by Dilly Court
Ada hung her head and her mouth drooped at the corners. 'You won't beat me, will you, missis?'
'Lord, what a thing to say. As if I would do such a thing. Meg, take the poor soul outside and help her to wash. And don't smirk, lass. You're just as bad as she is, and you ought to know better.' Gladys flopped down on her chair and refilled her cup with tea from the pot. 'Those two are a right pair when they get together. You'd think they were sisters, the daft things.'
Eloise scooped Beth up in her arms and hugged her. 'Sisters! Ada is old enough to be Meg's mother.' She stopped short, shocked at the thought that had crossed her mind as she met Gladys's startled gaze. 'No, that's impossible. It couldn't be, could it?'
Gladys took a mouthful of tea and swallowed convulsively. 'By heck, you know it's just possible, Ellie. We took Meg from an orphanage close to Bridlington, and they had no knowledge of her parentage. She were just left on the doorstep like a bundle of washing when she were only a few days old. Sadly, it's quite commonplace.'
'And sadly we'll never know for sure,' Eloise said, nuzzling Beth's curly blonde hair. 'Poor Ada, she's had such a hard life. I just hope I can give her a better one.'
A yelp from Joss made Eloise spin round just in time to see the puppy backing away from him and uttering comical little attempts at barking. Joss held out his hand where a small scratch was oozing tiny droplets of crimson blood. 'Bad puppy,' Joss sobbed. 'Bad boy hurt Joss.'
Laughing, Eloise passed Beth to Gladys and she picked Joss up in her arms. 'I think it might have been a bad boy who pulled Puppy's tail.' She wiped the tiny spots of blood away with her finger. Once again she had no pocket handkerchief and she smiled at the thought of what her mother would say. She kissed the injured spot on Joss's hand. 'Kiss it better, Joss. And beware of puppies with needle-sharp teeth and claws in the future.'
'It's a lesson well learnt,' Gladys said, chuckling. 'He'll not make that mistake again.' Her smile faded and she heaved a great sigh. 'Eh, but I shall miss you and the little ones when you go, Ellie. That's God's honest truth. Won't you reconsider, lass? I mean there's plenty of room in this old house now the girls have upped and married. And I know someone who would more than welcome you to stay on. You might even come to like our Reggie if you got to know him better.'
'I do like Reggie,' Eloise said gently. 'I like him very much, but it's less than a year since my husband died, and I doubt if I could ever love a man as I loved Ronnie. We must leave here, Gladys, and perhaps it would be best if it were sooner rather than later.'
'I see that your mind is made up, Ellie. I won't argue with you, lass.'
That night, when Ada and the children were asleep, Eloise took her suitcase and valise from beneath the bed and began packing their things. She awakened early next morning and went to wake Ada, but she would not be roused. It only took a few seconds for Eloise to realise that Ada was extremely unwell, a fact which Dr Robinson confirmed when he visited later that morning. Ada had contracted measles, and there was no question now of them leaving until she was well again. Measles was a much more serious disease in adults, Dr Robinson said with a worried frown, and Ada's constitution was not robust. Eloise, Gladys and Meg took turns in sitting by Ada's bedside in the small back bedroom where Reggie had carried her on the first day of her illness. Eloise read to Ada from her book of fairy tales, and Meg chattered on about seemingly nothing, but the sound of her voice seemed to soothe Ada even at the height of her fever. Gladys made nourishing broths and milk puddings to tempt the invalid's appetite, but all to no avail.
Eloise was beside herself with worry, and when Dr Robinson came out of the sickroom one morning, shaking his head, she challenged him to tell her the truth.
'I'm afraid that Ada has pneumonia. It is one of the complications of measles, especially in adults such as Ada who were not of a very robust constitution in the first place.'
Shocked and barely able to believe what she heard, Eloise clutched his arm. 'She's – she's not going to die, is she, doctor?'
'It's in God's hands now, my dear Mrs Cribb. I've done everything in my power to save her, but we just have to hope and pray.'
'She won't die,' Eloise said, gritting her teeth. 'I won't let her die. She will get better. She will.'
Chapter Seven
Eloise had been up all the previous night, sitting by Ada's bedside, alternately holding her hand and telling her what they would do, where they would go and the sights they would see in London. When she ran out of things to say, she read out loud the stories that she now knew almost by heart, even though she doubted whether Ada could hear her. She had lapsed into a semi-comatose state, her cheeks were deathly pale and her breathing had become shallow. Dr Robinson had warned them that the end was near and Eloise was already grieving for the child woman who had become her dear friend. Although she was most reluctant to leave Ada's bedside, Gladys had insisted on taking over the vigil at dawn, assuring Eloise that Meg would be only too happy to relieve her when she came in from the dairy.
Eloise went to her room intending only to have a brief rest on her bed, but she must have fallen asleep as she was awakened abruptly by the sound of voices outside her bedroom door. She leapt out of bed, still drugged with sleep, but desperate to speak to Dr Robinson, whose deep tones were now so familiar. She opened her door and found him out on the landing talking to Gladys, who was mopping her eyes on her apron.
'She's not . . .' Eloise couldn't say the dreadful word. 'Doctor?'
'We were going to wake you,' Dr Robinson said gravely. 'I'm afraid it won't be long now.'
Gladys clutched Eloise's arm. 'Meg is with her, lass. Our Reggie is keeping an eye on the little ones downstairs. We'd best go in before it's too late.'
Moving like a sleepwalker, Eloise followed Gladys and Dr Robinson into Ada's tiny room where she lay on the bed looking like a wax doll, with her long limbs stiff and still beneath the white counterpane. Meg was leaning over the bed, holding Ada's hand and speaking to her in a soft crooning voice as she begged her to fight for her life. She raised her tearstained face to cast an agonised look at Eloise and Gladys. 'She's slipping away. I can barely hear her breathing.'
'Oh, Ada,' Eloise murmured, her voice hitching on a sob. 'Don't leave us, dear Ada.'
Gladys gave her arm a comforting squeeze. 'She looks so peaceful.'
Ada's almost transparent eyelids fluttered open and her gaze focused on Meg's face. Eloise held her breath as she saw a flicker of recognition in Ada's pale eyes, followed by a ghost of a smile as a long drawn out sigh escaped from her lips. Her eyes closed and she was still.
Meg uttered a cry of anguish and buried her head in her arms as sobs racked her thin body.
Gladys hugged Eloise, holding her tightly. 'At least she'll be able to find the babe she's been searching for in heaven, Ellie.'
'I think she's already found her,' Eloise whispered. 'I think Ada knew it too, at the very last.'
Although Frank had ridden into Driffield to send a telegraph to Cribb's Hall, advising them of Ada's death and the date and time of the funeral, there had been no reply forthcoming and Eloise was the only family member present as Ada's coffin was lowered into her grave. It was a beautiful sunny day and warm for the beginning of May. The clear blue sky was cloudless and the air was filled with birdsong, which almost drowned out the sound of clods of earth raining on the coffin and Meg's heartbroken keening.
Eloise had no tears left to shed now, and she dropped a small posy of violets onto the scattered earth. 'Goodbye, dear Ada,' she whispered softly.
Gladys bent down to lift Meg from her knees. 'Come along, lass. We must get you home.'
Frank put his cloth cap back on his head. His Sunday best suit was a little too tight for him and the buttons barely met over his portly belly. He looked hot and uncomfortable as he ran his finger round the inside of his starched shirt collar. 'Poor lass,' he murmured.
Eloise was not sure whether he meant Meg or Ada, but she nodded her head in agreement. Jacob and his pretty
fiancee, Clara, stood on the far side of the grave with Dr and Mrs Robinson. Apart from Reggie, who was standing close to Eloise, they were the only mourners at the simple service. The vicar murmured a few words of comfort and then walked away with his surplice flapping like the wings of a great white seagull as he returned to the church.
Gladys and Frank led the sobbing Meg down the path to the road where they had left the pony and trap. With his wife on his arm, Dr Robinson came over to speak to Eloise. 'I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs Cribb.'
'I am too,' Hannah said, adding hastily, 'I mean I only met the young woman once, but it's very sad, my dear.'
'Thank you,' Eloise murmured. 'I shall miss Ada very much.'
Dr Robinson nodded his head. 'You will be returning to London now, I suppose?'
'Yes, there's nothing to keep us here any longer. We will be leaving in the morning.'
As the doctor and his wife moved away, followed closely by Jacob and Clara, who were arm in arm and in a world all of their own, Reggie cleared his throat as if to remind Eloise of his presence. 'Must you go so soon, Ellie?'
'I must, I'm afraid. I have a living to earn, Reggie.'
'Come on, lass,' Frank called from the driver's seat of the trap. 'We should be getting back to the farm.'
'I'm coming.' Eloise waved to him and began walking, giving Reggie no alternative but to keep up with her.
'You could stay here,' Reggie said, covering her hand with his as it rested on his arm. 'You don't have to work, Ellie. I would look after you and the young 'uns. If you'd let me.'
'Don't, Reggie. Please . . .'
He drew her clumsily to a halt. 'I must say it, lass. I can't let you go without telling you that I – I love you, Ellie. Marry me, and I swear I'll make you happy.'
'Oh, Reggie!' Eloise raised her hand to stroke his weathered cheek and her eyes brimmed with tears. 'I know you mean it, and you are the most splendid fellow. But there is someone else who is far more deserving of your love than me.'
'I know you're talking about Maud, but that were never an official engagement. She'll understand.'
Eloise shook her head. 'I don't think she will, Reggie.'
'I'm a patient man, Ellie. I know you still love your husband, but he's dead and gone. I'm here and alive and I love you. Won't you stay just a bit longer and give me a chance to prove myself to you?'
'Hurry up, you two,' Frank shouted impatiently. 'Farm won't run itself.'
'And we shouldn't leave old Ma Baker on her own with the babes for too long,' Gladys added. 'She's a bit forgetful at times.'
Eloise drew her hand away. 'I must go. My children – I'm sorry, Reggie. I just can't . . .' She picked up her skirts and ran down the path to climb into the trap. As Frank flicked the reins and encouraged the old horse to plod onwards, Eloise stared straight ahead of her. She could not bear to look back to see the anguish on Reggie's face. He was a good man, and a kind one, but she did not love him and she was desperate now to return to London where she had been happy once, and would be again. Of that she was certain.
As Eloise stepped off the train onto the platform at Euston, she breathed in the fuggy city air with a sigh of relief. Not for her were the rolling wolds of Yorkshire, the biting east winds and the fruity smell of damp earth, or even the mellow countryside of her childhood Dorset. This bustling, dirty place with its polyglot crowds and frenetic pace of living was her home. Despite their uncertain future, she realised suddenly that she only felt truly alive in London. Her heart and mind were here and the ghosts from the past were comforting rather than frightening. She braced her shoulders and gave Joss an encouraging smile as he clung to her, gazing nervously around, wide-eyed and obviously scared by the bustling populace and the earsplitting noise of the great iron monsters letting off steam.
Eloise beckoned to a porter who trundled his trolley over to her and tipped his cap. 'Afternoon, ma'am.'
'My luggage is on the rack,' Eloise said, hoisting Beth over her shoulder and gripping Joss firmly by the hand. 'If you would be so kind as to lift it down?'
'Certainly, ma'am. Is someone meeting you, or would you like me to find you a cab?'
Eloise hesitated. She knew to the last farthing how much she had in her purse, and she had carefully calculated how far it would stretch, but she had forgotten things like tipping a porter and the hire of a cab to take her to Myrtle Street. Nonetheless, it was too far to walk and she certainly could not manage suitcases and two small children and so she nodded, saying with confidence, 'A cab, please.'
As she followed the porter and his trolley along the crowded platform and through the busy main concourse, Eloise felt suddenly daunted and very small and insignificant in the scheme of things. During the past few months she had grown accustomed to the slower pace of life in the countryside, and now she was suddenly nervous. Her plan was to stay with the Higgins family until she had found work. She had had no qualms about arriving unannounced on their doorstep, although now she was actually here, she was not quite so sure of herself. Fanny was her friend and she often took in a lodger or even two to make ends meet. Of course there would be a welcome for them; how could she possibly doubt it?
'There you are, ma'am,' the porter said, having hefted her cases into the cab. He stood there, looking at her expectantly.
Eloise fumbled in her purse and gave him a generous tip. It hurt her to part with the money, but the man probably had a wife and children to support, and his need was as great as her own. He gave her a broken-toothed grin. 'Let me help you, ma'am.' With his hand beneath her elbow, he helped her climb into the cab, and then he tipped his hat again and shambled off pushing his trolley.
'Where to, missis?'
'Myrtle Street, please, cabby. Number fourteen.'
As she settled herself against the leather squabs, Eloise wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale cigar smoke mixed with the familiar odours of the filthy streets. Beth had fallen asleep on her shoulder but Joss was bouncing up and down on the seat. He had slept for most of the journey and was now refreshed and full of life. Any moment he would start asking for food, and Beth would be hungry too when she woke up. Eloise hoped that Fanny would have a pot of soup simmering on the hob. She had eaten nothing since breakfast, and then had only nibbled a piece of toast. Her parting with the Danbys had been tearful on all sides, and she was already missing them more than she would have thought possible. She had left Fanny's address with them and had promised to write as soon as she was settled. Suddenly the enormity of her undertaking crowded in on her and she shivered. Had she made a terrible mistake by returning to London? Eloise tried hard to be positive. At least she would be here when Mama and Papa finally returned from Africa. Tomorrow, when they were settled at Fanny's house, she would go to the Missionary Society's headquarters and give them her address. They might have news of her parents, and she would give them the letters she had written over the past few weeks to forward to the mission in Kenya. She leaned back, closing her eyes. Everything would come right in the end. Janet always said that, and she was invariably right.
'We're here, missis.'
Eloise opened her eyes with a start. Joss had curled up beside her and it seemed that they had both dozed off. He awakened with a start and was attempting to get out of the cab when the cabby jumped down to help them alight. Oh dear, Eloise thought grimly as she climbed down from the cab, another person who wants a tip. She paid their fare and tipped him, though not too generously. She put her purse away and hesitated for a moment, with Beth in her arms and Joss clinging to her skirts as if he was suddenly afraid. She glanced up and down the once familiar street, but to her surprise she felt like a stranger. The house which had been her home for the three short years of her married life looked identical to the other dwellings in this shabby street. There was nothing about its appearance to mark it out as having once been her home. It had seemed like heaven when she first moved in with Ronnie. She had not noticed the peeling paintwork then, or the run down neighbourhood with lines of washing
strung across the street like pennants and the mangy curs fighting over scraps of food, or even the barefoot, lice-ridden children who hung about in doorways. Life had been so exciting in those far off days, and she had looked at everything through the eyes of a young woman very much in love. Now she was viewing things quite differently. She was a woman alone with two tiny children who depended upon her for everything. Once she had had a loving, if unpredictable, husband and her parents had been close at hand. Now she was very much on her own.
'Hungry, Mama,' Joss cried, tugging at her skirts and bringing her abruptly back to the present.
'And you will have something to eat very soon, darling,' Eloise said soothingly. She took a deep breath and knocked on Fanny's door. She listened for the sound of children's voices and the clatter of hobnails on the bare floorboards, but the house was unnaturally silent. She knocked again and this time there was an answering shuffle as someone padded across the floor. The torn and filthy net curtain fluttered and then hung limply. Eloise felt a gnawing fear growling in her belly. Fanny had always kept the house spotlessly clean. She would have died rather than allow her much darned nets to get in that state. The door opened and a complete stranger stood there, glaring at her. 'No hawkers, tinkers or diddicoys wanted.' The woman was about to slam the door in her face, but Eloise was too quick for her and she stuck her booted foot over the doorsill.
'Excuse me, ma'am. But where is Fanny?'
'Fanny who?'
The woman shoved her weight against the door, but Eloise was not going to give in so easily even though the bones in her foot were being painfully crushed. 'Fanny Higgins. This is her house.'
'Not any more it ain't. Get your bleeding foot out of me door or I'll break every bone in it.'
Joss was crying with fright and that had started Beth off as well. Eloise was in too much pain to argue and she withdrew her foot. The door slammed shut. She stared at it in disbelief. How could things have changed in such a short time? When she had left here in January, the Higgins family had had no thought of moving house. Now there was a complete stranger living in their home. Eloise went to the house next door where old Ma Johnson lived with her two strapping sons, who were employed by the Gaslight and Coke Company.
