A Mother's Wish (22 page)

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Authors: Dilly Court

BOOK: A Mother's Wish
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‘I must go now,’ Effie protested. ‘My son is being held without my permission. He’s just a baby. He’ll be so frightened without me.’

‘And you’ll see him soon,’ Mrs Hoskins said gently. ‘Sit down, dear.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Effie cried, pushing past her. She staggered out of the dim interior of the cottage into brilliant sunlight. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she peered across to where the
Margaret
had been moored,
but the berth was empty. She ran along the towpath, stumbling and tripping over her wet skirts as she saw the vessel gliding through the open tide gates. ‘No,’ she shouted. ‘Come back.’ She turned at the sound of a horse’s hooves and saw Hoskins leading the mare towards her. ‘They’ve gone, Mr Hoskins. They’ve taken my baby. Send someone for a constable.’

‘I’m sure it’s a mistake, ducks,’ Jim said, handing her the reins. ‘After all, the child is with his grandpa. He’ll look after the boy.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Effie sobbed. ‘They’ve taken my baby from me. I must get him back.’ Despite her wet clothes, she managed to clamber onto the mare’s back, and she dug her heels into the animal’s flanks. ‘Giddy-up.’

The tired mare snorted in fright but lurched forward at a spanking trot, almost unseating Effie. She regained her seat with an effort and urged the mare to a canter. ‘Stop,’ she cried breathlessly as she drew nearer to Salter, who was leading Champion along the towpath on the opposite bank. ‘Stop, please. Give me back my baby.’

‘You’re wasting your time, girlie,’ Salter called over his shoulder. ‘You can follow us all the way to Limehouse Basin but it won’t do you no good.’

Effie drew the mare to a sudden halt. She looked down into the muddy waters of the canal, wondering how deep it was at this point. The
Margaret
was pulling away from her and she was desperate. She leaned forward to pat the mare’s neck, whispering in her ear, ‘Come on, you can do it.’ She tugged at the reins in an attempt to make the horse enter the canal, but the animal reared on her hind legs, whinnying with fear. Effie struggled to regain control but the mare bucked and Effie went flying over her head.

Effie lay in a crumpled heap dazed, winded and fighting for breath. She tried to sit up but a searing pain in her left arm brought tears to her eyes.

‘Are you all right, missis?’ Jim Hoskins threw himself down on his knees at her side. ‘You took a mighty tumble. Is anything broke?’

Unable to speak, Effie pointed to her left arm.

He examined it gently, shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell if it’s busted or not. We’d best get you back to the cottage and I’ll send for the sawbones.’

‘N-no,’ Effie gasped. ‘Must go after them.’

‘All in good time, ducks. But you ain’t going nowhere in this state.’ Jim rose to his feet. ‘D’you think you can stand?’

She made an attempt to rise but each movement hurt, making her feel sick and dizzy.
Jim raised her to her feet, hooking her uninjured arm around his shoulders. ‘We’ll take it slow. One step at a time.’

‘My horse,’ Effie murmured anxiously.

‘She’s not going to wander far. I’ll see to her later. We’ve got to sort you out first, young lady.’

With one arm hanging limply at her side, Effie was in too much pain to argue as they made their way slowly back to the lock keeper’s cottage. Mrs Hoskins was waiting in the doorway and she ran towards them. ‘Oh, you poor thing. You could have broken your neck.’

‘I think her arm might be broken.’ Jim handed Effie over to his wife. ‘Take her indoors and look after her, Mother. I’ve got to get back to work but I’ll send the boy to fetch the doctor.’

‘Come inside, ducks, and we’ll soon have you put to rights.’ Mrs Hoskins hustled Effie into the cottage.

The heat of the kitchen almost took her breath away as Effie allowed herself to be guided to a rocking chair close to the range, and as if seeing it for the first time she took in the cosy interior of the cottage. A kettle simmering on the range puffed out clouds of steam and a large pan of savoury smelling stew bubbled away on the hob.
The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the scent of herbs drying in the chimney breast. ‘I can’t stay,’ Effie protested dazedly. ‘I have a change of clothes in my saddlebag, and if you could bind my arm I’m sure I could ride.’

‘You’re not going anywhere until the doctor has taken a look at that arm.’

‘But you don’t understand. They’ve kidnapped my baby. The Salters are bad people.’

Mrs Hoskins’ eyes widened and she stared at Effie in disbelief. ‘You poor soul. The fall has addled your wits and you don’t know what you’re saying. My Jimmy says that Salter and his wife have done a good job in caring for old Jacob since he took to drink. You’ve got it all wrong, dear. Rest awhile and perhaps the doctor can give you something to make you feel a bit better.’

‘I need to leave now,’ Effie said firmly. ‘If you would be so kind as to fetch my saddlebag I could change my clothes and be on my way.’

‘You’re in no fit state to travel.’ Mrs Hoskins wrapped a warm towel around Effie’s shoulders. ‘A cup of strong sweet tea is what you need.’

Frustrated and anxious, Effie realised that there was truth in her words however unwelcome. The pain in her arm had dulled to an
ache as long as she kept it absolutely still. Her headache was improving slightly but the worst pain of all was in her heart. She had not been parted from Georgie for a single day since his birth and having him wrested from her was like losing a limb. She was consumed with terror at the thought of what might befall him on board the narrowboat. Sal Salter had all the maternal instincts of a cuckoo, and Salter would think nothing of beating a child, even one as young as Georgie. She did not think that her father-in-law would physically harm her son, but the Salters had Jacob in their power and from what she had seen, Effie could only guess that they kept him drunk and possibly drugged to suit their own ends. She was in a living, waking nightmare and she could do nothing about it.

She watched Mrs Hoskins as she bustled about making a fresh pot of tea, and it seemed to Effie that this was her answer to everything: a cup of tea could solve all the problems in the world. If only it were that simple. She closed her eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed over her. The night ride and lack of sleep made it impossible for her to keep awake and she found herself drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

‘The doctor’s coming, Mother.’

The sound of Jim’s voice awakened Effie with a start. She sat upright, wincing as a shaft of pain seared through her left arm. Mrs Hoskins rose from the table where she had been shelling peas and she wiped her hands on her apron. ‘About time too. I thought that boy had run off again.’

Jim shook his head. ‘He’s here now, and that’s all that matters.’ He ushered the doctor into the room. ‘It’s good of you to come so quickly, sir.’

‘That’s quite all right, Hoskins. I was in the neighbourhood when the boy caught up with me.’ The young doctor approached Effie with a friendly smile. ‘You must be the unlucky young woman who was thrown from her horse.’

Effie nodded her head. ‘My arm, doctor. It hurts when I move it.’

‘Does it indeed? Then I’d better take a look at it.’ He examined the injured limb, noting Effie’s reactions when the pain caused her to flinch and bite her lip.

‘Is it broken?’ she asked anxiously.

‘No. I’d say it’s just a bad sprain, but you should try not to use the arm for a few days at least.’ He opened his bag and took out a square of calico, which he deftly folded into a sling.

‘But I can’t impose on Mr and Mrs Hoskins any longer than necessary, and I have to travel on to find my son.’

‘The young woman thinks her baby has been kidnapped, doctor.’ Mrs Hoskins drew him aside, speaking in a low voice. ‘I think she may have hit her head when she fell off the horse.’

‘Rest is the answer, Mrs Hoskins. Rest and quiet and a few drops of laudanum to be taken at night before retiring to bed.’ He took a small brown bottle from his bag and placed it on the table. ‘That will be one and six for my fee, a penny for the laudanum and twopence for the sling.’

Effie put her hand in her pocket and counted out the coins. It was, she thought, an exorbitant amount to charge for a brief consultation and a scrap of calico that couldn’t have cost more than a halfpenny. ‘I’m sorry to have put you to so much trouble, doctor.’ She could tell by his rueful smile that she had hit a nerve, and she was ashamed to have spoken so sharply, but having to part with almost half the money she possessed in the whole world was as worrying as it was painful.

‘We all have to make a living, ma’am.’

‘And some of us profit from the misfortune of others.’ Effie knew that she was being unreasonable, but they were all treating her
as though the bump on her head had addled her brain. She could not tell these well-meaning strangers the true extent of her trials. She had lost Tom. Georgie had been wrenched from her arms, and Toby had seemingly deserted her. She could hardly be in a worse position.

‘She’s a bit shocked by the experience,’ the doctor said, shaking his head. ‘I know I’m leaving the poor lady in good hands. Good day, Mrs Hoskins.’ He tipped his hat, turning to Jim with a tired smile.

‘If you’d get the boy to fetch my horse, please?’

‘Certainly, Doctor,’ Jim said, following the doctor outside.

Effie attempted to rise to her feet but every muscle in her body protested and her arm hurt with even the slightest movement.

‘You must do as the doctor says.’ Mrs Hoskins went back to shelling peas at the table. ‘We can put you up for a day or two, but you’ll have to sleep on a truckle bed under the stairs. I’ll only charge you for the food you eat and not a penny more.’

‘You’re very kind,’ Effie murmured gratefully. ‘I do appreciate it, but you must see that I can’t stay. Georgie needs me and I must go to him.’

‘You could catch up with them tomorrow
if you’re feeling better, but your poor horse needs a rest too. You won’t get far if the animal goes lame, now will you?’

Effie knew that everything Mrs Hoskins said was true, but commonsense flew out of the window when it came to a mother’s anguish on being separated from her child. She could see Georgie’s tear-stained face and his desperate sobs echoed in her head, but she realised that she would have to put her feelings aside for the moment. She must take the doctor’s advice, however unwelcome. Tomorrow, when both she and the mare were rested, she would follow the
Margaret
. Quite how she would rescue Georgie she had no idea, but no one was going to keep her from her baby. She sat quite still, watching Mrs Hoskins as she finished shelling the peas and put them in a pan to cook. The stew simmering on the hob smelt appetising and Effie’s stomach rumbled in anticipation of a tasty meal. It seemed callous to think of food in such extreme circumstances, but she knew she had to keep her strength up for the long ride next day.

Mrs Hoskins cut a hunk of bread from the loaf she had just taken from the oven and she ladled soup into a tin pannikin. ‘For the boy,’ she said tersely as she carried the food to the door. ‘Boy.’ She stepped outside. ‘Boy, come and get your dinner.’

Effie heard the clatter of hobnails on the gravel path followed by a brief exchange of words that she could not quite make out, and she was suddenly curious. The boy seemed to be at the Hoskins’ beck and call, but he was not allowed into the house to eat his meals. ‘Is that your son?’ she asked as Mrs Hoskins returned to her task of serving the midday meal.

‘We was never blessed with children. He’s a stray that Jim took in a couple of days ago. He gets fed in payment for helping work the lock gates and running errands, although I daresay he’ll be off as soon as the spirit takes him. You can’t rely on his sort.’

‘What sort is that, Mrs Hoskins?’

‘Didicoi, that’s what he is, or maybe he’s run away from the workhouse. You can’t trust them no further than you can see them.’

Effie held her tongue with difficulty. She knew what it was like to suffer the stigma of having been in an institution, and she felt instantly sorry for the boy who was forced to accept grudgingly given charity.

‘He sleeps in the pigsty,’ Mrs Hoskins said, hacking slices off the loaf. ‘He has plenty of clean straw and the old sow don’t mind. They’re company for each other.’

The remainder of the day passed in a haze. Mrs Hoskins had made up the truckle bed and
insisted that Effie lay down to rest. Exhaustion combined with a dose of laudanum sent her drifting off into a dreamless oblivion.

When she awakened next morning the sun was already high in the sky and breakfast had been eaten and cleared away. Mrs Hoskins was scrubbing the floor with lye soap and hot water, sending wavelets rippling across the flagstones. Effie raised herself to a sitting position. She ran her hand through her hair and yawned. The headache had gone and she felt surprisingly refreshed; she had slept remarkably well even though the bed was hard and the straw-filled mattress prickly. An attempt to move her injured arm proved to be a mistake, but it was not quite as painful as it had been the previous day. She swung her legs over the side of the cot and stood up. ‘Good morning, ma’am.’

‘Mind how you step,’ Mrs Hoskins warned. ‘The floor’s wet and slippery. We don’t want you breaking a leg as well as an arm.’

Effie shifted from one foot to the other. ‘Do you think I could have my saddlebag now, please? I need to change my clothes, and then I’ll be on my way.’

‘You can stay another day if you’ve a mind to. Tenpence should cover the cost of the vittles, and I’ll say tuppence for the hay that Jim’s fed your horse.’

‘Yes, of course, but I really would like my things.’

Mrs Hoskins dropped the scrubbing brush into the bucket and scrambled to her feet. She made her way carefully across the wet floor to the open doorway. ‘Boy,’ she shouted. ‘Fetch the saddlebag for the lady and bring it here.’ She picked up the mop and began swishing it around to sop up the suds. ‘I dunno how long Jim means to keep him on, but that boy is eating us out of house and home. He’s nothing but a yard of skin wrapped round an empty belly and just about as useful.’

Effie padded over to the table and helped herself to a slice of bread and butter. She was going to be charged for the food so she might as well eat her fill before setting off. She had not thought how she would ride with one arm in a sling, but she was determined to leave as soon as possible, even if she had to lead the horse and walk all the way to Limehouse Basin.

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