by Mary Gibson
Eliza’s warmth was in stark contrast to the stony-faced woman of last night, but Nellie knew all about Madam Mecklenburgh’s reputation as a negotiator: ‘Feed ’em a juicy worm, reel ’em in,’ was what Ted used to say about her dealings with the bosses, ‘then whack ’em over the head before they know what’s hit ’em!’
Nellie knew she’d just been fed a juicy worm and waited to be reeled in. It wouldn’t do to struggle, not just yet; she needed to hear Eliza out first.
‘What I should have said last night was thank you.’ Eliza fixed her with a look of gratitude, which seemed genuine, though it could have been the first tug of the hook. ‘So let me say it now.’ Eliza reached out and squeezed Nellie’s hand as it rested on the table. ‘Thank you for stepping in to look after my family. And the other thing I should have said was let me help.’
Eliza waited for her response. Nellie, who’d heard the clicking of a reel being turned, wondered what Eliza’s ‘help’ might consist of. She suppressed an irritated sigh. If the woman thought she was in a boardroom with old Plum Duff, she was mistaken. She only had an hour’s break and if she clocked on late, they’d dock an hour’s pay. She decided to cut through Eliza’s old flannel. ‘What sort of help would that be, Mrs James?’
‘Please call me Eliza, and Mrs James is no longer appropriate either. In fact, I should tell you that my situation has changed, Nellie. As you can see, I’m no longer in Australia, but neither am I living with Mr James… which is one of the reasons why I can offer to help.’
Ahh, so she had made her bid for freedom! Sam was wrong in his prediction that she would go back to Ernest. But Nellie didn’t show her surprise; it was none of her business where Eliza lived.
‘Is your child with you, then?’ was all she said.
It was Eliza’s turn to be surprised, but Nellie thought she made a good show of hiding it. She reached to a small heart-shaped locket at her throat and Nellie saw a dark lock of plaited baby hair caught behind the glass.
‘Sam told you?’
Nellie nodded.
‘You’ve obviously grown close; Sam’s not the type to easily air the family dirty linen,’ Eliza said, with a hint of bitterness.
Nellie was surprised at her honesty; she could have gone on with the pretence of being married. Perhaps she deserved some honesty in return.
‘Yes, we are close. Life’s brought us together, and if you want to know the truth of it I hope we always will be.’
‘You love him then? Does he love you?’ Eliza asked softly.
Nellie felt tears prick her eyes. Dear God, she thought, don’t let them fall! ‘Nothing’s been settled, he wanted to wait… till after the war.’
‘Now I think I understand,’ Eliza said almost to herself, ‘why you are so fierce about keeping your promise to my mother. It’s for him, isn’t it?’
‘And for them. The poor little bleeders would’ve ended up with your Uncle George if not!’
Eliza surprised her with a deep laugh, which alerted Nellie. Here comes the whack on the head! she had just enough time to think, before Eliza interrupted her laugh suddenly.
‘But now there’s another choice, apart from Uncle George. Me! I’m already a mother, I have a house and the means to give them a good life. Nellie, you’re very young to be the little old woman who lived in the shoe! Why not let me relieve you of some of the burden at least?’
So sensible, so reasonable, Nellie thought, and so exactly what she didn’t want, wouldn’t allow. ‘No, Mrs… Eliza, thanks all the same. We may not have blood ties but we’re a family now. Anyway, Sam’s their guardian and that was his wish. I’m doing nothing without his say so.’
Eliza sat back in her seat, as did Nellie. The two women stared at each other in silence. Eliza was the first to speak. ‘I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, Nellie. Sam may be Charlie’s guardian, but I have a greater claim where Matty’s concerned.’ Her amenable manner had changed; there was steel in her tone, which set Nellie’s heart thumping.
‘Why is Matty any different from Charlie?’
Eliza seemed to hold her breath before landing her blow. ‘Because Matty is my daughter.’
If Eliza had been swinging a two-by-four plank she couldn’t have hit Nellie harder. She reeled under it, all the while trying to resolve the host of unanswered questions thrown up by this revelation. Most of all, she thought of poor Matty, who had loved her ‘mother’ more than life, who trusted her brother with such sweet loyalty. What would such knowledge do to her world, already ripped apart by death and war? Nellie knew she still grieved the loss of her mother. How would she survive being told all she’d known of her had been based on a lie?
‘Does Sam know?’ Stunned, this was the first question Nellie wanted answered.
‘He didn’t, not until the year of the strike. Then our mother told him.’
So he’d known, when he’d entrusted Matty to her, that she had a mother alive but, loving Matty as he did, of course he would want her shielded. And then Lizzie must have known too when she’d fixed on Nellie for a replacement mother. How bitterly she must have felt Eliza’s absence then.
‘She can’t ever know,’ Nellie said. ‘You can’t tell her.’ Eliza had lost her own world; surely she wouldn’t be so selfish as to rob Matty of hers?
‘Then don’t make me,’ Eliza replied.
A week of sickening anxiety followed Eliza’s visit. The first thing Nellie did was write to Sam. She had no idea exactly where he was; she suspected it was somewhere in Belgium but all his letters were heavily censored. The only consolation she had was that her letters got through to him eventually and she always got a reply, however brief. His letters were always cheerful; the only complaints he made were about the lice, which drove him mad with itching. Of death and terror he made no mention. The only request he ever made of her was that she should keep smiling. While Sam was suffering real bombshells in silence, she had to deal with Eliza’s bombshell and she wished with all her heart that she didn’t have to pass on the worry to Sam, but what could she do? She either gave Matty over to Eliza, or risked blowing the young girl’s world apart. They were all of them trudging through minefields not of their own making.
But there was one light shining for her in that dark week: Lily’s baby. She, Alice and Matty visited Lily the day after Nellie’s talk with Eliza at the coffee shop. Nellie had told Alice Eliza’s story and was relieved when her reaction was the same as her own. She’d sworn Alice to secrecy, deciding this was as far as the story should go till Sam’s reply arrived. But she was determined to show nothing of her trouble to Lily. Once they were all gathered round the newborn, a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.
‘Ohhh, look, Lily, look at his round little face, it’s Jock all over!’
‘I know,’ said the proud mother, holding the infant up and showing him round like a lot in an antique dealer’s, ‘but look at all this Bosher hair, he’s going to be a right little ginger nut! Still,’ she said, kissing the baby’s pretty nose, ‘at least he hasn’t got me dad’s squashed nose!’
Nellie took the baby into her arms and gave him a finger to grasp. She could see Matty looking on longingly.
‘Can Matty have a hold?’ Nellie asked Lily.
‘’Course she can! He loves a cuddle, doesn’t mind who from.’
Nellie relinquished the baby and Matty took the child, rocking him in her arms. She walked him around the bedroom, singing a soft lullaby.
‘That’s a lovely tune, Matty,’ Lily said, as she saw her baby’s eyes droop and close.
Matty looked up from the baby, smiling. ‘Mum used to sing it to me.’
Nellie felt the pity of it; she needed no other confirmation that she was doing the right thing.
‘Well, I wish you’d teach it to me, looks like it’s doing the trick!’ said Lily.
Nellie was astonished when Sam’s reply came after only six days. This was a record and she thanked God and the army post office that her wait was so soon over. She rip
ped open the envelope, scanning the letter first to see how long it was, then she stroked her fingers across the firm, flowing handwriting. This was the closest she could be to Sam while this damn war lasted and she allowed herself that moment. When she took in the contents she understood its speedy arrival – it was completely uncensored!
Holding the sheet of paper in a shaking hand, she read:
My dear Nellie
I am writing this quickly, before we go up the line tonight. I explained family circumstances to my CO, who is a good bloke and has allowed me to do my own censoring for speed. Firstly Nellie, I’m sorry my sister Eliza has landed this on you while I’m not there to help you. You might be asking why I didn’t tell you about Matty, the truth is Nellie I grew up thinking she was my sister and that is what she will always be to me. I hope you don’t think I did wrong, but I thought it best not to burden you with that secret. I want to put your mind at rest about Matty, I have it in writing from Mum in her will that I am to be Matty’s guardian. You will find it in the box of policies I left with Charlie. If it comes to anything legal, this letter is proof of my wishes that Matty be brought up by you, as my mother requested. Show it to Eliza and I trust she will do the right thing by Matty. You’re right, Nellie, that Matty is better off not knowing and, if Eliza truly loves her, she will say the same. I’m surprised she kept her baby boy, but when you see her again, please tell her I’m glad we have another William in the family. Write and tell me what happens and thank you, dearest Nellie, for all you‘ve done for me and my family. Knowing you are looking after them makes it easier to do my bit out here. Give my love to Alice and the children. God bless and keep smiling!
Love, Sam
‘Oh, Sam, you’re going up the line,’ she announced mournfully to the empty room, and in order to banish the sickening fear gathering in the pit of her stomach, she prayed, ‘Please God, keep him safe and let him come home to us.’
But Nellie thanked God that Lizzie had named Sam as Matty’s guardian in her will and she waited impatiently for Charlie’s return. And as soon as he came home from work, she asked him for the box of policies. If Eliza forced her into a battle for Matty, she would not hesitate to produce Lizzie’s will. At least now she would have some ammunition. Charlie, puzzled by her request, retrieved the box of family documents from under his bed and handed it to her.
‘Is anything wrong with Sam?’ he asked anxiously.
The poor boy had been no trouble to her since he came, had handed over his wages dutifully once he started work and had good-naturedly squashed Freddie’s bossiness, without any help from her. Nellie felt guilty that because he made no fuss he got little attention from her. Eliza had said she was like the little old woman who lived in the shoe, and Charlie, she felt with a pang, was one of the children who had suffered in the crowd.
She hugged him. ‘’Course not, silly, I would’ve told you. No, it’s just some family business he wants me to sort out. He sends his love to you all and he seemed quite cheerful. Tell you what, why don’t you write and tell him how you’re getting on at Wicks’s, he’d love to hear about that, and tell him about Blackie. He loved that horse.’
Charlie looked pleased at the idea of doing something for his brother and Nellie let him use her meagre supply of writing paper. He sat at the kitchen table, writing steadily in his careful copperplate, while she went through the box. She quickly scanned Lizzie’s will, before slipping it into her pinafore pocket. It was just as Sam had said and she felt armed. Now all she had to do was wait and see what steps Eliza would take.
She didn’t have long to wait. Eliza wrote that she was coming to London the following week with the idea of spending some time with Matty; she made no mention of Charlie. Again, the quiet young boy had been overlooked, but in this case, Nellie thought ruefully, it was more like a lucky escape. Nellie broached the subject at the tea table, and before she’d even finished detailing the plans, he interrupted. ‘Oh, it’s a work day, I can’t go! Wicks just lost another driver and he’s going to train me up for it.’ Charlie was clearly relieved he wouldn’t be included.
Matty was equally unenthusiastic about the idea of spending a day with Eliza. ‘That’s not fair! Why does he get let off?’ she chimed in. ‘And why is she coming round, upsetting things, anyway? She always used to upset Mum when she turned up and I don’t see what she wants with me now!’
‘She’s just being kind, Matty. Perhaps she thinks now Sam’s away you’d be feeling lonely.’
Nellie did not feel entirely comfortable playing Eliza’s advocate but, whatever she’d done, she was still Matty’s family and Nellie thought it best to tread softly for the time being.
Matty let out a snort. ‘Lonely! With all you lot round me? I never get a minute on me own!’ Her tinkling infectious laughter always came suddenly and brightened her sometimes sulky face. ‘More likely she’s feeling guilty.’ A remarkably observant girl, she picked up on people’s moods and motives, often seeing beneath the surface of things. ‘Well, let her take me out if she wants to, won’t make no difference to me.’ She shrugged.
Nellie felt sick at the prospect of Eliza’s visit. What she dreaded most was that she would say something to Matty. It was too risky to leave to chance, so she wrote back agreeing to Eliza’s suggestion, but asking for her promise to say nothing to the girl about her parentage.
On the day of the visit, Matty put on the pretty striped print dress they’d bought at the Old Clo’ market and because it was still chilly, they decided she’d borrow Alice’s best winter coat. Nellie carefully brushed Matty’s long auburn hair till it shone and tied it with a lilac ribbon.
‘Don’t you look pretty!’ Nellie pushed the girl towards the small mirror hanging above the mantelpiece. ‘You’ll have all the boys running after you soon!’
Matty blushed, but looked up shyly at her reflection. Nellie had begun to notice her blossoming. At thirteen she was almost as tall as Charlie now, and her fine bone structure had become more evident. Her flashing eyes were reminiscent of Lizzie’s but, looking at her in the mirror, Nellie was stunned by another unmistakable resemblance: Matty, emerging from childhood to womanhood, had become a reflection of Eliza.
Eliza was to collect Matty early and Nellie was nervously looking out of the front window every few minutes. When a motor taxi rolled up, it caused a stir; motor taxis were an unheard-of luxury in Vauban Street and it was soon surrounded by a crowd of excited children. Nellie quickly dropped the net curtain. Hmm, no tram for Madam Mecklenburgh today, wonder who she’s trying to impress? she commented softly to herself. ‘Come on, Matty, love, looks like you’ll be travelling in style!’ she said out loud.
Matty had never been in a motor taxi and her studied sullenness flickered into excitement at the sight of it outside their front door. Nellie hurried her out in a vain attempt to dodge the stares of several neighbours, who’d come to their doorsteps to see the show. Matty dawdled behind Nellie, her sulkiness returning at the sight of Eliza sitting in the back of the taxi.
‘Who’d she think she is, the queen?’ she muttered.
Nellie groaned, feeling almost sorry for Eliza. She didn’t envy her the day ahead, caught as she was between a grumpy thirteen-year-old and her own desperate desire to make up for her past mistakes.
‘I thought the taxi would save us time!’ Eliza said brightly as Matty clambered into the motor. ‘We’ve got a lot to pack in!’
28
Little Canary
Nellie had been looking out for the taxi’s return all evening and when she heard its motor running outside the house, she dashed to the front door. They’d all been sitting round the table, debating where Eliza had taken Matty and what time they would be back. When she opened the door Nellie was surprised to see the taxi disappearing down Vauban Street and Matty already standing on the doorstep, a bag in her hand and a large flat box under her arm.
‘Didn’t you think to ask her in?’ Nellie was annoyed that Matty had let Eliza go off before Nellie could
find out what her plans were for the rest of the week. If there were to be more outings, she needed to know. She was also desperate to find out if Eliza had kept her promise to say nothing to Matty.
‘She didn’t want to come in.’ The girl walked past her into the kitchen and almost immediately Nellie heard Charlie berating Matty.
‘You should’ve told her to stick her presents up her—’
‘Charlie!’
‘Sorry, Nellie, but Mum always used to tell us you can’t buy people and that’s what Eliza’s doing!’
The flat parcel was lying unopened on the kitchen table, surrounded by several huge bars of Nestlé’s chocolate. Matty normally had a quick answer for anything her brother threw at her, but now she merely looked at him miserably and said, ‘She’s not all bad, she just said she wanted to give the rest of the family something nice.’ She shot her brother a scathing look. ‘You’re the one who’s always scoffing sweet things!’
‘Come on, love.’ Nellie drew Matty away. ‘Bring your parcel up to our room to open.’
When they were alone she asked her about the day.
‘We went over the other side shopping – she was all excited about getting me a new dress, she said this one was looking a bit shabby.’ Matty smoothed down the print dress she was wearing. ‘Anyway, it was the same shop Mum used to take me to every year for my new dress – when the club paid out. I don’t know why, but Eliza got ever so upset when I told her.’
Nellie realized now how Lizzie had afforded that yearly dress for Matty: the ‘club paying out’ was no doubt really a money order from Eliza.
‘And that’s what’s in the parcel? Your new dress?’
Matty nodded.
‘Let’s see it, then!’
Matty slowly took off the cardboard lid and drew back the layers of tissue paper. It was a beautifully cut satin dress, in a warm oyster colour, perfect for Matty’s colouring. She held it up out of the box, for Nellie to see how the long sleeves had been caught up in little ruches. The draped skirt was trimmed with burgundy braid and Matty held it against her, to show off the fashionable short length. Nellie could only gasp. ‘Oh, Matty, you’ll look beautiful in that dress!’
