A Mother's Courage (13 page)

She found Dr Robinson and Gladys sitting at
the kitchen table drinking tea and munching on
slices of fruit cake. Joss was on the floor playing
with a mongrel puppy and Beth was attempting
to crawl, but was hindered by her long nightgown.
Their swift recovery from what could
have been a fatal illness seemed like a miracle to
Eloise, and she smiled to see them looking so
well and happy.

'Ah, Mrs Cribb, good news,' Dr Robinson said,
getting to his feet. 'Both Joss and Beth are doing
so well that, in a day or two, you will be able to
continue your journey without fear of prejudicing
their recovery.'

'That's wonderful,' Eloise said, smiling.
'Thank you so much, Dr Robinson. You've been
so kind and I'm truly grateful.'

He made a deprecating noise and shook his
head. 'All in the line of duty, Mrs Cribb.'

'Well, I for one am not happy,' Gladys said
with a mock frown. 'For it means I shall have to
say goodbye to my little ducks, and to Ellie, who
has become almost like a daughter to me.'

'I can never thank you enough, Gladys,' Eloise
said, taking off her bonnet and shawl and
hanging them on a wooden peg behind the door
alongside the family's outdoor clothes. 'You
have made us feel so much at home. I will miss
you very much, but I must return to London.'

'There is someone else who will be more than
sorry to see you go, Ellie,' Gladys said with a
knowing wink. 'I think our Reggie might have
something to say to you, if the great lummox can
find the right words, although what poor Maud
will make of it, heaven only knows.'

Dr Robinson picked up his top hat and gloves.
'I must be going. Thank you for the tea and
cake, Gladys.' He turned to Eloise with a hint of
a smile. 'I shan't need to call again, so I'll wish
you good fortune and a safe journey back to
London.'

'Thank you, doctor. Thank you for everything.'
Eloise stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his
bewhiskered cheek.

He looked slightly taken aback and a genuine
smile lit his normally sombre grey eyes. 'You are
a brave young woman, Mrs Cribb. It has been a
privilege to know you.' As he went out through
the door he was almost bowled over by Meg,
closely followed by Ada. Both of them were
dishevelled and giggling uncontrollably.

Gladys leapt to her feet. 'Good heavens! Just
look at the state of you two. What a pair indeed.
Go back outside and clean the mud off your
boots. You can wash your hands too before you
come back in my nice clean kitchen.'

Ada hung her head and her mouth drooped at
the corners. 'You won't beat me, will you,
missis?'

'Lord, what a thing to say. As if I would do
such a thing. Meg, take the poor soul outside and
help her to wash. And don't smirk, lass. You're
just as bad as she is, and you ought to know
better.' Gladys flopped down on her chair and
refilled her cup with tea from the pot. 'Those two
are a right pair when they get together. You'd
think they were sisters, the daft things.'

Eloise scooped Beth up in her arms and
hugged her. 'Sisters! Ada is old enough to be
Meg's mother.' She stopped short, shocked at the
thought that had crossed her mind as she met
Gladys's startled gaze. 'No, that's impossible. It
couldn't be, could it?'

Gladys took a mouthful of tea and swallowed
convulsively. 'By heck, you know it's just
possible, Ellie. We took Meg from an orphanage
close to Bridlington, and they had no knowledge
of her parentage. She were just left on the
doorstep like a bundle of washing when she
were only a few days old. Sadly, it's quite
commonplace.'

'And sadly we'll never know for sure,' Eloise
said, nuzzling Beth's curly blonde hair. 'Poor
Ada, she's had such a hard life. I just hope I can
give her a better one.'

A yelp from Joss made Eloise spin round just in
time to see the puppy backing away from him
and uttering comical little attempts at barking.
Joss held out his hand where a small scratch was
oozing tiny droplets of crimson blood. 'Bad
puppy,' Joss sobbed. 'Bad boy hurt Joss.'

Laughing, Eloise passed Beth to Gladys and
she picked Joss up in her arms. 'I think it might
have been a bad boy who pulled Puppy's tail.'
She wiped the tiny spots of blood away with her
finger. Once again she had no pocket handkerchief
and she smiled at the thought of what her
mother would say. She kissed the injured spot on
Joss's hand. 'Kiss it better, Joss. And beware of
puppies with needle-sharp teeth and claws in the
future.'

'It's a lesson well learnt,' Gladys said,
chuckling. 'He'll not make that mistake again.'
Her smile faded and she heaved a great sigh. 'Eh,
but I shall miss you and the little ones when you
go, Ellie. That's God's honest truth. Won't you
reconsider, lass? I mean there's plenty of room in
this old house now the girls have upped and
married. And I know someone who would more
than welcome you to stay on. You might even
come to like our Reggie if you got to know him
better.'

'I do like Reggie,' Eloise said gently. 'I like him
very much, but it's less than a year since my
husband died, and I doubt if I could ever love a
man as I loved Ronnie. We must leave here,
Gladys, and perhaps it would be best if it were
sooner rather than later.'

'I see that your mind is made up, Ellie. I won't
argue with you, lass.'

That night, when Ada and the children were
asleep, Eloise took her suitcase and valise from
beneath the bed and began packing their things.
She awakened early next morning and went to
wake Ada, but she would not be roused. It only
took a few seconds for Eloise to realise that Ada
was extremely unwell, a fact which Dr Robinson
confirmed when he visited later that morning.
Ada had contracted measles, and there was no
question now of them leaving until she was well
again. Measles was a much more serious disease
in adults, Dr Robinson said with a worried
frown, and Ada's constitution was not robust.
Eloise, Gladys and Meg took turns in sitting by
Ada's bedside in the small back bedroom where
Reggie had carried her on the first day of her
illness. Eloise read to Ada from her book of fairy
tales, and Meg chattered on about seemingly
nothing, but the sound of her voice seemed to
soothe Ada even at the height of her fever.
Gladys made nourishing broths and milk puddings
to tempt the invalid's appetite, but all to no
avail.

Eloise was beside herself with worry, and
when Dr Robinson came out of the sickroom one
morning, shaking his head, she challenged him
to tell her the truth.

'I'm afraid that Ada has pneumonia. It is one of
the complications of measles, especially in adults
such as Ada who were not of a very robust
constitution in the first place.'

Shocked and barely able to believe what she
heard, Eloise clutched his arm. 'She's – she's not
going to die, is she, doctor?'

'It's in God's hands now, my dear Mrs Cribb.
I've done everything in my power to save her,
but we just have to hope and pray.'

'She won't die,' Eloise said, gritting her teeth. 'I
won't let her die. She will get better. She will.'

Eloise had been up all the previous night, sitting
by Ada's bedside, alternately holding her hand
and telling her what they would do, where they
would go and the sights they would see in
London. When she ran out of things to say, she
read out loud the stories that she now knew
almost by heart, even though she doubted
whether Ada could hear her. She had lapsed into
a semi-comatose state, her cheeks were deathly
pale and her breathing had become shallow. Dr
Robinson had warned them that the end was
near and Eloise was already grieving for the
child woman who had become her dear friend.
Although she was most reluctant to leave Ada's
bedside, Gladys had insisted on taking over the
vigil at dawn, assuring Eloise that Meg would be
only too happy to relieve her when she came in
from the dairy.

Eloise went to her room intending only to have
a brief rest on her bed, but she must have fallen
asleep as she was awakened abruptly by the
sound of voices outside her bedroom door. She
leapt out of bed, still drugged with sleep, but
desperate to speak to Dr Robinson, whose deep
tones were now so familiar. She opened her door
and found him out on the landing talking to
Gladys, who was mopping her eyes on her
apron.

'She's not . . .' Eloise couldn't say the dreadful
word. 'Doctor?'

'We were going to wake you,' Dr Robinson
said gravely. 'I'm afraid it won't be long now.'

Gladys clutched Eloise's arm. 'Meg is with her,
lass. Our Reggie is keeping an eye on the little
ones downstairs. We'd best go in before it's too
late.'

Moving like a sleepwalker, Eloise followed
Gladys and Dr Robinson into Ada's tiny room
where she lay on the bed looking like a wax doll,
with her long limbs stiff and still beneath the
white counterpane. Meg was leaning over the
bed, holding Ada's hand and speaking to her in
a soft crooning voice as she begged her to fight
for her life. She raised her tearstained face to cast
an agonised look at Eloise and Gladys. 'She's
slipping away. I can barely hear her breathing.'

'Oh, Ada,' Eloise murmured, her voice
hitching on a sob. 'Don't leave us, dear Ada.'

Gladys gave her arm a comforting squeeze.
'She looks so peaceful.'

Ada's almost transparent eyelids fluttered
open and her gaze focused on Meg's face. Eloise
held her breath as she saw a flicker of recognition
in Ada's pale eyes, followed by a ghost of a smile
as a long drawn out sigh escaped from her lips.
Her eyes closed and she was still.

Meg uttered a cry of anguish and buried her
head in her arms as sobs racked her thin body.

Gladys hugged Eloise, holding her tightly. 'At
least she'll be able to find the babe she's been
searching for in heaven, Ellie.'

'I think she's already found her,' Eloise whispered.
'I think Ada knew it too, at the very last.'

Although Frank had ridden into Driffield to send
a telegraph to Cribb's Hall, advising them of
Ada's death and the date and time of the funeral,
there had been no reply forthcoming and Eloise
was the only family member present as Ada's
coffin was lowered into her grave. It was a
beautiful sunny day and warm for the beginning
of May. The clear blue sky was cloudless and the
air was filled with birdsong, which almost
drowned out the sound of clods of earth raining
on the coffin and Meg's heartbroken keening.

Eloise had no tears left to shed now, and she
dropped a small posy of violets onto the scattered
earth. 'Goodbye, dear Ada,' she whispered
softly.

Gladys bent down to lift Meg from her knees.
'Come along, lass. We must get you home.'

Frank put his cloth cap back on his head. His
Sunday best suit was a little too tight for him and
the buttons barely met over his portly belly. He
looked hot and uncomfortable as he ran his
finger round the inside of his starched shirt
collar. 'Poor lass,' he murmured.

Eloise was not sure whether he meant Meg or
Ada, but she nodded her head in agreement.
Jacob and his pretty fiancee, Clara, stood on the
far side of the grave with Dr and Mrs Robinson.
Apart from Reggie, who was standing close to
Eloise, they were the only mourners at the simple
service. The vicar murmured a few words of
comfort and then walked away with his surplice
flapping like the wings of a great white seagull as
he returned to the church.

Gladys and Frank led the sobbing Meg down
the path to the road where they had left the pony
and trap. With his wife on his arm, Dr Robinson
came over to speak to Eloise. 'I'm so sorry for
your loss, Mrs Cribb.'

'I am too,' Hannah said, adding hastily, 'I
mean I only met the young woman once, but it's
very sad, my dear.'

'Thank you,' Eloise murmured. 'I shall miss
Ada very much.'

Dr Robinson nodded his head. 'You will be
returning to London now, I suppose?'

'Yes, there's nothing to keep us here any
longer. We will be leaving in the morning.'

As the doctor and his wife moved away,
followed closely by Jacob and Clara, who were
arm in arm and in a world all of their own,
Reggie cleared his throat as if to remind Eloise of
his presence. 'Must you go so soon, Ellie?'

'I must, I'm afraid. I have a living to earn,
Reggie.'

'Come on, lass,' Frank called from the driver's
seat of the trap. 'We should be getting back to the
farm.'

'I'm coming.' Eloise waved to him and began
walking, giving Reggie no alternative but to keep
up with her.

'You could stay here,' Reggie said, covering
her hand with his as it rested on his arm. 'You
don't have to work, Ellie. I would look after you
and the young 'uns. If you'd let me.'

'Don't, Reggie. Please . . .'

He drew her clumsily to a halt. 'I must say it,
lass. I can't let you go without telling you that I –
I love you, Ellie. Marry me, and I swear I'll make
you happy.'

'Oh, Reggie!' Eloise raised her hand to stroke
his weathered cheek and her eyes brimmed with
tears. 'I know you mean it, and you are the most
splendid fellow. But there is someone else who is
far more deserving of your love than me.'

'I know you're talking about Maud, but that
were never an official engagement. She'll understand.'

Eloise shook her head. 'I don't think she will,
Reggie.'

'I'm a patient man, Ellie. I know you still love
your husband, but he's dead and gone. I'm here
and alive and I love you. Won't you stay just a bit
longer and give me a chance to prove myself to
you?'

'Hurry up, you two,' Frank shouted impatiently.
'Farm won't run itself.'

'And we shouldn't leave old Ma Baker on her
own with the babes for too long,' Gladys added.
'She's a bit forgetful at times.'

Eloise drew her hand away. 'I must go. My
children – I'm sorry, Reggie. I just can't . . .' She
picked up her skirts and ran down the path to
climb into the trap. As Frank flicked the reins
and encouraged the old horse to plod onwards,
Eloise stared straight ahead of her. She could not
bear to look back to see the anguish on Reggie's
face. He was a good man, and a kind one, but she
did not love him and she was desperate now to
return to London where she had been happy
once, and would be again. Of that she was
certain.

As Eloise stepped off the train onto the platform
at Euston, she breathed in the fuggy city air with
a sigh of relief. Not for her were the rolling wolds
of Yorkshire, the biting east winds and the fruity
smell of damp earth, or even the mellow
countryside of her childhood Dorset. This
bustling, dirty place with its polyglot crowds
and frenetic pace of living was her home. Despite
their uncertain future, she realised suddenly that
she only felt truly alive in London. Her heart and
mind were here and the ghosts from the past
were comforting rather than frightening. She
braced her shoulders and gave Joss an
encouraging smile as he clung to her, gazing
nervously around, wide-eyed and obviously
scared by the bustling populace and the earsplitting
noise of the great iron monsters letting
off steam.

Eloise beckoned to a porter who trundled his
trolley over to her and tipped his cap.
'Afternoon, ma'am.'

'My luggage is on the rack,' Eloise said,
hoisting Beth over her shoulder and gripping
Joss firmly by the hand. 'If you would be so kind
as to lift it down?'

'Certainly, ma'am. Is someone meeting you, or
would you like me to find you a cab?'

Eloise hesitated. She knew to the last farthing
how much she had in her purse, and she had
carefully calculated how far it would stretch, but
she had forgotten things like tipping a porter and
the hire of a cab to take her to Myrtle Street.
Nonetheless, it was too far to walk and she
certainly could not manage suitcases and two
small children and so she nodded, saying with
confidence, 'A cab, please.'

As she followed the porter and his trolley
along the crowded platform and through the
busy main concourse, Eloise felt suddenly
daunted and very small and insignificant in the
scheme of things. During the past few months
she had grown accustomed to the slower pace of
life in the countryside, and now she was
suddenly nervous. Her plan was to stay with the
Higgins family until she had found work. She
had had no qualms about arriving unannounced
on their doorstep, although now she was actually
here, she was not quite so sure of herself. Fanny
was her friend and she often took in a lodger or
even two to make ends meet. Of course there
would be a welcome for them; how could she
possibly doubt it?

'There you are, ma'am,' the porter said, having
hefted her cases into the cab. He stood there,
looking at her expectantly.

Eloise fumbled in her purse and gave him a
generous tip. It hurt her to part with the money,
but the man probably had a wife and children to
support, and his need was as great as her own.
He gave her a broken-toothed grin. 'Let me help
you, ma'am.' With his hand beneath her elbow,
he helped her climb into the cab, and then he
tipped his hat again and shambled off pushing
his trolley.

'Where to, missis?'

'Myrtle Street, please, cabby. Number fourteen.'

As she settled herself against the leather squabs,
Eloise wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale cigar
smoke mixed with the familiar odours of the
filthy streets. Beth had fallen asleep on her
shoulder but Joss was bouncing up and down on
the seat. He had slept for most of the journey and
was now refreshed and full of life. Any moment
he would start asking for food, and Beth would be
hungry too when she woke up. Eloise hoped that
Fanny would have a pot of soup simmering on
the hob. She had eaten nothing since breakfast,
and then had only nibbled a piece of toast. Her
parting with the Danbys had been tearful on all
sides, and she was already missing them more
than she would have thought possible. She had
left Fanny's address with them and had promised
to write as soon as she was settled. Suddenly the
enormity of her undertaking crowded in on her
and she shivered. Had she made a terrible
mistake by returning to London? Eloise tried hard
to be positive. At least she would be here when
Mama and Papa finally returned from Africa.
Tomorrow, when they were settled at Fanny's
house, she would go to the Missionary Society's
headquarters and give them her address. They
might have news of her parents, and she would
give them the letters she had written over the past
few weeks to forward to the mission in Kenya.
She leaned back, closing her eyes. Everything
would come right in the end. Janet always said
that, and she was invariably right.

'We're here, missis.'

Eloise opened her eyes with a start. Joss had
curled up beside her and it seemed that they had
both dozed off. He awakened with a start and
was attempting to get out of the cab when the
cabby jumped down to help them alight. Oh
dear, Eloise thought grimly as she climbed down
from the cab, another person who wants a tip.
She paid their fare and tipped him, though not
too generously. She put her purse away and
hesitated for a moment, with Beth in her arms
and Joss clinging to her skirts as if he was
suddenly afraid. She glanced up and down the
once familiar street, but to her surprise she felt
like a stranger. The house which had been her
home for the three short years of her married life
looked identical to the other dwellings in this
shabby street. There was nothing about its
appearance to mark it out as having once been
her home. It had seemed like heaven when she
first moved in with Ronnie. She had not noticed
the peeling paintwork then, or the run down
neighbourhood with lines of washing strung
across the street like pennants and the mangy
curs fighting over scraps of food, or even the
barefoot, lice-ridden children who hung about in
doorways. Life had been so exciting in those far
off days, and she had looked at everything
through the eyes of a young woman very much
in love. Now she was viewing things quite
differently. She was a woman alone with two
tiny children who depended upon her for everything.
Once she had had a loving, if unpredictable,
husband and her parents had been close at
hand. Now she was very much on her own.

'Hungry, Mama,' Joss cried, tugging at her
skirts and bringing her abruptly back to the
present.

'And you will have something to eat very soon,
darling,' Eloise said soothingly. She took a deep
breath and knocked on Fanny's door. She
listened for the sound of children's voices and
the clatter of hobnails on the bare floorboards,
but the house was unnaturally silent. She
knocked again and this time there was an
answering shuffle as someone padded across the
floor. The torn and filthy net curtain fluttered
and then hung limply. Eloise felt a gnawing fear
growling in her belly. Fanny had always kept the
house spotlessly clean. She would have died
rather than allow her much darned nets to get in
that state. The door opened and a complete
stranger stood there, glaring at her. 'No hawkers,
tinkers or diddicoys wanted.' The woman was
about to slam the door in her face, but Eloise was
too quick for her and she stuck her booted foot
over the doorsill.