‘I was just abaht to come to that blinkin’ Rescue an’ kidnap yer,’ he grumbled, but his dark eyes lit up at the sight of her and she could hardly speak as they embraced.
‘He’s learnin’ to be a drummer, Mabel!’ squeaked Daisy.
‘You in a band? Never! Ye’re tone deaf, ye’re pullin’ our legs!’ Mabel laughed as he lifted her up off her feet and twirled her round like a ballet dancer.
‘Thank Gawd yer got that job up the ’ill,’ he muttered in her ear. She thought he looked older, and he kept them entertained with plenty of amusing and sometimes hair-raising tales about life on HMS Warspite. ‘’Ow’s old ‘Arry these days?’ he asked. ‘Still blowin’ ’ell out o’ that trombone an’ trailin’ after Mabel like a faithful ’ound?’
‘Yer’d better watch what yer say, Albert, it was Harry who brought yer back from that awful infirmary, remember?’
‘You an’ ’im bofe, Mabel. Yeah, an’ if ’e bags my favourite sister, well, I s’pose yer could do worse.’ He grinned, dodging the back of Mabel’s hand as it advanced towards his ear.
He had brought presents for them all: brooches for Annie, Mabel and Alice, a penknife for George, crayons for Daisy and even Jack got a tie. He seemed to have plenty of ready cash and was eager to throw it around. ‘Got three days’ leave, so we’ll go up the Grand an’ book a row o’ seats in the name o’ Court – might as well do the big while I’m ’ere, what d’yer say, Mum?’
Annie beamed happily from her elder son to her husband and back again, but her reply was interrupted by a knock at the door.
When Mabel saw Harry Drover on the step her heart leapt and she joyfully invited him to join them. ‘Come in, come in, Harry, Albert’s here,’ she said, all smiles and blushes.
‘Fancy an evenin’ at the Grand tomorrer, ‘Arry?’
‘That’s good o’ yer, Albert, but I’m due to play in the band at the Citadel, y’see—’
‘An’ much as we’d all love to come along an’ listen to yer trombone, ‘Arry ol’ son, we must admit we’d raver go for a little o’ what we fancy at the Grand.’
‘Don’t be so rude, Albert!’ cried Mabel, though she then turned shyly to Harry and put her head on one side in a prettily pleading gesture. ‘Any chance o’ gettin’ out of it, Harry?’
How could he resist her? ‘Well, er, p’raps I might be able to get a replacement.’
‘Hooray!’ shouted George and Daisy in unison, and Albert muttered, ‘I ’ope yer realise what a favour I done yer, ‘Arry, when I brought yer ’ere. ’Ooever gets Mabel’ll be a lucky sod.’
‘Oh, yes, I know I am, Albert,’ replied Harry with such solemnity that even Albert hadn’t the heart to tease him further, but clapped him on the shoulder and elbowed him in the ribs to show his approval. Harry winced, but flushed with pleasure.
Jack got up to open a bottle of wine. ‘Get some glasses, Mabel, and we’ll drink a toast. Welcome home, Albert, and Merry Christmas all!’ He pulled the cork to echoes of ‘Merry Christmas!’ all round. Mabel caught Harry’s eyes upon her and thought it the best Christmas ever.
Boxing Day brought another visitor to the door: two visitors, in fact. ‘’Appy Chris’muss, Mabel! A’ right if we come in for a bit?’
‘Maudie! What a lovely surprise – and this must be Teddy – my, hasn’t he grown! But why aren’t yer at Lady Stanley’s?’ As soon as her old friend crossed the threshold Mabel sensed that all was not well.
‘Yeah, well, she’s bin dragged orf to ’Ertfordshire by ol’ Bald-’ead, an’ ’e reckons she don’t need me there,’ said Maudie, shivering a little. ’Cor, got a cup o’ tea goin’, Mabel? It’s perishin’ aht there and we jus’ come all the way from Dulwich, Ted an’ me.’
It seemed that Sir Percy Stanley had taken his young wife to their country estate for the festive season, away from her London friends and very much against her wishes.
‘Fact is, the ol’ man’s bin gettin’ suspicious,’ confided Maudie as soon as she and Mabel managed to grab a moment alone. ‘Sent for me an’ asked no end o’ questions, ’e did. Freatened me wiv the sack an’ the police an’ all sorts if I was shieldin’ ’er. ‘Course, I tol’ the ol’ fool she was as true as ever a wife could be, never looked at anuvver bloke, never even—’
‘But did he believe you, Maudie?’ asked Mabel.
‘I dunno, Mabel, I jus’ dunno.’ Maudie shook her head dolefully. ‘’Course, I was lyin’ in me teeth – I ’ad to keep lookout for ’er nearly an hour while she was closeted up wiv ’er special gen’leman friend – I fought they mus’ be gettin’ up to summat, but then I ’eard ’er cryin’ ’er eyes out, poor fing – I s’pose she must’ve bin tellin’ ’im ’ow she’d got to go away for Chris’muss.’
‘D’ye mean that Viscount Eastcote?’ asked Mabel abruptly.
‘’Ow did yer know that?’ asked Maudie in alarm.
‘Ada Clay saw a bit about her in the Daily Mail just after the coronation and it mentioned him. There was a picture o’ them together.’
‘Oh, my Gawd, I’d forgotten about that – might’ve bin when the ol’ man first started smellin’ a rat. Ugh, gives me the creeps, ’e does.’
‘I’d’ve thought they’d’ve taken yer with ’em to Hertfordshire,’ said Mabel.
‘Nah, ’e wouldn’t let ’er, I told yer, ’e said I was to stay at Bryanston Square. Charlie’s gone an’ all the men, the place is like a morgue. It’s no fun wiv’out ‘Er Ladyship, there’s only the ol’ ’ousekeeper an’ a couple o’ catty maids ’oo’ve bin givin’ me ’ell ’cause she ain’t there to stop ’em. I was really lookin’ forward to Chris’muss, an ’avin’ Teddy to stay – I went down to Dulwich to take ’im out for the day – only we ain’t got nowhere to go. Oh, Mabel!’
Mabel had never before seen her self-assured friend Maud Ling in tears. ‘Oh, Maudie, dear, don’t cry. Lady Stanley might be a bit more careful when she comes back, an’ everything’ll be as it was before,’ she said, trying to sound hopeful, though in fact that situation between Lady Stanley and her husband and lover sounded distinctly tricky.
Maudie dried her eyes and finished her tea. ‘Fanks, Mabel, ye’re a pal. It’s just that I really love ’er, yer see, she’s been that good to me an’ Teddy – said she’d take ’im on as a manservant soon’s ’e leaves the Waifs an’ Strays at Dulwich. But fings ain’t goin’ to be so easy now, an’ I’ll ’ave to keep in wiv ol’ Bald-’ead if I wants to stay in me job!’
The brother and sister remained at Sorrel Street for the day, and Albert walked up to the Grand to see if there were any cancellations; there were two, but not near the row booked for the Courts. Albert cheerfully bought them, and presented them to Jack and Annie; the rest of them occupied the row, Mabel between Harry and Albert, then Maudie, Teddy, George, Daisy and Alice.
‘Wasn’t it a scream, Mabel? Cor, we’ll never forget tonight, will we, Ted? Fanks a million times, Albert, ye’re a good ’un!’ exclaimed Maudie when they saw the Lings on to the train at Clapham Junction, just across the road from the Grand.
‘Cheerio, Maudie,’ said Mabel, kissing her. ‘An’ let me know how it goes.’
She was not at all happy about her old friend, but did not think it would be right to discuss her confidences with Harry, who now took her arm as they walked back to Sorrel Street. Instead, she remarked on her father’s good humour over the festive season and how much it meant to her mother.
Of course Harry said he was pleased to hear this, but for himself he was not so sure. There had been a feverish gaiety, an exaggerated bonhomie on Jack’s part, it was true, but Harry had looked at the man’s eyes when he was not aware of being watched and thought he saw something like despair in their depths.
When Mabel returned to the Rescue the following day, it was to hear that Mary Cross had lost her baby and was still at the General Lying-In Hospital because she had developed an infection following delivery. Mabel heard the horrific details from Sister Lilley. It had been decided not to do a Caesarean ope
ration as no heartbeat could be heard, and a ‘destructive operation’ had been done. A skull perforator and a decapitation hook had been passed up into the womb and the dead child removed piecemeal. Sister Lilley shrugged at Mabel’s horror. ‘What should they have done, then, leave her to die with it inside her? In her circumstances it’s probably all for the best.’
Mary Cross was transferred back to the Rescue on New Year’s Day, anaemic and hollow-eyed, vowing that she would never again conceive a child, in or out of wedlock.
It was Ada Clay, soon to be Mrs Arthur Hodges, who showed Mabel the brief notice in the Daily Mail’s Court Circular column.
Sir Percival Stanley and Lady Cecilia returned to their town residence in Bryanston Square on Friday, 5 January, after spending Christmas at their country estate. Lady Stanley will be hostess at a charity ball to be held at Apsley House on Friday, 19 January, in aid of the Waifs and Strays Society, a cause known to be very dear to Her Ladyship’s heart.
Mabel gave a sigh of relief and let Ada chatter happily on about the carefree lives of the rich. She would not talk of this to Harry, she decided. It was all very well to tell him stories about the girls at the Rescue, but Lady Cecilia’s goings-on were best kept quiet. His time, like hers, remained fully occupied with his work at the railway depot and his voluntary activities with the Salvation Army. It was now 1912 and their dream of the future seemed to be forever receding, or so it appeared to Harry.
‘I’ve been thinkin’, Mabel, and I’ve got to talk to you,’ he said one evening in early spring. They were standing in the narrow hallway of 12 Sorrel Street, taking the opportunity to exchange a goodnight kiss. During his brief visit there had been no opportunity to speak with her alone, and he had been rather unpleasantly conscious of Jack Court’s glowering presence and Annie’s nervousness. There had been a distinctly uncomfortable atmosphere and Mabel had seemed awkward, as she always was when her parents were with them. ‘Mabel, dear, if I was to get me trainin’ done, I’d be an officer by 1914,’ he said earnestly, gazing into her eyes to note her response to each word. ‘It’d mean givin’ up what I earn from the railway, an’ I won’t be able to save while I’m at college, but I’m young, we both are, an’ I feel I ought not to deny the Lord’s clear call to me any longer.’
Mabel followed his reasoning and hastened to tell him so. ‘Dearest Harry, yer must do exactly what yer think’s right. Go an’ do yer training and I’ll carry on at the Rescue for another couple o’ years.’
‘We won’t be able to see much of each other while I’m at Clapton,’ he reminded her.
‘But we don’t have that much time together now, Harry, do we?’ She sighed. ‘And me thoughts’ll be with yer every day, just the same as now!’
‘Bless you, Mabel,’ he whispered as she hid her face against his shoulder. ‘Can I ask yer somethin’, dear? D’ye feel the Lord’s voice callin’ yer to service in the Army?’
She looked up in some surprise. ‘Why, yes, Harry, I want to be in it with you when I’m a trained nurse and we’re married, just as we’ve always said.’
‘It’s just that it seems such a long way off, Mabel, an’—’ He hesitated, seeing the troubled look in her soft grey-blue eyes; his heart yearned over her, but there was something that he felt he must say. ‘The fact is, yer seem to be so tied to yer home, to yer mother – an’ sometimes I wonder if there’ll ever be a time when ye’ll be free.’
She lifted her head and looked at him straight in the eyes. ‘I don’t know, Harry. I’m needed here and that’s the truth – for the time bein’, I mean.’
There seemed to be nothing more he could say and he bent his head to kiss her. ‘I’ll pray for yer, Mabel, every night an’ mornin’ – my own dear girl,’ he murmured, his lips touching her hair almost reverently. His arms were round the slender waist, feeling the youthful curves of her body beneath the white pin-tucked blouse. For him she was the most beautiful thing imaginable, a vision of all that young womanhood should be.
The sweet, shared moment was brought to a sudden shattering end as Jack Court flew out of the front room where he had been sitting with Annie and hurled himself bodily at Harry. ‘What the bloody ’ell d’ye think ye’re up to, Drover? Take yer slimy ’ands orf my daughter an’ get out o’ my ’ouse, yer cantin’, preachin’, Bible-thumpin’ ‘Oly Joe!’
‘Dad!’ screamed Mabel, struggling to pull her father away from Harry who was making attempts to evade Court’s wildly flailing fists, but did not actively retaliate.
Annie appeared at the door of the front room, her pallid face aghast. ‘Jack!’ she shrieked. ‘Leave him, he’s a good boy, he loves Mab—’
‘Loves ’er enough to bugger up ’er life, stop ’er from betterin’ ’erself. I know ’is sort, the crafty bastard. Salvation bloody Army – I’ll kill ’im!’
Harry wrenched himself free and opened the door, panting heavily. ‘Come with me, Mabel, don’t stay ’ere – come ’ome with me, please!’
‘I can’t, Harry, I can’t leave Mum an’ the children,’ she cried frantically. ‘Go on, go on, I’ll see yer when I can, only just go – get away!’
Looking back later, Mabel saw this incident as the beginning of the trouble that was to befall them all, though Jack’s rage evaporated as quickly as it had flared up and he seemed scarcely to remember it.
Annie tried to defend him to Mabel, though she admitted that his behaviour had been strange at times, alternating between loving moods and sudden abrupt rejections. ‘Don’t be too hard on him, Mabel, it’s only that he doesn’t think young Drover’s good enough for you. Just leave him to settle down again – you can always meet Harry at the Citadel.’
‘That’s all very well, Mum, but he can’t treat people like that – he’ll get himself arrested if he does!’ Mabel was extremely indignant. ‘He’d never have dared to go for Harry like that if Albert had been at home!’
‘Oh, don’t make things worse, Mabel, your father’s usually so kind and thoughtful, especially when I haven’t been feeling up to the mark – you know, this heavy flooding, it leaves me so tired.’
Mabel knew only too well. The folded linen rags that her mother wore appeared in a bucket under the sink every three weeks, heavily bloodstained and with sickeningly large clots. When she had urged Annie to consult Dr Knowles, her mother shuddered at the very thought. ‘It’s a woman’s lot, Mabel. Most o’ the women I know have the same trouble after having a family and none of us want . . . an operation.’ She lowered her voice as she uttered the dreaded word. ‘Anyway, it’s not the sort o’ thing a woman can talk about to a man.’
‘But he’s a doctor, Mum, and you’ve known him for years,’ pleaded Mabel in exasperation. ‘He might send you to a specialist at the Bolingbroke Hospital or the Anti-Viv and yer never know, there might be something they can do.’
It was of no avail. Annie was resigned to ‘women’s trouble’ and trusted that the ‘change of life’ in a few years’ time would release her from the regular ordeal. She was thirty-seven.
The next day after Jack’s outburst Harry waylaid Mabel as she was returning from the late shift at the Rescue in the evening. He had been waiting for her to appear, having not had a minute’s peace of mind since the violent scene of their parting. ‘Oh, Mabel, there you are, thank God! How’re things at home? Are yer all right?’
‘Yes, yes, he settled down in an hour and behaved as usual, as if nothing had happened.’
‘But he’s mad, Mabel, dangerous – I worry all the time about yer. Let me take yer away from Sorrel Street, I know a Salvation Army couple yer can lodge with—’
‘How could I, with me mother not well an’ the children needing me?’ she asked helplessly. ‘It’d be best if yer got on with yer trainin’, Harry, because I can’t leave Sorrel Street, so don’t ask me to.’ She spoke with a finality that he knew it would be useless to oppose.
They were standing on the corner of Clapham Park Road, with people passing them by; it was not a time for embracing, but Harry
took hold of her hand. ‘I can’t help worryin’ about yer, Mabel, thinkin’ o’ yer under the same roof with that man.’
‘I’ve told yer, I can’t leave the others. Ye’ll just have to pray for us all, Harry – and me dad.’
For once Harry Drover felt a lack of charity and his usually kind mouth hardened, aware of his own powerlessness in this frightening situation. ‘Oh, Mabel, my love – yer know I’m always here, waitin’ for yer. I’d wait for ever.’
‘I know, Harry,’ she answered. ‘I know.’
Worried as she was about her mother, Mabel now began to be seriously concerned about her father’s unpredictable behaviour. She could only speculate about what kind of pressure he might be under, but warned by Annie, she did not try to approach him in order to talk about it. There seemed to be a conspiracy of silence in the home and she did not question the children, which was something she later regretted.
Working long and often irregular hours at the Rescue, sometimes on the evening shift, it was some time before Mabel realised that George and Daisy were coming home later and later from school. They would glance warily at each other over supper and were oddly silent in their father’s presence. This seemed to irritate Jack all the more and he constantly nagged at George, forever telling him to sit up straight, speak clearly and use what brains he had.
To celebrate her eighteenth birthday Mabel planned to bring home a fried fish supper for them all, and told Annie to have the table laid and hot plates ready. As she turned the corner of Sorrel Street with the newly wrapped supper in her leather shopping bag, she saw a knot of women standing muttering to each other near to her own front door, and at the same time she heard furious shouts and screaming from inside the house. Shoving her bag with the packets of fish and chips under her arm, she charged through the door and came upon Jack attacking George, punching him viciously round the head while the boy cringed and held his arms across his face to fend off the blows. ‘You stupid, bloody idiot – you brainless little numbskull!’ Jack was shouting, apparently beside himself with rage. Daisy was screaming in terror and Annie clung helplessly to an open-mouthed Alice.
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