Inspecting the warehouses was a vital, but exacting occupation: TF needed to be vigilant at all times. Internal combustion of goods was a hazard still, despite the safety rules put in place after the Tooley Street fire. There were many stairs to climb, narrow, dark passages to walk along with a lantern, and TF, who had been so fit after his years in the navy, began to suffer from claustrophobia and breathlessness due to poor ventilation. Added to this, he was still called out for fires when greater manpower was needed. He didn’t confide his anxieties to Emma because she was pregnant again.
Emma and TF had thought their family was complete before they had a second son, Ernest Robert (Ernie). Ernie, TF thought, took after Irish Tom, with red hair and bright blue eyes. He was to grow up to be handsome, lively and charming, but also possess a strong character, and he was very close to his mother in particular.
Soon after Ernie’s birth, when TF was carrying out his inspections in a particularly grim old warehouse, Chas ventured along the endless corridors in order to locate him to tell him that he was needed back at headquarters. He came across his friend slumped unconscious, lips tinged blue, and had to revive him with a nip of brandy from the flask all firemen carried for emergencies.
‘Has this happened before?’ Chas asked anxiously, as TF sat up, still breathing torturously. TF could only nod in reply. Chas helped him to his feet, and steadied him with an arm around his shoulders.
‘Take it easy. I was sent to fetch you to a meeting in the office.’
‘You won’t – say anything?’ TF managed.
‘No – but I think you should.’
‘I can’t – I could lose my job.’
‘Does Emma know?’
TF shook his head. ‘Emma has had so much to bear in the past, I couldn’t bring myself to say, and now she is so happy with her babies . . .’
‘These duties are too much for you on your own. You should request an assistant.’
‘I promise you, I will . . .’
However, when it became apparent that TF was very unwell, he was asked to attend a medical examination arranged by the Committee of the LSC.
April 1874
TF’s health was deteriorating fast and after further tests, they discovered he had valvular heart disease. Emma again sought the advice of the Evelina nurses. When the symptoms were described to her, of fatigue, shortness of breath, swollen feet and ankles, she realised that TF suffered all these. The erratic heartbeat was the only thing she had missed. She was advised to conceal her worries from her husband and to support him as best she could. ‘You must be strong for him, and your family, Emma.’ She vowed to herself that she would follow this advice, whatever the future held.
The LFEE committee expressed their sympathy and suggested he take a break from work for a month, which they would help to fund.
On hearing the news William wrote back by return of post: Come here! Us have plenty of room for you all now. The letter ended with his usual words, All will be well, may God bless you, love from Will and Sarah.
*
Chas made the travelling arrangements and accompanied them to the station. He saw them settled into their compartment with their luggage. ‘I hope to see Jerusha this weekend,’ he mentioned.
‘Tell her,’ Emma said impulsively, ‘to give you an answer, yes or no – time is precious, Chas—’
‘I know, I know . . . You’re right, Emma.’ He smiled to show he was not offended.
TF sat quietly by the window, looking grey and drawn. The walk along the platform had left him breathless, with a pain in his chest. Five-year-old Tommy sat by his father. He was a serious boy, old for his years, his parents thought.
Emma sat opposite, holding on to Ernie, now an active toddler. Immi, eight, was in charge of her little sister Alice, who at three needed persuasion to sit quietly.
Alice said in her carrying voice, ‘I has wet my drawers!’
‘Shush!’ Immi whispered, seeing the expression on the face of the other occupant of the carriage, an elderly woman, who’d looked disapproving when the children clambered onto their seats. ‘You are not to worry Mother,’ Immi added. ‘Sit tight.’ She gave Alice a sweet to suck.
Emma was uncomfortably aware that Ernie too needed a change, in his case a fresh napkin. She had come prepared with damp flannels, a small towel in a bag, but had hoped to only use these for washing hands and faces after they had eaten their packed lunches. She would have to wait to see to the baby when their travelling companion alighted further up the line. They were facing a three-and-a-half-hour journey via Ipswich to Norwich. She was glad when TF opened the carriage window for fresh air. You couldn’t blame the children, she thought, they were over-excited at their first train journey. So am I, she realised. My first holiday since Brighton, and I’m actually going back to Wymondham!
*
It was late afternoon when they arrived at Norwich and there was William, waiting on the platform for the train to stop in a cloud of smoke, with a wicker bath chair for TF, along with a porter and his trolley to convey their luggage to the wagon outside, where they would be reunited with Sarah.
‘Here you all are, then!’ William hugged them in turn. He looked older, Emma realised with a start, with greying hair and beard, but prosperous too, wearing smart clothes and a stove pipe hat, not a cap. ‘It be good to meet you at last,’ he said to TF, offering a strong arm to assist him into the chair. ‘There you are, my boy – will you tek the babe on your lap?’ He lifted Alice on to his broad shoulder, and Immi blushed, thinking of the damp drawers. Emma pushed the chair, with Tommy beside her, while Immi held on tight to her brother’s hand. ‘Not far,’ William assured them. ‘See, there’s your Aunt Sarah awavin’ from the wagon!’
Emma thought, he called Tom, ‘my boy’, Emma thought. that’s a real Norfolk compliment!
There were bales of straw in the back of the smart wagon and these had been covered with sheeting to make less prickly seating. The chair was lifted on with TF still seated in it and the baby handed to Emma. There was a canvas cover overhead and two smart horses out front. They were quite overawed. The lettering on the wagon sides was impressive too: William Wright & Sons.
Sarah joined the family in the back. ‘Yes, dear Will hev his own business with our two eldest sons. He be the proud owner of two of the latest steam threshing machines! He do hire them out to the local farmers. The lads do the driving. The hard times is past, I’m glad to say.’ She looked with concern at TF. ‘Us will do all we can to see you git well. There is a room ready downstairs for you, Emma and the little ones. Tommy and Immi can share a room upstairs, eh?’
‘You are so kind,’ TF said gratefully. ‘Thank you for making us so welcome.’
William and Sarah had a much larger house, with outbuildings including a forge and a barn where machinery was kept. Here a sign proclaimed William Wright, Engineer, Blacksmith & Threshing Machine Owner.
‘Your dreams came true!’ Emma cried. ‘How wonderful!’
Sarah nodded. ‘We pulled together. I worked in the village shop, and now we own that too!’ She ushered them inside. ‘This is your room. Maybe you would like to rest before the meal, Tom?’
‘Ten minutes will do. Someone has cooked a splendid dinner, judging by the aroma!’
‘Talking of aromas: Ernie and Alice need a change of underwear first,’ Emma said ruefully.
They went through into the dining room, where they were greeted by Jane, as her mother placed the joint of beef on the long table, which Emma was delighted to see was the one from the farmhouse. She noted that Jane was obviously expecting again, ‘Oh Jane, you were a little girl like Immi when I saw you last! I hear Will has a grandson named after him?’
‘That he hev,’ Jane said shyly. ‘He be hiding under the table!’ The tablecloth shifted and a little boy crawled out and clung to his mother’s skirts.
Sarah put in, ‘Jane takes after you for cooking, Emma! And Immi looks like you, when you were her age!’
‘Wait till you see the lads,’ William said proudly. ‘My older sons are taller than me and young Jeremiah, well, he’s fifteen and still at school.’ The family hoped it would be Jeremiah who’d return to the family farm one day.
*
The month in Wymondham passed all too quickly and the improvement in TF’s health was encouraging. Emma was able to introduce him to her youngest sister Rebecca and her brother Jonathan, who visited soon after their arrival. Rebecca had recently wed Richard, a friend of Jonathan’s from Wymondham. He was a station porter and like Keturah and Harry when they lived in Yarmouth, they took in lodgers to boost their income. Rebecca confided to Emma that she missed Keturah now she had moved away. ‘I cried for her when she lost her little son, as I know you must have done, too, but have just heard that the dear girl is now expecting another baby. When her time is near she will stay with her friend Liza in Newbottle. She’ll look after her.’ Then she smiled, and Emma exclaimed, ‘Oh, you are still Rebecca as I have always remembered you – you were such a happy child! You always kept the family spirits up.’
Jonathan had served his apprenticeship as a boot and shoemaker in Wymondham and married his boss’s daughter when he was in his early twenties. Not long before Emma and her family visited Wymondham, the older man retired through ill health and moved away, while Jonathan took over the business. His wife had gone to help her mother with her ailing father, taking their eldest daughter with her. This left Jonathan as a single parent to their three younger children, there being just three years between them. He had abiding memories of his time at Wicklewood and the night terrors his younger brother had suffered there, when Joseph used to creep out of his bed to be comforted by the boy whose name had been changed to Ebenezer.
William confided to Emma that he considered Jonathan as another son, and worried about what would happen in the future. ‘He say he think of me as his dad, and I wish I could have spared him and his little brother their time in the workhouse. They were there longer than the gals, poor lads.’
‘You did all you could,’ Emma said, seeing a tear in his eye.
‘He say he wish he was called William after me, but some folk still refer to him as Ebenezer. He hev a troubled soul and us must not judge his wife for going away. She was so young when she married and the babes come so quick. Us cannot take sides. He be a good father to his children, but little Ellie do miss her mother.’
When Emma and TF were nearing the end of their stay, the family had good news. Keturah and Harry had had another little son, named Herbert. William said, as he always did at both joyful and sad times, ‘All is well.’ And this time, it was.
While they were there, the children walked with their mother to Wymondham Abbey and placed flowers on the family graves. Emma introduced her family to the Reverend Eden and they all were invited to visit the vicarage where his wife was eager to see her too. The youngsters also loved calling in at Sarah’s shop, which sold everything for a rural community, from mousetraps and mothballs to hand-carved bacon and haberdashery. Of course, the main attraction was a row of glass jars full of boiled sweets, which Sarah poured into the pan on the brass scales, then into deftly fashioned poke bags. Outside the shop hung tin baths and pails, baskets of crockery in straw and bags of kindling. ‘If you ask for it, ’tis likely us hev it,’ said Sarah, cutting a length of rope for Immi and Tommy to use in turn to skip back home. Alice threw a tantrum and had to be allowed a try as well.
Out in the garden there was the delight of the currant bushes, long established, with their strings of glistening red and black berries and the more elusive white ones, which looked like tiny pearls. They were protected by old net curtains but that didn’t prevent the small birds from pecking their share. ‘All God’s creatures,’ Sarah observed with a wry smile. Sarah made red currant jelly for them to spread on teatime bread and butter, and of course they sampled many of the tiny currants, relishing their sharp taste on the tongue. William fixed up a swing and a plank of wood fastened to two tree stumps for ‘Seesaw Marjory Daw’. They hunted butterflies with home-made nets, watched caterpillars nibbling leaves and saw rabbits in the vegetable patch. TF sat out in the garden, resting in the shade of a sycamore tree, watching his children at play. He was feeling the benefit of the fresh air and being more involved with his family.
TWENTY
It was a family holiday they would never forget, and after all the sunshine and fresh air, the family returned to Southwark Bridge Road and an uncertain future. But at least there was one piece of good news, as Chas and Jerusha were at last engaged! Chas made the announcement in the cab on the way home.
‘I told her what you’d said, Emma, and she said she’d been thinking along the same lines, especially since she’d learned her family were moving away from Sydenham, so she’d marry me! Then she kissed me – in front of the children in the nursery and their mother came in to find out why they were all jumping about and excited. Jerusha told her there and then that she’d help find her replacement and train her if necessary.’
But the good times couldn’t last . . . TF’s sterling service with the LSC was about to end. His employers were both sympathetic and realistic. TF resumed his wharf inspections but was not allowed to attend fires. He continued these duties for the next six months, but in November 1874 it became obvious that things would have to change. The family were no longer entitled to live on the station, as the accommodation was specifically for officers who were available for service at fires.
In view of his past exemplary service TF was given a grant to find accommodation for his family elsewhere. But despite the support of the Committee, this was a serious set-back for TF and Emma. They would have to move from the place they had called home for eight years.
‘How can we manage without the usual allowances?’ Emma worried. She was also aware that TF’s health was deteriorating, and that he often needed the assistance of the loyal Chas to cover for him when he was struggling to carry on with his duties. This could not continue for much longer.
Sacrifices would need to be made, she realised. She would have to part with her maid, as the cutbacks would need to include her wages, and she would have to leave the smaller children with Immi while she was out searching for somewhere to live. This was proving almost impossible: there were places within the budget, but not suitable for a family and in the wrong areas, reminding her of Marylebone Passage, and past traumas.
A month later, came the bad news that TF and Emma had been dreading. The surgeon said that the disease had increased, and that he could not recommend TF continuing his duties. Chas replaced TF as Inspector of Wharves and, at last, stepped out of the shadow of his great friend. The appointment was well deserved.
Emma was aware that she would have to take charge of family affairs from now on. She was determined to save her husband from further worries, and to be cheerful for his and the children’s sake. She came to a quick decision. ‘You were so much better in Wymondham, Tom. We won’t wait until March but will move there now.’
‘We can’t impose on William and Sarah. Where will we live?’
‘Will told me they recently bought their old cottage, where they started their married life. He has been tidying it up – and he suggests we might like to go there. It’s nothing like this place – it has poky rooms I recall, but oh, Tom, just to be near family would be such a comfort – what do you think?’
‘I think,’ he said after a long moment, ‘I have the most wonderful wife in the world, and I would follow her to the ends of the earth. When can we go?’
‘Immi and I will start packing right away,’ she said.
*
Will and Sarah, with help from their family, had transformed the old cottage. The walls and ceilings within were freshly whitewashed, the old range in the kitchen cleaned and black-leaded, new curtains hung at the sparkling clean windows, and with a little manoeuvring, their furniture, delivered the day they arrived, was fitted in place. A daybed provided by William and Sarah was placed
by the living room window, giving TF a view across the garden. Sarah had made a pretty cover for it, with matching feather-filled cushions, so it could double as a family sofa. Jeremiah offered to pump up the day’s supply of water before he went to school each morning, and his brothers set to clearing the overgrown garden and promised to maintain the privy.
There were only two bedrooms and TF insisted that for the moment he could manage the stairs with support from Emma or Immi. The second room was shared by Immi and Alice, who had young Ernie in with them, while Tommy swung up a rope ladder into his bed in the loft. ‘Climbing the top rigging, Tommy, eh?’ TF joked. Emma smiled, too. She thought, Wymondham is working its magic already!
That first night, as they settled down in bed, watching the firelight flickering on the walls, TF said suddenly, ‘Emma – when we are just on the pension, how will we manage? Your family have been so kind, but we can’t stay here and pay no rent. I expect they intended to let the cottage before they offered it to us, didn’t they?’
‘Shush, don’t worry about that. I have an idea. I always wanted to be a nurse when I was younger, and now could be the right time for me to train as a local midwife. Immi could look after the children when I’m called out – she’s a good cook and very capable. Tommy is a responsible lad and will help when he is not at school. You could see that Immi keeps up her studies too. I’m sure it will all work well. It is important that you rest, keep cheerful and, well, be here for us.’
He gave a long drawn-out sigh. Then he held her close. ‘Dear Emma, what would we do without you?’
She was wakeful a long time after he had fallen asleep. There was much to mull over. The doctor was calling in the morning to assess TF’s condition – his swollen legs were a worry. Also Reverend Eden had promised to visit shortly. She disengaged herself gently from TF’s arms. If she could bring herself to ask the doctor, she must find out if normal married relations were possible, though she would not wish for an unexpected pregnancy in these circumstances.
The Forget-Me-Not Girl Page 17
