A Mother's Wish

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A Mother's Wish Page 10

by Dilly Court

‘I hope so, for both your sakes, but be careful, Effie. Passion is an unruly monster when it’s unleashed.’ With a hearty slap on Effie’s shoulder, Leah strode off to join Zilla who was reclining on a pile of cushions by their camp fire.

  Effie sighed as she saw them embrace and then settle down side by side like an old married couple. A hazy mist hung over the water and darkness was consuming the camp, layer by layer. The babble of voices was gradually fading away as more and more people retired to bed, either in their vans or outside under the stars. A gentle breeze rustled through the reeds and moths fluttered drunkenly in the light of oils lamps hanging from the caravans. Effie wrapped her arms around her thin body and closed her eyes, reliving the tender embrace she had shared with Frank. Old desires which she had thought long dead had been stirred and flooded her with longing for a man’s arms to hold her close. She realised now how much she missed caresses and whispered words of love culminating in the joyous union of two bodies and souls. She had loved Owen with all her heart but she was young and healthy and the thought of living alone for the rest of her life was daunting to say the least.

  She made her way slowly up the steps of her van, determined to put all such thoughts behind her. She had something infinitely more precious than a fleeting dalliance with Frank Tinsley, and she closed the door, shutting out the rest of the world as she prepared to sleep close to her son, Owen’s child, the only person in her life who mattered apart from Tom. She would devote herself to raising Georgie to be a healthy, happy boy and she would find Tom if the search took her to the ends of the earth. They would be together as a family and no one else mattered. She could only hope and pray that they would be reunited soon.

  Each day, Effie looked in vain for Toby amongst the crowds that thronged the fairground. However much effort she put into avoiding Frank it was almost impossible to keep out of his way altogether. If their paths crossed, she would greet him cordially, but when their eyes met she could see that it was just as hard for him as it was for her. They were drawn together as if by some mystical power and she always knew when his eyes were upon her; she could feel him willing her to look his way and she was powerless to resist the compulsion. Even Ethel, who Zilla said was not the sharpest knife in the box, realised that there was something going on between Effie and Frank and she did not hesitate to say so.

  ‘You want to watch him,’ Ethel whispered as she and Effie waited to go into the ring one evening towards the end of their time in Wanstead. ‘He’s spoken for, you know.’

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ Effie said stiffly.

  Ethel tossed her dark curls. ‘No offence meant, I’m sure, but he’s a good-looking cove and I wouldn’t blame you if you was flattered by his attentions. I’m no stranger to having men fall at me feet, so I know how you must feel.’

  Relieved to be able to change the subject, Effie smiled. ‘It must be hard for you, knowing that you must break one man’s heart in order to make another happy.’

  Ethel’s painted lips drooped into a pout. ‘I suppose you mean Arnoldo, the great soft thing.’

  ‘And Jed,’ Effie prompted. ‘I believe that he has his eye on you too.’

  A round of applause signalled the end of Elmo’s act and Brag, seeming to know that it was his turn next, jerked his head back and snorted. Ethel tightened the reins with a practised hand. ‘Stop that, Brag. If you’re a naughty boy you shan’t have your sugar lump treat.’

  ‘Does he really understand what you say?’ Effie asked curiously as Brag stopped prancing and nuzzled Ethel’s small hand.

  ‘Of course he does. Horses are so much more sensible than men,’ Ethel said in a loud voice as Elmo strode past them reeking of raw alcohol and singed hair.

  ‘Get on and do your act,’ he muttered, frowning at his sister. ‘And no larking about afterwards. I want you where I can keep an eye on you – you Jezebel.’

  With a self-conscious giggle, Ethel leapt nimbly onto Brag’s back and urged him into a trot.

  ‘She’s very young, Elmo,’ Effie said gently. ‘And very pretty too; you can’t blame the men for fancying her.’

  ‘I blame her for encouraging them, and you can mind your own business, missy. In my opinion you’re no better than she is.’

  Elmo strode off leaving Effie staring after him. So everyone in the fairground was talking about her and Frank. She had not thought it had gone so far, but in such a small community she had already learned that gossip was the main source of entertainment. She turned her head as she felt someone enter the tent and come to a halt at her side, but it was only Arnoldo and he was not looking at her. His gaze was fixed on Ethel as she rode round the ring with her arms outstretched and a wide smile on her face.

  ‘She’s an angel,’ he breathed. ‘Just look at her, Effie. Have you ever seen her like before?’

  Effie watched Ethel as she knelt on Brag’s wide back revealing frilly drawers and a great deal of bare leg; then, with more determination than grace, she clambered to her feet before sliding to a sitting position with her legs wide apart, which exacted a grunt of sympathy from the audience followed by a standing ovation. Effie had seen it all before and really it was not terribly clever, but it was obviously quite new to the audience and they loved it, calling for more. Ethel did another circuit of the ring, blowing kisses to the men which caused Arnoldo to bristle with indignation.

  ‘Just look at them yokels leering at her,’ he groaned. ‘I’d like to go out there and smack them in the teeth, and for tuppence, by golly, I will.’

  He made as if to carry out his threat, but Effie caught him by the arm. ‘No, Arnoldo. It’s just an act on Ethel’s part and the men don’t mean any harm. They are just showing their appreciation of a lovely and talented girl. You can’t blame them for that.’

  She stared up at Arnoldo but he was so tense that she could see the veins standing out in his neck and forehead. He shook his head, unable to speak, and she could feel the emotions raging inside his bosom. Effie squeezed his hand. ‘Look, she’s coming now and she looks so pleased with herself. Don’t spoil it. Anyway, we’re on now.’ She gave him a gentle push and Arnoldo said nothing as Ethel rode past them giving him the brightest of smiles. He hunched his shoulders and waited for Frank to announce them. Effie followed him into the ring, avoiding Frank’s eyes, which she knew followed her during the act. She hoped that Arnoldo was not too upset to concentrate on catching her after he had tossed her so easily into the air, but he appeared to have his emotions under control as they performed to the crowd.

  Their long hours of practice paid off and the act went smoothly, exhorting gasps of admiration from the audience and cries of ‘Bravo’ when they took their final bow. Effie followed Arnoldo out of the ring trying hard not to look at Frank, but somehow he managed to bar her way just long enough to entreat her to meet him after the show. She shook her head, but he repeated his request, telling her to meet him where the animals were left to graze overnight. ‘It’s urgent, Effie. We’re moving on soon. I must speak to you alone.’

  She looked up and was lost in the depths of eyes that sparkled like vintage sherry wine when he smiled, but were darkened now with emotion. The audience were becoming restive and beginning to demand the next act. Margery the Midget sent them meaningful looks as she waited to go on with her husband, Johann the knife-thrower, who spoke very little English but was pointing one of his stilettos at Frank in a rather menacing manner. ‘Very well, Frank,’ Effie said reluctantly. ‘I’ll be there.’ She hurried out of the tent, leaving Frank to appease Johann and Margery and to announce their act, which was the finale.

  Effie returned to her caravan to reassure herself that Georgie was sleeping soundly. She found Jessie sitting outside on the steps telling a story to her younger brothers, and judging by the looks on the boys’ faces it was not a tale for the highly strung or over-sensitive child. They jumped and almost fell off the steps as Effie came round the corner of the van, but Jessie was unrepentant. ‘They’re a couple of big babies, ain’t they, Ef
fie?’ she said with a throaty chuckle.

  Effie was not so sure, but she managed a smile. ‘I hope they don’t have nightmares.’

  ‘Oh, no. They’re used to my tales, ain’t you, boys?’

  The brothers nodded their heads vigorously. ‘Tell us what happened next, Jess,’ the elder of the two pleaded. ‘We’ll go to bed then and I won’t piss meself like I did the other night.’

  ‘I should hope not, young Mickey,’ Jessie said sternly. ‘I ain’t washing your blankets if you does. Now where was I?’

  Effie peered into the van and saw the outline of Georgie’s head on the pillow. He was sound asleep despite the noise outside. She put her hand in her pocket and took out a penny which she handed to Jessie. ‘Will you stay and keep an eye on Georgie for a little while longer? I’ll give you another halfpenny when I come back.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Jessie said calmly. ‘I ain’t got nothing to do but look after the nippers.’ She cocked her head, staring at Effie like a curious robin. ‘Are you meeting a bloke then?’

  Effie felt the colour rise to her cheeks and was grateful for the gathering dusk to hide her blushes. ‘No, of course not. I just have some business to discuss. I won’t be long.’ She hurried off before Jessie could ask any further leading questions. Threading her way between the caravans, she headed for the patch of scrub where the horses were tethered and Charlie the capybara dozed in a pen made from hurdles. Her heart was thudding against her ribs as she looked for Frank, and when she saw a male figure emerge from between a group of grazing animals she hurried towards him.

  ‘Frank?’

  He stopped, setting down the saddle he carried and pushing his cap to the back of his head. She could not see him clearly but she realised with a start that it was not Frank. She hesitated, poised ready to run. ‘I’m sorry, I made a mistake. I thought you were someone else.’

  For a moment he remained motionless, and although she could not make out his features clearly in the gathering darkness she knew that he was staring at her and she was suddenly afraid. She glanced anxiously over her shoulder hoping to see Frank’s familiar figure striding to her rescue but there was no one in sight. She was alone, with the wide expanse of the flats on two sides, the pond on the other and about a hundred yards or so of open ground to cover before she reached the safety of the encampment. She backed away as the man began to advance slowly towards her.

  ‘Who are you?’ she whispered. ‘What are you doing here? If you’re stealing horses I have only to call out and the men will come running.’

  He quickened his pace and Effie panicked. She started to run but she could hear his footsteps pounding on the dry earth behind her, and she knew she was being outpaced. She did not see the tussock of grass that tripped her up and sent her sprawling headlong on the ground, knocking the breath from her body. She lay there, gasping for breath and unable to move as the man caught up with her and pulled her to her feet.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘EFFIE! I THOUGHT it was you but you’re the last person I expected to run into on Wanstead Flats.’

  ‘Toby.’ Effie uttered his name on a sob but it was from relief that she was crying, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘I’ve been hoping and praying that you would come.’

  ‘What a welcome,’ Toby said, taking her by the shoulders and peering into her face. ‘But what are you doing here? Have you run away to join the fair?’

  She clutched his lapels, pulling his head down so that his face was close to hers. ‘Where is Tom? Please tell me that he found you.’

  ‘Effie, ducks, I haven’t seen young Tom since the last time we met at the Prince of Wales tavern.’ Gently disengaging her fingers, he hooked his arm around her shoulders. ‘You’re shivering, girl. What’s been going on? What brought you to this place?’

  ‘So you don’t know where Tom is then?’

  He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘I think you’d best start at the beginning and tell me everything. I can’t help you unless I know what’s troubling you.’

  She tried to speak but her teeth were chattering uncontrollably and it was not the cool breeze from the marshes that chilled her to the bone. She had placed so much faith in Tom being safe in Toby’s care. The shock of discovering that he knew nothing of her brother’s whereabouts was almost too much to bear.

  ‘Come and sit down,’ Toby said gently. ‘Take it slow and start at the beginning.’

  She opened her mouth to speak but was forestalled by a shout from Frank and the sound of footsteps pounding on the hard-baked ground. She turned her head, and saw him racing towards them.

  ‘Leave her alone.’ He gave Toby a shove that sent him staggering backwards.

  ‘No!’ Effie cried, finding her voice. ‘Stop this, right now.’

  Frank peered anxiously into her face. ‘Are you all right? Did he hurt you?’

  ‘He’s my friend, Frank.’ Effie clutched his arm to prevent him taking another swing at Toby, who had regained his balance and had his hands fisted, preparing to fight back.

  ‘Try that again, mister, and see what you get,’ Toby said, squaring up.

  ‘Tapper!’ Frank almost spat the word, curling his lip. ‘I might have guessed it was you. You never could keep your hands off a pretty woman, especially one who’s spoken for.’

  Effie uttered a squeak of protest. ‘That’s not true, Frank. You shouldn’t say things like that.’

  He cupped her face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes. ‘It could be true, Effie, my sweet. If I can break the wretched pledge that binds me to a woman I barely know and do not love, then I will be free to court you properly, like the lady you are.’

  ‘Sounds like a rum do to me,’ Toby snorted. ‘I dunno what’s been going on here, but I wouldn’t trust a cove who spoke so easily of breaking his promise to someone simply because he’s met a better prospect.’

  Effie turned on him, her pent-up emotions bubbling over like an unwatched pot left to simmer on the fire. ‘This has nothing to do with you, Toby. And you, Frank, you’re going too fast. We hardly know each other.’

  He laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘I thought we came out here to discuss our future, girl. Are you denying your feelings for me?’

  ‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’ Effie cried passionately. ‘I can’t think about us at this moment, Frank. I have to talk to Toby about my brother. I have to find Tom.’

  Frank dropped his arm to his side and his expression was lost in the deepening shadows. ‘It would seem that I was mistaken in you, Effie. I thought you had fallen in love with me as I have with you.’

  ‘Look, cully,’ Toby said pleasantly. ‘Can’t you see you’re upsetting her? This ain’t the time or place for romance, especially when you can see that Effie’s got other things on her mind.’

  She felt Frank’s body tense and she laid her hand on his sleeve. ‘Please, Frank. This is very important to me. I need to speak to Toby. He’s the only person I know who might be able to find Tom.’

  ‘I suppose you’ve decided to join us so that you can get rid of your dodgy old nags. Well I’m not having it, Tapper. We don’t want the police sniffing round looking for stolen animals.’

  ‘I don’t indulge in that trade, mate.’

  Toby spoke in an even tone but Effie knew him well enough to see that he was struggling to keep his temper. She glanced up at Frank. As the clouds parted a shaft of moonlight lit his face, revealing a martial gleam in his eyes.

  ‘Is that so?’ he said with a scornful curl of his lips. ‘Well, I recall a certain stallion with a white blaze blacked out with boot polish. The brute had won quite a few races and had been put out to stud. The owner was pleased to offer a fat reward, and the police were even keener to get their hands on a certain horse trader by the name of Tapper.’

  ‘A misunderstanding,’ Toby said airily. ‘Could have happened to anyone, and it was all sorted out in no time at all. You’re just trying to paint a dark picture of me, Tinsl
ey, but it won’t work with Effie because we know each other too well.’

  Frank took a step towards him but Effie thrust herself between them. ‘Stop it, both of you. You’re behaving like schoolboys.’ She raised her hand to touch Frank’s cheek. ‘There’s no need to worry. Just give me some time to talk to Toby. After all, finding him was the reason for my joining up with the fair.’

  ‘All right,’ Frank said grudgingly. ‘I’ll leave you two to talk, but I’ll be keeping my eye on you, Tapper. If there’s any hint of trouble I’ll turn you over to the johndarms.’ With one last threatening glance in Toby’s direction, he turned on his heel and strode back towards the camp.

  ‘Well,’ Toby said, grinning. ‘Seems you’ve made a conquest there, Effie.’

  ‘And it’s obvious to me that there’s more between you two than trouble with the police,’ Effie said, angling her head. ‘He seems to hate you, Toby.’

  ‘He don’t like being crossed, that’s all. But more important now is for you to tell me what happened to make Tom run away, and why you left the Margaret for this sort of life. It’s not for the likes of you, Effie.’

  She linked her arm with his. ‘Come to my van and we’ll talk over a cup of tea. Young Jessie is looking after Georgie, but I can’t leave her for too long. She’s only a nipper and she must be in need of her bed.’

  Later, sitting inside the caravan with Georgie sleeping soundly, Effie recounted everything that had happened since she parted with Tom on the fateful day when the Salters were hired to crew the Margaret. Toby listened attentively and when she finished speaking he ran his hand through his tumbled mass of dark curly hair. ‘Well, that’s some tale, girl. I’ve been out in the wilds of the Essex countryside doing a bit of dealing at horse fairs, and it’s unlikely that young Tom could have caught up with me since he was on foot. He could be anywhere, and that’s the truth of the matter.’

  Effie’s breath hitched in her throat. ‘He might have been forced back into the workhouse, or he could have starved to death on the highway.’

 

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