A Mother's Promise (32 page)

Ashamed of her unworthy thoughts, Hetty
braced her shoulders and headed for the kitchen, where she found the family busily preparing the Christmas feast. The floor might be rough flagstones and the ceiling blackened with smoke and soot from the range, but the room was fuggy with the heat of cooking and fragrant with the scent of herbs and spices. The air was filled with the excited babble of voices and laughter. Hetty did not know whether to be pleased or disappointed that her late homecoming had gone virtually un-noticed. If she had expected everyone to fuss around her demanding to know where she had been until this hour, she was sadly disappointed. Granny was seated by the range, plucking a large goose, and Nora sat opposite her, peeling potatoes. Tom was sitting at the table dandling Natalia on his knee.

Jane glanced up from peeling the skin off blanched almonds and smiled. ‘Good. You’re just in time to stir the pudding and have your wish, Hetty.’

Tom was sneaking plump raisins from the mixing bowl and popping them into Natalia’s open mouth. Jane spotted him and slapped the back of his hand. ‘Oy, you! Those raisins cost money, Tom Crewe.’ She spoke crossly but the tender look in her eyes betrayed her true feelings to Hetty at least.

Tom grinned sheepishly. ‘The pudding won’t
lack for a couple of raisins, girl. And young Talia here just loves them, don’t you, poppet?’ He chucked Natalia under the chin, making her giggle and curl up in his arms like a playful kitten. ‘She’s a real treasure, ain’t she, Hetty?’

Hetty’s heart swelled with pride and she could have kissed Tom for loving the little girl almost as much as she did. Jane was not a bad mother – she looked after Natalia’s physical needs and Hetty knew that she would protect her child like a tigress if danger threatened – but she still seemed to find it difficult to show affection to her daughter.

Hetty took off her bonnet and shawl and laid them on the back of a chair. ‘Don’t you want to know why I was so late home?’

With her hands covered in feathers, Granny looked up from the half-plucked carcass of the goose. ‘Whatever it was you’ve missed most of the hard work. Nora’s been peeling taters and she made the stuffing. Jane’s made the pudding all by herself, which should have been made months ago, if we’d had the time and money to buy the makings. I got the worst job of all, plucking and drawing this here goose. You’ve come just in time to stir the pudding mixture and have a wish. I call it crafty.’

‘Have a heart, Mattie,’ Nora wheezed, dropping a pared potato into a pan of cold water. ‘The girl’s been out working all day.’

‘We’ve all done a day’s work,’ Granny shot back at her. ‘And people our age ought to be sitting by the fireside taking things easy.’

Nora’s deep bosom heaved as a chuckle escaped her lips. ‘Your age maybe, Mattie. You could give me ten years or more. I ain’t ready to turn up me toes just yet, nor sit by the fire with a lace cap on me head. In fact, when we’ve finished here, I suggest we all go to the pub for a glass of buttered rum punch. There’s not much more we can do until morning.’

‘I don’t hold with public houses,’ Granny said, sniffing. ‘Evil places they are, leading men and women into bad habits, drunkenness and worse.’

Hetty went over to her, holding out her hands. ‘Here, let me finish that off, Granny. And if you’ll stop grumbling for a minute or two, I’ll tell you what happened to keep me out so late.’

Granny assumed a martyred expression. ‘No, I started it and I’ll finish the job. I don’t trust you to do it properly, Hetty. And I don’t want to get a mouthful of feathers in my Christmas dinner. Heaven knows it’s taken long enough to save up for this feast, so it’s got to be just right.’

At that moment, the scullery door burst open and a wave of merriment heralded Sammy,
Eddie and George as they dragged a huge Christmas tree into the kitchen.

‘Look at this tree,’ Sammy cried gleefully. ‘Have you ever seen anything like it in your life, Hetty?’

‘It’s bigger than George,’ Eddie said, dragging off his cap and staring at the fir tree in awe as George held it upright.

‘We haven’t had a tree since Pa died,’ Jane said, wiping her floury hands on her apron. ‘It’s a corker, George, but we haven’t got anything to hang on it.’

Hetty looked round at their happy faces. How could she have compared their way of life unfavourably with the lonely existence of a spoilt and unhappy rich woman? Everyone had been saving up to make this a special celebration and it would certainly be a Christmas to remember. Her news could wait.

George gave the tree to Sammy to hold while he went out into the yard to fetch a suitable container, which turned out to be half a beer barrel filled with soil. When the tree was safely planted, George stood back and everyone clapped their hands. Hetty hurried across the floor to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, George. It’s a beautiful tree, and it smells wonderful. I just have to close my eyes and I can imagine myself walking in a pine forest on a cold, snowy day.’

He hooked his arm around her shoulders. ‘Is there anyone with you in this pine forest, Hetty?’

The intimate tone of his voice brought her back to reality with a start, and she drew away from him rather more abruptly than she had meant to. ‘No, and I’m never likely to see a pine forest let alone go tramping through one.’ She turned away from him and beckoned to the boys. ‘Let’s see what we can find to decorate the tree.’

‘I’ve thought of that,’ George said, putting his hand in the capacious pocket of his topcoat and pulling out a handful of small candles. ‘Here, we can fix these on the branches.’

‘And I’ve got some scraps of ribbon,’ Granny said, entering into the spirit of things with surprising enthusiasm. ‘You girls can make them into bows and tie them on the tree. We always had one just like this when my Harold was alive. We had some glass balls too, but they all broke.’

‘It’s a topping tree,’ Sammy cried enthusiastically. ‘It’s the best tree in the whole of London.’

‘It’s the best tree in the whole world,’ Eddie added, not to be outdone.

Jane gave the contents of the basin a final stir. ‘There, I’ve had my wish. It’s your turn, boys, and then it’s bedtime for you two and
Natalia, who should have been tucked up in her cot an hour ago.’

Sammy and Eddie took it in turns to stir the pudding. Hetty smiled as she watched them surreptitiously lick the spoon while Jane was busy with Natalia, who objected to being prised off Tom’s lap.

‘I called in earlier, Hetty, but you weren’t home,’ George said in a low voice. ‘What kept you?’

‘It’s not important, George. I’ll tell you later.’ Hetty took the spoon from Eddie. ‘My turn now.’

‘Close your eyes and wish,’ Sammy said, running his finger round the rim of the bowl and licking it. ‘And you mustn’t tell anyone or the wish won’t come true.’

Hetty closed her eyes and thought of Charles. She could see his loving expression and hear his voice telling her that he adored her. It was so clear that she raised her face ready to receive his kiss. Her eyes flew open as she felt the soft touch of someone’s lips on hers, but it was George’s smiling face hovering so close to her own. It was not her beloved Charles. She pushed him away angrily. ‘George, don’t be such a fool.’

A dark shadow clouded his eyes. ‘It was just a little kiss, Hetty. A Christmas kiss.’

She knew she had hurt him, and she
regretted her abrupt tone, but he had caught her unawares and shattered her dream of Charles. She shook her head. ‘It’s not Christmas yet, George.’

An irrepressible dimple deepened at the corner of his generous mouth. ‘Then can I have another kiss tomorrow?’

‘You should have brought some mistletoe, George,’ Jane said eagerly. ‘We must have some mistletoe.’

Tom put his arm around Jane’s waist and planted a smacking kiss on her lips. ‘Who needs mistletoe?’ He released her and moved towards Hetty, pushing George out of the way. ‘What about you, Hetty? Have you got a kiss for your oldest friend?’

She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Yes, why not?’

Granny sniffed. ‘What a to-do. All this kissing isn’t seemly.’

Nora raised herself from her chair. ‘Don’t be an old killjoy, Mattie. You can kiss me, boys. I ain’t too old to enjoy a little bit of a kiss and a cuddle, even if you are both young enough to be me sons.’

Hetty bent down to kiss Sammy and Eddie, and they both wiped their cheeks on their sleeves, pulling faces which were obviously intended to demonstrate their disgust as they giggled self-consciously. Natalia held her arms out to Hetty and she took her from Jane,
burying her face in Talia’s curls. This was what was important in life, being with her family and her dear friends. If only Charles were here too, then it would be the happiest Christmas of her entire life, but that would come. That was why she would go and see Miss Heathcote on Boxing Day and why she would accept her terms for their business partnership. Money was not important in itself, but financial success would enable her to go to Philadelphia and hold her head high amongst Charles’ wealthy friends and relations.

‘Hetty, you haven’t been listening to a word I’m saying,’ Jane said crossly. ‘You were miles away.’

‘Sorry,’ Hetty murmured, kissing Talia on the tip of her tiny nose and making her giggle. ‘What did you say then?’

Jane reached for her bonnet and shawl. ‘I said, since I’ve done all the hard work, it’s only fair that you should put the nippers to bed so that I can go to the pub with Tom and Nora.’

‘I’m coming too,’ Granny said, taking off her apron. ‘Put the goose in the larder when you’ve done, Hetty.’

‘Go along with you,’ Hetty said, smiling. ‘I’m tired anyway and I’ll be glad of an early night.’

Jane linked her hand through Tom’s arm. ‘Come on. What are we waiting for?’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to come,
Hetty?’ Tom cast an anxious glance in her direction. ‘I’m sure that good old George would stay and mind the nippers.’

‘I haven’t seen the kids all day,’ Hetty replied, shifting Natalia’s weight to her hip. ‘I’ll stay and see them to bed. You go and enjoy yourselves.’

George moved to her side. ‘And good old George will be happy to stay and keep Hetty company.’

Nora put on her feathered hat and secured it with a hatpin. She wrapped a thick woollen shawl round her shoulders and headed for the door. ‘Come on. I’m so parched I’m spitting feathers.’

‘You’re so vulgar, Nora,’ Granny muttered. ‘If you start singing, I’m coming straight home.’

Jane seized Tom’s cap and placed it at an angle on his head, smiling up into his face. ‘Let’s go, Tom.’

When the kitchen door closed on them, Hetty turned to the boys. ‘Are your hands and faces clean?’ They nodded, holding up their hands. ‘All right, Sammy, lead on.’

‘If they don’t do as they’re told, just give me a call,’ George said cheerfully. ‘I’ll sort them out.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Sammy said, dancing about on his toes and playfully fisting his hands. ‘You and whose army, George?’

Before Sammy could run away, George had swooped on him, hefting him over his shoulder. ‘Cheeky little blighter,’ he said, chuckling. ‘I’m bigger than you, young Samuel, and don’t you forget it.’

With Natalia’s sleepy head resting on her shoulder, Hetty stopped in the doorway, and she couldn’t help smiling as Eddie threw himself at George, who clamped him securely under his free arm, lifting him off his feet. ‘Lead on, Hetty. I’ve got these two under control.’

‘And Father Christmas doesn’t come to bad boys,’ Hetty said, tapping the side of her nose. ‘Just remember that, you two.’

They stopped struggling immediately and there were no more protests about going to bed. Having settled the children for the night, Hetty smiled happily. This really would be a Christmas to remember. Even though she had been busy with work, she had found time in the past few weeks to search the market stalls in Petticoat Lane for toys to put in their stockings. It would be the first Christmas when they had had more than just an apple and a few boiled sweets. George had provided some oranges and a bag of walnuts, almonds and Kentish cobnuts, and Nora had been generous with slabs of toffee, liquorice and even some bars of chocolate. Hetty left a nightlight burning on the mantelshelf in their room, and
then she followed George downstairs to the kitchen.

‘Come and sit down, love,’ he said, taking a seat by the fire. ‘You’ll wear yourself to a shadow.’

She picked up the goose on its platter and carried it into the larder, setting it down on a marble slab. ‘I’m nearly done.’

He caught her by the hand as she went to pass him. ‘Sit down and tell me what kept you so late. I know you wasn’t at the coffee shop because I went by that way intending to walk you home and found it closed.’

She gave his fingers a squeeze and subsided onto the chair beside him. She began, a little haltingly at first, to tell him what had happened earlier that evening. George listened without interruption until she had finished. ‘So you’re going to let this woman talk you into some wild business venture.’ He rose to his feet and began to pace the floor.

‘I’m thinking about it. Yes.’

‘And have you told the others about this crazy scheme?’

‘Not yet. I wanted to talk it over with you first.’

‘That’s noble of you. I thought the old woman didn’t approve of men.’

‘What’s the matter, George? Why are you so cross?’

He stopped to stare down at her with a frown creasing his brow. ‘You don’t know anything about this person, Hetty. She might be completely nuts for all you know.’

Hetty leapt to her feet. She was tired and now she was angry. ‘She’s not mad. She’s an educated woman but she hasn’t been allowed to have control over her own affairs.’

George curled his lip. ‘I wonder why that is? Could it be because the lady is completely off her chump? Why else would she pick a girl from the stews of Spitalfields as a business partner?’

‘You’re insulting her and me. She could see that I got sense and I’m a hard worker. You’re just put out because she wouldn’t speak to you.’

With uncharacteristic roughness, he seized her by the shoulders. His strong fingers cut into her soft flesh and his eyes darkened. ‘You mustn’t allow yourself to be taken in by a complete stranger, even if she does live in a mansion up West. She’s just amusing herself, Hetty. She’s playing games at your expense and when she gets bored with you she’ll drop you like a hot potato, and you’ll have lost everything.’