Eve of the Isle

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Eve of the Isle Page 16

by Carol Rivers


  ‘Not on your nelly. There’s five of us blokes in one room at my gaff up Shoreditch. Talk about plates of meat!’

  Eve took his sleeve and drew him close. ‘Jimmy, did you find out anything at the docks?’

  ‘Yeah, listen.’ He glanced over her shoulder and whispered, ‘None of the crew would talk but I saw this poor sod – begging he was, close to the ship an’ all. So I says to him, “Do you happen to know a lascar called Somar Singh, chum? Sailed on the Tarkay.” He gave me the old vacant stare but I thought to meself, he’s hungry and needs a few bob so I’ll show him a tanner. “If you can help me, I’ll give you this,” I says and it works a miracle. The glint of silver causes an immediate understanding of the old vernacular as he replies, “Sailortown, sahib, Singh in sailortown!”’

  ‘But sailortown could be anywhere,’ said Eve, disappointed, ‘from here to Aldgate.’

  ‘I know,’ nodded Jimmy, putting up his hands. ‘So, dropping the tanner in his turban, I then fishes in me pocket for another. His eyes are like organ stops then.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Jimmy puffed out his chest. ‘Done the trick, it did, as I says, “Give me a nod mate if you mean Wapping” and I waits, then I says, “or Limehouse” – and still he don’t move – “or Shadwell.” And his head goes up and down like a flag on a pint of ale.’

  Eve caught her breath. ‘You sure he understood?’

  ‘No doubt about it.’

  ‘Did you get any more?’

  ‘Word’s out the Tarkay leaves soon, maybe in a week or so.’

  ‘So Singh is still in Shadwell!’

  ‘Yeah. But—’ He looked at Eve uncertainly. ‘You can’t go there on your own, it’s full of sharks and harpies.’

  But Eve wasn’t listening. She was already planning her route.

  It was something she had to do.

  That afternoon, the Higgins turned out in force to help with the move. Though there was no barrow, Duggie’s hand cart was filled many times over and the front door was mended and nailed back. The walls were distempered and the quarry tiles washed till they shone. The closet was inspected for traces of life and Eve hung fresh pieces of newspaper from the nail.

  ‘Can I go to the lav now?’ asked Albert when she’d finished. ‘Nothing’s gonna come up and bite me bum is it?’

  ‘No, it’s safe.’

  But when Albert was in there Samuel shouted out. ‘Albert, I seen a rat.’

  There was hollering from inside and Albert burst out. His pants were at half mast.

  ‘It was only a joke,’ Eve intervened as they began to fight. ‘Now go and help Jimmy.’

  The afternoon progressed with a lot of hard work but when Joseph arrived with a pan of okroshka, all activity stopped. They carried the table into the yard as there were too many to seat in the kitchen. A pitcher of ale appeared, glasses were filled and the hot stew filled each plate.

  ‘For foreign grub that wasn’t bad,’ nodded Eric, smacking his lips.

  ‘Very nice,’ agreed Maude. ‘I couldn’t have done better meself.’

  ‘Praise indeed,’ smiled Joseph as second helpings were served.

  Eve looked around at the happy gathering. Even though the cottage left much to be desired, she was so happy to be home. Inside, the stove was lit and no bugs had appeared. The beds were aired and a fire burned in Peg’s room. The cottage would soon be warm and snug.

  ‘Cheers!’ shouted Duggie, raising his glass. ‘Here’s to the old gates of Rome!’

  The men downed their beer as the sun set, shedding rays across the yard. Eve looked fondly at Joseph beside her.

  ‘Don’t know what we would have done without you,’ she told him.

  ‘Kol tuv,’ murmured Joseph, patting her hand. ‘I wish you all the best in your new life.’

  Eve smiled. It was going to be a new life from now on. She was determined to make it so.

  The following Friday, Eve was standing on the corner of Westferry Road. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, a sunny and windless day. She had sold all her flowers and had just put away her money bag under the folds of her skirt when a horse and cart rumbled by. The driver pulled on the reins. ‘Eve, girl!’

  She stepped into the road. ‘Archie. What are you doing round here?’

  ‘Got meself a perk.’ He winked and nodded over his shoulder. The cart was piled high with sacks.

  ‘What’s in them?’

  ‘Brown sugar, all split bags. Me mate, a stevedore, gave me the nod, said he’d show me where the sacks were if I could bag ’em up and get them out of the way sharpish. Got one more load tomorrow.’

  ‘Ain’t you worried about the dock coppers?’

  ‘Nah, they can be bought. It’s the blues and the whites you got to watch out for. They don’t like nothing happening without their say so. But my pal stood on guard for me and I bunged him a drink.’

  Eve knew that he was referring to the dock unions of which there were many. They kept an eagle eye on their members and were known by the colour of their membership cards, either blue or white.

  He glanced at the empty baskets. ‘Business good is it?’

  ‘Yes, very.’

  ‘Better be off, I’m going up the Ratcliffe Highway to shift this lot.’

  ‘Would you take a passenger?’

  He frowned. ‘You going up there?’

  ‘Got to see someone up there.’

  ‘What, in sailortown?’ He looked startled.

  ‘No, the park,’ she lied.

  He shrugged. ‘All right then, climb aboard and I’ll take you as far as the park. Bung them baskets on the back.’

  Eve did as he said and sat beside him; her heart was racing at the rash decision she had made, asking for a ride. But the Tarkay set sail soon. And now that Archie was going that way, it was too good an opportunity to miss. Anyway, it was too late now, she thought, as Archie clicked his tongue and the horse plodded off.

  Archie reined in the horse. ‘Whoa there, boy.’ He turned to Eve. ‘Do you want me to wait for you?’

  ‘No thanks. Don’t know how long I’ll be.’

  ‘Leave your baskets with me, then. I’ll drop them off early in the morning.’

  Eve nodded. ‘Thanks, Archie.’

  ‘Take care of yourself. Don’t like it round this way much. See yer tomorrow.’

  When the cart had gone, Eve hurried briskly along. She would make her enquiries swiftly as she didn’t want to be here after dark.

  Peg walked in to her front room, the room she had once thought she might never use again. It still didn’t smell healthy, but it was clean. The stove in the kitchen and the fire in the grate had helped to dry out the cottage. But if the water had risen a few more inches, they’d still have been scraping the contents of the drains from the chimney!

  The sound of the boys’ voices drifted in from the street. They were having a rare old time. When she’d told them they could go out to play, their faces had been rays of sunshine.

  She glanced at the mantel clock. Half past seven. It was unusual for Eve to be late. But perhaps she’d gone to the Queens after the factory gates. Made a few posies of what was left.

  She smiled again as she watched from the window. Samuel kicked the ball, though it didn’t go far. As flat as a pancake it was and well past its prime. Albert dug in his trousers for the liquorice sticks Peg had bought them. They squatted in the gutter, eating and laughing together. They were good-looking nippers, but a sitting target for those bullies at school. With the stigma of their dad being a lascar and dead into the bargain, they had had a lot to deal with.

  Peg sighed thoughtfully. Would it be any different if Raj was still alive, she wondered. Could he have defended them? He’d been gentle and sensitive, but he hadn’t been a fighter. He’d loved his wife and his boys and put money on the table for his family. They’d been content with the little they had. It was so unfair that he’d drowned.

  Peg sat down on the chair by the grate. Expertly rolling a cigare
tte she inhaled with a satisfying gulp of smoke. She would give the boys another half hour then call them in. Eve would chew her off, but it was worth it.

  Peg only realized she had dozed off when the pain woke her. The cigarette had fallen from her fingers to her thigh. She jumped up, brushing off the burning ash. There was a hole in her skirt.

  ‘Bugger.’ She picked up the dog end and threw it into the grate.

  As she looked up, she saw it was eight o’ clock. It was time to call the boys in, get them ready for prayers and bed.

  Eve left the green lawns of the King Edward the Seventh Park behind her. It had been busy with people enjoying the late afternoon sun. Some strolled on the grass, others sat on benches while the children played, their laughter drifting on the breeze.

  The twins had been a year old when she had last come here. The memory was bitter sweet. Samuel had been in Raj’s arms and Albert straddled her hip; it had been a happy day. It was a journey they had made especially to see the new park, and many visitors had come to enjoy the new facilities. Though the area known as sailortown was close by, the park was a welcome diversion, providing new and luxurious green lawns, a few young trees and a promenade overlooking the river. Many of the older buildings had been knocked down for its construction. The park had replaced many unwholesome buildings and was now a place of beauty. But today Eve didn’t linger here, instead she headed towards the meaner streets of Shadwell.

  A glimpse of the river appeared on her left. In between her and the Thames wound the tiny lanes of boat-builders, sail-makers, riggers, coopers and ships’ chandlers. She hurried on towards sailortown and the disreputable lodging houses and gaming institutions that were masked by grime-covered walls. That the dark side of life should run so closely to the wide open green spaces of the park was a surprise for Eve. She had never come as far south as this. Pushing her day’s takings deeper into the folds of her skirt, she pulled her shawl around her and shivered.

  Slowly the sun began to fade and Eve knew darkness would fall soon. She was beginning to think that it had been foolish of her to ask Archie for a ride. She shivered again in the cooling air.

  Were there steps behind her? She turned round and saw nothing. Lights were going on in the houses, and sailors began to emerge. They walked in noisy groups, eager to find a tavern.

  Eve kept her distance as they passed. Some shouted remarks and whistled, making her want to run back to the park and safety. She wasn’t sure she had enough courage to go on.

  Jimmy was trying to bear up under the verbal onslaught from Peg. He loved her like a mother, but sometimes her sharp tongue had him cringing. And tonight was one of those occasions. She hadn’t listened to a word he had said, just torn him off a strip for being late, before he could offer a word in his defence.

  ‘What have you been up to, Jimmy? Whose pockets have you been down? What fiddle have you been on?’

  ‘Hold your apple sauces, Peg, let me get me breath.’

  ‘What time do you call this to roll in?’

  He laughed. ‘It’s only ten o’clock.’

  ‘It feels like the middle of the night. You always disappear the minute you’re needed. You’re like bloody Houdini.’

  ‘Peg, sit down. Take a breath and tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘Where’s me fags?’

  ‘Your baccy’s on the windowsill as usual.’ He gave it to her. ‘I’ll put the kettle on whilst you light up.’

  ‘Don’t bother. I’m full to the eyeballs with tea. I’ve been here on me Darby and Joan, drinking one cup after another.’

  He pushed her down gently on a chair. ‘Now what’s all this about?’

  Peg ran her hands through her tangled grey hair. ‘She ain’t home, that’s what’s wrong.’

  Jimmy frowned. ‘You mean Eve?’

  ‘The latest she ever come back from the Queens or the factories is eight.’

  ‘But it’s only ten.’

  ‘Don’t keep saying that. I can tell the bloody time.’

  ‘What I mean is, it’s not that late.’

  ‘It is for Eve. I put the boys to bed meself.’

  Jimmy pulled out a chair and sat down. He knew as well as Peg that Eve never missed their bed times. She said their prayers with them as regular as clockwork.

  ‘I let them play out in the street tonight,’ said Peg, staring into space. ‘I knew their mother wouldn’t like it. Not since Sister Mary’s dressing down. They told me they’d done their homework and I didn’t see why they shouldn’t have a bit of fresh air. I was preparing meself for a bit of a showdown when she came home. Thing is, she never did.’

  Jimmy didn’t like the sound of this. Had it anything to do with what he had found out for her? But surely she wouldn’t go to Shadwell on her own and at this time of night?

  ‘Where can she be?’ Peg’s lips trembled around the thin cigarette.

  ‘Have you been up to Joseph?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And the Higgins?’

  ‘Them too.’

  ‘They ain’t seen her?’

  ‘You know the answer to that.’

  Jimmy tapped his dirty fingers on the table. ‘She say anything to you about going somewhere?’

  Peg rolled her anxious eyes. ‘Do you think I’d be as worried as I am if she had? You silly sod, don’t ask daft questions.’

  ‘Right, I’ll go and look for her.’ He pulled on his cap and jumped up. ‘I’ll cycle up to Poplar and back again.’

  ‘Take the Tilley on yer bike.’

  He watched Peg turn up the wick of the Tilley and put a taper to it. Then giving her a peck on her cheek he hurried out to the yard. Placing the lamp carefully in his basket, he lifted the front wheel over the crumbled wall. As the dark night enveloped him, he tried to keep his fear in check. If Eve didn’t turn up, there was only one place she was likely to be.

  And he didn’t want to think about that.

  Eve stepped through the doors of the Drunken Sailor and the fumes enveloped her. The air was thick with tobacco smoke. Men were talking, drinking and laughing together.

  Her arm was roughly taken. A tall man with a beard pulled her to him. ‘On yer own are you? Come and sit on me lap.’

  There was laughter from his friends as they jostled round.

  ‘You’re a flower-seller, ain’t you?’ He stared at her working clothes.

  ‘What you got for sale, love? Come over here and show me.’

  Eve managed to pull away. She pushed through the crowd to the bar where the landlord was serving.

  ‘What do you want?’ His dirty shirtsleeves were rolled across his tattooed arms.

  ‘I’m looking for a man named Somar Singh.’

  He frowned at her. ‘Who wants to know?’

  ‘My name is Eve Kumar.’

  ‘And what would you want with a lascar?’

  ‘You know he’s a lascar?’

  ‘The name suggests it, girl.’

  ‘He’s from the ship called the Tarkay. He sailed with my husband Raj on the Star of Bengal five years ago.’

  ‘You was married to a lascar?’

  Eve nodded and the big man rubbed his bearded jaw. ‘It’s dangerous to be a woman on your own in these parts. Ain’t you got no one with you?’

  ‘I only want to find this man.’

  He took another look at her. Then calling for the barmaid, he nodded to the door at the side. ‘Go through there.’

  Eve made her way round, pushing past the men who gave her long looks. The landlord opened the door and nodded. She went in to a dark passage. The door slammed behind her.

  Eve followed him, each step she took making her more uneasy.

  Suddenly he turned sharply. ‘A word of advice, girl. There’s a few of ’em in this room, all enjoying the vices of sailortown. Any fool can see it’s risky for a woman to enter. But see that door over there? It leads to the street. If I were you, I’d take it.’

  Eve considered this, but shook her head.

  ‘Be
tter watch yerself, then. I’ve said all I can to deter you.’

  ‘What does Somar Singh look like?’

  ‘He’s a big bugger, wears a jacket with brass buttons, like a flamin’ admiral. Lords it a bit over the others. Now, at the risk of repeating meself, if I was you, girl, I’d turn round and go out that door, forget about lascars and go back to where you come from.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘Be it on your own head, then.’ He left her, and Eve stood in the silence. She had found Somar Singh, but what would she say to him? The first question she would ask was if he had known Raj at the time of his death.

  She tried to stop shaking. It wasn’t too late to change her mind. The landlord had shown her the other door. But if she walked through it onto the street she might never find Singh again.

  The air was thick with a pungent smell as Eve stepped into the back room. All she could see were shapes both seated and lying on the floor. No one spoke.

  Eve blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. ‘I’m looking for Somar Singh,’ she stammered, suppressing a cough as the putrid smell surrounded her. ‘My name is Eve . . . Eve Kumar. My husband was Raj Kumar. He sailed as cook on the Star of Bengal and was lost overboard five years ago.’ She stopped. No one moved or broke the silence. ‘If Somar Singh isn’t here, then does anyone know where I can find him?’

  Still silence prevailed.

  Then everything happened at once. Bodies rushed past her and she stumbled back as arms and legs sped by.

  When all was quiet again, one man remained. A row of brass buttons ran down his jacket.

  Eve tried to regain her balance as she clutched at the wall. The whites of the man’s eyes shone in the darkness.

  He moved slowly towards her.

  Then everything went black.

  Jimmy had cycled so fast and so far, he had to stop to catch his breath. He knew by the town hall clock that it was past midnight, the big chimes making him realize how desperate the situation was. He had been cycling round Poplar and the island for two hours. He’d watched the crowds pour out of the Queens, going happily on their way after a good night’s entertainment. Now there was no one around save a few drunks, singing their way back home and one or two carts that rumbled and creaked along the highway. A flash or two of a Tilley, an odd motor vehicle and definitely no women. Even the dock dollies were occupied on the waterfront and wouldn’t come up this way.

 

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