Eve of the Isle

by Carol Rivers

  Eve looked down at her laden basket. Discreetly she shined the top layer of fruit with her cuff. Soon she began to call out to the passers-by. ‘Oranges, apples and pears. Cheaper than the market.’

  By two o’clock she had sold out to the city folk. With the money she had made she returned to the stands where some of the traders were packing up. She offered to buy their unsold stock and at once struck a deal.

  Once more she asked the Irish family for their help and by tea time she had sold everything. Eve counted her takings of five shillings and six pence. She had made enough money for the rent and enough left to give some to Joseph.

  She couldn’t wait to tell everyone that Eve Kumar was back in business!

  Archie Fuller was a man of his word. He met Eve each morning and out of her earnings she bought herself two strong baskets which he agreed to stow on the cart. Over the following weeks, she returned him four shillings every Tuesday, whilst her profits increased by the day.

  One Sunday morning in February, Eve woke with a start. A strong wind was whistling through the gaps in the window. It was still dark outside and she got up, careful not to disturb Peg or the boys. Dressing quickly she went downstairs.

  A light was on in the scullery. Joseph was already up. ‘Just listen to the wind,’ he said as they stood by the draughty door.

  ‘I’m glad I’m not out selling today,’ said Eve, pulling her shawl around her shoulders. The wind seemed to be getting stronger.

  ‘Come along, I’ve made tea.’

  Eve thought how cosy it was in Joseph’s house as they sat together at the table. They were happy here. And she felt better about them staying now she could pay her way. ‘It’s Sunday so I’m going to the cottage,’ she told him as she sipped the warm brew. ‘I bought a strong disinfectant to deter the rats.’

  ‘Will it work do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know but anything’s worth a try. I don’t like going inside but if I wait for the council to come, I could wait forever.’

  ‘I shall come with you and whilst you work, chase the devils off with a broom.’

  Eve smiled. She had been hoping he would offer as she knew the boys and Peg would only stand at the door or in the yard. After living in Joseph’s clean and comfortable house, they were as reluctant as she was to go inside their old home.

  Just then the wind blew the back door open. A gale blew round the kitchen, sweeping up the cloths and curtains with an invisible hand. Eve rushed to close it.

  Joseph looked out of the window. ‘A most unusual turn of events indeed. First the flood and now this.’

  After breakfast they all sat in the parlour.

  ‘Can we go out to play in the street?’ asked Samuel and Albert.

  Before Eve could answer there was a rushing noise in the chimney. Suddenly a cloud of black soot swept into the hearth. They all jumped up.

  ‘It’s Old Father Thames again,’ cried Albert as a dusty fog enveloped them.

  ‘Oy vay!’ Joseph flung his arms up in distress. ‘What evil dybbuk is this?’

  ‘We’ll soon clear it up,’ said Eve, rushing out to find the brush and pan. But when she returned, Peg and Joseph were trying to stop another avalanche.

  Their faces were black and the room was filled with soot.

  Joseph placed a heavy board across the hearth to prevent any more catastrophes. The soot and dust covered everything, turning the room a gloomy grey.

  They spent the morning cleaning, sweeping and washing. Outside the wind was turning into a hurricane blowing things along the street.

  ‘Why can’t we go out in it?’ The boys wanted some excitement.

  But when they saw Duggie Higgins in distress, they knew going out was too dangerous. All six feet two of Duggie was thrown back the way he had come.

  ‘He’s hanging on to the lamppost,’ gasped Eve as they craned their necks to watch for the next development.

  Duggie was losing his battle despite his great strength. He let go and toppled back. When he fell on his backside everyone laughed. But Eve was thinking about the cottage. If the wind was able to blow human bodies about like rag dolls would the cottage be able to withstand its force?

  That afternoon they played dominoes. Peg smoked nervously, getting up to look out of the window now and then. When a dustbin clattered by they all rushed to see what it was. Followed by a chair with a broken leg, Eve knew that this was no ordinary wind. The country was experiencing another storm. She said a silent prayer, that no matter how much it blew, it wouldn’t rain.

  That night, the wind still hadn’t given up. It rattled around the house, under the doors, through the windows and into every room.

  ‘Do you reckon the cottage is still standing?’ whispered Peg as they sat in their beds that night talking in whispers so as not to disturb the boys.

  ‘A wind couldn’t knock it down, could it?’

  ‘Don’t think so. A few slates or bricks could come loose. And we’ve got the copper’s barrow to clear up the mess.’

  Eve hadn’t forgotten Charlie Merritt. Why had he never reclaimed the wheelbarrow? Perhaps he didn’t want to be seen with the likes of them again. Had Harold spoken badly of them when he went to the station?

  ‘Funny he ain’t come for it,’ said Peg voicing Eve’s thoughts.

  ‘Perhaps he couldn’t borrow his dad’s van.’

  ‘Or perhaps he didn’t find anything when he nosed around.’

  ‘I didn’t see him snooping,’ replied Eve defensively. ‘All he did was help us.’

  ‘So why’s he left that barrow?’ persisted Peg irritatingly. ‘Is it an excuse to have a butcher’s when he feels like it?’

  Eve sighed. ‘What’s he going to find? An old tumbled down cottage full of rats. I can’t believe the police are interested in us.’

  Peg sniffed. ‘Never trust a copper that’s what I say.’

  Eve didn’t reply as although she agreed with Peg about not trusting the police, Charlie Merritt seemed different. He had worked hard that day and cleared some of the mud. But his enthusiasm must have faded when he saw all there was to be done.

  ‘You going to the market tomorrow?’

  ‘If the wind’s dropped.’

  ‘You can’t sell stuff hanging on to a lamppost, gel.’

  ‘Let’s go to sleep.’ Eve didn’t want to talk any more. One bad thought seemed to give birth to another.

  But all the same, she woke with a start in the night. Wondering what had disturbed her, she realized it was the silence. Pulling her shawl round her she went to the window. There was only the calm night outside and the bright stars twinkling above.

  The gale was over.

  All day, Eve’s thoughts were of the cottage. She had been relieved to see its familiar outline in the dark this morning as she set off for work. Perhaps if she got home early tonight, she could sprinkle down a little of the disinfectant. But it was a chilling thought, as it would be dusk, the shadows producing any number of frights. It would be better if Joseph was with her, but he was an old man and it was still cold in the evenings. At least she had been able to give Peg the money for the rent each week. And although they were not living there, they were not in debt. When the fumigation had been done, they could move back and begin their lives again. She knew the boys and Peg were getting too comfortable at Joseph’s house. And although he didn’t complain, it must be an imposition to suddenly acquire a large family. He couldn’t get on with his own life and although he didn’t speak of it, she knew that he had one.

  That morning the newspapers announced the gale had claimed eleven lives as it had swept across Britain. Buildings had been demolished, vehicles turned over and the train service interrupted. Hard on the heels of the flood, once more the nation struggled to return to normal.

  The city had been battered by its force, but it was business as usual for the market traders. Though some of the fruit, vegetables and flowers had been damaged, it was rich pickings for those who stood on the sides.

  T
rade was good as her customers were relieved to see blue skies. She sold all the contents of her first basket but didn’t return for more as she wanted to get home and persuade Peg and the boys to come to the cottage.

  But when she arrived in Isle Street, Samuel and Albert ran towards her. ‘We ain’t got no roof,’ they cried, pulling her to the cottage. ‘The wind blew it off.’

  Eve stood with the boys in the backyard. The hole over Jimmy’s room had become a yawning gap spreading up to the top rafters. It was a sad sight.

  ‘What we gonna do?’ asked Samuel disconsolately.

  ‘We’ll have to stay with Mr Petrovsky.’ Albert looked pleased.

  Eve’s spirits sank. There seemed no end to the catastrophes befalling the cottage.

  She looked down at the place where the watercress had once grown. There was now a thick brown sludge in place of the delightful green shoots. A black furry creature scuttled off from under a stone.

  Eve jumped away.

  Albert laughed but Eve found it hard to smile. It was as if the old stories were coming true and Father Thames really was punishing them. Were they really going to lose their home for good?

  Eve forced the tears back. She didn’t want the twins to see how upset she was.

  Later that evening there was a knock at the door. Eve went to answer it.

  ‘Hello.’ It was Charlie Merritt.

  Eve was shocked to see the tall figure on the doorstep. He wasn’t in uniform, but wore a coat and scarf that hung loose around his neck. His dark hair was brushed neatly back, as though he had just combed it into place.

  It was a moment before she collected her thoughts. ‘What do you want?’ She knew she sounded unfriendly. But Peg’s warning was still ringing in her ears.

  ‘Is it too late to come in?’

  She frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’d like to talk to you about your husband.’

  Eve felt a shiver go through her. She hadn’t expected him to say that. ‘You haven’t found another body?’

  ‘No.’ He smiled. ‘But I have found something else and would like to discuss it with you.’

  Eve slowly opened the door and he stepped in. ‘The boys are in bed asleep.’

  ‘Oh, I was looking forward to seeing them.’

  ‘How did you find us?’ she asked.

  ‘I made enquiries with the Higgins.’

  She opened the parlour door. Peg and Joseph were sitting by the fire.

  Peg looked alarmed but Joseph stood up and extended his arm. ‘It’s good to see you again, young man.’

  Charlie Merritt shook his hand and smiled at Peg. ‘Evening,’ he said politely.

  But Peg looked suspicious. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘It’s about Raj,’ interrupted Eve, sitting down. ‘Have a seat.’

  He sat on the couch beside her. ‘I’ve been following up enquiries.’

  ‘What enquiries?’

  His blue eyes met hers. ‘First, could you tell me how long your late husband had been at sea?’

  Eve nodded, but Peg interrupted. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’

  ‘I’m trying to piece together what might have happened.’

  ‘By asking a lot of questions?’

  This time Eve spoke up. ‘Raj went to sea when he was only thirteen. He was twenty-one when he died.’

  ‘So his service was some eight years?’

  Eve nodded.

  ‘Would you say your husband was an experienced sailor?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And not likely to miss his footing and fall overboard?’

  ‘Are you suggesting he was pushed?’ Eve felt her voice rise. It was a horrible thought.

  ‘I’m keeping an open mind, Mrs Kumar. However, I did visit the Overseas Sailors’ Home in West India Dock Road. It provides lodgings for seamen waiting for ships and educates the lascars on the unscrupulous men and women who prey on them in this country. My aim was to seek out any sailor that might have come into contact with either your husband or the Star of Bengal at the time of his death. I returned there on several occasions and last week I had a stroke of luck. I found a lascar who had served on the Star five years ago. He is an agwala by trade, a man who worked in the engine room.’

  Eve sat up. ‘But Raj was a cook in the purser’s department.’

  ‘Indeed. But he recalled the name of the head man who dealt with the galley crew. His name is Somar Singh. Unfortunately I could get no further information on his whereabouts. The lascar didn’t speak much English and it was only with the help of one of the staff that I managed to get the information I did. However, I then proceeded to the lascar Transfer Office in Victoria Dock to make further enquiries and was told that all the lascar crews of the Star were transferred to her sister ship after she was taken out of commission. This vessel is known as the Tarkay and her next appearance in the port will be in April.’

  ‘Do you think this Somar Singh will be on it?’

  ‘I’m told it’s likely, though the hiring of the crews in India is not always to be relied upon. Also a request has to be made to the ship’s captain to speak to the man if he is on board. It can be done through official channels of course.’

  Eve didn’t know what to feel. She had tried to come to terms with the loss of Raj and she feared this investigation would stir up all the pain again.

  ‘Why are you taking this trouble?’ she asked.

  Charlie smiled at her. ‘It’s all in the line of duty.’

  ‘What is this about?’ asked Joseph, speaking for the first time.

  Eve knew she had to tell him the truth. It was only fair as she was living under his roof and enjoying his hospitality. ‘Charlie is a policeman, Joseph.’ She blushed as she glanced at the young constable.

  ‘You ain’t doing this out of the goodness of yer heart, son,’ said Peg accusingly. ‘What’s the catch?’

  Charlie just raised his shoulders slightly. ‘It seems to me that there is more to be discovered about Mrs Kumar’s husband’s death.’

  ‘Well, you are in the minority, son. Your high and mighty principles won’t cut much ice with your superiors and neither will they with joe public. Don’t you know this is Isle Street and we are the forgotten few?’

  Eve intervened. ‘Peg, I’d like to hear what else he’s got to say.’

  Joseph stood up. ‘I think it is time to make tea. Will you help me, Peg?’

  She went reluctantly. ‘I need a fag anyway. The sight of the law always makes me nervous.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ apologized Eve when they were alone.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m growing a thick skin.’

  ‘When are you going to take your barrow?’

  He smiled. ‘When you’ve finished with it.’

  There was silence until they both spoke at once. ‘How are you and the boys?’ he asked eventually.

  Eve shrugged. ‘They’re back at school and I’ve found work.’

  ‘That’s good news.’

  Eve wanted to tell him all about it, but she didn’t know if she could trust him. In the East End telling the police anything other than lies was taboo. Yet he only seemed interested, not nosey.

  ‘I found a trader at Covent Garden to do business with.’ She didn’t say his name.

  Once again there was silence as she sat uncomfortably, while he watched her patiently. She wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But to her surprise, he said simply, ‘Did the council send the fumigator?’

  ‘No. They said we’re on the list.’

  ‘After the flood, everyone’s on it.’

  Eve was disappointed. ‘I bought some disinfectant and was going to try to do it myself. But yesterday the wind blew off the slates, leaving a big hole in the roof. ’

  ‘That’s not the end of the world. Roofs can be mended.’ He smiled again but this time the warmth reached his eyes. ‘Could you use an extra pair of hands this weekend? I’ve had a run of long duties but I’ve got Saturday and Sunday off. I could borrow me dad’s lad
der and nail the slates back.’

  Eve sat there, once more thinking of Peg’s warning.

  He laughed at her expression. ‘I promise not to tell anyone I’m a policeman. I hope it doesn’t make any difference to you.’

  She looked away. What did he mean by that?

  Their conversation was interrupted as Joseph returned with the tea.

  Charlie pulled up his collar and strode briskly along Westferry Road. He would walk back to Stepney and enjoy the fresh air even though it was freezing cold. He wanted to think over what had just taken place and try to sort out his feelings. He hadn’t meant to tell her anything other than the facts. That they might be able to shed some light on her husband’s death by interviewing this lascar. But then he had gone on to ask her personal questions and found himself becoming more involved. He could have stayed off the topic of the cottage and certainly not offered to nail the slates back on the roof. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, he’d had a fair bit of experience in that line, doing up his dad’s shop and helping his twin brothers George and Joe on their houses. He could turn his hand to just about anything and it was true that he had this weekend off. But there was a match on Saturday afternoon. He couldn’t miss that as they’d won their last one four–two. The team were still on a high and if he told Robbie he was helping out Eve, he’d get a right earful. He could protest all he liked about wanting justice and fairness and it was all in the line of duty. But was it?

  As she had said, the case was closed. He’d had no real authority when he went to the Transfer Office to find out about this sailor. He’d more or less insinuated he was following up enquiries. They’d been only too helpful, mind. It wasn’t often that an interest was taken in lascar seamen. The blokes he had spoken to could hardly speak English anyway.

  Charlie passed the Queens and looked at the brightly lit posters of the forthcoming events. On Friday night the locals took their turn, enjoying a moment of glory as they followed in the footsteps of the great entertainers, Harry Champion, Sable Fern and Marie Lloyd. A few people were gathered outside the doors of the theatre. An old man was begging, his cap outstretched. Charlie took a sixpence from his pocket and dropped it into the worn cloth.