Eve of the Isle

by Carol Rivers

  Eve woke with a start. A grey light was streaming through the large holes in the lace curtains. There was an eerie silence, no dripping or gurgling or creaking. But the silence seemed worse.

  Samuel and Albert lay fast asleep, but the space beyond them was empty. Peg was nowhere to be seen. Aware of a thumping headache that was beating inside her skull, Eve gently rolled back the covers. Easing herself from the mattress, she put on her boots and shawl, careful not to make a noise. The cottage was freezing, the door to their room closed. Opening it a fraction, Eve peered along the landing. Peg was sitting on the top stair. She was dressed in her heavy coat, her arms wrapped round herself against the cold.

  She glanced up as Eve approached. ‘Hello, gel. I had to do a pee but didn’t want to disturb you. There was no point. See?’ She lifted a crooked finger to indicate downstairs.

  Eve rubbed the tiredness from her eyes, pulling her shawl close round her shoulders. She gasped.

  ‘High, ain’t it?’

  They gazed down at the filthy water that had covered the bottom stairs. ‘We’re marooned!’

  ‘That’s about the size of it.’

  Eve rushed to the bedroom window as though it would present her with another picture. But as she moved the lace to one side, all she could see in the grim light of dawn was muddy brown water. A movement came from where the road used to be. A dog was swimming along. It only just kept its head above water. Soon it was out of sight. Eve pressed her nose against the glass.

  To the right she could see nothing, only water, though numbers two and four opposite were visible, their derelict remains now deluged by water. It was such an incredible sight that Eve stood motionless.

  Peg touched her shoulder. ‘At least the rain’s eased.’

  ‘How long has it been like this?’

  Peg nodded to the black and blue sky. ‘Gawd only knows.’

  ‘No sign of the Higgins.’

  ‘They’d be luckier than us. They’re all sitting high.’

  Eve turned to Peg and shook her head. ‘How are we going to get out?’

  ‘Dunno, ducks. We’ll have to wait and see.’

  ‘I can’t believe we’re surrounded. Do you think the walls will hold?’

  Peg shrugged. ‘They did a fair bit of complaining last night.’

  ‘The noises have stopped now.’

  ‘Yeah and it’s this silence I don’t like. Feels like there’s no other bugger left on earth.’ Peg coughed and looked round the small room filled with their salvaged belongings. Her lined face broke into a thousand creases as she smiled at the sight of the sleeping children. ‘Bless ’em. We’ll let them kip until it’s really light. Then we’ll have something to eat. See what to do afterwards.’

  ‘Someone will help, won’t they?’

  Again Peg smiled. ‘’Course they will. The king’s sent out the royal yacht for us. It’ll be sailing up Isle Street in just a minute or two.’

  The irony of Peg’s words was not lost on Eve. She couldn’t imagine the king having to retreat upstairs in Buckingham Palace as all the posh furniture and carpets were ruined below. The Palace Guard would be out in their dozens blocking up every inch of space. She sighed as she reflected on the two derelict cottages across the road. Families had lived there once, before the walls crumbled. Who were they and what were they like? Would someone one day ask that question of number three?

  Time wore on and the rain continued to fall. Eve had no idea what time it was; no one had a watch and Peg’s clock was downstairs on the mantel.

  As the hours passed all they could do was sit and wait. Eve had talked to Peg about the big clear up that was sure to take place when the water went down, but their conversation was short. A house flooded to this degree might stay partially flooded for weeks. And even if the water went down, there would be an unmentionable mess to remove. It was too big to consider and their spirits sank. The food was the only distraction and it would not last for ever. The water was rationed, the bucket was filling – and not just with rain. Their circumstances were dire.

  Every so often a noise outside could be heard and they’d rush to the window, but it seemed as if everyone had forgotten Isle Street. The house in the dip in particular.

  ‘Why don’t someone help us?’ said Eve impatiently, going to the window again. ‘Someone must.’

  ‘Is it raining again?’ asked Samuel, standing beside her and peering over the edge of the sill.

  ‘No, it’s stopped for a while.’

  Just then they heard an echo. It was tiny at first, a lonely wail in the distance. And then it got louder.

  Eve gasped. ‘Look, it’s a boat!’

  They stared in wonder as a small clinker rowing boat appeared. ‘It’s Jimmy!’ they shouted as Peg and Albert joined them at the window.

  Everyone jumped up and down. ‘It’s Jimmy, and he’s come to save us!’

  Eve hoped that was true. But the boat was small and a bit lopsided. Eve pushed up the sash and a cold wind blew in their faces, but they didn’t care. Jimmy had come to their rescue!

  ‘’Ang on a sec, I’ll have to tie up somewhere.’ Jimmy stood gingerly up in the boat. It banged against the wall of the cottage and he sat down again. Catching hold of the oars he slid them safely to the bottom of the boat.

  ‘Jimmy! Jimmy!’ cried Samuel and Albert.

  ‘’Ello, everyone.’

  ‘Where the bleeding ’ell, have you been,’ Peg called down.

  ‘Finding meself a decent boat,’ cried Jimmy as he gazed up. ‘They’re all out, rescuing people.’

  Eve calculated the height from the top window where they were all gathered down to the boat. It was too much of a drop to jump.

  ‘How deep is it?’ she called as Jimmy caught hold of the submerged lamppost.

  ‘About three feet I should think. Too deep to walk in, it would come up to your waist. And anyway, it’s filthy.’

  ‘Oh, gawd,’ sighed Peg, beside Eve. ‘The drains must have gone.’

  ‘Is it the Big Stink again?’ cried Albert.

  ‘Dunno. But it won’t do us no good swimming in it.’

  Eve leaned forward. ‘Can you see in through the door, Jimmy, to the stairs? Could we jump from them to the boat?’

  ‘You’d never get across. Tell you what, I’ll row round the side of the cottage, see if I can get up on the khazi roof below my window. Maybe there’s room for me to tie up and you could climb down.’

  Before Eve could reply, Jimmy had pushed off.

  ‘I’m too old for all this,’ said Peg suddenly. ‘How am I going to shin down a roof at my age?’

  ‘We’ll help you, Peg.’ The boys regarded her with concern.

  ‘Sit down a minute on me bed,’ said Eve gently. ‘Me and the boys will go into Jimmy’s room first, see what the lookout is.’

  With shoulders hunched, Peg pulled her coat round her and disappeared behind the curtain. Eve knew that it would not be easy for Peg to negotiate the corrugated iron roof, much less jump from the wall into Jimmy’s boat.

  Eve and the twins found Jimmy’s small room cold and damp. A hole in the rafters had grown larger and the permanent pail on the floor beneath was overflowing. The surrounding boards were wet, as was the blanket on top of the bed. The only thing that seemed dry was a chest in the corner, hiding the neglected, exposed brickwork.

  ‘Lift the sash with me boys.’ They all pushed up the wooden frame of the window. It was stiff, swollen by the rain.

  Outside in the yard the water resembled a brown sea with odd looking icebergs. Buckets, boxes, bales of straw, barrels and papers bobbed up and down. There was even a dead chicken which gave Eve the shivers but fascinated the twins. She tried not to look at it.

  The boat came slowly into view. Jimmy almost lost an oar, but then caught it.

  ‘I’ll tie me bit of rope to the top of the wall,’ he shouted, pushing back his spiky brown hair from his face as the boat rocked dangerously. In his belted donkey jacket and trousers encircled at the
ankles he looked not much older than the twins.

  ‘Do you think it’s safe on the lav roof?’ Eve called.

  ‘I slid down it lots of times,’ said Samuel. ‘It’s easy.’

  ‘Me too,’ agreed Albert. ‘We jump all the lav roofs to climb up to the ships’ bowsprits.’

  ‘I hope the neighbours don’t catch you,’ said Eve worriedly, ‘’specially Mr Petrovsky. He’s not keen on little boys ever since they broke his window playing football.’

  ‘It wasn’t us.’ Samuel grinned at his brother. ‘And we wasn’t even playing football.’

  ‘Look, Jimmy’s climbing up.’ Samuel pointed to the small, agile figure of Jimmy Jones balancing his way along the top of the wall.

  ‘’Ello mateys, Jimmy at your service.’ He shinned up the roof like a monkey.

  ‘We thought rescue would never come!’ Eve exclaimed. ‘What’s happening? Is all London flooded?’

  ‘Yeah,’ nodded Jimmy, his big eyes wide. ‘The Chelsea Embankment’s collapsed and even the House of Commons is under water. Not to mention the Underground and the Blackwall and Rotherhithe tunnels. Someone said the moat at the Tower has filled up and that’s been empty for nearly an ’undred years.’

  ‘What about the Higgins?’ asked Eve. ‘And Mr Petrovsky?’

  ‘The Higgins are away. And the old boy at number seven wasn’t touched as he’s higher up. When I row you back to Westferry Road, the Sally Army are waiting to take you to the nearest church hall with hot food and beds for the night.’

  ‘Thank the Lord for that,’ sighed Eve.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Peg shuffled her way towards them.

  ‘Jimmy’s rescuing us,’ shouted the boys. ‘Then we’re going for a dinner up the Sally Army.’

  ‘Can you take us all?’ asked Eve, doubtful that the small craft could fit in all four.

  ‘Yeah, dead easy,’ Jimmy assured them. ‘I’m a first class rower.’

  But Eve wasn’t so certain. Jimmy might be able to ride a bicycle like the wind, but he hadn’t seemed proficient with the oars. What would happen if the boat capsized?

  Chapter Three

  After some debate, they decided the two boys should go first. Jimmy held the boat steady with the rope as, clad in caps, scarves and raincoats, they slipped down the closet roof to the yard wall. A gust of wind made the little boat sway and Eve held her breath as she watched Jimmy help first Albert and then Samuel aboard.

  ‘I’ll be back before you can blink,’ Jimmy called as he untied.

  ‘You keep my babies safe, or else, Jimmy Jones!’ Eve wagged her finger as she watched her boys being rowed away, her emotions torn. She prayed the boat wouldn’t sink. It didn’t look safe and the rain had started again and was falling steadily into it. But who else would rescue them?

  ‘Suppose we’d better get out there ourselves,’ said Peg when the boat had gone. ‘Be ready for the wanderer’s return.’

  They dressed in the capes and after climbing carefully out of the window herself, Eve reached back in to help Peg.

  ‘This is a right caper, girl,’ said Peg, falling back in again. ‘I’ll skid down that roof like a roller skate in all this wet.’

  Eve shook her head. ‘No you won’t. Hold on to me.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ sighed Peg, grabbing her hand. ‘I’m all yours.’

  Eve put one hand around Peg’s waist as she sat on the window ledge, then pulled.

  ‘Blimey, you’re only small, but you’ve got the strength of ’ercules,’ gasped Peg as she tumbled down on to the roof.

  ‘Are you all in one piece?’ Eve helped her up.

  ‘I dunno. But me mouth is still working.’

  They stood like two full-blown sails on the unstable roof, clinging to the sill.

  ‘Right, off you go,’ said Peg. ‘Slide down and I’ll join you.’

  Lowering herself and, reluctantly leaving Peg, Eve slid down to the wall.

  A few seconds later, the sight of a large green cape billowing above her, made Eve gulp.

  ‘Go steady, Peg.’

  ‘I can’t do nothing else!’

  With a whoosh, Peg let go of the sill and somehow ended up beside Eve. They put their arms round each other, half laughing, half crying in the wind and rain.

  ‘An acrobat at my age!’ exclaimed Peg with a throaty chuckle. ‘Now, I just hope that Jimmy don’t lose his way back to us and end up down Greenwich Reach.’

  Eve smiled, but it soon faded as the rain soaked them once more. They clung together, waiting for rescue.

  At first Eve didn’t hear the shouts. She was too busy burying her head into Peg’s neck, holding on for dear life as the rain tried to wash them off their precarious perch.

  ‘Ahoy there!’ A deep voice came over the drum of the rain.

  Eve looked up. Squinting against the waterfall that seemed to be over them, she saw it wasn’t Jimmy but another boat. Steering with a long, thin pole, aiming towards her, was a tall figure dressed in navy blue. Another man, clad in a blue cape and hood sat at the helm. On the side of the boat was a sign that read, ‘Property of the Port of London’.

  ‘It’s the police,’ said Eve, surprised at their appearance. There was no love lost between the law and islanders. To see them attempting to help ordinary folk was a rarity.

  ‘Take hold of the pole,’ the young man shouted. ‘And step towards me.’

  ‘You took your time!’ cried Peg as Eve helped her forward. ‘You better catch me laddo! I ain’t no spring chicken and I’d sink like a stone if I fell in.’

  ‘Just catch the pole,’ said the calm voice. ‘I’ll do the rest.’

  Peg gave him a grimace then grabbed the pole. The boat banged against the side of the wall. Before Peg could cry out, the young man had swung her down in the boat.

  Eve could hardly see through the fine, watery mist that seemed to be rising up from the flood. ‘Hold on, miss.’ The boat rocked as he positioned the pole for Eve to hold. Her clothes felt heavy and seemed to weigh her down as she stepped forward. If she fell, swimming would be out of the question. How fast would she sink?

  ‘You’re safe now.’ In the blink of an eye she was caught by the waist and transferred to the boat.

  ‘You all right, gel?’ croaked Peg as they sat, shivering together, and the policeman pushed off from the wall.

  Eve nodded. She was aware of the brilliant blue gaze of their rescuer as he gave them a smile, something that was rarely seen on the face of the enemy.

  Despite Peg’s glare, Eve was almost tempted to return it.

  That night the boys lay fast asleep on the rush mats provided by the Salvation Army. After a meal of hot soup, bread and cheese, they had all been provided with a blanket and pillow. The chapel hall used for the emergency was crowded with victims of the storm. A dozen red-ribboned bonnets bobbed here and there, tending to the needy. The pungent aroma of soup from the kitchens mingled with the humid smell of wet bodies and clothes as they dried out in the crowded hall.

  ‘Well, it could be worse,’ said Peg, draining the last dregs of tea from her mug. ‘We’ve filled our stomachs and got a dry roof over our heads.’

  Eve was sitting with a blanket around her shoulders on the hard bench next to Peg. Their wet clothes had dried on them, and she was trying hard not to worry about the cottage. How bad was the damage? Would they ever be able to live there again? Certainly it would be contaminated. All Peg’s furniture must be soaked through, the couch and chairs especially. Had the mattress on the sideboard fared better?

  But for all their problems they were luckier than some.

  ‘Poor buggers,’ said Peg, shaking her head. ‘Wonder if the rest of the country suffered too?’

  Eve shuddered. ‘We’ll know soon enough. Look, the captain is going to speak to us.’

  A large, portly man in uniform cleared his throat, waving a sheaf of papers in front of him. ‘I’m sure you are all curious to know what’s happened to the city. Well, I can tell you. Everywhere has suffer
ed. Even the Tate Gallery was flooded and some of the valuable exhibits were lost.’

  Eve glanced round. There was surprise on people’s faces, but not alarm. The Tate could be a million miles away from their world of poverty and deprivation. The exhibits were only relics of history, not real life. They wanted to know about their homes.

  ‘And worst of all,’ continued the captain, ‘lives have been lost.’

  A loud ‘Oh!’ went up, a distinct reaction and the captain nodded gravely.

  ‘Very sad indeed. We are given to understand that the worst affected areas are as follows: Millbank has suffered greatly, with many of its old buildings and warehouses swept away. There is flooding at Charing Cross and Waterloo Bridge and roads all over the city have been lost to several inches of water. Tramcars have been abandoned and the public subway at Westminster Bridge is flooded to a depth of four feet. Now, about the island . . .’

  There was absolute silence. Everyone was holding their breath as they waited for news of their own homes.

  ‘Unfortunately we haven’t any detailed information.’

  A collective groan filled the room.

  The captain raised his hand. ‘Be patient, as now the rain has eased, we hope that the water will recede. For tonight, try to sleep well and with luck you will all be home tomorrow.’

  Before anyone could stop him to ask questions, he made a swift exit.

  ‘He don’t want to tell us the worst,’ said Peg. ‘Maybe tomorrow we’ll find out from his ’oppos.’