"I was wondering," said Eliza, quiet as she could, "if perhaps you'd like to know her better?"
He blinked. How could it hurt if she tried out a version of the truth?
"I'll be honest with you. She's got herself mixed up with a fellow in the house, you see. Someone who was promised to me. And so I thought, well, if you--"
"Hey," said Cleves. "What's all the whispering?"
Mr. Tucker was staring at her, blank-eyed, as if she were speaking like a Chinaman.
"I can see I was mistaken. A flirty one like Mary doesn't appeal to all kinds."
Now he reddened up. "A fellow in the house ? On Neville Street?" His head was wagging, surprised-like.
She should stop now. But "Yes, and he's my fellow. I don't foretell a happy ending."
"She's ... in trouble ?" he said. "She ... she doesn't look it, but maybe she is trouble." His face twitched a
180
little, like he was holding a sneeze. "I ... no ... I wouldn't want, well, some fellow's leftovers."
"No, I can see that." Disappointment ached in Eliza's throat. "It's no concern of yours."
"No concern of mine."
He walked her to the stable door, with as dull a face as ever she'd seen. Perhaps he was stupid after all.
181
MARY 1878 Seeks Out Mr. Tucker
We servants went to the Sunday service, same as the family did, always scurrying home to put the luncheon on the table. Lady A. were ever so urgent about having an elegant Sunday luncheon, though the embarrassment of Miss Lucilla living here with her husband elsewhere meant no one were invited except theirselves and Miss Hollow.
Sundays, apart from those minutes in church, were as busy as any other day, but the supper was a light one. I were watching out for a minute to call my own, but it were Eliza who disappeared while Nut and I did the washing up and scoured the pots. I must have spoken to Caden ten times an hour inside my head, from haughty to pleading and back again. I only wanted a chance to say a few words to his face. But all of Monday went grinding by and most of Tuesday with me spitting prayers at Heaven there'd be a reason I'd be sent out.
182
Finally, an hour before supper, Cook sighed. "Find us some fresh cress, will you, Mary? The girl who comes round this way must grow hers on a dung heap." I were out the door before I'd blinked.
The barracks and the street were near empty, where usually they were crowded with soldiers. I made myself go into the stable and found the man Cleves. I inquired could I see Mr. Tucker and he were smirking and uppity, said I should speak to an officer.
"An officer?" I said. "I only want to see Mr. Tucker for a minute."
"Third door from the end," said Cleves.
The interview behind third-door-from-the-end were a short one. It does not take long, after all, for a man to crush a girl's heart to sawdust.
I couldn't remember, after, how I'd explained my quest. His words, though, are chiseled deep in me, said patient-like and slow like I were slow myself.
"I'm sorry, miss. He requested that he be shipped out with the battalion. They departed yesterday for Afghanistan. We've got a column going through the Khyber Pass to Jellalabad."
He were using foreign words but the intent were clear.
"I believe you've been disappointed by your young man ..." Him sniggering, no doubt, behind his mustache, while my hopes tumbled straight through to my boot soles, not pausing in the middle where the cause of it all were churning me up.
183
JAMES 1888 Finds Shelter
The sharp, sweet lemon drop cheered James up. He'd better move more quickly; the rain had hurried dusk. The night and the fog were dancing, each trying to put a foot down first. He'd walk the whole way around the Hospital grounds, keeping a sharp lookout for anyone familiar. If he still hadn't found the chaplain's house, he'd widen the circle, street by street. It couldn't be too far. Miss Byrd managed to walk the distance with a cane!
James ducked from doorway to doorway until he was too wet to care. There were so many streets! And so many people! He arrived back at the Hospital's main gates, gloomy and sodden. But, Coram's knuckles , he saw policemen! Two bobbies were marching up the drive and two more were speaking with the porter, Mr. Travers. Was this because of James? They'd called in the police force?
184
He slipped behind a stall with a painted sign, DUBIE'S WELL-MADE BROOMS. The man shooed him off with one of his meager brushes.
"Hah!" shouted James. "You call these brooms?" As a second-former, he was a broom expert. He'd made much finer! He ducked and tore away as Dubie came thwacking after him.
He watched from a doorway, only steps further along. A small crowd of dark figures clustered at the porter's booth, but it was too dim to see who they were. Behind the gates, the castle of the Hospital loomed, lights twinkling in some windows, but mostly dark. The children were in their beds by seven o'clock and it must be far past that now. When had they missed James? They'd had their supper, they'd washed, been tormented, said their prayers, and climbed into their cots. Walter would be fretting next to the empty bed. Frederick would pretend not to care. He'd likely pretend he'd helped with the escape.
There were men with lanterns assembled at the gate. They were coming to look for him, he knew it. But he hadn't found Mama Peevey yet, so he could not be found himself.
James blinked away his tears. His head was heavier than his neck could bear. He crept into a narrow lane between two houses, all the way to the end. He stamped his feet at the scooting shadows and found the entrance to a cellar, half covered by a brick archway. On his knees, he groped about in the blackness, collecting rags and newspapers that littered the alley. He laid them down across a step and made himself a nest.
185
ELIZA 1878 Mary Cracks
It gave Eliza a nip of pleasure to see Mary blubbering when she come back that day. Had she been to visit one of those women who could flush a baby? And been told a price too high? Or had her new friend Mr. Tucker hurled a few stinging words in her direction, finally armed with the truth?
Nut, the baffled little squirt, kept tugging on Mary's arm, saying, "Miss, why're you crying, miss? Miss!" until Eliza stepped in and gave him a swat. That swat got Mary's notice.
"Do not ever touch him again!" Her finger stabbed at Eliza. She looked half barmy.
"Mary!" Mrs. Wiggins did not tolerate the use of emotions in her kitchen. "Whatever's troubling you, it needs to get packed away. Have you got my cress?"
"No, Mrs. Wiggins," said Mary, calm-like for a moment.
186
"I did not stop for the cress, as my life were ending." With that, she started up the stairs. With a blotched face and hair all thataway!
"Miss!" called Nut. "Where are you going?"
"Hell," she called back. "Straight to hell."
"Whatever has got into her?" Cook was right bewildered.
"I'll tell you," said Eliza, finally bursting out with it. " Bates has got into her. And left something behind, if you take my meaning."
Oh, what a pleasure to say it aloud!
Only not realizing the effect.
"Here!" cried Nut. "Help me!" He had both hands on Mrs. Wiggins, steering her swooning body into a chair.
"That was quick, Nut. Good work." Eliza flapped a tea towel in front of the cook's face.
Mrs. Wiggins blinked and pressed a hand over her heart.
"I'm off," Eliza whispered to Nut. "You stay with her and I'll find Mary."
"Don't you tell any more lies," said Nut. But Eliza was clattering up the stairs and didn't bother to answer. Where did the hussy think she was going, looking half-crazy? Not to their attic room by way of the front stairs, so what was she after? This was utterly ... gripping . The heat of it, the fun , was like a rash on Eliza, racing along her arms and up her neck.
Then, whoa! She skidded to a stop on the second
187
landing. Mary was there, as distraught as she'd been below. But Miss Lucill
a was there too, with Bates carrying in her purchases. They all three looked at Eliza, arriving as she did with a bit of a bump.
"Has this household gone mad?" said Miss Lucilla. "Why are you standing about, Mary? And so ... disarranged ?"
"I've been looking for you, Mrs. Overly. I need to speak to you, private-like."
"Mary," said Bates, gentle and worried.
"For Sebastian's sake," Mary added, ignoring him.
Eliza gaped at Mary's gall. The words of the handbook flew into her mind: Never begin to talk to the mistress unless it is to deliver a message or to ask a necessary question .
Miss Lucilla glance around, blank as usual, seeming disconcerted to have three servants looming, expecting something from her.
But, tugging at her gloves, she rose to the moment. "Mary, take my parcels from Mr. Bates and bring them into my room." She led the way.
Bates placed the packages in Mary's arms as though he were handing over an infant. Eliza let out an exasperated gust of breath.
"Mary." Bates was urgent. "You shouldn't be here."
She grasped the parcels and turned tail, flouncing almost. Eliza reached out to touch Bates's sleeve but he shook her off as if she were Nut.
188
OLIVER 1888 James Is Missing
From the window of his classroom, Oliver could see straight down the drive, over the gates and beyond to the London night. Torches burned, gaslights flickered, occasional braziers glowed, roasting chestnuts or birds on spits. The constellations winking from Heaven were mirrored on the city streets.
Nothing duller than an amateur poet , thought Oliver, turning away from the window, reaching for his hat.
Right away he looked out again, in case that was the instant there might appear a small boy, a smudge slightly darker than the surrounding city. But no. The cluster of men at the gate was still assembling, no sign of a discovery or celebration. He'd better hurry to join them.
He pressed his forehead and fingertips against the
189
window, spectacles clinking as glass met glass. I'm a coward . There came a flare of light below as another torch was lit. A ten-year-old boy is braver than I am, plunging into that hive .
There were many allusions to insects, living in the midst of a city: swarms, hordes, drones, buzzing ... but that wasn't what unnerved Oliver. Every one of the lights out there had been lit by a person, a person from a family, a person with a story, with connections and memories.
Oliver shook himself.
How had James got out, anyway? The why was clear. He'd gone to find his mother. But Mrs. Peevey rested only a few streets away, and James had never arrived.
Where are you, boy?
Which was worse: that James should be missing or that Oliver must step out into the dark street? Oliver hustled to the door. Losing James, of course.
190
MARY 1878 Tells About a Proposal
Wouldn't you know it, Eliza were there to witness my downfall. Bates scowled at me too. So he knows , I thought. Eliza has ruined me .
No, I have ruined myself .
Miss Lucilla directed me to put her packages on the bureau. I returned to pull the door firmly shut. She removed her hat and dropped the pins into the porcelain tray on the vanity. I were shivering in my dismay. She took off her jacket and shook it gently before laying it over the back of a chair.
"Well?" she said.
"Miss."
"You have something to say that concerns my son?"
Oh, I'd mentioned that, hadn't I? Go on!
191
"He's a fine boy," I said. "He's growing up very bonny."
"What is it, then, Mary? I've been shopping on Regent Street for hours. I'm quite worn out."
It were wrong to push. She were never too bright, which had slipped my distressed mind.
"Oh, miss!" Tears at once prickled my eyes.
"For Heaven's sake! What's this? Hardy little Mary?"
I had perhaps a minute before her patience would expire. I gulped for air and confidence.
"I'm in trouble, Miss Lucilla. Terrible trouble, the way you were when we first met, but worse, of course, because I have no home to go to, no waiting mam to rescue me. And I weren't wed, though we planned to, I swear it, and now at any minute I'll be sent away--"
" What are you saying?"
"I'm asking for help, miss. I know I don't deserve it except that I helped you, did I not? I came to Neville Street at your particular request, for Master Sebastian."
She stared at me with eyebrows pinched, still vague on my predicament. Her mind had not fastened to the story as quickly as I would wish.
"Are you saying that you wish to marry your young man?"
"I wish it with all my heart!" Once again I began to cry, to the point my lips were salty. "But he has gone away! And I am left ... I am left"--I could barely whisper--"with child."
She jumped away as if I'd poked her with a needle. "Mary, no!"
192
I tried to muffle foolish sobs with hands against my face, scraping for breath. Finally, "I am applying to you, Miss Lucilla, as a woman who knows how it feels to be ... lost--"
She cut me off. "There is nothing I can do for you." Her reedy voice were as calm as a curtain over a closed window. "You have made the gravest of mistakes. I would not have you under the same roof as my son. Mrs. Wiggins cannot act quickly enough to put you out. To protect us all. Good day."
She couldn't have hurt me worse if she'd struck me. I were lower than a worm's belly, as you can imagine. I got myself out of her room, through an oddly empty kitchen, and down as far as the cellar steps. And there I sat shivering, quite dazed.
The railing were cold, my bum were cold, my feet were cold. Too cold to hold me up. If I tried to stand, I'd tumble down these stairs and break my neck. It'd all be over in one snap. Now, wouldn't that be a perfect solution? But falling down the steps might not be certain enough. With my luck, it'd be a leg or a wrist instead of my neck, and then what? If I were going to toss myself somewhere, the River Thames would be the place. I shivered. It'd be cold. It were full of floating muck that I'd have to swallow first.
Now, if I were considering swallowing something? Poison were easier than drowning, no question. There must be all manner of poisons in the kitchen. I wouldn't
193
want one that bloated me up or turned me blue, though. That were a stopping point, actually. The idea of Eliza--and it would most likely be Eliza ... the idea of her being the one to peel off my dress and my underthings, to lay me out and to handle my body ... and what if she needed help? Would she ask Nut? That would horrify the poor boy.
I had a wee cry thinking of Nut's bony shoulders hunched over my deadness and knew I couldn't do that. Worse would be Bates. Those big sassy hands on me would irk Eliza something awful.
The door above me opened just then, as my mind were blithering. Light spilled down, reminding me how wedged I were on the narrow steps.
"I'm all right, Nut," I said, feeling his shadow, not turning around. "You're not to worry. I'm only having a ... quiet minute."
"We've been looking for you."
I jumped. It were Bates, not Nut, and his voice woke me up like dropping an ice chip down my bodice.
"Oh!" I hustled to my feet. "I were just ..." What excuse could there be for me hiding on the cellar steps?
"Mary," he said. "You're to be out of this house within the hour." He weren't fierce or sarcastic, simply making certain I knew my lot.
I nodded.
"Unless ...," he said.
I were facing him now, two or three steps below him.
194
He were a dark figure looming over me, with the lit kitchen behind.
"Don't you dare, Mr. Bates," I said, grabbing at the railing, suddenly sure he were intent on pushing me down to the very fate I'd just been fancying for myself.
"What?" He reached toward me and I bit his hand as hard as if it were a nutshell.
"Ow! What ar
e you doing, woman?" He jerked his hand out of my mouth, making my teeth clack as I tasted, what was it? Linseed?
"Let me past," I hissed at him, pushing against his belt. I blushed, it being a mortification where my nose would meet his trousers, placed as I were on the stair. He caught my angry fists in his hands, laughing. Laughing! "Clear off, Bates!" I struggled. "Don't you lay a finger on me! No one's got a right--"
"Dammit, Mary, I've been hunting you all over this house. I want to say something before you leave, before you go running away like a--"
There were a note in his voice that I'd not heard before. It were most unexpected, because it sounded like kindness.
"Mary, you're in terrible trouble."
"Ha," I said. "That's not news to me!"
"I can help, you daft girl! Would you just listen?"
"Help? By offing me down the kitchen stairs?"
"By marrying you," he said.
I'd have been less surprised if he'd struck my face. I
195
lost my footing and teetered to one side, heaving against the railing and grateful for his quick arms that caught me up and near carried me into the kitchen and put me in a chair.
He ran a finger along the plate rail by the cellar door and knocked a key to the ground. He winked, and had Mrs. Wiggins's brandy cupboard opened and closed before you could say Mary Finn has lost her sense , holding a bottle and soon tipping it to half-fill a teacup.
"Drink," he said, and I obeyed. He took a quick glug from the bottle itself and put it back where it lived. He pulled up the fire stool and stared into my face, taking a breath and then talking urgent, like there were not a heartbeat to waste.
Folly Page 12
