A Child's Voice Calling (22 page)

The case of the fifteen-year-old mother was to have a happy ending, thanks to Mabel’s intervention. She had quietly asked the girl where she lived and had written a letter to the parents at a place called Martyr’s Green, begging the mother to visit her
daughter and the tiny baby son who, Mabel wrote, was not likely to survive if sent to the babies’ home. The result had been beyond her best hopes, for not only the girl’s mother but her father and two older sisters had all arrived at the Rescue and after one look at the baby had decided to acknowledge him as their own, whatever was said in the village. And home they all went, a triumph of love over social convention. Mabel was jubilant: it seemed that Harry’s words had come true and she joyfully shared the happy news with him. He tried to advise her to be careful, but she could not resist quietly encouraging other girls with families to write their own letters home and tell their parents about their babies. ‘Tell yer mother how beautiful he is and how much yer love him,’ she would advise, or, ‘Say she’s the image o’ her grandmother, an’ got the family nose.’ She helped them with the spelling, bought stamps and posted the letters off. Her satisfaction with the successes was only lessened by the failures, when the pleading letters had not brought about a change of heart.

‘Hey, Mabel, yer grandmother’s askin’ to see yer, so ye’d better get over to Tooting before Christmas – don’t keep her waitin’ if she’s feelin’ generous!’

Mabel looked up at her father with a question in her eyes. ‘I don’t get that much free time, Dad, and when I do—’

She hesitated and Court correctly interpreted her shy little smile. ‘Yeah, there’s yer young man, I know. Well, get him to take yer over there – Mimi could give yer a helping hand if yer play yer cards right, girl.’ He gave her a knowing wink. ‘She wants to hear about this job o’ yours at the Institute – it’s in
her line o’ business, i’n’t it?’ He laughed good-humouredly. ‘She’ll probably tease yer about young Drover, but she could be a big help to both o’ yer, Mabel.’

As always, Mabel consulted Harry who felt that she should go, especially as he was to accompany her, and they walked over to Tooting on the Sunday afternoon preceding Christmas. Mimi Court received them graciously and a smartly dressed maid brought in the silver tea service on a trolley. Mabel and Harry sat together on a settee opposite her and she eyed them with a general air of approval. Yet Mabel felt the familiar sense of unease that always came over her in this house, even with Harry at her side.

‘So, Mabel, I hear ye’re learnin’ to be a midwife in a home for fallen women. Whoever would’ve thought it?’

‘I only assist the midwife sometimes, Grandmother, it’s not a proper trainin’,’ said Mabel hastily, accepting tea and cake. ‘I’m a nursery maid, but I get called to help in the delivery room an’ lying-in ward.’

‘Hm. They must think ye’ve got a good head on yer shoulders, then. And all the women are first-timers, which makes for long labours and more trouble all round. So yer get yer share o’ hand-holdin’ and back-rubbin’ while the midwives are at their tea and gossip, eh?’

Mabel could think of no reply to this, but Harry answered promptly. ‘They think the world o’ her at that Institute, Mrs Court.’

Mimi nodded to him, a gleam of amusement in her dark eyes, and turned again to Mabel. ‘But how d’ye like the work? Would ye care to take it up as I’ve done and have yer own practice one day?’

Mabel looked at Harry and answered firmly, ‘I told yer before, Grandmother, I’ve always wanted to look after children and I’m going to train as a nurse when I’m old enough, at a Poor Law infirmary.’

‘And what about Mr Drover here? Doesn’t he come into these plans somewhere?’

Mabel blushed deeply and again Harry answered for her. ‘One day when we’re both older, Mrs Court, when I’ve trained as a Salvation Army officer and Mabel’s a qualified nurse, we hope to serve the Lord together as a married couple in the Army. Mabel will be a great asset at one of the children’s homes or refuges, and . . . and I shall be at her side,’ he added with a loving glance at the girl of his dreams.

Mimi nodded again. ‘Yer got a long time to go before then. Tell me more about the Institute, Mabel. Yer still haven’t told me yet if yer like it. Do yer?’

Mabel hesitated. ‘I feel I’m doing useful work there, but it’s very upsettin’, those long labours, so painful. But it’s the agony o’ parting with their babies that’s the worst and breaks my heart.’

‘What happens to them? The babies, I mean?’

‘They go to a babies’ home at Merton, an’ some o’ them get adopted from there.’

‘But not all?’

‘Some go to children’s homes if they’ve got somethin’ wrong with ’em – like we had one with a harelip that went to a hospital for an operation.’

‘And the mothers go back to their homes as if nothin’ had happened?’

‘If they got homes, yes – only some go back into service if that’s where they came from.’

‘And everybody pretends there’s never been a baby at all, eh?’ Mimi’s eyes darkened with a look of contempt. ‘Hah! They make me laugh, these families
who think they can shrug orf their daughters’ little bastards, forget ’em, hide ’em away in homes – council homes, private homes, orphanages, Dr Barnardo’s, Waifs an’ Strays, homes for cripples, homes for imbeciles, Sunshine Homes for babies blinded by the clap – ugh, they make me sick!’

Her voice had become harsh, and Mabel looked at her in surprise, putting down her cup and glancing at Harry. ‘One or two o’ the girls
do
keep their babies, Grandmother, and get work as wet-nurses or find some woman who’ll look after the child while they go out to work.’

This innocent remark seemed to infuriate Mimi all the more. ‘Oh, yes? An’ what sort o’ work do they get, other than sucklin’ another woman’s child while their own goes short? There’s no respectable work, no decent place for a girl lumbered with a baby, believe me! An’ childminders more often than not take her hard-earned money an’ let the child starve or die o’ neglect. Oh, no, don’t give me sentimental claptrap about keepin’ their dear little babies, only to end up sellin’ ’emselves on the street – ’cause that’s what ’appens in the end, Mabel, yer can take it from me. An’ what’ve
you
got to say, Mr Drover?’

Harry stared down at his hands for a few minutes, then replied in a low tone, ‘Ye’re only too right, Mrs Court, in a large number o’ these sad cases. My sister Mrs Swayne, she’s a servin’ officer in the Salavation Army and, er, she sees—’ He left the rest of his remark unsaid, but the drift was clear enough.

Mimi rose from her seat and went to the window, her plump shoulders tensed in unusual agitation. As always in times of emotion of any kind, her would-be genteel accent deserted her. ‘’Ave yer ever asked yerself ’ow your girls at the Rescue came to need
rescuin’, Mabel? Babies don’t just turn up from nowhere, they ’ave to be planted. Do these girls ever tell yer ’oo the fathers were?’

‘Not as a rule. Matron knows but she doesn’t like it talked about,’ said Mabel, thinking of the morning and evening prayers led by Mrs James, the exhortation to the mothers to lead pure and blameless lives in the future, resisting all temptations to sin.

‘Well, I’ll tell yer, Mabel – and Mr Drover too if ’e doesn’t know already. ’Alf the fathers o’ the bastards delivered at that Rescue o’ yours are the ’usbands an’ sons o’ the families the poor girls work for, though there’s precious few admit as much.’ Mimi’s voice fairly shook with rage. ‘When it’s one o’ the menservants ’oo’s done the deed, a groom or a footman or some such, they don’t get orf so easy – they may ’ave to marry the girl if they want to keep their place. But when it’s young master, or old master, oh, dear me, no, the girl gets thrown out on ’er ear, an’ if she’s lucky she lands on the doorstep o’ the Rescue, poor little fool.’ She turned from the window and paced up and down the room, almost spitting out her words. ‘It’s the woman ’oo ’as to pay for the carelessness o’ the man, Mabel, every bloody time!’

Harry rose to his feet. ‘Ye’re not well, Mrs Court, an’ yer need to rest. I’ll take Mabel home—’

This seemed to bring Mimi back to a recollection of her duty as gracious hostess. She shook her head, frowned and waved a bejewelled hand to indicate that there was no need for them to leave. She took a couple of breaths to compose herself and rang the bell for the maid. Harry resumed his seat, looking anxiously at Mabel who sat with downcast eyes; she had never before seen her domineering grandmother in such a state of turmoil.

The maid appeared and Mimi demanded more hot water. When the girl had bobbed a curtsey and gone, she looked hard at Mabel. ‘Listen to me, my girl. I’d like to see yer make a good life for yerself. Ye’ve got Jack’s brains but more common sense. Albert’s a hothead and’ll end up gettin’ ’imself hanged, and I doubt George has got much upstairs, he’s ’is mother’s son. Alice is a pretty little thing who’ll find ’erself an ’usband ’oo can keep her decently, an’ Daisy’s only a child as yet. But
you’re
worth a helpin’ hand, Mabel. My offer to take yer on as my assistant at a pound a week and all found still stands, so if yer want to save some money while ye’re waitin’ to start yer trainin’ at nineteen or twenty, I’ll make a midwife o’ yer. But if ye’d rather stay at the Rescue for the pittance they pay, that’s up to you. What d’ye say?’

She looked hard at Mabel and Drover was conscious of a feeling of revulsion towards this woman. Every instinct warned him that his Mabel would be making a great mistake by putting herself under obligation to her. Mabel looked at him for guidance and he frowned. ‘It’d have to be your decision, Mabel.’

She nodded imperceptibly and turned to Mrs Court with her answer. ‘Well, er – thank yer, Grandmother, it’s good o’ yer,’ she said politely, ‘but I’d rather live at home and go to the Rescue.’

Mimi shrugged and curled her lip. ‘Suit yerself. Ye’re still only seventeen, plenty o’ time for yer to see sense an’ change yer mind. Let me know when yer do.’ Dismissing the subject, she turned to Harry. ‘And what d’yer parents think o’ yer young lady, Mr Drover?’

He coloured and hesitated. ‘They, er, think we’re
very young, but I shall never want any other girl but Mabel,’ he answered, using the very words he had used to them.

‘Hm. They sound as if they got a bit o’ sense, then – for Salvationists.’

Mabel looked pointedly at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece and drew on her gloves. ‘We’d better be goin’ now, Grandmother. Harry’s got a meetin’ and Mother expects me home for tea. It’s been good o’ yer to have us, an’ thank yer for yer offer.’

‘Ye’re a fool not to accept,’ said Mimi, getting up. ‘An’ before ye go, take this an’ get yerself some decent new clothes – yer look a proper frump in that old-fashioned coat an’ skirt.’ She pushed an envelope into Mabel’s hand. It turned out to contain ten pounds, nearly six months’ wages at the Rescue.

On their way to the front door Miss Lawton came softly down the stairs. She stopped when she saw them and Mabel smiled up at her from the hall. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Lawton.’

‘Er, oh, yes, thank you – good afternoon, M-Mabel and Mr er—’ stammered the pale, black-clad lady, turning to go back up the stairs.

‘Oh, come on down for Gawd’s sake if ye’re comin’,’ snapped Mimi irritably, adding under her breath as Miss Lawton sidled past them, ‘Give me strength! People’ll be thinkin’ this is some sort o’ private asylum on account o’ that one. Goin’ the same way as . . . as the old lady. She’ll end up talkin’ to the fairies, I shouldn’t wonder, an’ I’ll ’ave to pay nursin’ ’ome fees.’

Mabel did not answer. She had always felt sorry for Miss Lawton who seemed to lead a very lonely life, yet she gave the house a certain air of respectability which Mimi lacked, for all her ostentation.
Was this why Mimi tolerated her, Mabel wondered: eccentric though she was, Miss Lawton was at least a
lady
and never uttered an unkind word about anybody.

They caught the tram back to Battersea and there was not much opportunity for them to discuss the visit. Harry did not speak of his instinctive dislike of Mrs Court, though he told Mabel that he would far rather she continued working at the Rescue than move to 23 Macaulay Road, no matter how generous her grandmother’s offer.

‘I’m glad yer think so, Harry. I know me mother wouldn’t like it,’ she answered wryly.

He said goodbye to Mabel when they reached Sorrel Street, as he was due to play in the band that evening, and she went in to find the family seated round the fire. Annie was smiling trustfully at Jack who seemed to be in a better frame of mind lately, though he could suddenly swing round to bursts of ill temper for no obvious reason.

As soon as she and Annie were alone in the kitchen Mabel knew that her mother would demand to know what had passed between her daughter and mother-in-law. ‘Out with it, Mabel, what did she have to say this time?’

Mabel felt a little irritated by this interrogation. ‘She asked me about the Rescue and if I enjoyed workin’ there – how much I was paid—’

‘Cheek! Go on. What else did she want to know? Come on, there was more to it than that.’

‘Well, Mum, at least she showed some interest in my work, and asked about the mothers an’ babies, which is more ’n you do,’ Mabel pointed out.

Annie flushed. ‘I don’t like that sort o’ talk in front o’ your sisters and George. So did she want to know
every unpleasant intimate detail? And in front o’ Harry Drover?’

Mabel rolled up her eyes in exasperation. ‘No, Mum, she offered to take me on at a pound a week an’ all found, to be her assistant. That’s what she said in front o’ Harry, if yer must know. She said I could take me time and think about it. And there’s nothin’ else to tell, so there’s no need for yer to be so funny about it.’

But Annie’s eyes were blazing. ‘I won’t have you under any such obligation, d’you hear me? Not to
her
, I won’t!’

‘But Mum, she only made an offer to help me on in my career—’

‘But don’t you know what she
does
, Mabel? Good grief, you must know something o’ the ways o’ the world, working at that place!’ Annie cried. ‘Don’t you know what she
is
?’

‘She’s a
midwife
, Mum! She delivers babies, mostly to women who can pay her well,’ protested Mabel, completely bewildered.