by Dilly Court
His booted feet crunched stones on the path behind her. ‘I’m here, girl. Best get this bloke inside as quick as you like.’
She put her shoulder to the door and almost fell into the hallway.
‘Who’s that?’ a querulous voice demanded, and the flickering glow of a single candle sent shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling. Grandpa Larkin emerged from the small parlour that had in past times been his late wife’s sewing room. It was his domain now, with a single iron bedstead tucked away in the corner of the room and a wingback chair by the fire, which was kept going night and day, summer or winter. He peered myopically at Bill. ‘Is that you, Bill Hawkins?’
‘It is I, Mr Larkin, sir. Miss Lily found this poor fellow on the foreshore with a busted ankle and burns.’
Grandpa Larkin nodded and his eyes glittered with excitement. ‘I saw the ship on fire through my spyglass. Looked to me like a schooner, heavily laden. Went aground in the fog, did she?’
Lily laid her hand on his shoulder. ‘Go and sit down, Grandpa. Let Bill take the poor man upstairs and then he can come and tell you all about it.’
He drew away from her, scowling. ‘I ain’t a baby. You don’t have to treat me like I was made of spun glass and going to break any minute.’
Bill gave a polite cough. ‘Begging your pardon, guvner, but this fellow is no light weight. May I be so bold as to suggest that I follow Miss Lily up the stairs and make him comfortable?’
‘You’re a good fellow, Bill. I trained you and I’m proud of you.’ Grandpa shot a resentful look at Lily. ‘And he treats me like a man with all his faculties. I’m not ready for my wooden box just yet.’
‘Of course not, Grandpa.’ Lily knew better than to take offence at his caustic comments. She flashed him a smile and hurried over to a table at the foot of the stairs where the night candles were kept in readiness to light the family to bed.
Grandpa wagged his finger at her. ‘Just remember that we can’t afford to pay the doctor. You’ll have to get Agnes to fix him up, that is if the old besom can manage the stairs at her time of life.’ He retreated into the parlour, slamming the door. The draught it caused almost extinguished the lucifer that Lily had struck on a piece of exposed brickwork where the plaster had crumbled away to leave a jagged crater. She lit the candle, and shielding the flame with her cupped hand she led the way up the wide staircase to the first floor landing, and then up again to the attics beneath the mansard roof. It was here they had had their nursery when they were children, but now the rooms were unused, it being too costly to light fires to heat them. Tiles had been blown off in winter gales and the roof leaked, causing damp patches to spread across the ceiling making patterns that Lily had always likened to illustrations of continents in the school atlas. She opened the door to the smallest of the three rooms and wrinkled her nose at the pervasive smell of damp and dry rot. ‘Lie him down on the bed, Bill. I’ll go and fetch sheets and blankets.’
Bill crossed the bare boards in two strides and gently set his burden down on the bare mattress. ‘You do that, Miss Lily. I’ll take his boots off while he’s out cold, but he’s going to need a doctor and that’s a fact.’
Lily screwed up her face as Bill started to ease the boot off the afflicted limb. ‘You’d best get his wet clothes off too. I’ll see if I can find him a clean nightshirt.’
‘This fellow ain’t no ordinary seaman. These boots cost more than I could earn in a six-month. He’s a gentleman unless I’m very much mistaken and a foreigner too. He must have come off that French schooner that’s causing all the trouble.’
‘Feel in his pockets. Maybe he’s got enough money to pay for the doctor.’
Bill raised the man just enough to take off his singed jacket. He went through the pockets and produced a handful of coins. ‘That’s all he’s got, and it’s foreign money, but I reckon it might pay for a visit from the sawbones.’
Lily frowned; one problem at a time was quite enough. ‘I’ll see to his bedding.’
She hurried downstairs to the linen cupboard on the ground floor, where she sorted out cotton sheets that had been turned top to bottom many times before being cut and sewn together again, sides to middle. She and her sisters had spent many evenings on such homely tasks, sewing long seams in the flickering light of a work candle until their eyes were red-rimmed and their fingers pricked and bleeding. She found an old pillow with the feathers seeping from a tear that was yet to be mended, but there were no spare blankets. The poor man would freeze to death in the attic room, but then she remembered the monks’ seat in the entrance hall where out of sentiment they had stored the horse blanket that used to keep old Trotter warm on bitter winter nights. He had been more than a faithful old horse who pulled the dog cart that took Ma and the girls to church on Sundays. He had been a much-loved family pet and they had all cried when he had passed away at the magnificent age of thirty. At least, the girls had cried, and although her brothers had shrugged their shoulders and walked away, Lily had seen them blink away a tear or two. She sniffed and swallowed hard at the memory. She went to fetch the woollen blanket that was now lacy with moth holes, but it would have to suffice. Holding the coarse material to her cheek the lingering smell of horseflesh, leather and hay brought back memories of childhood days when life had seemed so safe and secure.
An agonised cry from the top floor brought her abruptly back to the present and she negotiated the stairs as fast as she could beneath the burden of sheets, the horse blanket and an old nightshirt that had once belonged to Luke but had been outgrown. She hesitated outside the attic room, bracing herself for what she would find when she entered. She was particularly squeamish when it came to blood and burns. ‘Don’t be a coward, Lily,’ she whispered. ‘Stop being a baby and go inside. The poor fellow needs you.’
Bill rose to his feet as she entered the room. ‘I’ll see to him, Miss Lily. It ain’t the sort of thing you ought to rest your young eyes on, but you should send for the doctor to take a look at the poor bloke. He’s suffered some burns to his hands and shoulders and his ankle is definitely busted.’ He held his hands out to take the bedding.
She tried not to look but her eyes were drawn to the inert figure with nothing to cover him other than his torn and singed shirt. Lily had seen her brothers’ bare flesh on bath nights when they were much younger, but the only adult male bodies she had seen were the carved statues in museums and their manhood was always delicately concealed by fig leaves or artistic swathes of cloth. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she looked away quickly. ‘I’ll go at once, if you’ll just stay with him until I return.’
Bill nodded and grinned, exposing his one good tooth. ‘You get along. I’ll keep an eye on the poor bugger until you get back.’ It was his turn to flush brick red now and he shuffled his feet. ‘Begging your pardon, Miss Lily.’
Lily hurried from the room, but once outside the dingy attic her feeling of relief was tinged with guilt for being such a ninny. Her brothers would tease her mercilessly if they found out that she had run away from the sight of blood and burnt flesh, an occupational hazard for a fireman. When she reached the hall she stopped to put on her shawl, and was wrapping it around her shoulders when the front door rattled and burst open to admit Nell. Drops of moisture glistened on the rim of her bonnet, sparkling like diamonds on the dark hair that had escaped from the confines of a snood and now curled around her forehead like the springs from a watch. She untied the ribbons of her bonnet, eyeing Lily curiously.
‘What a sight you look. Your hair is a mass of tangles and you’re covered in smuts. Don’t tell me you went out in this pea-souper.’
‘I can’t stop,’ Lily said breathlessly. ‘It’s a long story, but I’ve got to fetch the doctor.’ She made for the door, but Nell was too quick for her and she moved swiftly to bar her way.
‘Who needs the doctor?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Is it Grandpa?’
Lily shook her head. ‘No, it’s a man who was hurt when the ship caught fire. Bill’s
with him now. I’ve got to go.’
Nell caught her by the wrist. ‘Stop there, young lady. Who said we could afford the doctor for a complete stranger, and why is Bill here? It’s not Friday.’
Lily could see by the determined set of her sister’s jaw that an explanation was imperative if she was to be allowed out to fetch the doctor. She launched into a vivid description of the scene on the foreshore, illustrating the story with dramatic gestures. ‘So you see I must fetch Dr Macpherson or the poor man will die.’
Nell made a show of hanging up her bonnet and shawl, moving with the controlled grace that Lily admired so much. Nell was never in a dither; she was always so calm and sensible. Lily wished very much that she could be like her eldest sister.
‘I will go and see this person,’ Nell said firmly. ‘I’ll decide whether or not we need to incur the expense of a visit from the doctor. I’m certain he charges by the minute, if not the second, and we just can’t afford it, Lily.’
Lily hung her head. ‘I know that, but the poor chap had a little money on him.’
‘Don’t tell me that you went through his pockets.’
‘Bill did, not me. He said the man is a gentleman. He could tell by his boots. I didn’t think …’
‘No, Lily, you didn’t think. You never do. Just leave everything to me. I’m used to dealing with cuts and bruises and wiping bloody noses at the Ragged School, and that includes dealing with children who wet their drawers and worse.’ Nell picked up her skirts and was about to mount the stairs when she paused, looking over her shoulder. ‘Where is he? I hope you didn’t put him in any of our rooms. He might be running with fleas and lice or have some terrible disease. You are very thoughtless at times, Lily.’
‘He’s in the smallest attic room. I couldn’t find any blankets so I took the one that belonged to old Trotter.’
‘Heavens above, what were you thinking of? If he didn’t have fleas when he arrived, he most likely will now.’ With a toss of her head, Nell continued on her way upstairs.
Lily hesitated, unsure whether or not to follow her, but whichever course she chose was almost certain to be the wrong one. She loved and admired her eldest sister, but Nell was inclined to bring the discipline of the schoolroom home with her. Matt was the only one who could stand up to her when she was being bossy, but he wasn’t here. Lily stood in the middle of the hallway, undecided until she heard the sound of shuffling footsteps approaching from the back of the house.
‘Lily Larkin, I wants a word with you.’ Aggie’s voice rolled round the hall like thunder.
It was only then that Lily remembered the basket of damp washing that she had abandoned in the scullery, and the wet clothes waiting to be put through the mangle she had left in the stone sink. ‘Oh, bother!’ she murmured. ‘Now I’m for it.’
Preceded by a wavering beam of candlelight, Agnes bore down on her, moving faster than Lily would have thought possible for a woman who complained so bitterly about her rheumatics.
‘What do you mean by leaving the scullery swimming in water and piles of wet clothes clogging my sink?’ Agnes came to a halt in front of Lily, standing arms akimbo. ‘And what’s been going on upstairs? I was having a lovely nap when I was woken by the sound of someone screeching like they was being done in.’
Lily could see that Agnes was genuinely upset. ‘I’m so sorry, Aggie. I’ll come and clear it up right away. But it wasn’t my fault, you see the fog came down and then I smelt smoke and I heard the fire engine go past the house.’
‘I heard it but I thought I was dreaming. I still get nightmares about the fire that took your poor father’s life.’ Agnes peered at Lily, frowning. ‘I hope you didn’t do anything silly.’
‘I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I wanted to see the fire.’
‘How many times have you been told to stay away from fires?’
‘I don’t know why I did it, but I just had to go and see it for myself, and I came across an injured man. I couldn’t just leave him like that. And then Bill Hawkins came along and he brought him home.’
Agnes glanced upwards into the dark shadows on the staircase. ‘So where is this person now?’
‘He’s in one of the attic rooms and Nell is looking after him.’
‘I suppose it’s all right then, if Nell says so, but don’t expect me to go fetching and carrying for a complete stranger.’
‘Of course not, Aggie,’ Lily said, giving her an affectionate hug. ‘We’ll look after him and you won’t know he’s here.’
‘Get on with you, you bad girl. I can see your mother in you sometimes, Lily. She could always wrap people round her little finger if she chose.’ The top of Aggie’s head only came up to Lily’s shoulder, and she was almost as broad as she was tall. Her prune-wrinkled face dissolved into a smile and she gave Lily a gentle shove towards the kitchen. ‘Go and finish your chores, and then you can scrub the potatoes for supper to make up for me losing my beauty sleep.’ She gave a deep chuckle that made her whole frame shake and Lily knew she had been forgiven.
She was in the middle of mopping the kitchen floor where the water had seeped in from the overflowing sink in the scullery when Nell burst into the room looking unusually flustered. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a sparkle in her eyes that made Lily stare at her in surprise.
‘That man is not English,’ Nell said breathlessly. ‘He is burbling away and I couldn’t understand a word he said. Bill said he thinks he came from the French schooner, so that would explain how the poor man came to be in such a state. Anyway, I’ve sent Bill to fetch Dr Macpherson. I’ve done all I can for him but you were right for once, Lily; his injuries are quite severe.’
‘And how are we going to pay the medical bills?’ Agnes demanded. ‘We can’t even afford meat to put in the stew. The boys won’t be happy when all they get is a mouthful of vegetables and a soggy dumpling for their supper.’
‘We have meat once a week,’ Nell said sternly. ‘That’s more than most people round here can afford. I have children in my class who have to survive on bread and scrape, and sometimes not even that. They are so thin that their little limbs look like sticks and their faces are pinched and wizened so that they look like little old men and women. If anyone complains about their food just let them come to George Street with me and see how poverty-stricken people live.’ She ended with a muffled sob, turning away to wipe her eyes.
Lily dropped the mop and ran to Nell, wrapping her arms around her. ‘There, there, dear Nell. Don’t be upset. She didn’t mean to criticise, did you, Aggie?’
Agnes shrugged her shoulders. ‘No need to get in a twitter. I was just stating a fact.’
Nell sniffed and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. ‘I’m sorry, Aggie. I’m just tired, I suppose.’
‘And you gave your dinner to the poorest children,’ Lily said, angling her head. ‘I know you did, so don’t deny it, Nell.’
‘That’s by the bye. We have more than enough of everything, just not as much as we were used to.’ Nell smiled with her lips, although Lily was quick to note that it didn’t quite reach her limpid blue eyes.
‘You tell that to young Molly when she complains,’ Aggie muttered. ‘That girl has ideas above her station if you ask me, just like her mother.’
Lily could see by the expression on Nell’s face that this remark, although true, had hit a tender spot. Ma’s name was rarely mentioned, and Nell in particular seemed to have suffered most when their mother took flight.
‘I think I heard the doorbell,’ Lily said by way of a diversion, and almost immediately, as if by some miraculous intervention from above, one of the bells on the board above the kitchen door began to jingle on its spring. ‘It must be Bill returning with the doctor,’ she added hopefully. ‘Shall I go, Nell?’
‘No, it’s all right, Lily. Since I’ll be the one in charge of the sickroom, I’d best take the doctor upstairs.’ Nell’s hand flew to her head and she patted her hair in place as she left the room.
; ‘Well, I’m blowed,’ Agnes said with a meaningful grin. ‘She’s changed her tune. If I was a betting woman I’d lay odds on the bloke upstairs being young and good-looking, even if he is a Frog.’
Lily stifled a giggle. ‘Don’t let Nell hear you call him that.’
‘I can say what I like in my own kitchen,’ Aggie said, rising to her feet and carrying the pan of peeled vegetables over to the range. She reached up to pluck herbs from bunches hung to dry on a beam in the chimney breast, and she sprinkled them into the stew, adding a generous dash of salt. ‘He’ll cause trouble, mark my words, young Lily.’
‘Who? Who will cause trouble?’
Lily turned with a start to see Molly standing in the doorway. The sulphurous stench of the fog clung to her outdoor clothes as if reluctant to release her from its suffocating clutches. She took off her bonnet and tossed it onto the nearest chair followed by her shawl. Her cheeks were flushed with the cold and her green eyes sparkled with curiosity. ‘What’s going on? I saw Dr Macpherson pulling up in his trap just as Nell let me in, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. She just pushed past me and hurried out to meet him. What have I missed?’
‘There’s a Frog in the attic room,’ Agnes said, slamming a lid on the saucepan. ‘And he’s going to bring strife to this family, I can feel it in me water.’
Chapter Two
‘A frog? How did a frog get into the house? A frog couldn’t climb all those stairs.’ Molly stared at Lily with her eyebrows raised in astonishment. ‘Could it?’
Lily dissolved into a fit of giggles. She felt the tension leach out of her as she saw the funny side of the situation. ‘N-not a real frog, silly. Aggie means there’s a Frenchman in bed upstairs.’
‘A Frenchman?’ Molly snatched up a carrot that Agnes had missed and bit off the end, crunching it with relish. ‘Damn it, I would have been home earlier if I hadn’t stopped to chat to Sukey Hollands. What have I missed?’
