The Cockney Angel (28 page)

With her hooped skirts swaying, Irene
clutched
his arm and they hurried off in the direction of Milk Street. When her feet went from under her, he held her up with surprising strength and within minutes they had reached Robin Hood Court. Danny opened the front door, but he did not cross the threshold. ‘You go in first, miss. I’m afeared she might be a goner, and I can’t stand the sight of a dead ’un.’

Irene did not waste time in remonstrating with him. ‘Make yourself useful then, Danny. Go and fetch the doctor and tell him to be quick.’ Without waiting for his reply, she entered the house. The door to the parlour was wide open and Alice lay spread-eagled on the floor by the sofa. Irene moved swiftly to kneel beside her and she could have cried with relief when she discovered that Alice was still breathing, although deathly pale with a livid bruise on her forehead. Irene did not attempt to move her. She covered her with a crocheted rug from the sofa, and sat on the floor beside her, whispering words of comfort in the hope that Alice might be able to hear.

The ticking of the brass clock on the mantelshelf seemed to get louder and louder as she waited, although the hands barely appeared to move. The fire had almost burnt to nothing and it was bitterly cold in the room. Irene rose stiffly to her feet; there was little she
could
do for Alice until the doctor had examined her and deemed her fit to be moved, but she could do something to relieve the chill. She piled coal onto the dying embers and worked the bellows until tongues of golden flame licked up the chimney. When she was certain that the fire was burning satisfactorily, Irene took a spill from the jar on the hearth and lit the candles on the mantelshelf and on the dining table. She checked Alice again and was relieved to see a little colour returning to her pallid cheeks. ‘Alice,’ she said softly. ‘Can you hear me?’ There was no response and Irene was close to panicking, but the sound of footsteps crunching on the frozen snow in the court made her hurry to the window. To her intense relief she saw Danny, followed by the familiar figure of Dr Drummond, who was Ma’s old physician. She went to the door to meet them. ‘Thank goodness you’ve come, doctor. I done what I could but I’m afraid she’s badly hurt.’

‘Wait in the hall, Danny,’ Dr Drummond said firmly. ‘I might need you to go to the apothecary to fetch some medicine.’

Irene could see that Danny was close to tears and she patted his hand. ‘You did well to find the doctor so quickly.’ She hurried into the parlour to find the doctor on his knees beside Alice. He looked up and gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Nothing broken, although I fear
she
might have a mild concussion from the blow to the head. Fetch the boy in, Irene, and we’ll lift her onto the sofa. Perhaps you would go to the scullery and see if there is any arnica to put on that bruise.’

The scullery was small and the walls were lined with shelves. A window looked out onto a back yard with a pump and a privy close to the back fence. Jars and tins were ranged neatly on the shelves and there was bread in the crock on the table beneath the window. Irene searched a cupboard for arnica but found only a pitcher of milk and several brown paper packets containing tea, sugar and cocoa. She found a clean towel hanging on a hook and she took it outside to hold it under the pump, wringing as much water out of the wet material as she could before returning to the living room. She was relieved to discover that Alice had regained consciousness and was lying on the sofa.

‘I couldn’t find any arnica so I brought this instead,’ Irene said, handing the damp cloth to Dr Drummond.

He placed it on Alice’s forehead. ‘A cold compress usually works wonders and I don’t think there’s any lasting harm done, but she must rest. It is very hard to make Alice follow instructions. She is not a model patient.’

His tone was severe but Irene saw a twinkle
in
his grey eyes and Alice did not seem upset by this remonstrance. She managed a wobbly smile. ‘I’m sorry to be such a trial to you, doctor.’

‘So you should be. You must not over-exert yourself, Alice. There are plenty of people around who are only too willing to do things for you.’

Irene saw Alice’s bottom lip quiver and she gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Don’t be too hard on her, doctor.’

‘It was my fault,’ Alice said humbly. ‘I wanted to read my book but it was too dark to see. I tried to get to the table in order to light the candle, but I must have fainted or simply fallen. I don’t remember anything else.’

‘You could have fallen on the fire,’ Danny muttered. ‘You might have set yourself alight. You only had to wait for me to come in, miss.’

‘I know. I’m sorry to cause so much fuss.’ Alice’s blue eyes filled with tears and she fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief.

‘It was an accident,’ Irene said, shooting a warning glance at Danny. ‘No lasting harm has come from it.’

Dr Drummond picked up his medical bag. ‘There’s nothing more I can do at the moment. You must rest now, Alice. I’ve no doubt that Mrs Priest will be back soon and she will look after you until your brother returns. I’ll call in
again
tomorrow, but if you should need me sooner, just send the boy.’

‘Thank you, doctor,’ Alice said meekly.

‘Mind you follow my instructions, young lady,’ Dr Drummond said, allowing his stern countenance to crack into a smile. He left the room, beckoning Irene to follow him into the hall. ‘Perhaps you could stay here until her brother arrives home,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I don’t think she ought to be left alone until we are certain that there are no adverse effects from the fall.’

Irene hesitated. She did not relish the idea of facing Kent after their last stormy meeting, and Josiah would be returning home soon for his luncheon. There would be an almighty row if he discovered that she was missing.

Chapter Fourteen

‘COME NOW, IRENE,’
Dr Drummond said with an impatient twitch of his shoulders. ‘Surely I don’t have to ask you twice? You are not unused to caring for the sick and infirm. Why do you hesitate?’

She tried to think of a plausible excuse, but Dr Drummond was regarding her with a steely look in his eyes. The parlour door had been left slightly ajar and she could see Alice lying as pale and limp as a rag doll on the sofa. Irene struggled with her conscience and lost. ‘I’ll be glad to sit with Alice.’

‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’ Dr Drummond’s expression lightened just a little and he snatched up his bag, seeming eager to be on his way. He let himself out of the house and a gust of ice-cold wind blew in from the court bringing with it a flurry of snow. Irene closed the door and hurried back into the parlour where she found that the draught had extinguished the candles, leaving trails of blue smoke rising to the ceiling and a strong smell of hot candle wax.

‘That’s what happened,’ Alice said wearily. ‘When Gladys left this morning the candles went out. I had to light them or else I would have been in semi-darkness until she returned.’

Irene took a spill from the jar and held it in the fire. ‘There you are,’ she said, relighting the candles. ‘Now you can see to read.’

‘My head aches,’ Alice said, rearranging the cold compress. ‘I think I would rather talk to you, if you don’t mind.’

It was no use looking at the clock, although Irene was aware that it must be well past noon. Emmie would have to make up an excuse for her absence from the table or face her husband’s wrath for breaking one of his cast-iron rules. Irene pulled up a chair and sat down beside Alice. ‘I don’t mind at all and I’ve all the time in the world. What would you like to talk about?’

Alice smiled. ‘I know you parted on bad terms with my brother. It grieves me and I’d like to say a word in Edward’s defence. You see, I love my brother. He is so good to me.’

And that is why he leaves you on your own all day without proper care, in a dark and dingy room with so little cheer that it would make the most optimistic person want to cut their throat? The words went through her head, but Irene managed to bite her tongue. ‘I’m sure he is,’ she said in as mild a tone as
she
could manage. ‘Tell me how you fill the long day? You said you were reading. What books do you like?’

Alice peeled the compress from her forehead. ‘This is making me shiver. Do you think it would be all right if I left it off?’

Taking it from her, Irene tossed it onto the table. ‘You must do as you please, Alice. I think you spend too much time being concerned for others. You should be a bit more selfish – like me.’

That made Alice giggle. ‘I don’t believe you are selfish at all. Just look at you, Irene. All dressed up like a lady and you obviously have much better things to do than simply sitting here with me.’

‘I haven’t,’ Irene said truthfully. ‘And these clothes aren’t mine. They belong to my sister, Emily, who has married a pompous boor of a man who is middle-aged and fat but has plenty of money.’

Alice’s eyes opened wide with interest. ‘Really? That sounds just like one of the novels that I’ve been reading. Have you read Mr Thackeray’s
Vanity Fair
? The heroine, Becky Sharp, is so determined to better her position in life that she will do almost anything. I don’t think she marries a much older man, but I haven’t quite got that far. Although,’ she added hastily, ‘I didn’t mean to liken her to your
sister
. I’m sure she married for love and not for money.’

Irene let this pass and she settled herself more comfortably on the chair. ‘I’ve only just begun reading novels. I haven’t had that much education, but Josiah, my brother-in-law, has scores of books in his study. I’ve read some of them, although I am a bit slow, and sometimes struggle with the long words.’

‘I do admire you for that. We were lucky, I suppose. Although we grew up on a farm, our mother was an educated lady and she made certain that we could both read and write at a very young age.’

‘You must miss her.’

‘I do. She was a wonderful person; so sweet and loving. She taught us herself until she fell ill and then she made certain that we attended the village school. Our lives would have been so different if she had lived. But everything seemed to go wrong after she died, and then I had the accident. If Edward had not brought me to London I tremble to think what sort of life I would have led on the farm, for I am very little use to anyone.’

‘You must not think like that,’ Irene said hotly. ‘It’s quite obvious that your brother thinks the world of you and quite rightly too.’

Alice sighed. ‘Yes, Edward is so patient with me. He never complains.’

And he is hardly ever here, Irene thought angrily. If he spent a little more time with his sister and lot less time chasing promotion, he might be a better person.

‘He is a good man,’ Alice insisted as if sensing Irene’s disapproval. ‘And he’s very good at his job too.’

Irene could see that an answer was expected and she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘I believe he works very hard.’ She did not add that Inspector Kent had been instrumental in putting her own father behind bars and had sent her childhood friend into exile. To wilfully hurt Alice would be like pulling the wings off a fragile butterfly. Irene glanced at the clock again. It was half past one and by now Ma and Emmie would be frantic with worry. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had not eaten since breakfast.

‘You keep looking at the clock,’ Alice said softly. ‘Please don’t stay here on my account. Edward will come as soon as he can and Gladys should be back from delivering her washing any moment now.’

‘Do you always have to wait for her to get your meals?’

‘I’m used to it, and I don’t have much of an appetite.’

Irene put her hand in her pocket and felt the reassuring jingle of coins in Emmie’s purse.
She
rose to her feet and slipped on the fur-lined mantle. ‘I’m starving even if you’re not. There’s a pie shop on the corner of Milk Street; it won’t take me more than five minutes to walk there and buy us some food. Will you be all right if I leave you alone for that long, Alice?’

Alice nodded and smiled. ‘Of course, but please don’t put yourself out for me.’

Irene fastened the military-style frogging across her chest and pulled on her gloves. ‘I’m not. This is for me, pure and simple.’

It was a relief to leave the dreary house and she was tempted to keep going, but she could not let Alice down. Irene trudged on, driven by loyalty as well as hunger, and she purchased two hot meat pies, pease pudding and mashed potato. The bundle wrapped in a copy of yesterday’s newspaper warmed her hands as she made her way back to the house.

‘That was quick,’ Alice said, sniffing appreciatively. ‘It smells so good. I think I might be hungry after all.’

Putting aside all thoughts of facing Inspector Kent and the embarrassment it would cause, Irene served the food and settled down to enjoy her meal. She couldn’t help noticing that Alice ate less than half of what was on her plate before declaring that she could not manage another mouthful.

‘I’ve eaten much more than usual,’ she said apologetically. ‘I don’t need much food, sitting about all day as I do.’

‘Do you never go outside these four walls?’

‘Not very much at all in the winter, but in the summer Edward hires a Bath chair and we go down to the river where I watch the ships and barges. That is my favourite place. I love the river and I try to imagine it from its source to the sea and all the sights it must pass on its way. Sometimes I wish I could sail away on the tide and let the river take me to some of the far-flung places that I read about in books.’

Irene swallowed the last of her pie, feeling quite guilty that she enjoyed the best of health while poor Alice was forced to live a life of dreams. She hid her feelings by taking the plates to the scullery. She was on her way back to the living room when she heard footsteps on the frosty cobblestones and the doorknob rattled. She held her breath, drawing herself up to her full height in the expectation of facing Kent, but it was Mrs Priest who burst into the hall with a worried expression deepening the lines on her face into ridged furrows. ‘Oh, miss, my Danny told me that you were here. Hasn’t the inspector come home?’