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Authors: Carol Rivers

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BOOK: Eve of the Isle
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Eve pulled the curtains. The room smelt musty and sweet. She made her way to one of the twin beds positioned far apart. Harold's bed was neatly made, but Joan was fast asleep in hers. Eve lowered the cup and saucer to the bedside cabinet.

The snoring was loud. Eve stood back, unwilling to wake her. Then suddenly Joan started. She threw back the clothes.

‘What are
you
doing in me bedroom?'

Eve pointed to the cup. ‘I've made you tea.'

Joan leaned up on one elbow, pushing back her frizzy hair from her face. She looked tired and worn without make-up. ‘I thought you'd be gone.'

‘It's early yet.'

‘Well, you know where the front door is.'

Eve felt a lurch of her stomach. ‘Joan, Harold said he heard our roads are still flooded.'

‘Well, you ain't staying here. Now bugger off, I've got a flaming great headache and want to sleep.'

Eve stood there, uncertain what to do. When Joan pulled the sheet over her head, she quietly left. Harold had said it was possible to influence his wife but Eve was doubtful.

She just wished she knew what was going on in the
outside world, so at least she'd know how long they'd have to stay here.

Suddenly there was a hammering on the front door. Eve jumped and Peg, Samuel and Albert all rushed from the kitchen.

‘Who is it?' demanded Peg, squinting through the small pane of opaque glass.

‘Officers of the law,' came the reply.

‘They might have come to tell us we can go home!' Eve opened the door immediately. Two policemen stood there.

‘You're the bottle and stopper from yesterday!' exclaimed Peg to the younger man.

‘Mrs Kumar?'

Eve nodded.

‘I am Sergeant Moody and this is P.C. Merritt. I understand from a Miss Wilkins at the Salvation Army that you was brought here from Isle Street?'

‘Yes, that's right.'

‘I would like you to accompany us to Wapping police station in order to assist us with our enquiries.'

Eve was startled. ‘What enquiries? I thought you'd come to tell us about our cottage.'

‘I don't know nothing about that,' barked the policeman. ‘Our records show that a man named Raj Kumar disappeared aboard the
Star of Bengal
five years ago.'

Eve's stomach tightened. ‘Yes . . . yes, he was my husband.'

The policeman looked her up and down. ‘A body
was washed up in the flood yesterday. A lascar, with evidence on him to show he crewed for the same ship.'

Eve felt sick, and as the policeman opened his mouth to continue, she slowly buckled at the knees.

‘What's going on?'

Through the fogginess in her head Eve heard the sound of Joan's angry demand.

‘Mum nearly fainted, Aunty Joan.' Samuel held Eve's hand tightly. ‘It's about our dad.'

Eve struggled to stand straight assisted by the young policeman who seemed to be holding her up.

‘What time of day do you call this, waking people up at the crack of dawn?' Joan continued relentlessly as she glared at the policemen.

‘We are here on official business, madam. I am Sergeant Moody—'

‘I don't care who you are,' interrupted Joan, holding her head and groaning. ‘I want you out right this moment. Tongues will never stop wagging if they see you lot. Coppers ain't welcome round this way, so 'oppit.'

Sergeant Moody pulled back his shoulders. ‘A death has to be investigated, madam.'

‘Are you telling me you think this person is my husband?' Eve interrupted hastily.

‘We don't know who it is,' said P.C. Merritt, speaking for the first time. ‘It's unlikely that you will be able to help us, but since the case has been left open we are obliged to follow it up.'

‘You'd better go, girl,' said Peg, placing her hands on the boys' shoulders. ‘I'll look after the nippers for you.'

‘This ain't a nursery!' spluttered Joan going red in the face.

‘I'm sorry, I'll try not to be long,' Eve apologized.

Sergeant Moody laid a heavy hand on Eve's shoulder. ‘The car is downstairs.'

Before Eve could say more, she was being marched down the four flights of stone steps by her escort. The Blakeys on the policemen's boots echoed into the air as they hurried to the waiting car. It was a sound she would never forget.

Eve sat in the rear of the vehicle, her mind in turmoil. This dead person couldn't be Raj; it was impossible. After five years she had accepted that he was dead even though no authority had ever told her for certain.

Despite her thoughts, she was suddenly aware of all the storm damage. Gutters were blocked and overflowing; rotting fruit and vegetables, bricks and glass had been washed up in the road and people were chucking water out of their front doors.

It was much worse than she had imagined. She wanted to ask about it, but the two policemen were silent. Sergeant Moody drove fast through the puddles and splashed the pedestrians. A few fists went up and Eve could understand why the police were disliked in the East End. If they called at your house it was either to bring bad news or arrest you. They were always on the
side of justice, supposedly, but the ordinary man didn't experience much of that. But P.C. Merritt hadn't seemed so bad. He was young though, and hadn't yet become hard-bitten like many of his profession.

When they arrived at Wapping morgue, the two policemen climbed out.

P.C. Merritt opened her door. ‘This way, Mrs Kumar,' he said in a polite voice.

She felt her legs tremble as they walked inside.

‘I'll complete the paperwork,' said Sergeant Moody, nodding to the office. ‘P.C. Merritt will accompany you to the identification room.'

P.C. Merritt looked down at Eve. ‘It's just along here.'

She felt a wave of nausea as they walked down a long corridor smelling unpleasantly of disinfectant and another underlying smell that she knew was death.

‘Would you like to sit down for a moment?' he asked as they came to a halt.

‘No I'd prefer to get it over.'

They walked into a long, cold room. Eve's head swam. What if it was Raj?

A man in overalls was mopping the stone floor. He quickly disappeared and an attendant came to stand by a table with a white sheet draped across it.

P.C. Merritt removed his helmet. He said softly, ‘Are you ready?'

Eve nodded.

‘You can pull it back now,' instructed the policeman.

She felt a dropping sensation as she gazed upon the
face of a young black man. The water had swollen his body and bloated his features. He had close-cropped hair and a large nose, but in no way did he resemble her beautiful Raj. Eve couldn't stop herself from sinking against the young constable.

He supported her gently. ‘Is it your husband?'

‘No,' she mumbled.

The sheet was replaced and he led her away.

‘I'm sorry you had to go through that,' said P.C. Merritt, seating her on a hard chair in the corridor. ‘I'll get you some water.'

Eve hadn't been prepared for this, and she wasn't sure which was worse; thinking the dead man may have been Raj or that Raj may have been alive all this time and she hadn't known it. But he would have contacted her if he was alive. Of course he was dead. Nothing else would stop Raj from returning to his family.

‘Here, sip this.' P.C. Merritt returned and held a glass to her lips. ‘Looking at the dead is not a pleasant duty.'

Eve drank slowly then returned the glass. ‘Thank you.'

‘I'll go and tell my superior the outcome.'

When she was alone, Eve sat quietly as if in a trance. That poor man was not Raj but he was someone's son, husband or brother. He had once been in the prime of life. It seemed such a waste.

‘How are you feeling?'

Eve jumped as she realized the constable had returned and was sitting beside her.

‘Better now.'

‘From the records I see your husband was lost overboard and his body never recovered.'

‘Yes.'

‘And there's been no news in five years?'

Eve shook her head. ‘I tried to find out from the port authorities exactly what happened, but they didn't know. They seemed to think it wasn't their job, but that of the shipping company or the Indian police.'

‘So no one ever followed it up?'

‘Raj wasn't British,' Eve said as she gazed into the direct stare of the young man. ‘It might have been different if he was. But he was born in Goa, India and half Portuguese.'

P.C. Merritt frowned. ‘Did he have any friends who sailed with him that you knew? Someone you could ask about the accident?'

Eve shrugged. ‘We were married at St Francis of Assisi on Grove Road where a lot of lascars worship. I went with the boys to Mass there hoping to recognize someone that knew Raj. But I didn't see anyone. When the ship sailed out of port, there was nothing more I could do.' She frowned. ‘Do you think I will ever find out what really happened to my husband?'

‘I wish I could say it was likely, but after all this time . . .' He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. ‘And it's very distressing for you to have to perform this duty.'

Eve looked down. ‘How did you know this poor man was on the
Star
?'

‘We don't for certain. But he was wearing an ensign
that denoted the owners of the
Star
though the ship has been out of commission for some time. This man may never have sailed on her, of course, he may have purchased the jacket or been given it.'

Eve shivered. She wanted to leave this place now and try to forget the sight of that poor young sailor.

‘I'll drive you home,' said P.C. Merritt as she stood up. ‘Although I'm not an official police car driver, my sergeant has given me permission to take you.'

Eve took in a deep breath of fresh air as they left the morgue. The constable opened the door. ‘If you sit up front, you'll be able to see the scenery. This vehicle is on loan from the city, whilst the emergency is on. It's a rare occurrence, as it's only Scotland Yard that has the transport section.'

As she took her seat, Eve thought he wasn't like an ordinary policeman, but then, he was new to the profession and had plenty of time to become like Sergeant Moody.

Unlike his colleague he was considerate of pedestrians and steered clear of the puddles when possible.

‘Everyone seems to have suffered,' said Eve as she took in the flooded basements of the buildings all being mopped up and cleaned by every conceivable method.

‘Yes, it was certainly a shock to the city,' he nodded. ‘An untold amount of merchandise on the wharfs and quays is ruined and even the electricity sub-station at Poplar was put out of action.'

‘Is it true people have died?'

‘At the last count, fourteen.'

‘Do you know what's happened at Isle Street?'

‘Still underwater I'm afraid.'

Eve sighed. ‘Harold was right then.'

‘Harold?'

‘He's Peg's brother-in-law, Joan's husband, the lady we are staying with. They've agreed to put us up for one night, but we was hoping to get back to the cottage today. The boys should be at school while I go selling. At this time of the year, every penny counts.'

‘What do you sell?'

‘Flowers and cress. Even fruit in winter to get by.'

‘It will take a while to return to normal. Perhaps it's a good thing you're with relatives for the time being.'

‘I don't know about that,' said Eve doubtfully.

‘I'm a Stepney lad myself,' said the young man breezily.

‘Still live with Mum and Dad. We were lucky as we only had the outside lav to worry about. The sewers took a pounding and consequently so did our WCs.'

Eve smiled. ‘The boys were asking about the Great Stink. Looks like they're going to find out for themselves when we get home.'

P.C. Merritt frowned. ‘Lots of people are in the same boat, I'm afraid.'

Eve turned in time to catch the twinkle in his blue eyes. They both laughed at the unintended pun.

Quickly she looked away. Without a doubt, he was definitely not a run of the mill copper.

Chapter Five

P
.C. Merritt brought the car to a halt outside Bambury Buildings. ‘Thank you, Mrs Kumar, that wasn't a pleasant duty to perform.'

‘What will happen to him – the dead man?' Eve asked as they stood on the pavement in the cold January air.

‘There'll be a post mortem to decide the cause of death.'

‘I hope you find his relatives. I know how it feels to lose someone and not know what happened to them. Not to be able to bury them or bring your grief to a close.'

The young constable looked at the run-down tenement. ‘I wish there was more we could do for you.'

Eve didn't know whether to believe him. He seemed too considerate and polite to be a policeman. She turned away.

‘Mrs Kumar, I was wondering . . .'

Eve looked over her shoulder.

‘I could look in on your cottage, assess the damage?'

‘Why would you do that?' She was suspicious of his motives. Did he want to know what they had, to poke around inside and see what he could find out like all policemen?

‘The Force is doing its best to help islanders.' He looked a little uncomfortable under his helmet. ‘It's just an offer of help, that's all.'

Eve smiled ruefully. ‘We don't usually get many of them.'

‘Well, you've got one now.'

Just then the twins rushed out to greet her. ‘Mum! Mum!'

Eve scooped them into her arms. ‘What's the matter?'

‘Aunty Joan's fell over.'

‘Is she hurt?'

‘Dunno. Come and see.' They grabbed her hands and Eve was hurried up the stone steps where a small crowd had gathered on the top floor. ‘Silly cow,' one of them said as she approached. ‘One day she'll do herself a real damage.'

BOOK: Eve of the Isle
11.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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