A Mother's Wish (43 page)

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Authors: Dilly Court

BOOK: A Mother's Wish
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‘Here, let me have a go,’ Ben said, taking it from her. ‘You’ve been through a lot this morning, my girl. No wonder your hands are
shaking.’ He put the key in the lock and tried again, to no avail.

‘I don’t understand it,’ Effie said. ‘There must be something stuck in the keyhole.’

‘No, missis. I changed the locks.’

Effie spun round to see a small man wearing a green-tinged black suit with leather patches at the elbows of his jacket, and a stiff paper collar that threatened to cut his throat each time he moved his head. He took off his battered bowler hat, tucking it beneath his arm. ‘I’m sorry, missis. Just doing me job.’

‘And what is your occupation, sir?’ Seymour demanded in a booming voice that echoed off the dilapidated buildings across the street, causing doors to open and heads to pop out like peas bursting from their pods. A small crowd began to assemble.

‘Bailiff, mister. This lady ain’t paid no rent this week and the landlord has received information that she’s a felon, and been up in court. I’ve been told to evict her.’

Effie stared at him in disbelief. ‘You can’t do that. The rent isn’t due until Friday.’

‘I’m just doing me job.’

The bailiff took a step backwards as Ben uttered a growl of displeasure. ‘No need for violence, cully.’

‘And taking great pleasure in it, unless I’m very much mistaken.’ Ben made a move as if
to grab the man by the throat, but Seymour held up his hand.

‘Don’t touch him, Ben. You’ll only get yourself into trouble with the law, which I very much fear is on the side of this villain.’

‘Here, mister, I ain’t no villain, I’m just . . .’

‘Doing your job, I know,’ Seymour said severely. ‘But you can surely open the door and let this lady pack up her belongings?’

‘There must be some mistake,’ Effie cried passionately. ‘I’ve got the money indoors. Please let me go inside and get it.’

‘Can’t do that, missis. I’ve carried out me duty and everything in the house belongs to the landlord. The contents will be sold off to cover outstanding rent and costs.’ He turned and ran, the bundle of keys grasped in his hand jingling with every loping step.

‘I’ll go after him and make the little bugger open the door,’ Ben said, preparing to follow the terrified official.

‘No, don’t.’ Seymour laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘If he’s a bailiff he has the law on his side and I think we’ve seen enough of the magistrates’ court.’

‘But my things,’ Effie protested. ‘Everything I own is locked in that house. All our clothes and my pots and pans and Georgie’s toys . . .’

‘All can be replaced, Effie,’ Seymour said gently. ‘It’s harsh, I know, but how long would you have been able to hold on to the house without the ability to sell ale? It was a brave attempt to support yourself and your family, but it’s come to an end and you must accept help from your friends.’

‘I’d take you in, but you know how things are with the missis . . .’ Ben’s voice trailed off miserably and he avoided meeting Effie’s troubled gaze.

‘There’s no question about it,’ Seymour said firmly. ‘Marsh House will be your home from now on, Effie.’

‘I couldn’t. I mean, I know how little money you have and . . .’

‘I’m a rich man compared to you. I have property and enough income from our efforts at farming to keep the wolf from the door. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t want to be at Marsh House when Toby comes home?’

Effie felt the ready blush flood her cheeks. ‘No, sir.’

‘No, Seymour,’ he said, smiling and placing his hand on her shoulder. ‘We’re going to be family, Effie. I’ll not only have a son, but a daughter and a grandson as well. Where is the little fellow?’

Effie could see Mary and Dotty peering out
of their front room window and the top of Georgie’s curly head and his tiny starfish fingers clutching the windowsill.

‘Georgie,’ she murmured, hurrying to the door and rattling the knocker. ‘Mary, it’s me.’

‘Best bring Effie to the pub, sir,’ Ben said gruffly. ‘My missis won’t have nothing to say if she’s with you, but I’d best get back there now. I’ve work to do.’

‘Of course.’ Seymour shook his hand. ‘We’ll follow on when we’ve got the boy.’

Effie bent down to catch Georgie in her arms as the door opened and he hurtled out to greet her.

Mary eyed Seymour nervously. ‘I’d ask you in, but I’m in the middle of a big wash. My house ain’t fit to be seen by a gent.’

‘I expect you saw what happened just now,’ Effie said, glancing over her shoulder at the silent crowd on the far side of the street. ‘It will be all round Bow that the bailiff was called in.’

Mary’s cheeks, already flushed with heat from slaving over the washtub, deepened in colour. ‘Don’t take no notice of them over the road. They’re sluts and trollops, all of them. They’ll gab on about the bailiff throwing you out of the house for a day or two and then it’ll be some other poor sod who gets the sharp end of their spiteful tongues. I got no time for them.’

Effie put Georgie down in order to give Mary a hug. ‘I’ll miss you, Mary. You’ve been a good friend.’

Dotty tugged at her mother’s apron strings. ‘C’mon, Ma. We’ll never get done at this rate.’

‘And we should be going on our way,’ Seymour said gently. ‘It’s a long ride to Marsh House.’ He proffered his arm to Effie, ignoring the titters from the women across the street.

‘Goodbye, Mary,’ Effie said tearfully. ‘Take care of your ma, Dotty.’ Taking Georgie by the hand, she allowed Seymour to lead them away from the house which she had worked so hard to turn into a home. ‘We must find Tom,’ she said urgently. ‘He doesn’t know what’s happened.’

Seymour patted her hand as it nestled in the crook of his arm. ‘All in good time, Effie. We’ll get you and Georgie settled in the parlour at the tavern and I’ll send the stable boy to find your brother. I’ll need to arrange transport to take you to Marsh House.’

Effie shot him a curious glance. ‘Aren’t you coming with us?’

‘No, my dear, I’ll stay a day or two longer. I’m not leaving without seeing Toby and I have the name of a lawyer in Lincoln’s Inn Fields who is supposed to be the best in the business.’

‘I don’t want to be rude,’ Effie said tentatively, ‘but can you afford his fees?’

Seymour threw back his head and laughed. ‘You get straight to the point and that’s very refreshing, Effie. The answer to your question is no, but if everything goes to plan that won’t be a problem.’

If Maggie Hawkins was dismayed to see Effie walking into her pub, she hid her feelings well. She greeted them with a bright smile painted on her thin features as she ushered them into the best parlour. Seymour thanked her and complimented her on the style and comfort of the room, which to Effie’s eyes was over-furnished and fussily decorated. The whitewashed walls were hung with sentimental prints of angelic-looking children playing with fat little puppies, or posing like statues with flower-bedecked hoops held above their heads. Dusty velvet curtains draped the small window and every spare inch of shelf space was occupied by the type of cheap fairings that Leah might have sold from her stall.

‘This is our best room, sir,’ Maggie said proudly. ‘Will you require a meal, Mr Westlake?’

‘I’ll eat later, Mrs Hawkins, but I’m sure Effie and her child must be famished.’ He turned to Effie with an amused twitch of
his lips. ‘Order whatever you fancy, my dear. I’m going out now but I’ll be back soon.’

‘You will send someone to find Tom, won’t you?’ Effie asked anxiously.

‘Consider it done.’

There was a moment’s silence after Seymour left the room. Maggie stood in the doorway with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Effie could see the muscles at the corners of her mouth twitching as if she had something to say but was biting back harsh words.

‘I don’t want to put you out,’ Effie said hastily. ‘I’m more than happy to eat in the kitchen, and I would like to see Betty if it’s all right with you.’

‘The kitchen is where you belong,’ Maggie hissed. ‘But he wants you to be treated like a lady, so that’s how it shall be.’

‘This has nothing to do with Mr Westlake. I choose the kitchen and I don’t think you will be silly enough to make a fuss.’

‘Don’t you get all hoity-toity with me, you trollop,’ Maggie said through clenched teeth. ‘You’ve been after my Ben since the day you first showed up on our doorstep, but now I see you’ve set your sights higher. Good luck to you, I say.’

Effie sighed, shaking her head. ‘I’m really sorry for you, Maggie. You’re making yourself miserable with your jealousy, and if anything
drives Ben into another woman’s arms it will be you.’

‘And that woman would have been you if you hadn’t wheedled your way in with a toff.’

‘I like Ben as a friend and that’s all it ever was and ever will be.’ Seizing Georgie by the hand, Effie marched past her and made for the kitchen.

‘Them Salters was at the back of it,’ Betty said when Effie told her what had happened. ‘They’re out to make your life a misery and that’s for certain.’

‘I know, Betty, and that’s why I have no choice but to accept Mr Westlake’s invitation. At least we’ll be safe at Marsh House and I can wait there until Toby is released from jail, no matter how long it takes.’

‘I wish I could do more for you, ducks. And my poor little Aggie will be heartbroken if Tom goes with you.’

Effie paused with a spoonful of soup halfway to her lips. ‘What a selfish creature I’ve become. Everything has happened so suddenly that I hadn’t given a thought to Tom’s feelings.’

‘He could stay with us. One more mouth to feed wouldn’t make no difference, and he could visit you on Sundays.’

Effie put her spoon down as her appetite
deserted her. ‘I’d have to talk it over with him. It would be his decision, Betty.’ She leaned over to wipe jam off Georgie’s chin, receiving a happy smile as he held his hand out for another of Betty’s jam tarts.

‘I’ll miss you both,’ Betty said wistfully. ‘You’re like family.’

Effie broke a jam tart in half and gave one part to Georgie. ‘This isn’t goodbye, Betty. I’ll come and see you as often as I can.’ She looked up with a start as the outer door was flung open and Tom rushed into the kitchen, flushed and perspiring, with an anxious look on his face.

‘Are you all right, Effie? Seymour came to fetch me and he’s told me what happened this morning.’

‘Ho, Seymour is it?’ Betty said, raising her eyebrows. ‘Show a bit of respect to your elders and betters, boy.’

Tom shot her a sideways glance. ‘He said I was to call him that.’ He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table opposite his sister. ‘What are we going to do, Effie?’

‘I haven’t much choice,’ she said slowly, measuring her words. ‘But you have, Tom. You can come to Marsh House with Georgie and me, or you could lodge with Betty in Phoebe Street and come to see us on Sundays; that way you could keep your job and still see Agnes every day.’

Tom glanced at Betty and she gave him an encouraging smile. ‘You’re more than welcome to stay with us. You’ve done it afore so you know what it’s like sharing a room with my boys.’

‘But you need me, Effie,’ Tom said, frowning. ‘I’m the man of the house; you’ve always said so.’

‘Mr Westlake will be your guvner,’ Betty put in before Effie had a chance to respond. ‘You’ll have to do what he says, young man.’

Effie reached across the table to clasp his hand. ‘Of course I need you, Tom. But I want what’s best for you. If you’d be happier staying in Bow with Betty’s family, then that’s what you must do.’

Tom shook his head. ‘I dunno. I want things to go back as they were. I liked our little house and I was happy being able to walk across the common to work each morning.’

‘I know, and it hurt me to leave our home too, but it’s gone and we’ve got to get on with our lives.’

‘I don’t want to leave you to struggle along on your own,’ Tom said slowly. ‘And I don’t want to leave Agnes either.’

‘Mama,’ Georgie cried, thumping his sticky hands on the table to attract her attention. ‘Mama, more.’

‘That’s one more word he’s learned,’ Betty
observed with a fond smile. ‘I’ll miss seeing him growing up, I really will.’

‘He is getting to be a big boy, and a greedy one too,’ Effie said, giving him the last of the jam tart. ‘He’ll miss your cooking, Betty, but I’ll bring him to see you as often as I can, that’s a promise.’

‘I should hope so too.’ Betty sniffed, mopping her moist eyes with her apron.

Tom thumped his hand on the tabletop. ‘This is a bloody mess. And don’t tell me off for swearing because I feel like saying much worse things. I could kill Salter for what he’s done to us.’

‘We’ve got to forget about the Salters,’ Effie said earnestly. ‘It’s you I’m most concerned about, Tom.’

He groaned, running his hands through his already tousled hair. ‘I just don’t know what to do for the best.’

His obvious pain made Effie want to cry but she made an effort to sound positive. ‘I can’t tell you what to do. You must follow your heart.’

‘And what about you, Effie? What will you do?’

‘I’ll watch Georgie grow into a fine fellow like his Uncle Tom, and I’ll wait for Toby to be released from jail.’

‘Mr Westlake will find a way to set him free,’
Tom said hopefully. ‘And then you’ll be together forever.’

‘I hope and pray it will be that easy, but Mr Westlake has to find the money for a lawyer and even then an appeal could fail. It might be years before Toby is a free man.’

Betty pursed her lips. ‘Let’s hope he’s ready to settle down then. I’d hate to see you waste your young life waiting for a man who’ll break your heart.’

‘How can you even think such a thing?’ Effie cried passionately. ‘Toby loves me and he wants us to be together always; he said so.’

‘He’s part gypsy, Effie love. He might fly off like a canary let out of its cage.’ Betty lifted Georgie from his chair and set him down on the floor. ‘Toby Tapper was never in one place long enough to call it home. I’m just being realistic.’

‘He loves Effie,’ Tom said, frowning. ‘I know he does.’

‘All I’m saying is, you shouldn’t get your hopes up too high, and you should think hard before you throw in your lot with them at Marsh House.’ Betty shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m just thinking of what’s best for you, Effie.’

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