A Mother's Courage (17 page)

'I'm a man of my word, Ephraim,' Mr Collins
said piously. 'May I introduce Mrs Eloise Cribb,
the young widow of whom we spoke earlier?'

'Yes, yes, you have done so, but there's no need
to shout. I may suffer from gout but I'm neither
deaf nor senile.'

Mr Collins turned to Eloise with a vague smile.
'Mr Hubble has a wonderful sense of humour.
I'm sure you two will get along splendidly.'

'I haven't said I'd take her on yet, Collins,'
Ephraim snapped, leaning forward to stare at
Eloise with piercing green eyes. 'Come here, girl.
Let me look at you. And put the baby down on a
chair or something. Collins, you take the boy and
keep him quiet while I talk to his mother.'

Mr Collins blinked but he did as he was told
and went to sit on a rickety chair, holding out his
hand and offering to peel an orange for Joss, who
toddled over to him trustingly with a piece of
fruit clutched in his small hands.

Eloise had disliked Ephraim Hubble on sight,
but she was desperate for work and a place to
stay and she could not afford to offend a
prospective employer. Reluctantly, she moved
closer to the old man. 'How do you do, Mr
Hubble?'

'Oh, it's a lady, is it? You didn't tell me that,
Collins.'

'I told you that Mrs Cribb's father was my predecessor,
Ephraim. Have you forgotten already?'

'I haven't forgotten, you psalm-singing
pedant. Nor have I forgotten that you said her
father was as poor as a church mouse and had
gone off on some tomfool mission to Africa,
where he'll probably end up in a stew pot like
some of his forerunners.'

'Really, Ephraim, I don't think you ought to
talk in that manner,' Mr Collins said, frowning.

'I'll speak as I please in my own house.'
Ephraim turned to Eloise, giving her a searching
look. 'Now, lady, tell me why you need to take
on work as a skivvy? Haven't you got any rich
relations you could impose on?'

'I'm a widow, sir. My in-laws live in the north
and I do not choose to impose on them, as you
put it.'

'Huh! I see you have a bit of spirit in spite of
being a parson's daughter. Can't stand mealy-mouthed,
prim and proper misses. But you don't
look strong enough to do housework.'

'Housework? I thought you wanted a housekeeper.'

Ephraim uttered a mirthless cackle of laughter.
'Call it what you will. I want someone to wash
and clean my old woman and feed her when
she's hungry, which ain't too often these days.'

'It sounds as though you need a trained nurse,
sir.'

'I ain't paying for a nurse. Waste of money. The
old girl's not for this world much longer, or so I
hope. I should be handing her over to one of Mr
Collins's colleagues soon enough and they can
bury her and send her nagging soul to heaven or
hell. I don't really care where she ends up. But if
you're too grand for the job, lady, just speak out
now. Don't waste my time.'

Eloise glanced at Joss who was happily sucking
a segment of orange, and at Beth, who lay
rosy-cheeked and sleeping on the horsehair sofa,
and she knew she had no choice. 'Very well, I'll
do it, as long as you allow me to keep my
children with me.'

'They can stay as long as I don't see or hear
them. Keep them out of my way while you scrub
and clean the floors and you'll not find me a hard
taskmaster.'

'Scrubbing and cleaning?' Eloise bit her lip. 'I
thought you wanted someone to nurse your
wife?'

'That don't take all day. You'll have plenty of
time for keeping house when you've poured a bit
of laudanum down her throat. She sleeps most of
the time as it is. What's the matter, lady? Are you
too high and mighty to roll up your sleeves and
do a bit of cleaning?'

Mr Collins set Joss on the floor. 'Really,
Ephraim, this is most improper talk.'

'If you don't like it, you can leave, vicar. And
you can take her with you if she's not of a mind
to help out an elderly gent in distress.' Ephraim
leaned towards Eloise with his eyes glinting
malevolently. 'Forty pounds a year, and free
board and lodging. How does that sound, my
lady?'

It's only temporary, Eloise told herself. Just
until I can find something better. She nodded her
head. 'I'll do it.'

'But, Mrs Cribb, are you sure . . .' Mr Collins
began, clearing his throat nervously. 'I mean, I
truly didn't know that there would be so much
expected of you.'

'Ain't you up to it, lady?' Ephraim demanded,
obviously enjoying the spectacle of their discomfort.
'Say now, if you ain't.'

'I can do it,' Eloise said firmly. Although she was
far from certain that this was actually true, she
was now desperate. All her instincts were telling
her neither to trust nor like Mr Hubble, but if she
accepted his offer it would provide a roof over
their heads for the time being, and the Cribbs
would never think to look for her here. She was
not afraid of hard work; she would scrub floors
and clean privies if it enabled her to provide for
her children. 'When can I start?'

'Mrs Cribb,' Mr Collins said, rising to his feet.
'Perhaps you ought to take time to consider Mr
Hubble's offer?'

'Be silent, Reverend,' Ephraim snapped. 'Let
the girl make up her own mind.'

Eloise stooped to pick up Beth, and she took
Joss by the hand. 'My mind is made up, sir. I will
need to collect my belongings from Mrs King's
lodging house, but I am free to begin today if you
want me to.'

Ephraim let out a low chuckle, which sounded
suspiciously like a growl. 'I want you to, young
lady. You'll brighten up the old place a treat; just
keep them nippers out of my sight. I can't abide
children.'

'Is this wise?' Mr Collins asked, keeping his
voice low. 'I mean, perhaps you ought to stay on
in Nile Street until something more suitable
turns up.'

'I came here at your suggestion, vicar.'

'Yes, I know that, and it is for that reason that I
would ask you to think again. I might have
misjudged the situation.' Mr Collins glanced
anxiously over his shoulder at the hunched
figure crouching in the chair.

'Stop muttering, vicar,' Ephraim shouted,
pointing his walking stick at him. 'If you've
something to say, speak up or hold your tongue.'

'I was just offering to assist Mrs Cribb with her
luggage, Ephraim.'

'You're a liar, sir, and you a man of the cloth!
Shame on you.' Ephraim threw back his head
and roared with laughter. Taking a leather purse
from his pocket, he took out a coin and held it up
between his thumb and forefinger. 'Here, lady.
This will pay for a cab from your lodging house.
Never let it be said that Ephraim Hubble is a
mean man.' He tossed the coin to Mr Collins who
caught it deftly in one hand. 'Your job is done,
vicar. You'll not see me again until I attend me
old lady's funeral. Then the one who'll be
singing the loudest will be me.'

Ephraim's coarse laughter followed them as
Eloise hurried down the stairs followed by Mr
Collins. He caught her by the arm as they went
outside into the street. 'Mrs Cribb, I am not
sure . . .'

She gave him a reassuring smile. 'Please don't
worry about me, Mr Collins. I am sure I will be
well suited here.'

'I hope so, ma'am. I feel a certain amount of
responsibility, having introduced you to Mr
Hubble.'

'I am sure you don't need to worry, and I am
very grateful to you for going to so much trouble
on my account. I mustn't keep you any longer
from your parish duties.' Eloise turned and
started to walk away but he caught up with her.

'I will walk part of the way with you, Mrs
Cribb.'

They parted in the City Road and Eloise
hurried on to Nile Street. She had hoped to slip
away without being noticed, but in the end she
had to enlist Annie's help in carrying the luggage
out of the house. Annie scuttled off to hail a cab.

'Found one at the end of the street,' Annie
gasped breathlessly, having run all the way back
to where Eloise waited on the pavement with
Joss and Beth. 'He's just turning the thing round,
which ain't easy with all the traffic these days.'
Annie clasped her hands to her chest. 'Cor
blimey, that's took it out of me. I ain't as
sprightly as I was when I was younger.'

Eloise laughed in spite of everything. 'You
mean when you were eight or nine?'

'It's all due to her wearing me out with hard
work. Won't you take me with you, missis? I
could help with the nippers.'

'I would if I could, believe me, but I'm afraid
it's impossible. I'm not even sure how I'll get on
in Clerkenwell Green.'

'I'll come and visit you there on me afternoon
off then. I get one every month or so if she's in a
good mood.'

Eloise bit her lip. She had not meant to tell anyone
where she was going. The cab was rumbling
towards them and she had to raise her voice to
make herself heard above the clatter of the
horse's hooves. 'You won't tell anyone where
I've gone, will you, Annie?'

Annie's eyes widened with curiosity. 'Why
not?'

'There might be someone enquiring after me
and the children. I don't want them to find me.
Do you understand?'

Annie nodded emphatically. 'I can keep a
secret, but I can come, can't I?'

'Of course you can, dear. Look for the house
with the blue door facing the green. You can't
miss it.'

'I will,' Annie promised, hefting the two pieces
of luggage into the cab. 'And I won't tell no one
nothing. Cross me heart and hope to die.'

The cabby set them down outside the house in
Clerkenwell Green. Eloise knocked on the door
with a feeling of trepidation. Once again she was
plunging herself and her children into the
unknown. She dared not think too far ahead.
Day to day life had whittled down to the bare
necessities of having enough food to eat and a
bed to sleep in at night. She waited nervously for
the sound of approaching footsteps. She knocked
again and this time was rewarded by a faint
shuffling sound. The door opened and the
elderly woman with the snuff-stained face
glared at her. 'What d'you want?'

'I am the new housekeeper. Mr Hubble hired
me this morning.'

'Housekeeper! That's a laugh. If you're the
housekeeper, then I'm Queen Victoria.' She
moved away and the door would have swung
shut in Eloise's face if she had not shoved her
suitcase over the doorsill with her foot. She
dragged the valise over the step and edged into
the hall, with Beth held firmly in one arm and
Joss clinging to her hand. 'Wait a minute,' Eloise
called after the fast disappearing woman. 'You
will have to show me my room, and I need some
help with my cases.'

The woman stopped and glanced over her
shoulder, scowling. 'I don't have to do nothing,
missis.'

'My name is Mrs Cribb, and I would be obliged
if you would show me to my room, Miss – er –
Mrs . . .'

'It's Agnes Smith. Miss Smith to you.' Agnes
hobbled off down the passageway. 'Follow me
then, unless you want to sleep on the doormat.'
She led them down the hallway to a room at the
back of the house. Thrusting the door open she
stood aside to let Eloise pass. 'There you are.
Make yourself comfortable, if you can.'

'But I thought this was Mrs Hubble's room,'
Eloise said, hesitating. 'Mr Hubble said . . .'

Agnes threw back her head and laughed. 'He
says lots of things. Like poor Mrs Hubble is sick.
Well, I tells you, lady, she is more than sick. She's
been dead this past four months. Dead and
buried in St James's churchyard.'

A feeling of nausea swept over Eloise and for a
moment she felt quite faint. 'And this was her
room?'

Obviously enjoying herself, Agnes grinned.
'She died in that very bed, but it weren't nothing
catching, she pegged out peaceful enough.
Although there's some what might say a large
dose of laudanum helped her on her way, but
that's just gossip.'

'There must be some mistake,' Eloise murmured,
peering nervously into the depths of the
darkened room. 'Mr Hubble said . . .'

'Lord save us, missis. You don't want to pay no
attention to what he says. He'd swear that day
was night if it got him what he wanted.'

'But he said I was to help care for his sick wife?'

'He would say that. I'd put it out of me mind if
I was you. Take a look inside. It ain't so bad, well
it might need a bit of dusting, seeing as how it's
been shut up since the old lady breathed her last.
Don't stand there gawking, girl. She ain't still in
there.'

Joss ran into the room but Eloise still hesitated.
'Why did Mr Hubble say his wife was still alive?
Why did he tell an out and out lie to the vicar?'

Agnes pulled a poke of paper from her pocket
and took a pinch of snuff. 'He's a crafty old sod,
that's what he is. Folks round here know all
about old man Hubble and his liking for pretty
young women, except that he can't get them so
easily nowadays, what with his gout and his
lameness.'

The truth was slowly dawning on Eloise as she
realised that the Reverend Martin Collins had
been tricked into thinking Ephraim needed a
house servant, when it appeared that the old
man had other things on his mind. She was
tempted to walk out of the house there and then,
but it was late afternoon and her children were
tired and hungry. She was exhausted after the
emotionally draining events of the day, and the
only other alternative would be to spend some of
her fast dwindling money on a night's board in
another lodging house or an inn. She stepped
into the musty-smelling room and a shiver ran
down her spine. The curtains were closed, and
when Eloise drew them back she half expected to
discover the corpse of Mrs Hubble laid out on the
bed. A shaft of sunlight filled with dancing dust
motes filtered in through grimy windowpanes,
but a quick glance over her shoulder confirmed
that the bed was empty. Strangely enough, the
room was not as awful as she had first thought.
The single bedstead was covered by a white
counterpane, which appeared to be reasonably
clean. There was a washstand with a jug and
basin decorated with violets and primroses, a
rocking chair with a faded chintz cushion on its
seat, an empty bookcase and a tallboy in one
corner. A thick layer of dust covered everything
like a sprinkling of sugar on sour fruit, but that
could easily be remedied with the use of a duster.
If she cleaned the ashes out of the grate and lit a
fire, it would soon take the chill off the room and
the simple act of opening the window would
clear the air. Eloise set Beth down on a rug and
went to fling up the sash. A gusty breeze laden
with the smell of hops and yeast from the nearby
brewery ruffled her hair and made the curtains
billow out like ragged sails.

'You're well suited then?' Agnes demanded
from the doorway. 'You ain't going to skitter off
like a scared cat as the last one did?'

Eloise turned to face her. 'There have been
others?'

'Half a dozen at least. They never lasted more
than a week. I give you twenty-four hours at the
most. Just you wait until he puts his hand up
your skirt; you won't look so confident then,
lady.'

'I shan't put myself in that position,' Eloise said
firmly. 'Thank you for warning me, Miss Smith.
I'll be on my guard.'

'Best lock your door tonight then, or you might
get a nasty surprise.' Agnes turned to leave but
Eloise called her back.

'Miss Smith, what time is supper? And could I
have some warm milk and bread and butter for
the children?'

Agnes curled her lip. 'I only cook for him
upstairs. You'll have to find your own food.'

'Oh!' Taken aback, Eloise stared at her in surprise.
'Well, all right. I have not come prepared,
but if you'll tell me where the kitchen is . . .'

'My kitchen is in the basement, but I don't like
people interfering with my things. I'll tell you
that for nothing.' Agnes stomped off muttering
beneath her breath.

Eloise would have followed her, but out of the
corner of her eye she saw that Joss was playing
with something small and furry. She hurried
over to him and bit back a cry of disgust as she
saw that his new toy was a dead mouse. She
picked it up by the tail and hurled it out of the
window. Joss began to cry and she went down
on her knees to cuddle him. 'It's all right,
sweetheart. Mama will make everything come
right for you and Beth.' Eloise held her arm out
to Beth who was crawling over to her with a
trusting smile on her small face. Eloise hugged
them both to her breast. They had all been
through so much in such a short space of time;
surely things could not get much worse?

'Hungry, Mama,' Joss said, pulling away from
her and rubbing his tummy. 'Want a drink.'

Eloise dashed a tear from her eyes and she rose
to her feet, lifting Beth in her arms. 'Of course,
you must be very hungry and thirsty. Come
along, Joss, let's go down to the kitchen and see
what we can find to eat.' She took him by the
hand and went to look for the back stairs which
led down to the basement kitchen. Just let that
woman get in my way, Eloise thought with a
militant twitch of her shoulders, if she dares say
one more word out of place I will show her that I
didn't live in Myrtle Street for three years
without learning how to stand up for myself.
How far away that life seemed now. Eloise made
her way down the narrow staircase to the basement.
How it would grieve Ronnie if he could see
to what depths she had fallen. But sadly, Ronnie
was gone forever, and there was no use dwelling
on what she had lost.

She entered the kitchen ready to do battle, and
found Agnes seated by the range with her feet up
on the brass rail, holding a stone bottle to her
lips. Judging by the satisfied smile on her face
and a certain amount of sighing and lipsmacking,
Eloise could only assume that Agnes
was drinking something stronger than lemonade.
Ignoring her, she set Beth down on the
flagstones, which were covered with white sand;
or at least it must have once been white but was
now mixed with the carapaces of dead cockroaches,
half-eaten crusts of bread and scattered
vegetable peelings. Joss squatted down and
began to trace patterns in it with the tips of his
chubby fingers, and Eloise had to snatch a dry
crust from Beth's hand as she tried to put it in her
mouth.

Whatever it was that Agnes did in this house,
cleaning was certainly not her priority. The large,
deal table was littered with dirty crockery, a heel
of cheese and a loaf of bread that was sprouting
a coat of blue mould. A piece of meat was barely
recognisable beneath a shifting mass of bluebottles,
and an earthenware jug was filled with
milk that had curdled and formed a sour smelling
cheese which would not turn out no
matter how hard Eloise shook it over the stone
sink. The larder was even more of a nightmare,
and a large black rat scuttled out as Eloise
opened the door. It streaked across the kitchen
and disappeared through a hole in the wall that
was large enough for a cat to slither through.
Eloise felt sick, but she stifled a cry of dismay and
continued her search for something edible. The
shelves were thick with dust and cobwebs hung
from the ceiling of the larder. There was a bag of
flour but the resident rodents had gnawed a hole
in it, and what they had not managed to
consume was spread all over the floor where ants
were busy carting away crumbs of bread and
swarming over an open jam pot.