The Cockney Sparrow (21 page)

‘Of course. I’d do anything for Edith.’

‘Good man. We’ll take Mrs Skinner to the Crown and Anchor. My old lady will look after her. She’s as good a nurse as Florence Nightingale ever was. You lot can make your own way to Upper Thames Street.’

‘Upper Thames Street – it has a good ring to it.’ Augustus got to his feet. ‘I’m back in charge of this troupe. Never let it be said that Augustus Throop failed when duty called. Ned, young chap, if you would be so good as to procure a hackney carriage, I will get the idiot housemaids to pack our few belongings in a bag. If the young ladies will make Edith ready for the journey, I will settle up with Mrs Blunt.’ He caught Clemency’s hand as she was about to mount the stairs. ‘I do hope this new lodging will be commensurate with our status, my dear. After all, you are a star and I am your man of business.’

‘This is a joke – isn’t it?’ Augustus stood in the nave staring about him, his eyes wide with horror. ‘You can’t imagine that we could stay here, Clem?’

Ronnie set Jack down on the front pew. ‘I’ve kipped in worse places than this.’

‘It’s freezing cold,’ Fancy said, shivering. ‘We’ll catch our death or worse.’

‘You didn’t have to come. If you don’t like it you’re free to go back to Mrs Blunt’s place.’ Clemency hugged her cloak round her. It was cold, bitterly so, but no one, not even Stone would think to look for them in a church.

‘You won’t get rid of me that easy.’ Fancy huddled down on the pew next to Jack.

‘It ain’t so bad,’ Ronnie said, blowing into his cupped hands and rubbing them together. ‘It’s a bit chilly, but there must be a vestry or a crypt that we could use for sleeping. And the good thing is that it’s free.’

‘Now that,’ Augustus said, smiling, ‘is a good point. And it’s a lot better than sleeping under Blackfriars Bridge, which I have done during lean times in the past.’

‘We’ll move on as soon as I’m certain that Stone has given up on me,’ Clemency said, hoping she sounded more positive than she was feeling. ‘Maybe you could get me a part in one of them big theatres up West, Augustus. With Jack learning to read music and me studying me words, there’s no end to what we could do.’

Jack took a packet of Cinderella cigarettes from his pocket and offered one to Ronnie. ‘Let’s make the best of this. At least it ain’t the middle of
winter. We’ll be fine, so long as we stick together.’

Clemency flashed him a grateful smile, but it froze on her lips as she met Fancy’s resentful gaze. ‘All right, Fancy. I know you don’t like it, but if you’re going to stay I suggest you give me a hand to make the place liveable.’

Reluctantly, Fancy got to her feet and followed her into the vestry. She wrinkled her nose. ‘It stinks in here.’

‘Look here.’ Clemency spun round, her patience stretched to snapping point. ‘Stop bloody moaning and give me a hand to make this place comfortable.’

‘Comfortable?’ Fancy looked up at the vaulted ceiling festooned with cobwebs, hanging like veils of black lace. Her gaze travelled down the whitewashed walls where the plaster had fallen off in huge clumps and lay on the floor like lumpy custard. A stack of old hymnals in the corner sprouted hairy blue mould, and the floorboards were coated with mouse and bat droppings.

Their eyes met and Fancy’s lips quivered into a grimace that was half laughing, half crying. Clemency felt a gurgle of near hysterical laughter rising in her throat. Before she knew it, they were hanging on each other’s shoulders, laughing helplessly.

‘I hate you, Clemency Skinner,’ Fancy giggled.

‘Fains I, Fancy Friday.’ Clemency wiped her eyes on her skirt. ‘Looks like we’re stuck with each other.’

‘Fains!’ Fancy held her stomach. ‘I got bellyache from laughing so much.’

‘They’ll think we’ve gone barking mad,’ Clemency said, hiccuping. ‘Let’s be sensible for once, Fancy. What do we need the most?’

Fancy shuddered. ‘A mop and bucket.’

‘And?’

‘And some bedding, I ain’t sleeping on the floor again. Not never.’

‘Right. We’ll get some money from Augustus and you and me will go out to the nearest popshop and get what we need.’

Augustus knew of a pawnshop in Bleeding Heart Court. He gave them some money, and Ronnie came with them to help carry things. The old man in the pawnshop could have been Minski’s brother, although Clemency knew that he was not. Minski had come to England on his own, lived on his own, and was far too mean to spend money on a wife and family. When the pawnbroker in Bleeding Heart Court discovered they had money to spend, his surly attitude melted into one of fawning helpfulness. He even produced a little spirit stove from somewhere in the back of his dingy shop, and threw in a can of paraffin at no extra cost. They purchased blankets, pillows, tin plates and mugs, a kettle
that was only slightly dented, and two enamel chamber pots. Ronnie was rapidly disappearing beneath a mountain of items and his knees buckled.

‘We’ll have to do a couple of trips,’ Fancy said, scratching her head. ‘And we need candles, matches and tea.’

‘Wait.’ The pawnbroker disappeared into the back of the shop once again. They heard him scrabbling about, shifting things, swearing a lot in a foreign tongue: it was funny, Clemency thought, her mind oddly detached from their plight – you could always recognise swear words, whatever the language spoken. Then, with a triumphant cry, he reappeared through the tattered curtain, pushing a dilapidated bath chair. ‘I knew I had this somewhere amongst me stock. I’ll only charge you threepence for the hire, providing you bring it back today.’

A bath chair with a hood – just what they needed! Clemency tried not to look too enthusiastic. ‘It’s got a wonky wheel,’ she said, kicking it with her foot. ‘And it’s moth-eaten. Look at the hood, it’s rotten and the whole thing is dangerous. I don’t suppose it’ll get us a hundred yards without collapsing.’

Fancy nudged her in the ribs. ‘We need this, Clem.’

Ronnie twirled his moustache and he looked thoughtful. ‘It is a bit of a mess, guv. Why, that
contraption ought to have been chucked on the scrap heap years ago.’

‘I’m only asking threepence for its hire. I ain’t trying to sell it to you.’ Minski’s double wrung his mittened hands. ‘Be fair.’

‘It is a wreck,’ Clemency said, taking her cue from Ronnie. ‘I doubt it will make the return journey. Seems to me we’d be doing you a favour if we just dumped it in the Thames.’

‘No, young shaver. Have a heart.’

‘Well, then. What’s your best price? Although really you should be paying us to take it away.’

‘Half a crown.’

Clemency examined the change in her hand. ‘Too dear. I’ll give you a shilling and that’s me final offer.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘One and six.’

Clemency counted out a one-shilling piece and three pennies. ‘One and three.’

‘You’re robbing an honest man, sonny.’ He held out his hand. ‘But I’ll take it.’

That night, Jack rode to the theatre in his bath chair. At first he complained that it made him look like a gout-ridden old man, but Fancy sent him off with a kiss and a promise of long walks by the river in the spring sunshine. By the end of the evening, he seemed to have come to terms with his new mode of transport, and even joked about it with Ronnie as they made their way
home after the performance. When they arrived back at the church they found that Fancy had been busy. She had cleaned the vestry so that it sparkled in the candlelight, and the smell of carbolic soap and Lysol had replaced the former musty odour.

Augustus had imbibed several tots of brandy in the theatre bar, and he boasted that Horace had given him a Havana cigar to smoke, which just showed in what high esteem the theatre manager held him. He seemed to have put Lucilla out of his mind, at least for the time being, and, in a haze of goodwill, he sent Ronnie out to the nearest pub to fetch a jug of ale and some hot pies for their supper. They ate their meal seated in the choir stalls. The alcohol had gone straight to Clemency’s head, and she was exhausted after a long and emotionally trying day. She barely noticed the cold striking up through the flagstone floor of the vestry as she lay down on a coarse blanket. They all huddled together for warmth, and with Fancy on one side of her and Augustus on the other, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.

Although it seemed sacrilegious to heat a kettle on the spirit stove in the chancel, Jack said he thought that the Lord would not mind them boiling water for a brew of tea next morning. After all they had eaten pies and drunk ale in the choir stalls in full view of the altar, so it did not
seem any worse to fill the old stone font with water from the pump at the corner of Broken Wharf, which they could use for making tea and washing. Ronnie went out first thing and returned with a brown paper bag filled with hot bread rolls for their breakfast. From the capacious pocket in his overcoat, he produced a pot of marmalade and a pat of butter wrapped in a piece of muslin. ‘My treat,’ he said, beaming. ‘There’s nothing like a taste of marmalade to start the day off right.’

Clemency ate, but with little appetite. She was worried about Ma and had made up her mind to go to the Crown and Anchor as soon as she could get away. She was telling Jack when Augustus overheard.

‘My dear Clem. Do you think it’s wise to go about in broad daylight? I mean, you’ve got two desperate characters looking for you, so wouldn’t it be more prudent to visit your dear mama after dark?’

‘I need to make sure she’s all right now, Augustus. She’s not young and she ain’t strong like me. I need to be certain that she’s not taken a turn for the worse.’

‘I’d go if I could,’ Jack said, frowning. ‘But I’d only draw attention to meself in the bath chair. I can’t hardly go in disguise looking like I do.’

‘No, but I can.’ Clemency patted his shoulder. ‘I’m getting used to dressing like a boy, and even
though Hardiman might see through it, his mates wouldn’t. I’ll just go and make sure she’s all right and I’ll come straight back.’

‘Make sure you do,’ Fancy said, tossing her head. ‘You come back and do your share of the cleaning. I ain’t a skivvy now. I’m as good as the rest of you.’

‘Don’t worry, Clem,’ Ronnie said. ‘I can handle a broom with the best of ’em. You go and see Edith and give her my best regards. Tell her Ronnie is thinking of her and wishing her well.’

Clemency reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘I will, Ronnie. I’ll tell her that.’

‘And Clem.’ Ronnie grasped her hand. ‘Tell that young man of yours not to let Edith near the drink. We don’t want her falling back into her bad old ways, especially after what she’s been through.’

Clemency looked into his earnest brown eyes, realising with a sense of shock that Ronnie cared deeply for her mother. Dear, kind Ronnie, who never had a bad word to say of anyone, was in love with Ma, who had never given him a second glance. She squeezed his stubby fingers. ‘I’ll give her your message and I’ll warn Ned not to let her anywhere near the booze.’

‘Just thought I’d mention it. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Of course not, Ronnie. You’re just like one of the family.’

She made it to the pub without attracting any particular attention. No one seemed to take much notice of a skinny boy dressed in shabby clothes. She was just one of the many who roamed the streets, most of them on the dip, and a few on genuine errands for their masters. There was, she decided, a definite advantage to being a male in a predominantly male world. Theirs was a freedom denied to mere females. They could come and go as they pleased; they could toy with women’s emotions and then abandon them, just as Mickey Connor had left Ma to take the consequences of their brief affair. She went into the pub kitchen and was met by a surly remark from Annie.

‘You can shut up,’ Clemency said crossly. ‘I ain’t in the mood for any of your sauce.’ She went into the parlour, looking for Nell, but the room was empty. She went through to the bar, where she found Ned pulling pints of beer. His smile of welcome was sincere enough and it gratified her. She had a warm feeling for Ned, and despite his bossy and proprietorial manner, she knew that he meant well.

He passed the pint tankards over the bar into eager hands. He took the money and handed out the change. ‘Edith’s not too well. Ma’s with her now.’ He put the coins in the till. ‘She’s in the room at the top of the stairs.’

Clemency made her way along the narrow passage that led to a flight of stairs. Her heart was pounding inside her chest, and she had a strong sense of unease as she went up to the bedroom. The door was ajar, and she almost collided with Nell who was on her way out, carrying a pail filled with bloodstained rags.

Clemency could just make out Ma’s shape on the bed beneath a white counterpane. ‘H-how is she?’

Nell shook her head and her bottom lip quivered. ‘Not very well, ducks. She’s had a bad night. I called the doctor early this morning but there weren’t much he could do. He gave me a bottle of laudanum and she’s had a couple of doses, so she’s sleeping now.’

‘Can I see her?’

‘Of course you can, love. But let her rest. The doctor said that’s all we can do for her, keep her warm and quiet.’

‘But – but she won’t die, will she, Nell?’

‘I can’t say, ducks. I wish I could tell you that she’ll pull through, but it’s in God’s hands now. We done all we can.’ Nell bustled out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Clemency went to sit at the bedside. She stared down at Ma’s prostrate body, looking so small and frail beneath the spotless white coverlet, which was only a shade lighter than her pale face. Her hair spilled over the pillow in a wild
tangle, its vibrant copper colour in stark contrast to her pallid complexion. Her breathing was even but shallow. Clemency laid her hand over Ma’s as it rested on the counterpane; it felt cold and bony, like the claw of a dead chicken. She shuddered and bit back tears. Suddenly she was a small child again, sitting beside her mother after a beating from Hardiman had left her unconscious. She was afraid, so afraid. She curled her fingers around Ma’s hand, willing some of her own body heat to warm the cold flesh, and desperately hoping to transfer some of her own vitality to Ma’s enfeebled body. She did not realise that Nell had returned, and was standing behind her, until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.