Eve of the Isle (21 page)

‘No thanks. Don't know how long I'll be.'

‘Leave your baskets with me, then. I'll drop them off early in the morning.'

Eve nodded. ‘Thanks, Archie.'

‘Take care of yourself. Don't like it round this way much. See yer tomorrow.'

When the cart had gone, Eve hurried briskly along. She would make her enquiries swiftly as she didn't want to be here after dark.

Peg walked in to her front room, the room she had once thought she might never use again. It still didn't smell healthy, but it was clean. The stove in the kitchen and the fire in the grate had helped to dry out the cottage. But if the water had risen a few more inches, they'd still have been scraping the contents of the drains from the chimney!

The sound of the boys' voices drifted in from the street. They were having a rare old time. When she'd told them they could go out to play, their faces had been rays of sunshine.

She glanced at the mantel clock. Half past seven. It was unusual for Eve to be late. But perhaps she'd gone to the Queens after the factory gates. Made a few posies of what was left.

She smiled again as she watched from the window. Samuel kicked the ball, though it didn't go far. As flat as a pancake it was and well past its prime. Albert dug in his trousers for the liquorice sticks Peg had bought them. They squatted in the gutter, eating and laughing together. They were good-looking nippers, but a sitting target for those bullies at school. With the stigma of their dad being a lascar and dead into the bargain, they had had a lot to deal with.

Peg sighed thoughtfully. Would it be any different if Raj was still alive, she wondered. Could he have defended them? He'd been gentle and sensitive, but he hadn't been a fighter. He'd loved his wife and his boys and put money on the table for his family. They'd been content with the little they had. It was so unfair that he'd drowned.

Peg sat down on the chair by the grate. Expertly rolling a cigarette she inhaled with a satisfying gulp of smoke. She would give the boys another half hour then call them in. Eve would chew her off, but it was worth it.

Peg only realized she had dozed off when the pain woke her. The cigarette had fallen from her fingers to her thigh. She jumped up, brushing off the burning ash. There was a hole in her skirt.

‘Bugger.' She picked up the dog end and threw it into the grate.

As she looked up, she saw it was eight o' clock. It was time to call the boys in, get them ready for prayers and bed.

Eve left the green lawns of the King Edward the Seventh Park behind her. It had been busy with people enjoying the late afternoon sun. Some strolled on the grass, others sat on benches while the children played, their laughter drifting on the breeze.

The twins had been a year old when she had last come here. The memory was bitter sweet. Samuel had
been in Raj's arms and Albert straddled her hip; it had been a happy day. It was a journey they had made especially to see the new park, and many visitors had come to enjoy the new facilities. Though the area known as sailortown was close by, the park was a welcome diversion, providing new and luxurious green lawns, a few young trees and a promenade overlooking the river. Many of the older buildings had been knocked down for its construction. The park had replaced many unwholesome buildings and was now a place of beauty. But today Eve didn't linger here, instead she headed towards the meaner streets of Shadwell.

A glimpse of the river appeared on her left. In between her and the Thames wound the tiny lanes of boat-builders, sail-makers, riggers, coopers and ships' chandlers. She hurried on towards sailortown and the disreputable lodging houses and gaming institutions that were masked by grime-covered walls. That the dark side of life should run so closely to the wide open green spaces of the park was a surprise for Eve. She had never come as far south as this. Pushing her day's takings deeper into the folds of her skirt, she pulled her shawl around her and shivered.

Slowly the sun began to fade and Eve knew darkness would fall soon. She was beginning to think that it had been foolish of her to ask Archie for a ride. She shivered again in the cooling air.

Were there steps behind her? She turned round and saw nothing. Lights were going on in the houses, and
sailors began to emerge. They walked in noisy groups, eager to find a tavern.

Eve kept her distance as they passed. Some shouted remarks and whistled, making her want to run back to the park and safety. She wasn't sure she had enough courage to go on.

Jimmy was trying to bear up under the verbal onslaught from Peg. He loved her like a mother, but sometimes her sharp tongue had him cringing. And tonight was one of those occasions. She hadn't listened to a word he had said, just torn him off a strip for being late, before he could offer a word in his defence.

‘What have you been up to, Jimmy? Whose pockets have you been down? What fiddle have you been on?'

‘Hold your apple sauces, Peg, let me get me breath.'

‘What time do you call this to roll in?'

He laughed. ‘It's only ten o'clock.'

‘It feels like the middle of the night. You always disappear the minute you're needed. You're like bloody Houdini.'

‘Peg, sit down. Take a breath and tell me what's wrong.'

‘Where's me fags?'

‘Your baccy's on the windowsill as usual.' He gave it to her. ‘I'll put the kettle on whilst you light up.'

‘Don't bother. I'm full to the eyeballs with tea. I've been here on me Darby and Joan, drinking one cup after another.'

He pushed her down gently on a chair. ‘Now what's all this about?'

Peg ran her hands through her tangled grey hair. ‘She ain't home, that's what's wrong.'

Jimmy frowned. ‘You mean Eve?'

‘The latest she ever come back from the Queens or the factories is eight.'

‘But it's only ten.'

‘Don't keep saying that. I can tell the bloody time.'

‘What I mean is, it's not that late.'

‘It is for Eve. I put the boys to bed meself.'

Jimmy pulled out a chair and sat down. He knew as well as Peg that Eve never missed their bed times. She said their prayers with them as regular as clockwork.

‘I let them play out in the street tonight,' said Peg, staring into space. ‘I knew their mother wouldn't like it. Not since Sister Mary's dressing down. They told me they'd done their homework and I didn't see why they shouldn't have a bit of fresh air. I was preparing meself for a bit of a showdown when she came home. Thing is, she never did.'

Jimmy didn't like the sound of this. Had it anything to do with what he had found out for her? But surely she wouldn't go to Shadwell on her own and at this time of night?

‘Where can she be?' Peg's lips trembled around the thin cigarette.

‘Have you been up to Joseph?'

‘Yeah.'

‘And the Higgins?'

‘Them too.'

‘They ain't seen her?'

‘You know the answer to that.'

Jimmy tapped his dirty fingers on the table. ‘She say anything to you about going somewhere?'

Peg rolled her anxious eyes. ‘Do you think I'd be as worried as I am if she had? You silly sod, don't ask daft questions.'

‘Right, I'll go and look for her.' He pulled on his cap and jumped up. ‘I'll cycle up to Poplar and back again.'

‘Take the Tilley on yer bike.'

He watched Peg turn up the wick of the Tilley and put a taper to it. Then giving her a peck on her cheek he hurried out to the yard. Placing the lamp carefully in his basket, he lifted the front wheel over the crumbled wall. As the dark night enveloped him, he tried to keep his fear in check. If Eve didn't turn up, there was only one place she was likely to be.

And he didn't want to think about that.

Eve stepped through the doors of the Drunken Sailor and the fumes enveloped her. The air was thick with tobacco smoke. Men were talking, drinking and laughing together.

Her arm was roughly taken. A tall man with a beard pulled her to him. ‘On yer own are you? Come and sit on me lap.'

There was laughter from his friends as they jostled round.

‘You're a flower-seller, ain't you?' He stared at her working clothes.

‘What you got for sale, love? Come over here and show me.'

Eve managed to pull away. She pushed through the crowd to the bar where the landlord was serving.

‘What do you want?' His dirty shirtsleeves were rolled across his tattooed arms.

‘I'm looking for a man named Somar Singh.'

He frowned at her. ‘Who wants to know?'

‘My name is Eve Kumar.'

‘And what would you want with a lascar?'

‘You know he's a lascar?'

‘The name suggests it, girl.'

‘He's from the ship called the
Tarkay
. He sailed with my husband Raj on the
Star of Bengal
five years ago.'

‘You was married to a lascar?'

Eve nodded and the big man rubbed his bearded jaw. ‘It's dangerous to be a woman on your own in these parts. Ain't you got no one with you?'

‘I only want to find this man.'

He took another look at her. Then calling for the barmaid, he nodded to the door at the side. ‘Go through there.'

Eve made her way round, pushing past the men who gave her long looks. The landlord opened the door and
nodded. She went in to a dark passage. The door slammed behind her.

Eve followed him, each step she took making her more uneasy.

Suddenly he turned sharply. ‘A word of advice, girl. There's a few of 'em in this room, all enjoying the vices of sailortown. Any fool can see it's risky for a woman to enter. But see that door over there? It leads to the street. If I were you, I'd take it.'

Eve considered this, but shook her head.

‘Better watch yerself, then. I've said all I can to deter you.'

‘What does Somar Singh look like?'

‘He's a big bugger, wears a jacket with brass buttons, like a flamin' admiral. Lords it a bit over the others. Now, at the risk of repeating meself, if I was you, girl, I'd turn round and go out that door, forget about lascars and go back to where you come from.'

‘I can't do that.'

‘Be it on your own head, then.' He left her, and Eve stood in the silence. She had found Somar Singh, but what would she say to him? The first question she would ask was if he had known Raj at the time of his death.

She tried to stop shaking. It wasn't too late to change her mind. The landlord had shown her the other door. But if she walked through it onto the street she might never find Singh again.

The air was thick with a pungent smell as Eve stepped
into the back room. All she could see were shapes both seated and lying on the floor. No one spoke.

Eve blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. ‘I'm looking for Somar Singh,' she stammered, suppressing a cough as the putrid smell surrounded her. ‘My name is Eve . . . Eve Kumar. My husband was Raj Kumar. He sailed as cook on the
Star of Bengal
and was lost overboard five years ago.' She stopped. No one moved or broke the silence. ‘If Somar Singh isn't here, then does anyone know where I can find him?'

Still silence prevailed.

Then everything happened at once. Bodies rushed past her and she stumbled back as arms and legs sped by.

When all was quiet again, one man remained. A row of brass buttons ran down his jacket.

Eve tried to regain her balance as she clutched at the wall. The whites of the man's eyes shone in the darkness.

He moved slowly towards her.

Then everything went black.

Jimmy had cycled so fast and so far, he had to stop to catch his breath. He knew by the town hall clock that it was past midnight, the big chimes making him realize how desperate the situation was. He had been cycling round Poplar and the island for two hours. He'd watched the crowds pour out of the Queens, going happily on their way after a good night's entertainment. Now there
was no one around save a few drunks, singing their way back home and one or two carts that rumbled and creaked along the highway. A flash or two of a Tilley, an odd motor vehicle and definitely no women. Even the dock dollies were occupied on the waterfront and wouldn't come up this way.

What should he do now? Jimmy scratched his hot head under his cap then jumped back on his bike. He pedalled as fast as he could, his one hope that somewhere along the way, his and Eve's paths would cross. At the top of the hill, he stopped pedalling and freewheeled down the dip to number three Isle Street. The light was on downstairs, a softer glow from above. It meant the boys' Tilley was on, but downstairs Peg was still up.

He jumped off his bike and scraped the key string up through the letterbox. He didn't have to look far to know that Eve wasn't home.

‘Did you find her?' Peg was standing at the kitchen door. She was puffing at her cigarette, her cheeks drawn.

Jimmy shook his head.

‘Where did you look?'

‘Poplar, the High Street and right down to Island Gardens. I even went up to Blackwall and Bambury Buildings.'

Peg stifled a cough. ‘What was the good of that?'

‘I was gonna ask Joan if she'd seen her.'

‘You must be daft. What would Eve want with Joan?'

‘I don't know. Thought I'd try.'

‘You didn't knock on the door!'

‘Didn't know the number, did I? But I remember you said it was on the top floor.'

‘Did you go up?'

Jimmy sat down. He wasn't sure whether he should tell Peg what he'd found at Bambury Buildings, and anyway, he might be wrong. But in the end he said, ‘Yes, I went up. Couldn't see no one and I wasn't going to knock at that time of night. But on the stairs there was a couple, all lovey dovey.'

Peg shook her head irritably. ‘Get on with it, Jimmy. What's that got to do with Eve?'