Isabella Rockwell's War (7 page)

“She’s really
hungry, ain’t she, Ruby?” A little girl of no more than five or six
was sitting in Ruby’s lap having finished her food. She was blonde
and pale and small but with a sweetness in her face which made
Isabella want to smile. She had her fingers entwined in Ruby’s
hair.

“She was
hungry, that’s right Lil’, but I think she might be feeling better
now.” Isabella looked down at her empty plate and mug and felt
embarrassed. She had no memory of eating the food. Midge held his
last sausage out to her.

“Do you want
it?” Isabella felt she could eat a hundred more sausages, but
remembering how her father would say a soldier should always be a
little hungry, to keep himself on edge, she shook her head and
smiled for the first time that day.

“No, thank
you, Midge. I’ve taken enough of your food already.”

It was as if
she’d passed some kind of test. Altogether, the children rose up
and shuffled nearer, inundating her with questions.

“What happened
last night with Midge?”

“Did you save
his life?”

“Did you fight
off them Barrow Boys?”

“Why’s your
hair so long?”

“Why do you
speak funny?”

“Where are you
from?”

“Do you want
to see where I sleep, I made me bed meself…?”

Isabella
laughed. There were only five or six of them, but together they
sounded like one hundred.

“I didn’t save
Midge, I didn’t fight the Barrow Boys, maybe I speak funny because
I’m from India and, yes, I’d love to see your bed.” The tiny boy to
whom this last comment was directed, took Isabella by the hand
pulled her over to a muddled heap of blue and red fabric.

“Mine,” he
said with a flourish of a filthy hand.

Isabella
nodded.

“That looks
very comfortable indeed.” The child beamed and bent to retrieve
something else.

Later, having
admired everyone’s bed and meagre stores of possessions, Isabella
sat again with Ruby and Midge and the little girl and another cup
of tea, made sweet from a tin of sugar syrup kept liquid by the
fire. The clear winter light was leaving the sky, though it was
only mid-afternoon so the sooty windows looked less dirty. Isabella
went to the window. Lanterns were winking on in the buildings
across the river. The light was deepening and the brick buildings
facing west suddenly turned crimson as they were drenched with the
blood-red dying rays of sun. She shivered. It was time to leave.
She couldn’t presume on their hospitality anymore.

Shouldering
her bag, she bent to hug Midge.

“Thank you for
the breakfast.”

“You’re not
going are ya?” He said looking crestfallen.

“Yes, I must.
I’ve got to find some shelter before tonight and then tomorrow…
well, tomorrow I’ve got some business to attend to.”

“But you could
stay here!” Midge’s face was pleading as he turned to Ruby.
“Couldn’t she?”

Ruby looked
sad.

“I wish she
could Midge and you know if it were up to me, she would be able to
stay, but you know the rules.”

“But she saved
my life and she’s got nowhere to go! I thought Zachariah always
said we should stick together.”

“I do have
somewhere to go,” she interjected trying to save face, but now Ruby
was speaking.

“You know what
Zachariah will say…”

“What will I
say, exactly?”

Ruby jumped
and then went pink.

“Oh Zachariah,
you scared the living daylights out of me.”

“Hardly
surprising considerin’ all the racket you lot were making… and
who’s this and what’s it doing here?” Isabella felt a finger poke
her sharply on the shoulder from behind and she span, fists up.

“Oh ho! Fancy
yourself a fighter eh?”

The boy in
front of her caught her wrists in his hands and twisted them
downwards so her skin burned.

“Let go of
me!”

Midge jumped
up.

“‘Ere
Zachariah, don’t do that. This is Isabella, she saved my life last
night… Pulled me out of the snow when I’d had a bang on the head.
We just gave her some breakfast… As a thank you.” She felt the
pressure on her wrists lessen. The little blonde girl disentangled
herself from Ruby and threw herself on the new arrival.

“Zachariah,
Zachariah, Zachariah, what did you bring me? I missed you. Look at
my tooth,” and she solemnly opened her mouth as wide as was humanly
possible.

Releasing
Isabella’s hands he lifted Lily high into the sky.

“Not much
today, Little Lil’. Everyone’s too cold and too hungry. Pickings
are sparse. But here,” he tossed a package to Ruby. “I got a few
bits from the butcher’s stall and some bread. Eddie’s gone to see
one of the boys off Painted Lady, see if he’s brought anything
upriver for us. Big ship got in a couple of days ago… from India.
Should be enough leftovers for all of us.”

Midge pulled
on Isabella’s hand.

“Is that the
one you came on?”

Isabella was
watching the new boy warily. If he hadn’t have been holding Lily
she’d have knocked his block off by now. She didn’t answer and the
boy looked at her.

“Just off the
boat eh? Might have known,” he sneered. Isabella judged he was
older than her, only by a year or two and he was starting to grow.
His legs and arms were too long for his clothes, but he wasn’t
thin, his bones had muscle on them and his jaw and neck were
thickening. His hair hung straight and black into his eyes and his
nose was long, but slanted, clearly broken, to one side of his
face, which made him look a bit like a wolf. His grey eyes,
however, were cold. It was a face, which had the appearance of
seeing too many winters and not enough summers.

She picked her
bag up again. This time she was definitely leaving.

“Oh please
don’t go,” Midge was hanging off her arm again.

“What, hang
around until his Lordship can think of something else unpleasant to
say? I don’t think so,” she replied nastily, shaking off Midge’s
hand. Lily was now whispering into Zachariah’s ear and the hard
look left his face.

“Is that so,
Lily-Loo?” He looked at Isabella. “Lily says you know some
tricks.”

“Yeah, so?”
Isabella replied, one foot half out the door.

“We like
tricks around here.” His face was impassive.

Isabella
adjusted her satchel across her body.

“It’s a pity
you’re not going to see any then, isn’t it?” She patted Midge’s
shoulder. “Bye Midge.” The other children were crowding around now
and she ruffled one or two heads. “Good bye and thank you Ruby for
the breakfast.”

Ruby looked at
her and pulled her close.

“Good luck
luvvie and thank you.” But the doorway through the sacks was barred
by the bulk of Zachariah.

Isabella drew
herself up to her full height, very nearly the same as his.

“Excuse me,
please.”

Zachariah
dropped his arm from across the gap and he smiled, at least that’s
what she thought he was doing. His teeth were showing anyway.

“Like I said,
we like tricks. If you show us one that’s any good, I’ll let you
stay one night.” Isabella’s first impulse was to tell him to stuff
himself, she didn’t need his charity, but the sky was now an inky
blue, and the stars pinpricks of ice. The temperature had dropped
and tiny ferns of frost had begun to coat the window outside. One
of the boys Zachariah had returned with was stoking the fire and
the smaller children were moving their bedrolls closer to it.
Another girl seemed to be warming milk in an old pot.

She felt the
fight go out of her.

“Only if
you’re nice to me. I won’t be able to sleep otherwise.”

The corner of
his mouth twitched as Midge started to jump up and down with
excitement.

“Let’s see how
good your tricks are first, shall we?”

She wasn’t so
tired she couldn’t mutter at him under her breath in Hindi.

“Mangy curs
like you should be more grateful.”

Zachariah
didn’t seem to care either way.

Later that
night with a stomach full of warm milk, lying between Midge and
Ruby, Isabella could see the fire’s flicker on the iron roof above
her. Rolling onto her side she watched as Zachariah left his
bedroll next to Lily’s, and put four more logs on the fire before
returning to his bed where he lay on his back, hands beneath his
head. Then she closed her eyes, but not before she saw Zachariah’s
gaze sweep over her. She pulled her father’s satchel closer to her
chest and could fight sleep no more.

Such was the
cold the following morning that Isabella wondered if she could make
her fingers move quickly enough for the trick to be a success.
She’d been ready to leave as soon as she was awake.

“Here,” said
Midge, thrusting a cup of tea into her hand. “Put these on too.”
They were fingerless wool gloves and a thick grey wool sweater and
hat.

“Zachariah
wants us to go to work.”

“What if I
don’t want to go to work,” she sniffed. Who did this boy think he
was?

“He says if
you want to stay another night, you’ve got to take your trick down
the market, see if you can make any money. So come on, we best get
there quick, else all the best pitches will be gone.”

“Why should I
give him anything of mine?”

Midge looked
at her as if she was speaking another language.

“To pay for
your keep of course.”

“What ‘keep?’
I’m not staying.”

Midge’s little
freckled face clouded over. Isabella shrugged crossly. She knew she
shouldn’t have stayed. She had no wish to upset Midge, of whom she
was becoming fonder by the minute.

“Why, where
are you gonna go?”

Where was she
going to go? The thought had barely left her mind for a second
since leaving the Molesey’s and yet she was still no closer to an
answer. Starvation had addled her brain.

“I don’t know.
“ Her voice became quiet and sad. “I want to go home to India, but
I need money for that.” She wasn’t yet ready to tell of the booty
in her bag. That was for emergencies.

Midge took her
hand.

“‘Ere, don’t
look so sad. We can make a plan, but… do you know what it’s like
out there, if you ain’t got a gang behind you?”

Isabella
thought of the starving children she’d seen from the Molesey’s
carriage; felt the aching cold once more, the desolation of the
call of the night-watch to anyone with no home to go to, the empty
vault of the starless sky.

“A little.”
She paused giving a hollow laugh. “In India the priests would
distribute food to the street children, all the better to pave
their way to heaven, I suppose. I haven’t seen much evidence of
that happening here.”

Now it was
Midge’s turn to laugh.

“The church?
Help us? They’d lock us up soon as look at us, and that’s a fate
worse than being alone on the streets.” His face darkened. “I was
in the church poorhouse with me mum. She weren’t like the others in
there. She didn’t drink. She said her prayers. We was only meant to
be in there for a while, waiting for me dad to get back from the
war, but mum took sick. They’re death-traps those places, people
living on top of each other. After she died, me and Ruby ran
away.”

Isabella
nodded.

“I’m so sorry,
Midge.”

He dashed his
sleeve to his eyes.

“S’alright. We
were lucky. We met Zachariah after a couple of months on the
streets, but I wouldn’t like to go through that time again. Ruby
still don’t talk about it.” Isabella looked over to where Ruby was
bouncing one of the smallest children on her knee whilst spooning
porridge into the mouth of another.

“She loves the
little ones. Zachariah made it so she can stay at home with them
and look after them. The rest of us have got to find a way to bring
home something to share, no matter how small. A blanket or
shoelaces or bread, it don’t matter. If we get something big we
share it, the same if it’s small. But if you’re in the gang you’ve
got to bring home something. Which is why you and me’s going to
market.”

Isabella was
intrigued by this apparently organised chaos.

“And
Zachariah?”

But Midge was
done with talking.

“He’s in
charge. He looks after us so we do as he says. He’s fair though, so
that’s ok.”

“Where do all
these children come from?”

“Anywhere and
everywhere, the gutter mostly. For all his talk, Zachariah’s soft
as butter.”

Isabella
nodded remembering him with Lily.

“Is Lily his
sister?”

“Yeah, the
apple of his eye. Gets away with blue murder and all.” Isabella
looked over to where Lily was carefully rubbing soot into the hair
of a child who still slept. She laughed, surprising herself with
the sound. She felt stronger after the food and sleep. She stood up
and held her hand out to Midge.

“Come on then.
Let’s go and see if this trick is as good as I think it is.”

Midge’s face
split into a grin.

They had set
up their crate between a poorly provisioned fruit stall and a
tailor. Midge waited until it was past nine o’clock and the market
was bustling, then had begun.

“Roll up
puhleese, Ladees and Gents to the greatest show in town. From the
Orient, magick the likes of which you’ve never seen…!” Then he
hissed out of the corner of his mouth. “For gawd’s sake take your
hair down or something… try and look the part.”

Isabella
gawped at him momentarily and then pulled her hair from its plait
so it flowed in a nut-brown stream around her shoulders. She
hunched over her crate and sari, muttering and humming words in
Hindi. What she was actually saying was ‘lantern,’ ‘elephant’ and
‘banana,’ but the people passing through looked as if they were
unlikely to know any better.

She waved her
hands and moved the nutmeg shells around, and hummed to herself,
but people just passed by intent on their shopping and getting back
inside, into the warmth.