Cinderella Sister
Page 13
‘Then I’ll just have to use my shawl.’ Nell slipped the shawl off her shoulders. ‘If you could just raise Mr Jones a little, I’ll wrap this round him.’
Ted hoisted Jones none too gently into a sitting position causing the injured man to groan in a way that set Lily’s teeth on edge. Nell worked quickly, tying the soft woollen cloth so that the arm was clamped to Jones’ body. He slumped back onto the pallet with his eyes closed and beads of sweat standing out on his forehead.
‘He must go to hospital straight away,’ Nell said, rising to her feet.
‘Foster,’ Ted shouted to the fireman waiting by the cart. ‘Go and find a cab. Jones has to go to hospital.’
‘He’ll need someone to accompany him,’ Nell said anxiously. ‘He might pass out from the pain.’
‘I can’t spare anyone, miss. We must leave right away and we’re two men down now. Young Connor Reilly has been poorly all day and I let him off early just before we finished our shift. We’re short of a driver now as well as the second fireman, and this is going to be an all-night job.’
‘I can drive the wagon,’ Lily said impulsively.
Ted stared at her as if she had gone mad. ‘Out of the question, miss. We can’t have a novice driving a machine like this, let alone a slip of a girl. It’s against the rules and regulations.’
‘I don’t see why,’ Lily said calmly. ‘I can handle the reins as well as any of my brothers. They taught me to drive a cart when I was knee high to a grasshopper.’
Nell shook her head. ‘Mr Harris is right. It’s much too dangerous. Matt would never let you do such a thing, besides which I want you to help me get Mr Jones to hospital.’
‘There’s a cab waiting, chief,’ Foster called from the entrance to the fire station. ‘There was one passing by and he’s ready to go.’
‘Come here then and help this young lady get Jones into the cab.’ Ted turned his head to give Nell a searching look. ‘Are you sure you can handle this?’
‘Of course.’
‘And I can drive your fire engine,’ Lily said eagerly. ‘You could waive the rules and regulations in an emergency.’
He stared at her for a moment and then he nodded his head. ‘Very well, but you leave the scene as soon as we get there. I can’t allow a civilian’s life to be put at risk.’
‘Lily, no,’ Nell said, catching her by the arm. ‘I forbid this.’
Lily wriggled free. ‘I’ll be all right. Don’t worry about me, Nell. I’ll come straight home, I promise.’
‘There’s no time to waste,’ Ted said urgently. ‘We have to go now.’ He strode off towards the fire engine and Fireman Foster hoisted Jones to his feet, hooking his good arm over his shoulder as he walked him out of the station to the waiting cab.
‘You will be careful, Lily,’ Nell said, giving her a quick hug.
Lily smiled and nodded. This was an experience she had never thought she might share with her brothers. It was going to be a great adventure. She picked up her skirts and ran to the engine. Ted tossed her unceremoniously up onto the driver’s seat.
‘There’s a helmet and a jacket on a hook behind you, miss. Put them on quick and get going.’ He climbed nimbly onto the cart with Foster and another fireman following suit. Shrugging on the jacket, which was several sizes too large, Lily rammed the helmet on her head and with a flick of the whip she encouraged the horse to a brisk trot. The cold night air almost took her breath away as she urged the animal to a canter. The sleety rain had stopped but the roads were still slippery and treacherous with huge puddles that spewed up volumes of spray as the wheels sliced through them. She stood up in the well of the cart, cracking the whip as she handled the reins with supreme confidence. She could smell smoke now, and to the east, in the direction of Limehouse, the sky had turned a dull red. She clanged the bell, shouting at drunken pedestrians weaving across the road seemingly oblivious to the danger of crossing a street in the path of an oncoming fire engine.
The scene that met her eyes above Free Trade Wharf was one that might have depicted the gates of hell. A warehouse fire had spread from one building to the next. Great tongues of flame leapt high into the sky sending showers of sparks cascading down like a mighty firework display. The acrid smell of burning filled the air and noxious plumes of black smoke drifted skywards. Silhouetted against the orange and crimson glow, Lily could see her brothers and their helpers vainly trying to contain the blaze. The men on her engine leapt into action and she found herself suddenly redundant and under strict instructions to go home. She took off the helmet and shook out her hair. She was fascinated to see it gleam in the light of the inferno as if it had absorbed the glow of the flames. She climbed down from the fire engine and was suddenly aware of a group of reporters standing round with notebooks in their hands. A photographer was bent over a camera on a tripod with his head hidden beneath a dark cloth. This very moment would be recorded and reproduced on the front pages of tomorrow’s newspapers. She felt her stomach contract with a buzz of excitement. She was in the midst of a great drama and it was thrilling.
She was about to replace the helmet on the cart when one of the reporters broke away from the group and ran towards her. ‘Excuse me, miss. Did I see you driving that contraption?’
Lily hesitated. She did not want Mr Harris to get into trouble for stretching the rules. ‘Well, I, er …’
‘Put the helmet on again, miss. This calls for a photograph.’
‘Oh, no,’ Lily protested, attempting to take off the telltale jacket. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Please keep it on, miss. What a scoop this will make. I can just see the headlines tomorrow – Young Girl Drives Fire Engine.’ The reporter paused, frowning. ‘No, that’s not right.’ He beckoned frantically to the photographer as he emerged from his cover. ‘Franklin, come here. I want a picture of this girl.’ He turned back to Lily. ‘What’s your name, ducks?’
‘It’s Lily, but I really don’t want my photo taken, sir.’
‘Lily,’ he mused, tapping his teeth with his pencil. ‘Lily Saves the Day. No, that’s dreadful. Lily in the Smoke – nah.’
The photographer came up behind him, setting up his tripod. ‘What are you on about, Christian?’
‘Just thinking of a headline, old boy. This heroine is called Lily. I was trying to think of something that would appeal to the great British public.’
Franklin angled his head, staring at Lily. ‘Look at that hair. It’s the colour of the fire itself. What about – Lily in the Flames?’
Christian slapped him on the back with a loud guffaw. ‘Splendid. What a headline. I should get a raise out of this.’ He hurried to Lily’s side, taking the helmet from her hand and placing it on her head. ‘There you are, ducks. Stand still and smile if you can, but don’t look too happy. Try to look like the heroine you are. Don’t move a muscle, love. You’ll go down in history.’
Next morning when her brothers returned exhausted, filthy and drained of energy from fighting the fire, Lily braced herself to face Matt’s anger.
‘What the hell were you thinking of, Lily?’ He threw the newspaper down on the table with an exclamation of disgust. ‘You’ve made us a laughing stock and brought the Metropolitan Fire Brigade into disrepute. Poor old Harris will get a wigging for allowing a civilian to drive the fire engine, and a girl at that.’
‘Aw, don’t go on at her,’ Mark said, his wide grin exposing a row of white teeth against his soot-blackened face. ‘It’s Christmas Eve and we’re famous, brother. We’ve got our names in the newspapers.’
Luke put an arm around Lily, giving her a cuddle. ‘I think she was very brave, and if you look at it from a practical point of view, Matt, she probably helped save our lives. The fire was getting out of hand and we would have been in a sorry state if Harris and the others hadn’t turned up when they did.’
‘It’s all my fault,’ Nell said, hanging her head. ‘I should have stopped her, but I couldn’t let poor Mr Jones go to hospital on his own.’
Lily sensed that anxiety was behind her brother’s anger and she managed a watery smile. ‘I’m sorry, Matt. I’m really sorry.’
‘Well don’t you ever do a thing like that again,’ he said gruffly.
‘How about a nice cup of tea?’ Aggie suggested, taking the teapot off the trivet in front of the fire. ‘You boys look as though you could do with some breakfast. There’s porridge in the Dutch oven that’s been simmering gently all night.’
‘I could eat a horse,’ Matt said, rolling up his sleeves. ‘A cup of tea and a bowl of porridge would go down a treat.’
‘Not until you’ve washed off some of that soot,’ Nell said with mock severity. ‘You look like a trio of chimney sweeps and you smell terrible.’
‘Aw, Nell, don’t make us go out into the freezing yard,’ Luke pleaded.
Matt took him by the shoulders and propelled him towards the door. ‘Nell’s right. We’re not fit to sit down at the table. I know I stink of soot and worse and so do you. C’mon, Mark, that includes you.’
Aggie and Nell exchanged meaningful glances as the three brothers trooped out of the living room. ‘It’s not right,’ Aggie muttered. ‘They shouldn’t have to wash themselves out there in the bitter cold.’
‘I know,’ Nell said, shaking her head. ‘I’ve been looking for a house to rent ever since we moved in here, but the ones I’ve seen are either too small or too expensive.’
‘I could go out and look for work,’ Lily suggested tentatively. ‘I mean, there’s no need for me to stay at home now. Perhaps Molly could find me something at her place.’
‘She was in a filthy mood this morning because I’ve got the day off and she hasn’t. Let’s hope she cheers up before tomorrow.’ Nell regarded Lily with a thoughtful frown. ‘But what would you do, Lily? More to the point, what could you do? You’d end up working in a factory or washing dishes in a chophouse.’
‘Yes,’ Aggie said, nodding her head sagely. ‘And you can’t expect me to heave water up and down those steep stairs, or bring coal up from the yard. I’m not as young as I used to be.’
Lily knew she was beaten. The sort of work she might expect to get would pay poorly and would make little difference to the family fortunes.
‘Don’t look so glum, ducks,’ Aggie said, handing her a cup of tea. ‘Drink this, and have a bowl of porridge before those greedy gannets eat the lot.’
‘Thanks, Aggie, but I’m not very hungry.’ Lily sipped the tea and went to sit by the window, leaving Nell and Aggie to discuss the preparations for Christmas Day. Sounds of movement were coming from the room next door which meant that Grandpa had awakened and would soon be demanding his breakfast. The events of last night were beginning to fade like the memory of a half-forgotten dream. Had she really driven the fire engine through the frosty streets, ringing the bell and shouting like a madwoman at anyone who got in her way? Had she really witnessed flames shooting almost as high as the stars? Had the sky been tinged crimson, vermilion and rose madder with streaks of orange and cadmium yellow? Her fingers itched to put the scene on paper and she wished, not for the first time, that she had the opportunity to use oil paints in order to get the depth and strength of colour she needed to recreate the dramatic scene.
‘Where’s me breakfast?’ Grandpa Larkin burst into the room still wearing his nightcap and nightshirt. ‘I’m faint from lack of nourishment. What’s the use of keeping a pack of women if they won’t look after a fellow?’
Nell leapt to her feet. ‘Aggie will give you a cup of tea, Grandpa. But don’t you think you should get dressed before breakfast? It’s very cold and we don’t want you catching a chill.’
‘Bah! Nonsense. I’m as strong as an ox and I want me breakfast.’ Grandpa eyed the Dutch oven with a malevolent sneer. ‘And I don’t want that pap. I want bread and cheese or a nice tasty bit of bacon, and a pint of porter would go down well.’
‘You’ll get what you’re given, old man,’ Aggie said, bristling. ‘All hell’s been let loose here since last night, and you’ve slept through the lot. No one has had the time to go to the bakery for bread, and a nice hot cup of tea will do you far more good than the devil’s brew.’
‘The devil’s brew?’ Grandpa cackled. ‘There’s nothing in the Good Book that says a man can’t have a drink when he wants one.’ He raised his hand as Aggie opened her mouth to argue. ‘Didn’t Jesus turn water into wine? He wouldn’t have had any truck with those mealy-mouthed temperance folk.’
‘Never mind that, Grandpa,’ Nell said hastily. ‘Lily will go to the baker’s and there’s a heel of cheese left from supper last night, but you’ll have to make do with tea this morning.’
‘But I can smell good ale,’ Grandpa muttered. ‘It comes out of the walls and up through the floorboards, even though the beer shop closed years ago.’
Lily jumped to her feet and as she did so she noticed that a small crowd had gathered in the street below. She craned her neck to get a better look and realised with a sinking heart that some of the men held notebooks in their hands, and at least three of them were setting up cameras on tripods aimed at the fire station. One of them looked up and caught sight of her. He raised his hand and pointed. She could see his lips working although she could not hear his words, but the upturned faces of the onlookers confirmed that she had been recognised. She backed away from the window, knocking a chair over in her haste.
‘For Gawd’s sake, what’s wrong with the girl?’ Grandpa demanded, wiping spilt tea from the front of his nightshirt. ‘Look what you made me do, you silly thing.’
‘What is it, Lily?’ Nell moved towards the window but withdrew quickly. ‘Oh, my goodness.’
‘What’s up?’ Aggie demanded.
‘It’s the press,’ Nell whispered. ‘They’re practically mobbing the place. We must keep out of sight and perhaps they’ll go away.’
The words had hardly left her lips when a loud rapping on the outer door made them all jump.
‘Open up. We know you’re there, Miss Lily Larkin. You was seen at the window. We just want a few words from you. Open up.’
Chapter Nine
Someone in the passageway was hammering on the door so loudly that the whole building seemed to shake. There was a breathless hush in the room as they stared helplessly at each other. Grandpa Larkin was the first to speak and he put down his teacup with a thud. ‘I’ll go and sort the buggers out. I ain’t having my breakfast spoiled by the likes of those rowdies.’ His bare feet made soft padding noises as he strode across the room with his nightcap askew. Nell just managed to catch him before he reached the landing.
‘You can’t go downstairs like that, Grandpa. What will they think?’
‘It doesn’t matter what they think. I won’t have this sort of behaviour.’
Lily hurried to Nell’s aid. ‘But Grandpa, supposing they take a photograph of you in your nightshirt, what would Bill and the others say if you were on the front page of the evening papers?’
He seemed to shrink inside his voluminous nightshirt like a candle flame extinguished under a snuffer. ‘They wouldn’t dare. I was a man of consequence.’
‘They’ve no consciences,’ Aggie said darkly. ‘They just want blood.’
‘Leave them to Matt.’ Nell slipped her arm around her grandfather’s skinny shoulders. ‘He’ll soon put a stop to their little game.’ She nudged him gently out onto the landing. ‘Go and get dressed, Grandpa, and as soon as the newspaper men go away Lily will go to the shop and get fresh bread for your breakfast.’
He shot her a sideways glance. ‘And a jug of porter?’
Nell nodded her head. ‘All right. Just this once – after all, it is Christmas Eve.’ She helped him into the back bedroom.
Left alone on the landing, Lily stood at the top of the stairs listening to the din in the passage, but a new sound added to
the reporters’ clamour: the clatter of booted feet and shouts from her brothers. There seemed to be a brief scuffle, with loud protests from the newsmen and a great deal of swearing on both sides, but the argument lasted less than a couple of minutes and appeared to end in retreat as the outer door opened and Matt strode in followed by Mark and Luke. They took the stairs two at a time and their faces were wreathed in triumphant grins.
‘Don’t go down there on any account, Lily,’ Matt said sternly. ‘They’ve left the alley but no doubt they’ll hang about in the street for a while yet.’
Mark yawned and rubbed his eyes. ‘I’m turning in as soon as I’ve had my breakfast and I guarantee I’ll be asleep before my head hits the pillow.’
‘It will soon be forgotten, ducks,’ Luke said, giving Lily an affectionate hug. ‘You’re not to worry.’
After what seemed like an eternity to Lily, who had been watching anxiously from the window, the crowd on the pavement below began to disperse as the reporters, having apparently decided that their blockade was not working, gave up and slouched off. Having given Lily strict instructions not to venture outside on any account, Nell and Aggie took the opportunity to slip out of the building unnoticed and Lily was left to do the housework while they went to market. Matt, Mark and Luke had retired to bed, and, to Lily’s relief, Grandpa had eventually ceased complaining about his meagre breakfast and was snoozing in the chair by the window. She busied herself with the chores, but she had of necessity to go out into the back yard to empty the night soil from the chamber pots and to fetch water and coal. This entailed several trips and on the last, when she was hefting a heavy coal scuttle across the yard, she was accosted by Christian and Franklin, the reporter and photographer who had put her on the front page of the national newspapers.
‘Good morning, Miss Lily,’ Christian said, doffing his cap. ‘How does it feel to be famous?’
They had placed themselves strategically so that she could not get into the building, leaving her no alternative but to stop and talk to them. She put the heavy coal scuttle down, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘It will be forgotten by tomorrow, I’ve no doubt.’