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Authors: Dilly Court

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BOOK: A Mother's Courage
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'Excuse me, ma'am. But where is Fanny?'

'Fanny who?'

The woman shoved her weight against the
door, but Eloise was not going to give in so easily
even though the bones in her foot were being
painfully crushed. 'Fanny Higgins. This is her
house.'

'Not any more it ain't. Get your bleeding foot
out of me door or I'll break every bone in it.'

Joss was crying with fright and that had started
Beth off as well. Eloise was in too much pain to
argue and she withdrew her foot. The door
slammed shut. She stared at it in disbelief. How
could things have changed in such a short time?
When she had left here in January, the Higgins
family had had no thought of moving house.
Now there was a complete stranger living in
their home. Eloise went to the house next door
where old Ma Johnson lived with her two
strapping sons, who were employed by the
Gaslight and Coke Company.

Ma Johnson opened the door just a crack.
'Who's there?'

'It's me, Mrs Johnson. Eloise Cribb from
number sixteen.'

'The snooty bitch moved away in January,' Ma
Johnson muttered, squinting myopically at her.

Eloise ignored the insult. It was well known in
the street that Ma Johnson was a bit doolally tap.
Eloise attempted a smile. 'I've come back, Mrs
Johnson. I was looking for Fanny Higgins, but it
seems that there is someone else living there
now.'

'That's right. She's not there any more. Don't
waste my time, whoever you are.'

'Please don't shut the door. It's Eloise; you
remember me. Please tell me where Fanny has
gone and why she moved away.'

Ma Johnson opened the door a little wider.
'You won't find Fanny here, nor her nippers. Her
old man got hisself killed on the railway; fell
under a train, the silly bleeder. She's gone to the
workhouse – they've all gone there. You won't
see them again, and that's for sure. There's only
one way out of that place – feet first.' With a shrill
cackle of laughter, Ma Johnson slammed the
door in Eloise's face.

Eloise stared blankly at the battered door
panels and the iron doorknocker hanging by a
single screw. She could hardly believe her own
ears. Poor Fanny, who had been her staunch
friend and ally through the difficult times, and
now she was incarcerated in that terrible place,
the mere mention of which cast terror into
people's hearts. Eloise shuddered. She had not
anticipated anything like this, and now she was
completely at a loss. She looked round desperately,
and was wondering what to do next
when she saw one of Ma Johnson's sons strolling
down the street towards her. She had always
kept well away from Abe and Isaac Johnson,
who shared the reputation of drinking too much
on a Saturday night and getting into brawls. She
attempted to pick up her luggage, but Joss
hampered her every movement and the cases
were heavy.

'Hold on a moment, ducks.'

Eloise had no alternative but to stay where she
was. She was not sure whether it was Abe or
Isaac who had quickened his pace and was
advancing on her. She half expected him to rant
at her for disturbing his mother, but as he drew
nearer she saw to her relief that he looked more
concerned than angry. 'Hello, Abe.'

He dragged off his cap, grinning. 'It's Isaac,
Mrs Cribb. I thought as how you'd moved away
from here.'

'I came to see Mrs Higgins, but your mother
told me that she's gone to the workhouse.'

'The old girl's got it right for once, although
most of the time you can't believe a word she
says.'

Beth was howling with all her might now,
almost deafening Eloise as she bent down to
comfort Joss, who was also getting beside himself
with hunger and exhaustion. Her mind had
gone completely blank and she could think only
of her two sobbing children. All she knew was
that she must find them shelter for the night and
a hot meal. She cast a wary glance at Isaac who
was watching her with interest. 'Mr Johnson,
Isaac, I have just returned from the north and I
need to find somewhere to stay. Do you know
where I can find a respectable lodging house that
is not too far from here?'

'I know a place. I'll take you there.'

'That's very kind of you.'

'It's no trouble. The little fellah looks done in
and you do too, if you don't mind my saying so.'
Isaac scooped Joss up from the ground and set
him on his shoulders. 'There, young 'un. Now
you're bigger than me, so you can stop piping
your eye and enjoy the ride.' With a cheery wink
at Eloise, Isaac picked up the two pieces of
luggage and set off down the street.

Eloise had no alternative but to follow him
through the busy streets. Isaac strode on with
Joss bouncing on his shoulders and gurgling
with laughter, all his woes forgotten as he
enjoyed this new experience. When at last Isaac
came to a halt in Nile Street, it was outside a
four-storey house in the middle of a late
eighteenth-century terrace. Eloise stared up at
the soot-encrusted brick façade, which might
once have housed a prosperous merchant and
his family, but was now looking decidedly
shabby and run down. There were several pubs
in the street which were quiet at this time of day,
but, Eloise thought, would probably prove to be
quite rowdy late at night. Dotted amongst them
were a few small shops with dilapidated signs
hanging above their doors and flies buzzing
angrily on the insides of their grimy windows.
Eloise was struck by the stark contrast between
the Danbys' homely farmhouse and this grey
forbidding place which looked more like a
prison than a welcoming refuge. It was just
temporary, she told herself as Isaac rapped on
the front door. Tomorrow she would find them
somewhere to stay in a more salubrious area.
Isaac thumped the knocker again, and after a few
moments the door was opened by a tiny maidservant.
A white mobcap came so low over her
eyebrows that she had to tilt her head back to
look up at him, and the print dress she was
wearing was several sizes too large for her so
that it swamped her small frame. Eloise was
almost too tired and distraught to care, but she
could see that the girl was probably no more than
nine or ten years of age.

'Hello, Annie,' Isaac said, patting her on the
head. 'How's my best girl?'

'Leave off, mister,' Annie said, poking out her
tongue in response. 'What d'you want?'

'I've brought some new tenants. This lady and
her children need a room for the night.'

'This ain't no hotel,' Annie retorted, standing
arms akimbo. 'You brung her to the wrong place,
cully.'

Isaac's smile was replaced by an ominous
scowl. 'That's enough of your sauce, girl. You
can let us in for a start and then I want you to
fetch Mrs King, d'you hear me?'

Annie took several steps backwards and her
pinched features assumed the look of a whipped
cur. 'All right, all right. Keep your hair on,
mister.' She turned and ran down a long and
narrow passageway, calling out for her mistress.

'Step inside,' Isaac said, motioning Eloise to
enter the hallway. 'This ain't Buckingham
Palace, but Queenie runs a respectable house and
it's clean.'

Momentarily forgetting her misgivings, Eloise
stared at him in disbelief. 'Queenie King?'

Isaac nodded his head and chuckled deep in
his throat. 'Aye, that's the nub of it. Good name,
ain't it? And you'll find she's a queen amongst
women, as long as you keep on the right side of
her.' At the sound of approaching footsteps,
Isaac set Joss down on the ground and he hid
behind his mother as a large woman bore down
on them like a brigantine in full sail. She was
tightly corseted and her ample bosom was hung
with gold chains and glass beads which clanked
together with every step she took in her high heeled
boots. She ignored Eloise but she smiled
coquettishly at Isaac. 'Well, now. Isaac, me old
cock sparrow, where've you been hiding these
past few weeks?'

He moved forward swiftly to grab her round
the waist and Eloise could not help noticing that
his arms only just stretched round Queenie's
great girth in spite of her corsets. He planted a
smacking kiss on her cherry-red lips, which
Eloise suspected were rouged; as were Queenie's
cheeks which were unnaturally rosy for a
woman of advancing years. It occurred to her
inconsequentially that Papa would have been
quite censorious about a woman who painted
her face and wore a gown cut low enough to
leave very little to the imagination. Eloise put the
vision of her father's shocked face out of her
mind. What did it matter, after all? She was just
here to lodge for a night or two until she found
suitable rooms to rent. She managed a smile as
Queenie extricated herself from Isaac's arms and
surged towards her with a questioning look on
her face. 'So, you are a friend of Isaac's, are you,
lady?'

Eloise shook her head. 'No, Mrs King, not
really. We were neighbours in Myrtle Street and
Isaac, I mean Mr Johnson, offered to help me find
lodgings.'

Queenie shot Isaac a knowing glance. 'I'm sure
he did. Well, as it happens you're in luck, my
dear. I have a good room at the back of the house,
which was vacated today by a commercial
traveller – reluctantly, I may say. My rooms are
much in demand, Miss – er – Mrs . . .?'

'Mrs Cribb,' Eloise said with a proud tilt of her
head. 'I am a widow, ma'am.'

'Are you indeed? Well, Mrs Cribb, dear, you
follow me, and you, Isaac Johnson, can go to my
parlour where we will renew our acquaintance
over a glass of blue ruin.' She flashed him a smile
and then set off down the passage towards the
back of the house.

Eloise held her hand out to Isaac. 'Thank you
very much, Mr Johnson. I'm truly grateful for
your help.'

He dragged his cap off his head with a bashful
smile. 'It weren't nothing, ma'am. Glad to be of
help. Goodbye, young Joss. Be a good boy for
your ma.'

Joss plugged his thumb in his mouth and
reached up to grasp his mother's hand. With a
last grateful smile in Isaac's direction, Eloise
lifted Beth to a more comfortable position on her
hip and she hurried after Queenie.

'There!' Queenie said, throwing a door open
with the air of a conjuror pulling a bunch of
paper flowers from his coat sleeve. 'Now don't
tell me this ain't the best room you've ever seen.
I pride myself in keeping a clean house, so no
muddy boots allowed.' Queenie eyed Joss
severely and he buried his face in his mother's
skirts. Eloise entered the room, wrinkling her
nose at the smell of boiled fish that was wafting
in through the open window. Queenie hurried
past her to slam the sash down. 'The kitchen's
below, but you'll get used to the smell of cooking.
Friday is always fish for supper, not that I'm
one of them Jesuits but all denominations are
welcome here. I do me best to make everyone
feel at home. Will you be taking supper tonight,
Mrs Cribb?'

Eloise did not much fancy boiled fish, but she
had not eaten since midday when she and Joss
had shared a hunk of bread, freshly made that
morning by Gladys, and a slice of cheese from
the farm's own dairy. She felt suddenly quite
homesick for Danby Farm.

'Supper is extra, of course,' Queenie continued
without waiting for a reply. 'But you won't get
better food in Shoreditch, I can promise you that.'

'Thank you, I will take supper, and breakfast
too, if that's possible.'

'Breakfast is served in the dining parlour at
eight o'clock on the dot, and supper is at seven.
Those who don't sit down on time go without. I
have to have rules, Mrs Cribb.'

'Yes, I'm sure.' A wave of tiredness swept over
Eloise, but Joss seemed to have found his second
wind and he clambered onto the iron bedstead
and began rolling around on the coverlet.

'Not with his shoes on, if you please,' Queenie
said, frowning. 'I don't hold with nippers running
riot, Mrs Cribb. I hope you will keep the
young rascal under control.'

'Of course,' Eloise said, setting Beth down on
the bed and shaking her head at Joss. 'Don't
bounce on the bed, dear. You know Mama
doesn't allow it at home.'

Queenie nodded her head. 'Quite right. A firm
hand is what is needed from the start. There's
just one thing before I leave you to settle in,
ma'am. Money!' Queenie held out her hand. 'I
charge three shillings a night and that includes
breakfast, but supper is extra. However, I'm a
generous woman and I won't charge you for the
nippers, but you'll have to buy their milk from
the dairy on the corner. I don't usually take in
children, but I'm making an exception as you're
a friend of Isaac's. Money in advance if you
please, and an extra shilling for supper. Only the
best food is served in my dining parlour.'

Eloise took out her purse and counted out
four shilling pieces, but Queenie raised her
eyebrows and extended her plump hand a little
further in a gesture suggesting that this was not
enough. 'You'll be staying more than the one
night, I suppose. Cash strictly in advance, Mrs
Cribb.'

'Two nights at the most, ma'am,' Eloise said,
counting out another four coins. 'I'm obliged to
you.'

'I'll have your luggage brought to you. And the
privy is in the yard at the back of the house. We
have the usual conveniences, and the girl will
bring you warm water for washing in the
morning. I run this establishment like a high class
hotel, as I am sure you will soon see.'

Just as Queenie was about to leave the room,
Eloise called her back. 'Do you think we could
have coal for the fire, ma'am? It still gets a bit
chilly at night and my children have only
recently recovered from an illness.'

Queenie's pencilled brows shot high up into
her coiffed head. 'Nothing catching, I hope?'

'Nothing to worry about, Mrs King.'

'Fires lit in the rooms from October to the end
of April only. I cannot make exceptions, Mrs
Cribb, or all my lodgers would want the same.'
Queenie swept out of the room, closing the door
behind her.

BOOK: A Mother's Courage
13.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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