A Child's Voice Calling (28 page)

Mabel gave a watery smile as she dismissed the chaperone, but Harry refused to leave her, so while she settled down on the sofa, he and Albert stretched out on the floor with cushions under their heads. They dozed fitfully, aroused by the slightest sound that broke the troubled night, clinging to the flickering hope that Annie Court would return to her home in the morning.

The first day of May dawned clear and bright. Mabel had fallen into a doze when Alice came down,
pale and puffy-eyed, to start making tea again and cutting bread for breakfast.

They were all seated at the table – Mabel, Albert, Alice, George, Daisy and Harry – when the knock sounded at the door just before eight.

‘It’ll be Dr Knowles,’ said Mabel quickly, though she had no real reason to believe so.

Albert told her to stay where she was while he answered the door. It was indeed the doctor, accompanied by one of the police officers they had seen before.

‘Ye’d better come in,’ they heard him say and Mabel rose, instinctively gesturing to Alice to take the children out to the kitchen.

Dr Knowles put his arm round her shoulder as the officer informed her and Albert that the body of a woman resembling the description of Anna-Maria Court had been taken from the Thames at low tide, near to Greenwich Pier. Her age, colouring and clothing corresponded to the details on the police file, but positive identification was needed.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no
. Mabel heard a low moaning sound and found that it was coming from herself, her own mouth. Harry’s hands were holding hers as she lurched against the doctor.

The policeman was saying that the body was lying in the public morgue attached to St Katharine’s Infirmary near Tower Hill.

‘That was where they held
you
, Albert,’ Mabel murmured inconsequentially.

And it was to that chilly, white-tiled place that Mabel was obliged to go as next of kin in the absence of her father, accompanied by her doctor and her dearest friend, Harry Drover. Albert insisted on coming with
them, saying that he was the man of the house and had a right. They all stood with her, waiting with bated breath when the aproned attendant drew back the sheet.

What did they see? Mabel never forgot that last sight of her mother’s face, mottled blue and grey, the mouth agape with sagging purple lips. Drowned eyes, half open, held no sense of repose, no peace, only the blankness of death; but beyond doubt this was the body of Anna-Maria Court, so the last faint hope was gone.

Mabel leapt backwards with a jerk as a terrible despair rose within her, bursting forth in a great shriek. Dr Knowles, used to witnessing death and grief, tightened his hold upon her and Harry spoke her name, ‘Mabel – Mabel, I’m here, my love.’

But Albert felt his blood run cold – for a split second he thought the cry came from the corpse. ‘Christ,’ he muttered, and for a moment he could not draw breath and swayed on his feet.

Within seconds Mabel regained control of herself, but felt faint and nauseated. With shaking limbs she let Knowles and Harry support her on either side and lead her out of that death-cold place.

There were formalities to be gone through and forms to be signed by Mabel and the doctor, confirming identification of the body. When they were free to go, Albert suddenly turned to the doctor, grabbing his jacket lapels. ‘Why’d she do it, tha’s what I wanna know! What the bloody ’ell did yer tell ’er – that she ’ad cancer or summat?’

‘Stop that, Albert, take yer hands off this minute,’ ordered Harry, though the doctor did not attempt to resist the gripping hands.

‘I couldn’t lie to her, Albert,’ he said heavily. ‘I said
it
might
be serious, that’s all. I’m so very sorry for you all, more than I can say.’

‘Tha’s all very well, but yer didn’t ’ave to scare ’er to deaf! It was ’cause o’ what yer told ’er she went an’ drahned ’erself!’ shouted Albert.

‘Cut it out, Albert,’ Harry said with quiet authority. ‘Think o’ yer sister Mabel an’ all she’s had to go through – just pull yerself together.’

Albert lapsed into gloomy silence as they returned to Sorrel Street, where the news had to be broken to Alice, George and Daisy that their mother had fallen into the Thames and drowned. Daisy and George began to cry bitterly, and Mrs Bull drew the curtains to signify a house in mourning. The news quickly spread all over their part of Battersea that the Court children no longer had a mother and everybody wondered what Mabel would do.

First she had to deal with the grief of them all, particularly the two youngest who could not take in that they would never see their mother again. She had to be there for them, answering their questions as best she could, with no opportunity to do her own grieving over Annie Court’s tragically shortened life and whatever had driven her towards her death on that fatal afternoon. All Mabel’s attention had to be centred on the bereaved children.

And here was Dr Knowles again, with something else to tell her. ‘Mabel, my dear, you may remember me saying that I was going to arrange for a blood test for your mother.’

Mabel looked up at him wearily and shrugged. Why mention that now?

‘And although I’m sorry to intrude on your sorrow, my dear, I must tell you that you need a similar test, as you were in close contact with her.’

‘
What
?’ Mabel could not believe her ears, for in her experience blood tests were only done on very ill people. ‘D’ye mean I’ve got to go to hospital for it?’

‘No, no, Mabel, there’s no need for that, I can do it at my surgery tomorrow – we only need about a teaspoonful of clotted blood. And to be on the safe side, I think I should also take blood samples from Alice, George and Daisy.’

‘But whatever
for
, Dr Knowles?’

‘Your poor mother may have had a bacterial infection and we need to know if it was passed on to others living in the house, you see. I don’t think we need bother to include Albert.’

Mabel stared in horror as a thought struck her. ‘Oh, my God, yer mean TB!’

‘No, my dear, not TB, but it carries a similar danger and the sooner we get the matter cleared up the better. Tomorrow, then, in my surgery, shall we say about three o’clock?’

It proved to be a wretched experience, as Daisy screamed at the very sight of the needle and George turned deathly white when the doctor failed to find a vein in his arm on the first attempt. Alice was also upset and so was Knowles himself, for the possibility of any of the younger ones being infected was almost nil. He was sorry to submit them to it, but wanted to avoid appearing to single out Mabel.

‘How long will it take before we know if we’ve got it, Dr Knowles?’ she asked.

‘About a week – but I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, Mabel, it’s just a precaution.’

He did not add that the four specimens would have to be sent to the Lock Hospital, nor that he was personally paying for the relatively new and expensive Wasserman test to be carried out on each of
them. ‘You won’t be going to the Institute again until after the . . . the inquest and then the funeral, Mabel, so the result will be back before you resume work. I’ll have a word with the Matron if there are any queries,’ he told her, hoping against hope for a negative result.

Messages of sympathy began to pour in. From the Agnes Nuttall Institute came a formal, rather stilted letter of condolence from Mrs James, and notes written on scraps of paper by the mothers. Miss Carter wrote from the Hallam Road Babies Mission and a card arrived from Mr Munday at the Queen’s Road post office, also signed by ‘Beatrice Chatt’.

The vicar of St Philip’s church called to express his shocked sympathy and proved to be genuinely kind. Arrangements for a quiet funeral at Wandsworth cemetery were tenatively discussed – ‘and of
course
she’ll be buried in consecrated ground, my dear.’ His visit was followed by one from Ada Clay whose wedding was planned for June, though she hesitated even to mention this happy event when she came to offer her sympathy and Arthur’s.

The police now began a search for Jack Court, making enquiries at various places he had been known to frequent. His one-time crony Dick Sammons, now a prosperous publican and respectable family man, said he had not seen poor old Jack for over a year and Bill from Macaulay Road firmly denied all knowledge of his former drinking companion of the turf.

On the Thursday Harry returned to the railway depot where he had another four months to work, though he found time to call at Sorrel Street every
day. Albert had permission to stay until after the funeral and Alice was likewise allowed to stay off work. George and Daisy were excused school, though Mabel privately thought they would be better occupied there than in the mournful atmosphere of home. She therefore sent them out to the park with Alice, so only she and Albert were at home when Mimi Court arrived, pale and grim-faced.

‘Well, here’s a fine how-d’ye-do, Mabel, I never thought she’d do such a thing,’ she began and Mabel was silenced by her haggard face. There was no doubt that she was truly shocked and she had an air of disillusionment about her, as if all she had striven for had come to nothing. Yet she had not lost her domineering manner. ‘Here, Mabel—’ She opened her black velvet purse-string reticule and took out an envelope. ‘Ye’ll find twenty-five pounds in banknotes there. Take it, ye’ll need it.’

Mabel stared at the very thought of such an amount. ‘Oh, I couldn’t take that much, Grandmother.’

‘Yer can’t afford to turn down good money. Take it.’ Mimi put the envelope on the table.

Albert whistled. ‘Go on, Mabel, yer can do wiv it.’

‘And ye’re goin’ to have to think about the future, Mabel – what ye’re goin’ to do,’ Mimi went on. ‘Yer can’t make any decisions until the funeral’s over – an’ that’ll have to be paid for – but yer might as well start thinkin’ about placin’ the children.’

‘What d’ye mean,
placing
them, Grandmother?’ asked Mabel, thinking of the babies at the Rescue. ‘What about Dad, he’ll have some say, won’t he?’

Mimi’s expression was bleak. ‘He’ll be away for some time. He’s got troubles that’ve got to be seen to.’

‘Yer bet yer bleedin’ life ’e’s got trouble!’ Albert burst out. ‘Our muvver’s only gorn an’ drahned ’erself on account o’ trouble!’

Mimi eyed him with distaste. ‘Ye’ll have to leave yer father out o’ yer calculations for the time bein’. And I’ll tell yer now, ye’ll have to get out o’ this house.’

Since the horrors of the past day and night, Mabel had scarcely given a thought to their future. It occurred to her that the threat of poverty that had always lurked in the background of their lives might now have to be faced squarely. She glanced at Albert to command silence from him, then gave her full attention to their grandmother. ‘I . . . we appreciate yer coming, Grandmother, and the money. Please go on and say what ye’ve come to say.’

‘Thank yer, I’m sure,’ said Mimi tartly. ‘Well, to start with, you and yer sisters Alice and Daisy can come to live at Macaulay Road. I need an assistant to help with the midwifery, as yer know, and Alice can get work at the main post office in Tooting. Daisy can go to the church school in Church Lane, much better ’n that place in Hallam Road.’

Mabel’s gasp of disbelief was followed by Albert’s low mutter. ‘That ain’t a bad offer, Mabel, don’t turn it dahn out o’ hand.’

‘And with Albert in the merchant service, p’raps George could join him on that, er, ship at Greenhithe.’

‘But he’s only twelve and still at school!’ cried Mabel.

‘’Sides, ’e’s much too soft for the navy,’ Albert cut in. ‘Be the butt o’ every bully on board, they’d ’ave ’im for their breakfuss!’

‘In that case there’s an excellent Dr Barnardo home
for boys in Clapham,’ said Mimi, who had obviously been making her own contingency plans. ‘It’s run by a Mr Maillard who trains the boys for—’

‘
What
? George in a
home
?’ Mabel was by now unable to believe her ears.

‘Well, yes, why not? I can take you three girls, but there’s no room for a boy, an’ besides, George’d be better orf with other boys.’

This was too much for Mabel. ‘I beg yer pardon, Grandmother, but until I hear somethin’ from me father, we shall all stay together
here
!’

‘Oh, yes, madam? I’ll be interested to know what ye’ll use for money, then. Who d’yer think’s paid the rent for this place, more often than not? As I said, ye’ll ’ave to get out of it.’

Mabel felt that it was time to speak plainly and ask what Mimi Court knew. ‘That’ll depend on what Dad says when he turns up again. Yer seem to know somethin’ about him that we don’t, Grandmother – can’t yer tell us where he is?’

‘Yeah, is there goin’ to be anuvver body dredged up out o’ the river?’ demanded Albert.

There was a long pause. A look of blank desolation passed over Mimi’s face, but she answered without faltering. ‘I haven’t come over ’ere to be questioned about me son’s business, an’ yer can keep a civil tongue in yer ’ead, Albert. Yer may
look
like Jack, but yer was never ’is equal in manners.’ She heaved herself up and smoothed her skirt with a black-gloved hand. ‘I’ll see meself out, don’t trouble yerselves – an’ yer can be thinkin’ over what I’ve said, Mabel. Good mornin’.’ And without further leave-taking, she took herself off, though without her usual aplomb; from the back she looked like an old
woman and Mabel remembered that she was now over sixty.

‘I’d dearly love to refuse her money,’ she muttered, looking at the envelope on the table.

‘Bloody ’ell, Mabel, beggars can’t be choosers,’ said Albert with a grimace. ‘If the Duchess o’ Tootin’s willin’ to ’elp us out, yer can’t be too prahd, can yer?’

Mabel turned down the corners of her mouth at hearing him echo her own thoughts. She remembered that long-ago occasion when she and her mother had confronted Mimi with Jack’s improvidence and they’d accepted her two ten shilling notes. Now she must accept twenty-five times that amount and be thankful.

‘It might not be such a bad idea, yer know,’ Albert went on. ‘George an’ Daisy got to ’ave a roof over their ’eads an’ food in their bellies, an’ money don’t grow on trees. The girls’ll do well enough at Macaulay Road—’