by Betty Annand
“Bloody hell! We have to get you to Missus Tweedhope’s fast.” Toughie declared. Then he took a dirty rag out of his pocket and wrapped it around her hand. “Here, close your fist tight on this until we get there.”
Sally heard the boy calling, “Missus Tweedhope! Missus Tweedhope!” and had the door open, waiting for them when they arrived. After she examined Gladys’s hand to see if there was any glass in the cut, she cleaned it with soap and water before applying a bandage. The cut was rather large, and she would have liked to see it stitched together, but the only doctor in the neighbourhood was a drunken sot who had been a disgrace to his profession and wasn’t allowed to practice anywhere but Old Nichol, where, it was thought, he caused more deaths than he prevented.
“I’m afraid you shall have quite a scar there when that heals, my dear,” she said to Gladys. To her surprise, the girl seemed more pleased than upset. Most of the children Gladys knew boasted about their scars as though they were medals. Now she would have one to boast about too. If she only knew the trouble that scar would bring to her in years to come, she might have felt differently.
Sally was very impressed with both children; Toughie for his astuteness in getting the girl to her so quickly, and the poor little girl for being so brave. It was only when Gladys said her name that Sally realized she was the beautiful little baby she had helped deliver and saved on that rainy night six years earlier. She couldn’t help think that it must be fate that had brought them together again. The fact that the little twin daughter she had lost was also named Gladys made her assumption that much more poignant.
Sally had heard gossip about the Tunners’ alcohol addiction and should have been keeping an eye out for the girl, but didn’t want to interfere, but now she realized that if she didn’t help the girl, no one would. With renewed interest, she looked Gladys over more carefully. Like every other child in the ghetto, she was far too thin, but she wasn’t as filthy as most of the children. Sally recalled Bert’s promise to try to be a good mother and wondered if perhaps the rumours were exaggerated, and the poor woman was trying to keep her word.
The intense way that Mrs Tweedhope was looking at her made Gladys uneasy, but she didn’t offer to leave. Never had she seen such a wonderful room, and she wanted to remember every little detail. Toughie too, seemed impressed. Although the Tweedhope’s only had the one room, it was a large one. The entire floor was scrubbed spotless, and an assortment of well worn, but clean, floral rugs added warmth to the worn wood.
The room’s only window had been cleaned and polished so well that if it wasn’t for a large taped crack, Gladys would have thought it was open. Clean white curtains with appliquéd yellow daisies were pulled back on both sides of the window and tied with a ribbon. A large oval table was covered by a damask table cloth with exotic designs made with threads of gold and red. The holes in the table cloth were so cleverly darned that it was difficult to see them. In the middle of the table was a beautiful cut-glass swan, and it sat in such a position that Gladys didn’t notice one of its wings was missing.
The bed was covered with a clean comforter and looked so inviting that Gladys wanted to crawl under the covers and go to sleep. Even the bricks around the fireplace were scrubbed clean. Never had Gladys been in such a dirt free room, and it smelled nicer than anywhere else in the neighbourhood. She gulped the fresh air in.
Meanwhile, thoughts of how she could help the girl were racing through Sally’s mind. She appeared to be a bright child, but Sally knew that if she didn’t have some guidance soon, Gladys, like all the other unfortunate children in Old Nichol, would lose the desire to learn. She didn’t intend to allow that to happen, and unable to control her emotions, she threw her arms around the child, giving her a squeeze.
Gladys had no idea what was happening. She almost kicked the lady in the shins and bolted for the door. One thing Bert and Tonnie had drilled into her was that she should never allow grownups to touch her, but this lady had been so gentle when she bandaged her hand that she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, so she just stood perfectly still.
Sally sensed her uneasiness and apologized, “Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear. You see, I once had a little girl whose name was Gladys. I loved her very dearly, and you remind me of her.”
“Where’d she go?” Gladys blurted out.
“She became very ill and she died.”
“I’m sorry, missus, but we ’as to go ’ome now,” Gladys answered, but before she and Toughie could make their exit, Sally’s husband, Bob, arrived. He put them at ease with a big smile when Sally introduced them.
Although Sally had hoped to make the boiled meat and potatoes she was cooking last for two nights, she invited the children to stay for dinner. Toughie shook his head in refusal as he looked down at My Dog, who was lying at his feet, but he changed his mind when Sally assured him that she would be able to spare a little gravy and bread for his dog as well.
Not wanting to hurt the boy’s feelings, but noticing how filthy his hands were, Bob smiled and said, “Now, how about if us men nab a little of that hot water Sally has boilin’ fer tea, and take it outside to wash our hands? A man gets his paws pretty dirty after a day’s work, right?” Toughie had never been talked to like a grown up before and was flattered beyond belief. He grinned and nodded his head enthusiastically. When Sally handed Gladys the cutlery and asked her to put it on the table, Gladys didn’t know what to do. “What is the trouble, dear?” Sally asked when she saw the perplexed look on the young girl’s face.
“What about that pretty cloth?”
“Why that is just an old table cloth. Don’t worry, we eat there all the time.”
Gladys was amazed. She had never eaten at a table with a cloth on it before, but the whole idea of eating in a home as fine as this one was beginning to worry her. What if she or Toughie were to spill something? She put the cutlery on the table then announced, “We’d better go, missus. Ma’ll be looking for me.”
“Oh, I think she will understand when you tell her what happened, and after that ordeal you just went through, I think both you and Toughie must be very hungry.”
The delicious aroma coming from the stove was more than Gladys could bear, and for the first time, she rewarded Sally with a smile.
There were only three chairs, but Bob insisted on sitting on a box covered with a heavy wool cloth that was used as a bedside table. Once they were seated, Sally filled each plate with some meat, potatoes, and cabbage that had all been cooked in the same pot. After she took the vegetables and meat out of the pot, she thickened the juice with flour to make gravy, which she put on the table in a gravy boat, so they could help themselves.
Toughie and Gladys watched every move their hosts made so as to mimic them. Toughie hadn’t forgotten how to use a fork, but he had a little difficulty using a fork and knife together and felt very embarrassed when he tried to cut a piece of meat, and it slithered off his plate and onto the floor. Before he could retrieve it, My Dog had gulped it down. Sally and Bob did their best to let on they hadn’t seen what happened, and after a few minutes Sally offered him another piece of meat, but Toughie, afraid he would make the same mistake, refused.
Sally had made enough corn starch pudding for her and Bob, but she managed to divide it up between the four of them. Toughie had never tasted pudding before, and he enjoyed it so much he had his finished before Sally had begun eating hers. “I’m much too full to eat my dessert,” she said. “Would you care for it, Toughie?” This time he didn’t say no.
As soon as they were out of sight of the Tweedhopes, Gladys threw her arms in the air and squealed with delight. “Oh, Toughie, wasn’t that wonderful! I’m so glad I cut my ’and.” Then she danced around him chattering away about all the wonderful things they had seen. She didn’t notice his lack of enthusiasm until he gave her a small push aside, mumbling something about having to get back
to the barn.
Gladys, not understanding what was wrong, ran after him and grabbed hold of his sleeve. “Hi! Wait for me.”
Once more he pushed her aside then snapped, “You had better go home now.”
“Didn’t you like them?”
“No! An’ I shall not be going there again. You can go by yourself!”
Gladys didn’t know what she had done to make Toughie speak to her so crossly, but she thought it must have been something terribly bad, so she hung her head and mumbled an apology.
Toughie’s coldness toward her melted like ice in an oven. “Here now, don’t go pouting, I shall still take you there next week, but I shan’t go in.”
“Why are you mad at me, Toughie? Did I do something bad?”
“I’m not mad at you, Gladdy. It’s just them.”
“What did they do?”
“They think I can’t even eat properly. I know they do. Who needs a knife and fork anyway? I’ve managed just fine with my fingers, and I’ve not starved yet.”
“But she was just being nice, and she gave you ’er pudding. It’s not their fault they aren’t like us. I ’eard Missus Prescott telling Missus Murray that Sally warn’t even born ’ere so ’ow can you blame ’er for being the way she is? And you even talk just like ’er, cause your folks weren’t born ’ere either.”
“Aw, I guess you’re right, and that was the best food I ever ate. But I won’t eat there again until I learn to use a knife like they do.”
“I’ll teach you, Toughie! We got knives at ’ome, and when ma and pa aren’t there, we’ll practice.” Toughie agreed, so the next day they found some stale bread and began lessons.
Chapter Three
A few days after Gladys cut her hand, she awoke in the morning to find her mother standing over her with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “What’s all this, ay? When was you going to tell me about this ’ere?” she snapped as she took hold of Gladys bandaged hand.
“It’s just a cut, Mama. It ’appened two days ago, and Missus Tweedhope bandaged it for me.”
“Why did you go runnin’ to ’er? Ain’t I your ma?”
“You and Pa were away with the cart, so Toughie took me to ’er.”
Bert longed to say something derogatory about Sally, but realizing that it shouldn’t have taken three days to notice the bandage, all she said was, “Well this ’ere don’t look very clean to me. I woulda thought her ladyship woulda put a clean rag on it.” Then, in a softer tone, she added, “Set up to the table, and I’ll put a clean one on.”
Gladys was amazed at how gently her mother wrapped her hand with a fairly clean piece of cloth. It wasn’t as neat a bandage as Sally had done, but she was so pleased that her mother cared enough to do it that she didn’t mind.
Toughie and Gladys had promised to return to Sally’s in a week’s time, so she could apply more salve to Gladys’s injury. Now that Toughie had mastered the proper use of a knife and fork, he was as anxious to visit the Tweedhopes as Gladys.
They arrived just before noon one day and were happy when Sally seemed genuinely pleased to see them. Sally was relieved to see that Gladys’s wound was healing nicely, which was remarkable considering the bandage Bert had applied was so loose it did little to keep out the dirt. She had been right though; the injury would certainly leave an ugly scar.
Although they were delighted to be invited to stay for tea and a sandwich, Toughie would have much rather been invited for a meal in order to show off his new cutlery skills. When they finished their tea, Sally asked them to stay a little longer. Then she opened the floral-carved, wooden trunk that they had both admired on their first visit and took out a big book in a dark blue cover with gold lettering.
“Oh!” Toughie exclaimed. “We had a book just like that. Mother used to read it to me before she . . .”
Sally had a good idea what he was going to say and hoping to spare his feelings, asked, “Was there one story you enjoyed more than the others, Toughie?”
“Well, I really liked them all, but I guess the one with Hansel and Gretel was my favourite.”
“That is one of my favourites, too. Do you know the story, Gladys?”
“No, mum. Was they from ’ere abouts?”
“No, Gladys. You see, Hansel and Gretel are not real. They are make-believe children. Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, two brothers who live in Germany, wrote the story, and it is all about two young people about your ages, their parents, and a wicked, wicked witch who lived deep in the forest.”
“What’s a forest?” Gladys asked.
“Well, do you know what a tree is?”
Gladys nodded her head. “I see them every time I go outside with Da on the cart.”
“Well, a forest is made up of thousands of trees all growing close to each other. Sometimes it can be very dark and scary, but when the sun filters down through the branches and lights up patches of all the pretty mosses, it is like walking on a magical carpet in fairyland. You can just imagine seeing little fairies and wood nymphs running and hiding behind mushrooms or ferns, and you have to be careful not to stand on them.” Gladys wasn’t quite sure if she was imagining the same thing Sally was describing, but it was fun.
“Now, this is the first book the brothers have ever published,” Sally continued, “and there are many more wonderful stories in it. There is one about a girl named Cinderella, and one about a funny little man named Rumpelstiltskin. I know you would especially enjoy the one about a girl named Snow White. Would you like me to read them to you sometime, Gladys?”
“Oh yes, mum, I ain’t never ’ad anything read to me before!”
“Well then, I have an idea. How would it be if you two were to visit me every afternoon, and we shall have story time?” When they both nodded their heads enthusiastically, she added, “I may also be able to teach you how to read it yourself. What do you think about that?”
“I can read already! I know lots of words,” Toughie boasted.
“That is wonderful, Toughie, then you can help me teach Gladys.”
Every morning after she returned from pushing the cart with her father, Gladys would spend the afternoon visiting Sally, but she never told her parents, knowing her mother would forbid it. They were always in such a hurry to get to the pubs that they seldom took the time to wonder where she went.
Before Sally began reading to her, Gladys could only imagine what it would be like to have all the food she could eat and parents sober enough to provide it. Now the wonderful stories Sally read to her filled her head with images of another world—a world of magic and adventure. She and Toughie sometimes argued about what it would be like to live on the “Outside.” She was convinced it would be wonderful, but Toughie, who was a little older and wiser, knew that if you didn’t have a job, life in other parts of London could be almost as bad as it was in Old Nichol. He also realized that there would be no one out there who cared about you, like Mr O, Sally, and Bob. He told Gladys that if she had lived in the “hell” he and his parents lived in, she would be content to stay where she was.
__________
Sally was amazed at how quickly Gladys and Toughie learned to read and write. Toughie wasn’t as keen about spending time indoors as Gladys. He preferred to help Bob out in the junk yard. Sally and Gladys soon became very fond of one another. Sally was the most intelligent person Gladys had ever known, and she never seemed to tire of all the questions Gladys asked her. Sally was amazed at the astuteness of the questions. The girl was particularly curious about life outside Old Nichol and what it was like to go to school. Sally explained that education was one of the most rewarding things a person could have, and that if she had enough money, she would send Gladys to a school just for young ladies. Gladys also wanted to know why Sally only drank water if it was boiled or made into tea.
“I do drink plain rainwater sometimes,” Sally answered, “but
the water we get from the pump smells so terribly foul, it makes me bilious. If I boil it, it has a far less repugnant odour, and if I add a little tea, it tastes even better. I know you won’t understand this, but my father told me that he had read a paper written by a man named Agostino Bassi, a scientist. Mr Bassi had discovered that some common diseases are caused by living organisms, or what you might call bugs. He said that these bugs are so very small no one can see them. You know, I think someday someone is going to discover that there are bugs we can’t see in our water, and that may be why it smells and tastes so terrible.”
A few days later, Gladys told Bert and Tonnie that Sally knew a “scientific” man who said that there are bugs everywhere, and they are so small no one can see them. Bert, standing with her hands on her hips and her chin thrust forward gave a sarcastic laugh, then added, “If ’e can’t see them, ’ow’s ’e know they’s there?” When Gladys had no answer, Bert looked at Tonnie and said, “See, I told you that Sally was crazy in the ’ead, didn’t I?”
Tonnie, on his way out the door, stopped and offered, “Might be they’s that small where ’e lives, Gladdy love, but down ’ere, they’s as big as elephants!”
Gladys and Tonnie broke out laughing. For some reason even she couldn’t explain, Bert took their laughter as a personal affront and tried her best to think of a reply. Failing to come up with one, she vented her frustration with a sharp slap to Gladys’s head.
“I don’t like you spendin’ your time with that lazy cow!” she shouted, “She don’t ever get ’er ’ands dirty, she don’t. And if she thinks she’s better’n your ma and da ’cause she’s educated, she’s balmier than that idiot kid of the O’Brian’s.”
Gladys, unable to control herself, shouted back, “Johnnie O’Brian can’t talk plain cause ’e can’t ’ear, and ’e’s still a lot smarter than you!”
This outburst brought on another blow to Gladys’s head, knocking her to the floor. Bert was just about to add a kick when Tonnie grabbed her, scolding, “’Old on there now. That’s enough.” He helped Gladys to her feet then reached into his pocket and gave her sixpence. “’Ere you goes, Gladdy luv, go fetch yourself a sweet, and take that there jug with you and bring us back some ale while you’re at it.”
