Nevertheless her heart was light as she left the house and climbed on to the trusty bicycle. At the end of the avenue she turned left and cycled down to Mitcham Road where shops were already opening up and workers were queuing for the trams in both directions.
A woman suddenly called to her from outside a newsagent’s. ‘Nurse Court! ’Ave yer got a minute? Can I ’ave a word with yer, please?’
Mabel braked and put one foot to the ground.
The woman was nervous and apologetic. ‘I think I might’ve fallen again, Nurse Court, it can’t be more ’n a month, but I been sick twice an’ the baby’s only seven months,’ she gabbled in an undertone. ‘Is there anythin’ ye can give me to take, like? I got five already, y’see, an’ with ’im bein’ laid orf from the brewery with ’is back, I don’t know as I could manage with another so soon.’ She licked her lips and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I know Mrs Court ’elps women out if they’re not too far gorn, but if there was somethin’ I could take to bring the flow on again, like – oh, Nurse, what can I do?’
What, indeed, could she do and what could Mabel say? Tell her to consult Mrs Court? Tell her to take a large dose of castor oil followed by a hot bath (in a house that probably had no bath) and jump up and down a hundred times, with or without a skipping rope? Gin? Slippery elm bark? Mandrake root? Tell her that what she was suggesting was a criminal offence in which Mabel could play no part at all?
In the end Mabel told her to apply to Mrs Court for advice, but refused to act as go-between. Remounting her bicycle she pedalled away, but the woman’s pale, anxious face floated before her mind’s eye, dulling the happy satisfaction of the Hollis confinement. It bothered her.
‘Good girl.’ Mimi nodded on hearing about Mrs Hollis’s baby. ‘I’ll visit there this mornin’ and check on ’em. No need for yer to go back there today.’
It would be Mimi who presented the bill for attendance at delivery, but Mabel did not complain. The twenty shillings she received each week was entirely her own to spend as she chose: no rent to pay, no food to buy. She had never been so comfortably off.
A few days later Mimi called her into the parlour. ‘What’s this yer been sayin’ to that poor creature May Shotter?’
Mabel was puzzled. ‘Who did yer say, Grandmother?’
‘May Shotter, lives in Mitcham Road, five brats under seven, baby not seven months an’ a layabout husband. Remember now?’
Mabel blushed as if caught out in some misdemeanour. ‘Oh, yes. The one who—’
‘The one who asked yer if there was anythin’ she could take and yer kindly referred her to me. That’s the one.’ Mimi’s eyes were hard as she looked straight at Mabel. ‘Yer don’t have anythin’ to do with my other cases, so I don’t expect yer to go around Tootin’ recommendin’ me to all an’ sundry who wants helpin’ out.’
‘I didn’t recommend yer, Grandmother, I only—’ Mabel began in confusion.
‘Yer told ’er to ask me, that’s enough. Don’t do it again, d’ye hear?’
‘Yes – I mean no, Grandmother. I’m sorry.’
‘I select my cases very carefully and none of ’em from around here. Too close to home for one thing and nothin’ to pay me with. I ’ave to charge danger money for that sort o’ thing. So if anybody else asks yer, the answer’s no, I don’t do it, see?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry,’ Mabel repeated, feeling thoroughly uneasy. Now that she knew Mrs Shotter had asked for advice and got nowhere, she felt that she had let the woman down. She stared with downcast eyes at the floor, wondering if she was dismissed.
Mimi cleared her throat and spoke a little less severely. ‘As it ’appens, I sent her off to Dimmock, that old rogue of a chemist on the Broadway. He might sell ’er some o’ this herbal extract, comes from a mould that grows on rye, ’e says, an’ makes the womb go into spasm. I wouldn’t want the responsibility meself, but it’ll be up to ’im if ’e takes a chance on killin’ the mother along o’ the child. So there y’are, Mabel, no more sendin’ ’em to me, d’ye understand?’
Thus cautioned, Mabel made her escape, unable to shake off a sense of guilt.
Two days later she was accosted by a chalk-faced but grateful Mrs Shotter. ‘Thanks ever so much, Nurse Court – nearly did me in, that stuff, but it did the trick!’
And Mabel was ashamed all over again, just for feeling thankful too. How long would it be before poor Mrs Shotter ‘fell’ again, she wondered; the incident had given her a disturbing insight into the lives of women living constantly in fear of further pregnancies. But remembering her mother’s horror at Mimi’s activities and her own instinctive recoil from the very thought of taking the life of an unborn child, even her sympathy for Mrs Shotter seemed wrong, an indication of falling standards.
As for what Harry Drover would say if he knew about this . . . and the truth about Jack’s death . . . and why she’d had to leave the Rescue in a hurry, for fear that she might have had a shameful disease . . . it did not bear thinking about. He would want nothing to do with her now.
At least there was Ada’s wedding to look forward to and Mabel heard that it was to be a big do. Thomas Tilling and Sons were engaged to supply one of their horse-drawn wedding carriages to take the bride from her home to St Philip’s church for three o’clock, and then the happy couple would drive to their reception at Woodlands, one of the fine old mansions on Clapham Common’s Northside. The guest list included practically all the staff at the Lipton’s store where Ada’s father and future husband were manager and cashier, but Mabel looked forward above all to seeing Maudie there.
The great day dawned with an early mist over the city that rose and cleared to fine, unclouded September sunshine. Mimi had graciously given Mabel the whole day off and breakfast time brought her a wonderful surprise: another letter from George, with good news. ‘Dear Mabel,’ he had written. ‘I send my love and hope your well. MacBanes is a big prairie farm with grainfields as far as you can look. The old man is a hard case but the wife not so bad. She has give me new sherts and pants are a bit big but Im growing quick. Davy is the best frend I ever had more like a brother and stands up to the old man. We work hard and get brown in the sun is very hot. I think of you Mabel and Albert and Daisy and Alice and Harry but I am better of here. With love and God bless you from your brother George Court.’
Mabel kissed the pencilled scrawl, an undoubtedly truthful reflection of George’s new life. Whoever Davy Hoek was and whatever he had been, she blessed him from her heart. It was the best possible beginning to the day, as she confided to a sympathetic Miss Lawton.
At twenty to three the church was already filling up. Mabel knelt down beside Miss Carter from the Babies Mission and said a prayer for the health and happiness of Ada and Arthur, adding her thanks for George’s letter. Maud Ling, fetchingly dressed in blue and white silk with a flowery hat and matching folded parasol, came in with Charlie and sat behind them. She caused quite a stir, especially when Ada entered on her father’s arm, all in white with a gauzy veil over her head.
‘Ooh, look at ’er, Charlie – ain’t she a picture?’
Mabel caught Miss Carter’s eye. Could this vision be the chatty, giggly girl who used to read racy novels during the children’s rest hour?
Nobody noticed a slightly built young man with a Salvation Army cap who entered the church just after the ceremony began and quietly took a place at the back.
The bride and groom made their promises, and were duly pronounced man and wife. The organ pealed out the wedding march as they progressed down the aisle and out into the sunshine where a photographer waited to take a picture.
Maud rushed to Mabel’s side. ‘Don’t she look a treat, eh? When’re we goin’ to do the same, Mabel? Hey, why ain’t yer wiv yer young man?’
Mabel shook her head. ‘He’s not here, Maudie.’
‘’E jolly well is, y’know! Look be’ind yer, over there – must’ve been sittin’ at the back. Look, ’e’s as moonstruck as ever for yer!’
&n
bsp; Mabel froze. Yes, Harry Drover stood just a few yards away, his brown eyes fixed on her. Whatever should she do?
‘Wotcher, ‘Arry!’ Maud called out, running up to him and planting a smacking kiss on his cheek. ‘Now go an’ pass that on to Mabel. She’s waitin’ for yer to take ’er up to the big do!’
Red-faced with embarrassment but warmed by Maud’s exuberance, Harry hesitantly walked over to where Mabel stood. ‘Hello, Mabel,’ he said shyly. ‘It was nice o’ them to invite me, an’ I’m so glad to see yer.’
Mabel’s heart was pounding as she lifted her eyes to his. How handsome his honest, open face appeared to her, more kind and sensitive by far than Arthur’s or Charlie’s. But he was not for her, not now that everything had changed. ‘I thought ye’d be at Clapton College,’ she muttered and the words sounded cold.
‘Well, yes, I am, but I’ve come over for this,’ he said, smiling with careful politeness. ‘How are yer, Mabel? I heard ye’d moved to Tooting.’
She swallowed. ‘Yes, I, er, I live with my grandmother.’
‘Oh, yes, Mrs Court. Er, have yer heard anythin’ o’ George, Mabel?’
At the mention of her brother’s name she immediately wanted to share the news she’d received that very day. ‘Oh, yes, a letter came this mornin’ – he sounds as if he’s happy, workin’ on a big farm in Alberta. An’ he’s got this good friend Davy Hoek, it’s a Dutch name, an’ George says—’ She stopped, realising that she was gabbling.
Harry noticed how her eyes had brightened when she spoke of George. ‘I’m very glad to hear that, Mabel,’ he began and she dreaded that any minute now he’d start asking her why George had been sent so far away.
She abruptly turned to Maud, her eyes pleading to be rescued, and her friend laughingly obliged, taking her arm. ‘C’mon, Mabel, let’s walk up togevver an’ let these two gents foller on. I got lots to tell yer!’ she said gaily, though in fact she had just as much to ask.
The bride and groom having left in their carriage, followed by the more important guests in their conveyances, the less important now began walking up to Northside.
Maud bent her head close, so that their hats touched. ‘Never a dull moment at Bryanston Square, Mabel. ’Er Ladyship’s ’avin’ the time of ’er life. I worry abaht ’er sometimes, to tell the trufe – she sails awful close to the wind, if yer get me meanin’, and I ’ave me work cut aht coverin’ up for ’er wiv ol’ Bald-’ead. She couldn’t do wivout me, an’ that’s a fact.’
Mabel had to smile at the idea of the brilliant society hostess being dependent upon a doting cockney maidservant and Maudie’s touching sense of responsibility towards her mistress.
‘Honestly, Mabel, I wouldn’t dare take the sort o’ risks she does. Charlie knows just how far ’e can go wiv me, an’ no farver. No sense in arskin’ for trouble, is there?’
‘Be careful, Maudie, ye’d be right up the creek if she got caught.’ To Mabel Her Ladyship sounded both reckless and unprincipled, for all her beauty.
Maudie looked behind her. ‘’Op it, bofe o’ yer,’ she ordered the two young men. ‘Me an’ Mabel wants a bit o’ privacy. See yer at Woodlands, right?’
When they were a little apart from the other walkers, Maud whispered a question. ‘What’s up wiv poor ol’ ‘Arry? Summat’s wrong, i’n’it? Go on, yer can tell yer auntie Maud. Is it ’cause o’ the Sally Army?’
Mabel almost groaned out loud. To confide in her old friend would be such a relief. ‘Ye’ve just said it, Maudie,’ she answered, her voice shaking. ‘I can’t marry into the Salvation Army, not after what’s happened – how could I?’
‘Yer mean – yer muvver doin’ ’erself in, an’ yer farver takin’ a header dahn the stairs, like?’ Maud’s tone was gentle but meaningful and Mabel nodded wretchedly.
‘And . . . and they both had a . . . a horrible disease, Maudie, and the doctor thought I might’ve got it an’ all, only he tested me blood and I hadn’t, but—’
‘Christ, Mabel, d’yer mean the pox? Oh, my Gawd, yer poor muvver, no wonder she – oh, Mabel, this is bad. An’ poor little George, did ’e—?’
‘I can’t talk about it, Maudie, ’cause of our doctor who helped us out an’ saved George – oh, Maudie, everythin’s changed, can’t yer see?’
‘Sh, Mabel don’t get het up – as a matter o’ fact I fought it might be summat like that,’ said Maud quietly, tightening her hold on Mabel’s arm. ‘Listen, I jus’ want to ask yer one more question, that’s all. D’ye still love ‘Arry?’
‘How can yer ask me such a thing?’ cried Mabel in rising agitation. ‘What’s it matter anyway? He couldn’t stay in the Army if he married me, could he? And it’s his life, Maudie, his father and mother and sister an’ her husband, they’re all in it. An’ more ’n that, he says it’s what the Lord wants him to do!’
She was on the verge of tears, and Maudie quickly cut in. ‘A’right, Mabel, ye’ve answered me question. Don’t upset yerself any more, let’s just enjoy Ada’s weddin’. Look, we’re nearly there – cor! Nearly as posh as Bryanston Square! Nah then, no more sad talk, an’ that’s an order. C’mon, let’s find the fellers – that’s if they ain’t fahnd anuvver couple o’ gals while we bin jabberin’!’
Maud’s determined gaiety concealed an aching pity for the friend whose outburst had so plainly proclaimed her continuing, despairing love for Harry Drover. And as for that shocking bit she’d let out about the pox, what a thing to happen to her, of all people. Poor, poor Mabel . . .
Through the arched gate of Woodlands the guests progressed into an imposing entrance hall and spacious reception room where the bridal pair were waiting to greet the foot soldiers, as Charlie called them.
‘Thanks for coming, Mabel.’ Ada smiled, enveloping her in a cloud of crumpled white muslin. ‘It was Arthur’s idea to ask Harry, so’s you an’ him can get together again!’
And there he was, standing alone and looking towards her while guests mingled around them, chatting and sipping wine from trays handed round by waiters. He only had eyes for her and she stood rooted to the spot as he came to her side. ‘I hope ye’ll let me take yer in to tea or supper or whatever they call it, Mabel. The food’s all laid out in the next room along,’ he said pleasantly, clearly attempting to put her at her ease.
She looked up at him helplessly. Maud was nowhere in sight.
‘I’ve missed yer so much, Mabel. Can yer give me any idea o’ how long it’ll be before yer feel able to – I mean, are yer feelin’ any better yet from the trouble ye’ve been through?’
Still she could not speak, could not turn away from this dear friend, this young man who adored her as much as ever. They stood simply looking into each other’s eyes and Harry saw the love in hers as plainly as if she had declared it. And yet her words were a denial. ‘No. No. Please don’t ask.’
At that moment there was a sudden commotion in the entrance hall and heads turned to look at a black-clad figure who had come in. With an unbecoming black hat perched on her head and glancing distractedly round her, this strange-looking woman was clearly no wedding guest; on the contrary, superstitious onlookers might have thought her an ill omen, a messenger with bad news.
Good heavens, thought Mabel, it’s Miss Lawton. She put a hand to her throat. What new trouble was this? Leaving Harry’s side, she hurried towards the woman in black. ‘What is it, Miss Lawton? Why’re yer here?’
‘I . . . I’m sorry, Mabel, just when you’re, er, but Mrs Court says you’re to come at once. I’ve got a c-cab outside,’ faltered Miss Lawton, wringing her hands.
‘But why? What’s happened? For God’s sake, tell me – out with it!’
Maudie had sidled up to Mabel, overcome with curiosity. ‘What’s up?’
‘Sh, Maudie, let Miss Lawton speak.’
‘I . . . I’m sorry, Mabel, but your little sister – little Daisy—’
‘Daisy? Oh, my God, what’s happened to her?’ Mabel’s eyes dilated with fear.
‘It . . . it’s
all right, Mabel, she’s at . . . at Mrs Court’s house. She’s run away.’
‘Run away? From Belhampton, yer mean? All on her own?’
‘Yes, sh-she caught a train to Waterloo Station and then got on a Battersea bus, but didn’t have enough money – she went to the police station. She’s very upset, and M-Mrs Court says you must come and . . . and deal with her.’
‘Oh, my poor little Daisy!’ Mabel put her hands to her head. ‘I’ll have to go, Maudie, now, this minute – did yer say ye’d got a cab, Miss Lawton?’
‘Ye-es, Mabel, it’s waiting. M-Mrs Court sent me in it. I’m so sorry.’
Harry appeared at Mabel’s side. ‘Let me come with yer, Mabel,’ he begged. ‘Daisy’ll trust me, it’ll be easier if I’m with yer.’
Mabel turned round and faced him squarely. Already overwrought by what had passed between her and Maud, her head was throbbing and she had had nothing to eat since a light breakfast. This latest blow was too much to bear and her self-control gave way altogether. ‘For Christ’s sake leave me alone, will yer?’ she shrieked. ‘Go back to yer college and find a Salvation Army girl to marry! Can’t yer see that everythin’s changed?’
His face paled. ‘I haven’t changed, Mabel, nor will I ever,’ he said levelly. ‘I shan’t marry any girl but you.’
‘Then ye’ll stay single all yer life. Oh, God, Harry, can’t yer see I’m savin’ yer a life o’ disgrace an’ misery? Just go away, can’t yer? Go away!’
Maudie, Charlie, Miss Carter, the bridal couple and other guests watched in horrified disbelief as Mabel grabbed Miss Lawton’s arm and dragged her from the room, through the entrance hall and out to where the cab stood waiting on Northside.
A Child's Voice Calling Page 29
