She looked towards the two women standing on the opposite pavement. One was older and tougher than the other, used to her way of life, with hard eyes and unhealthy skin beneath her painted face. Her companion looked more vulnerable and licked her lips nervously as she put on a smile for a man who passed them by without a second glance.
‘Some o’ these girls’ve had babies out o’ wedlock, an’ lost their jobs – an’ this is the only way they can earn enough to support ’emselves an’ the child,’ Harry continued grimly. ‘The child often gets put out to a babyminder who ’as to be paid, an’ a lot o’ them die from neglect. The Army tries to rescue as many street women as’ll come to the way o’ salvation, but most o’ them are set on a path o’ sin an” – he lowered his voice to add – ’an’ some o’ them get horrible diseases that can’t be cured, an’ that kills ’em in the end. My sister Ruby’s seen some awful cases at the Salvation Army’s women’s refuge in Pentonville.’
Mabel was shocked and saddened. ‘Oh, Harry, how dreadful – and the poor little babies!’ As always, her tender heart went out to the suffering of innocent children.
Harry at once regretted his frankness of speech. ‘Oh, Mabel, I’m sorry – sometimes I let me tongue run away with me, I know.’
‘Don’t mind me, Harry, I’d much rather yer said what yer really think. It’s one o’ the things I like about yer,’ she added shyly, which brought a tender smile to his lips.
As they walked on in silence, Mabel’s sharp ears caught a stifled laugh behind them.
‘Brother, are yer saved?’ asked Charlie in doom-laden tones, mocking Harry’s solemnity.
‘Not yet, brother, I got a couple o’ naughty girls to rescue first,’ replied Arthur with a high-pitched snigger.
There was a yelp as if he had been dug in the ribs and Ada giggled. Mabel’s face flamed with indignation and she turned her head round to glare at the scoffers. A glare that was not lost on Maudie who spoke up sharply. ‘’Ere, you two, jus’ stow it, will yer? The Sally Army knows a bloody sight more o’ what goes on in the world than a pair o’ silly apes like you!’
The ensuing silence lasted until they reached Hyde Park, though Mabel shot her friend a grateful glance for her loyalty, even to rebuking her own sweetheart.
At the sight of the fresh greenness of the grass and the burgeoning trees glimmering in a mist of tender new foliage, Mabel’s spirits lifted as if the early April sunshine had evaporated all else away but the glory of springtime. The three couples now had space to move apart and Harry led her down a verdant slope towards the glittering Serpentine, surely the loveliest lake imaginable, even better than the one in Battersea Park. Little boats bobbed on its surface and families sat or strolled at the water’s edge.
‘Listen to the birds singing in the trees, Harry!’ exclaimed Mabel, enraptured. ‘Isn’t it all so beautiful? Ye’d never know yer were right in the middle o’ London, would yer? It’s like bein’ out in the country. Can we walk across that bridge over the water?’
Harry was more than happy to indulge her every whim and they walked hand in hand through the park until they came to the bridge on which they stood together, watching the swans gliding gracefully beneath. When they passed over into Kensington Gardens he led her to a bench near to the Long Water.
And as they sat side by side, he turned to her and hesitantly put his arm round her shoulders. She caught her breath, thinking that her heart must have missed a beat, and made no attempt to move away; in fact, she sat as still as one of the marble statues they had passed.
‘Dearest Mabel.’ The soft whisper close to her ear sent a thrill coursing through every part of her body. She literally held her breath while she waited for what he would say next.
‘Dearest Mabel, ye’re the sweetest girl in all the world.’
Still she could say nothing, though she felt that he must surely hear her heart pounding. Past and future were forgotten in this precious moment, and Mabel wished that time could stand still, so that she could live it over and over again.
She had no words to offer in exchange and fearing that to speak might break the spell anyway, she let herself lean against Harry’s best brown serge jacket, enveloped in the circle of his arm, simply sharing with him in the joy of first love, without so much as a kiss, for Harry had not yet kissed a girl and Mabel had never been kissed by a young man. Besides, they were in a public place.
In the days that followed Mabel lived in a dream world. She seemed to float through each day without touching the ground, hugging her secret to herself: she was young, she was in love, and it was springtime. In time to come she would look back on her eighteenth year as the last of her girlhood, but for the happy present there were no shadows of forthcoming events to darken her path. Not an hour of any day went by without Harry coming to her mind: she saw his face smiling in the sunrise over Nine Elms, in the noon-day dazzle on the lake in the park, and in the sunset over the Thames from Battersea Bridge. Never had the world around her appeared so beautiful, so magical, as seen through the eyes of love.
But there must come a time to return to earth and Mabel discovered that the world did not want to know about her happiness. Apart from a little good-natured teasing from friends like Ada and some curiosity on the part of Alice, she got scant response from her family. Her mother was particularly discouraging and frowned when Mabel rhapsodised over Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens in the spring. ‘Weren’t you supposed to be with Ada Clay and that Ling girl?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘Yes, there were the three of us – well, the six of us. Mother, I told yer – Charlie, he’s Maud’s young man, and Ada’s been walking out with Arthur Hodges for a while, and yer know Harry.’
‘I know that you’re only seventeen, Mabel, and I don’t like all this gallivanting around the streets with young chaps you hardly know.’
‘Mother! How can yer say that? We all know Harry Drover, he’s Albert’s friend and he’s called here lots o’ times,’ protested Mabel indignantly. ‘And we weren’t gallivanting, as yer call it – it was only a quiet stroll beside the lake and we sat on a . . . a park bench.’
Poor Mabel stumbled a little over this account of the brief, innocent idyll, and Annie noticed the hesitation. ‘I hope you didn’t canoodle in public.’
‘That’s not fair, Mum, an’ yer know it. Of course we didn’t, Harry’s not that sort at all, yer know perfectly well what a good Christian man he is.’
Hurt and bewildered by her mother’s lack of sympathy, Mabel had no idea of Annie Court’s terror of losing her. So great was her dependence upon her eldest daughter, that she could not bear to think of Mabel growing up, leaving home and getting married. The very thought of it filled her with dread, remembering her own experience when only a year older: to think of Mabel tied to a husband and having babies every year, getting tired, growing old before her time – it was not to be imagined! Yet when Mabel made up her mind not to confide in her mother any more, it brought the inevitable accusation that she was being secretive.
Albert’s reaction was also disappointing. All his time was taken up with the industrial unrest among the railway workers, and he became increasingly brusque as the mood on railways and riverside became more mutinous. There were ugly scenes at open-air meetings when union leaders such as Albert’s hero Ben Tillett shook a threatening fist in the air and warned of impending disaster if dockers were not granted a minimum of eight pence an hour for a working shift of ten hours. ‘It’s like ’e says, we all gotta stick togevver,’ Albert declared, banging his fist on the table. ‘Railmen, dockers, miners, stevedores, a united front o’ the workers!’
‘All right, no need to knock the dinner flying,’ said his sister Alice coldly, while Annie looked anxious and Jack annoyed.
Mabel sympathised with her brother up to a point, but she preferred Harry’s more cautious wait-and-see approach, though Albert was impatient with it and incurred Mabel’s wrath by telling Harry not to be an old woman. He now spent more time with Sam Mac
kintosh and a group of other young firebrands, adding to Annie’s apprehension. ‘You’re far too young to get yourself involved in disputes like this, Albert,’ she remonstrated. ‘Why can’t you leave it to the unions?’
‘The unions are too bloody slow,’ he replied darkly. ‘But jus’ you wait, the workers’ll ’ave the bosses by the froat ’fore this lot’s over – we’re gonna show the blighters!’
Annie shuddered. She knew very little about the causes of industrial unrest but enough about her son’s hotheadedness to fear for his personal safety in the event of a strike.
It was Miss Carter at the Hallam Road Babies Mission who caused Mabel to consider some aspects of her future and unwittingly pointed to a possible source of conflict ahead. ‘The time has come for you to move on from the Mission, Mabel,’ she said seriously. ‘You need to broaden your experience and I think you should apply to the Anti-Vivisection Hospital as a ward maid. It’s not a large place, but Lady Headley takes a personal interest in the standard of nursing care and it’s nearer to your home than the Bolingbroke Hospital. How do you feel about that?’
‘Oh, Matron, I—’ Mabel hesitated, somewhat taken aback at the idea of working in the rather ornate building on Prince of Wales Road, founded by the anti-vivisectionist Elizabeth Headley. At the same time she felt a thrill of excitement. ‘D’ye think they’d have me?’
‘Of course they would! And I’ll recommend you. They’d soon appreciate your worth and I’m sure you’d quickly be promoted to assisting with care of the patients. Two years of experience at Lady Elizabeth’s hospital will bring you to nineteen and you’ll have a head start when you go to train at a Poor Law infirmary to become a real nurse.’ Miss Carter smiled. ‘It’s your future we’re looking at, Mabel!’
It was an attractive prospect indeed, and another step on the road to achieving her dream of being a children’s nurse. Mabel should have been thrilled and excited, and so she was, but—
But. Something had happened since her last conversation with Miss Carter on this subject. When she looked into the future now, she also saw her young man, Harry Drover. He was in love with her and she with him. Which meant that one day they would be married. And he was talking of becoming a full-time serving officer in the Salvation Army, which meant that she would be expected to become a Salvation Army wife, wearing a uniform with a bonnet and working with street women, as Harry’s sister Ruby Swayne did, going into places where only the dedicated Salvation Army brothers and sisters went . . .
So now there were two roads ahead of her – would she have to choose between them? And in any case the only really certain thing in her life at present was her mother’s continued need of her at home, not to mention her father’s philandering and Albert’s dangerous involvement with the militants. Without her support her mother might be tempted to resort to the gin bottle again, which didn’t bear thinking about. She simply could not be spared, and felt a need for some understanding friend with whom she could discuss the turmoil in her heart, the conflict between her love for Harry and her long-held conviction that one day she would care for children in need.
It was Harry – dear, honest, open-hearted Harry himself – who proved to be that friend. He called that same evening, looking worried and saying that he had to talk to her. ‘Can yer come out for half an hour after supper, Mabel?’ he begged and, promising her mother that she would be back by half past nine, she put on her hat and left the house. It was a very warm evening and there were a number of people out taking the air beside the river.
Walking arm in arm along the Albert Embankment he tried to explain his situation to her, following a very forthright discussion he had had with his parents. ‘Dearest Mabel, yer must know how I feel about yer,’ he began in a low, urgent tone. ‘There’ll never be another girl for me, I know, and one day I hope—’ He broke off and swallowed, clearly agitated by what he felt he had to say.
‘Go on, Harry, yer can tell me, whatever it is,’ Mabel urged him, bracing herself.
‘The fact is, y’see, Mabel, I can’t make yer an offer, not yet, not for some time. I got no right to hold yer to a promise, not for three years at least.’ And with an earnestness which endeared him to her all the more, he mapped out his circumstances to her. ‘I’m twenty this year, Mabel, and I think the Lord’s callin’ me to full-time service – in fact, I know He is. That’ll mean two years’ trainin’ at Clapton College before I’ll have any money o’ me own. Me parents say we’re both much too young to be thinkin’ that far ahead an’ it’s true ye’re only seventeen, though so wise an’ sensible – but yer see, Mabel dear, I’m not in a position to make an offer o’ marriage, not until I’m twenty-three – that’ll be 1914, an’ we’ll both be that much older an’ maybe earnin’ enough to start thinkin’ o’ findin’ a little place of our own.’ He stopped to draw breath, then went on, ‘So I’ve no right to hold yer to anythin’, Mabel.’
The words had poured out in a rush and she realised that he too had been in a state of turmoil. She squeezed his arm to show that she understood.
In actual fact Harry had not told his sweetheart half of what had passed between him and his parents. They had been horrified at the mere suggestion of an engagement to a girl of seventeen whose only connection with the Salvation Army was her attendance at a number of meetings, but no real commitment.
‘Ye’re much too young to think o’ marryin’,’ his father had said sternly. ‘What you need, son, is to get down on yer knees an’ seek the Lord’s will for yer life.’
His mother had been even more direct. ‘Yer need to get yer trainin’ done at Clapton College first, like yer sister,’ she told him. ‘Yer need to conquer the worldly side o’ yer nature, Harry. No doubt the Lord’s got plans for yer to marry in due time, but He’ll show yer the right one that He’s chosen for yer, as Rebecca was chosen for Isaac.’
In vain had Harry extolled Mabel’s virtues, her dutifulness as a daughter, her housewifely arts, her fondness for children.
‘That’s as may be,’ Mrs Drover had said, ‘but her father’s a gambler an’ her brother’s a blasphemer, inciting discontent among the young railwaymen.’
Of course, Harry did not repeat anything of this to his dear, sweet Mabel; it was quite bad enough telling her of his lack of prospects.
Had he only known, she experienced a certain relief in knowing that she was under no immediate pressure to make a choice. ‘Don’t worry about it, Harry,’ she told him, looking up into his troubled brown eyes. ‘It’s the same with me, really, I couldn’t possibly leave home while me mother needs me and besides, Matron at the Mission says I should apply as a domestic at the Anti-Viv for a couple o’ years. I’ll be paid more an’ it’ll be good experience. So there yer are, Harry, there’s no hurry – an’ we are young yet, aren’t we?’
‘Dearest Mabel, ye’re so sweet an’ understandin’,’ he said gratefully, glad at having got it off his chest and for being so well received. ‘If the Lord wants us to be together to share our lot in life, He’ll make the way plain for us in His good time. Only I feel I don’t deserve yer.’
‘Oh, Harry, don’t be daft!’ Impulsively she put her forefinger firmly on his mouth to stop him saying more. And felt that she had never loved him so much as now.
Following on from this thought, Mabel reflected that as Harry had been perfectly honest with her, it was surely up to her to treat him with equal honestly. Didn’t she owe it to him? Up until now she had never seriously confided in him about her dream of becoming a children’s nurse, perhaps because she feared he might be less than encouraging; but this had put a new aspect upon their immediate future. With at least three years to spare before marriage was even a possibility, she could look ahead towards her other important goal in life and she should tell him about it. Taking his hand in hers, she drew a deep breath. ‘Harry, dear, ye’ve been frank with me and there’s somethin’ I ought to talk over with you.’
‘Anythin’ ye want to tell me, Mabel, jus’ go ahead – it’ll go
no further,’ he said eagerly, thinking that perhaps she was about to confide something to do with her family, remembering what had happened at Christmas.
‘Yer know I love children and I’ve always wanted to look after ’em, as far back as I can remember,’ she began.
‘Yes, I’ve realised that, Mabel. I’ve heard they think the world o’ yer at that Babies Mission.’
‘Well, Miss Carter – she’s the Matron – she thinks I ought to train to be a nurse and says that I could do general trainin’ at a Poor Law infirmary where they don’t charge for it.’
Harry looked doubtful. ‘They were workhouses not so long ago, Mabel, and the work’d be ever so hard – and ye’d have to live in for three years.’
‘But I’d be a trained nurse at the end of it, Harry.’
‘Yes – and ye’d be welcomed with open arms in the Salvation Army,’ he went on slowly, following a train of thought. ‘We need nurses for the homes an’ the children’s refuges—’
‘Harry! Yer mean I could join the Army as a nurse an’ look after children? Them with nobody to look after ’em an’ care for ’em?’ She could hardly keep the excitement out of her voice.
He turned to her with a smile that reflected her own. ‘Mabel, I’ve never really mentioned this before, but the reason I’ve held back from decidin’ definitely about trainin’ is because I could only marry another Salvation Army officer and I haven’t been sure that ye wanted to join. If we was both to devote our lives to God’s service, yer could be my wife and do yer wonderful work that ye’ve been called to do.’
‘Oh, Harry, that’d be both me dreams comin’ true!’ And even though they were in a public place, she threw her arms round his neck and kissed him. It seemed the answer to all her uncertainties about the future.
But it meant that they would have to wait for a very long time.
Chapter Six
FEARS OF A city paralysed by strikes seemed to be unfounded when 23 June dawned fine and clear for the coronation of George V and Queen Mary. Tens of thousands of loyal subjects waited outside Westminster Abbey to see Their Majesties come out into the sunshine after the long ceremony and all over the country there were celebrations in honour of the new monarch, though Albert Court jeered at what he saw as a senseless extravagance when workers’ families were living in want.
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