Cinderella Sister (16 page)

Aggie peered out of the window. ‘I can see the second engine being made ready to go. It looks like the other watch has been called out on this one, Nell. It must be a big fire.’

‘Go and see who it is, Lily,’ Nell said wearily. ‘I must finish balancing the household accounts. Matt will want to see them in the morning.’

Lily was only too happy to oblige. She ran downstairs to open the door which led into the alleyway. Standing there with his helmet in his hands was Foster, one of the younger firemen from the day watch.

‘We’ve been called out to the blaze in the tobacco factory, and we’re a man down. Jones slipped on the icy pavement and we think he’s broke his arm. Can Miss Nell come and take a look at him?’

‘He should go to hospital,’ Lily said cautiously. ‘I don’t think Nell could do much to help.’

‘This is an emergency. If Miss Nell can just strap him up Jones could get a cab but the poor bloke is in agony and we’ve got to leave right away.’

Lily nodded her head. ‘All right. I’ll fetch her.’

The horse was ready and waiting in the shafts and the firemen had donned their helmets, but there was an uneasy silence as Lily and Nell made their way to the back of the building. They found Fireman Jones lying on a pallet, grey-faced and in obvious pain.

Ted Harris, the senior fireman, greeted them with a worried frown. ‘Can you fix him up, Miss Nell?’

She went down on her knees regardless of the muddy floor that was soiling the skirt of her one good dress. ‘Can you move your fingers, Mr Jones?’

He shook his head, biting his lip. ‘No, miss. It’s broke all right.’

‘There’s not much I can do for you other than to
strap it to your body,’ Nell said apologetically. ‘Could someone find me a length of cloth or webbing, please?’

Ted shook his head. ‘We’ve nothing like that here, Miss Nell.’

‘Then I’ll just have to use my shawl.’ Nell slipped the shawl off her shoulders. ‘If you could just raise Mr Jones a little, I’ll wrap this round him.’

Ted hoisted Jones none too gently into a sitting position causing the injured man to groan in a way that set Lily’s teeth on edge. Nell worked quickly, tying the soft woollen cloth so that the arm was clamped to Jones’ body. He slumped back onto the pallet with his eyes closed and beads of sweat standing out on his forehead.

‘He must go to hospital straight away,’ Nell said, rising to her feet.

‘Foster,’ Ted shouted to the fireman waiting by the cart. ‘Go and find a cab. Jones has to go to hospital.’

‘He’ll need someone to accompany him,’ Nell said anxiously. ‘He might pass out from the pain.’

‘I can’t spare anyone, miss. We must leave right away and we’re two men down now. Young Connor Reilly has been poorly all day and I let him off early just before we finished our shift. We’re short of a driver now as well as the second fireman, and this is going to be an all-night job.’

‘I can drive the wagon,’ Lily said impulsively.

Ted stared at her as if she had gone mad. ‘Out of the question, miss. We can’t have a novice driving a machine like this, let alone a slip of a girl. It’s against the rules and regulations.’

‘I don’t see why,’ Lily said calmly. ‘I can handle the reins as well as any of my brothers. They taught me to drive a cart when I was knee high to a grasshopper.’

Nell shook her head. ‘Mr Harris is right. It’s much too dangerous. Matt would never let you do such a thing, besides which I want you to help me get Mr Jones to hospital.’

‘There’s a cab waiting, chief,’ Foster called from the entrance to the fire station. ‘There was one passing by and he’s ready to go.’

‘Come here then and help this young lady get Jones into the cab.’ Ted turned his head to give Nell a searching look. ‘Are you sure you can handle this?’

‘Of course.’

‘And I can drive your fire engine,’ Lily said eagerly. ‘You could waive the rules and regulations in an emergency.’

He stared at her for a moment and then he nodded his head. ‘Very well, but you leave the scene as soon as we get there. I can’t allow a civilian’s life to be put at risk.’

‘Lily, no,’ Nell said, catching her by the arm. ‘I forbid this.’

Lily wriggled free. ‘I’ll be all right. Don’t worry about me, Nell. I’ll come straight home, I promise.’

‘There’s no time to waste,’ Ted said urgently. ‘We have to go now.’ He strode off towards the fire engine and Fireman Foster hoisted Jones to his feet, hooking his good arm over his shoulder as he walked him out of the station to the waiting cab.

‘You will be careful, Lily,’ Nell said, giving her a quick hug.

Lily smiled and nodded. This was an experience she had never thought she might share with her brothers. It was going to be a great adventure. She picked up her skirts and ran to the engine. Ted tossed her unceremoniously up onto the driver’s seat.

‘There’s a helmet and a jacket on a hook behind you, miss. Put them on quick and get going.’ He climbed nimbly onto the cart with Foster and another fireman following suit. Shrugging on the jacket, which was several sizes too large, Lily rammed the helmet on her head and with a flick of the whip she encouraged the horse to a brisk trot. The cold night air almost took her breath away as she urged the animal to a canter. The sleety rain had stopped but the roads were still slippery and treacherous with huge puddles that spewed up volumes of spray as the wheels sliced through them. She stood up in the well of the cart, cracking the whip as she handled the reins with supreme confidence. She could smell smoke now, and to the east, in the direction of Limehouse, the sky had turned a dull red. She clanged the bell, shouting at drunken pedestrians weaving across the road seemingly oblivious to the danger of crossing a street in the path of an oncoming fire engine.

The scene that met her eyes above Free Trade Wharf was one that might have depicted the gates of hell. A warehouse fire had spread from one building to the next. Great tongues of flame leapt high into the sky sending showers of sparks cascading down like a
mighty firework display. The acrid smell of burning filled the air and noxious plumes of black smoke drifted skywards. Silhouetted against the orange and crimson glow, Lily could see her brothers and their helpers vainly trying to contain the blaze. The men on her engine leapt into action and she found herself suddenly redundant and under strict instructions to go home. She took off the helmet and shook out her hair. She was fascinated to see it gleam in the light of the inferno as if it had absorbed the glow of the flames. She climbed down from the fire engine and was suddenly aware of a group of reporters standing round with notebooks in their hands. A photographer was bent over a camera on a tripod with his head hidden beneath a dark cloth. This very moment would be recorded and reproduced on the front pages of tomorrow’s newspapers. She felt her stomach contract with a buzz of excitement. She was in the midst of a great drama and it was thrilling.

She was about to replace the helmet on the cart when one of the reporters broke away from the group and ran towards her. ‘Excuse me, miss. Did I see you driving that contraption?’

Lily hesitated. She did not want Mr Harris to get into trouble for stretching the rules. ‘Well, I, er …’

‘Put the helmet on again, miss. This calls for a photograph.’

‘Oh, no,’ Lily protested, attempting to take off the telltale jacket. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Please keep it on, miss. What a scoop this will make. I can just see the headlines tomorrow – Young Girl Drives Fire Engine.’ The reporter paused, frowning.
‘No, that’s not right.’ He beckoned frantically to the photographer as he emerged from his cover. ‘Franklin, come here. I want a picture of this girl.’ He turned back to Lily. ‘What’s your name, ducks?’

‘It’s Lily, but I really don’t want my photo taken, sir.’

‘Lily,’ he mused, tapping his teeth with his pencil. ‘Lily Saves the Day. No, that’s dreadful. Lily in the Smoke – nah.’

The photographer came up behind him, setting up his tripod. ‘What are you on about, Christian?’

‘Just thinking of a headline, old boy. This heroine is called Lily. I was trying to think of something that would appeal to the great British public.’

Franklin angled his head, staring at Lily. ‘Look at that hair. It’s the colour of the fire itself. What about – Lily in the Flames?’

Christian slapped him on the back with a loud guffaw. ‘Splendid. What a headline. I should get a raise out of this.’ He hurried to Lily’s side, taking the helmet from her hand and placing it on her head. ‘There you are, ducks. Stand still and smile if you can, but don’t look too happy. Try to look like the heroine you are. Don’t move a muscle, love. You’ll go down in history.’

Next morning when her brothers returned exhausted, filthy and drained of energy from fighting the fire, Lily braced herself to face Matt’s anger.

‘What the hell were you thinking of, Lily?’ He threw the newspaper down on the table with an exclamation of disgust. ‘You’ve made us a laughing stock and brought the Metropolitan Fire Brigade into disrepute.
Poor old Harris will get a wigging for allowing a civilian to drive the fire engine, and a girl at that.’

‘Aw, don’t go on at her,’ Mark said, his wide grin exposing a row of white teeth against his soot-blackened face. ‘It’s Christmas Eve and we’re famous, brother. We’ve got our names in the newspapers.’

Luke put an arm around Lily, giving her a cuddle. ‘I think she was very brave, and if you look at it from a practical point of view, Matt, she probably helped save our lives. The fire was getting out of hand and we would have been in a sorry state if Harris and the others hadn’t turned up when they did.’

‘It’s all my fault,’ Nell said, hanging her head. ‘I should have stopped her, but I couldn’t let poor Mr Jones go to hospital on his own.’

Matt’s harsh expression softened. ‘You did the right thing, Nell. It’s young Lily who must take the blame for this. She might have been killed.’

Lily sensed that anxiety was behind her brother’s anger and she managed a watery smile. ‘I’m sorry, Matt. I’m really sorry.’

‘Well don’t you ever do a thing like that again,’ he said gruffly.

‘How about a nice cup of tea?’ Aggie suggested, taking the teapot off the trivet in front of the fire. ‘You boys look as though you could do with some breakfast. There’s porridge in the Dutch oven that’s been simmering gently all night.’

‘I could eat a horse,’ Matt said, rolling up his sleeves. ‘A cup of tea and a bowl of porridge would go down a treat.’

‘Not until you’ve washed off some of that soot,’ Nell said with mock severity. ‘You look like a trio of chimney sweeps and you smell terrible.’

‘Aw, Nell, don’t make us go out into the freezing yard,’ Luke pleaded.

Matt took him by the shoulders and propelled him towards the door. ‘Nell’s right. We’re not fit to sit down at the table. I know I stink of soot and worse and so do you. C’mon, Mark, that includes you.’

Aggie and Nell exchanged meaningful glances as the three brothers trooped out of the living room. ‘It’s not right,’ Aggie muttered. ‘They shouldn’t have to wash themselves out there in the bitter cold.’

‘I know,’ Nell said, shaking her head. ‘I’ve been looking for a house to rent ever since we moved in here, but the ones I’ve seen are either too small or too expensive.’

‘I could go out and look for work,’ Lily suggested tentatively. ‘I mean, there’s no need for me to stay at home now. Perhaps Molly could find me something at her place.’

‘She was in a filthy mood this morning because I’ve got the day off and she hasn’t. Let’s hope she cheers up before tomorrow.’ Nell regarded Lily with a thoughtful frown. ‘But what would you do, Lily? More to the point, what could you do? You’d end up working in a factory or washing dishes in a chophouse.’

‘Yes,’ Aggie said, nodding her head sagely. ‘And you can’t expect me to heave water up and down those steep stairs, or bring coal up from the yard. I’m not as young as I used to be.’

Lily knew she was beaten. The sort of work she might expect to get would pay poorly and would make little difference to the family fortunes.

‘Don’t look so glum, ducks,’ Aggie said, handing her a cup of tea. ‘Drink this, and have a bowl of porridge before those greedy gannets eat the lot.’

‘Thanks, Aggie, but I’m not very hungry.’ Lily sipped the tea and went to sit by the window, leaving Nell and Aggie to discuss the preparations for Christmas Day. Sounds of movement were coming from the room next door which meant that Grandpa had awakened and would soon be demanding his breakfast. The events of last night were beginning to fade like the memory of a half-forgotten dream. Had she really driven the fire engine through the frosty streets, ringing the bell and shouting like a madwoman at anyone who got in her way? Had she really witnessed flames shooting almost as high as the stars? Had the sky been tinged crimson, vermilion and rose madder with streaks of orange and cadmium yellow? Her fingers itched to put the scene on paper and she wished, not for the first time, that she had the opportunity to use oil paints in order to get the depth and strength of colour she needed to recreate the dramatic scene.

‘Where’s me breakfast?’ Grandpa Larkin burst into the room still wearing his nightcap and nightshirt. ‘I’m faint from lack of nourishment. What’s the use of keeping a pack of women if they won’t look after a fellow?’

Nell leapt to her feet. ‘Aggie will give you a cup of tea, Grandpa. But don’t you think you should get
dressed before breakfast? It’s very cold and we don’t want you catching a chill.’

‘Bah! Nonsense. I’m as strong as an ox and I want me breakfast.’ Grandpa eyed the Dutch oven with a malevolent sneer. ‘And I don’t want that pap. I want bread and cheese or a nice tasty bit of bacon, and a pint of porter would go down well.’

‘You’ll get what you’re given, old man,’ Aggie said, bristling. ‘All hell’s been let loose here since last night, and you’ve slept through the lot. No one has had the time to go to the bakery for bread, and a nice hot cup of tea will do you far more good than the devil’s brew.’

‘The devil’s brew?’ Grandpa cackled. ‘There’s nothing in the Good Book that says a man can’t have a drink when he wants one.’ He raised his hand as Aggie opened her mouth to argue. ‘Didn’t Jesus turn water into wine? He wouldn’t have had any truck with those mealy-mouthed temperance folk.’