by Ruthie Lewis
‘He can do his sums and knows his times tables, and is making progress with long division. Indeed, he knows as much about numbers by this point as I do.’
‘Or I. But perhaps our maths master can make something of him. Very well, Miss Perrow. We will examine your young prodigy at the start of next term, and provided he is as good as you say he is, we will take him on. We will waive his fees, and he can board with myself and my wife until other provision can be made.’
*
Grace took the train back to Rotherhithe and walked home through the early winter dusk, the shadows lit by sparks from chimneys and flares from the engine works, her heart singing. She did not tell Jimmy what she had done. He loved school and she was certain he hated his life at home, but the prospect of uprooting him from the only home he had ever known would still come as a shock. She needed to work up to the idea slowly.
That evening after the children were in bed, she told George about her visit to Lewisham. He rubbed his chin, not saying anything. ‘What is wrong?’ she asked.
They were sitting in the little lamplit parlour, where the fumes from the coal fire competed with the smell of damp. ‘You know I’ve never interfered in anything you do at the school, Grace,’ George said. ‘But, are you sure what you’re doing is right?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘How are you going to get this boy away from his family? You can’t just kidnap him, you know.’
‘I wasn’t going to,’ said Grace, a little tartly. ‘I shall persuade him to go of his own free will.’
‘I reckon his parents will have something to say about that,’ George said. ‘Ben Wilson isn’t going to let his son go easy, and from what you said about this Sara woman, I reckon she won’t neither. And Jimmy is young. A magistrate would probably just send him back to his parents.’
Grace’s heart sank. ‘I have to do something, George,’ she said. ‘It’s not enough for Jimmy to go to school, he needs to get out and away from his family. Otherwise, he’ll end up in one of the gangs.’
George looked disbelieving. ‘Jimmy, in a gang? He’s too soft. He wouldn’t last five minutes in a gang.’
‘Yes,’ said Grace. ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.’
*
Two days later, Grace and a group of children, including Albert, the twins, Rebecca Berton and Jimmy, were on their way home from school. A group of boys, who had been gathered in a little huddle around the fence at the back of the factory, turned suddenly and began walking towards them, spreading out in a line to bar their way. The oldest was probably about thirteen, Grace thought, the youngest eight or nine, but there was nothing childlike about their faces, or the cudgels and rough-honed knives they held in their hands.
‘There he is,’ said one of the older boys. He wore a man’s coat that hung down to his knees, the elbows worn through, and a shapeless cap on his head. ‘Hullo, Jim. What you doin’ here, then?’
Grace glanced at Jimmy and saw he had gone white with fright. ‘Cat got your tongue?’ the other boy jeered. ‘Come on, Jim. Speak up. What you doin’ with this bunch of babies? Or maybe you’re a baby too. A little cry-baby, just like them.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ snapped Grace. ‘Leave him alone, and get out of our way.’
The boys didn’t move. ‘That’s big talk comin’ from you, missy,’ said the one in the long coat. ‘You want to be careful talkin’ like that. You need to show more respect when you talk to a man.’
‘When I meet a man, I will consider it,’ said Grace, and she took a couple of steps towards him. ‘Meanwhile, boy, you will show me some respect and get out of my way. Or do I have to turn you over my knee and spank you?’
Some of her pupils sniggered. So did a couple of the gang boys, nudging each other and pointing at their leader who stood and stared at Grace, discomfited. After a moment he turned his head and spat deliberately on the ground, then motioned to his fellows and turned and walked away. The others trotted after him, some glancing at Grace and still laughing. Feeling much less calm than she looked, Grace turned to her charges. ‘Come, children. Let us be on our way.’
When they reached Bell Lane, Jimmy refused to stay for lunch and ran off without another word. Upset, Grace ushered Albert and the twins inside and went to prepare lunch. The twins played happily in the parlour but Albert came into the kitchen and stood beside her, silently. He knew she had been in danger, and wanted to protect her.
She heard the squeal of delight as the twins ran to greet their father. A moment later George came into the kitchen, a giggling child tucked under each arm, but when he saw Grace’s face he set the children down and came over to her. ‘What has happened?’
Grace told him, and he nodded soberly. ‘I know the lads you mean. Proper little thugs, they are.’ He paused. ‘Sounds like they were waiting for you, Grace.’
‘Yes,’ said Grace. ‘I’m sure they were. They know Jimmy is at the school, and decided to bully him. If those boys know, it won’t be long before his parents know too. George, I’ve got to get him away from here. I’m really worried for him now.’
‘I’m not worrying about Jimmy,’ George said. ‘I’m worried about you. Who’s going to protect you?’
‘I will,’ said Albert stoutly.
George smiled and ruffled his hair. ‘You’re a brave lad. But it’ll need more than you.’ He looked back at Grace. ‘Perhaps we should get a dog. It could protect you, and the other kids and the school, too. Those little ruffians might try to get at Jimmy by attacking the school.’
‘And how would we feed a dog?’ Grace demanded. ‘We can only just about afford to feed ourselves.’
George shrugged. ‘It was just a thought.’
But what he had said about the gang of boys attacking the school worried Grace. That afternoon she asked Mrs Berton to keep an eye on the children and put on a coat and hurried back to the school. Most of the gang girls were still asleep around the warm stove. Mary was asleep too. It was the first time Grace had seen her eyes closed, but she sat up quickly when the canvas flap opened, moving her body around to protect her brother. She relaxed when she saw Grace, and took her hand away from the hilt of her knife.
‘May I talk to you?’ Grace asked quietly.
Mary nodded. She listened in silence while Grace explained about the bullies, her eyes never leaving Grace’s face. ‘I’m worried these boys might try to vandalise the school. Will you and the others keep watch? If you do, I am quite happy for you to continue sleeping here.’
Mary nodded again. ‘We’ll look after it. Me and the Angels.’
‘The Angels?’
The girl gestured around at the others. ‘The gang. That’s what we call ourselves. It’s by way of being a joke,’ she added.
‘I assumed as much,’ Grace said dryly. She studied the girl for a moment. ‘How old are you, Mary?’
The girl shrugged one shoulder. Grace considered. ‘How many summers can you remember? Tick them off on your fingers as you think of them.’
Mary frowned and began to count slowly on her fingers. When she reached eight she stopped. Add another two that she is too young to remember, thought Grace, and that makes ten. She looks older, but hardship does that to children. It hollows their cheeks and lines their faces, and makes them old before their time.
‘What happened?’ Grace asked. ‘How did you end up with the Angels?’
Mary shrugged again. ‘My da worked at the docks, on the other side of the river. He was killed, some sort of accident; I don’t know what happened. Ma was sick and couldn’t work, so some men came and said we had to leave our home. We went to the workhouse. They wouldn’t let Joe and I see Ma, and then one day they said she was dead. I think that place killed her.’
‘Very likely it did,’ Grace said softly. ‘What did you do?’
‘I grabbed Joe and we ran away. We crossed the river hoping no one would find us and bring us back. We met the Angels and fell in with them. We been living on the streets ever since. That’s all there
is to tell.’
‘How have you survived?’
Mary looked perplexed. ‘What do you do for food?’ Grace asked.
‘Steal it, mostly. Like that day in the market.’
Grace thought of Mr Hogg, establishing a kitchen to feed his pauper children. What I wouldn’t give for the money to feed these children as well as teach them, she thought.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked. ‘When you grow up, I mean.’
‘I want to join the Forty Elephants,’ said Mary.
‘And who are they?’
‘A gang of flash morts from over west, round Elephant and Castle. They go up to the West End and rob society women and steal their jewellery. They’re rich, and dress in fine clothes and never go hungry. If I join them, I’ll be rich too, and I can look after little Joe forever.’
‘That’s all you want to do? Be a thief?’
‘Why not?’ Mary asked simply.
Grace could make no answer to that. ‘Thank you for looking after the school,’ she said, and turned to go.
‘Why do you do it, miss?’ Mary asked. ‘This school, I mean. What do these kids matter to you?’
Grace paused. She thought about trying to explain the value of education and how it opened up doors and allowed people to be free of their past and go out and discover the world and themselves, but she was not sure how much of this Mary would understand. ‘I’m trying to give them hope,’ she said finally.
‘Hope for what?’
‘For whatever they want, Mary. For whatever they dream of.’ Grace gestured towards the sleeping boy. ‘What does Joe dream of, do you think?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mary. ‘He hasn’t spoken a word since Ma died. You’re a good woman, Miss Perrow. But you can’t help every kid. Jimmy’s da and brother will come and take him, sooner or later. The gangs want him, you see.’
‘Why would the gangs want a boy like Jimmy?’
‘All the big gangs want kids, ’specially boys. They toughen ’em up, see, make ’em hard. They become soldiers in the gangs, ready to rob and steal and cut people up. Jimmy’ll probably end up with the Captain’s lot.’
Grace’s heart sank. ‘Do you mean the Bull Head Gang?’
‘Yes, miss. They’re always wantin’ new soldiers. I expect Jimmy’s da has already promised him, when he is older.’
‘Well, he won’t have him,’ Grace said grimly. ‘I shall see to that.’
*
But Jimmy did not come the next day, or the next. Grace walked to Hanover Court after dinner and knocked at the door of the Wilson house. There was no answer. She knocked several more times, but still the house remained silent, its windows dark in the December dusk. A neighbour looked out to see who was knocking. She slammed the door tight when she saw Grace.
‘Jimmy,’ Grace called quietly. ‘It’s Miss Perrow. Can you come to the door?’
She thought she heard a faint noise in the house, but when she listened again, all was silent once more. Worried sick by the thought of what might have happened to Jimmy, she turned and walked home.
*
Another week passed without any sign of Jimmy, and Grace was beginning to grow very worried about him. Then one morning, after George had left for work and as she was getting the children ready for school, there came an urgent knock at the door. When she opened it, one of the Angels was in the street, huddling up against the wall to stay out of the wind.
Grace was getting to know the girls now, and knew some of their names. This one, with a perpetually runny nose, was called Missy. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Mary asks you to come quick, miss.’
Alarm leaped in Grace’s mind. ‘What is it? Has something happened at the school?’
‘Yes, miss.’
Leaving the children at home, Grace hurried to the school. When she arrived, she was horrified by what she saw. The sailcloth covering the arch and protecting them from the weather had been slashed to ribbons and part of it had been torn down. Inside, desks and benches were overturned, slates and chalk broken and hurled across the room, printed reading sheets torn up and scattered on the ground. The cabinet of books had been smashed open and the books thrown around the room too, some of them with covers ripped off. The stove had been knocked over and the chimney dangled from the roof of the arch, swaying a little in the wind.
Mary was there, holding her brother by the hand, and a couple of other girls with her. ‘Who did this?’ Grace asked. ‘The boys?’
‘No, miss,’ said Mary. ‘It was men that came and did this. Men from the Bull Head Gang. The same lot as Jimmy’s da.’
Grace’s heart sank. Sara must have discovered that Jimmy had returned to school and told her husband, and he and his mates from the gang had decided to smash up the school. ‘We couldn’t stop ’em, miss,’ said one of the other girls. ‘They told us to get out. Threatened to break our necks if we didn’t.’
Mary looked steadily at Grace. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I promised we would keep it safe.’
‘Oh, my dear child,’ Grace said. ‘I asked you to watch out for a gang of boys. You could hardly stand up to grown men.’ She bent and began collecting books.
Mary let go of Joe’s hand and came to help her. ‘What will you do?’ the girl asked.
‘Rebuild it and start again,’ Grace said. ‘I’m not giving up.’
‘You will give up, if you know what’s good for you,’ a man’s voice said.
Grace straightened and turned sharply. The man who stood where the door of the school had been was powerfully built, nearly as broad as he was tall, and he wore a rough coat with a heavy leather apron and cap, the kind the deal porters used in the docks when carrying baulks of timber, to protect their heads and shoulders from splinters. He stood with his thumbs tucked into his belt, a knife in a sheath at his side.
‘Who are you?’ Grace demanded.
‘None of your business,’ said the man, and he hawked and spat at her feet. ‘I’ve got a message for you from the Captain. Don’t go messin’ about with things that are none of your concern. Leave this school nonsense alone, leave the kiddies alone, and get back to that fellow of yours.’
‘He’s not my fellow,’ snapped Grace. ‘He is my brother-in-law.’
‘Sure,’ said the man, with contempt in his voice. ‘Whatever you want to call it, dolly. But stay away from this school, and leave our kids alone.’
‘Who are you?’ Grace demanded again. ‘Are you Jimmy’s father?’
The man hawked and spat again. ‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I ain’t Long Ben. I’m just a friend, see. Now, I’ll say it again for you, dolly. Keep away from kids like Jimmy.’
A sudden wave of horror flooded over Grace. ‘Where is Jimmy? What have you done with him?’
‘You ain’t going to see Jimmy again,’ said the man. He turned and walked away, leaving Grace standing and watching him, sick with fear.
Leaving the Angels behind, she hurried to Hanover Court as fast as her long skirts and the slippery, muddy streets would allow. This time the door was flung open and Sara stood in the doorway, her face and eyes red, her arms crossed over her chest.
‘Why?’ she shouted before Grace could speak. ‘Why did you try to take him from us?’
‘I didn’t,’ Grace said, though a guilty voice in the back of her mind told her this was exactly what she had been trying to do. ‘I was only trying to give him what he wanted, Sara. Education, and a little hope for the future.’
‘Why?’ Sara shouted again. ‘Why should he have hope when the rest of us don’t? Why should he get to go free when the rest of us are stuck in this hellhole for the rest of our lives? Why, you little cow? You tell me the answer, and maybe I won’t thump the daylights out of you.’
Grace realised that Sara was drunk, and also that she had been crying. That shocked her; she had not thought Sara capable of motherly feeling. ‘Where is Jimmy?’ she demanded.
‘Gone,’ said Sara. ‘They’ve taken him away. Somewhere yo
u’ll never find him. Now get out of here! Get away from me, and stay away, do you hear? Or by God, I really will smash you.’
She raised her fists. Remembered fear washed over Grace, and she backed away, frightened while at the same time ashamed of her fear. ‘He’s gone,’ Sara said. ‘He’s gone, and he’ll never come back. What’s done can’t be undone. Leave it alone. For God’s sake, just leave us alone.’
*
‘Maybe this time you’ll learn to obey,’ the Captain’s voice said.
I was in a pit with a cover over the top, dark as hell. There was mud and water under my feet, and the stink was something awful. I pounded my fists on the cover, pulling at it, trying to shift it, but it was anchored solid. There wasn’t a chink of light anywhere in the pit, just the dark, grabbing at me, trying to smother me.
‘I promise,’ I said. I was crying hard, blubbering and pleading. ‘I promise. I’ll do whatever you ask, but please let me out.’
‘No, Jimmy. You’ll stay there for a good long while, until you’ve truly learned to do as you’re told.’
I couldn’t think. I could hardly breathe. ‘Please,’ I said. ‘Please.’
‘Think,’ the Captain said. ‘Think about your future, Jimmy. You were promised to us, long ago, and we own you.’
I heard him walk away. I was alone, and the invisible fingers of the dark were around my neck, trying to strangle me. I sat choking, shivering, too frightened even to cry. My ma had cried when I was taken away. I was surprised, because I didn’t think she cared enough to cry about me.
Now, I clung to the hope she might come and rescue me. I didn’t really think she would, she was too scared of Da and the Captain, but I had to hope. Miss Perrow taught me how important hope is.
Oh, please, Mummy, please. Come and find me. I’m so afraid of the dark.
Chapter 8
Back in Bell Lane, Grace burst into tears. Albert and the twins watched her in concern, for she seldom cried in front of them. George, just returned from work, put a comforting arm around her and held her close for a moment, patting her on the back.
‘I’m sorry,’ Grace sniffed. ‘But I can’t help but grieve for him, George. It’s so sad to think of all the things he could have had, and all the things he’ll miss.’
