by Dilly Court
The small scullery where she worked was behind the main kitchen. It was dark, damp and running with cockroaches, silverfish and ants. Outside in the yard, there was a huge barrel in which she had to deposit the potato peelings, onion skins, the remains of the eels and butchered bones. The whole odorous mess hummed with blowflies and was soon heaving with maggots. Rats lurked behind the barrel, even in daytime, and the stench made Eliza’s stomach churn so that she could not eat, even when it was time for her dinner of bread and jam or dripping.
It was high summer now, a hot and heavy early July when the river was as foul-smelling as the yard behind the pie shop. She ended her shift at nine o’clock in the evening and it was still daylight when Eliza left the humidity and heat of the kitchen. She had just finished the seemingly endless task of washing pots and pans, and she walked out into the equally hot, humid and stinking streets. Her back and legs ached, and the skin on her hands was cracked and raw from being constantly in water, but it was good to get out of that hateful place. Walking down to the quay, she had hoped to get a breath of fresh air, but there was not even the slightest breeze to waft away the fishy smell of the eels and the pungent odour of onions that clung to her hands, hair and clothes. Her stomach rumbled and Eliza realised that she had not eaten since a slice of bread at breakfast.
All around her there was the usual hustle and bustle of the river; a brigantine had docked and was being unloaded of its cargo of timber. She stood watching the men working and she wondered if the ship had come from Australia or New Zealand. If only she were a man, she would sign on as a deck hand and then she could go out to those far-flung countries and find the two men whom she loved with all her heart and soul. Oh, Bart, Eliza thought, fighting back tears, and Freddie. Why did you both have to leave me? But she wasn’t a man, she was a girl, not quite fourteen, penniless and with a doubtful future ahead of her. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, bringing with it just a faint scent of pine from the planked wood piled up on the dockside. It was clean and fresh and the cool wind fanned her hot cheeks. The dying rays of the sun turned the Thames into a river of molten gold, flowing endlessly towards the sea. On this fine evening, its waters looked tranquil and benign. In all its moods the river was part of her life, sometimes the instrument of death and at others the bringer of good fortune. The Thames had carried Bart and Freddie away from her, but it would also bring them home. There was always hope. A renewed spirit of determination entered her soul; Eliza lifted her chin and turned in the direction of home. She would not be beaten down by cruel fate or the unfortunate circumstances of her life. There was something better just around the corner and she would find it, or die in the attempt.
The door to the house in Hemp Yard was wide open and Eliza could hear raised voices even before she had set her foot on the threshold. Ted was standing by the range, his arms folded across his chest, and he was scowling at Uncle Enoch, who, with his black suit and top hat, filled the small room with his malevolent presence.
‘Keep your voice down, Enoch.’ Ted’s voice shook with anger. ‘I won’t have you come here and upset Dolly. You know that she’s a sick woman.’
‘Bah, she uses her ill health as a stick to beat you over the head, you simpleton.’
‘Get out of my house. We’ll talk about this matter like rational men in the chandlery, tomorrow morning.’
‘Dad?’ Eliza paused in the doorway, suddenly frightened. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing for you to worry about, ducks. Your uncle was just leaving.’
‘Not without her,’ Enoch said, turning his fierce gaze on Eliza. ‘This farce has gone on long enough. I’m taking you home with me.’
Backing away from him, Eliza was ready to run. ‘No! No, you can’t do that. I won’t go with you.’
‘It’s all right, Liza.’ Ted held out his hand. ‘Come here, love. Stand by me. This is your home, and I’ll not let him take you from it.’
‘I have the law on my side, Peck. I’m her legal guardian and I want her back. Now that she’s bigger and stronger, I can find plenty of work for her in the shop.’
‘I won’t leave Ted and Dolly,’ Eliza cried, running to Ted and flinging her arms around him. ‘They’re my parents now. Not you.’
A cry from the stairs made them all look round as Millie came hurtling down, jumping the last two steps. ‘You shan’t take Liza away. I won’t let you.’
Enoch raised his arm to strike her, but realising his intention Eliza rushed forward and dragged her out of harm’s way. ‘Don’t you dare touch Millie.’
‘Ted, what’s going on down there?’ Dolly’s wavering voice came from the bedroom above them.
‘Get out of my house this minute, Enoch Bragg.’ Ted made a move towards him, fists clenched as if he meant business.
‘You don’t want me, Uncle,’ Eliza cried, cuddling Millie who had burst into tears. ‘I’m no use to you. You said as much when you threw me out.’
‘I’m a sick man.’ Suddenly, Enoch changed his tone; his neck seemed to shrink into his shoulders like a tortoise retiring into its shell. His eyes shifted furtively from Ted to Eliza. ‘I can’t manage the chandlery on my own. God knows I’m a good Christian and I forgive you for your lapse from virtue, Eliza. I’m prepared to take you back home where you belong.’
‘She belongs here with us,’ Ted roared. ‘You threw her out, you bastard. And then you as good as sold her to Freddie Prince. I know, because I was there to witness the wicked deed. You just want her unpaid labour. You want a slave.’
Enoch clutched his chest. ‘My heart is weak; the doctor said so. I tell you I’m a sick man and I need my family round me.’
‘You’re a liar.’ Standing at the top of the stairs, pale-faced and trembling, Dolly clutched the banister rail for support. ‘You shan’t take my girl from me. I love Eliza. We love Eliza and she’s our child now, along with little Millie.’ Holding out her arms to Eliza and Millie, she collapsed onto the top step and burst into tears.
Millie raced up the stairs to fling her arms around Dolly, but Eliza turned on Enoch in a fury. ‘Look what you’ve done. You’re an evil man and if your heart is sick it’s because it’s been eaten up by meanness and cruelty.’
‘If you don’t go now I’ll throw you out.’ Ted strode to the door and opened it wide. ‘I’m not a violent man, but you’ve tried me too far, Bragg.’
‘And if you don’t give Eliza back to me, I’ll cancel your lease on the sail loft,’ Enoch said, through clenched teeth. ‘And what’s more I’ll keep your tools and your materials in lieu of outstanding rent. I’ll ruin you, Ted Peck. Take your choice.’
‘Get out.’ Ted jerked his head in the direction of the street.
‘I knew you’d act stubborn.’ Enoch produced a roll of parchment from his pocket. ‘I’ve got the necessary legal documents here. They prove that I’m Eliza’s legal guardian. Do you still refuse to let her go?’
Ted stuck out his chin. ‘I do.’
‘Constable. Do your duty.’
A shadow fell across the doorway and a police constable entered the room, truncheon at the ready.
Enoch opened the door to the chandlery and, cuffing Eliza round the ear, he sent her sprawling onto the flagstones. ‘That’s to show you who’s master here, Eliza. I’ll see you in the morning, and I want this place swept and dusted before I arrive. Don’t think you can escape because I’ve locked the back door, the windows are barred, including the skylight up above, and I’m taking the keys with me.’
‘You can’t keep me here against my will.’
‘I can do anything I like, my girl. Until you’re twenty-one and of age, you’ll do as I say.’
Even in the gathering gloom, Eliza could see that he was sneering at her as he slammed the door, shutting out the world and leaving her in darkness. She scrambled to her feet, rubbing her wrist that she had jarred in the fall. The stands of shelves towered above her head, casting sinister shadows; piles of rope coiled on the floor looked like snakes ready to s
trike, and barrels of pitch were lined up like short, fat soldiers on parade. A year ago this would have terrified her but now, she realised, she had grown up enough to put these fancies out of her mind. Inanimate objects could not hurt her; only people could do that. She climbed the ladder to the sail loft where she felt closer to Bart, Ted and Davy, and she set about making a bed from folded canvas. It was not very comfortable but she was exhausted after a long day’s toiling in the pie shop and the emotional upheaval of being wrested from her loving home. Her eyelids were growing heavy and, in spite of her physical discomfort and the ache in her heart, she was drifting slowly towards the sweet haven of sleep. Murmuring a prayer for Bart and for Freddie, Eliza curled up with her cheek resting on her hand, just as she had done since she was a small child.
A shaft of sunlight tickled her nose. Eliza opened her eyes, sat up and stretched her cramped limbs. Oddly enough it did not seem strange to be back in the sail loft. Everything looked, smelled and felt exactly the same and there was comfort in familiarity. Last night she had been determined to disobey Uncle Enoch’s orders to see that the place was clean and tidy before he arrived to open the shop, but with the clock on the wall showing that it was already a quarter to seven, she decided that things would go easier for Ted if she allowed Uncle Enoch to think he had won. She tidied her bedding away and went down into the chandlery. It was not so hard, after all, to do the chores that she had been used to doing since she was a child, and by the time Enoch arrived she had the floor swept and the stock sorted and dusted.
‘Hmmph!’ Enoch growled, looking round as if he wanted to find something to complain about. ‘At least you haven’t forgotten how to do your job. You can clear up the back yard and after that you can polish the brass. Don’t forget our bargain, Eliza. You work for me and Peck keeps his business. Put one foot wrong and he’ll be out on his ear together with all his apprentices. Do you understand me?’
Eliza nodded.
‘Speak out, girl. Do you understand what I’ve just said?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, what?’
Although she knew perfectly well that he wanted her to call him sir, Eliza was not going to give him the satisfaction. With a defiant lift of her chin, she looked him in the eye. ‘Yes, I do.’
The clout around her ear made bells ring in Eliza’s head and she stumbled backwards, falling against a warm body.
‘Crikey, Liza,’ Davy said, setting her back on her feet. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Put her down and get up that ladder, boy.’ Enoch shook his fist at Davy and the other apprentices who had crowded into the chandlery behind him. ‘Get to work, all of you.’
‘You’re a rotten bully,’ Davy cried, hooking his arm around Eliza’s shoulders and glowering at Enoch. ‘Picking on a girl half your size. I don’t see you taking on one of us big fellows.’
Ted had followed them in and he pushed his way past the gaping Tonks brothers and Dippy Dan. ‘What’s up, Davy?’
‘He clipped Eliza round the ear,’ Davy said, his voice shaking with anger. ‘That old goat almost knocked her senseless.’
‘No.’ Eliza pulled free from Davy’s protective arm. ‘It was nothing, Ted.’
‘All right, Davy. I’ll deal with this. You boys get up that ladder and start work.’ Ted waited until the last one had disappeared through the hatch and then he turned on Enoch, white lines of fury etched from his nose to his chin. ‘Now see here, Bragg. You may have got the upper hand at the moment, but I’m warning you, if you lay a finger on Eliza again I won’t answer for the consequences.’
‘You can’t threaten me, mister. You owe me two months’ rent. I’ve half a mind to throw you and your damn sail-making business out anyway.’
‘Please, Dad.’ Eliza stepped in between them. She knew Ted well enough to sense that his temper was close to breaking point. Uncle Enoch was deliberately goading him.
‘You are an evil man, Enoch Bragg,’ Ted hissed through clenched teeth. ‘You’re a sanctimonious hypocrite.’
‘I’ll not stand for that.’ Enoch took a swing at Ted.
Eliza leapt out of the way, just managing to dodge his fist.
‘I’ll kill you, you bastard.’ Ted grabbed Enoch by the throat. ‘You’ve torn my family apart and you’ve broke poor Dolly’s heart. You’ll give us back Eliza or, so help me God, I’ll choke the life out of you.’
Enoch’s eyes bulged from their sockets and his face turned from a deep shade of purple to blue as Ted forced him down on his knees. A cheer rang out from the apprentices who were hanging through the opening to the sail loft, but neither Ted nor Enoch took any notice of them.
‘Stop, stop, you’re killing him,’ cried Eliza, tugging at Ted’s arm. ‘He’s not worth it, Dad. Please leave him be.’
‘You’re right, Eliza.’ With a hefty shove, Ted sent Enoch sprawling onto the ground. ‘I wouldn’t risk the gallows for a scurvy knave like you, Bragg.’
Enoch clutched his throat, rolling his eyes and coughing. ‘You’ll suffer for this, Ted Peck.’
‘I should have finished you off when I had the chance.’ Ted brushed off Eliza’s restraining hand. ‘Go home, Eliza. Go home and look after Dolly. She needs you.’
Above all she wanted to be free, but Eliza hesitated, watching Enoch warily as he got to his feet. He had it in his power to ruin Ted and the expression on his face terrified her. She opened her mouth to try to reason with him, but he pushed her aside.
‘You’re finished, Peck. Get out and take those hooligans with you.’
‘Make me.’
‘Stop it, both of you,’ Eliza cried, grabbing Ted’s sleeve.
He wrenched free from her grasp and took a swing at Enoch, catching him a blow on the jaw.
‘Bastard!’ Enoch’s face paled to an alarming shade of grey and he clutched his chest, doubling up as if in agony and falling to his knees.
‘Uncle!’ Eliza rushed to his side but he fell backwards, writhing and kicking. Then he was still. There was a moment of shocked silence when even the apprentices were quiet. Eliza knelt by his side. Enoch’s eyes were open but staring in a glassy, fish-like fashion that terrified her more than his violent outburst of temper. She looked up at Ted, who was standing transfixed, breathing heavily and staring at the prostrate body. ‘I think he’s dead. We’ve killed him, Dad.’
‘Good riddance, I say,’ Davy shouted from above, followed by a muted cheer from Ginger and Carrots.
‘Hear, hear,’ added Dippy Dan, and was immediately elbowed in the ribs by Carrots.
Ted glanced up, frowning. ‘Get to work, boys. All of you that is except Davy; you’d best go for the doctor.’
Sliding down the ladder, Davy pushed his cap to the back of his head, staring at Enoch. ‘Looks to me like he needs the undertaker, guvner.’
‘Fetch the doctor and the undertaker,’ Ted said wearily. ‘And find a man with a cart so that we can take the body back to his house. We can’t leave him here on the floor.’
Ginger and Carrots were peering through the hatch, their faces alight with curiosity. ‘Is he dead, guv?’
Ted shook his fist at them. ‘I said, get back to work.’ He helped Eliza to her feet. ‘Are you all right, ducks?’
‘He said he had a bad heart and I didn’t believe him. We killed him.’
‘His own badness killed him, love.’ Ted wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug.
The soot-blackened graveyard of St Peter’s in Old Gravel Lane was cheerless even in midsummer. Eliza could hardly believe that there were so many people who claimed to have known Enoch, and who had come to pay their last respects at his funeral. Black-clad mourners, most of them unknown to her, had expressed their sorrow at the passing of a good, Christian man. As she stood between Ted and Davy, Eliza had nodded her head in acknowledgement of their sentiments, but had been unable to share them. She could not imagine what good Uncle Enoch had ever done for any one person, but he had certainly managed to convince these church-going folk that he
was a worthy citizen and a kind benefactor.
The sun was high in the sky, the heat was stifling and many of the tightly corseted women in the congregation appeared to be close to fainting in their black-bombazine mourning clothes; the men in their starched white collars and green-tinged black frock coats were hardly faring better. Holding their top hats respectfully in one hand, many of them surreptitiously took out their handkerchiefs and mopped their brows as sweat trickled down their faces. There was a loud clump of wood on wood as the pall-bearers lowered the coffin into the grave and it came to rest abruptly on the top of another interment, just a few feet beneath the ground. The stench of corrupting flesh was almost unbearable, and the air in the overcrowded graveyard was thick with buzzing flies. Due to lack of space, the departed were piled in graves one on top of the other, and after a particularly heavy rainstorm, newly planted coffins would often pop up like corks from ginger beer bottles and float on the surface.
The vicar gabbled a few words and, covering their noses with their hands, the congregation filed quickly past the grave, tossing handfuls of soil on top of the coffin that was so near the surface as to be level with the ground.
For a moment, Eliza felt that she was going to be sick, but Ted had taken her by the hand.
‘Come along, ducks. We’ve laid the old scoundrel to rest. Let’s go home.’
Even as they moved away, the gravediggers had begun piling earth on top of the coffin and the vicar had disappeared into the relative cool of the church.
‘Buried that close to the surface, I wouldn’t trust the old bugger not to climb out of his coffin and walk home,’ Davy whispered in Eliza’s ear.
