by Maggie Ford
To her delight, Ronnie was there, but without his fiancée. He was lounging back on his chair when Ellie entered. Seeing her, he got to his feet almost as if she were a lady and he a menial. He looked so tall, so handsome that Ellie’s heart did a little flip despite herself; but it settled immediately, knowing he had a steady girlfriend now. No doubt he’d shortly be leaving to go and meet her.
It came to Ellie that if she had struck earlier instead of being so set on finding her father, and had settled down to normal life, she might now be his fiancée instead of this girl he now had. But at the time she had not wanted anything to get in the way of her search. It was ironic that at this moment it no longer seemed that important. Just the same, she couldn’t help asking him if he had ever found out anything through the News Chronicle, where he worked.
‘No, not yet,’ came the easy reply. ‘But yer never know, something could come up one day.’
As she had anticipated, it wasn’t long before he was up, taking his leave of her to get himself spruced up ready to meet his fiancée.
After he had gone, it no longer seemed all that important for her to stay. With a promise to pop in more often, she too left, aware that she had missed her chances with him. At seventeen, she should have had a boyfriend, but she had no one. All because of this stupid obsession of hers!
Twenty-Six
This was the right time to visit Dora – she was sure of it as she left Ronnie’s house: Sunday, a day of rest for most people, mid-morning, Mrs Lowe either taking her ease or at church – so long as Dora hadn’t been required to go with her, in which case she’d wait for them to return home.
An attack of the collywobbles began to start up in her tummy as she approached Old Ford Road. By the time she gained Doctor Lowe’s house and surgery, they were really having a go. At the small flight of steps up to the front door Ellie hesitated. It would be better to go round the back, past the surgery entrance. She’d tap on the kitchen door. Mrs Jenkins would be there, preparing the Sunday lunch. No church for her.
Ellie’s knock was tentative. Even so, she had hardly removed her knuckles from the figured-glass portion before the door burst open as if in a fit of anger to reveal Mrs Jenkins ready to give a piece of her mind to whichever unwelcome caller this was on a quiet February Sunday morning.
‘What do you…’ The harsh voice trailed off as the woman frowned down at her in surprise. ‘You!’ Another pause, then: ‘What d’you want, coming here?’
Collywobbles gone, Ellie lifted her head in defiance. ‘I’ve come to see Dora.’
‘Oh, you ’ave, ’ave you. Then you can just go away again, miss. She don’t need to see you.’
‘I rather imagine that to be my business, Mrs Jenkins.’ She spoke in the nicest accents, the way Michael had taught her. ‘Is my sister at home?’ She said it as if Dora was part of the family.
Mrs Jenkins blinked, but her round face remained hard. ‘She usually goes to church with Mrs Lowe, but she’s been a bit poorly.’
All pretence fell from Ellie with her alarm. ‘Poorly?’ All sorts of awful illnesses raced through her mind. She should have come here much sooner. ‘How poorly?’
‘She’s had a bit of a cold all week. She’s getting over it now but Mrs Lowe thought it was best she didn’t go out this morning.’
That was a relief. Ellie regained her confidence if not her artificial airs. ‘Then it’s a good job I’m here. I’d like to come in to see her, Mrs Jenkins.’
There was a short hesitation as the woman glanced over towards the big, plain clock on the kitchen wall. ‘Well, they won’t be home for another half-hour so I suppose you can. She is your sister. But you’ve got to be gone before they get back.’
With this she moved aside, still not quite friendly, but resigned to letting the girl in. ‘You stay here. I’ll go and get her, then you can go into the parlour to talk. But not for long, mind.’
Dora looked washed-out when she came into the room. She hadn’t done her hair and it hung loose almost down to her waist in a mass of gleaming auburn almost like a shawl about her shoulders.
Her nose still looked sore from constant blowing into a handkerchief and when she spoke, saying how good it was to see Ellie, her words were thick.
‘You should have written to me that you had a bad cold,’ Ellie scolded as they sat on the sofa in the parlour, careful not to disturb the cushions in case Dora’s employers noticed and asked questions. ‘I’d have been round here straight away if I’d known.’
‘I didn’t feel much like writing,’ Dora said quietly, ‘much like doing anything really.’
‘You could have been at death’s door and I wouldn’t have known.’
‘Nothing like that,’ Dora said quickly. ‘Mrs Lowe was very kind to me and Doctor Lowe was on hand to give me some medicine and keep an eye on me in case it got worse. I couldn’t have been in better hands.’
‘And I wasn’t needed.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that, Ellie,’ came the plea. ‘I’ve wished so many times that you was here. I even wished we was all together back home, with Mum and Dad and Charlie, just a family.’
Dora’s eyes began to swim in tears. ‘I do miss everyone so much.’
‘Then come and live with me. I’ve got a nice room. I use it as a studio to paint in, but there’d be room for the two of us. And I might soon be able to afford something bigger.’
Gabbling on, she told Dora about the gallery owner who had taken a liking to her paintings.
‘So it looks like I might be well off before long,’ she ended eagerly; but Dora was biting her lips.
‘I can’t leave here,’ she said. ‘Not really.’
‘But you’re not happy.’
Dora gave an indifferent shrug. ‘I’ve got used to it here. I know Mrs Lowe can be a bit of a trial, but it is safe here. What would I have done last week if Doctor Lowe hadn’t been here to look after me? I keep thinking of Mum and how she got worse and worse without anyone to get her better.’
Ellie felt her resentment begin to rise. ‘If Doctor Lowe had found it in him to see her, Mum might be alive today,’ she said sullenly. ‘But no, we didn’t have any money. We were just nobodies. Now, of course, you’re in his care and his wife doesn’t want to lose you. You’re very convenient for her!’
‘It’s not like that!’ Dora protested. ‘What I mean is, I’m comfortable here and safe and I’ve more or less got most of what I want.’
‘And if you come to live with me, you won’t have them comforts.’
Dora was silent, her pretty young face turning sulky. Ellie got up sharply in a fit of annoyance. ‘Very well then, you stay here. But one day it’ll get stale and you’ll find yourself not wanted. What then?’
Still no response. The girl’s head was bowed. She had her hanky to her nose, the cold still bothering her; or was she crying silently? Ellie couldn’t tell with the girl’s hair fallen forward, hiding her face. But she was still angry.
‘So that’s it, is it? In that case, I don’t know why I bothered to come.’
She walked to the door but, with some of her anger dissipating, turned back to her sister, still sitting silently on the sofa. ‘At least you can write to me now and again, let me know how you are. And if you do change your mind, Dora, if anything goes wrong, I’ll be here for you. All right?’
Dora managed a nod and sat up to look at her. Her eyes had become bloodshot and tears ran down her pale cheeks. ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance to anyone.’
Ellie felt all her anger sweep away. She ran back to her sister. Sitting down again beside her, she pulled her close, rocking her gently and making comforting sounds as the girl broke down. She found she too was crying.
‘Look, I understand,’ she crooned. ‘I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to. But if you do want to, let me know straight away and I’ll come and collect you. Any time.’
With a deep, fortifying intake of breath, Dora sat up and, giving an almighty sniff laden with mucus, lif
ted her head. ‘I’m all right, Ellie. But it’s all taken me a bit by surprise – you coming here out of the blue. I need to think about things. And I will let you know. I promise.’
Ellie looked at the little bowed clock on the cloth-covered mantelshelf over the low fire in the grate. ‘I’ll have to go now,’ she said gently. ‘They’ll be back soon. I didn’t know the time could go so fast.’
She gazed at Dora. ‘Will you be all right?’
As Dora nodded, Ellie stood up, bending to kiss her sister’s wet cheek. ‘No more crying, or they’ll see your eyes all red. I’ll keep in touch with you. And you keep in touch with me, and—’
She was stopped by loud voices: Mrs Jenkins’s harsh tones and Mrs Lowe’s high, bleating ones. Before Ellie could take a breath the door flew open and three portly figures stood there: Doctor and Mrs Lowe, dressed in formal Sunday wear, as well as Mrs Jenkins. He was in his black frock coat, black striped trousers and stiff high collar, his high silk top hat no doubt left on the hall stand. Mrs Lowe’s hat was huge and plumed. Her sombre grey day dress also had a high collar with a jet brooch at the neck and a festoon of jet beads falling to her full bosom. Like her husband’s top hat, her warm wrap had most likely also been left with their maid. Mrs Jenkins stood behind them, her full face full of concern.
Mary Lowe’s blue eyes were trained on Dora. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ she burst out. ‘What do you think you are doing, girl?’
‘It’s my sister. She came to see me,’ Dora said in a small voice as she rose from the sofa.
‘I know who it is!’ came the sharp reply. ‘What is she doing here? Why are you entertaining her? You were apparently too under the weather to attend church; yet here you are, chatting away to your sister. Was this some sort of conspiracy – making excuses not to attend church and, as soon as I am out of the way, going behind my back? I request you go up to your room and wait for me…’
Ellie stepped forward, her face blazing. She knew she looked every inch a woman. Her wavy hair was piled up and carefully puffed out. The black toque she’d bought especially for today with some of the money Hunnard had given her for that last painting went with the dark winter coat she’d brought away with her from here. Black gloves and well-polished boots finished the ensemble.
‘My sister’s not your property, Mrs Lowe,’ she began. ‘If she wants to quit her job as lady’s maid and so-called companion, you can’t stop her.’
‘Who do you think you are talking to?’ squealed Mrs Lowe, coming to confront her like some aggressive, puffed-up pigeon. ‘That girl is in my care until she reaches the age of independence. Then she can do what she likes.’
‘You mean she can be thrown out when it suits you?’ Ellie finished hotly. ‘With no idea of the world after having been tied to your skirts for years? – told what to do and what not to do.’ Not knowing what to say, the woman hesitated, appealing to her husband to speak up for her.
He did. ‘Dora, do as your mistress says and go on up to your room, like a good girl.’
Dora’s eyes had dried. ‘What?’ she said indignantly.
‘I said, like a good girl!’ he repeated. ‘Now do as you are told, Dora.’ The tone of his voice, instead of startling her, made her eyes blaze.
Suddenly, it seemed, she made up her mind. She turned towards her sister, her lips thin and set.
‘Right, Ellie, I’m coming with you,’ she said and threw the others a truculent glance. ‘I shall be staying with my sister for a few days.’
‘Dora, did you hear what I said?’ thundered Bertram Lowe, but she took no notice, as if he hadn’t spoken at all.
‘And if I decide to stay for good, I’ll come back to collect the rest of my things.’
She sounded so grown-up for someone only fifteen years old that it took Ellie’s breath away and she felt a great surge of pride go through her. But then, she’d been only fifteen, too, when she’d been forced to suddenly grow up.
Bertram Lowe was looking at her, his piggy eyes baleful. ‘This is your doing,’ he blared, his moustache waggling with indignation, his face suffused with a rush of rage.
‘I’ve done all I could to make sure of your happiness and safety under my roof. I took you in when you had nowhere to go. I gave you a good home. I had you taught to behave like a lady. I paid out of my own pocket for your tutoring. And what did you do? – threw it all in my face, running off with your tutor, and thank heaven his father made him see sense. I gave you all my fond affection.’ He pulled himself up sharply as his wife shot a startled glance at him. ‘and this is how you reward us,’ he went on quickly as if he hadn’t noticed the confession he’d just made. ‘By disrupting my home and enticing away a girl my wife has become equally fond of.’
He glanced again at his wife as if that last statement vindicated him.
Ellie stood her ground, even found herself enjoying the argument. ‘I am grateful for all you did for me,’ she said calmly. ‘But you must have realized I wouldn’t stay with you for ever – that one day I would leave to live my own life.’
She almost said that she wasn’t his daughter, bound to his family, but thought better of it before any more damage was done. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to have his nose rubbed in it. She suddenly felt unkind to have been so pleased with herself.
‘I am sorry, Doctor Lowe,’ she said now. ‘I am truly grateful for all you’ve done for me and Dora. But it did have to come to an end eventually. You can see that. I really don’t want us to be enemies.’
‘That is exactly what you are!’ cried Mrs Lowe, but he put out a hand to quieten her.
‘Nor do I, Ellie. And I understand your feelings. If I can be of any help to you in the future, please do let me know.’
There were tears in his pale eyes – tears she hoped his wife hadn’t seen – and she felt her own tears start to spring. He had been kind to her. That he’d allowed it go so far as to see in her a replacement for his dead daughter was no one’s fault.
But it had become too claustrophobic and she’d have had to escape at some time, even if Michael hadn’t persuaded her away. Now she felt as if she was betraying him. She had used him. She had used everyone, it seemed, to further her plan to get even with her father. Had it all been worth it? She wasn’t sure now.
‘I’m so very sorry,’ she managed to say.
‘We don’t want your sorries!’ shouted Mrs Lowe vehemently. ‘Just get out of my house! And take that ungrateful little brat with you!’
Mrs Lowe had no idea that she’d unwittingly broken the spell, in which Ellie had almost found herself ready to run into Bertram Lowe’s arms to kiss his cheek and thank him for being such a good man to her. How would that have been received?
Instead, she nodded to him and gulped, feeling her heart about to break as he returned the nod, and saw him step back to let her and Dora pass.
Not so, Mrs Lowe. Ellie was half aware of a sudden sharp movement from her. Dora gave a little cry and ducked as Mrs Lowe’s hand connected with the back of her head.
Ellie’s first instinct was to swing round on her, to return the clout, knock her fine hat off her head. But she refrained out of what in that second felt like a surge of love for Bertram Lowe. Her hand fleetingly touched his, feeling it warm, the fingers momentarily curling about hers, and she was out into the hall, Mrs Jenkins already having the street door open for her.
So she and Dora emerged into the cold February air, which hit them like a fierce dash of cold water.
Dora was crying, not from the clout but from the upset of the whole affair. Ellie realized the girl had no coat, no hat or gloves, her hair hanging loose and uncombed, and that she only had a pair of indoor slippers on her feet and no stockings.
Letting go her hand, Ellie swung round and raced back up the three steps to the door just before Mrs Jenkins could close it.
‘Dora’s things!’ she shot at her. ‘Please get them for her!’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Get them!’ E
llie blazed, her tone bringing stares from two passers-by.
The door shut on her. She waited, Dora shivering with cold, sniffing with the remains of her own cold. Had Mrs Jenkins closed the door for good or just closed it to keep her out while she collected what was necessary?
Her ear close to the wood, she could hear Mrs Lowe’s raised voice, Doctor Lowe trying to pacify her. How must he be feeling? Ellie put the thought from her. She couldn’t concern herself about that just now.
There was one thought in her mind: if Dora’s outdoor clothes weren’t forthcoming soon, she might catch pneumonia, just as Mum had done.
What if Doctor Lowe wouldn’t come out to her? But of course he would.
What had she done, going off half-cocked on the spur of the moment? Had she made things worse? But if this door didn’t open soon she would kick at it with her foot, hammer on it, bellow for all the street to hear.
Then suddenly Mrs Jenkins was thrusting a shabby carpetbag into her hands. ‘If she don’t come back, you can come and collect her things for her. That’s what I was told to say. Mrs Lowe don’t want to see her any more. She says to say she’s deverstated, she’s really deverstated.’
The door closed abruptly. In the street, Ellie opened the carpetbag and pulled out coat, scarf, gloves, and quickly got Dora into them. She made her draw the stockings on only as far as her calves – no woman should be seen putting on stockings in the street – and eased her boots on over them.
With her arm about the girl, trying to get her warm, she walked her along Cambridge Heath Road, crossing the wide junction into Bethnal Green Road and continuing down along Gales Gardens.
‘Good Lord, luv,’ gasped Mrs Sharp as she saw the two standing on her doorstep. ‘What in Gawd’s name… Come in, yer both look perished.’
* * *
By the warmth of Mrs Sharp’s back-room fire, and with hot mugs of cocoa clasped between their hands, the chill slowly oozed out of their bones. Ellie hadn’t realized how cold she herself was, though it was more from the trauma of what had happened than from the cold February weather.