Ach, it’s good to smile about the day-to-day of those times. Before long, the world—well, it was not a happy place, no, and those of us with jobs thanked the Lord for them every day. After it all came to a head in 1929, Mills & Ware was like most other places, it put us all permanently on a week’s notice, and never did we know how long it might be before we were among the jobless. We worked hard, we weren’t late, not ever, we minded what we said. We hoped.

16

Clementina’s ugly man

Clementina Slater Ratter became Clementina Laing in 1929, and wasn’t anybody more surprised about that than she was.

She met Jack Laing—you remember your Uncle Jack, don’t you, lambsie?—when she caught him one Friday night crouching down by our doormat, tucking under it a brown paper envelope with her name typed on the front. Inside, six shillings. No note.

What’s all this? she demanded, frowning at his striped suit and olive-green tie and very red face. Who are you?

I’m an Ugly Man … he began.

Her face softened a little. Ach, don’t be so hard upon yourself, pet, ye’re not so bad.

His red face got redder and he tried again. He got as far as war widows and welfare and fund-raising before she stopped him with an upturned palm.

There’s others need charity more, she said, and will be glad for your face at their door.

She handed him the envelope and folded her arms with a sniff.

Jack Laing looked taken aback. He’d not met war widows like Clementina. The look on his face made me laugh, and he glanced over her shoulder and doffed his hat to me politely. And then he invited Clementina to Uglie Land the next night. That was a fairground down by Victoria Quay run by the Ugly Men’s Association to raise funds for people in the community who were struggling.

It was late when Clementina got home from Uglie Land. I made a pot of tea while she shook with laughing and told me about the merry-go-round and the chairoplane and the roller skating.

Did you skate? I asked.

Course I did, she declared.

Really?

Aye! Then a confession: But I’d to hang on to that Jack Laing’s elbow to keep my feet on the ground an’ my behind off it!

I smiled as Clementina talked of sugar floss on sticks and ginger beer and That Jack Laing this and that. I’d heard about Uglie Land, it had a bit of a lively reputation. Huge crowds went there of a Saturday night. But Clementina said no, there were not so many now. That Jack Laing, he says the place has gone quiet since the Crash an’ there’s talk of closing.