A Mother's Wish

by Dilly Court

‘You’ve got a mighty lot to say for yourself all of a sudden.’

  ‘I kept silent too long, and you’ve been taken in by bad people who mean to steal the Margaret from you. They’ll stop at nothing to get what they want.’

  Jacob’s hands shook so violently that he slopped most of his tea on the floor. He slammed the mug down on the table and held his head in his hands. ‘Stop tormenting me. Leave me alone. I can’t think straight when you go on at me like that and the pain in my head is driving me mad.’

  Taking pity on him, Effie added a few drops of laudanum to what was left of his tea. She held the mug to his lips. ‘Drink this. It will make the pain go away.’

  He gulped the liquid. ‘Why are you helping me? You don’t owe me anything.’

  ‘I’m doing it for Owen and for Georgie. You are his grandpa, after all, and I believe you wanted to do your best by him, but you chose the wrong way to do it. Lie down now and rest.’

  Jacob sank back on the bunk. ‘They’ll come after us. Salter has taken all my money but he wants the Margaret. She’s all I have left in the world.’

  ‘We’ll put as much distance as we can between us and them.’

  ‘Don’t go to Three Mills,’ Jacob murmured drowsily. ‘That’s where they’ll expect to find us. Take the river and head north.’

  ‘That’s what I thought, Pa,’ Effie said, pulling the coverlet up to his chin. ‘Tom and I can handle the boat. Rest easy now.’

  With Effie at the tiller and Tom leading Champion, they made good progress and were out of Limehouse Cut and navigating the River Lea before noon. They stopped once to buy milk and a sack of potatoes from a farm along the way, and the farmer’s wife gave Tom permission to refill their water barrel from the stream that flowed through their field. Once again they started their slow progress northward with Effie at the tiller while Georgie played with his wooden bricks by her feet. The sun beat down on them from a clear sky, and, if it had not been for the fear of being pursued and the worry about Jacob’s declining state of health, Effie thought that she could be happy to go on like this forever.

  ‘Ahoy, there. Lock keeper.’

  The sound of Tom’s voice brought Effie back to earth and she realised that they had reached Old Ford locks, and she looked up, shielding her eyes against the sunlight as Jim Hoskins strolled over to open the massive gates. ‘So you found the Margaret then?’ he shouted, his voice barely audible above the groans of the creaking metal and the sound of rushing water.

  ‘As you can see,’ Tom called back.

  Jim cupped his hands around his mouth. ‘Come over here, boy. I’ve something to tell you.’

  Effie was consumed with curiosity but she had to be content to wait until they were safely through the lock and out the other side. After a brief conversation with Jim, Tom leapt back on board and bounded over to her grinning from ear to ear. ‘What did I tell you, Effie?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but it looks as though I’m about to find out.’

  ‘I said he’d come back and you didn’t believe me. I knew Toby was a good ’un.’

  ‘What are you talking about? If you don’t tell me what Mr Hoskins said I think I might scream.’

  ‘He came back for me. Toby turned up here yesterday looking for me, as I knew he would. He told Hoskins that his business had taken him a bit longer than he thought.’

  ‘So where is he now?’

  ‘When Hoskins told him that we’d found each other, Toby went looking for us,’ Tom said, beaming.

  Effie frowned. ‘If he’d followed the towpath he would have caught up with us by now.’

  ‘You just want to believe the worst of him, don’t you?’ Tom cried angrily. ‘He must have taken the Back River which would explain why he didn’t come across us. He’s probably making enquiries at the tavern even as we speak.’

  ‘And by asking questions there he’ll have alerted the Salters to the fact that we came this way. We’d best leave now, Tom. Neither of us would stand a chance against the Salters, and Pa-in-law would do anything to get his hands on some of that evil substance they encouraged him to take.’

  ‘Let’s leave him then, Effie,’ Tom said urgently. ‘We could take Champion and the mare and ride to that place you spoke of in the middle of the marsh. Or we could join the fair as you said we would.’

  It was a tempting idea and it made good sense, but Effie’s conscience would not allow her to agree. ‘Salter wants the Margaret and he’ll stop at nothing to get it. We can’t leave the old man to their mercy. He may be hateful, but he’s Georgie’s grandfather for all that.’

  They travelled on despite Tom’s reluctance to help the man who had caused them so much hardship, but no matter how persuasive his arguments, Effie was adamant that family must come first. She was determined to stay with Jacob until he regained his health and could see the Salters for what they were. When he was free of the twin demons of drink and drugs, she would leave him to manage his own life; until then he was her responsibility. She owed that much to Owen, and she was unshakeable in her resolve to do the right thing.

  They continued northward, stopping only for brief spells to feed and water the horses and for Tom to rest and bathe his sore feet. Effie was horrified when she saw the state of his boots. The soles were worn through and his toes poked out through a gap in the uppers. They were past the point where a cobbler could repair them and Effie took Jacob’s Sunday best boots from the cabin while he slept. Tom protested that he would rather suffer sore feet than wear anything belonging to Jacob, but Effie solved the predicament by tossing Tom’s old boots into the canal, leaving him little choice other than walking barefoot. With a long day ahead of him, Tom reluctantly put on Jacob’s boots and was forced to admit that they were a perfect fit.

  ‘It’s like wearing dead men’s shoes,’ he muttered, staring down at his feet.

  Effie thrust a mug of tea in his hands and a bowl of warmed-up porridge left over from breakfast. ‘Here, eat your dinner, and look after Georgie. I won’t be more than a few minutes.’

  ‘Porridge for dinner?’ Tom stared at his plate in disgust.

  ‘When I’ve got two hands to work with I can make bread, and until then you’ll have to put up with porridge, and the same for supper unless you’d like to peel some taters. You need two hands for that as well.’

  ‘I was better off living with the old sow,’ Tom said, grinning. ‘At least Ma Hoskins fed me well.’

  Georgie picked up a potato and was about to sink his teeth into it when Effie swooped on him and took it away. He opened his mouth to bawl but Tom dipped his spoon into the porridge and fed it to Georgie. ‘We’ll share our dinner and then you can help me peel the spuds.’ He glanced up at Effie with raised eyebrows. ‘I hope you ain’t going to fuss round the old man while I do woman’s work.’

  ‘If you must know, I’m going to get out of these filthy clothes,’ Effie said, cuffing him playfully round the head. ‘And I’m going to have a strip wash so don’t come into the cabin until I say so.’ She left them, safe in the knowledge that Georgie was in good hands.

  Jacob was still sleeping with the help of another small dose of laudanum that he had begged for when his craving became too intense, and Effie was able to strip off her soiled garments without embarrassment. She put them in a bucket of water and lye soap to soak and set about washing herself. It was wonderful to feel clean again and she towelled her skin until it was tingling and pink. Earlier that morning she had been relieved to find her old clothes undisturbed in a drawer beneath her bunk. They would have been little use to Sal even if she had found them as she was more than double Effie’s size, but at least she had not thrown them out or pawned them.

  Every movement was painful but Effie managed to struggle into clean undergarments topped with a white cotton blouse and a grey linsey-woolsey skirt. Fastening the buttons took time and patience, and she dragged a comb through her hair but she was beaten when it came to tying it back with a length of red ribbon. She went out t
o join Tom who was playing happily with Georgie.

  ‘I need some help to tie my hair back, Tom.’

  ‘What am I?’ he demanded, chuckling. ‘A blooming lady’s maid?’

  ‘Yes, and a very poor one you’d make too.’ Effie thrust the ribbon into his hand. ‘Do this for me and I’ll take a turn at leading the horses while you rest your poor feet.’

  Tom pulled a face. ‘And play nursemaid to Georgie, I suppose. That’s not much of a rest.’

  ‘Woman’s work is never done,’ Effie said with mock severity. ‘As a matter of fact, I thought he could ride on Champion’s back, but you’ll have to lift him up there for me.’

  The afternoon passed pleasantly and Effie kept glancing at Georgie as he sat astride Champion’s broad back with his little legs stuck out at right angles. She had not until now realised how much he had grown in the last two months, and, despite the upheavals that he had undergone in his short life, he seemed none the worse for his experiences. His happy smiles and chuckles were enough to gladden any mother’s heart. The summer sun shone from a cloudless sky and the scent of clover sweetened the air. They had left the city streets and foul-smelling manufactories behind them and they passed through fields of ripening wheat and barley. The muddy water of the canal was dyed blue by the reflection of the sky and she had put all thoughts of the Salters out of her mind.

  That evening, having moored in a quiet spot, Effie set about making their supper of boiled potatoes which they ate with slivers of melting cheese. When they had finished their meal, Tom took Georgie with him to settle the horses for the night, and Effie returned to the cabin to see if Jacob, who had refused all offers of food, had changed his mind about eating. She had a pan of oatmeal and water simmering on the hob in readiness for breakfast next morning, and she hoped he might take a little of the gruel, but Jacob would have none of it. He accepted a cup of sweet tea, querulously demanding brandy, which Effie ignored. He fell back against the pillows, weakened by a bout of coughing.

  ‘I must speak to you, Pa,’ Effie said softly. ‘We’re heading northward but we have no cargo. I need you to tell me what to do.’

  ‘What do I care?’ Jacob moaned. ‘I’m not long for this world. Do as you please.’

  Effie stared at him, shocked by this unexpected pronouncement. ‘That’s the laudanum talking,’ she said briskly. ‘You feel bad now but it will pass. I won’t leave you while you’re sick, but we have to find a cargo or there’ll be no money for food or hay for the horse.’

  Jacob’s thin hand shot out and he gripped Effie’s wrist with surprising strength. ‘Take the boy. Get away from here before Salter catches up with us. He wants the Margaret so let him have it. I’ve fought my last battle and now I’m on me way out, Effie.’

  A cold shiver ran down her spine as she looked into his eyes and realised that he was not rambling now. She could see a glimmer of his old self in the wreckage of a human being that had once been a proud and dominant man. ‘You’re not dying, Pa. I’ll look after you until you are well again.’

  ‘Why should you, girl? I’ve treated you and that brother of yours badly, and I’ve blamed you for Owen’s death, but I know now I was wrong.’ He pulled a rag from beneath his pillow and held it out for her to see the unmistakeable dark red stains. ‘I’ve known for months,’ he murmured. ‘It’s over for me and for the Margaret too.’

  Effie was only too familiar with the symptoms of consumption and her breath hitched in her throat. ‘I didn’t know. I’m sorry.’

  Jacob’s eyes flashed with some of their old vigour. ‘Why should you grieve for me? I’ve done nothing for you, and you are nothing to me. Owen was all I had and he’s gone. You’ll take the boy, but only because I can’t look after him. Now give me brandy and laudanum and then leave me alone.’

  Reluctantly, Effie went to the cupboard where she had hidden the brandy.

  ‘Give me the bottle,’ Jacob growled. ‘Add all the laudanum. It’s not going to make much difference to me now, Effie Grey. Put a sick man out of his misery forever.’

  Effie stared at him in horror and disbelief. ‘What are you saying, Pa?’

  Jacob leaned over the edge of the bunk, holding out his clawed hand. ‘Give it to me and the laudanum. It will all be over by morning and you’ll be free.’

  ‘No. I won’t do it,’ Effie cried passionately. ‘I’ll look after you. We’re free of the Salters now. They would have caught up with us by now if they meant business. Tom and I can work the canal as we used to and we’ll make a good living. You always intended that Georgie should follow in Owen’s footsteps. I won’t stop him, if that’s what he decides to do.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Jacob said, shaking his head. ‘The drink and the opium had a price. They made sure that I couldn’t do without them.’

  ‘What are you saying, Pa?’

  ‘In a moment of weakness, I signed the papers. The Margaret belongs to Salter, and you’ve stolen it from under his nose.’ Another violent paroxysm of coughing caused Jacob to reach for the rag and hold it to his mouth. Blood trickled down his chin and he collapsed against the pillows gasping painfully for every breath.

  Effie was too stunned to move or speak, but a hullabaloo outside made her leap to her feet.

  ‘Effie, come quick. It’s the law.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  FRIGHTENED SHRIEKS FROM Georgie brought Effie to her senses. She tore out of the cabin to find Tom on deck with Georgie in his arms and two police constables standing on the towpath with Salter at their side.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Effie demanded, with a defiant toss of her head.

  ‘That’s the bitch who stole my craft,’ Salter roared. ‘Arrest them all, Officer.’

  The more senior police constable turned to Salter with the hint of a smile. ‘Isn’t the baby a bit young to be a felon, sir?’

  Salter’s face flushed brick-red. ‘This isn’t funny. I want you to arrest that woman and the boy for stealing this vessel which is legally mine.’

  The younger policeman cleared his throat nervously. ‘Excuse me, guv, but my pa is a lock keeper at Lea Bridge Dock. I believe the owner to be a certain Jacob Grey.’

  ‘He was the owner,’ Salter snapped. ‘He signed it over to me all legal and above board. This is my vessel and she stole it.’

  The senior constable eyed Effie severely. ‘Is this true, ma’am?’

  ‘Mr Grey is a sick man, Officer,’ Effie said firmly. ‘My pa-in-law would not have willingly given away the boat that has been his home and his livelihood for thirty years or more.’

  Tom thrust a sobbing Georgie into Effie’s arms and he leapt ashore, squaring up to Salter with his hands fisted. ‘You’re a liar and a bully. You want the old man’s money and you’ll stop at nothing to get it.’

  ‘That’s slander.’ Salter grabbed Tom by the throat.

  ‘And that’s enough of that,’ the senior officer said, dragging them apart. ‘This is a matter to be sorted out by the magistrate in the morning.’

  ‘I want you to arrest them,’ Salter muttered. ‘They’ll be gone by daybreak if you let them go free.’

  ‘I want a word with Mr Grey,’ the constable said firmly. ‘Don’t worry, ma’am. I won’t upset the old gentleman but I need a statement from him.’

  Georgie buried his face in his mother’s shoulder and Effie held him tightly. Just hours ago they had been laughing and enjoying their freedom, and now it seemed as though everything was going to be snatched from them. ‘He’s in the cabin, Officer. Please don’t upset him any more than you have to.’

  ‘I’ll handle him gently, ma’am.’ He stepped on board, pausing at the cabin door to address his subordinate. ‘Keep an eye on those two, Morris. If they start anything – cuff them.’

  Constable Morris leapt to attention. ‘Right you are, guv.’ He glanced nervously at Salter. ‘You heard him, mate. I suggest you calm down and act sensibly.

  Salter stuffed his hands in his pockets. ‘You won’t get away with t
his, missis,’ he said, scowling. ‘I’ve got written proof that the Margaret belongs to me, so you’re wasting your time making sheep’s eyes at the copper.’

  Tom fisted his hands but Effie shook her head. ‘Don’t, Tom. He’s just trying to start a fight. He’d love to see us locked up in a police cell.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Salter sneered. ‘You’ll end up in jail if there’s any justice.’

  ‘You can all shut up,’ Constable Morris said angrily. ‘You heard what the guv said. I don’t want to hear another word from any of you.’

  They waited in silence, except for Georgie who snuffled and gave the occasional hiccup. Effie wished that the constable would hurry as her good arm was aching beneath Georgie’s weight and she was beginning to feel sick with apprehension. Whatever happened they were in a parlous state. She had not realised until last night that Jacob’s illness was not caused by drink or even the drug that temporarily robbed him of his wits. She knew that he had always suffered from a weak chest, but she had never heard him complain or even hint that he might have contracted the disease that had killed his wife and son. Effie shifted from foot to foot as they waited for the constable to reappear. The summer dusk was closing in on the Hackney Cut, leaving just a pearly glimmer in the west where the sun had plummeted beneath the horizon in a fireball of crimson and gold.

  Tom climbed back on board. ‘Let me take him, Effie,’ he whispered, holding his arms out to relieve her of her heavy child. ‘He’s almost asleep anyway.’

  Reluctantly, and only because her arm was now numb and she was in danger of dropping him, Effie handed Georgie to her brother. She turned at the creak of the cabin door as it opened and the constable stepped out onto the deck. His expression was grave.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Mr Grey, and I’ve decided to leave his daughter-in-law and her brother on board for tonight.’ He raised his hand for silence as Salter began to protest. ‘The old gentleman is very sick, and I don’t want to distress him any more than necessary. You will all report to the magistrate’s court in the morning and there the matter will be settled one way or another.’