Poor Little Rich Girl (48 page)

The tram jerking to a halt brought Hester’s mind
back to the present. This was her stop and she had best get down and continue to consider what she should do as she made her way to Number 10. She was sorry now that she had let her temper get the better of her and decided that she would go up to her room, get herself a sandwich and a cup of tea, and then seek Dick out to make up the quarrel.

She rounded the corner, walking slowly, head bent, thoughts a million miles away, crossed the Court and entered Number 10. She headed for the kitchen then stopped short, sniffing. There was a decided smell of burning in the air and judging from the clatter, and the sound of voices, the kitchen was already occupied; it would be quicker, and easier, if she went up to the attic room and boiled the kettle up there.

Hester climbed the first flight of stairs and began on the second, realising with a slight frisson of alarm that the smell of burning was growing stronger. As she began to ascend the last flight of stairs, she glanced up and saw thick smoke billowing out of the door of their attic room even as a figure emerged and began to descend the stairs towards her. It was Eileen, clad in a bloodstained nightdress, with her hair hanging across her face and her whole demeanour that of someone more asleep than awake.

‘Eileen! What on earth’s happened?’ Even as Hester spoke, a fresh gush of acrid smoke came pouring out of the room her friend had just vacated, and to Hester’s horror it was closely followed by a tongue of flame. She seized her friend by the shoulders and began to hustle her down the stairs, saying as she did so: ‘You’re covered in blood, queen! Better get out of this smoke before you pass out. There’s girls in the kitchen; we’ll get one of them to fetch the fire brigade
before the whole house goes up. Do you know how the fire started?’

Eileen had been stumbling down the stairs, clearly scarcely conscious of what she was doing, but suddenly she stopped short and gave a terrified wail. She turned and began to try to retrace her steps. ‘I must ha’ kicked over the paraffin stove after I’d used the hot water, and … me baby, me baby! Oh, Gawd, I’ve gorra go back, queen. Me baby’s still in there. I purrit in a box under the bed and fell asleep. Oh, Hester, me baby’s goin’ to die!’

‘I’ll go back. You’re in no state …’ Hester was beginning, when a figure came charging up the stairs towards them. It was Dick, and Hester had never felt so glad to see anyone in her whole life. She thrust her friend into Dick’s arms. ‘Take her into the fresh air and find a nurse or someone.’ And scarcely waiting to see whether or not she was obeyed, she raced up the stairs once more.

The wind had blown the door to the bedroom closed again, or at least so Hester supposed. But as soon as she opened the door, she realised that it was not going to be easy to reach Eileen’s bed. A good deal of the bedding was already smouldering and when she put out a hand to clutch the bedstead it was red hot and agonising pains shot up the palms of her hands. Wrenching herself free, she crouched lower yet, pushing herself beneath the bed, and saw the box. Hester thought wildly that the baby might already be dead from smoke inhalation, but even so, she reached into the box for the blanket-wrapped bundle within, backed out from under the bed and at last stood up, the child in her arms. For a moment, she was so confused by the choking smoke that she did not know which way escape lay, then she saw the
outline of the window and ran away from it towards the door. The heat was appalling and the pain in her chest as she sucked desperately at the burning air made her double up. She saw, as she neared it, that the door frame was alight but knew she must pass through it in order to escape from certain death. Staggering and weaving with weakness, she regained the landing and realised that her hair and one side of her jacket were actually burning, but with the baby in her arms her one thought now was to get as far away from the conflagration as possible before putting the child down to see to herself.

As she crossed the small landing, she saw the stairs and the banister rail begin to waver before her. There was someone climbing the stairs, calling her name, his voice shocked and faint. She said: ‘Take the baby, take the …’ And then the stairs seemed to rush towards her and she plunged into darkness.

‘Well, my dear? Isn’t that an improvement on how you looked a week ago, when you were brought in here? I declare, I never knew you had such curly locks, but that young nurse had a real flair for cutting hair. A professional hairdresser couldn’t have made a better job of it.’

Sister Partridge was holding a mirror in front of Hester so that she could admire her new appearance. For the first few days in hospital she had been far too poorly to worry about her looks. Because of the burns to her hands and arms, she had been swathed in bandages and had not, at first, realised that a great deal of her long black hair had burned off. Indeed, she had scarcely thought of anything but the pain she was suffering and had simply lain between the sheets, accepting the pain-killing
draughts which were given her by the nurses at four-hourly intervals.

Dick had been a constant and loving visitor and her one contact with the outside world. Hester had told him, as soon as she was able to speak coherently, that she had been wrong even to consider going back to India. ‘I couldn’t bear to leave you for three minutes, let alone for three months,’ she had said tiredly. ‘Why, you saved my life, Dick.’

Dick had pooh-poohed this remark, but had been delighted that she no longer considered the trip to India an option. ‘We’ll marry just as soon as we may,’ he promised her fervently. ‘Oh, Hester, I do love you!’

After that, he had told her that Eileen and her baby were in a small side ward. Miraculously, the baby had suffered less than any of them. Dick had snatched the baby from Hester’s arms even as she fell, had beaten out the flames smouldering in her hair and on the shoulders of her jacket, and had somehow contrived to carry both Hester and the child down the stairs and out into the fresh air. The fire brigade and an ambulance had arrived by then and soon Hester, Eileen and the new baby were on their way to hospital.

Naturally, Dick had followed them to the hospital as soon as he could and they had confirmed that the child was fit and well, despite its dreadful experience. Eileen, it appeared, had fallen deeply asleep after the birth struggle and had awoken in a daze to find the paraffin stove on its side, the room on fire, and choking smoke filling the air. She had stumbled out of the room to give the alarm, initially forgetting about her new baby in her panic, and because Hester had acted so quickly was hardly the worse for her experience.

‘Eileen wants to call the baby James,’ Dick had told her, ‘and Tommy thinks it’s a grand name.’

‘So Tommy knows,’ Hester had said in a weak, wondering voice. ‘I thought she’d never tell him. She didn’t mean to, you know. She meant to have the baby adopted.’

‘Many a mother says that before they set eyes on their child,’ Dick had said wisely. ‘She wasn’t nearly as badly hurt as you, so she’s been up and about, doting on that little feller, for a couple o’ days. As for Tommy, he came rushing to the hospital as soon as he heard what had happened. He said it were a shame the baby weren’t his, but Eileen told him the whole story and he says he’s happy to take young Jim on.’

‘Take Jim on?’ Hester had said feebly. ‘Why should he take Jim on?’

‘Because he’s going to marry Eileen, you daft ha’p’orth,’ Dick had said fondly, gently stroking one finger down the side of her face. ‘They’re only young, the pair of ’em, but I think they’ve got the right idea. They aren’t goin’ to wait till they can afford it, they’re goin’ to dive straight in the deep end. Good for them, I say!’

Hester had agreed, rather listlessly, that this seemed sensible. She had then drifted off into a sort of uncomfortable half sleep; the result of all the pain-killing drugs, she supposed.

Now, however, she looked at herself critically in the mirror. ‘Don’t forget, Sister, that I can’t compare the way I look now with the way I looked when I was brought in, because none of you would let me have a mirror,’ she reminded the older woman. ‘I was lucky, wasn’t I, that the flames only got at the back of my head? Though my eyelashes look a bit frizzled,’ she added.

‘Oh, eyelashes will grow in no time,’ Sister assured her. ‘And tomorrow your bandages should come right off at last. And the day after, or perhaps the day after that, you’ll be able to go home!’

‘But I haven’t got a home,’ Hester said dolefully. ‘Oh, I know Mr and Mrs Maskell said they’d fit us into one of their other houses, but that was a week ago. By now they’re probably full up again.’

Sister was about to reply when another voice interrupted her. ‘Don’t talk daft, Hester Elliott. You’re moving in with us Baileys just as soon as the hospital will let you go. You can share with young Phyllis until – until we’ve sorted out something else for you.’ It was Dick, a bunch of bronze chrysanthemums in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. He took Sister’s place by the bed and watched the little woman bustle off, then bent and kissed Hester’s cheek. ‘You’re looking a lot more like my own little Hester,’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘How pretty your hair is, cut short like a boy’s and all curly! You should always wear it like that!’

He went to pull up a chair but Hester shook her head at him and patted the bed. ‘Sit here,’ she commanded. ‘This is the first day I’ve felt really well, not a bit muddled or stupid, the way I have been feeling. The pain was so much easier yesterday that I stopped taking the pain-killing medicine and now I feel livelier and more like myself. Tell me what’s been happening, Dick.’

Dick settled himself comfortably on the bed. ‘Well, I’ve been interferin’ in your life in a way which will probably make you want to clack my head,’ he said genially. ‘For a start, I got the letter from Mrs Hetherington-Smith – the one you read to me – out of your handbag, so that I could write to her myself
and tell her what’s been happening. I remembered she had said she would appreciate a quick reply, as she would be bringing Lonnie back to England if you decided not to take up her offer of some time in India, so I thought it only right to explain about the fire an’ all.’

‘Oh, thank you, Dick,’ Hester said gratefully. ‘I’m so sorry I lost my temper and said awful things but you did rather ask for it, you know! Saying I’d go off the rails if you weren’t there to keep me on the straight and narrow, indeed!’

‘I was a fool to even think such a thing – not that I did think it, of course, it were just the old demon jealousy making itself felt,’ Dick said ruefully. ‘Honest to God, I think me mam must have dropped me on me head when I were a baby, ’cos only an addle-brain would imagine anything so impossible. No, what was really eating away at me was the thought of being separated for so long. Why, when I hopped on the next tram and followed you into Number 10 and saw the smoke billowing down the stairs and you disappearing into it, I thought I’d lost you for good … My heart nearly stopped and I knew then that I’d rather live with you in a hovel than with anyone else in a palace. Oh, Hester, I …’

The bell for the end of visiting interrupted them. All around them people were saying their farewells. Men were giving their wives self-conscious pecks, mothers were giving last-minute advice, nurses were coming down the ward to see the visitors off the premises, or so it seemed. Dick stood up with the others but did not immediately leave. He said quietly: ‘Do you understand what I’m saying, Hes? I wanted the best for you, but when it comes down to it, perhaps to be together is the best thing for both of
us. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, nor how wonderful it will be when we can talk, take a walk, make plans … oh, Hes!’

He leaned over and cupped Hester’s face in his hands. He was bending closer with the obvious intention of kissing her on the mouth, when a voice from the next bed said: ‘Hey up, gals! There’s monkey business afoot over there – that young feller will be climbin’ into kip wi’ her any minute! D’you think we ought to call Sister and tell ’er what’s goin’ on?’

The speaker was a fat, fair-haired woman in the bed opposite Hester’s and she laughed loudly when Hester, crimson-faced, pushed Dick away. ‘Don’t you go a-shovin’ of the young feller like that,’ the woman continued breezily, giving Dick a broad wink. ‘We don’t gerra lot of entertainment round here; a nice little love story would cheer us all up no end. Go on, young feller, show us what you’re made of, give the girl somethin’ to remember you by!’

Dick laughed but contented himself with the lightest of kisses on Hester’s brow before he moved away from the bed. ‘Now you’ve spoiled everything,’ he told the woman. ‘I can’t make love to me fiancée with a couple of dozen lovely ladies – in nightgowns – lookin’ on. But Sister says you’re comin’ home tomorrow, Hester, so I won’t have to keep me kisses to meself for too long. Oh, and by the way.’ He fished around in his pocket and produced a tiny box. ‘Want to take a look? I meant to save it till your bandages came off but I dare say you can wear it round your neck on a bit of string till then.’

With her hands still swathed in dressings, Hester could not possibly have opened the box so Dick did it for her, revealing the tiny gold and pearl ring within. ‘It didn’t cost much,’ he muttered, ‘and I’d
rather you chose for yourself, but it’ll do until you’re up and about.’ And before Hester could do more than exclaim with pleasure, he had turned and left the ward.

As soon as he had gone Hester got carefully out of bed and went round the other beds, showing off the tiny ring. It was much admired, and most of her fellow-patients told her that Dick was ‘a grand young feller, so handsome’… and if they were ten years younger she’d have to watch out.