by Carol Rivers
‘Don’t like water on me face. You can bring over me make-up though. It’s in a bag in the drawer there.’
Eve found the bag and handed it to Joan, then helped her to the po. When she was finished, she took the pot to the lavatory and emptied it. No one was about but the toilet stank as usual.
When she returned, Joan was fully made-up. Her eyes still looked puffy but were alert and her lips painted a bright red.
‘I’ll have another cup of tea. And when you come back I want you to do me hair. Then I’ll tell you what chores need to be done. Oh, and I know you’ll be feeding your hungry gannets at my expense. So don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes as I know exactly what I’ve got in me cupboard. I’ll want every penny back.’
‘You needn’t worry about that.’
‘Oh, but I do.’ Joan glanced up suspiciously.
Eve was furious, but managed not to show it. Until she discovered how soon they could go home, she would have to hold the candle to the devil, that being the devoted couple, Joan and Harold Slygo.
Eve had finished all the jobs and was cooking the boys their tea when a knock came at the front door.
P.C. Merritt was dressed in a light grey overcoat, grey flannels and a loose striped scarf. He had combed his thick, dark brown hair neatly to one side making a perfect parting across his well-shaped head. Without his helmet he looked almost human, thought Eve.
‘You’re not on duty, then? Or are you doing a stint in plain clothes.’
‘No, this is me day off. And I’ve some news for you, Mrs Kumar.’
She took a deep breath. Was this the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel? ‘You’d better come in.’
Samuel and Albert came running up.
‘Hello lads.’
The twins gazed at him curiously. ‘You ain’t got your uniform on.’
‘Not today. It had to go to a meeting with all the other uniforms. Get its buttons shined up all sparkly.’
The boys laughed and he winked at them.
Eve led the way down to the kitchen where Peg was stirring the saucepan of steaming potatoes.
‘So you turned up, after all.’ Peg took the cigarette from her mouth and balanced it on a saucer. She narrowed her eyes at the young man. ‘So what’s the news then?’
The policeman straightened his back. ‘The water’s gone down but it’s left a lot of waste behind.’
‘We expected that,’ nodded Eve, excited at the prospect of going home. She couldn’t wait to leave Bambury Buildings and Harold’s fat, grasping hands and stomach-turning smell. Even if the cottage was a bit damp and dirty it didn’t matter. It was home.
‘It might be a bit more than you think.’ He scratched his head and frowned. ‘Put it like this, the mud’s everywhere, but there’s other stuff too. A spade and shovel won’t go amiss and a wheelbarrow to cart it all in.’
Eve gasped. ‘You’re joking!’
‘Just don’t get your hopes up too high.’
Peg patted her arm. ‘Never mind, gel. It’s not that bad here. And we don’t want to go back to a sewer.’
Eve didn’t want to let on about Harold, but how was she going to avoid him?
Peg pushed her hair from her face and cuffed the drip from her nose. ‘Are the schools open?’
The policeman nodded.
‘Right, the boys can go to school in the morning, then we can start the cleaning.’
‘We’ll help,’ chorused the twins who had been listening at the door. ‘We don’t want to go to school.’
‘On second thoughts,’ nodded Peg thoughtfully, ‘the more hands the better. Though where we’ll get a wheelbarrow from is anyone’s guess.’
‘I can solve that problem for you,’ said P.C. Merritt looking a little hesitant as all eyes fell on him. ‘My dad’s got a barrow. I could bring it over.’
Peg and Eve stared in surprise at the young constable. The fact that he offered more help had momentarily struck everyone dumb. The police never did anything like this for the public. It was unheard of.
‘Anyway, I’ll bid you all good evening,’ said the young man hurriedly as the silence deepened. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
‘Blimey!’ gasped Peg when he’d gone. ‘That’s a turn up for the books.’ She snatched her cigarette and puffed at it fiercely. ‘What do you suppose he’s up to?’
Eve shrugged as she looked at the twins. ‘Time for tea you two. Amuse yourselves in the other room whilst we cook it.’
When alone with Peg, Eve lowered her voice. ‘You don’t think Jimmy’s in trouble do you? That the police are interested in him.’
Peg creased her brow. ‘I was wondering the same.’
‘I suppose he could really be genuine.’
But Peg shook her head. ‘Coppers just ain’t like that. He’s got a motive for wanting to help. Young Jimmy is a bit iffy, ain’t he? Perhaps he’s being watched.’
Eve sighed. ‘What shall we do?’
‘We’ll have to put the copper off.’ Peg sucked in the smoke until she coughed. Clearing her throat, she nodded. ‘Wonder if he nosed round the cottage in order to find incriminating evidence?’
‘We’ve got nothing to hide,’ Eve shrugged. ‘But there is that big chest up in Jimmy’s room.’
‘He keeps it well and truly locked.’
Eve looked sharply at Peg. ‘How do you know?’
‘I’ve tried it, gel.’
‘But it’s private.’
Peg laughed. ‘Look, ducks, I regard Jimmy as I would a son, but that roof over our heads is the only one we’ve got. If the council got to hear of anything dodgy, they’d have us out quicker than you could say swag. So all I do is keep an eye on our boy. He knows full well I’m broad minded, but there is a limit.’
Eve sighed. ‘We’re assuming it’s Jimmy they’re after but we don’t really know.’
‘We’ll have to play a bit canny with this one,’ said Peg, to which Eve gave a hearty nod.
‘Anyway, it’s first things first. We’ll get an early start in the morning, get back into our home,’ suggested Peg, grasping the saucepan and draining the potatoes with a plate. ‘Now, let’s slice that bit of bacon I found in the larder and we’ll feed the kids before his nibs arrives home.’
Eve shuddered as she set to work, dreading the sound of Harold’s key in the lock.
Much to Joan’s annoyance, Eve was up at the crack of dawn. She took in porridge and tea as usual, but was greeted with complaints.
‘I won’t manage on me own.’
‘Yes, you will. You’ve got your legs back again.’
‘They’re not like they were.’
‘I’ll be home in time to cook dinner. Meanwhile I’ll bring in a tray to tide you over. Now let me help you on the po.’
‘I wouldn’t mind a drop of mother’s ruin for medicinal purposes,’ Joan murmured as she leaned on Eve. ‘It would do me the world of good. You could buy some. I’ll give you the money. The pub at the end of the road has an offie.’
Eve helped Joan back into bed. ‘You don’t want another accident.’
Tears of self-pity filled Joan’s eyes. ‘No one understands. I could do away with meself.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘It’s true.’
Eve relented a little. ‘We’ll see. In the morning if you still feel a bit down, I’ll buy some. But it will be on ration.’
‘Who are you to tell me how much to drink?’ Joan’s meekness turned swiftly to anger. ‘I’m only having you here out the goodness of me heart.’
‘Oh, rubbish, Joan. You know as well as I do that without us, Harold would have to look after you.’
Joan tightened her lips, giving Eve a scowl. ‘All right, you’ve made yer point.’
‘Here’s your cigarettes.’
Joan grabbed them and taking one from the packet with shaking hands, pushed it between her quivering lips. Eve lit it for her with a match. Looking down into Joan’s grey, lined face and swollen eyes, she saw an unhappy woma
n.
‘Oh, gel, I can’t believe it.’ Peg stared at the sad sight before them. ‘That used to be our home.’
Eve fought back the tears as she gazed at the filth-ridden passage, the thick, brown sludge that clung to the walls and the remnants of other people’s lives and their own, washed into piles on the unrecognizable ground floor of the cottage. No wonder P.C. Merritt had said not to get their hopes up. The urge to turn round and pretend it wasn’t real almost overcame her, but she knew she had to face reality.
Samuel and Albert stood at the front door where there was now a gaping hole. ‘It’s like the Great Stink!’ Albert yelled over his shoulder. ‘There’s a big poo over there, look!’
Samuel dug his brother in the ribs, glancing back at his mother. ‘It might just be mud.’
‘And there’s a dead fish. That’s what stinks.’
‘Don’t go in,’ Eve told them firmly. She had too many memories of the old cholera stories in her mind to think of stepping over the threshold.
‘How are we going to clean it?’ Albert’s warm breath wove up into the cold January air. ‘We ain’t got no boots, nor nothing.’
‘It’s only gone up four stairs.’ It was the only positive comment Eve could think of. The brown band that went round the walls was about three feet high. Below it was badly discoloured and bricks were exposed through gaping holes. The smell was overpowering. Eve could see through to the kitchen, and she wondered what had happened to the larder and stove. It was an impossible job; they had no boots, no spade or pan to clear the mud with. No disinfectant or masks to use against the germs. Outside on the pavement the rain had washed the mud into the gutters and drains, but the cottage had served as a reservoir in the dip, retaining all the muck and mess.
Peg pulled her coat round her and shivered. ‘What we going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’ Eve searched her brain for an answer. They needed help, but from whom would they get it? The town hall was the only place to try. But she had seen as they travelled in the police car that ordinary people were doing what they could to help themselves. The fire engines and officials were attending to the important places in the city. As usual, the East End would have to look after itself.
Just then, Eve heard shouting. They turned to see Jimmy Jones riding down the slope. He was carrying something in his basket on the front of the bicycle.
‘Jimmy, Jimmy!’ The boys ran to him.
He pulled on his brakes, his nose and cheeks red with the cold. ‘Hello, mateys!’
Eve hurried up. ‘Jimmy, where have you been?’
‘Couldn’t hang around the other day. Saw the bluebottles coming for you in their boat. Knew you’d be OK. I went over to me mate’s place at Shoreditch. He give me a bed for the time being.’
‘Well talk of the devil,’ puffed Peg, joining them as they stared at the overloaded bicycle. ‘Where did you bugger off to?’
Jimmy tapped the side of his nose. ‘Had to see a man about a dog. Look what I got.’ He untied the corners of a dirty cloth covering the basket. ‘These are from the rubber factory down the road. Half a dozen pairs of rubber boots and some empty paint pots. We can shovel the muck into these and I’ll dump it down at the docks. There’s big piles there that people are leaving.’
‘Jimmy, they aren’t knocked off, are they?’ Eve gazed at the boots.
Jimmy’s eyes were wide. ‘’Course not. I paid for ’em fair and square.’
‘Do they fit us?’ The boys pulled out the boots and tried them on. They fell about laughing at their big feet.
‘How much did they cost?’ Eve asked.
‘Nothing. They was surplus to requirements.’ He pointed over her shoulder. ‘Look. Here’s Eric coming down the hill.’
The broad-shouldered figure of their neighbour, Eric Higgins, came hurrying down the incline. He was carrying a spade, fork and large sack. ‘Maude’s coming soon with some disinfectant gel,’ he shouted. ‘Got a few pans and brushes in here.’
Soon they were joined by Eric’s plump, bustling wife who brought a mop and broom and Joseph Petrovsky who supported a long hose wound over his arm. ‘My dears, my dears, we’ll soon wash away all that filth.’
Eve was clasped tightly in Maude Higgins’ buxom embrace. ‘We was just waiting for you to come back so we could muck in. Our lads are coming to help too. Apologies for not showing up sooner. We was away till yesterday at a family reunion.’ She winked. ‘The sort that takes a few days if you know what I mean. We came back to find this lot and you gone.’
‘We’re with Peg’s sister Joan.’
‘Didn’t know she had one.’
‘It’s over Blackwall.’
‘Oh. Well, we’ll have you ship shape in no time.’
Eve’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude. All their neighbours had rallied round. But even with their help, how soon would it be before they could live at the cottage again?
Chapter Six
It was as Eve was standing with Joseph Petrovsky at the edge of a dark and foul-smelling hole in the road, searching for the sight of the water main, that a vehicle came into sight. It was a motor van with ‘Merritt’s Bakery & Provisions’ written in big letters on its side. A tall figure climbed out.
‘Hello there,’ called P.C. Merritt, hurrying up to where they stood. Unlike the day before he was dressed in corduroy working trousers and a thick winter jumper. ‘Sorry I’m late. I’ve had to wait till me dad got back from his deliveries to borrow the van.’ He rubbed his cold hands together and smiled.
‘Is your dad a baker?’ Eve was curious.
‘He runs a baker’s and provisions shop off the Commercial Road. We’ve lived over the top of it for years.’
‘Is that where you learned to drive?’
‘Yes. Me dad got rid of his cart and invested in one of the newfangled motor vans. Lucky for me, it was handy to know how to drive in my line of work. Now, I’ll get the barrow.’
Eve glanced quickly at Joseph Petrovsky. She didn’t want to say this was a policeman. The mention of the law would have the street deserted in seconds. But she couldn’t introduce him by his first name as she didn’t know it.
‘A nice young fellow, my dear,’ said the old man when they were alone. ‘A friend of yours?’
Eve felt flustered. ‘Not really.’ Eve reached out to assist him with the hose. ‘Let me help you with that.’
‘This is not a woman’s job. The sewer is unhealthy.’
‘Quite right,’ called P.C. Merritt as he returned with the wheelbarrow. ‘Leave it to us.’ He grinned at Joseph.
The clatter of the wheelbarrow drew Maude and Eric’s attention. Soon everyone had gathered round, expecting her to introduce the tall young man. Eve tucked a stray lock of hair under her turban trying to think what to say. But the newcomer’s hand was firmly shaken as he told them all to call him Charlie.
‘Righto,’ he grinned when the meeting was over. ‘Let’s see what we can find in this hole, Joseph. I’m sure we’ll be up and running in no time.’
‘I’m sure we will, young man. Are you from the fire brigade?’ asked Joseph.
‘I had a bit of training in that direction.’
‘I also, in my native Russia many years ago. As a boy I helped in the water works of our village.’
‘You never did!’ Charlie handed Joseph a spanner from a tool box at his side. ‘Hang on to this then. We may need it.’
‘My boy, you have made my day.’
Eve saw Joseph’s face brighten. He was an elderly man who had fled Russia in his youth. He had married but never spoke of his wife and it was not unusual to see a strange face or two turn up at his home. They were said to be visitors from Russia and sometimes they stayed for weeks, even months. Eric Higgins had told Peg he suspected they were downtrodden and persecuted and often in fear of their lives. Joseph gave them shelter until they were ready to set off again.
Eve knew that Isle Street was regarded as a slum but, she was proud to say, in this road it was live
and let live. People might look down on this place: the cottages were condemned and the council ignored the crumbling walls and penetrating damp, but Isle Street residents never complained. They were happy to be left alone and live their lives without interference. They didn’t care if they were classed as misfits, even though the label was unjustified. Gazing around her Eve felt only gratitude to the people who lived here; her neighbours had hearts of gold, they were salt of the earth, and she would never forget their loyalty and friendship.
Peg’s dirty furniture and her waterlogged possessions were carried out by the Higgins’ strong sons in order to be cleaned by Peg and Maude. Jimmy and Eric piled muck into paint pots and the wheelbarrow. Maude was also wearing a turban and had set about scrubbing the leather sofa. Eve could hear the twins’ laughter. She knew they would be round the back looking for the dead chicken.
‘What are you two up to?’ she asked as she looked over the wall at the rear of the cottage.
‘Nothing,’ said Albert, looking guilty.
‘I don’t want you touching nothing dead.’
‘It ain’t got no feathers,’ spluttered Samuel, pushing his boot against a lump on the ground. ‘We was going to bury it.’
Eve pointed to the cress patch by the underground stream. ‘Make yourselves useful and tell me if you can see the cress.’
Both boys ran over. They trod around in their big boots. ‘Can’t see,’ shouted Samuel, ‘it’s all muddy.’
Eve sighed. She knew that in winter the little shoots were delicate and struggling for life. How could they have survived under all that?
Suddenly there were shouts from the front of the house. Eve ran back to see the long hose coming to life.
‘The pump is working!’ cried Joseph as Charlie sprang to his feet from the hole in the road. He was only just in time to catch the nozzle. There were cheers and laughter as the water burst up like a fountain.
‘What time do you call this?’ yelled Joan as Eve, Peg and the twins entered the dark hall. Joan was wearing her dressing gown and standing in the kitchen. She had an empty bottle in her hand. ‘It’s half past seven. You might as well not have bothered to come back!’
