Authors: Dilly Court
Boy’s employer was one of the invisible businessmen who came and went as quietly as ghosts in the night, until one day when Kate was on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. Boy had been unusually taciturn and she had not been able to get a civil word out of him, but when the door burst open and a thickset man strode into the kitchen she knew by the expression on Boy’s face that this must be Mr Wharton, the former workhouse master who was now employed as a rent collector.
Wharton kicked the pail of water so that it tipped over, spilling its contents on the floor and soaking Kate’s skirts. Without so much as an apology he made a grab for Boy, catching him by the collar and lifting him off his feet so that his thin legs dangled pathetically and his face turned purple as he struggled to catch his breath. Wharton caught him a savage blow round the head and then dropped him onto the floor. ‘I’ll teach you to steal money from my pockets, you thieving little bugger.’ Boy lay on the ground yelping with pain as blows rained down on him.
Unable to bear it any longer, Kate leapt to her feet
and
caught Wharton by the arm. ‘Stop that. You’re hurting him.’
Wharton threw her off so that she fell against the table, momentarily winding herself. ‘Keep out of this, slut. I don’t take orders from the likes of you.’ He aimed a savage kick at Boy, catching him in the stomach. ‘Next time I’ll kill you and be done with it, crookback.’ He stomped out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.
Gasping for breath, Kate went down on her knees and lifted Boy gently so that his head rested on her lap. ‘Are you all right?’
His lips twisted into a grimace. ‘Not so you’d notice.’
She helped him to his feet, wiping his tears away with the corner of her apron. ‘He’s a brute. He should be reported to the police.’
Boy twisted away from her. ‘They won’t do nothing. He’s still a respected man, even though he’s the meanest brute this side of the River Lea. I never took his bleeding money. He’s out of his head on opium most nights, that’s his trouble. He don’t know where he’s at or what he’s doing, but one day I’ll do for the brute. When I’m a man I’ll sort him out good and proper.’
Kate eyed him doubtfully. Boy’s spirit might be strong but his body was frail, and Wharton was a hefty brute. Any more beatings like that might prove fatal. ‘You should get away from here. Have you any relations you could go to, Boy?’
He shook his head. ‘I dunno who my parents were. I was born in the workhouse, that’s all I knows. He took me with him when he left but only because I
could
earn him money. He used to make me beg on the streets when he was short of the reddy. People like to give to a cripple; it makes them feel good about themselves. Then they walk away.’
Kate blinked away tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She would not let him see her pity. She knew him well enough to understand his fierce pride and independent spirit. She jumped as Miss Spalding’s bell jangled on its spring. ‘Oh, dear, is it that time already? She wants her food, I suppose.’
Boy opened the oven door and protecting his hands with a scrap of cloth he took out a pie, placing it carefully on the table. ‘This should keep her highness happy, and there’s enough for the devil upstairs when he comes home from robbing poor folk of their hard-earned money.’
‘I did well at market yesterday,’ Kate said, changing the subject. ‘But it’s you who’ve turned scrag end of mutton and some vegetables into a feast.’
‘You and me work well together,’ Boy said with a rueful grin. ‘I’ll miss you when you leave us, and she will too. The greedy bitch.’
‘Who says I’m leaving?’
‘You will. You ain’t no kitchen maid. I seen a few come and go since I been here and they ain’t like you. One day you’ll up and leave and I’ll be all on me own again with nothing but him between me and the workhouse. Sometimes I think I’d be better off back inside.’
Kate cut into the pie, putting a generous helping on two plates; one for Miss Spalding and the other for Josie, who might moan constantly about her lot, but at least
she
had a warm bed at night and one square meal a day. ‘I’ll just take this upstairs and then I’ll come down and we’ll eat together, Boy.’ She put the plates on a tray and headed for the doorway. She paused, turning her head to give him an encouraging smile. ‘Perhaps you’d like to go for a walk with me this afternoon. Miss Spalding has given me a list of things she needs from the shops, and I could do with some company.’
Boy’s eyes widened. ‘Me? You don’t mind being seen out with me?’
‘Of course not. Anyway, it’s bad for a boy of your age to be cooped up in this airless basement day in and day out.’ She glanced out of the window set high in the wall. She could just see a hint of blue sky. ‘It’s stopped raining for once. We could go across the common.’
‘Green grass,’ Boy said softly. ‘I often dream of green fields and trees. Sometimes in the summer I goes out in the crescent for a bit of fresh air, but then kids throw stones at me and people call me names and I comes back indoors out of sight.’
‘They won’t call you names today,’ Kate said firmly. ‘And if anyone throws a stone we’ll pick it up and toss it straight back at them.’ She had the satisfaction of hearing Boy’s laughter as she walked up the stairs.
With her rush basket over her arm and two shopping lists in her purse, one from Miss Spalding and the other from Nanny Barnes, Kate set off with Boy to visit the local shops and make the necessary purchases. The sun was shining from a peerless blue sky. Although it was still quite chilly it felt as though the savage bite
had
gone from winter and that spring might be on its way at last. Kate felt her spirits soar as they made their way back across the common. The ground was slightly soggy underfoot but that was a small price to pay for the scent of crushed grass and the gentle breeze blowing off the marshes. The noxious fumes from the chemical works, dye factories and tanneries on the other side of the River Lea seemed less noticeable on a day like this, but she felt a sudden longing for the rolling countryside of Dorset and the smell of the sea. She had held Boy’s hand while they walked the city streets, glaring at anyone who dared to poke fun at his deformity and murmuring words of comfort to him when she felt him falter. He turned to her, smiling for the first time since they had left the house, and loosened his hold on her hand. He gambolled forwards, running with a rolling gait through the tufts of grass like a young animal let loose for the first time.
Kate quickened her pace in an attempt to keep up with him, but she stopped suddenly as a crowd of gypsy children appeared from behind a clump of gorse bushes to surround Boy. She broke into a run, arriving at his side breathless and ready to defend him, but the children were silently appraising Boy, and he was staring back at them with his head held high.
Kate tugged at his sleeve. ‘Come, Boy. We’d best get home.’
He glanced up at her, his eyes filled with pain. ‘I have no home.’
‘What is this?’ The sound of a stern male voice made the children snap to attention.
Kate spun round, putting a protective arm around Boy’s thin shoulders, but she relaxed a little as she recognised the man who had saved her from the muggers. ‘Marko?’
He nodded his head. ‘You are the young lady who almost lost her purse to those cowards who attack defenceless women.’
‘And you saved me, for which I’m truly grateful. You disappeared before I had a chance to thank you properly.’
His stern features melted into a smile. ‘No thanks needed, miss.’ He turned to the children, waving his hands. ‘Shoo. Go to your mothers and see if they have any jobs for you.’ They scampered off towards a group of colourful caravans on the far side of the common. Spirals of blue smoke wafted skywards from camp fires and Kate could see the Romany women gathered together in small groups. She suffered an intense feeling of sadness as she saw the children run up to their mothers and were welcomed with hugs. That was something she would never experience again. She wondered if they realised how lucky they were to be part of a caring family and a close community. She looked down as she felt Boy tug at her hand.
‘We’d best get back,’ he muttered, eyeing Marko warily.
‘You need not fear me,’ Marko said as if reading his thoughts. ‘You will come to no harm from any of us.’
‘I ain’t afraid,’ Boy said stoutly. ‘I been beaten by a bigger chap than you, mister.’
‘That is not our way.’ Marko gave Kate a searching
look
. ‘You have fallen amongst bad people, miss. I can’t foretell the future like my wife and her mother, but I know that you are in the wrong place, as is this child.’ He tipped his cap and was about to walk away, but hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. ‘If you wish to consult my wife, Dena, you will find her in the red and gold painted vardo.’ He pointed to a caravan in the middle of the group. ‘We will be leaving soon, so don’t delay.’ He strolled off towards the encampment.
‘I told you,’ Boy said mysteriously. ‘You shouldn’t be waiting on that old woman. It ain’t right.’
Kate took him by the hand. ‘Life isn’t fair, Boy. That’s something I’ve learned the hard way. Let’s get back to the house. It’s going to rain unless I’m very much mistaken.’
That night, as she settled down to sleep on the floor in Nanny Barnes’ living room, with the dying embers of the fire giving up the last of their feeble warmth, the gypsy’s words came back to Kate. She had given them little thought during the afternoon as Miss Spalding had been more demanding than usual and Josie had gone off in a sulk and had not returned until supper time. She had refused to say where she had been even though Miss Spalding had scolded her severely, complaining that she had taken her in as a companion and that did not mean being left alone for hours on end. If Miss Damerell thought she was too high and mighty for the position, perhaps she ought to return to the family home where her megrims and tantrums would be tolerated. This diatribe had merely served to aggravate Josie’s ill humour and she had
vented
her feelings on Kate at the first opportunity. She closed her eyes recalling the angry scene.
‘It’s all your fault,’ Josie hissed, pinching Kate’s arm. ‘If you hadn’t taken that creature out for a walk this afternoon, she would have had her cucumber sandwiches on time and her wretched madeleines, or whatever they call those cake things, and I would have been able to escape for a few hours without incurring her anger.’
‘Ouch, that hurt.’ Kate rubbed her arm, glaring angrily at Josie. ‘You undertook to act as her companion in return for food and shelter. I’m the one who’s working hard to keep us and saving every penny I can towards our fare back to Dorset.’
‘Well, you needn’t bother much longer. I’m sick of being independent and I’ll never catch a husband while I’m stuck in this dreadful mausoleum with her. I’ve sent a telegram to my uncle, asking for funds so that I may return home. I’ve given in, Kate. I never thought I’d say that, but it’s done.’
Kate stared at her in dismay. She knew what it must have cost Josie to beg her uncle for money, and how it would hurt her pride to return home like a wayward schoolgirl who had chosen to play truant. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I really am, Josie.’
‘And you will come too. I’m not suffering the humiliation on my own.’
Kate opened her eyes, smiling to herself as she recalled Josie’s words. How typical of her that she rode roughshod over everyone and everything in her path in order to get her own way. It was
understood
that they must return to Dorset, but now there were others to consider. She could not bear the thought of leaving Boy to Wharton’s not so tender mercies, and then there was kindly, but slightly dotty, Nanny Barnes. What would happen to the old lady if she were left to fend for herself?
Several days later Kate had just arrived home, having been to market to purchase bread, vegetables and a bullock’s head, which Boy would make into a tasty stew. She was about to enter Cassland Crescent when she had to step back onto the pavement as a hansom cab drove past her, drawing to a halt outside the house. She quickened her pace, her curiosity aroused, but she stopped dead when she saw Harry Challenor alight from the carriage. She froze to the spot, wondering whether she could make it to the servants’ entrance without him seeing her, but it was a vain hope. Harry turned, as if sensing her presence and he smiled. ‘Good morning, Miss Coggins. At least I know that I’ve come to the right address.’
Her limbs felt leaden as she walked slowly towards him. ‘How did you know we were here?’
‘I paid a call on Sir Joseph at Damerell Manor. He had just received a telegram from Josie asking for his help. I was travelling to London anyway and I volunteered my services.’
‘And so you came to rescue her.’ Kate could not quite keep the note of disappointment from her voice. He must genuinely care for Josie or he would not have taken the trouble to seek her out.
‘I came to ensure that you both arrived home safely.’
‘How did you know that I was here? Did Josie mention me?’
‘On the contrary, she had convinced me that you had run away with your lover and were living with him in Weymouth.’ He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest. ‘I was a fool to believe it, but the man you were supposed to have eloped with was Loveday, and I happened to pass him in the lane close to the home farm. It was he who told me that you had gone to London with Josie, and that is why I went to see Sir Joseph.’
Kate stared at him nonplussed. ‘I don’t understand any of this. Why would Josie make up such a terrible lie?’
‘I suspect that it appealed to her sense of mischief and she was amusing herself at your expense. Anyway, it was all a misunderstanding, and now I’m here to take both of you home.’
She did not know whom she blamed the most: Josie for her childish and cruel attempt at ridding herself of a supposed rival, or Harry for believing her. Suddenly both of them seemed equally at fault. She drew herself up to her full height. ‘You don’t have to concern yourself with me, sir,’ she said with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘I have almost enough saved for the return train fare.’ It was a lie, but at this moment she did not want to have anything to do with either of them.