A Mother's Courage (22 page)

Eloise sprang to her feet. 'I would rather die. If
you touch me again, I'll kill you.'

The sound of his laughter followed her as she
tore from the bedroom, and it echoed through
the empty house, mocking her as she fled to her
own room and barricaded herself inside. She
collapsed back onto the bed, shivering violently
and stifling the sobs that racked her whole body.
No man had ever treated her in such a way. Her
whole body was sore and her arms were covered
in bruises. Her left eye felt swollen and she could
taste the blood from her split lip. She lay in the
dark, huddled up on top of the bed, staring into
the blackness all round her. The only comfort she
had was the soft sounds that Joss and Beth made
in their sleep. She longed to take them up in her
arms and hold them to her bosom, but she
resisted the temptation. She must allow them to
sleep and she must clear her mind; forget the
pain and humiliation of this evening's events,
and she must face the fact that the only course
left open to her was to leave this dreadful house
tonight. The crime-ridden streets of East London
held less terror for her than staying here at the
mercy of a man like Ephraim Hubble. As the fog
of pain and despair cleared from her mind, she
realised that it would be only a matter of time
before Pike, the private investigator, discovered
her whereabouts. If he continued to watch
Annie's movements, it was inevitable that she
would eventually lead him once again to
Clerkenwell Green and then all would be lost.
The Cribbs would invoke the power of the law
and her children would be made wards of court
and taken from her. Eloise knew that she had no
choice. She must wait until everyone in the house
was asleep, and then she would take the children
and escape from the purgatory into which she
had been flung.

When her limbs had stopped shaking and she
could cry no more, she climbed stiffly off the bed
and lit a candle. She would have to make a swift
getaway and she must travel light. With the
utmost reluctance, she abandoned the suitcase
containing her good clothes, and she packed just
a few necessities for the children and herself in
her valise. There was one thing, however, that
she was not going to leave behind and that was
her writing case. During the past few months her
lifeline had been writing to her mother, even if it
was only a few lines every day. In the last letter
which she had posted just before she left
Yorkshire, she had asked Mama to send any
future correspondence to the Missionary Society
in London. There might even be letters there
now, awaiting collection. The thought shone like
a candle in the darkness of Eloise's deep despair.
She had no idea where she would go when she
left Clerkenwell Green, or how she would live
with just a few shillings left in her purse, but
leave she must and soon, before her resolve
wavered.

When she had finished packing, Eloise felt
strangely calm. She sat on the edge of her bed
straining her ears for sounds of Agnes and Mrs
Jarvis returning from the pub. All her thoughts
now were focused on escape, and she was oblivious
to the physical pain caused by Ephraim's
brutal attack. At last she heard the front door
open and close and the sound of muffled,
drunken voices as Agnes and Mrs Jarvis said
goodnight to each other. The stairs creaked
beneath their weight as they made their way to
their rooms and then there was silence. There
had been no sound at all from Ephraim, although
she had half expected him to follow her downstairs
and repeat his demand for a freshly cooked
meal, or worse. But he had not made any attempt
to follow her and for that she was supremely
grateful. Perhaps he had fallen asleep after his
exertions? She hoped his dreams were anything
but sweet. Just thinking about him made Eloise
shudder and she sipped a glass of water in an
attempt to wash the bitter taste from her mouth.

She waited, trembling with nervous tension,
until she heard the clock on the church tower
strike midnight, and then she roused Joss first
and dressed him in his outdoor clothes. His head
was heavy against her shoulder as he sat on her
lap, still half asleep. She kissed the nape of his
neck and breathed in the scent of his curly hair.
'My poor baby,' she whispered. 'No one will ever
take you from me, I promise.' She laid him down
on the bed while she attended to Beth who
awakened with a drowsy smile and fell asleep
again as soon as Eloise finished dressing her. At
nine months, Beth was no longer the tiny baby
she had been when Eloise first travelled to
Yorkshire, and she hitched the sleepy infant over
her shoulder. If only she had been able to keep
the perambulator or the little cart that Ted had
made for the children, but she had neither, and,
smothering a sigh, Eloise picked up her valise.
She told Joss in whispers that they were playing
a game and he must hold tight to the handle of
the case and not let go. They were going out into
the darkness for a big adventure.

As she stepped outside into the chill of the
night, Eloise was not so certain about the greatness
of their adventure. She was frankly terrified,
and if the alternative had not been so dire, she
would have gone back into the house and hidden
away until morning. Bats were zooming crazily
above the dark silhouettes of the trees and
somewhere in the distance a dog howled. There
was unseen menace in the deep shadows, but the
soft saffron glow of the gaslights pooled on
the cobblestones forming little islands of light
in the darkness. There were more people about
than Eloise had expected there to be this late at
night, but they seemed to be mainly stragglers
making their way back home from the various
pubs, or street women on the lookout for a likely
punter.

Dew was already forming on the grass and the
air was damp and heavy with the lingering smell
of soot and chimney smoke. Eloise had to temper
her desire to get as far away as possible with the
need to find shelter. The only place she could
think of where they might spend the rest of the
night unnoticed was a busy railway station.
King's Cross seemed to be the nearest, and she
remembered that there was a ladies only waiting
room in the station concourse. It was a long walk,
but there was little traffic in Farringdon Road,
apart from the odd hansom cab and a few private
carriages with tired coachmen huddled beneath
their caped greatcoats. The grey buildings that
housed banks and businesses were closed and
shuttered, and Eloise knew that the financial
heart of the City would lie dormant until morning,
when the cleaners would bustle into the
offices to do their work before the clerical staff
arrived to begin the day's trading. The only
people she saw were unfortunates sleeping
rough in doorways. There but for the grace of
God, she thought, hurrying past them with Joss
dragging his heels.

'Want to go to bed, Mama,' he whimpered.

'I know, darling. It's not too far now,' Eloise
said with as much conviction as she could
muster. They had just passed a small family
huddled beneath the portico of a merchant bank.
The mother was heavily pregnant and she had an
infant cuddled in her arms and another child
wrapped in her tattered shawl. They were all
incredibly dirty, with matted hair and running
sores on their hands and faces. The woman's
bare feet protruded from the frayed hemline of
her skirt, and they were calloused and bleeding,
as if the poor soul had walked for many miles
before she collapsed from sheer exhaustion. For
a moment Eloise thought she was seeing a vision
of herself in the future and she shuddered,
ignoring Joss's feeble protests and quickening
her pace.

It was half past one in the morning when she
trudged into King's Cross station. Somehow she
had managed to get Joss onto her back and his
small arms were clamped around her neck in a
stranglehold. The fingers of her left hand were
curled into what felt like a permanent claw
around the handle of the valise, and she had lost
all feeling in the arm in which she carried Beth.
The station was deserted, except for a few
porters loading the mail train. The huge iron
engine belched clouds of steam as it waited like a
restless metal beast eager to thunder off along
the tracks to its distant destinations. In eerie
silence, engines and rolling stock stood alongside
platforms like sleeping giants. There was a
stale smell in the air and a cold wind hurtled
along the platform, almost whipping Eloise's
bonnet off her head. She made for the ladies only
waiting room and to her dismay she discovered
that it was locked. She stood mutely staring at
the door. It had not occurred to her that she
might not be able to gain access, and tears of
exhaustion trickled from her eyes.

She was barely aware of the trundling sound
behind her as a porter pushed his trolley towards
the mail train. He stopped by her side. 'You
shouldn't have them nippers out at this time of
night, ducks.'

His voice was gruff but kindly and Eloise
dashed her hand across her eyes, wincing at the
pain as she touched the bruised skin. 'It's
locked,' she said helplessly.

The porter produced a bunch of keys from a
chain hanging at his side. 'I shouldn't do this,
ducks, but I can't let a young woman sleep
rough.' He unlocked the door and ushered them
into the waiting room, which smelt strongly of
disinfectant. 'It ain't exactly home from home,
but you'll be safe enough in here until morning.'

'Thank you,' Eloise murmured tiredly. She put
the valise down and flexed her fingers painfully.
'You're very kind.'

'I got daughters of me own. I wouldn't want
them to be roaming the streets at this time of
night, especially with their nippers.' He eyed her
shrewdly. 'Your old man give you that shiner,
did he?'

Eloise lifted her hand to touch her left eye and
winced with pain. She had not had time to think
about her appearance, but now as she glanced in
the mirror above the empty grate she saw a white
face with black shadows around her eyes and
lips that were cut and swollen. She nodded
vaguely but was saved from answering by Joss,
who was attempting to scramble onto one of the
wooden benches.

'Here, let me.' The porter lifted Joss onto the
seat and patted him on the head. 'There you are,
boy. You be a good little chap for your ma. She
looks fair done in.'

Joss eyed him warily, sucked his thumb and
curled up on the bench, closing his eyes.

'Thank you again,' Eloise murmured, sinking
down on the seat beside Joss and cradling the
sleeping Beth in her arms. 'I'm very grateful.'

'I'll have to lock you in for your own safety,
ducks. But I'll unlock the door when me shift
finishes at half past five, and you'll have to leave
then before the cleaners come in to do their
work.'

'Yes, I understand.'

He hesitated in the doorway. 'You should go
back to him, love. Even if he knocks you about a
bit, you should go back to your hubby. I daresay
he'll be sorry for what he done when he sobers
up a bit. It's a sad fact, but a bloke often uses his
fists when he's had a drop too much to drink. But
you won't get far on your own, and that's for
certain.' He tipped his cap to her as he left the
room, closing the door behind him.

Eloise heard the key grate in the lock and she
uttered a sigh of relief. They were safe, at least for
the next few hours. She leaned against the wall,
rocking Beth gently in her arms. The lights from
the station shone through the frosted glass
panels on the door, making criss-cross patterns
on the tiled floor, and outside she could hear the
muted sounds of doors slamming, trolley wheels
rumbling along the platform and the piercing
blast of the guard's whistle. The engine of the
mail train roared into life and she heard its
wheels grinding on the rails as it pulled out of
the station.

Eloise tried to keep awake by staring at the
gaily coloured posters advertising seaside
resorts and spa towns that hung on the walls, but
gradually her eyelids became heavier and
heavier and she began to drift off to sleep.

She was awakened by the grating of the key in
the lock and a blast of cold air as the door
opened.

'Sorry, love, but me shift's over. I got to ask you
to move on.' The porter stood in the doorway,
looking apologetic.

Eloise stared at him for a moment, uncertain
whether she was waking or dreaming, and then
the reality of the situation hit her as Beth began
to cry and Joss woke up with a start.

'Here,' the porter said, shuffling into the waiting
room. 'I thought you could do with a cup of
tea, and there's some milk for the little 'uns.' He
placed two mugs on the table. 'I can't stop,
ducks, but you ain't got long afore the cleaning
woman comes in.'

'Thank you,' Eloise murmured, reaching out
for the cup of milk with a grateful smile. 'You've
been really kind to us. I won't forget it in a
hurry.'

'And you'll go back to your old man?'

'I'll do what's right,' Eloise said tactfully.

'Just so.' He backed out of the waiting room.

'I'll be off then. Good luck, love.'
In between giving Beth and Joss sips of the
milk, Eloise drank her tea. She could hear sounds
of the station coming back to life after its night's
respite, and she knew that she must make a
move. The hot, sweet tea was more than welcome,
but she was stiff and sore and a quick
glance in the mirror revealed a horrifying array
of bruises on her face, so much so that she hardly
recognised her own reflection. Joss was eyeing
her oddly too, and she tried to make light of her
injuries by telling him that she fell over and
bumped her head. This explanation seemed to
satisfy him, but he was now hungry and
demanding food. Beth was gnawing at her fist
and Eloise was feeling quite faint from hunger.
Her first priority must be to get them something
to eat, and then she would start looking for cheap
lodgings.