Eve of the Isle (15 page)

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Authors: Carol Rivers

BOOK: Eve of the Isle
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‘You never know what's round the corner.' Eve undressed and climbed into bed. She shivered even though Joseph had given them two blankets each to add to their outdoor coats and the musty eiderdowns they had rescued from the cottage.

‘And he ain't bad with the lads,' Peg continued, coughing as she inhaled. ‘Whilst I was up the council he fed them when they got home from school. I reckon we fell on our feet coming here.'

‘But I don't want him to think we would take advantage,' said Eve as she snuggled down.

‘Why would he think that?' shrugged Peg, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

‘Because he feels sorry for us. He even offered to buy me a basket,' Eve whispered so the boys wouldn't hear.

‘Blimey, that solves a big problem!'

‘Of course I refused.'

‘What!' Peg's bushy grey head whipped round.

‘He's an old man and hasn't got much himself.'

‘How do you know that? He might be loaded.'

‘Even if he was, I wouldn't accept. I'll find a basket tomorrow if I set off earlier.'

‘Well, I think you're daft,' muttered Peg flattening the dog-end in the saucer.

But Eve had her pride. ‘Did you speak to the council about the rats?'

Peg shrugged as she crushed the dog-end. ‘They won't do nothing till we pay our rent.'

‘Did you tell them we would?'

‘'Course I did.'

‘What did they say?'

Peg was silent then yawned loudly. ‘I told this stuffed shirt he should come round and see what seven and six a week buys. More ruddy rats than in an African jungle.'

Eve groaned. ‘They'll never come round now.'

‘Well, this time they can sing for their supper.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Look, I've lived in that cottage years, long before you was born, ducks. And in all that time, I've paid me way, not missing a week and the bleeding council have sat on their fat arses, never lifting a finger to help. The walls are wet and the floors even wetter. The roof is leaking and if it wasn't for Jimmy, the slates he's nailed back would've stayed where they were, in the gutter. Now, I reckon it's about time the government wallahs held out the olive branch to Isle Street, came along and
did their duty before I pay them a penny more. Right, now I'm off to get me beauty sleep.'

Eve closed her eyes. What was she going to do? Peg was at loggerheads with the council and they wouldn't come to fumigate if the rent wasn't paid.

She had to make some money. But how?

Chapter Nine

E
ve rose early and hailed a ride on a milk cart. Covent Garden market was already busy, the traders and porters attending their stands. It was as the dawn's rays broke through the glass fanlights that she met a costermonger trying to sell off his old stock. He took her out to his cart.

‘How much do you want for it?' Eve asked.

‘How much do you offer?'

‘I could pay you when I've sold it.'

He grinned. ‘So I'd have to trust you, would I?'

‘I'm known to some of the traders here.'

‘Yeah, your face is familiar. Are you the flower-and cress-seller from up Aldgate High Street on Friday nights? The one with two teapot lids?'

Eve smiled. ‘My boys, Samuel and Albert. But we lost our basket the night of the flood.'

He pushed his cap back from his sweating face. ‘So how do you propose to flog this stuff?'

‘I could do it easy if I had a basket,' said Eve, though
she didn't like the look of some of the crushed apples and oranges.

‘How much business have you been doing up Aldgate?' he asked curiously.

‘Brisk,' said Eve.

‘Well, how is this for a deal, young woman. You take me leftovers each day, early mind, so I can load up me cart without the stuff rotting underneath. I've got two baskets so you can borrow one of 'em and at the end of the week, return me five bob.'

‘Five bob is a lot of money.'

‘You said you could sell it easy!' exclaimed the costermonger.

Eve looked him in the eye. ‘You drive a hard bargain.'

‘Are we on?'

‘Four bob and we'll shake hands.'

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘It ain't me who drives a hard bargain, lass. But I like the look of you, so the deal's on.'

He stretched out his hand and she shook it.

‘Me name's Archie Fuller. What's yours?'

‘Eve.'

He gave her a wink. ‘Get cracking then, lass. I'm going in to buy meself fresh stock. When I come out in an hour I want to see me cart empty.'

As Eve rummaged through the fruit and vegetables, an idea came to her. She worked swiftly to retrieve only the fruit and vegetables that she could make presentable to the public. When the basket was full, she called
to two Irish families whom she recognized from yesterday. The women and children had been standing on the sides, waiting to carry baskets for purchasers.

‘Do you want what's in here, all free?' she asked pointing to the cart.

They nodded eagerly.

‘You can have it if you help me out to the street with my basket.'

Ten minutes later Eve was standing on the corner of a road close by. She had told her new employees that if they wanted a repeat performance they were to meet her early the next day. The offer was accepted immediately.

Eve looked down at her laden basket. Discreetly she shined the top layer of fruit with her cuff. Soon she began to call out to the passers-by. ‘Oranges, apples and pears. Cheaper than the market.'

By two o'clock she had sold out to the city folk. With the money she had made she returned to the stands where some of the traders were packing up. She offered to buy their unsold stock and at once struck a deal.

Once more she asked the Irish family for their help and by tea time she had sold everything. Eve counted her takings of five shillings and six pence. She had made enough money for the rent and enough left to give some to Joseph.

She couldn't wait to tell everyone that Eve Kumar was back in business!

Archie Fuller was a man of his word. He met Eve each morning and out of her earnings she bought herself two strong baskets which he agreed to stow on the cart. Over the following weeks, she returned him four shillings every Tuesday, whilst her profits increased by the day.

One Sunday morning in February, Eve woke with a start. A strong wind was whistling through the gaps in the window. It was still dark outside and she got up, careful not to disturb Peg or the boys. Dressing quickly she went downstairs.

A light was on in the scullery. Joseph was already up. ‘Just listen to the wind,' he said as they stood by the draughty door.

‘I'm glad I'm not out selling today,' said Eve, pulling her shawl around her shoulders. The wind seemed to be getting stronger.

‘Come along, I've made tea.'

Eve thought how cosy it was in Joseph's house as they sat together at the table. They were happy here. And she felt better about them staying now she could pay her way. ‘It's Sunday so I'm going to the cottage,' she told him as she sipped the warm brew. ‘I bought a strong disinfectant to deter the rats.'

‘Will it work do you think?'

‘I don't know but anything's worth a try. I don't like going inside but if I wait for the council to come, I could wait forever.'

‘I shall come with you and whilst you work, chase the devils off with a broom.'

Eve smiled. She had been hoping he would offer as she knew the boys and Peg would only stand at the door or in the yard. After living in Joseph's clean and comfortable house, they were as reluctant as she was to go inside their old home.

Just then the wind blew the back door open. A gale blew round the kitchen, sweeping up the cloths and curtains with an invisible hand. Eve rushed to close it.

Joseph looked out of the window. ‘A most unusual turn of events indeed. First the flood and now this.'

After breakfast they all sat in the parlour.

‘Can we go out to play in the street?' asked Samuel and Albert.

Before Eve could answer there was a rushing noise in the chimney. Suddenly a cloud of black soot swept into the hearth. They all jumped up.

‘It's Old Father Thames again,' cried Albert as a dusty fog enveloped them.

‘Oy vay!' Joseph flung his arms up in distress. ‘What evil
dybbuk
is this?'

‘We'll soon clear it up,' said Eve, rushing out to find the brush and pan. But when she returned, Peg and Joseph were trying to stop another avalanche.

Their faces were black and the room was filled with soot.

Joseph placed a heavy board across the hearth to prevent any more catastrophes. The soot and dust covered everything, turning the room a gloomy grey.

They spent the morning cleaning, sweeping and washing. Outside the wind was turning into a hurricane blowing things along the street.

‘Why can't we go out in it?' The boys wanted some excitement.

But when they saw Duggie Higgins in distress, they knew going out was too dangerous. All six feet two of Duggie was thrown back the way he had come.

‘He's hanging on to the lamppost,' gasped Eve as they craned their necks to watch for the next development.

Duggie was losing his battle despite his great strength. He let go and toppled back. When he fell on his backside everyone laughed. But Eve was thinking about the cottage. If the wind was able to blow human bodies about like rag dolls would the cottage be able to withstand its force?

That afternoon they played dominoes. Peg smoked nervously, getting up to look out of the window now and then. When a dustbin clattered by they all rushed to see what it was. Followed by a chair with a broken leg, Eve knew that this was no ordinary wind. The country was experiencing another storm. She said a silent prayer, that no matter how much it blew, it wouldn't rain.

That night, the wind still hadn't given up. It rattled around the house, under the doors, through the windows and into every room.

‘Do you reckon the cottage is still standing?' whispered Peg as they sat in their beds that night talking in whispers so as not to disturb the boys.

‘A wind couldn't knock it down, could it?'

‘Don't think so. A few slates or bricks could come loose. And we've got the copper's barrow to clear up the mess.'

Eve hadn't forgotten Charlie Merritt. Why had he never reclaimed the wheelbarrow? Perhaps he didn't want to be seen with the likes of them again. Had Harold spoken badly of them when he went to the station?

‘Funny he ain't come for it,' said Peg voicing Eve's thoughts.

‘Perhaps he couldn't borrow his dad's van.'

‘Or perhaps he didn't find anything when he nosed around.'

‘I didn't see him snooping,' replied Eve defensively. ‘All he did was help us.'

‘So why's he left that barrow?' persisted Peg irritatingly. ‘Is it an excuse to have a butcher's when he feels like it?'

Eve sighed. ‘What's he going to find? An old tumbled down cottage full of rats. I can't believe the police are interested in us.'

Peg sniffed. ‘Never trust a copper that's what I say.'

Eve didn't reply as although she agreed with Peg about not trusting the police, Charlie Merritt seemed different. He had worked hard that day and cleared some of the mud. But his enthusiasm must have faded when he saw all there was to be done.

‘You going to the market tomorrow?'

‘If the wind's dropped.'

‘You can't sell stuff hanging on to a lamppost, gel.'

‘Let's go to sleep.' Eve didn't want to talk any more. One bad thought seemed to give birth to another.

But all the same, she woke with a start in the night. Wondering what had disturbed her, she realized it was the silence. Pulling her shawl round her she went to the window. There was only the calm night outside and the bright stars twinkling above.

The gale was over.

All day, Eve's thoughts were of the cottage. She had been relieved to see its familiar outline in the dark this morning as she set off for work. Perhaps if she got home early tonight, she could sprinkle down a little of the disinfectant. But it was a chilling thought, as it would be dusk, the shadows producing any number of frights. It would be better if Joseph was with her, but he was an old man and it was still cold in the evenings. At least she had been able to give Peg the money for the rent each week. And although they were not living there, they were not in debt. When the fumigation had been done, they could move back and begin their lives again. She knew the boys and Peg were getting too comfortable at Joseph's house. And although he didn't complain, it must be an imposition to suddenly acquire a large family. He couldn't get on with his own life and although he didn't speak of it, she knew that he had one.

That morning the newspapers announced the gale
had claimed eleven lives as it had swept across Britain. Buildings had been demolished, vehicles turned over and the train service interrupted. Hard on the heels of the flood, once more the nation struggled to return to normal.

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