by Evie Grace
On leaving the station, they passed the city wall with the Dane John Gardens above them. On reaching Castle Street, they wended their way through Beer Cart Lane and Stour Street where the houses seemed to be built on top of each other, blocking out the light.
‘This can’t be right,’ Eleanor said, trying to pick her way around the puddles and excrement with the bath chair.
Violet wanted to put her handkerchief across her nose to block out the stench of rotten eggs, but she had too many bags, and she didn’t dare put them down even for a second, not only because of the filth underfoot, but because of the people. There were so many of them, staring at the strange entourage, watching and waiting. She didn’t feel safe among the beggars and lunatics, and the barefoot boys dressed in their rags with their ravenous eyes. One limped over to them.
‘I’ll ’elp yer with yer bags, missus.’
‘No, thank you.’ She clutched them more tightly as he tried to snatch them away. ‘No! Go away!’
‘Give us a penny then … an ’a’penny? Some bread? Just a bite.’
‘Leave us alone or I’ll scream the place down,’ she hissed.
‘I’ll ’ave my ma put a curse on you,’ the boy said darkly.
‘Keep walking, Eleanor,’ Violet urged, shocked by his threat and the squalor. ‘I’m sorry you have to listen to this, Mama. We’ll soon be at Aunt Felicity’s. Don’t you worry.’
They continued past Eastbridge Hospital and the Weavers House on St Peter’s Street where Violet saw a landmark she recognised from past occasions when the Rayfields had taken a coach to Canterbury. It was a medieval gatehouse, built from ragstone, with an arch through the middle and battlements on top. It reminded her of Arvin and his chateau.
‘Eleanor, it’s the Westgate Towers,’ she said, returning to the present. ‘All we have to do is go along St Dunstan’s and we’ll be in Orchard Street. Let me push Mama now. You take the bags.’ They swapped places, and she gave the bath chair a good shove to get it going again.
‘I wish more than anything that we could have stayed at home,’ Eleanor said sadly, as they stepped aside to allow a cart filled with squawking chickens to pass. ‘How did we sink to this? We had everything we needed and more, and now we are homeless.’
‘We have Mama and each other.’
‘And Dickens.’
‘And Dickens,’ Violet echoed. ‘Here we are. Our aunt’s house is just along the road.’
They stopped outside a handsome yellow brick house which had a green door with a stained-glass fanlight above.
‘Ring the bell then,’ Violet said.
Her sister rang four times before their aunt came to the door with her hair tied back, and her silk wrapper pulled tightly around her slender frame.
‘What are you thinking of, turning up unannounced on my doorstep like a pair of bad pennies?’ Aunt Felicity’s face turned pink with annoyance when she saw them, and deep scarlet when she noticed the bath chair. ‘What on earth possessed you to drag an invalid all this way?’
‘We didn’t drag her. We took the train,’ Eleanor said.
‘Patience, my poor dear.’ She pushed past her nieces, leaned beneath the hood of the bath chair and touched her sister’s face. ‘Oh, you are cold … so cold.’ She uttered a blood-curdling scream, loud enough to bring the neighbours to their windows. ‘Oh my lord. She is dead!’
Violet’s heart missed a beat. ‘She can’t be. She was alive when we put her on the train.’
‘And when we took her off,’ Eleanor contributed.
‘Was she? I didn’t check.’
‘Aunt Felicity, you are hysterical.’
‘You are mistaken,’ Violet said, refusing to believe her. Eleanor hadn’t devoted the past few months to nursing their mother, only for her to go and die on them now.
‘Oh no, I’ve paid my respects to the dearly departed often enough to know …’ Their aunt turned to where Jane had appeared behind her with her dog in her arms. ‘Fetch a mirror immediately.’
‘Yes, Mama,’ Jane said, frowning. As she put the dog down, he ran forward and started yapping at the cat, who spat and hissed from the basket.
‘We have a mirror here,’ Violet said, scrabbling through their luggage to extract it while Eleanor picked the basket up out of the dog’s reach, and Jane looked on. Violet gave the mirror to her aunt and pulled the hood of the bath chair down.
‘Oh, Mama,’ she gasped when she saw that her eyes were wide open, and her mouth contorted as if she was about to give her a good telling-off.
Aunt Felicity held the mirror to Mama’s face, and Violet could only watch for the tell-tale frosting of the glass, with her hand across her mouth to hold back a cry of anguish.
‘She is gone,’ her aunt whispered. ‘Oh, my dear sister, what happened to you?’ She turned to face Violet and Eleanor, her eyes flashing with distress and fury. ‘You have killed her. Explain yourselves.’
‘We had nowhere else to go,’ Violet stammered. ‘The bailiffs put us out of the house today. I didn’t know what to do – I thought it best to come to you. You’re the only family we have left …’
‘You’d better bring her inside,’ Aunt Felicity said, her voice like ice. ‘We must decide what is to be done.’
Jane recaptured the dog, and Aunt Felicity took the cat basket and left it in the hall. Violet helped Eleanor push the bath chair through to the parlour.
‘We must send for the doctor.’ Aunt Felicity wrung her hands. ‘He will advise us. Jane, go and ask Annie to fetch him.’
‘I can go myself,’ Jane offered.
‘We can go together,’ Eleanor said.
‘No, I don’t want my daughter mixed up in this. Annie will go. She’s in the scullery, washing the dishes.’
Jane hurried off to the back of the house from where Violet heard exclamations of shock, horror and, ‘Well, I never did!’
‘She’ll go straight away.’ Jane rejoined them.
‘Thank you,’ Aunt Felicity said. ‘Now, we must decide what to do with the two of you. Where is Ottilie? Why is she not with you?’
‘She’s married. We went to her wedding only this morning.’ Violet couldn’t help thinking that her mind was playing tricks on her because it felt like a lifetime ago.
‘To whom?’
‘John Chittenden,’ Eleanor said. ‘Ottilie said it was the happiest day of her life … and now we’re going to have to send word that our dear mother has fallen asleep.’
‘Oh, my goodness. What a peculiar state of affairs! They are staying on in Dover, I presume.’
‘They’ve gone to London. John has broken away from his father.’
‘Then I wish them luck – they’re going to need it. Ottilie has made her bed and now she must lie in it. As for you two …’ Aunt Felicity glared at them. ‘Eleanor, you can stay for as long as you wish – I do this for your dead mother’s sake. But Violet, you and the cat must go. I can’t have you here.’
‘Why not? We’re family,’ Violet said. ‘Aren’t families supposed to look out for each other?’
‘I’ll do my duty by my sister. I’ll make sure she’s treated with respect and buried with dignity – even though she brought this on herself by marrying Sidney, whom I always regarded as a most unsuitable husband. She would have him, though, and look where it got her, taking her last breath in the compartment of a train.’
Violet didn’t like to enlighten her about the guard’s van. She felt bad enough about that already.
‘Eleanor, you will make a gentle companion and maid for your cousin.’
‘I won’t stay without my sister – and the cat,’ Eleanor said. ‘Mama adored him.’
‘I won’t have that filthy, flea-ridden creature in my house – besides, the dog will have him for breakfast. You can let him go down by the river to fend for himself. As for you, Violet, you’re asking the impossible. The scandal isn’t over, is it? You are with child. I have to ask – is it Mr Brooke’s?’
‘What are you suggesting?
That because I was wronged, I have no morals?’ Violet was distraught. ‘It’s come to a pretty pass when your aunt considers you a harlot.’
‘How dare you speak in such a way!’ her aunt exclaimed.
‘You are with child?’ Eleanor said, her eyes wide with disbelief.
‘Yes,’ Violet said, in tears. ‘Mr Brooke left me with one more little surprise, something I can do absolutely nothing about. It is cruel of you to lay the blame on my shoulders.’ She walked across to her mother, her skirts dragging across the floor. Leaning down, she kissed her cold cheek, whispering, ‘Goodbye, Mama.’ She stood up straight, struggling to tear herself away, but she had to leave. She knew when she wasn’t welcome. ‘I bid you farewell, Eleanor,’ she muttered, heading for the parlour door.
‘Where are you going?’ Jane interrupted.
‘Away from here. I’m sorry, I’d expected to find some respite and kindness here, but it wasn’t to be.’
‘Don’t blame me for it. I can’t have an unmarried mother and an infant born on the wrong side of the blanket living under my roof, while your cousin is on the verge of making what I hope will be an excellent marriage. I can’t have even a hint of scandal ruining Jane’s prospects.’ Aunt Felicity’s voice softened slightly. ‘Do you understand?’
‘Perfectly.’ Violet picked up the bags, and went out to the hall to collect the cat.
‘I’m coming with you,’ Eleanor said from behind her. ‘We’ll take Mama away from here.’
‘We can’t,’ Violet said sadly, turning to face her sister. ‘She has no need of us any more – she’s at peace at last.’
‘I can’t leave her,’ Eleanor sobbed.
‘You heard what Aunt Felicity said – you are welcome to stay here.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘You have to,’ Violet said firmly. ‘Stay and you’ll have all the home comforts you’re used to. You’ll have company, occupation and a roof over your head. I can’t promise you anything.’
‘Except a sister’s love,’ Eleanor said quietly. ‘That means more to me than anything in the world at this moment.’
‘Oh, Eleanor.’ Violet gazed at her through a blur of tears, as her sister continued, ‘You’re all I have left. You’re going nowhere without me.’
Half an hour later, they left their aunt’s house in Orchard Street, Violet walking with the basket and bags, ahead of Eleanor who carried the suitcase and a small purse containing a few shillings, a gift from their aunt to salve her conscience.
‘We have riches beyond compare,’ Eleanor said with a spring in her step, as they reached the centre of Canterbury. ‘Is it wrong not to feel all that sad about Mama? I mean, I feel sorrowful now and then because I miss her, but I feel as though I’ve mourned for her already. I grieved when she first got sick and was taking laudanum for the headaches, and then when she started to lose her beautiful hair and fingernails, and then when she turned into a shell of her former self. The worst time was when she couldn’t remember any of our names. I cried all week after that.’
‘I know what you mean. It’s a relief knowing that she’s no longer in pain. She’s been taken up to a better place.’
‘And we don’t have to look after her any longer,’ Eleanor said in a small voice. ‘I’m going to miss sitting with her on the balcony. Oh Violet, for a moment I imagined we could go home … Do you think she’d still be with us, if she’d been allowed to stay at the house? Do you think it was the shock that finished her off?’
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Violet said. ‘We’ve got to find some way of making our living. Where are we going to stay tonight? Tomorrow night?’
‘I could write and be published,’ Eleanor said quietly.
‘How will that work? We’ll have starved by the time you’ve finished the first chapter. Oh, I’m sorry for being snippy with you. I’m tired, hungry … and anxious beyond measure, because try as I might, I can’t think of a way forward. How will we survive?’
‘There’s somewhere down there.’ Eleanor pointed along a narrow side road which led towards one of the cathedral gates. They followed a sign to West’s Dining Rooms along Mercery Lane, where the old timber-framed shops leaned in towards each other as if a team of drunken builders had had a hand in their construction. The aroma of braised beef and suet drew them to the eatery, but the patron turned them away because of the cat.
‘If Dickens had stopped yowling, we would have been allowed in,’ Eleanor grumbled as they went on towards the cathedral. ‘Slow down – I’m famished.’
‘We’ll buy coffee from a barrow, and bread from the bakery.’
‘And some cheese from the market, and some fish heads for Dickens, for he will surely starve if we leave him in the basket without food.’
It was too late for the market – it had closed – but they bought a ham hock pie from an inn. They ate it on the street – something their parents and polite society would have frowned upon – but Violet didn’t care. Food had never tasted so good. When they had finished and Dickens had had his share, she brushed the crumbs from her face and put the remaining piece into one of their bags.
‘What are we going to do now?’ Eleanor asked.
‘I don’t know. It’s getting late.’
‘Should we set out for London to find Ottilie?’
Violet shook her head. ‘We don’t have a forwarding address, or money to get us there. Ottilie’s supposed to be writing to us to let us know where she’s living. I hope she thinks to contact Aunt Felicity or Jane when she doesn’t hear back from us.’ Even if they did know where she was, the newly-weds wouldn’t want them getting in the way, and it wouldn’t be fair to impose on John when he was setting up in business. Not only that, she would be bringing her shame with her – she couldn’t escape it. ‘I want to go back to Dover, where our memories are.’ Where William was. The thought came unbidden into her head. She remembered dancing with him at the ball, happier times when Pa had been wealthy, Mama well, and life filled with promise. ‘Dover is home.’
‘I agree with that. What times are the trains?’
‘We should make our way as far as we can on foot.’
‘That’s madness – we aren’t dressed for walking.’
‘How much money is in that purse?’
Eleanor counted it out, as Violet lugged the cat basket and luggage along.
‘Oh dear,’ she said.
‘Exactly. We can waste what’s left on our train fare, or travel by shanks pony and keep the money aside for when we get back to Dover.’
‘How far is it?’
‘Fifteen or sixteen miles, thereabouts,’ Violet guessed. ‘I don’t know how long it will take. If we set out now …’ Her strength was beginning to fail her after the events of the day. She could barely put one foot in front of the other.
‘We can’t walk all that way now – you’re worn out. Look at you,’ Eleanor said gently. ‘We should rest and set out in the morning. If we leave now, we’ll be walking in the dark.’
‘You’re right, but we haven’t anywhere to stay.’
‘Listen to me. You’re in no fit state. Think of the infant that’s growing inside you – you have to look after yourself.’
‘But where will we sleep? It isn’t safe to be here on the street.’
‘We’ll find somewhere, and I’ll stand guard while you rest. Trust me.’
They wandered through the narrow alleyways and squares which led down to the river, where they found what looked like a disused doorway overgrown with grass and ivy.
‘I can’t go any further.’ Violet’s feet were aching, and her head was swimming.
‘We’ll stop here. We can let the cat out for a while. It’s all right, I’ve got some string – I’ll make a collar, so he can’t go too far.’ Eleanor took the basket and bags, and made a makeshift cushion for Violet to sit on. ‘There you are. I’ll unpack a couple of our dresses for blankets, not that it’s all that cold.’
‘It will be by dawn,’ Violet muttered.<
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Later, they huddled together in the doorway, hidden in the shadows with Dickens in his basket looking out, his eyes glowing green from the darkness. A rat squeaked and scuttled across their feet and an old grey-muzzled dog ambled along and cocked its leg against the suitcase. Violet hugged her sister tight and kissed her cheek, and after a while – in spite of her fears of being attacked by thieves and men out to have their wicked way with them – she fell asleep.
She was woken with a jolt and a yelp of protest.
‘Hey, what do you think you’re doing?’ She was aware that Eleanor was on her feet, chasing down the street.
Having opened her eyes, Violet saw a tin bucket lying on its side, and two laughing urchins disappearing off around the corner, and Eleanor standing with her hands on her hips. She could smell the stench of river water seeping into her clothes.
‘The little tykes,’ Eleanor exclaimed as she returned to the doorway. ‘It isn’t funny. It’s a disaster. Look at us.’ A black liquid was trickling down her face on to her blouse. ‘We stink.’
Violet handed her a handkerchief. ‘Here. Use this.’
‘Oh, what good will that do?’ Eleanor took it anyway and did her best to clean herself up. ‘That’s the last straw.’
‘A little bit of dirty water never hurt anyone,’ Violet said, trying in vain to cheer her sister up. ‘Let’s pack our things and move on.’ She was even more determined to get back to Dover to breathe the sea air and hear the rush of the waves dragging at the shingle. ‘We’ll buy some ginger beer and have a picnic with the food we have left.’
‘You can’t fool me, Violet,’ Eleanor said. ‘We are in a dreadful pickle, and I can’t see any way out of it.’
Chapter Nineteen
The Dover Road
‘I wish I’d worn my walking shoes, not my best boots,’ Violet said as they made their way out of Canterbury, passing the cricket ground. ‘They’re pinching my toes.’
‘You wouldn’t have chosen to wear them, if we hadn’t gone to Ottilie’s wedding,’ Eleanor pointed out.
Violet was hobbling by the time they reached Bridge, where she decided that she’d had enough of her footwear. They stopped for refreshment they could ill afford at the White Horse, then paused again in the shelter of a hedge at the side of the road so she could take them off.
