A Mother's Wish

by Dilly Court

  Effie waited all evening for Seymour’s return. She paced around the front parlour where the empty trestles and the smell of beer were the only evidence that remained of her attempts to support her family. The long summer evening slowly darkened into night and Tom returned home but there was still no sign of Seymour. Effie was sick with worry. Anything could have happened to him and not knowing was worse.

  Next morning Tom went to work as usual and Effie made herself ready to attend the magistrates’ court. She left Georgie with Mary Smith and Dotty, confident that he was in safe hands, and she set off alone for the county court in Bow High Street. The waiting area was crammed with people of all ages. A burly chimney sweep was hanging grimly on to a skinny little boy. The whites of the child’s eyes, and the pink of his tongue when he opened his mouth to howl, were the only features visible beneath a thick crust of soot that made him look as though he were made of liquorice.

  ‘What’s he done?’ demanded a plump, matronly woman.

  ‘Stole tuppence from me,’ the sweep said, giving the child’s arm a savage tweak. ‘Bleeding little animal he is. Ungrateful little beast who don’t deserve a good master like meself.’

  Effie was about to protest when Ben strode into the room. He came to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, Effie. Only I was held up by a delivery from the brewery.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘That wasn’t the most tactful thing to say. I’m always putting my foot in it.’

  Cheered by having someone she knew to support her, Effie squeezed his fingers. ‘You came, that’s the main thing.’ She winced as the sweep slapped the boy around the head. ‘Stop that, mister,’ she cried angrily. ‘He’s little more than a baby.’

  ‘Mind your own business, missis. This limb of Satan might look innocent but he’s more trouble than he’s worth. If they send him to jail it will be one less of his kind to end up in the gutter.’

  ‘You can’t do anything,’ Ben whispered. ‘You’ll only make it worse for the boy if you take the master on.’

  Forgetting her own troubles, Effie wanted to snatch the little chap up in her arms and give him a cuddle. He was small and stunted and could have been any age from six to ten. He looked little older than Georgie but his wizened face was that of an old man and her heart went out to him. ‘It should be against the law,’ she said loudly. ‘Sending little boys up chimneys shouldn’t be allowed.’

  The boy gazed at Effie with eyes magnified by tears. He seemed more like a wild creature than a flesh and blood child.

  ‘Leave little chummy out of this, missis,’ the sweep said with a belligerent outthrust of his whiskery chin. ‘He gets three square meals a day and a bag of warm soot to sleep on at night. He ain’t no worse off than the little varmints living off dust heaps or scavenging down the sewers for silver spoons or similar.’

  ‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ Effie cried passionately.

  ‘You heard the lady.’

  The whole room had been listening to this fierce encounter and their heads turned as one to see who had spoken out in such stentorian tones.

  Effie half rose from her seat at the sight of Seymour Westlake standing in the doorway. He was an imposing figure but when he removed his wide-brimmed felt hat a muffled gasp rippled round the room as the onlookers observed his scarred face. Seemingly oblivious to their curious stares, he crossed the floor to where Effie and Ben were sitting. One look from Seymour and the plump woman made room for him, moving up a seat and drawing her skirts away from him as if he had something contagious.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ Seymour said with a courtly bow from the waist. He turned to the sweep. ‘As to you, sir, I imagine you are aware that sending small boys up chimneys has been illegal for many years. I would think very carefully about taking the child before the magistrate if I were you. It might be you who end up in prison for breaking the law, with child cruelty added on for good measure.’

  Someone clapped and then everyone, with the exception of the sweep, joined in. The sweep master rose to his feet. ‘Damn you to hell, mister.’ He dragged the unfortunate boy from the room, slamming the door as he left with such force that the glass panes rattled.

  Effie was close to tears. ‘That poor child. I can’t bear to think what will happen to him now.’

  ‘Nothing changes,’ Seymour said, shaking his head. ‘I shut myself away from the world for twenty years, but I see little improvement now.’

  ‘It’s appalling. It makes my problems seem so small.’ Effie took a hanky from her purse and wiped her eyes. She would have followed the sweep master and snatched the child from him but for the fact that she was to be called next into the courtroom.

  ‘Ben told me what happened yesterday,’ Seymour said in answer to her unspoken question. ‘I arrived back at the tavern too late to call on you, but I am here now and both Ben and I will speak up for you.’

  ‘Aye, that we will.’ Ben squeezed her hand. ‘Chin up, Effie. We’ll have you home in no time at all.’

  The two guinea fine was paid and Effie left the court relieved, but angry and with a lighter purse. The magistrate had scolded her for her ignorance of the law, telling her that it was no excuse, and in her heart she knew that he was right. Even so she could not help feeling resentful. Circumstances had forced her into desperate measures and it was easy for a man with a comfortable home and money enough for his everyday needs to look down on the poor who were simply trying to survive. As she walked homewards between Ben and Seymour she could still hear the cries of ‘little chummy’ in her head. She could visualise his terrified face and the desperation in his eyes. She wished with all her heart that she could make a difference to a world where selfish people, too wrapped up in their own lives to care about others, allowed this sort of cruelty and injustice to continue.

  ‘I wasn’t allowed to see Toby.’

  Seymour’s voice broke into her thoughts and she raised her head to give him a questioning look. ‘Is he in Millbank prison?’

  ‘I believe so, but the gatekeeper was not very helpful. He advised me to go through official channels, whatever those might be.’

  ‘It’s an excuse for the lawyers to make money out of us respectable citizens,’ Ben grumbled. ‘Like the beak charging Effie two guineas for an oversight on her part. The really evil characters like Salter get away with it and we’re the ones who have to pay.’

  ‘But did you see your friend, sir – I mean, Seymour?’ Effie demanded breathlessly. Her companions were walking so fast that she had to run in order to keep up with them.

  ‘No, my dear. Unfortunately he had changed his place of business several times and I spent hours going from office to office in the City. Eventually I found someone in his club who knew where he’d gone, and I’m sorry to say he’s left the country, most probably taking anything that was left of my investments with him.’

  ‘You mean there’s no money for Toby’s appeal?’

  ‘Unless I can find Forster it seems a hopeless case.’

  ‘Did they say where he’d gone?’ Effie clung on to hope, but it was receding fast.

  ‘Argentina.’ Seymour drew his mouth down in a wry smile. ‘I was told he had gone there to mine for silver, no doubt using my money to fund his expedition.’

  They had reached Albert Place and Effie fumbled in her purse for the key. ‘If you would both like to come inside I’ll make us some tea. I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything stronger.’ She put the key in the lock but it would not turn. She tried again.

  ‘Here, let me have a go,’ Ben said, taking it from her. ‘You’ve been through a lot this morning, my girl. No wonder your hands are shaking.’ He put the key in the lock and tried again, to no avail.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ Effie said. ‘There must be something stuck in the keyhole.’

  ‘No, missis. I changed the locks.’

  Effie spun round to see a small man wearing a green-tinged black suit with leather patches at the elbows of his jacket, and a stiff pape
r collar that threatened to cut his throat each time he moved his head. He took off his battered bowler hat, tucking it beneath his arm. ‘I’m sorry, missis. Just doing me job.’

  ‘And what is your occupation, sir?’ Seymour demanded in a booming voice that echoed off the dilapidated buildings across the street, causing doors to open and heads to pop out like peas bursting from their pods. A small crowd began to assemble.

  ‘Bailiff, mister. This lady ain’t paid no rent this week and the landlord has received information that she’s a felon, and been up in court. I’ve been told to evict her.’

  Effie stared at him in disbelief. ‘You can’t do that. The rent isn’t due until Friday.’

  ‘I’m just doing me job.’

  The bailiff took a step backwards as Ben uttered a growl of displeasure. ‘No need for violence, cully.’

  ‘And taking great pleasure in it, unless I’m very much mistaken.’ Ben made a move as if to grab the man by the throat, but Seymour held up his hand.

  ‘Don’t touch him, Ben. You’ll only get yourself into trouble with the law, which I very much fear is on the side of this villain.’

  ‘Here, mister, I ain’t no villain, I’m just . . .’

  ‘Doing your job, I know,’ Seymour said severely. ‘But you can surely open the door and let this lady pack up her belongings?’

  ‘There must be some mistake,’ Effie cried passionately. ‘I’ve got the money indoors. Please let me go inside and get it.’

  ‘Can’t do that, missis. I’ve carried out me duty and everything in the house belongs to the landlord. The contents will be sold off to cover outstanding rent and costs.’ He turned and ran, the bundle of keys grasped in his hand jingling with every loping step.

  ‘I’ll go after him and make the little bugger open the door,’ Ben said, preparing to follow the terrified official.

  ‘No, don’t.’ Seymour laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘If he’s a bailiff he has the law on his side and I think we’ve seen enough of the magistrates’ court.’

  ‘But my things,’ Effie protested. ‘Everything I own is locked in that house. All our clothes and my pots and pans and Georgie’s toys . . .’

  ‘All can be replaced, Effie,’ Seymour said gently. ‘It’s harsh, I know, but how long would you have been able to hold on to the house without the ability to sell ale? It was a brave attempt to support yourself and your family, but it’s come to an end and you must accept help from your friends.’

  ‘I’d take you in, but you know how things are with the missis . . .’ Ben’s voice trailed off miserably and he avoided meeting Effie’s troubled gaze.

  ‘There’s no question about it,’ Seymour said firmly. ‘Marsh House will be your home from now on, Effie.’

  ‘I couldn’t. I mean, I know how little money you have and . . .’

  ‘I’m a rich man compared to you. I have property and enough income from our efforts at farming to keep the wolf from the door. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t want to be at Marsh House when Toby comes home?’

  Effie felt the ready blush flood her cheeks. ‘No, sir.’

  ‘No, Seymour,’ he said, smiling and placing his hand on her shoulder. ‘We’re going to be family, Effie. I’ll not only have a son, but a daughter and a grandson as well. Where is the little fellow?’

  Effie could see Mary and Dotty peering out of their front room window and the top of Georgie’s curly head and his tiny starfish fingers clutching the windowsill.

  ‘Georgie,’ she murmured, hurrying to the door and rattling the knocker. ‘Mary, it’s me.’

  ‘Best bring Effie to the pub, sir,’ Ben said gruffly. ‘My missis won’t have nothing to say if she’s with you, but I’d best get back there now. I’ve work to do.’

  ‘Of course.’ Seymour shook his hand. ‘We’ll follow on when we’ve got the boy.’

  Effie bent down to catch Georgie in her arms as the door opened and he hurtled out to greet her.

  Mary eyed Seymour nervously. ‘I’d ask you in, but I’m in the middle of a big wash. My house ain’t fit to be seen by a gent.’

  ‘I expect you saw what happened just now,’ Effie said, glancing over her shoulder at the silent crowd on the far side of the street. ‘It will be all round Bow that the bailiff was called in.’

  Mary’s cheeks, already flushed with heat from slaving over the washtub, deepened in colour. ‘Don’t take no notice of them over the road. They’re sluts and trollops, all of them. They’ll gab on about the bailiff throwing you out of the house for a day or two and then it’ll be some other poor sod who gets the sharp end of their spiteful tongues. I got no time for them.’

  Effie put Georgie down in order to give Mary a hug. ‘I’ll miss you, Mary. You’ve been a good friend.’

  Dotty tugged at her mother’s apron strings. ‘C’mon, Ma. We’ll never get done at this rate.’

  ‘And we should be going on our way,’ Seymour said gently. ‘It’s a long ride to Marsh House.’ He proffered his arm to Effie, ignoring the titters from the women across the street.

  ‘Goodbye, Mary,’ Effie said tearfully. ‘Take care of your ma, Dotty.’ Taking Georgie by the hand, she allowed Seymour to lead them away from the house which she had worked so hard to turn into a home. ‘We must find Tom,’ she said urgently. ‘He doesn’t know what’s happened.’

  Seymour patted her hand as it nestled in the crook of his arm. ‘All in good time, Effie. We’ll get you and Georgie settled in the parlour at the tavern and I’ll send the stable boy to find your brother. I’ll need to arrange transport to take you to Marsh House.’

  Effie shot him a curious glance. ‘Aren’t you coming with us?’

  ‘No, my dear, I’ll stay a day or two longer. I’m not leaving without seeing Toby and I have the name of a lawyer in Lincoln’s Inn Fields who is supposed to be the best in the business.’

  ‘I don’t want to be rude,’ Effie said tentatively, ‘but can you afford his fees?’

  Seymour threw back his head and laughed. ‘You get straight to the point and that’s very refreshing, Effie. The answer to your question is no, but if everything goes to plan that won’t be a problem.’

  If Maggie Hawkins was dismayed to see Effie walking into her pub, she hid her feelings well. She greeted them with a bright smile painted on her thin features as she ushered them into the best parlour. Seymour thanked her and complimented her on the style and comfort of the room, which to Effie’s eyes was over-furnished and fussily decorated. The whitewashed walls were hung with sentimental prints of angelic-looking children playing with fat little puppies, or posing like statues with flower-bedecked hoops held above their heads. Dusty velvet curtains draped the small window and every spare inch of shelf space was occupied by the type of cheap fairings that Leah might have sold from her stall.

  ‘This is our best room, sir,’ Maggie said proudly. ‘Will you require a meal, Mr Westlake?’

  ‘I’ll eat later, Mrs Hawkins, but I’m sure Effie and her child must be famished.’ He turned to Effie with an amused twitch of his lips. ‘Order whatever you fancy, my dear. I’m going out now but I’ll be back soon.’

  ‘You will send someone to find Tom, won’t you?’ Effie asked anxiously.

  ‘Consider it done.’

  There was a moment’s silence after Seymour left the room. Maggie stood in the doorway with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Effie could see the muscles at the corners of her mouth twitching as if she had something to say but was biting back harsh words.

  ‘I don’t want to put you out,’ Effie said hastily. ‘I’m more than happy to eat in the kitchen, and I would like to see Betty if it’s all right with you.’

  ‘The kitchen is where you belong,’ Maggie hissed. ‘But he wants you to be treated like a lady, so that’s how it shall be.’

  ‘This has nothing to do with Mr Westlake. I choose the kitchen and I don’t think you will be silly enough to make a fuss.’

  ‘Don’t you get all hoity-to
ity with me, you trollop,’ Maggie said through clenched teeth. ‘You’ve been after my Ben since the day you first showed up on our doorstep, but now I see you’ve set your sights higher. Good luck to you, I say.’

  Effie sighed, shaking her head. ‘I’m really sorry for you, Maggie. You’re making yourself miserable with your jealousy, and if anything drives Ben into another woman’s arms it will be you.’

  ‘And that woman would have been you if you hadn’t wheedled your way in with a toff.’

  ‘I like Ben as a friend and that’s all it ever was and ever will be.’ Seizing Georgie by the hand, Effie marched past her and made for the kitchen.

  ‘Them Salters was at the back of it,’ Betty said when Effie told her what had happened. ‘They’re out to make your life a misery and that’s for certain.’

  ‘I know, Betty, and that’s why I have no choice but to accept Mr Westlake’s invitation. At least we’ll be safe at Marsh House and I can wait there until Toby is released from jail, no matter how long it takes.’

  ‘I wish I could do more for you, ducks. And my poor little Aggie will be heartbroken if Tom goes with you.’

  Effie paused with a spoonful of soup halfway to her lips. ‘What a selfish creature I’ve become. Everything has happened so suddenly that I hadn’t given a thought to Tom’s feelings.’

  ‘He could stay with us. One more mouth to feed wouldn’t make no difference, and he could visit you on Sundays.’

  Effie put her spoon down as her appetite deserted her. ‘I’d have to talk it over with him. It would be his decision, Betty.’ She leaned over to wipe jam off Georgie’s chin, receiving a happy smile as he held his hand out for another of Betty’s jam tarts.

  ‘I’ll miss you both,’ Betty said wistfully. ‘You’re like family.’

  Effie broke a jam tart in half and gave one part to Georgie. ‘This isn’t goodbye, Betty. I’ll come and see you as often as I can.’ She looked up with a start as the outer door was flung open and Tom rushed into the kitchen, flushed and perspiring, with an anxious look on his face.

  ‘Are you all right, Effie? Seymour came to fetch me and he’s told me what happened this morning.’