Eve and Her Sisters (37 page)

Aye, course he was. He was. For a bairn to be taken like that, it was terrible, terrible. And him, the husband. He wouldn’t have wished that.

He began to walk, his hands thrust deep into his pockets and his head bowed. He had seen how the death of Mary’s little bairn had affected Eve; what she must be feeling now, he couldn’t imagine. He stopped, clenching his teeth as a groan deep inside brought him hunching his shoulders.And he couldn’t go to her, couldn’t even offer a word of comfort. Not only did he not feature in her life but now the gulf between them was unbridgeable.

He reached the end of the back way and stepped into Spout Lane but again he stopped, staring about him in the blackness. He had made a mess of his life. Somehow, somewhere, he’d taken a wrong turn and had blundered along ever since. As soon as he had realised how he felt about Eve he should have gone and found her and never mind she didn’t want to know. If he had done that, sat her down and told her how he felt, at least he would have the satisfaction now of knowing he had done everything he could. But he had been hurt and offended at her wanting to cut him out of her life and so he had taken the line of least resistance. Like his father had always done. Looking back, their lives could have been so different if his father had stood up to his mam and worn the trousers. He had always blamed his mam for the rotten family life they’d had, but if his da had been a man and kept his mam in order, things would never have reached the pitch they did. Aw, what was he thinking of his mam and da for tonight? Fat lot of good that was going to do.

He walked on, and as the inn came into view, he thought, would Eve have stayed and been content to be mistress of the inn and his wife if he had had his wits about him in those days? Or had she always set her sights on something grander than being the wife of a village publican? He made a disparaging sound in his throat. He’d never know, would he? He was years and years too late wondering. But one thing was becoming clearer, he didn’t intend to spend the rest of his life in Washington. Or even England for that matter. Years ago he’d had itchy feet, but then Eve and her sisters had come to the inn and he’d got caught up with life and responsibilities. And there had been his mam like a millstone round his neck. But life had changed. Even Jack had died the year before. He had no ties here.

He stood in the inn yard and stared up at the building. He would sell this place come the spring, take as much as he could get for it what with the slump and all and leave for pastures new. France perhaps. Or even further afield. Why not? He was still a young man, he was only thirty-four. He’d heard fortunes could be made in Australia, maybe that was the place to be looking at. One thing was for sure, he didn’t intend to stay here and turn into his father. Or get hitched up with some lass or other.And that’s what they were all angling for. He always made it clear he wasn’t in it for the long haul but sooner or later they’d get that look in their eyes.

He breathed out slowly, and as he did so he noticed he could see the white fan of his breath in the air. The nights were drawing in, winter would be upon them soon and the old-timers were predicting a bad one this year. But come the spring he’d set wheels in motion and by the summer he should be free of this place. And free of all the memories that tied him to her. And that was what he wanted now.

The winter was long and cold. Looking back on the months after Oliver and Howard’s passing, Eve saw them as one dark continuous vacuum. Her only motivation for getting up in the mornings was Alexander, for his sake she picked up the threads of their life and forced herself to go on. He mentioned his brother often in the natural way very young children did. His father he spoke about only occasionally.This was not surprising. Howard had been gone for a large part of most working days but until Oliver had started school three weeks before the accident, the boys had been inseparable.

Day followed joyless day. Weeks passed. Christmas came and went. Eve would gladly have ignored the season but for Alexander’s sake she invited Nell and Toby and their children to join them for the festive period. They arrived Christmas Eve and she was glad she’d made the effort when she saw how much Alexander enjoyed having his cousins to stay. Nevertheless it was a difficult time and she wasn’t altogether sorry when they had to leave on Boxing Day afternoon because Toby had a shift the following day. On New Year’s Eve, once Alexander was asleep, she took a sleeping pill and went to bed early, there to cry herself to sleep as she did most nights.

One of the things that helped her to keep going on the darkest days was her work at the soup kitchen. Things were going from bad to worse in the country as a whole, and the queue was getting longer each morning. It was all very well each year on November the eleventh at eleven o’clock in the morning to have a two-minute silence for those who had died in the war, but that did not put food into children’s bellies.

January and February were raw months with deep driving snow and bitter winds that cut through to the bone. One afternoon as Eve was about to close the door to the church hall and lock up, she noticed one of the regular visitors to the soup kitchen waiting for her. Verity and Annabelle and the two other women who had helped her that day had already left; he clearly wanted a word with her alone. Mr Hutton was an ancient old man with skin like crinkled leather and only the week before she had noticed his cloth jacket was so threadbare it was hardly holding together. The next time he had come to the hall she had quietly passed him a thick overcoat she’d bought, along with a warm muffler. He had been so touched he hadn’t been able to say more than a muttered, ‘Bless you, ma’am.’ Now he said in a low voice, ‘Can I talk with you a minute? It won’t take long.’

‘Of course, Mr Hutton.’ Eve stepped back into the hall. There was the smell of snow in the wind and although there was no heating of any kind in the hall it was considerably warmer than outside.

‘There’s a young lass in the house where I live, nowt but fourteen or fifteen, an’ she’s in trouble, ma’am.’

‘You mean . . .’

‘No, no, not that. At least not yet. She’s a good lass but no thanks to her da. He’s a rough un’ an’ handy with his fists. Knocks his poor wife about somethin’ rotten an’ the bairns an’ all if they get in his way. Over the years afore me wife died we’d have the bairns in ours when he started an’ I suppose Tilly, she’s the little lass, looks on me like a granda. We lost our only one with the fever when he was five years old an’ the good Lord didn’t see fit to bless us with any more.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Hutton. I didn’t know.’

‘Aye, well, I don’t talk about it but I knew you’d understand, what with your misfortune an’ all. Right sorry everyone was to hear about that, ma’am.’

‘Thank you, Mr Hutton.’

‘Anyway, I knew there was somethin’ wrong with young Tilly an’ last night she slipped in to see me. Her mam an’ da have got the upstairs an’ I’m in the two rooms downstairs, see.’

Eve nodded. In some parts of the city it wasn’t unusual for three or four families to be living in one house.

‘Tilly works at the Grand in Market Street as a chambermaid,’ Mr Hutton continued. ‘But her da’s sayin’ she don’t bring enough in. There’s eight of ’em upstairs an’ another bairn on the way. Mind, he’s never done an honest day’s work in his life, her da.’

‘I don’t quite see . . .’

‘He’s after puttin’ the little lass on the game.’

Eve stared into the rheumy old eyes. She knew what Mr Hutton meant but she could hardly take it in that a father would do that to his own daughter.

‘Tilly’s scared to death of him, they all are. One minute she was talkin’ about runnin’ away and the next doin’ herself in. She reckons if she scarpers, her da’d find her an’ bring her back an’ skin her alive. An’ she’s got nowhere to run to. The mam an’ da come across from Ireland when Tilly was a babe in arms, they’ve got no one here. No one except me.’

‘But the mother? Surely she wouldn’t allow it?’

The old man shook his head. ‘Bess’ll do what she’s told.’

Oh dear. She really didn’t want to get involved in this, she had enough on her plate. Then Eve felt ashamed of herself. It was obvious she had to do something if this child wasn’t going to be forced into a life of degradation, but what?

Mr Hutton brought her attention back to him. ‘I’d be much obliged if you would talk to the lass, ma’am.’

Eve nodded.‘All right, Mr Hutton.Why don’t you bring Tilly here tomorrow?’

‘Oh, I can’t do that, ma’am. She works during the day at the Grand, like I said. Her da takes every penny she earns an’ he’d know if they dock her pay for bein’ off an’ be sure to take it out of her hide.’

‘Well, I suppose you could bring her to my house in Penfield Place. It’s number forty-seven.’

‘Today?’ he said quickly. ‘I could meet her out an’ bring her along then an’ her da would be none the wiser.’

‘Very well.’ What had she let herself in for? After watching the old man shuffle away, Eve locked the church hall door and made her way home, taking care not to slip on the icy pavements. It began to snow again as she reached the steps leading up to her front door, and the sky was low and heavy, with more to come. It was only the last week of February, Eve thought wearily. There were weeks and weeks of bad weather to get through yet, and already Alexander was tired of being confined to the house. Of course he had always had Oliver to play with in the past.
Oliver
. Oh Oliver, Oliver.

Alexander came running down the hall like a small whirlwind to meet her as she entered the house, Daisy trailing after him. She knelt down and opened her arms and he flung himself into her, squealing his delight she was back. She played with him for an hour before Daisy got his tea, and then read him picture books until it was time for his bath in front of the nursery fire. She had only just lifted him into the warm water Daisy had prepared when the maid returned to say the visitors she had been expecting had arrived.

Leaving Daisy to oversee Alexander’s bath and dress him in his nightclothes, Eve walked downstairs. Mr Hutton and a small thin girl who didn’t look to be more than eleven or twelve were sitting side by side on two hard-backed chairs in the hall. They stood up immediately they saw her and Eve noticed the girl was so nervous she was visibly shaking.

‘You must be Tilly.’ Eve’s smile included Mr Hutton. ‘Let’s go through to the drawing room, shall we? There’s a nice fire in there.’ Once in the drawing room Eve indicated a two-seater sofa placed at an angle to her armchair. ‘Sit down, please.’

The two sat. It was clear that for once Mr Hutton was overawed, as he had not spoken a word, merely glanced round the room once and then sat down with his gnarled red hands placed palm down on the knees of his worn trousers. Eve looked closely at the young girl in front of her. She was poorly dressed but clean with two bright blue eyes staring out under her faded felt hat. Thin as she was, her coat looked to be a couple of sizes too small and her hands were blue with cold.

‘Mr Hutton has informed me of your circumstances, Tilly,’ Eve said when it became apparent the old man was tongue-tied.‘He’s very concerned about you.’

‘Yes, missis.’

‘Ma’am.’ Mr Hutton spoke for the first time. Tilly looked quickly at him. ‘You say ma’am to the lady, lass.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Making up her mind on the spur of the moment, Eve said, ‘Would you like a cup of tea? It’s very cold outside, you must be frozen.’

Tilly glanced at Mr Hutton and it was he who said, ‘Thank you right kindly, ma’am.’

Rather than ring the bell, Eve said, ‘I’ll just go and see cook about a tray. Daisy, the maid who let you in, is seeing to my son’s bath.’

In the kitchen she instructed Elsie to make up a tray with toasted teacakes and jam and fruit cake. The pair of them looked as though they were half starved. She had only just walked back in the drawing room and was saying, ‘Now, perhaps you can tell me a little about yourself, Tilly,’ when the door opened and Daisy walked in with Alexander in her arms. It was clear he had been crying.

‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but he wants to see you,’ said Daisy, red in the face.

Eve sighed inwardly. She had told Daisy to be firm with him if need be but Alexander, young as he was, knew he had the upper hand and always led Daisy a dance. She held out her arms for her son and then placed him on her lap, saying, ‘You be a good boy while Mummy talks to her visitors, all right?’

Alexander took his thumb out of his mouth and looking straight at Tilly, said,‘I’m Sander.What’s your name?’

For the first time Tilly smiled. ‘My name is Tilly and this is Mr Hutton.’

And then Alexander completely disconcerted everyone by adding,‘Ollie’s not here.He lives in heaven.’

Tilly’s face straightened. She nodded solemnly.‘I’ve got a sister and brother who live in heaven too. I miss them. I suppose you miss your brother too?’

Alexander stared at her. A child of instant likes and dislikes, he now struggled off Eve’s lap and held out his teddy bear to Tilly. ‘This is my bear.You can play wiv him.’

Recognising the honour, Tilly said softly, ‘He’s a grand bear.’

Eve swallowed hard. For a ridiculous moment she felt she was going to burst into tears.Then Elsie bustled into the room with the tray, and Eve turned to Daisy who was standing behind her chair. ‘Would you take Alexander to the nursery and read him a story in bed? I’ll be along shortly.’ And when Alexander opened his mouth to protest, she said firmly in the voice she used for such occasions,‘You will go with Daisy,Alexander, and Mammy will come in a little while if you are a good boy. Daisy will give you your milk and biscuit. All right?’

Once Tilly and Mr Hutton had a plate of cake on their laps, Eve said quietly, ‘You have a way with children, Tilly.’

Again the girl smiled and Eve thought what a difference it made to the sad little face.‘I’m the eldest at home, ma’am, an’ I’ve helped look after our lot ’cos me mam’s often not well. She . . . she suffers with her stomach.’