Eve of the Isle

by Carol Rivers

  Charlie took a minute to get his bearings. ‘A visitor? What time is it?’

  ‘Half three.’

  ‘You still cooking?’

  ‘No, we’re all done now. Your mother and me are going for our kip now. Won’t get more than a few hours as it’s Saturday. You gonna lend us a hand in the shop?’

  ‘Yeah, ’course.’

  ‘Good lad. Now get downstairs and see what your chum wants. I’m off to me bed.’

  Assuming it was Robbie, for it could only be him at this hour, Charlie threw off the covers hurriedly. What the devil did Robbie want? Had he been drinking until this hour and decided to play some sort of joke? If that was the case, he’d find out pretty soon that robbing a man of his well-earned kip would brook him no favours.

  Charlie dragged on his trousers and shirt. With the disturbing memory of the dream still in his head, he hurried down the narrow flight of stairs that led to the bakery. As children, Charlie and his two brothers had enjoyed the diversity of the old building, playing tag, or hiding from one another in the warren of rooms above the bakery. From outside the row of shops seemed to be squashed together in a crooked line, but it had always been a happy home to them. They had helped out in the bakery, run errands and even pulled pies from the hot ovens and delivered them, still sizzling, to the local traders. Pounding down the wooden staircase, the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread engulfed him. He should be accustomed to it after all these years, but there was something about the smell that never failed to give him a sense of well-being. And by the time he reached the lower floor, his irritation at having been woken was already subsiding.

  Charlie hurried past the little store room filled with provisions for the benefit of the local tradesmen, marketeers and rounds men. As he approached the counter, he saw the trays of freshly baked bread arranged on shelves, ready for the first purchasers of the day. The little shop at the front would be bustling, filled to capacity. As a family baker of long standing, his parents were well respected. Even the Jewish shopkeepers traded with them on occasion. His dad’s bagels were beyond belief.

  The light was on in the shop and Charlie blinked. He was surprised to see not Robbie, but Jimmy Jones, Eve’s friend.

  The boy was ashen faced and dripping sweat. ‘I come on me bike, Charlie,’ he said in a rush, ‘been looking for you – didn’t have no number or street. Only knew your dad’s shop was off the Commercial Road.’

  ‘Hey, take it easy lad. You look done in.’

  ‘Charlie, I . . .’

  ‘Here, get your breath. Come and sit down.’ Charlie led him behind the counter and pulled out a stool. He brushed off the flour. The boy was out of breath and panting. ‘Do you want a drink?’

  ‘Yeah, wouldn’t mind.’

  Charlie ran cold water from the tap in the store room and handed Jimmy the enamel mug. He downed it in one.

  ‘That better?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Now, take your time and tell me what’s wrong.’ Charlie was certain there was something amiss.

  ‘It’s . . . it’s about the ship, the one that’s docked in the Pool, the Tarkay.’

  Charlie stiffened his back. ‘What do you know about that?’

  ‘Eve showed me your note.’

  Charlie slowly pulled out another stool and sat down. ‘Now why would she do that?’

  Jimmy rubbed his wet lashes and blinked. ‘I got this new job see. It’s down at the PLA, running for the bosses. I gets about a bit, sees a lot of them lascars going and coming. So Eve shows me your note and asks me to find out something if I can. So I can’t refuse, can I? Not Eve.’

  Charlie felt a wave of apprehension. ‘So what did you find out?’

  ‘This beggar tells me Singh is in sailortown, Shadwell to be precise.’

  Charlie swallowed hard. His mouth was going dry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If Eve had wanted help, why hadn’t she come to him?

  ‘Eve didn’t come home last night,’ Jimmy continued, his eyes full of fear. ‘Peg and me, we don’t know what to do. But I remembered the name on your dad’s van and—’

  ‘Are you saying Eve’s gone to Shadwell?’ Charlie felt sick to his stomach.

  The boy nodded.

  ‘Could she be anywhere else, with a neighbour, a friend?’

  ‘We tried ’em all.’

  ‘When did you last see her?’

  Jimmy frowned. ‘Friday morning it was, before she left for work. I was jumping on me bike and waved.’

  ‘She didn’t say she was going to Shadwell then?’

  ‘No, doubt if she would. She knew I was against it. I told her to come after you.’

  ‘Well, she didn’t.’

  ‘It was her pride, Charlie. I knew she wanted to.’

  ‘She told you I was a copper?’

  ‘Yeah. Don’t make no difference to me though. I know you ain’t like the rest. That’s why I’m here.’

  ‘You did right, lad.’ Charlie rose to his feet, pushing his hand through his hair. He tried to clear his mind, think calmly. ‘But I can’t believe you’d leave it till now.’

  ‘Didn’t suss where she’d gone till last night. Wished I’d never told her about Singh.’

  It came home to Charlie then that if he hadn’t tried to contact Eve again, hadn’t written to her of the Tarkay, she would be at home now, safe and sound.

  ‘It’s not your fault. I thought she would come to me.’

  Charlie drew his hand over the back of his neck. He tried to think what to do first. He was a policeman, for God’s sake, he should know the ropes. Was that what he should do first? Go to the station and report her missing? Or should he search himself? He wanted to do everything at once. As he considered the options, a cold calm came over him. First he would get out his dad’s van, drive with Jimmy to Shadwell, have a look round. If they could see nothing, find nothing, do nothing, then he’d go straight to the station and make a report.

  As Charlie gathered his coat and his senses together, he was aware that dawn had broken. A soft light was making its way through the shop window. His parents would be rising in a couple of hours and he’d offered to help them.

  He’d leave a short note, say that he’d borrowed the van and lock the shop behind him. He was lucky to have no duty this weekend. Though if he couldn’t find Eve in the next hour or two, he’d be down at the station anyway, only this time not in his professional capacity but as a friend of the missing person.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ Samuel asked as he sat down at the kitchen table for his breakfast. ‘She didn’t say prayers with us last night.’

  Peg waved her hand. ‘You was asleep when she got in.’

  ‘She said she was taking us to St Saviour’s this morning.’ Albert joined his brother at the table. ‘We got to make our confession.’

  Peg shrugged. ‘It won’t hurt you to go on your own. Now, eat your porridge.’

  Albert pushed away his bowl. ‘Don’t want any.’

  ‘It’s not like you to refuse food.’

  ‘I don’t want another ticking off from Father Flynn.’

  Samuel nodded. ‘Or me.’

  Peg would like to say a thing or two to that old misery Father Flynn. His hand shot out quicker than a lizard’s tongue when he was holding the offertory plate, but ask him to give a word or two of comfort to his flock and you’d be more likely to get sackcloth and a bell thrown at you.

  ‘He says he’s going to learn us the catechism.’ Samuel looked at his brother. ‘We’ll be in chapel all day. And it ain’t even Sunday.’

  Albert nodded. ‘It ain’t fair.’

  ‘No, I don’t reckon it is,’ agreed Peg as she washed the dishes. She knew her tongue was getting the better of her but she couldn’t have this. ‘Look, your mother will be upset if you don’t go to confession as she promised Sister Mary. But I tell you what, when the old bug – Father Flynn,’ she corrected herself swiftly, ‘has finished giving you the lecture, then you tell him you can’t stop as you’re gonna hel
p me with the chores and if he wants to contest that, he can walk down to Isle Street and I’ll tell him personally.’

  Samuel and Albert giggled.

  ‘He won’t like it, but he knows better than to upset old Peg.’ She dried her hands on the towel and pulled open the table drawer. Inside it were the sweets she kept alongside her spare tin of tobacco. She gave the boys two long strips of liquorice. ‘Don’t eat them all at once and take a handkerchief to wipe yer lips.’

  They dashed upstairs and she listened to the sound of their boots on the floorboards as they got themselves ready.

  She had not had to explain their mum’s absence thank goodness. If only Jimmy would hurry back and let her know what had happened.

  ‘’Bye Peg.’ The boys ran out of the front door. She watched them play fight in the road and wondered if she should seize her chance now they had gone to look for their mother. But they wouldn’t be long. She had given them the excuse to come home early and the thought of going to the police station was as repugnant now as it was last night.

  She stood indecisively as a cart came down the hill. To Peg’s surprise the big horse stopped a few yards away and a whiskery looking fellow jumped down. He pulled two baskets from the back.

  Peg felt her blood run cold. They were Eve’s.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘We’ll try the waterfront now so keep your eyes peeled,’ Charlie told Jimmy as they left the Commercial Road.

  Jimmy suppressed a yawn as he pushed his face up to the window.

  ‘Are you supposed to be at work this morning?’

  ‘Yeah, the boss will have to run his own errands.’

  Charlie felt a good deal of respect for this young lad. He was risking his job to find Eve.

  ‘If Singh is on shore leave,’ Charlie said quietly, ‘he’ll stay in lodgings. Perhaps with a woman, perhaps on his own.’

  ‘We can’t go knocking on every door.’

  ‘No, but it’s the doss houses we’re interested in.’

  ‘We’ll have our work cut out,’ Jimmy frowned. ‘No one takes kindly to enquiries in sailortown.’

  Charlie knew Jimmy had a point. Yet what other course of action could he take?

  After a short drive, interrupted frequently by the early morning traders, their horses and carts and a few trams and buses, they arrived in the shabby streets of Shadwell. Here there was no movement from the near to derelict houses.

  Charlie brought the van to a halt. Singh could be in any one of these stinking, truly shameful dwellings. Most of the doors were bolted by their hard-bitten landladies, pimps and prostitutes. Charlie had made a foray down this way in his training days. Even Sergeant Moody had not stayed long here to press the theft enquiry they were conducting.

  Charlie got out of the van and narrowed his eyes at the silent street. The morning had a slight bite to it, and the silence was broken only by the distant river traffic and the cries of gulls overhead.

  ‘You sure about this?’ Jimmy asked nervously.

  ‘Stay in the van if you want.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Jimmy pulled back his shoulders. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Go to the next road and knock. If you manage to get a response, ask for a room. Say your friend has told you there might be one going and you can pay a week’s rent up front. That way you’ll get their interest. Only then mention Singh is your friend. See if you get a result.’

  ‘What kind of result?’

  ‘You’ll know when you get it.’

  Charlie watched the boy walk off, his shoulders sloping under his dirty jacket. Had he done right in allowing the youngster to accompany him?

  Charlie made his way to the first front door and knocked. There was no reply so he knocked again. He wasn’t surprised when the window above him opened and a woman leaned out.

  ‘What the bleeding hell do you want?’

  ‘Do you take lodgers?’ Charlie called up.

  ‘Not at this time of the morning. Now bugger off.’ The sash window came down with a crunch.

  Charlie braced himself. He hoped that Jimmy would have better luck.

  Eve felt herself being pulled up. The hands that were gripping her were rough and dug painfully into her arms. A light pierced her vision and she moaned as the daylight blinded her. Then suddenly she was blind again, but this time a cloth was pulled over her head. There were men shouting in an agitated way, but they weren’t speaking English so Eve had no idea what they were saying.

  Her wrists were bound and she was lifted and thrown like a sack of potatoes over a man’s shoulder. He hurried along and she bounced up and down, driving the wind from her lungs. A moment later she was bundled onto a cart. She could feel the swaying and bumping over the cobbles, hear the horse’s hooves clip-clopping.

  Fear was paralyzing her. All she could do was lie there, her heart pounding in her ears.

  There were voices again, close by. Couldn’t anyone see her? Help her?

  She tried to cry out, but the cloth smothered her cries. As fear overwhelmed her, a memory returned. She was at the Drunken Sailor. She was following the landlord along a dark passage. He was warning her to go away. Once more she was in that stinking room, amidst the smoke and the smell of many bodies. She saw the faces looking up at her and a tall man in the shadows. He began to walk towards her . . .

  Eve screamed.

  The cart had stopped and she was carried off.

  Peg was sitting in her chair, staring at Archie Fuller.

  ‘Sorry to give you such a fright, gel.’ He passed the smelling salts back and forward under her nose. ‘I only come to return Eve’s baskets.’

  Peg nodded. ‘I dunno what came over me. S’pose it was seeing them and not her.’

  ‘You took a bit of a turn.’

  Peg grasped the bottle and took another sniff. She gave a half-hearted smile. ‘So you’re the Archie Fuller from Covent Garden?’

  ‘And you must be Peg.’

  ‘Yeah. Did she tell you about me?’

  ‘’Course she did. Didn’t ever talk about nothing else. It was always you and her boys. And business, of course.’

  Peg was just beginning to see Archie clearly. There had been two or three of him at one point. ‘Look Archie, what was you telling me? Sit down a minute.’

  ‘Can’t stop long. I’ve got someone waiting for me with a job lot of sugar.’

  ‘Did you say you gave Eve a ride yesterday?’

  He nodded. ‘She wanted to go to the King Edward Park at Shadwell.’

  ‘Why was she going there?’

  ‘Said she had someone to see.’

  Peg leaned forward. ‘Did she say who it was?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did she say anything else?’

  ‘No, but the funny thing was when I looked back she was walking past the park towards the water. Gave me a bit of a turn to tell the truth as I’d expected her to go in the gates. As she didn’t say who she was meeting and didn’t want me to hang around I thought to meself she might have a – well, you know, a romantic interest, it being the park an’ all.’

  Peg sighed to herself. If only it was a love interest!

  Archie sat back. ‘So what’s this all about then?’

  ‘It’s a long story, Archie. Eve ain’t come home.’

  ‘Well, maybe I was right then. She’s got a fella.’

  ‘Not to my knowledge she ain’t.’

  ‘Bet she don’t tell you everything.’ He smirked. ‘She’ll be back.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘After all it’s only one night. And a lovely gel like her, well she’s got to have an admirer or two.’ He winked.

  Peg was about to contest the point when she thought better of it. She didn’t know Archie well and he wouldn’t understand. He seemed a nice enough bloke but he wasn’t to know that Eve wasn’t the sort to stay out all night and not say where she was.

  ‘You all right on your own here?’ he asked as he rose to his feet.

  �
��Yes thanks, love. You get on.’

  ‘It’s been nice to meet you, Peg. Eve thinks the world of you and her kids. She’s a good girl and a hard worker. Don’t you fret now. She’ll be home soon.’

  Peg managed a smile.

  ‘I’ll see meself out.’

  Once alone, she gazed at the empty baskets. Tears filled her eyes. If only Eve had talked to her more, taken her into her confidence. But lately they hadn’t shared many chats. It wasn’t like it used to be when the boys were younger. Now they were growing up, Eve seemed to have distanced herself. What was the saying? Out with the old and in with the new?

  Peg put the bottle under her nose again. She coughed and sat there for some while thinking about what Archie had told her. Resting her head on the back of the chair she dozed.

  The bottle was still in her hand when she heard a noise outside. Before she had time to get up from the chair, Jimmy rushed in.

  ‘What is it son?’

  ‘Is she back yet?’

  ‘Does it look like it? What in God’s name has happened to your face?’

  Jimmy put his hand up. ‘I got meself a shiner.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I found Charlie at his dad’s shop and we went in the van to Shadwell. We decided to knock on a few doors to ask about Singh. One bloke was about ten feet tall with a mush like the back of a bus. He took umbrage to me waking him up early and gave me a bit of a verbal. So I gave him one back.’

  Peg sighed. ‘That sounds like you.’

  ‘Anyway, he clobbers me. I could smell last night’s beer on his breath as he steps forward to hit me again. But then Charlie appears. He helps me up and tells me to go back to the van, but this big ox, he takes Charlie’s shoulders with his great big Oliver Twists and is about to smash him too, when wallop! Charlie’s knuckle is like greased lightning. The ox doubles up clutching his guts. He keels over and Charlie and me leg it sharpish back to the van.’

  ‘Charlie clobbered someone because they hit you?’ Peg asked in disbelief.

  ‘Yeah, and it was a cracker.’

  Peg took another sniff of the salts. ‘Where’s Charlie now?’

  ‘Outside in the van. Says he’s going straight up to the old constipation to tell ’em about Eve.’