Island of a Thousand Springs

by Sarah Lark

  The girl nodded with a hint of admiration in her eyes, then put the mug on the table, and disappeared downstairs to tell her mother what the young lady had requested of her. Nora sighed with relief when she closed the door behind her.

  “Joan is a good child,” Simon said quietly, as if he wanted to reprimand Nora for her harsh words.

  Nora shrugged. “And her mother is a dragon!” She said. “But I’ll deal with it, I …”

  Simon smiled weakly. “The prince is supposed to slay the dragon,” he reminded her gently.

  Nora rolled her eyes. “Tomorrow, darling, tomorrow you will cut the head off the dragon. But first you must rid yourself of this cough. And you can’t do that if you are not warm, and dry, and if this monstrous woman lets you starve! Now drink,”

  Nora went in search of a cup or a glass, and eventually found an old earthenware tumbler. She poured some of the beer into it and handed it to Simon, but he was still shaking too much to hold the cup. Nora helped him guide it to his mouth and closed his hands around it to warm them.

  “Perhaps we should’ve ordered rum,” she mumbled.

  Simon drank thirstily, and Nora immediately saw the effect the hot liquid had on him. “You can’t stay here!” he repeated, with more energy than he’d been able to muster so far.

  Nora’s twisted up her mouth like a naughty little girl. Then she smiled. “Just try and stop me,” she said as if ready for a fight.

  Simon strenuously sat up. “Nora, you may not be alone with a man in an apartment. It … it will ruin your reputation …” He sank back on his bed.

  “I don’t care,” Nora said shortly. “On the contrary, it’s even better for me. My father is away and if he comes back and half the city knows that little Nora Reed has run off with her sweetheart, then he can cast me off or host a wedding. Believe me, it’ll be the latter.”

  Simon shook his head. “You’ve already deceived yourself once,” he quietly reminded her. “Nora, all the things he told me … he will never allow it, never and … and he was right.” Nora wanted to take him by the arm again, but he turned away. Just the slight effort even made him start coughing again. “He is absolutely right, Nora, I will never be able to provide you a befitting life. And now … Nora, this is not a little cold, it’s been going on too long. This is …”

  Simon didn’t say the word, but even Nora had to know the signs of consumption. Even in the best circles, people died of it. And here, in the narrow streets of the East End, the epidemic was everywhere.

  Nora shook her head. “It will heal when we’re in the south!” She said with certainty. “The cold and the wet here — we’re not cut out for it. But you must gather your courage, darling! Wait and see — when there is a fire burning and we have candles … candles, yes, we need light. We’ll make ourselves comfortable, and I will tell you about Cooper Island. Lady Wentworth has described it to me in detail. And I still haven’t told you everything from the book that she lent me, about Barbados, and the jungle, and the beach. There’s even a proper city there. She says …”

  Simon gave in — although, he also had little more time to protest, as Joan soon reappeared. This time, she had a bowl with warm water.

  “The chimney sweep is here,” the girl explained. “And mother is gathering up the bedding. She’s complaining, because she has to take her own, and she wants two pence if she has to get clean sheets. And I thought … maybe the lord would like to wash up?”

  Just then, Nora was startled when something small and soot-black suddenly rappeled down the chimney and plopped onto the cold hearth. At first she thought it was a leprechaun — or even Santa Claus. But then the tiny thing turned out to be a boy of about five swinging a broom.

  “And do it right, Tom, so that I don’t get any more complaints!”

  A man’s voice came from above. Apparently, the chimney sweep had let down the little boy on a rope to do his work. The shaft was narrow and an adult, or even just a large child, would not have fit through.

  Nora watched in horror as the child knocked the soot from the walls of the chimney with visible exertion. The boy seemed underfed and was coughing. Nora wanted to say something to him, but nothing came to mind that she could use to comfort him. A penny, perhaps? But, if she could believe Bobby, that would already be enough wages for all of the work. And the master would surely take it away from the little one. At home, she would have had sweets, but here …

  Before she could do anything, the chimney sweep had pulled his little apprentice back up. He continued hanging in the shaft and sweeping the walls.

  “Almost done!” The man then called from above. “When we’re gone, you can make a fire.”

  Of course, the wood was still missing, but Nora was counting on Bobby. And anyway, first she had to help Simon wash up. He insisted, however, that she turn away. Despite his weakness, he stood up, and Nora’s heart ached when she heard him cough again.

  In the meantime, Nora looked for a nightshirt. She blushed a bit while doing so, as she hadn’t ever seen her father in one. But now was no time for shame — and if she married Simon, they would eventually be sharing a bed anyway. Nora had relatively clear ideas about what lay ahead. After all, the girls of high society never tired of whispering about it. Faire l’amour had been considered a type of parlor game in the court of the Sun King, and now it was slowly sweeping through England.

  Nora did not fear her wedding night with Simon, as she had always enjoyed stretching out beside him in the park in summer. She thought longingly of their shared boat trip, when she had been as bold as to dare to reach under his shirt and caress his bare chest. There was no reason not to do that again now.

  While she was looking through Simon’s few possessions, Joan returned with fresh bedding — actual down blankets, in fact. Concerning the covers, however, Nora didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry. They would have to be washed. Heavens, she would need a basin, and pots for cooking, and all these things that she hardly knew what to do with! The word trousseau suddenly held new meaning — up until now, she had only thought of silver, porcelain, fine furniture, and table linens.

  Simon allowed Nora to help him into a fresh nightshirt. The new covers and another serving of the hot beer warmed him at least enough that he was no longer shivering. Nora sat down beside him, stroked his forehead, and massaged his temples. And as she began to tell him of Barbados, he fell straight asleep. The cold had probably robbed him of sleep for too long.

  Nora thought about whether she could lie down to rest in the small room, but first she ate a bit of the stew that Joan had brought up, and then Bobby arrived with a large basket full of firewood.

  “All hell has broken loose at the offices, Miss. Your coachman is looking for you,” the boy explained, as he started building a fire. Nora watched him attentively. She had never done it herself, but she would have to learn. “Of course, I didn’t betray anything, but they already suspect something.” He expressively gestured with his hands. “I think they want to tell your father.”

  Nora nodded, although she felt uneasy. Well, her father was now at sea and the earliest a letter could reach him wouldn’t be until the next ship got to Amsterdam. Peppers, however, she assumed was certainly capable of getting Simon’s address. Would he arrive here and pull her out? Without an express request from his master? Nora was not sure. Peppers adored her, but he was first and foremost a faithful servant to Thomas Reed. It would probably depend on his assessment of the situation: if he also took her love for Simon as a childish infatuation, then he would force her to leave her beloved.

  Early evening came round, however, and nothing happened. Did Peppers still not have the address? But it was possible that the old coachman was indecisive. Nora rolled over, snuggled up in her coat in front of the cozy, flickering fire, and thought that she could start by being pleased with what she had achieved that afternoon.

  Unfortunately, she could only enjoy her rest for a short time. Simon’s cough and his laborious breathing took her fr
om her sleep, and she then recoiled in horror when small, leathery feet pattered over her bare legs. Mice! Or possibly even rats! Nora would put out poison or acquire a cat. The later seemed more pleasant, but she was already preemptively worried about the animal. The meat in the soup had seemed quite strange to Nora.

  And then, in the second half of the night, Nora began to worry about money. Although things were cheap in the East End, the most necessary measures and purchases still swallowed one penny after another. Nora’s purse would soon be empty. The young woman panicked imagining it, but then remembered the existence of pawnshops. She would first pawn her farthingale. The women in the East End did well going about without them. The voluminous dresses made any kind of physical work impossible, anyway. And she would pay a doctor with the money. That was the most important thing. Simon needed a doctor.

  CHAPTER 5

  It was easy to get money for her dress — after all, Mrs. Paddington dealt in second-hand clothing. She made an offer, which Nora did her best to bring up. After all, she was a merchant’s daughter and she remembered her father’s first rule: always obtain several quotes before you embark on a trade.

  Thus, Nora told Mrs. Paddington that she would ask around at other garment dealers, whereupon the landlady’s offer immediately rose considerably. Nora then accepted. She still had a variety of tasks to take care of and didn’t want to leave Simon alone for too long. He was doing somewhat better that morning he — he had even insisted on relighting the fireplace himself, and had got out a kettle, although there was no tea. Nora tried to borrow some from a neighbor on the first floor, and caught her just before she left the house. Mrs. Tanner worked as a weaver in one of the new factories, and had just been busy trying to calm her youngest children. Two of them were persistently crying for her. She had no tea and seemed to hardly know what it was. When Nora explained it to her, she was appalled, and advised against using water from the pipes in the streets to make an infusion.

  “You can’t drink that, dearie, it’ll give you the shits!”

  Instead, she recommended gin, and the confused Nora thought of the beer soup. Her father still raved about the traditional breakfast drink that was ever-present in his youth, although Queen Anne’s tea had replaced it. Mrs. Tanner had a pitcher of beer at home, and readily shared it with the new neighbor. And in turn, Nora promised to look after her youngest children for a while. Sarah and Robert, two and three years old, stayed alone in the room every day, and it broke Mrs. Tanner’s heart every day to leave her wailing children. Her older offspring went to work themselves: Hanna helped in a cookshop, Ben cleaned chimneys. Both had been exhausted that morning and their mother had to berate them to get out of the house on time.

  Nora coerced the reluctant Simon to drink the weak, heated beer and then lie down again while she went out.

  “I’ll just get some breakfast,” she claimed, but then hastened through the dirty streets with a much more extensive shopping list.

  Rat poison was easy to get; milk and butter a bit more difficult, especially since Nora didn’t have containers to put them in. Then she bought a jug, two tumblers, a pot, a pan, and the necessary knives and spoons. Bread and cheese were cheap, butter was very expensive, which surprised Nora, and tea and sugar were practically unattainable. Nora, who had never given a thought to the prices of food, learned that oil was just as affordable as potatoes and cabbage. No wonder that Mrs. Paddington’s stew from the previous evening had been made almost exclusively from it! Meat was extremely expensive, but Nora managed to purchase a few bones with some shreds of meat on them for her first attempt at cooking. Nora identified their animal of origin from the hooves and tail that the butcher had carelessly thrown on the street in front of his shop — she could be sure that she had neither cat nor horse in her pot! But with the stench of the slaughterhouse, she had already lost her appetite for her stew.

  Lastly, she purchased sweets for a halfpenny to make the young Tanner children happy. After dropping off her purchases with them, she set out in search of a doctor. She immediately rejected the idea of consulting her family physician. Dr. Morris lived in a house in Mayfair, not far from her own, and he would hardly do a house call to the East End. Furthermore, he would certainly betray her whereabouts to her father. And he was expensive. Finally, Nora begrudgingly asked Mrs. Paddington.

  “A quack? What for? For him up there? It’s not worth it, little lady — you can tell from a mile away that he’s not long for this world. Galloping consumption, lady … don’t people in your circles know? Well, it surely doesn’t stop for lords,” Mrs. Paddington laughed scornfully.

  “I would prefer to hear a diagnosis from a physician,” Nora responded in a dignified manner. “Perhaps you know someone who practices in this area. Otherwise I’ll have to wait for Mrs. Tanner.”

  Mrs. Paddington went on and on about how the Tanners probably couldn’t afford a doctor. Nora eventually gave up. Instead, she would cook and make sure that Simon was warm and comfortable. Perhaps he wouldn’t even need a doctor. Nora’s previous colds had always improved quickly once her maid convinced the lively girl to stay in bed a few days.

  Nora had assumed that she would have to talk Simon into staying in bed, but although he wanted to go out and look for a new position, his fever rose again and he returned to bed.

  “It will take at least a week before you’re feeling fit and well again!” she comforted him, and then proudly showed him her purchases.

  Simon was impressed when the young woman, quite naturally, hung the kettle over the hearth and boiled the bones in some water that she had also purchased from the grocer. To her astonishment, she had to ask in two shops before she found someone who kept spring water on stock, and it was more expensive than beer!

  “Where did you learn that?” Simon asked with amazement, as Nora began to cut cabbage and peel potatoes.

  Nora laughed. “My mother died so early and then they all pampered me, the cook, the maid, and the butler. But my nursemaid had a dalliance with the valet and, whenever he had a bit of time, they left me in the kitchen. I was allowed to look in the pots and help. As you can see, I’m still able!”

  Her stew hadn’t turned out as tasty as she’d hoped — with all of the price comparisons; Nora had forgotten the salt and pepper, leaving the soup relatively bland. But it was satisfying, and the little Tanners got to have some. They ravenously wolfed down the meager meal, and their mother was in tears as she thanked her.

  “You were only supposed to keep an eye on them,” she said shyly. “You didn’t have to feed them.”

  Nora was shocked to hear that the children normally only ate a chunk of bread during the day. She then asked Mrs. Tanner about a doctor and, luckily, the young woman knew someone.

  “Dr. Mason, but he’s not cheap. As to whether he’s good … well, actually, everyone that I know of that he’s called on has died. But most of them were already almost dead. And he must be a good fellow if he practises here, where no one can pay him.”

  Or such a bad doctor that he would have no patients elsewhere, Nora thought, but she thought better than to say it out loud. She didn’t want to think about it at all. Dr. Mason had to be a good doctor! Simon’s fever had risen as the day went on, and he was now plagued by bouts of coughing and shivering; it was a good idea for Dr. Mason to check on him soon.

  The doctor lived in the East End, but in a better neighborhood near the edge of the district. He seemed to have a staff too, as an older woman in a housemaid’s uniform opened the door for her. However, she did not seem as neatly groomed as the servants in the Reed household.

  “A cough, child?” she commented on Nora’s description of Simon’s symptoms. “And the man is not dying?” The woman shook her head disapprovingly. “Nah, the doctor won’t go out at this hour of evening for that. It’s almost the middle of the night! Come back again tomorrow. If he has nothing to do then, he’ll go with you.”

  Nora’s attempt to at least arrange a fixed appointment for a home vis
it on the next day came to nothing. Apparently, Dr. Mason only committed when the relatives of the sick came and picked him up. The young woman tried not to see this as a bad sign. The doctor had probably stood in front of closed doors too often when the family had decided that they couldn’t actually afford his visit.

  Nora spent another restless night on the floor in front of the fireplace and mentally put a mattress on the shopping list for the next day. Simon seemed to be sleeping poorly and was plagued by nightmares. Nora could hear him tossing, and turning, and continuously coughing. Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore, got up, and shyly snuggled in beside him on his narrow bed. He seemed to be soothed when she put her arms around him. She pulled his head to her shoulder, and felt something almost like happiness when he muttered her name, half-asleep. Even the coughing stopped, and near morning, Simon seemed to be in a deep, peaceful slumber.

  Nora was now only bothered by the scurrying of rats and mice in the attic, but it was probably the last night it would happen. With a bleeding heart, Nora had prepared some of her precious cheese with rat poison, and wished the mischievous animals a good meal before they took their last breaths.

  Simon seemed a little awkward when he awoke in Nora’s arms in the morning, but said he felt better than the day before.

  “Won’t you kiss me?” Nora asked, drunk with sleep, as Simon began to move beside her.

  Simon gently kissed her on the forehead, but with reluctance. It wasn’t right, her being here. It was not appropriate behavior for a gentleman to share his bed with his sweetheart before they were married. But on the other hand, he had never felt as happy as he did at the sight of Nora’s undone hair on his pillow. He felt her small, firm body beside him and thought about how wonderful it would be to make love to her. He cautiously let his lips wander from her temples, to her mouth and neck, caressing the tops of her breasts — before struggling through the first bout of coughing of the day.