A Child's Voice Calling

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by Maggie Bennett


  Everything had been going so well at the hospital, she had quickly been promoted to working on the wards and had got on so well with everybody – well, all except that poor Watson girl who grumbled all the time and for whom Mabel had felt sorry. Apart from her there had been nothing but friendliness and encouragement. And now, like a bolt from the blue, it was all over, and so humiliatingly; she was shamed by association with a disturber of the peace. It would almost be comical if it were not so bitterly unfair. Poor Albert, she thought, and her tears flowed afresh at the realisation that they were both now out of a job. Had he really meant what he’d said about going into the navy? If so, how would she manage at home without his warmth and support, his quick and often caustic wit, his impetuosity, his fierce loyalty to herself and her mother? Without his protective presence she would feel bereft. Whatever happened, Albert had always been able to coax a laugh from her. Until now . . .

  And what would Harry think about his dear girl in this kind of trouble? She hoped he wouldn’t blame Albert, not that Harry would ever say anything unkind to his friend, but . . . she gasped as another thought struck her: would Harry be in trouble as well, if it were known that he had helped her find Albert and bring him home after his arrest? It was all too awful to contemplate.

  By midday Mabel decided that she could not put off the evil moment any longer and made her reluctant way towards Sorrel Street.

  Ill news travels fast. Mrs Finch had called at number 12 to say that another neighbour had seen Mabel Court walking up Albert Bridge Road in the middle of the morning, clearly very upset. ‘Breakin’ ’er ’eart, she was, so Elsie Tonks said. Is summat up wiv the poor gal?’ she asked curiously. With a brute of a husband and a growing family to bring up on too little money, Lily Finch found her only comfort in the misfortunes of her more outwardly respectable neighbours.

  Annie had said that it couldn’t possibly have been Mabel, she’d gone to the Anti-Viv that morning as usual, but the seed of doubt had been sown and when Mabel walked in the door at half past twelve with a stony but determinedly composed expression Annie at once demanded to know what had happened. Albert came in from the yard, sensing bad news.

  ‘I’ve lost me job, that’s all, don’t worry, I can get another,’ said poor Mabel, putting her bag down and throwing her hat on a chair. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, Mum, I’m just dying for a cup o’ tea – d’ye want one?’

  But of course Annie and Albert bombarded her with questions, and there was no way of answering them without bringing in her brother’s part in her dismissal. She showed them the letter, now creased and crumpled.

  ‘I knew there’d be trouble when they printed those names in the paper!’ wailed Annie.

  ‘Bloody ’ell, Mabel, ’ow the devil did them buggers know yer was me sister?’ asked Albert, scratching his head in genuine puzzlement. ‘Yer ain’t talked abaht me, ’ave yer?’

  ‘’Course not, I never once mentioned yer – I said Mum had been poorly in all this heat.’ Mabel sighed, wearily getting up to put the kettle on, as neither of the others had.

  ‘Then some sneak at that place must’ve got it in for yer, Mabel, that’s all I can say,’ said Albert with conviction. ‘Wish I could ger me ’ands on the bastard. Was there anybody ’oo talked a lot abaht the strike?’

  ‘Oh, everybody talked about it, Albert, it was headline news, remember?’ replied Mabel a little irritably. ‘How could they not notice? But nobody knew my brother was in it.’

  ‘Whar abaht Dr Knowles? Does ’e go in the Anti-Viv? Could’ve let it slip—’

  ‘No! O’ course not! Dr Knowles warned me several times not to say a word about yer outside, so did his son Stephen. Oh, don’t keep on about it, Albert, it’s bad enough to think we’ve both lost our jobs. And for God’s sake don’t row with Dad about it when he comes home.’

  Jack was out, but expected home that evening; Alice was at the post office and George and Daisy were at school, so Mabel had a few hours in which to ponder her jobless state and rack her brains as to where she might find work, any work, just so long as it brought in a little cash.

  ‘Can’t you go back to the Babies Mission, Mabel, just until things have died down a bit and you can look for something else?’ asked Annie.

  ‘Not really, Mum. Miss Carter’s already got a girl to replace me and I’d feel such a failure,’ replied Mabel sadly. In her heart she saw a return to the Mission as a backward step.

  ‘Can’t you try the Bolingbroke Hospital?’

  ‘Not just yet, Mum, the word might’ve got around.’ Mabel pictured herself as being on some kind of blacklist and tears welled up in her eyes again; but she told herself she must be brave, it would not do for Daisy to come home from school and find her crying.

  The worst moment was when Jack Court came home. Annie took him aside to tell him what had happened and he turned on Albert, almost spitting with fury. ‘I’ve said all along ye’ll be the ruin an’ the downfall o’ the ’ole bloody family and so yer will!’ he thundered. ‘Losin’ yer job for nothin’, drivin’ yer mother mad with worry, layin’ around ’ere bein’ waited on, stuffin’ yerself with food I’ve ’ad to sweat for, an’ now gettin’ yer sister a bad name an’ losin’ ’er job – ye’re nothin’ but a bloody useless, good-for nothin’, er, er—’

  ‘Son of a bastard, that’s right – yeah, yeah, I’m the Antichrist an’ gonna rot in hell,’ growled Albert, getting up and confronting his father eye to eye. ‘Don’t worry, I’m gettin’ aht – goin’ rahnd to Sam’s an’ from there to the navy. Anythin’ to get aht o’ this hell-hole.’

  Annie and Daisy both began to cry as he slammed out of the front door, hatless and jacketless, for the air was still very warm.

  Mabel rose to follow him. ‘Albert! Albert, wait! Yer can’t go round to the Mackintoshes, they got trouble enough o’ their own. Albert! Wait for me!’

  He walked on, hands in empty pockets, paying no attention. Mabel picked up her skirt and ran until she caught him up. She still had to hurry to keep up with his furious strides towards the river and the Embankment, where at last he slackened his steps. ‘Gawd, I’m sorry, Mabel, I wouldn’t’ve done this to yer for the world.’ He choked on the last word and she put a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘All right, Albert, I know it wasn’t yer fault. And I’m ever so sorry that the strike ended without gettin’ justice for the workers,’ she sympathised, knowing how much it had meant to him. There was in fact a great deal of public bitterness and loud condemnation of the use of troops to bring the strikers to heel. ‘Couldn’t yer get some other kind o’ work for a year or two, Albert? In a factory or on a buildin’ site?’ she pleaded. ‘Give yerself a chance to think things over before signing up for the navy. Ye’re much too young yet to go off on a ship.’

  ‘’Course I’m not, they take younger ’n me on them trainin’ ships, an’ the sooner I’m gone the better. I’ll be orf up to Bishopsgate to apply termorrer.’ He stopped and stared down the river where ships were once again being unloaded.

  Mabel stood beside him, her heart aching for this boy – for he was only sixteen – who had always been especially close to her. ‘I can’t bear to think o’ home without yer, Albert,’ she told him simply. ‘We need yer – Mum, George, Daisy and me.’

  ‘No, Mabel gal, yer don’t need me – look ’ow I’ve buggered things up for yer. Tain’t only the strike, neiver. I got to get away from the ol’ man, or there’ll be a right bust-up.’

  ‘But he’s still yer father—’

  ‘’E’s no farver to me, not since I seen ’im makin’ up to bits o’ common fluff in pubs an’ that. No wonder poor ol’ Mum’s let ’erself go.’

  ‘But Albert, she doesn’t know, an’ she mustn’t ever find out!’ insisted Mabel urgently.

  ‘Yeah, well, she’s bahnd to know sooner or later, ain’t she? I just can’t stand arahnd an’ see ’er bein’ let dahn by ’im, Mabel, an’ that’s a fact. I’d fergit meself an’ up an’ slosh ’im one.’ He put an arm aroun
d her waist and kissed her cheek with surprising gentleness after the harsh words he had been speaking. ‘Nah, Mabel, this is the best way. I’ll miss yer, o’ course, an’ Mum, an’ dear little Daisy.’

  His voice shook and they stood a while in silence, hands touching.

  ‘Well, Albert, if ye’re really goin’ to join the navy tomorrow, come back home with me tonight, I dare say Dad’ll’ve gone out again.’

  She was right. Jack was not at home, but Harry was there, waiting for her with loving looks and words, ready to comfort her and hold out hope. ‘The Lord’ll bring good out o’ this, Mabel, just yer wait an’ see – put yer trust in Him an’ wait on His own good time,’ he whispered, enfolded her in his arms during a brief moment alone with her in the hallway. He never at any time uttered a word of reproach to Albert, knowing that the boy was suffering enough regret on Mabel’s behalf; nor did he attempt to dissuade his friend from his chosen course.

  Resisting Annie’s tearful pleadings, Albert took himself off to Clarke Place in Bishopsgate the very next day to offer himself for the merchant service. Mabel bowed to the inevitable and when he was accepted within a week for training on the Warspite in dock at Greenhithe, to commence in ten days’ time, she comforted their mother and Daisy as best she could. An uneasy truce existed between him and Jack, both knowing that it would not be for much longer.

  Miss Carter wrote indignantly to Lady Headley when she heard of Mabel’s dismissal and received a somewhat lukewarm apology. If Mabel had been a nurse instead of a mere domestic, Miss Carter felt that she might have been reinstated, but a suggestion was made that she could try for a cleaning job at the Battersea Polytechnic on Northside, overlooking Clapham Common.

  ‘I don’t care to think o’ you as a charwoman, Mabel,’ said Annie in a deprecating tone, but Mabel said that it would do well enough for the time being; beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  But then came another offer. An afternoon visitor called. ‘Mabel! You’d better come down,’ called her mother up the stairs. ‘Your grandmother’s here and wants to speak to you.’

  ‘Yeah, the Duchess o’ Tootin’ in person, in ’er own ’ansom cab,’ added Albert in an undertone. ‘Even the bleedin’ ’orse is lookin’ dahn its nose at its surroundin’s.’

  Mabel hurried down to find Mrs Mimi Court waiting, resplendent in a wine-coloured silk gown with a rustling taffeta underskirt and black lace-edged jacket. Her lightened brown hair was dressed in the style of Queen Mary and she was at her most gracious. Questioning Albert about the strike and how he had got injured, she heard of his intention to go to sea. When she asked to speak to Mabel alone, Annie frostily showed her into the front room. ‘Well, Mabel, here’s a fine how-d’ye-do!’ she said in an amused but not unkindly manner, carefully sounding all her hs and gs. ‘Sacked from the Anti-Viv, eh? Yer was only a servant girl there, no great harm done, surely?’

  ‘I loved it there, Grandmother, and it was good experience for when I start proper nursing training,’ replied Mabel seriously. ‘And I got paid more than at the Mission.’

  Mimi raised her black eyebrows. ‘Oho? Yer could earn even more if yer cared to move into 23 Macaulay Road and assist me with my local maternity cases in Tooting. Very good experience, Mabel, and by the time ye’re twenty-one yer could register with the Central Midwives Board. Ye’d be better off than at that silly Headley woman’s hospital.’

  Mabel stared at her, hardly able to take in what was being said.

  ‘Matter o’ fact, I had it in mind to suggest this anyway in another year’s time, but seeing ye’ve had this bit o’ bad luck on account of that reckless fool of a brother, I’ll take yer this year. A pound a week and all found – and a first-class training. Well, what d’ye say, Mabel?’

  What indeed could Mabel say? A whole pound a week to learn how to be a midwife, before embarking on general nursing training. Fifty-two pounds a year – think of what she’d be able to save! And to look after newborn babies, how wonderful! It was an amazingly generous offer and Mabel’s thoughts whirled round in her head like a swarm of bees, refusing to settle. Part of her longed to accept thankfully, but there were obstacles in the way and the more she thought about them the more insurmountable they appeared.

  The answer, when it came, sounded timid – feeble – even to Mabel’s own ears: ‘It’s ever so good o’ yer, Grandmother, but I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t? Why ever not?’

  ‘I can’t leave Mother on her own – I mean with Albert going away, and . . . Dad’s away a lot—’

  ‘Why can’t yer mother look after herself, for heaven’s sake?’

  ‘She . . . she’s not well, her blood’s thin and she relies on me so much. Oh, Grandmother, I’m sorry, but I can’t take up yer offer, I tell yer, I can’t!’

  Her voice rose in her agitation, and Mimi looked at her questioningly. ‘I hear ye’ve got a young man, Mabel. Jack tells me he’s in the Salvation Army. Are yer plannin’ to join up as well? Ye’ll have to if yer marry him.’

  ‘Yes, I know, Grandmother, and I shall join, but not for a long time yet. I’m going to train to be a nurse at a Poor Law infirmary in a few years’ time, an’ Har— Mr Drover’s got to train at the staff college. Meanwhile I’ve got to stay at home and keep an eye on Mum – my mother.’

  Mimi Court looked more amused than annoyed. ‘So what will yer do now, Mabel?’

  ‘There’s a . . . a cleanin’ job at the Battersea Polytechnic.’ Mabel felt herself blush and half expected a sarcastic rejoinder.

  But Mimi just shrugged and got up to leave. ‘Ye’re very young, Mabel, there’s time enough yet. And yes, I think yer could make a good nurse one o’ these days, that’s if yer can ever get away from here. No, don’t bother to see me out, I’ve nothin’ to say to yer mother, nor she to me.’

  As soon as she had gone, Annie tackled her daughter. ‘What did she want to see you about?’ she asked sharply. ‘What did she say?’

  ‘Oh, nothing much, Mum. She asked me if I . . . if I’d like to train to be a midwife.’

  ‘What? Oh, my God, you mean with her?’ Annie almost shouted. ‘Oh, Mabel, you wouldn’t, you couldn’t – oh, no!’

  ‘Sh, Mum, don’t get into such a state. I told her I couldn’t leave home, especially now, and I thanked her for her offer. She said she’d pay me a pound a week to help with her maternity cases and she’d train me at the same time, but I told her I couldn’t and that was that,’ said Mabel with an air of finality. ‘Though I don’t know why ye’re so upset.’

  ‘Thank God! Oh, Mabel, you don’t know what she’s like – what she does. She’s a bad woman, Mabel, and I couldn’t bear to think o’ you living in that house. Are you sure you made it clear to her? You won’t leave me and go to live at Macaulay Road?’

  Mabel turned and looked her mother full in the face. ‘I don’t know what all this fuss is about, Mum, but I’m not going to Tooting, is that clear enough? Instead, I’ll start work tomorrow morning at six o’clock, cleaning the Polytechnic till half past eight, and then I’ll go to clean the hostel where the women students board, while they’re at their lectures. Any more questions?’

  Annie turned away, biting her lip at this untypical display of impatience from her indulgent, good-natured eldest daughter, describing what her job would be like as a charwoman.

  The work proved to be just as hard and dreary as Mabel had expected; she was the youngest of a team of three morning cleaners, the others being middle-aged women who needed the extra money for a variety of reasons. At first they were suspicious of her, but when they discovered that she had a sympathetic ear, she found herself endlessly regaled with stories about their marriages, their grandchildren, their ailments and daily concerns.

  The women’s hostel, also on Northside, was hardly more stimulating. Mabel was at the bottom of a domestic heirarchy of kitchen and domestic staff, and was firmly told not to talk to the students when she met them on stairways and corridors, though the young women often sent her off on errands, posti
ng letters or buying buns to take to their rooms. It was their attitude that she found patronising – ‘Oh, tell the maid to do it, it’s what she’s paid for,’ or ‘Sh, don’t speak in front of the maidservant, wait till she’s out of earshot.’ As if I was deaf and daft, thought Mabel, tempted to retort that she had not the slightest interest in their silly gossip.

  When the time came for Albert to take his leave of Sorrel Street, striding away with his rolled-up canvas bag over his shoulder, Annie wept dolefully. It was a Saturday, and Mabel and the children were at home. ‘How could he treat me like this, Mabel? Did you notice, he didn’t give us one backward glance!’ She sobbed on Mabel’s shoulder, which started Daisy off.

  Mabel had to swallow her own heartache and be strong for them all. ‘I expect it was ’cause he couldn’t bear to look back at us in case he cried, too,’ she said, forcing a smile while Daisy sobbed and George bit his lip to stop it trembling. His struggle was not lost on Mabel and she raised her voice as she went on reassuring their mother. ‘We’ve still got George, Mum, and he’ll take care o’ yer, just as Albert always did,’ she said, holding out her hand to draw her younger brother close to them. He would be twelve at the end of the year and remained a shy, gentle boy, sensitive to his sisters’ feelings and always ready to ease his mother’s burdens in any way he could. ‘Ye’ll have to be our mainstay now, George, while I’m at the technical college,’ Mabel told him. ‘Keep an eye on Daisy and make sure Alice does her share o’ the housework. At least she won’t be sparring with Albert any longer, which’ll be a relief!’ she added wryly.

 

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