Read A Mother's Wish Online

Authors: Dilly Court

A Mother's Wish (31 page)

‘She stole money,’ Salter roared. ‘And a gold watch that was left to me all legal and above board. I got the old man’s will to prove it.’

Effie clapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out. She was angry now and her first instinct was to go out and face the Salters, but Georgie was obviously terrified and any minute he might open his mouth and yell. Hoping that Nellie would keep them occupied long enough for them to get away, Effie hitched her son over her shoulder and tore out of the house. Tom was in the stable yard with Champion harnessed to the cart and Jeffries making last minute checks as to the roadworthiness of the vehicle.

‘They’re here, Tom,’ Effie said breathlessly.
‘Salter and Sal are at the front door. We must leave now.’

‘Hold on, missis,’ Jeffries protested. ‘I ain’t checked everything yet.’

‘We can’t waste another minute. It will have to do.’ Effie handed Georgie to Tom while she climbed up onto the driver’s seat. She held out her arms. ‘Come along, poppet. We’re going for a drive with Tom. Won’t that be fun?’

Tom lifted Georgie onto her lap and leapt up onto the cart, taking the reins. ‘Goodbye, Jeffries, old chap. I’ll come back and see you often, I promise.’

‘You’ll forget,’ Jeffries said morosely. ‘Once you’ve gone on your way you’ll put us out of your mind.’

‘You don’t know me very well if you think that.’ Tom flicked the reins and Champion moved forward. ‘I’ll be back before you know it. Just make sure those people don’t follow us.’

‘Go slowly until we’re out of earshot,’ Effie whispered. ‘Once we’re on our way they won’t be able to do anything about it. Let’s hope the mist doesn’t lift until we’re out of sight.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Head for the city. We need to disappear and we’re too easy to spot in the country. I think we should head for Ben Hawkins’ pub. We can put up for the night there and maybe
Ben can help us find somewhere cheap to rent. He knows everyone in Bow.’

Tom shot her a curious look. ‘Isn’t that a bit dangerous? Won’t that be the first place that Salter will look for us?’

‘There’s no reason for him to follow the canal now that the
Margaret
is gone, and we have to sleep somewhere. To be honest, Tom, I can’t think of anywhere else to go and Ben is a friend.’

‘Mrs Hawkins ain’t a friend,’ Tom said glumly. ‘She’s an old besom.’

‘I’ll make certain that I avoid her at all costs, but Betty was kind to us last time we were there. I feel in need of seeing some familiar faces.’

Tom grinned and nudged her in the ribs. ‘I suppose you want me to go by way of Bow Common, just in case the fair happens to be there.’

‘The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.’ Effie turned her attention to Georgie who was fidgeting on her lap. ‘Sit still, there’s a good boy. We’ve a long way to go yet.’

The mist cleared as they left the marsh, and the ride was smoother now that they had left the rutted track and were driving on metalled roads. After weeks in the depths of the country it seemed strange to be back in the hurly-burly of city life. Horse-drawn
vehicles clogged the streets and people bustled about their daily business. Smoke belched from factory chimneys and the once familiar stench of chemicals, tar, varnish and fumes from the gasworks came as a shock after the clean air they had grown accustomed to breathe without coughing and choking. The soot-blackened buildings looked grim even in the golden September sunlight, and Effie could only be thankful that it was a fine day. Had it been raining or foggy she thought she might have turned tail and returned to Marsh House.

After several stops along the way to eat and allow Champion to rest it was early evening by the time they reached the tavern. The horse was showing signs of age. Effie did not know exactly how old he was, but she knew that he had been working the canals for many years. He had cast a shoe halfway and they had had to find a farrier to replace it, which had taken up even more time. There had been no sign of the fair when they passed through Bow Common, and Effie was not sure whether to be relieved or saddened. A part of her wanted to see Frank again. She wanted him to tell her that it was all a mistake and he had walked away from the arranged marriage. But she knew in her heart that Toby had told her the truth, and to meet Frank face to face would only open up old wounds. He was lost to her
forever and there was nothing she could do about it.

The bar was crowded with workmen slaking their thirst after a long day’s toil in the factories. Ben was behind the bar and his face split into a wide grin when he saw Effie. He finished serving a customer and came round the corner of the bar to greet them.

‘Where’ve you been all this time?’ He slapped Tom on the back, ruffled Georgie’s blond curls and kissed Effie on the cheek. His smile faded. ‘That bloke Salter was looking for you. It’s a few weeks ago now and I couldn’t tell him what I didn’t know, but he’d been asking questions all round the pub.’

‘He found us,’ Tom said, puffing out his chest. ‘But he didn’t catch us. We was too smart for Salter and his missis.’

Ben regarded him with a frown. ‘Don’t you be too cocksure, young ’un. He was in here spouting off that you’d burnt the boat and taken a watch or something that was rightly his. He’s a nasty piece of work and out for trouble.’

‘We won’t be staying long,’ Effie said hastily. ‘Could you give us a bed for tonight, Ben? I can pay.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, love. We’re full up with commercial travellers, and even if we wasn’t, I don’t think the missis would
appreciate me giving you a room. You know how it is.’

‘It was just a thought. We’ll find a lodging house somewhere round here.’ She glanced down at Georgie as he tugged at her hand.

‘Hungry, Mama.’

Ben’s taut features dissolved into a grin. ‘He’s coming on, Effie. He was just toddling when I last saw you. Now he can speak up for hisself.’ He lifted Georgie onto his shoulders. ‘You’re a fine fellow and we can’t let you go hungry. We’ll see what Betty has for you.’ He headed for the kitchen, beckoning to Effie and Tom. ‘Come on, you two. I won’t let you leave without a bite to eat, and Betty might know of a place you can stay until you find something more permanent.’

Betty’s face lit up when she saw Georgie. She stopped what she was doing and hurried forward with her arms outstretched. ‘Why, here’s my lovely boy. How you’ve grown, young Georgie.’ She took him from Ben and sat him down on the table. ‘You look as though a slice of cake would go down well, young man.’ She cut a wedge of chocolate cake and he bit into it with a beatific smile on his face.

‘I’ve got to get back to the bar,’ Ben said, glancing anxiously over his shoulder as if he expected to see his wife standing behind him. ‘I’ll leave them in your capable hands, Betty.
Give them what they want to eat and no charge.’

‘I should think not, master,’ Betty said, pursing her lips. ‘After all the work Effie done for you in the past she deserves a free meal.’ She ruffled Tom’s hair. ‘I don’t know about this one, though. As I recall he weren’t the most reliable pot boy.’

‘I’ve changed,’ Tom said stoutly. ‘I’m a good worker now, ain’t I, Effie?’

‘When you want to be,’ she said, smiling. ‘But we can pay, Ben. I don’t want charity.’

‘Sit down and eat. Talk later.’ Betty took a pie from the oven and served two generous portions. ‘It’s beef and ale; the best in the house.’

Tom grabbed his plate and sat down, tucking in with relish. Effie was more eager to speak to Ben than she was hungry and she took him aside. ‘I need to find somewhere cheap to rent. I thought you might be able to help.’

‘I’ll do anything I can, but I’m sorry to see you in this plight, Effie. I heard that the old man died when the barge went up in flames.’

‘He was a sick man, although I think the Salters might have quickened his end.’

‘It’s a bad business, Effie. What will you do now?’

‘I need work and I want to make a home
for us so that we don’t have to keep moving from place to place.’

Ben scratched his head. ‘Things ain’t easy. The railways have taken a lot of the trade from the canals and I don’t need any help in the bar.’

‘I wasn’t asking you for work. I know Mrs Hawkins wouldn’t put up with having us around, but I’ll do anything to earn a respectable living. At the moment the most important thing is to find somewhere to live.’

Betty pushed a plate towards Effie. ‘I shan’t tell you again, Effie Grey. Sit down and eat. You can put up at my place tonight, although you’ll have to share a bed with my three girls and young Tom can sleep with the boys.’

Tom looked up with a mischievous grin. ‘How about I share a bed with the girls and Effie can sort herself out?’

Betty cuffed him round the head. ‘That’s enough of that talk, young man. Any more like that and you’ll sleep in the cellar with the rats and mice.’

‘Ben.’ Maggie Hawkins entered the kitchen, arms akimbo, glaring at Effie. ‘I might have guessed you’d turn up again. What is she doing in my kitchen?’

‘They’re just passing through, my love,’ Ben said nervously.

‘And eating our vittles by the look of it. We’re not running a home for paupers.’

Effie put her hand in her pocket and took out a shilling, tossing it onto the table. ‘That should cover the cost of the meal, Mrs Hawkins. We’ll be gone as soon as we’ve eaten and we won’t trouble you again.’

‘No, really,’ Ben protested. ‘There’s no need for payment, Effie. I’m sure we can treat our old friends to a bit of supper without breaking the bank.’

‘You’d take the food from our infants’ mouths and feed it to the poor if I let you.’ Maggie gave Effie a look that would have curdled cream. ‘I expect you to be gone by the time I come back.’ She marched out of the kitchen with an impatient twitch of her thin shoulders.

‘She don’t mean half of what she says, Effie,’ Ben said apologetically. ‘She gets tired of a night after a long day looking after five little ones. I’d best get back to the bar.’

‘I’m sorry, Ben,’ Effie murmured. ‘I didn’t mean to cause trouble.’

He hesitated in the doorway. ‘It’s not your fault. I’d like to help but you can see how it is. If there’s anything I can do . . .’

Effie thought of Champion, the faithful animal who had worked tirelessly pulling the narrowboat in all weathers for so many years. She knew that she would not be able to keep him now, but he was getting towards the end
of his working life and she could not bear to think of him going to the knacker’s yard. ‘There is something,’ she said tentatively. ‘Could you look after Champion for me? Just until I can find someone who will let him live out the rest of his days at pasture.’

‘Gladly. I could use a docile animal to pull the trap when Mrs Hawkins takes the nippers out to visit their granny. My horse is fine with me but he’s a bit temperamental when my wife takes the reins.’

‘Thank you, Ben. I’m in your debt,’ Effie said, blowing him a kiss as he hurried from the room.

‘I’m on his horse’s side,’ Tom muttered. ‘I’d bite the old hag if she took a whip to me.’

‘I brought up ten nippers,’ Betty said, ‘and I worked here until I was fit to drop, but I never spoke to my old man like that. He’d have taken his belt to me if I had.’

‘She’s a mean old crow,’ Tom said cheerily. ‘Can I have some more pie, please, Betty?’

Betty piled his plate with food. ‘You’ve paid for it, so you shall have it.’ She turned to Effie with a frown. ‘I know you’re worried, love, but you must eat something.’

Effie sank down on the chair, staring at the rapidly cooling meal. ‘I should never have come here, Betty. We could end up in the workhouse again if things go wrong.’

‘There, there, love. Don’t lose heart,’ Betty said hastily. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that.’

Effie looked up, meeting Betty’s anxious gaze with a stubborn lift of her chin. ‘I’ll do anything to keep us from that dreadful place. I won’t let Salter see me beaten. I won’t give in.’

Chapter Seventeen

BETTY’S TINY TERRACED
house in Phoebe Street overlooked the chemical works. The fumes from the factory had rotted the outside paint-work and eaten into the curtain material so that they hung in tatters at the windows. The whitewashed walls of the kitchen were yellowed by steam and grease from the range, and the ceiling was coated in a tarry mixture of tobacco smoke and soot. Betty’s husband, Fred, was employed in the factory as were their three elder sons, and they enjoyed a pipe of baccy after supper, sitting with their feet as close to the grate as they could get without setting the soles of their boots on fire.

Two of the daughters were in service and living away from home, and two of the three remaining sisters worked in the market gardens on Bow Common, bringing home little in the way of pay but a plentiful supply of vegetables deemed unfit for sale. The third daughter stayed at home to look after the two youngest boys who were not yet old enough
to attend the board school. With most of the family in full-time employment, the Crooke family were comparatively well off. They had adequate food and clothing and none of the children went barefoot. Fred Crooke was a silent, stolid and dependable sort of man, who said very little but seemed amiable enough, and did not complain when his wife brought three strangers into their home.

Effie was grateful for their hospitality but she felt that she was imposing on the family’s good nature. As it was, the house seemed to be bursting at the seams, and the sleeping arrangements were cramped and uncomfortable. In the small back bedroom, the three sisters shared a double bed, with the two youngest boys sleeping top to toe in a truckle bed beneath the window. Effie and Georgie shared a straw palliasse on the floor, and Tom was relegated to the downstairs parlour where the older Crooke brothers laid their heads for the night. On their first morning in Phoebe Street Tom appeared tousled-headed and bleary-eyed at breakfast. He confided to Effie later that he had barely slept a wink, having been kept awake at first by the brothers smoking cigarettes and chatting about the events of the day, which excluded him entirely, and then, when they finally settled down for the night, two of them snored so loudly that
it was like trying to sleep in a farmyard filled with pigs.

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