The Orphan Daughter

by Sheila Riley

  ‘You young ones are so generous with yourselves. Everybody must get their fair share.’

  ‘I had half a bucket of coal when I left this morning.’ Her coal had dwindled before while she was out, but now the whole lot had disappeared!

  ‘I’m not sure I like your tone,’ the landlady said, pulling her baggy cardigan over deflated bosoms. ‘You’ve used your ration, and now you’re hoping I’ll take pity and give you more.’

  ‘I have not used my ration!’ Evie felt anger strangle her words, making them high-pitched and barely audible.

  ‘Don’t upset yourself, dearie.’ Miss Skinner’s words were as sickly sweet. ‘It’s human nature to want a bit more in this weather, I know you’re not accusing anybody.’

  ‘I am accusing somebody!’ Evie was nobody’s fool. The days of taking the flak for somebody else’s wrongdoings were over. Defending herself had never come easy. But she knew that somewhere, deep down, there was a girl with the strength and the courage of a lioness.

  ‘We’ll say no more about it,’ Miss Skinner said, and Evie felt that it was pointless to argue. She had no proof. She watched Miss Skinner shuffle across the faded linoleum to her own rooms. All she had to do was dig down deep enough to find her inner lioness.

  Miss Skinner nodded to the three-legged table balanced under the coin-operated telephone on the wall, and said, ‘you’ve a letter… No stamp… Came through the letter box.’ Then she slammed her door shut.

  ‘Shrivelled old witch,’ Evie whispered, marching down the passageway. If she had somewhere else to go, she would be out of here like a shot. Although curiosity tempered her irritation when she saw Connie’s neat handwriting on the unstamped envelope addressed to Miss Kilgaren. Ripping it open, Evie’s eyes ping-ponged the single sheet of blue lined paper, and as she read the words, an icy chill ran through her that had nothing to do with the freezing weather…

  10

  Evie placed one tentative foot in front of the other, reluctant to hurry on the icy ground which was so slippery she feared a broken bone. Steadying herself, she put a freezing hand to the rough redbrick wall. Her shallow breaths came in short bursts, her thumping heart pulsating in her throat. It was dark, and lonely. Nobody in their right mind would be out on a night like this. Skittering rodents negotiated the gutter, slipping down the grid when a feral jigger rat followed, on the prowl for food…

  Evie continued, ignoring her fear, urged on by anger at her mother for not letting her know that Jack and Lucy were home. If she met Darnel now, she would smash his face in, she was so angry. Her mother had done another flit, obviously having no intentions of changing her selfish ways.

  Did the woman have no shame?

  Mam couldn’t help herself when men came calling. Taking off when a new ‘uncle’ showed his face. It was nothing new. It didn’t matter what country the servicemen were from or that she could not understand some of them. Working in a dock road alehouse she met every nationality, every colour and creed. But if he had the readies, Mam had a whale of a time.

  ‘We could all be dead tomorrow,’ she’d say during the war. Squinting away the smoke from the cigarette hanging from her ruby coloured lips, enhancing her thick dark lashes with boot polish or soot when she didn’t have a sugar-daddy to supply her with black-market make-up. Responsibility had never been important to Mam after Da copped it. He was the one who took care of business. Keeping Mam in line, he used to say.

  When Darnel came along, Mam thought she’d hit the jackpot and off she went again. Evie remembered the nights when the enemy planes came over, strafing the street with bullets and incendiary bombs. She tried to bury her fear of the cellar and suffered the air raids alone. It became a regular ordeal. But it was no use complaining. Mam was having a fine old time…

  Marching through the snow she was careful not to slip, hoping her mother didn’t show just yet. Because Evie was boiling mad. And once her mother’s ills were revealed, they could never be secreted away again.

  The tantalising smell coming from the chip shop made her doubtful her siblings had eaten much of late if her memory served her well, remembering the familiar hunger when her mother would retreat to be picked up by servicemen with deep pockets and shallow principles.

  Well, I intend to keep Jack and Lucy from having that kind of life, she thought, ordering fish and chips with the money from her last weekly wage. And if her mother wanted a fight, she could have one!

  ‘Come in,’ Connie breathed, standing back, letting Evie through the front door. Evie shivered. The place seemed more drab than when she left it. The smell of old tobacco and fried food clung to the walls and floors.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Evie asked, surprised it was her mother’s employer who opened the door. Connie put a finger to her lips, to let Evie know she must keep her voice down.

  ‘There’s been an… no, not an accident, there’s been an incident – and Jack got caught up in it.’ Connie whispered.

  ‘What kind of incident. Where’s me mam?’ Evie felt her heart sink. She knew the answer before she asked the question. ‘She’s done a flit again, hasn’t she?’

  ‘It looks like it,’ Connie agreed, knowing Rene had up and left many times in the past.

  ‘When did they get back home?’ There were so many questions she needed answers to. But first she had to see her brother and sister. It had been so long since she had seen them. However, this was not the way she imagined they would be reunited.

  ‘Jack has been…’ Connie could not bring herself to terrify the living daylights out of poor Evie, by telling her that her beloved brother had been shot. ‘He’s been hurt. I don’t know how it happened. All I know is, Jack was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And there may be consequences.’

  ‘What kind of consequences? Connie, just tell me what’s going on,’ Evie hissed, not waiting for an answer as she made her way towards the kitchen door. But Connie stopped her.

  ‘I’ll tell you everything later, but for now, I have to warn you, Jack has a gunshot wound to his leg.’

  ‘A what?’ Evie felt her stomach turn. She must have misheard. People didn’t go around shooting young lads.

  ‘Most people saw enough guns in the war to last a lifetime,’ Connie answered. ‘He isn’t saying much. Shock, I suppose, he will need careful monitoring.’

  Evie nodded, letting Connie know she understood, but for some strange reason she couldn’t utter one word.

  ‘It’s a flesh wound,’ Connie was saying, and Evie wished she would stop talking and let her see Jack and Lucy. They’d been gone too long. She needed to be with them.

  ‘It hasn’t hit the bone – and I should know, I’ve seen enough of them. Although I’ve cleaned and dressed it, the wound needs suturing so I’m going to speak to a doctor I know, he is very discreet.’

  ‘What do you mean, discreet? Why would he have to be discreet?’ Evie was growing impatient with all this cloak and dagger nonsense. ‘I need to see Jack and Lucy – you do what you have to do.’ The wireless was playing the theme tune for the popular thriller series Dick Barton and Evie thought it apt in light of the news.

  ‘Yes, go and reacquaint yourselves while I go and fetch the doctor.’ Connie lowered her voice. ‘And don’t worry, the police won’t hear anything from me.’

  ‘What?!’ Evie’s eyes widened in shock. She hadn’t given a thought to the police. They should have been the first people she thought of, given Jack’s injury, but she knew people usually sorted out their own troubles before bringing the law into it. Especially people like Leo Darnel.

  ‘There’s no fuel in the house, and the poor mites are freezing. I’ll go and get a bucket of coal – by all accounts Jack was on the dock looking for something to burn when this happened.’ Connie said.

  ‘He was on the dock? And they’ve got no heating! This is getting worse by the minute.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we get a coal allowance from the brewery, so I won’t let them go short.’

  ‘That’s not what I
meant,’ Evie should be grateful for Connie’s help and this was not the time to look a gift horse in the mouth, but her concern for Jack and Lucy caused her to forget her manners. On opening the kitchen door, she knew the sorry sight that met her would stay with her for a very long time to come. She gasped when she stepped into the miserable hovel that had once been her home. This was nothing like the place she had left behind last summer.

  ‘It’s colder in here than it is outside,’ she said when she saw there was no fire in the range, only the charred remains of something burned to keep the life in her siblings. And judging by the look of her ten-year-old sister, it had barely done the trick.

  ‘Evie!’ Lucy squealed with delight, wrapping herself around her big sister like an octopus, all skinny arms and legs. Her tangle of rust-coloured frizz looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in months. ‘I kept all of your beautiful letters and the gorgeous lace hankies you sent me.’ Lucy’s voice sounded like the Irish nuns who taught her at school, crystal clear and tinkly like a bell. ‘Oh Evie, we have missed you so much.’

  ‘I’ve missed you both, too, poppet.’ Holding her at arm’s length, Evie could see the healthy glow of Lucy’s freckled complexion, which she gained in the clean fresh air of the Irish countryside, had faded. Now it was a dull grey like dried pastry, as if she hadn’t had a wash – although, her dark eyes, so like Mam’s, still sparkled.

  Evie’s eyes darted to Jack, her brow furrowing when she saw him sitting on the sofa, his long leg propped up on the straight-back chair.

  ‘Hiya, Sis,’ he said with a lopsided grin, wincing when he moved. ‘Sorry I can’t get up and do the same as Lucy.’ Evie’s false laugh did little to ease the pinched expression on her face. His inflection, although not as strong as Lucy’s still had a Celtic lilt.

  ‘You stay there, Jack,’ Evie said, shivering in the dim light of the cold room. ‘Don’t you move – we’ve got all the time in the world to catch up.’ She relinquished the heat of the chippy parcels from inside her coat and offered one to Jack.

  ‘You must eat, keep your strength up,’ Evie told her brother.

  ‘Well, if I can’t eat much, they’ll certainly keep my hands warm.’ He took it, albeit reluctantly and managed a wan smile when she placed the steaming parcel of food in his hands. Sitting at the bare kitchen table that might once have been beautiful but was now unpolished, scarred and clearly showed the crusty remains of something unrecognisable, Lucy could not take her eyes off the steaming food parcels.

  ‘Why didn’t someone let me know you were home?’ Evie asked, unwrapping the newspaper for Lucy. ‘I was in lodgings across the canal, didn’t Mam tell you?’ Questions tumbled from her lips as the child eagerly took the food and they ate their supper. Evie had yearned to see her siblings and here they were, as if they had never been separated at all.

  As she watched Lucy devour her food, she noticed Jack wasn’t so keen and she wondered how long it had been since they last ate a hot meal. Though, she wasn’t going to go into all of that just yet. There was much more important things to sort out, and Lucy had much to tell.

  ‘Mam said it was best we stayed in.’ Lucy couldn’t get the words out fast enough. ‘Then we found out she’d pawned our good clothes, all we had left were these tatty old things.’ Lucy’s freckled nose wrinkled in scorn. Evie shook her head sadly; nothing her mother did would surprise her after this.

  ‘Where’s all the good furniture gone?’ Evie asked and the two youngsters shrugged.

  ‘Two men came and put it all on a flat-backed wagon.’

  ‘Pawned or re-possessed?’ Evie asked, recognising the ragged sofa, so faded she could not make out its original colour and spilling its horse-hair innards. The mismatched chairs – one was bottle-green, the other – not so shabby – was dark burgundy and pushed up hard against the gas cupboard. Her father’s chair. This furniture had been dumped in the unused parlour when Darnel came to stay, replaced with the fancy furniture he brought. But Evie had little time to delve when Lucy wanted her attention.

  ‘I’ve been sick too, but I’m better now,’ Lucy said as Evie noted the dark shadows, stark against the insipid pallor of her skin. She, too, needed building up.

  ‘I’m here now,’ Evie said, taking off her coat. ‘I’ll put everything right.’ How? She didn’t know, but somehow they would muddle through. She would do the best she could for them although, with no money coming in and just her savings to live on, Lucy wouldn’t be dressed in velvet anytime soon. But as she wrapped her coat around Jack’s trembling body, Evie was sure that anything she could do would be better than the way they had been living lately.

  ‘I am so thrilled that you are both home.’ Certainly, she was. ‘It’s all I’ve wanted for the last seven years!’ Evie swallowed hard, hating herself for the unruly thoughts running amok in her head. What about her plans for the future?

  Her dream of bettering herself. Getting a good job. Maybe even becoming an office manager like Miss Hawkins! Getting out of the backstreets and moving to a place where the air was clean, where there were green fields and flowers…

  ‘You’re here, Evie, that’s all that matters,’ Jack said, wrapping Evie’s capacious woollen coat around his thin shoulders. Young Lucy gripped Evie’s hand as she went out to the dark scullery, and Evie sighed… It had been a dream. It looked like this was her reality now.

  ‘Don’t worry, poppet, I’ll sort it all out. I’m not going anywhere.’ Evie’s words sounded more confident than she felt. They were home. That is all that mattered. Now she must make them secure and do all she could to help them.

  ‘May God forgive you, Mam,’ Evie whispered, ‘because I never will,’ She made them a cup of hot tea from the rations she had brought with her, and when they were all together in the austere kitchen, she asked the question.

  ‘Where’s Mam, Jack? How long has she been gone this time?’ Evie’s voice was soothing, and he closed his eyes, not speaking. He looked truly defeated and her heart went out to him. It couldn’t have been easy coming back to this deprivation after the good things he had grown used to in Ireland. Food. Fresh air. A loving family who cared…

  A knock at the door sent her scurrying.

  ‘Where’s the patient?’ a doctor in his fifties asked succinctly, ‘Connie has told me the situation.’

  Jack winced as the doctor, a man of few words, expertly tended the gaping wound in Jack’s leg. Whether it was shock or mounting pain that twisted her brother’s features, Evie wasn’t sure. But either way, he was in good hands. Thankfully, she had the money to pay for his services.

  ‘I had hoped Mam would settle down once she had these two back home.’ Evie’s voice was thick with contempt, knowing her mother was fond of dock road nightlife. Nothing had changed, it seemed. ‘If I know her, she’ll be in some dock road pub, warming herself and filling her belly with gin.’

  ‘Darnel was in the tavern earlier,’ Connie told Evie after the doctor had left. She picked up the bowl of soiled dressings and wrapped them in newspaper to burn when they managed to get a fire going. ‘Mind you, he didn’t look like he was in the mood for questions.’

  ‘How could any mother do this to her kids?’ Evie asked, and Connie shrugged.

  Having been denied the privilege of rearing children of her own, she couldn’t understand it either. She knew Rene had thrown Darnel out after Christmas, but Connie didn’t ask questions, feeling it was better not to know.

  ‘Don’t judge her too harshly,’ Connie told Evie. ‘Your mam’s been having a hard time since she gave Darnel his marching orders.’

  ‘There’s nothing new there.’ Evie answered. ‘She attracts spivs, conmen and losers like iron filings to a magnet.’

  ‘She’s soft-hearted. That’s her trouble. She caves in when she hears a sob story.’

  ‘She said she had to meet someone,’ Jack said, too weary to appreciate the attention from these two competent women who were fussing and fixing the place as they busied themselves. Evie had got a bla
ze going in the grate and Connie was busy washing the bowls in the kitchen. ‘I think she went to see what’s-his-name, Leo Darnel.’

  Evie felt her heart miss a beat. He’d given her the impression he no longer came anywhere near Reckoner’s Row. But he was a born liar. Connie had served him in the Tram Tavern.

  ‘We never met him,’ Jack managed to say as the doctor gave him an injection in his thigh. ‘He’d gone by the time we got home.’

  ‘None of them stick around for long,’ Evie whispered to herself. ‘He was here longer than most of the lodgers Mam brought home.’

  ‘She said she needed to see a man about some money,’ Jack explained in the Celtic lilt he gained after seven years away. ‘She said tomorrow would be a better day.’

  ‘She’s been saying that for as long as I can remember, Jack.’ Evie felt the sting of angry tears. ‘Do you know what, it never bloody is.’ Frustration tinged her voice. She was annoyed with herself for not being here when she was most needed. ‘You should have come for me.’

  ‘We could have asked the neighbours where you’d gone, but Ma said not to,’ Jack said. ‘She said you were better off out of it.’

  ‘Out of what?’ Evie asked and Jack shrugged, his eyes growing heavy.

  Connie, efficient as ever, took the soiled linen out to the scullery and said nothing. It was happening again, she thought. Rene was a great worker, better than most, but when it came to difficult situations, she was nigh on useless. Evie was the one who had always been a mother to Jack and Lucy and cleared up her mother’s mess.

  ‘Worry over,’ Connie’s doctor friend said, suturing the gash. ‘There’s no bullet in there, although the bugger gouged a deep trench in your thigh muscle.’