Act of Will by Barbara Taylor Bradford

Author:Barbara Taylor Bradford [Bradford, Barbara Taylor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7953-3847-2
Publisher: RosettaBooks
Published: 2014-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

Vincent Crowther sat in the recreation grounds, behind the park in Moorfield Road, smoking a Woodbine.

He was no longer aware of the beautiful Indian Summer afternoon, and all of his earlier jauntiness had dissipated. He was engulfed in his worries about earning a living in order to support himself and Audra.

Only the other day he had read in the Yorkshire Post that there were one million nine hundred thousand men out of work in England. ‘Plus one,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘now that I’m about to join them.’ The idea of going on the dole appalled him. But he would have to do so, since there was nothing else he could do until he found another job.

When he had left Varley’s office he had felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach and the feeling persisted. He had wandered into the little park twenty minutes ago, hoping to clear his befuddled head, marshal his swimming senses before he went home. But he was still stunned, and just a bit bewildered. He had believed Fred Varley to be shrewd and successful, had never once imagined that the firm could go out of business, that Fred Varley, of all people, would go down. Just goes to show, he thought, you never really know about anybody.

Vincent had no idea where to begin to find work, for the simple reason that there weren’t any jobs to be had. Nor did he have any idea how he was going to break this terrible news to Audra.

What a blow it’ll be for her, he thought, and just when she was on her feet again after little Alfie’s death. He groaned out loud, then took a long, satisfying drag on his cigarette. He suddenly held it away, looked at it with a frown, asking himself how long he would be able to afford his Woodbines. And his pint of bitter. And a bet on the ponies on Saturday afternoons. A grimness settled over him. The prospects looked bleak. Bloody bleak indeed.

Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he closed his eyes, thinking about the money he had in the Yorkshire Penny Bank. Not much really. His savings would only tide them over for a month, at the most. And all he could expect to get on the dole was something like a pound a week for the two of them, perhaps a shilling or two more. Obviously he was going to have to do his damnedest to get a job, no matter what it was, or where it was, for that matter. He might well have to try other areas of Leeds, such as Bramley, Stanningley or Wortley, or go even farther afield to Pudsey and Farsley.

‘Well, well, well, if it’s not the gentleman of leisure! I wish I had time to sit on a park bench in the rec and idly fritter away the afternoon—and in the middle of the week no less!’

Vincent recognized the deep, masculine voice of his friend and brother-in-law. He opened his eyes, stared into Mike Lesley’s warm and friendly face peering down into his.

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