Eve of the Isle

by Carol Rivers

  At Hyde Park, Charlie parked the van in a side road and they strolled on the green to Rotten Row, where the Sunday horseriders slowly passed by. These were followed by well-groomed horses pulling elegant carriages and guided by top-hatted drivers.

  Eve smiled as they leaned together on the railings. ‘Is this where you usually come of a Sunday?’ she asked Charlie. He was dressed in Oxford bags and a tweed jacket that hid his broad chest and wide shoulders. He looked very handsome. Why was she noticing so much about him today? Was it because she no longer regarded him as just a policeman?

  ‘No, as a matter of fact I’m more likely to be found at Regent’s Park, at the carthorse meetings.’

  ‘You prefer carthorses to these animals?’

  ‘I do have a fondness for older horses,’ he admitted. ‘Dad used to take me to Regent’s Park as a kid as we had a cart before the van. It was a smart one too, with a painted running board with our name on it, and Dad sometimes let me drive it. Our carthorse got old though and finally went to the old carthorse home in the sky. Dad decided on a van then, easier for his rounds and the stable was converted to a garage.’

  ‘Your dad must have missed the horse.’

  ‘Yes, but times change.’

  ‘Is that when you learned to drive?’

  ‘Yes, my brothers and me. Even Mum had a go, but gave up when she reversed into a wall.’ He laughed again, his blue eyes twinkling. ‘The last time I came here was with a friend.’

  ‘Oh.’ Eve wondered who the lady was but didn’t ask.

  ‘There was a band playing,’ Charlie mused as yet another sleek brown horse trotted by with its well-dressed rider. ‘We sat over there and listened for a while.’

  ‘Does she like horses as well?’

  ‘What makes you think it was a she?’ He turned and leaned on the rail, gazing into her eyes.

  Eve felt embarrassed. ‘Don’t all young men of your age have young ladies?’

  He laughed. ‘I was with a mate from the Force. His passion is horses, though it’s not actually for riding them.’

  Eve was pleased it wasn’t a girl.

  He didn’t seem interested in telling her more about his friend or talking about his work. Eve was relieved as she didn’t want to talk about something that might remind her of Shadwell.

  The sun shone down through the trees to where they were standing, and Eve breathed in hoof-turned earth. The park was very green and leafy and all around people were having a good time.

  ‘The boys would have liked this,’ she mused.

  ‘Do they always go to church on Sundays?’

  ‘Their teacher, Sister Mary, says their religious education is important.’

  ‘Do you think that too?’

  ‘St Saviour’s is a good school and I don’t want them to get behind.’

  ‘Perhaps one Sunday you could make an exception?’

  She laughed. ‘We wouldn’t be having this conversation if they were with us. It would be, “Charlie, what’s this?” and “Charlie, what’s that?” and you’d be dragged all over the place and never given a minute to think.’

  ‘I’m quite used to that. I’ve got plenty of nieces and nephews.’

  ‘Yes, the boys told me.’

  He smiled. ‘I’d like you to meet them one day.’

  Eve blushed.

  He took her hand and placed it over his arm. ‘Let’s walk. And since you’ve warned me that after today, I’m not very likely to have your undivided attention, you can tell me more about yourself, and if you’re interested, I’ll tell you about me.’

  As they walked, Eve told him about her childhood and he listened attentively to her description of her flower-selling days with her Irish-born mother. She went on to explain how her father had died from yellow fever and her mother soon after. When she spoke about Raj and the wonderful husband and father he had been, she felt a little uneasy. Here she was walking with another man, her hand on his arm, enjoying the sweetness of life that Raj had been robbed of.

  But when she had finished, he, in turn, told her of his early years as the youngest son of a shopkeeper. When he described his parents, his twin brothers George and Joe and his nieces and nephews his voice was filled with tenderness. But she was surprised at his cool tone when he spoke of his job and Sergeant Moody, the policeman she had met at Bambury Buildings. Then there was Charlie’s friend Robbie Lawrence, who had come here before with Charlie. Eve was eager to hear more about him but Charlie returned to his love of football and the family bakery.

  As the morning drew to a close, they returned to the van. Eve enjoyed the sunny ride back to the island, happy that not one word had been spoken about Shadwell.

  That experience felt more and more like a dream and she didn’t want to think about it now. And neither, it appeared, did Charlie.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Eve went to work early on Monday morning she wondered when her flowers would arrive. She stood on the corner of Westferry Road, watching each cart go by.

  It was a cloudy day, but as Eve waited her mind drifted back to the day before, bringing a rush of heat to her skin. When they had got back to the cottage, Samuel and Albert were waiting eagerly to see Charlie. To her surprise he produced a brand new football from the back of the van. The twins’ eyes had come out on stalks. He’d taken them in the van to Island Gardens and they had spent an hour playing football before he had dropped them back. Their cheeks had been bursting with colour.

  Eve was smiling at the memory as a horse and cart pulled up. The toothless driver dressed in a long leather coat and cap let down the back of the cart. ‘These for you, ducks?’ He nodded to the bunches of flowers, sprays and posies.

  ‘Did Queenie send them?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Eve was delighted with the stock. ‘Will you be delivering tomorrow?’

  ‘Yeah, should be.’

  And with that he slapped the horse’s rump with the reins and the cart rumbled off. Eve hardly had time to inspect her stock before her first customers arrived. They were the two girls from the pickle factory on their way to work. ‘Save them roses for me,’ said one of the girls getting out her purse and paying. ‘I’ll pick them up on me dinner hour.’

  Eve sold well throughout the morning. Some of her customers had missed her and others told her that even the Cox Street and Chrisp Street markets couldn’t beat her prices. Eve was flushed with success. It was only at tea time that a fearful thought came into her mind. It was at this time of day that Archie had given her that fateful ride to the King Edward Park.

  Her last bunch of chrysanthemums sold to an elderly lady going to the cemetery. As Eve prepared to leave, she thought again about the wonderful morning she had shared with Charlie. ‘Can I call round next Sunday?’ he had asked.

  And the boys, of course, had answered for her.

  The following Sunday, the last in May, Eve allowed the boys to miss Mass. She knew Sister Mary would have something to say about it, but she had promised them a special treat. Instead of going to Mass, Charlie was taking them to the city.

  As Eve predicted, the boys kept Charlie busy with questions and seized any opportunity to play football. The parks provided plenty of space and the weather kept warm and dry. As Charlie didn’t have to return the van early, they stayed out all day, ending with a picnic at Regent’s Park.

  When Charlie was breathless from all the exercise he sat down beside Eve on the grass. With his open-necked white shirt and cream flannels he looked very young and athletic. The sun was drifting down behind the leafy trees, but its rays still crept over the green grass, making lacy shadows on the lawns. The laughter from Samuel and Albert and two other boys they had palled up with to play football, drifted over to where they sat. Eve poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to Charlie.

  He gulped it back quickly after which he ate several of the thinly cut cheese sandwiches she had prepared. Giving a deep sigh of satisfaction, he turned on his side. ‘How are things at home?’


  She smiled. ‘Joan has given Peg a new lease of life. It was all aches and pains before and now she’s like a two year old trying to keep up with Joan and her attempts to get out to the pub.’

  ‘And Harold hasn’t called?’

  ‘No. I don’t think he will.’ She looked into Charlie’s eyes. ‘Charlie, did he really have the nerve to come to the station and ask about me?’

  ‘Yes, but I told him I wasn’t at liberty to discuss your case.’

  ‘You’ve never said.’

  ‘I didn’t know if you knew and thought it was better forgotten.’

  ‘Do you know why we left there?’

  ‘No, was it something to do with him?’

  Eve nodded. ‘Joan wouldn’t believe me when I said what he did.’

  Charlie sat upright. ‘What did he do?’

  Eve blushed. ‘I had to use me knee.’

  ‘What? The—!’ He stopped abruptly as she put up her hand.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, he didn’t do nothing but there was no question about us staying on at Bambury Buildings after that. And later, Peg told me the same thing happened to her many years ago, which caused the family rift. But now Joan isn’t drinking, Peg is worried she’ll go back to kick Harold’s other woman out.’

  ‘Would she really try that?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Eve paused. ‘Is there anything she could do to get her out in a peaceful way?’

  ‘It’s a domestic situation,’ Charlie replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. ‘It rather depends on whether Joan and Harold make it up.’

  ‘Yes, I s’pose so.’

  ‘If he won’t let her back then I think she would have to get herself legally represented.’

  ‘I can’t see Joan doing that.’

  ‘It might all blow over,’ Charlie said reassuringly. ‘You shouldn’t be worrying about Joan. After all she is an adult and has to make her own choices.’

  Eve gazed into the fading sun. ‘Don’t know how long she’ll lay off the booze though.’

  Charlie nodded. ‘It’s a difficult situation.’

  Eve laughed. ‘That’s putting it nicely. We seem to have a lot of family skeletons in our cupboard.’

  Charlie grinned. ‘Every family has those.’

  Eve made a face. ‘Not in yours. From what you’ve told me, your family sounds really nice and decent.’ She looked under her lashes. ‘Just like you.’

  He grinned. ‘So you think I’m decent, eh? Suppose I have another side to my character that I haven’t revealed yet?’

  Eve giggled. ‘That would be the policeman side I suppose.’

  He made a mock grimace. ‘It might be.’

  ‘I think I like the policeman Charlie too.’

  ‘Do you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Well, since we seem to be friends, I wonder if you’d like to meet Mum and Dad?

  Eve almost jumped. ‘What?’

  ‘They’d like to meet you.’

  Eve shook her head. ‘Charlie, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Why?’ He sat closer. ‘I’ve met your family.’

  ‘It’s different.’

  ‘Is it? Tell me why.’

  ‘Because . . . because . . .’ she stumbled over putting her doubts into words. ‘I’m not what they’d expect. I was married and have children . . .’ She didn’t add ‘and live in Isle Street’ to the list although she was thinking it.

  ‘What difference does that make?’ Charlie took her hand. ‘I’m on duty next weekend but the Sunday after I’m off. I know the boys go to church in the morning, so would you all come to tea?’

  Eve was stunned into silence. The fact that he was holding her hand startled her so much she wasn’t aware of the twins staring down at them, giggling as Charlie quickly withdrew it.

  When Sunday came, Charlie arrived at half past three on the dot.

  ‘Charlie’s here!’ cried the twins who had been looking out of the window for the past hour. Eve had made them wear clean white shirts and ties, their Sunday best jackets and trousers, all brushed and rag cleaned for the occasion. The darns in their long grey socks were disguised and their boots were shined until any blemish was hidden. Only the sound of the many metal Blakeys in the soles gave a clue as to their age.

  Eve had made a visit to the market on Friday. She planned to wear a navy skirt and white blouse and had bought a dark green wrap-over jacket with a side clasp to complement it. She had replaced missing buttons and turned the faded collar, adding a petersham braid to relieve the severity. She wanted to look smart as it was a Sunday visit, but most of all, she didn’t want to let Charlie down. Therefore the addition of a hat was equally necessary. It came in the form of another secondhand purchase: a rust-coloured cloche with an upturned brim that shaped Eve’s face and accentuated the shining pleat of her thick brown hair.

  As Samuel and Albert ran out of the door to greet Charlie, Eve hurried downstairs. Peg, Joan and Jimmy waited in the hall. ‘You look nice, gel,’ said Peg. ‘All done up like a dog’s dinner.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have chosen that colour for a titfer,’ snapped Joan. ‘Looks like you’ve been standing out in the rain.’

  ‘You’ll like it at the bakery,’ said Jimmy quickly trying to cover Joan’s insult. ‘Good luck, gel.’ He gave her a wink as she said goodbye.

  ‘We’ll come out to see you off,’ said Peg, but Eve shook her head.

  ‘I don’t want to keep Charlie waiting.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind a nice crusty loaf if you think about it,’ called Peg after her as she hurried out.

  ‘Or a fruit cake with icing,’ cried Joan. ‘Don’t like it soggy though.’

  Charlie was helping the boys in the back of the van as Eve stood on the pavement praying that Joan and Peg wouldn’t follow. Then from the top of the hill there was a loud whistle. Eve looked up to see four silhouettes all waving: Maude and Eric and two of their sons.

  Charlie returned a salute as he opened the van door. ‘Quite a send-off.’

  ‘I didn’t know they knew,’ said Eve as she glanced back at the house. ‘Peg must have told them.’

  ‘You look very nice, Eve,’ Charlie said as he courteously helped her in. Eve wasn’t sure about the ‘nice’. Charlie was wearing perfectly creased grey flannels, a well-cut navy jacket and plain tie. Painfully remembering what Peg had said about looking like a dog’s dinner, Eve wished she could go back in and put on her green dress as her jacket felt shabby and the hat rather odd. But it was too late now. She pulled back her shoulders and gritted her teeth.

  The boys waved to Peg and Joan from the back window as they drove off. When Charlie turned into Westferry Road, Jimmy pedalled furiously past. He yelled out something and made the boys laugh. When he took the right fork to Poplar, Eve breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want an escort all the way to the bakery.

  It was hard to keep her composure as the boys began to play noisily about in the back.

  ‘Sit still,’ she told them abruptly. ‘Charlie won’t be able to drive if you do that.’

  They burst into laughter once more. Charlie gave her a big smile that reassured and frightened her all at once.

  Charlie was standing with his twin brothers, Joe and George, in the corner of the upstairs front room. His mother always referred to it as the living room, since when they were young, all the living was done in here, the warmest, largest, most comfortable room of the five upper rooms over the shop. He was looking into Joe’s cherubic face, but not listening to a word his brother was saying. He was aware of the women on the other side of the room; his sisters-in-law, fair-haired Pamela and brunette Eileen, who were talking to his mother and Eve. Charlie knew that Eve had been so nervous about meeting his family that she kept her coat on until a few moments ago, when his mother had managed to persuade her out of it. Of the three younger women, Eve was the smallest, but was by far the most attractive. To Charlie, who was finding it difficult to keep his eyes off her, her well-proportioned figure, straight back and full bosom
were the epitome of femininity. His sisters-in-law were large girls, big-boned and strong looking. One or other of them was usually pregnant as Pamela was now. Joe often joked that his wife wasn’t just eating for two but for all of England as well.

  Every now and then, Charlie would drag his attention back to Joe or George and it was now George who was leading the discussion. His twin brothers were thirty-five, eight years older than himself, but like Samuel and Albert, quite different in looks. George had light brown hair and a serious expression and was considerably taller at six foot two than Joe at a modest five ten. Charlie was in the middle, just tipping six foot, but they all shared one thing in common, the piercing blue gaze of their father, Edwin. Their mother’s eyes were a soft grey, a shade lighter than her still abundant grey hair that she kept coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck.

  Charlie was relieved to see that his mother was sitting next to Eve. His sisters-in-law were salt of the earth but wore the trousers in the family. Not that either of his brothers would admit as much, but with ten offspring between them, they had willingly handed over the domestic reins to their wives. Not long ago all his nieces and nephews, four girls and six boys, and Samuel and Albert had been ushered down to the backyard behind the garage to play. Here there was a large net strung up, a boxful of bats and balls and skipping ropes for the benefit of the small visitors, so that when the families visited, the boys and girls had something to occupy them.

  Suddenly Joe tapped his arm. ‘You listening, brov?’

  Charlie stared at his two brothers and father who reclined in the big armchair drinking from a tankard. The two younger men were perched on stools and Charlie was leaning against the mantel. He was positioned perfectly to watch Eve and the women over by the window.

  ‘What’s that?’ Charlie responded, frowning.

  ‘Why, Dixie Dean of course!’ clarified Joe, good humouredly. ‘It was the legend’s sixtieth league goal this year. Surely you read about it?’