie slowly started to walk down the path, her head was all over the place – why did she feel so disorientated and mixed up all of a sudden? She had her plans for her life but now everything seemed up in the air. When she reached Ruth, she was still a bit nonplussed by what had happened, and she just kept thinking, Harry, that’s his name! Ruth could tell what she was thinking and recognised that far-away look in her eyes, because she had felt exactly the same when she had first met her Tom. Why did Lizzie feel so funny? She’d never felt like this before.

  As they slowly walked along neither spoke for a few minutes, then Ruth said, “You alright, love? You seem a bit quiet, has something happened?”

  “I’m not sure, Mum, that young soldier has just asked me to go to a dance and I don’t know what to do.”

  Ruth smiled inwardly and said, “Don’t worry, love, we can have a talk when we get home, eh?”

  Chapter Three

  When they got home, Mary had cooked a lovely dinner for them all and they all sat down to enjoy it. After dinner, Lizzie was still very quiet, and when she told her parents about Harry, Tom was a bit concerned. “I don’t know if you’re old enough to start going out with boys.”

  But Ruth spoke up and said, “Oh Tom, it’s only a dance – and how old were we when we met?”