Author's Note: this is the sequel to Through Beaded Doorways and Rebellion and just like it's prequel it is inspired by the BBC's reality TV show where the families were forced to live out their ancestors lives in different eras. This is also a little more precious to me, I know very little of my mother's childhood and what I do know of it was enough it wasn't a good one. Due to this reality TV show I learnt that it wasn't just a difficult for my mother but it was very difficult to be a mother in the seventies. My Nanny had to hold three jobs just to make ends meet because she wasn't paid enough in her first, she had been persecuted for being a divorcee as well as a woman, and her second husband was not a better alternative, to make things worse she had to raise four children when England was at the brink of self-destruction. Therefore this Fanfiction is dedicated to some of the strongest women in my family, my mother, my two grandmothers (because no doubt my Granny Fiona had a difficult time raising her own children as well), and my aunt.
Emma did not realise that she had been treated differently until she accidentally saw Billy Cox's pay check.
It had been a complete accident. She hadn't meant to snoop, she just found it on the bar, and couldn't help but notice he was paid a large amount more than she was. They worked the same afternoon shift and the same days of the week. There should be no difference in her pay check and yet there was.
She came home angry and ranted to George as he struggled to get Emily to eat her vegetables. "I'm sure your pay is a little low because you have been on maternity leave," George said in what he obviously thought was a reassuring tone.
"That was almost three years ago," Emma hissed, "and I was not on leave I had been fired it's only because there was no one else to help Billy on the afternoon shift that I got hired again. This is an injustice George!"
"Oh don't be so melodramatic, Emma," George rolled his eyes. He turned his attention back to Emily who was trying to slide under the table and escape from her greens. "Oh no you don't missy," he growled before pulling his daughter back up into her chair. "It's not as if you need the money Emma. Just let it be and help me with this infernal daughter of yours."
While George was right, there was very little need of the money as they were part of the dying breed of landed gentry and only worked out of boredom, Emma was incensed that he could be so callous about this. "It has nothing to do with the money!" Emma snarled. "It is everything to do with the principle of things! We have just stopped discriminating those with a different skin colour it's about time we stopped discriminating the fairer sex as well!"
"Are you going to save the Irish as well?" George asked amused.
"Urgh! You're incorrigible!" Emma screeched. "I'm going out, I've been invited to a Tupperware party and I have no doubt they'll be more understanding than you!" Emma stormed to the kitchen door and just before she left she turned round to face George, her face bright red with anger, "And I have you know she's your daughter as well!"
The door slammed behind her and the kitchen fell silent for a long minute as George and Emily tried to understand what just happened.
"Daddy...why is Mummy angry?" Emily asked.
"I don't know," George said bewildered, "eat your vegetables."
"Daddy...what is tub wear?" Emily asked.
"I don't know," George repeated feeling a little stupid now, "but if it has something to do with your mother then I have no doubt that it's nothing but trouble."
EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW
As it happened the Tupperware party was Jane Churchill's idea to help her aunt Miss Bates raise some more money to help pay her bills. The local married women gathered in Miss Bates' small living room and admired the plastic boxes and containers that would keep their food fresh. Emma sat through the painful long pitch Miss Bates stuttered into with Jane's encouragement. Out of pity Emma had already brought five different items in order to not just help Miss Bates out financially but make her feel good as well.
So then hopefully at the next Tupperware party no one will have to suffer nervous stuttering ever again.
As many of the older women herded around Miss Bates to enquire over the goods Emma turned to Jane and complained about her whole day. Over the last couple years the pair of them had bonded over the fact they were mothers, Jane had a darling little boy called Freddie, and she was the only one close enough for Emma to talk to with Isabella and Harriet were in London.
"Oh I know exactly what you mean," Jane sympathised with Emma, "I find it difficult to keep my job at the school every day since I had Freddie. The headmaster is always so patronising about it, are you sure we are not keeping you Mrs Churchill, would you not rather leave now Mrs Churchill, are we keeping you from feeding your son Mrs Churchill, if I had less patience I would snap and walk out of that school never to return again."
"I would have wrung his neck," Emma said, "so even with less patience you are still more patient than I am."
"We're luck you and I," Jane said with a small smile from Emma's dark humour, "we have husbands who support us and help look after our children, and even if they can't help out then we have relatives, most women aren't as fortunate and are forced to make ends meet from their husbands pay check if he hasn't drank it all away."
"Even so! Those who have the chance to work aren't getting their full pay," Emma said angrily, "some women are alone in the world with only themselves to take care of their children. How are they to make ends meet if they are not even getting the full pay they deserve? Something must be done about this!"
"You know there are societies and little groups all over the country fighting this injustice," Jane said with a slight mischievous glint in her eyes, "they are meeting in London to protest against lack of women's rights. It is this weekend coming up; we could go together if you like."
"It's been a long time since I did some shopping in London," Emma said with a sly smile, "I'm sure George will believe me if I told him I was shopping with Harriet."
"Harriet can come too if she wants," Jane grinned.
"What about Frank?" Emma asked. "Wouldn't he disapprove of your marching through London?"
"He doesn't get a say in anything," Jane said with some annoyance, "ever since '66 he doesn't dare tell me what to do. Too guilty."
Emma grimaced as she had a huge role in the incident of '66 when Frank acted like an arsehole and convinced the world he was all for free love and was having a fling with Emma. Emma had done absolutely nothing to stop the rumours (though in all fairness she was unaware of them) and caused more trouble by making it look like she was flirting back with him.
Ever since Jane and Frank married two months after the particularly painful incident Emma has always felt a little awkward when they argue or even make the slightest implication towards that incident six years ago.
"Well then," Emma said trying to switch the conversation back to its original topic, "sounds like a plan. Now can I have this cereal box in pink?"
EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW
George was trying to feed Emily again.
Emma had came home two days ago from her Tupperware Party (whatever that was he still hadn't quite worked it out) happier than she had been when she left and they instantly made up. She grew happier and more cheerful as Saturday came along and George was more than willing to let her go and see Harriet. He knew she missed Harriet more than she would admit to him and thought it was best to leave her to it after all he could use a day with just his little girl.
Saturday slowly came to an end as he chased his troublesome child, who was every bit like her mother though she looked like him in looks, away from danger and decided as a treat to let her eat her dinner in the living room while they watched a movie.
Of course Emily disapproved of the peas on her dinner and had started to hide them under the coffee table which George was now under trying to get them back on her plate. This was not an easy task as Emily kept trying to kick his face and guarded her plate fiercely as if it was a box of jewels.
Then suddenly out of nowhere Emily chirped, "Look Daddy! Mummy is on the telly!"
George let out a yelp as he bashed the top of his head on the coffee table in his hurry to crawl out from underneath it. He got out just in time to see Emma's face clear as daylight amongst the crowd of screaming women.
He groaned and pinched his nose in an attempt to prevent the oncoming headache.
"Why is it Emily," he said to his gleeful child, "that your mother can never stay out of trouble when she's in London?"
EWEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW
The moment Emma saw George waiting for her on the platform she knew she was in trouble.
George would have never waited for her on the platform without Emily and she couldn't see her darling girl anywhere and he would have never lost Emily in a million years, too much practise from when she was a little girl unfortunately. It was something Emily was never going to forgive her for when her father catches her in trouble. Obviously George left Emily at her father's or maybe even called Miss Bates to babysit so he could tell Emma off without Emily witnessing it. They had both agreed to keep all arguments away from Emily; they didn't want her to disobey them when they tell her to stop screaming just because she heard them scream at one another before.
Taking a deep breath Emma went out to brave the ire of her husband.
"Hello darling," she said cheerfully.
"Don't hello darling me as if nothing has happened, Emma Knightly," George snapped, "I saw you clear as daylight on the news. What on earth were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt, or arrested, or worse hospitalised."
"Oh honestly George I can take care of myself," Emma rolled her eyes, "I had to do this. It's not fair how we get treated. Why shouldn't a woman earn the same wage as a man? Keep her job no matter how many children she has? Or even better why can't a woman have the same job as a man. There are still plenty of jobs that don't allow women, like the police! We're just as good as you lot, in fact I think we could do it better than you."
"That may be, Emma," George said gritting his teeth, "but life is rarely fair and you need to get used to that."
This caused one of the worst arguments they ever had which escalated very quickly into a screaming match the moment they entered the front door to their home.
"YOU NEVER SUPPORT ME IN ANYTHING!" Emma screamed at George's back. "WHATEVER I DO OR WANT NEVER MEETS YOUR APPROVAL!"
"I NEVER SUPPORT YOU?!" George whirled round looking furious. The last time Emma had seen his face that red was during a rather comical moment it was quite a surprise to see it so red in an argument. DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH I HAVE SUPPORTED YOU IN EVERYTHING YOU WANTED TO DO FROM BALLET LESSONS WHEN YOU WERE FIVE TO RUNNING OFF TO LONDON WHEN YOU WERE NINETEEN. I AM NOTHING BUT A BALL OF SUPPORT FOR YOUR FLIGHTS OF FANCIES!"
"What is that supposed to mean?!" Emma hissed.
"You know full well what it means Emma, I always support you, I do nothing but support you, it is you who never support me," George said harshly, "you keep saying that women need equal rights but you forget that in this household it is the men who need more rights."
"That is not true!" Emma protested. "I have always supported you when there was something you wanted to do!"
"No you haven't!"
"Yes I have!"
"No you haven't!"
"Yes I have!"
"No you haven't!"
"Yes I ha-"
The argument was suddenly cut off as the landing light went out plunging the couple into darkness.