A Mother's Wish

by Dilly Court

  ‘I am not mad, Mirella. She says I am out of my mind, but she is wrong. They are all trying to get my money and my land. You must help me, my love.’

  Effie edged up the bed until she was in a sitting position. ‘I will help you,’ she said, forcing herself to remain calm. ‘But first you must allow me to get out of bed.’

  ‘I could slip in beside you,’ Mr Westlake said, reaching out to cup her breast with one hand while he tugged at the cord of his robe with the other. ‘We will keep each other warm as we did in the old days, my love.’

  Effie pushed his hand away and she snatched Georgie up in her arms, but her fear for her own safety was forgotten when she realised that her small son was burning up with fever. She called his name but he did not open his eyes. She kicked the bedclothes off with all her strength, sending her would-be seducer tumbling onto the floor. ‘Get off me, you horrible man. Can’t you see that my baby is sick?’ With Georgie in her arms she tried to escape but Mr Westlake caught her by the wrist.

  ‘Run away, would you, lady? This is no time to play games. I’ve fallen for your wiles too often, Mirella.’ He scrambled to his feet, but in doing so he loosened his hold and Effie kicked out at him, catching the side of his head with her bare foot. She ran for the door but he was close on her heels. She was sobbing uncontrollably with Georgie clutched to her breast when the door opened and Nellie Halfpenny erupted into the room, followed by Toby.

  ‘What are you doing here, master?’ Nellie stood, arms akimbo, glaring at her employer who had fallen to his knees, bowing his head and clutching his arms around his body.

  ‘She’s tormenting me again, Nellie. The harlot has returned to tease the life out of me.’

  Toby slipped his arm around Effie’s shoulders. ‘Are you all right? Did he hurt you?’

  She was trembling from head to foot but she managed to shake her head. ‘N-no. I’m fine, but Georgie is ill. He’s burning up with a fever and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.’

  Nellie took off her shawl and wrapped it around her master’s thin shoulders. ‘Look at you, Mr Westlake, wandering about in your nightshirt. What will the young lady think?’

  He shot a sly glance at Effie. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time, would it, my love? Don’t play the innocent, Mirella.’

  ‘Take him to his room, Nellie,’ Toby said angrily. ‘Give him something to calm his nerves.’

  ‘Come with me, Master Seymour.’ Nellie helped him to his feet, speaking in the gentle tone she might have used to a small child. ‘Let me take you to your room and I’ll give you some medicine to make you feel better.’

  ‘Very well,’ Seymour said reluctantly. ‘I am a little tired.’

  ‘And you must rest now.’ Nellie led him towards the door. ‘Don’t worry, ducks,’ she murmured in Effie’s ear. ‘He’s harmless but he gets a bit confused at times. Best keep out of his way.’

  ‘What did you say, Nellie?’ Seymour demanded. ‘Don’t talk about me behind my back.’ He shook off her restraining hand and, holding himself erect, he marched out of the room without a backward glance.

  Toby closed the door. ‘You’d best put the boy back to bed, and I’ll go for the doctor.’

  Georgie had gone limp in her arms and Effie laid him on the pillows. ‘He’s got a rash,’ she said anxiously as she examined his chest. ‘I think it’s measles.’

  ‘That’s all the more reason for me to ride out and fetch a physician.’

  ‘Don’t leave me in this awful place, Toby. Mr Westlake scares me and Mrs Halfpenny made it clear that she doesn’t want us here. Couldn’t we take Georgie back to Bow? I’m sure Ben would take us in for a night or two at least. I could work in the bar to pay for the room and board.’

  Toby shook his head. ‘The journey would only make his condition worse, and Maggie Hawkins wouldn’t allow you anywhere near her children for fear of them catching the disease. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here until Georgie is well again.’

  ‘It killed many young ones in the workhouse,’ Effie whispered. ‘Georgie might die.’

  ‘Not if I have anything to do with it, girl. I’ll be back in no time at all.’

  There was little that Effie could do other than wait for Toby to return with the doctor. She ventured down to the kitchen while Georgie slept, returning quickly with a jug of water and a piece of cloth with which she bathed his head and fevered limbs. He tossed and turned on the pillows and when he opened his eyes briefly he did not seem to recognise her. Effie knelt by the bedside and prayed for his recovery. Death had robbed her of those she loved most in the world, and the dark days spent in the workhouse had left their imprint on her forever. She found it almost impossible to believe in a loving and forgiving god. She had seen very little mercy or genuine charity shown to the poor and needy, but she was willing to promise anything to a higher power that would spare her son. She buried her face in her hands, murmuring the prayers that she had been taught in the workhouse chapel.

  ‘Much good that’ll do you.’

  Effie had not heard the door open and she was startled by the sound of Nellie’s voice and the thud as she set a tray down on the washstand.

  ‘I’ve brought you a cup of tea and a bit of bread and dripping. You got to keep your strength up.’

  This unexpected act of kindness came as a shock after Nellie’s less than enthusiastic reception the previous evening. Effie rose to her feet with a gallant attempt at a smile. ‘Thank you. That was a kind thought and I’m sorry to be so much trouble to you, especially after what happened last night. Is Mr Westlake feeling better today?’

  ‘He’s sleeping off a dose of laudanum. He won’t bother you again.’

  ‘He called me Mirella,’ Effie said, treading delicately in case she upset the fiery little woman who appeared to be devoted to her master. ‘He must have mistaken me for someone he was very fond of. Who was Mirella?’

  ‘She was Toby’s mother, and this was her room.’ Nellie said tersely. ‘And before you go prying into things that don’t concern you, I can tell you that there was talk at the time, but it was idle gossip. The master was devoted to his wife and Marsh House was a different place to what it is today.’

  ‘Mrs Westlake is dead?’

  ‘The poor lady was ill for many years. She suffered from a wasting disease that left her weak and crippled. It must be twenty-five years since she died.’

  A whimper from Georgie momentarily distracted Effie, and she picked him up. He quietened instantly and she rocked him gently in her arms. Nellie was about to leave the room but Effie was still curious. ‘Toby said that his mother worked here as a maid, and yet this was her room. Isn’t it a bit odd?’

  ‘Mirella Tapper descended on us like a wild March wind,’ Nellie said, pursing her lips. ‘She was a gypsy girl who had run away from an arranged marriage, or so she said.’

  ‘And she was beautiful?’

  ‘Oh yes, she had looks and she could charm the birds out of the trees if she put her mind to it. She could sing like a lark and she brought springtime into a winter house. It weren’t surprising that the poor mistress took a fancy to her, and Mirella was the only servant she would tolerate to tend to her personal needs.’

  ‘And Mr Westlake liked her too.’

  Nellie cackled with laughter. ‘That’s one way of putting it. The master was bewitched from the first moment young Mirella danced into our lives. It was like having a creature of the forest captured and tamed after a fashion, but there was always the wild gypsy streak in her that could not be denied.’

  ‘So who was Toby’s father?’ Effie had to ask the question, but she could see from Nellie’s taut expression that she was not going to get a satisfactory answer.

  ‘There’s only one person who knows the answer to that, and she’s been dead these past eighteen years.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why Mr Westlake thought I was Mirella. I don’t think anyone would describe me as a wild gypsy girl.’

  ‘Maybe not, but you’re
pretty in the same way that she was. You look as though a puff of wind would carry you away, and I reckon those big blue eyes of yours have turned a few heads.’

  ‘I was happily married,’ Effie said hastily. ‘I loved my husband and it broke my heart when he died, but at least I have Georgie to remind me of him.’ She laid him back on the bed. ‘The thought of losing him is terrifying. I can’t imagine my life without him.’

  Nellie thrust a cup of tea into her hands. ‘No need to talk like that. He’s a sturdy little fellow and no mistake. Drink this and have a bite to eat, but don’t think I’m going to wait on you hand and foot because I ain’t. I got enough to do keeping me eye on the master without acting like a lady’s maid.’

  Effie took a sip of the hot, sweet tea. ‘Thank you, Mrs Halfpenny.’

  ‘There’s some of her old clothes in that chest of drawers if you need ’em, and I suppose you’d better call me Nellie, seeing as how you’re staying awhile.’

  ‘You’re very kind, Nellie.’

  ‘Well, I am too. I’m me own worst enemy with me big soft heart and kindly nature.’ Nellie marched to the door. ‘And as soon as the young ’un is on the mend, you can repay me by doing a bit of spring cleaning, and there’s a pile of dirty washing to launder.’ She whisked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  Effie drank the tea, but with the memory of the pan of lard dotted with dead flies still fresh in her mind she could not touch the bread and dripping. She spent the rest of the morning tending to her sick child. She held his small hand and stroked his forehead as she sang the lullabies that had sent him happily off to sleep when he was a baby. The sound of her voice seemed to calm him, and when she could sing no more she made up stories about anything that came into her head. There was no clock in the room and the only way she had of telling the time was by the height of the sun in the sky. She judged that it was about noon when Nellie brought her another cup of tea and a plate of bread and butter.

  ‘I was taking food up to the master,’ she said with a twitch of her shoulders, as if daring Effie to accuse her of another kind deed. ‘I don’t want you fainting from lack of nourishment so that I have to look after the nipper. I can’t abide kids, as I’ve told you before.’ She leaned over the bed. ‘Is he any better?’

  ‘He’s no worse, but thank you for asking.’

  Nellie tossed her head. ‘I was just being polite. He’ll soon be up and about and poking his sticky fingers into everything.’ She went to retrieve the breakfast tray. ‘I dunno what’s keeping young Toby and the doctor. It ain’t that far to his house, unless he was called out and Toby had to go searching for him.’ She snatched up the tray and left the room, grumbling beneath her breath.

  Effie was not fooled for a moment. She had begun to realise that Nellie Halfpenny was not nearly as unfeeling as she made herself out to be. Beneath that steely exterior, Effie was beginning to believe that there really was a soft heart. She eyed the food warily and was going to push the plate away when she realised that she was extremely hungry. The aroma of freshly made bread was too tempting to resist, and when she took a tentative bite she found that it tasted as good as it looked and smelt. She ate hungrily, and having drunk the tea she began to feel stronger and more positive. Georgie was still feverish, but at least he seemed to be no worse.

  There was little she could do other than to settle down and wait for Toby to return with the doctor. It was mid-afternoon when he burst into the room and Effie leapt to her feet. ‘Where is the doctor?’ she asked anxiously when she realised that there was no one following him. ‘Is he coming?’

  Toby shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Effie. I’ve spent the day chasing him from one place to another and finally caught up with him at a difficult confinement. He said that there is very little he can do for a case of measles, but he’ll look in when the woman is delivered of her child.’

  Effie sank down on the bed. ‘It could be too late then. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Don’t give up so easily.’ He put his hand in his pocket and took out a small green bottle, which he placed in her hand. ‘I knew that there were gypsies camped on the edge of Epping Forest, and when the doctor wouldn’t come immediately I decided to pay my family a long overdue visit.’

  ‘What is this?’ Effie demanded, holding the bottle up to the light.

  ‘My grandmother is a wise woman. She makes medicines for humans and animals using herbs that she picks in the fields and forests. I’ve seen her pills and potions work miracles.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Effie said, shaking her head. ‘I’m not sure I believe in magic.’

  Toby took the bottle from her and drew the cork. ‘Give the boy a couple of drops at a time mixed with a little water. She said that it would bring the fever down and make him more comfortable. Come on, Effie. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?’

  She sniffed the mixture suspiciously, and she glanced down at her sick child. She had watched Owen breathe his last and she did not intend to see Georgie slip away before his time. ‘Pass me the jug of water and a spoon, please, Toby.’

  He smiled. ‘Wise choice, Effie. We’ll soon have young Georgie up and about again.’

  By evening there was a slight improvement in Georgie’s condition. Effie had not left his bedside other than to go down to the outside privy when she needed to relieve herself. Toby had remained long enough to eat a hasty meal, and leaving his horse to rest, he had saddled the mare that Effie had ridden the day before and set off for Old Ford lock where he intended to ask the lock keeper if the Margaret had passed that way recently.

  Effie waited anxiously for his return, alternately sitting on the bed and watching Georgie or pacing over to the window which overlooked the tangled garden at the front of the house and the road beyond. It was dark by the time Toby returned, and having recognised his firm tread, Effie ran to open the door. She could see lines of fatigue around the corners of his eyes and he was coated in dust from head to foot. He glanced past her at the tiny figure in the bed. ‘Has the doctor been?’

  Effie shook her head. ‘No, but the medicine seems to be working. He’s much quieter than he was this morning and he feels cooler to the touch.’

  ‘That’s good,’ he said tiredly.

  ‘Did you find anything out at the lock?’

  He shook his head. ‘The lock keeper hadn’t seen them for weeks and no sign of Tom either. I’m sorry, Effie.’

  Swallowing the bitter pill of disappointment, she laid her hand on his arm. ‘It’s not your fault, Toby. You did your best and I’m truly grateful.’

  ‘I’ll pay a visit to the tavern in the morning. I’m sure that Ben will have some news for me. I won’t give up until I find him, I promise you that.’

  ‘I just wish that I could come with you.’

  A frown creased Toby’s brow. ‘The old devil hasn’t been bothering you again, has he?’

  ‘No. Nellie saw to that. She’s not a bad old thing when you get to know her. In fact she’s been quite kind and considerate today.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I’ll sleep up here tonight,’ Toby said firmly. ‘I’ll take the floor so there’s no need for you to worry.’

  Effie smiled up at him. ‘I trust you completely, Toby.’

  ‘Damnation. I must be losing my touch.’

  His expression was so comical that it made Effie laugh. ‘You are such a fool.’

  He bent down to brush her cheek with a kiss. ‘Now I am a comic turn. You’ll ruin my reputation as a libertine and seducer of pretty women.’

  She tossed her head. ‘I never believed it anyway. I think that the girls chased after you, and your reputation is quite unjustified.’

  ‘Damn it, Effie. Can’t you leave a fellow with a scrap of vanity?’ He pulled a face as he walked towards the door. ‘I’m going to stick my head under the pump in the stable yard and get rid of some of this Essex dust before it chokes me.’

  Effie smiled to herself as she slipped into bed beside Georgie. In spite of everything, she t
hought how lucky she was to have found a friend like Toby. She could not think of many young men who would behave as valiantly, or with such chivalry, as the man who was labelled a didicoi and a horse thief by those who did not know him well. After a while she heard the soft thud of his stockinged feet as he returned to the room and the rustling of blankets as he made his bed on the floor. She closed her eyes and relaxed, safe in the knowledge that with Toby to protect her she could sleep easily.

  The following day Georgie continued to improve. The doctor came eventually, and after a cursory examination he declared that the patient was over the worst. There had been no need to drag him out into the wilds of Hackney Marshes to see a child who was obviously on the road to recovery, he told them crossly. Having been charged a shilling for the privilege of being scolded for wasting the doctor’s valuable time, Effie had keep a rein on her temper as she saw him out of the house. She longed to tell him that it was the gypsy’s medicine that had cured her son, but she held her tongue. She was well aware that the general population were suspicious of travellers, and that included fairground folk and boat people as well as the Romany. She could tell by his superior attitude that he had taken her at face value, assuming that her gaudy patchwork skirt and low-cut blouse, given to her by Laila, had marked her out as one of them. She supposed that she could hardly blame him as the master of the house had jumped to a similar conclusion. Out of politeness, she held the doctor’s bag for him while he mounted his horse.

  ‘I would advise you to keep the curtains drawn in the boy’s room,’ he said, gruffly. ‘The child should be kept in the dark for at least a week to protect his eyes.’ Taking the bag from her hands he dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and rode off at a steady trot.

  ‘That was a waste of a shilling,’ Effie muttered, addressing his retreating figure. If he had not been in such a hurry to get the examination over and done with, and had paid more attention to the sparse condition of the sick room than to her manner of dress, he might have noticed that there were no curtains at the windows to draw. She took a deep breath of the fresh breeze skimming the farmland east of the marsh. She could smell the honey scent of clover and new-mown hay mingled with the summer perfume of roses and honeysuckle from the overgrown manor garden. Overhead a skylark warbled its melodious song and the drone of bees was like sweet music to her ears. After the stench of the city with its constant din of traffic and the noise and hullabaloo of the fairground, it was a relief to be once again in the quiet of the countryside. Here she had time to think and feel whole again, just as she had in the early days of her marriage. She smiled as she remembered how she had stood at Owen’s side while he steered the Margaret along the waterways leaving the smoke and dust of the East End far behind them. She lifted her face to feel the caress of the sun and she stretched her arms out wide. It was wonderful to be outdoors, but she had left Georgie sleeping and she must be at his side when he awakened.