A Child's Voice Calling

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A Child's Voice Calling Page 36

by Maggie Bennett


  She paused and looked up pleadingly. It was the longest speech that Mabel had ever heard her make; usually she could barely string two sentences together.

  It was at this moment that she caught sight of Harry and, disobeying the sergeant he stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘Ye’ve been a dutiful daughter, Miss Lawton. What yer sister did was no responsibility o’ yours, so don’t blame yerself for it.’

  ‘Mr Drover! You’ve come back to Mabel – and you know she’s innocent, don’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, Miss Lawton, I know.’

  Sergeant Wragge was quite bemused and Mabel could only look on in astonishment. How did Harry know what Mrs Court did and why wasn’t he thoroughly horrified by it? Or had he misunderstood?

  Evidently not, because Miss Lawton went on confidingly, ‘All those women who came to the house, and those Prudence went to visit in their own homes – I knew about every single one, Mr Drover, and I used to pray for them. And do you know, Prudence never lost one, not until now. But Mabel had nothing to do with them.’

  ‘Nothin’ to do with these – abortions, yer mean?’ asked Sergeant Wragge point-blank, thinking it was time he asserted his authority and made it clear what they were talking about.

  Mabel winced, but Ruth answered him at once. ‘Absolutely nothing, officer, I swear. She looked after the maternity cases in Tooting. Prudence never took on local women in trouble – her special clients paid her a hundred pounds, that’s how she made her money. They were much wealthier than the ones Mabel attended.’

  Mabel simply could not believe her ears. To hear the unmentionable openly talked about in a police custody office and Harry of all people listening – it was incredible.

  And more incredible revelations were to come. Sergeant Wragge’s curiosity had been aroused by what he had heard. ‘This son of hers, Miss Lawton, this Jack Court,’ he cut in. ‘Didn’t he get killed last year in an accident? Fell downstairs an’ broke his skull if I remember. Was he her only, er, child?’

  ‘That’s right, officer, Prudence was barely twenty when Jack was born. His father was a gentleman, the son of a high official in the Indian Civil Service, received at Queen Victoria’s court. The boy had been brought over to be educated in England when he met Prudence.’

  The two policemen exchanged a grin and Mabel recalled the scene outside the coroner’s court when Mimi had angrily rounded on Albert and told him that Jack’s father had been a prince among men. An Indian prince? She could just hear Albert laughing his head off at the very idea. Yet it would account for his swarthy appearance and Alice’s and Daisy’s dark-eyed beauty.

  Ruth Lawton’s shoulders suddenly drooped. She seemed drained of all energy and her face was grey with exhaustion. Wragge must have noticed too, for he closed his notebook and advised her to go home and rest.

  ‘Home? I’ll be moving into the Tooting Home from now on, officer – Prudence won’t want me at 23 Macaulay Road after this. And do you know, I don’t mind at all. I’m free for the first time in years. Free as air!’ She beamed a seraphic smile upon them all.

  ‘Take her down to the waiting room and get her a cup o’ tea,’ Wragge told the constable, standing up and looking embarrassed about returning Mabel to her cell. ‘Though I dare say ye’ll get off on account o’ the lack of evidence against yer, miss, an’ havin’ the, er, captain as a character witness,’ he added, assigning Drover a rank he had not yet attained. He stifled a yawn: it was time for Sergeant Whittaker to take over on the day shift.

  They never saw the arrival of Mrs Taylor at the front desk, demanding to see Mabel and informing the constable that they had taken in the wrong Court.

  ‘Yer can’t see nobody,’ he told her. ‘There’s been enough busybodies in an’ out o’ here already, it gets more like the Elephant an’ Castle by the minute. Tell yer what, though, missus, yer can take that poor ol’ lady ’ome.’ He gestured to where Miss Lawton sat on a form, smiling dreamily to herself.

  ‘What? Indeed I’ll do no such thing! What a cheek, treatin’ me as if I was no better than ol’ Mother Cheale!’ spluttered the indignant midwife, sending forth a spray of tiny drops of spit. She looked Miss Lawton up and down. ‘The poor ol’ soul looks three ’alfpence short o’ tuppence, anyway.’ She stared harder. ‘’Ere, I know where I’ve seen ’er. Don’t she lodge with that Court woman ’oo’s ’opped it? Yeah, that’s ’er, name o’ Lawton. Plays the pianna for the ol’ paupers in the Tootin’ ’ome.’

  ‘And Mrs Court’s sister, so she says. If ye’d be good enough to take her home, she’ll tell yer the ’ole story,’ said the constable artfully.

  ‘What? Oh, I see – well, all right, then, in that case. I’m always ready to do anybody a good turn.’ She walked over to the old lady in sudden goodwill. ‘You jus’ come along o’ me, dearie, an’ I’ll soon get yer home. Well, I never!’

  The officer from Lavender Hill station hardly noticed the two women as he strode into the station with new information. ‘All right, Whittaker, yer can let her go. The ol’ man’s called it off.’

  When Mabel was once again let out of the cell and taken upstairs to the office, she could scarcely take in what was being said to her.

  Harry, on the other hand, could hardly contain his joyful relief. ‘Ye’re free, Mabel, ye’re free, praise the Lord!’ he cried, impervious to Whittaker’s angry glare.

  ‘B-but what about the magistrate?’ faltered Mabel, clinging to the edge of the desk as her knees turned to water.

  Disapproval was written all over Whittaker’s surly features as he reeled off the formalities of discharge from police custody. ‘I jus’ told yer, Court, the case is orf, all charges withdrawn, an’ yer can go.’

  ‘Doesn’t Miss Court get any kind of apology for bein’ detained in a filthy cell for twelve hours?’ demanded Harry.

  ‘Why?’ snorted Whittaker. ‘Jus’ ’cause the charges are dropped don’t mean the crime ain’t been committed. Lady Stanley’s as dead as she was before, but ’er ’usband’s pretendin’ she died o’ natural causes, so’s to save a scandal. Not that everybody won’t guess it was an abortion. Well, go on, then, I’ve signed yer discharge, what’re yer waitin’ for?’

  But Mabel neither heard nor saw him. A buzzing in her ears drowned out all other sounds and a web of wavy black lines criss-crossed her vision, getting darker and thicker, blotting out the light.

  Harry caught her in his arms as she fell.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘HOW’RE YER FEELIN’ now, dearest? Fancy a cup o’ tea or somethin’?’

  Mabel opened her eyes and at first had the extraordinary sensation of being in bed with Harry beside her, but as she returned to full consciousness she found that she had been fast asleep on the sofa in Mimi Court’s front parlour.

  It was now midday and Harry was bending over her, his brown eyes full of tender concern. ‘There’s been a lot o’ callers, Mabel, but I wouldn’t let any of ’em disturb yer. There was a Mrs Hollis who left a note – here it is – she says yer can go an’ stay with her if yer haven’t anywhere to go, but—’

  ‘Who? Oh . . . oh yes, Mrs Hollis,’ said Mabel, recalling the dawn birth in Furzedown Road. ‘My little Anna Mabel’s nearly a year old already.’ She smiled. ‘Mm-mm – that was a lovely sleep, Harry.’ She yawned and stretched, unable to remember ever feeling so warm and safe and cherished, not since her earliest childhood and the shelter of her mother’s arms. ‘Where’s Miss La—Aunt Ruth?’ she asked, looking around.

  ‘Packin’ her clothes ready to go to the Tootin’ Home. The vicar o’ St Nicholas’s church has put in a word for her and the Matron’s got a place for her today.’

  ‘Today? But the Tooting Home’s a—’

  ‘It’s not a workhouse, but a place of refuge for the aged poor of the parish, Mabel,’ said Miss Lawton, coming into the room at that moment. She was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes, but her manner was composed, with just a little hint of anticipation. ‘It will s
uit me very well, Mabel, and I’ve already met quite a few of the elderly folk through my musical afternoons there,’ she continued. ‘Prudence often said I’d end up in a private asylum at her expense, but she won’t have to pay a penny to the Tooting Home.’ She paused and added with a self-conscious little blush, ‘As a matter of fact, the Matron says I’m just the sort of resident she prefers.’

  ‘I’m sure you are, Aunt Ruth – but are yer certain ye’d be happy in there with all those poor old men and women?’ asked Mabel doubtfully.

  Ruth Lawton stood and regarded her niece with a smile of pure contentment. ‘Much, much happier that I’ve ever been here, my dear. I shall be free, you see!’

  ‘Will yer get a cab to take yer belongin’s?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Drover has kindly arranged one for three o’clock and says he’ll come down with me,’ replied the lady. ‘And if you’ll excuse me, Mabel, I’d better go and finish packing.’

  When she had gone upstairs Harry turned to Mabel with a serious look. ‘And what about you, Mabel dear? Yer know yer can’t stay another night under this roof, not after what’s happened.’

  ‘I know, I know – I shouldn’t’ve come here in the first place, it was just that – there was nowhere else for me to go, not after George had left.’

  ‘Yer should’ve come to me, Mabel. I’d’ve found yer respectable lodgin’s with a Salvation Army couple; I’d’ve helped yer, stood by yer, looked after yer – ‘stead o’ which yer ran away from me an’ made us both unhappy, refusin’ to see me or answer me letters.’

  There was a reproach, almost a sternness in his voice that made Mabel look up sharply, half afraid of what she might see; but there was only pity in his eyes.

  For a while she sat in silence. There were things that had to be said, she knew, but how to begin? ‘How did Maudie get to hear where I was, Harry? An’ how did she find yer to let yer know?’

  ‘She said somethin’ about Sir Percy Stanley tellin’ her about the trouble yer were in, an’ then she spent half the night searchin’ for me,’ he answered gravely. ‘Poor Maud, she’s in bad enough trouble herself, now that her lady’s gone. I’ll be in her debt for life, an’ if I can do anythin’ to help her, I will.’

  Mabel tried to picture the scene between him and Maudie: what her friend had told him about Lady Stanley – and Mimi Court. ‘So that was how yer knew what Miss Lawton was talkin’ about this mornin’ at the station,’ she said tentatively, fearing the answer.

  He hesitated for a moment, as if debating within himself what he should reply. Placing his arm firmly round her shoulders he began to speak slowly and tenderly. ‘Yes, Mabel, my dear, Maud told me about yer grandmother’s business an’ it tied up with what Albert hinted at when he came over to see me at Clapton in May.’

  Mabel trembled. ‘What did Albert tell yer then, Harry?’

  ‘He gave me reason not to give up hope, Mabel. He didn’t say it in so many words, but he . . . he encouraged me to look ahead to some time in the future. An’ he also said ye’d gone for an interview at Booth Street Poor Law infirmary.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I start me trainin’ on the first o’ September,’ she answered eagerly. ‘That’s only six weeks away, an’ I thought I could stay here at Macaulay Road till then.’

  ‘But yer were wrong, Mabel, weren’t yer?’ he pointed out. ‘Look where it got yer! If the charges hadn’t been dropped, ye’d’ve lost yer place at Booth Street and yer reputation as a nurse.’

  Tarred with the same brush. The words came back to Mabel with sinister force. She sat up, jerking herself away from his arm. ‘Oh, Albert was right, he was right! He said I’d made a big mistake, comin’ here to live.’

  ‘Yer made an even bigger mistake in turnin’ away from me, Mabel,’ said Harry soberly. ‘If I’d only known what I know now – what Maud told me o’ the troubles in yer family – I wouldn’t’ve let yer keep me away. An’ I won’t ever let yer send me away again. We love each other, Mabel, we belong together, we have to share whatever befalls either of us, however long we have to wait to get married – can’t yer see that?’

  Mabel closed her eyes and let herself sink back against his shoulder. If he only knew all! ‘An’ yer don’t believe I had anythin’ to do with . . . with Lady Stanley or any o’ my grandmother’s special clients?’ she whispered.

  ‘’Course not! What Mrs Court did for money was very wrong – wicked, in fact, destroyin’ unborn children an’ puttin’ women’s lives at risk, but it isn’t for me to judge her or the women who went to her. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be a poor girl in a desperate predicament. But o’ course I know ye’re innocent, Mabel, I didn’t need Miss Lawton to tell me that. An’ in just the same way—’ He stopped speaking and put both arms around her before continuing in a low voice, ‘An’ in just the same way, dearest Mabel, yer weren’t to blame for the trouble that came upon yer parents – the infection—’

  Mabel stiffened in his arms and uttered an involuntary cry: ‘No!’

  ‘Hush, my love. It was yer poor father’s sin, not yer mother’s or yours. And nor could yer help the way yer father died, however it was – whatever it was that poor George knew.’

  ‘Harry!’

  Mabel could not believe what she was hearing. All the secrets, all the hateful facts that had separated her from the man she loved, now being spoken openly and by Harry himself – and without any condemnation of those concerned, only sorrow and pity for all of them: Annie, Jack, Albert, George and herself. What sort of a man was this? Albert had teased him in the past, laughing at ’ol’ ’Oly ‘Arry, blowin’ ’is trombone’ – but Albert had known his true worth and appreciated him in a way that perhaps she had not. Not until now.

  She tried to turn round in his arms to face him, but he thought she was trying to wriggle free from him, so tightened his hold. ‘Oh, no, Mabel, I shan’t ever let yer go again!’

  ‘But . . . but aren’t yer shocked, aren’t yer disgusted by all ye’ve heard? Doesn’t it make yer ashamed o’ me?’ she asked in genuine astonishment.

  ‘What d’ye take me for, Mabel? It’s made me sad, especially for your sake, but don’t forget I’m a Salvation Army man and there i’n’t much o’ life we don’t see. The only thing I hold against yer is the way yer treated us both, keepin’ me away so’s I couldn’t share yer trouble. Though I was a fool not to ’ave understood better ’n I did,’ he added with a little deprecating grimace. ‘Oh, Mabel, Mabel!’

  He relaxed his grip on her sufficiently to let her look into his face, at which she burst into tears, burying her face against his neck and the rough material of his tunic. ‘I only – did it – for – for yer own good!’ The words were almost hiccuped out between sobs.

  ‘Oh, my own poor, silly Mabel,’ he murmured, cradling her head as if soothing a child. ‘My own beautiful girl, when I think o’ what ye’ve had to bear o’ the wrongs an’ weaknesses of others, and you as pure an’ innocent a lamb as ever was!’

  She went on weeping, but there was a kind of blessed relief in the unrestrained flow of tears. Stroking her hair, his lips brushing the fair tendrils sticking to her forehead, he went on speaking softly as she quietened: ‘But what’s so wonderful to me is that it hasn’t touched yer, Mabel, ye’ve been a light in the darkness o’ this world – at Sorrel Street, at the Rescue, an’ even here under yer grandmother’s roof.’ He smiled as a memory returned. ‘D’ye know what I used to do, all this long time we’ve been apart? I’ve looked up at the night sky an’ seen yer lovely face shinin’ down on me like an angel. Yer can laugh if yer like, Mabel, but that’s how I’ve always thought o’ yer, time an’ time again, when I was starvin’ for a sight o’ yer, an’ yer wouldn’t let me near. I’ve never stopped hopin’ an’ prayin’, never stopped lovin’ yer, Mabel, an’ never will. An’ now ye’re in my arms again, real and livin’, I’ll never, ever let yer keep me away any more!’

  As he stopped speaking she lifted her head and no more words were needed. With the tears still wet on
her cheeks Mabel yielded her mouth to his ardent kiss: a kiss that swept away all the misery of the past year, all her misapprehensions on a healing tide of love. Her arms went up around his neck and her hands locked behind his head, holding on, clinging to what she held most dear.

  In that moment Harry Drover thought he need never again fear to lose Mabel. She was his for as long as they both lived.

  Everybody seemed to have heard about Nurse Court’s night in police custody, and anger against Mrs Court was loud and indignant. Gifts of money and food had arrived for Mabel, and offers of hospitality; she eagerly read the note from Mrs Hollis of Furzedown Road, offering her a room for as long as she needed accommodation.

  It gradually became clear that the general condemnation of Mimi Court was more for abandoning Mabel rather than for her part in Lady Stanley’s death.

 

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