A Mother's Promise

by Dilly Court

  ‘You shouldn’t be out alone at this time of night,’ Tom said breathlessly. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

  She did not want to admit it, but it was a relief to have a big man who could use his fists if needs be walking by her side. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said, trying to sound casual.

  ‘Why are you afraid of Clench? What’s he done to scare you?’

  ‘Nothing more than the usual. He got a bit too familiar with me this morning. Sammy and Eddie threw snowballs at him and knocked his hat off. Clench went chasing after them but he couldn’t catch them.’

  Tom gave a throaty chuckle. ‘Little monkeys! But it serves the old dog right. It’s a crying shame you had to borrow money off him.’

  ‘I know, but it was for Ma’s funeral. I couldn’t let them treat her like a pauper. It wouldn’t have been right.’

  Tom took her hand and squeezed it. ‘No, it wouldn’t. The poor woman had enough to bear in life. She deserved a bit of dignity in death.’

  ‘I knew you’d understand.’ Hetty flashed him a grateful smile and she curled her fingers around his large hand. They walked on in silence until they reached the top of Dye House Lane. She slipped on the ice and would have fallen if Tom had not caught her. He held on to her longer than was strictly necessary, and for a moment Hetty allowed herself to lean against him. His jacket was rough against her cheek and the smell of the gasworks lingered in the coarse woollen fibres. His arms tightened around her but she drew away from him. ‘You go on home, Tom. There’s no need for you to be late for your supper. I can go the rest of the way on me own.’

  ‘I said I’d walk you home, and walk you home I will.’ He linked her hand through his arm. ‘Ma will have put something by for my supper.’

  Hetty stifled a sigh of relief. Any other man might have taken offence at being pushed away so abruptly, but not Tom. She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. ‘I must make time to visit your mum. She was always good to me when I was a nipper, but what with working such long hours I don’t get out much these days.’

  ‘Neither does she, poor soul. Since the accident at the factory she can only walk a couple of yards. She sits indoors all day making matchboxes, but her hands is bad too, so she can’t make more than a gross a day. I tell her it’s hardly worth her while, but she says it keeps her from fretting, and twopence farthing is better than nuppence. It means she can afford a quarter-ounce of snuff every so often, and that’s her main pleasure. It’s little enough when all is said and done.’

  ‘Ma used to say that “what can’t be cured must be endured”, but that doesn’t help when someone you love is suffering. I feel for you, Tom, and for your poor mother too.’ Hetty glanced up at him and saw his jaw tighten as he struggled with an unspoken emotion. They walked on in silence until they reached Hetty’s house.

  ‘I’ll wait until you’re safely indoors,’ Tom said, opening the gate at the top of the area steps.

  ‘Thanks for walking me home. I dunno why, but I’m all jittery and jumpy this evening.’

  He leaned over the railings to peer in through the window. ‘You’d best go in quick; I think the nippers are fighting.’

  ‘I’ll put a stop to that.’ Hetty was about to run down the steps, but Tom caught her by the hand.

  ‘Hetty, will you walk out with me on Sunday afternoon?’ He dragged his cap off his head. ‘Just to Victoria Park. We could listen to the band and go for a stroll.’

  She could hear Sammy and Eddie yelling at each other like a couple of street urchins and she wanted to get to them before they hurt each other, but something in Tom’s expression made her hesitate. She couldn’t bring herself to disappoint him and she smiled. ‘Ta, I’d like that very much.’

  ‘That’s splendid. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, then.’

  ‘The day after tomorrow,’ Hetty repeated. ‘Goodnight, Tom.’ She made her way carefully down the snowy steps and a wave of sound hit her as she opened the front door. ‘What’s going on here?’ she demanded. ‘Can’t I leave you two for five minutes without you turning into wild beasts?’

  Despite the blanket of snow covering the grass in Victoria Park, the sky was blue and the pale rays of the sun reflected off the frozen surface of the boating lake. Ducks waddled about on the ice, slithering and slipping as they searched for a patch of open water. Hetty and Tom walked along the path beside the lake, keeping up a brisk pace, while Sammy and Eddie raced about in a high state of excitement, shrieking and pelting each other with snowballs. In spite of the bitterly cold weather, the park was crowded with people out for a breath of fresh air in the only open space for miles around. Most of the trees were bare with their black branches forming intricate lacy patterns against the azure sky, but there were some evergreens and their boughs were drooping beneath the weight of the snow. The band had braved the weather and the strains of a military march filtered across the lake from the bandstand.

  ‘Are you glad you came?’ Tom asked, tucking Hetty’s hand in the crook of his arm.

  She took a deep breath of the ice-cold air, inhaling the resinous scent of the pine trees. The covering of snow seemed to have absorbed the noxious smells from the factories, abattoirs and the gasworks. This white oasis in an otherwise grey world was like a frosted heaven to Hetty and she smiled. ‘It’s lovely, Tom. I’m so glad I came.’

  ‘Are you? Are you really?’ His brown eyes shone with pleasure.

  ‘Of course I am, and the boys are having a fine old time of it. Ouch!’ A snowball had caught her between the shoulder blades and Hetty came to a sudden halt, turning on Sammy with a threatening glare. ‘You little monster!’ She bent down to pick up a handful of snow and pelted it at him with all her might. It struck him on the head, sending a shower of snowflakes down his neck.

  ‘That’ll teach you,’ Tom said, chuckling. He made a snowball and threw it, quite gently, Hetty was quick to notice, at Eddie. Soon they were in the middle of the best snowball fight ever, slipping and sliding and laughing until they were all out of breath and had to take a rest.

  Hetty stamped her feet and blew on her cold hands. ‘I think that’s enough of that, boys. I’m freezing to death here.’

  Tom hooked his arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on then, let’s have a nice hot cup of tea, and maybe I could even run to a sticky bun for the nippers.’

  Whooping and giggling, Sammy and Eddie ran on ahead to the refreshment rooms where Tom treated them to mugs of cocoa and sticky buns crammed with juicy currants. They sat at a table in the window overlooking the gardens which in summer would be filled with flowers, and drank hot, sweet tea. Quite suddenly, so it seemed to Hetty, the grey-white daylight faded into a mystical dusk and the lamplighter was on his rounds with his long pole, igniting the gas lamps. The whole park was turned from silver to gold. She laid her hand on Tom’s as it rested on the tabletop. ‘This has been the best time I’ve ever had.’

  ‘Me too,’ Sammy cried, picking up the thick china plate and licking off the crumbs.

  ‘And me,’ Eddie echoed, copying his elder brother, his pink tongue giving the plate a good wash.

  ‘Where’s your manners, boys?’ Hetty said, giving them a stern look.

  ‘Oh, leave them be, Hetty.’ Tom leaned back in his chair. ‘It’s been really spiffing as the toffs say. But it’s getting dark and the park will be closing soon. We’d best be on our way.’ He put on his cap and stood up, proffering his arm to her. ‘Would you care to accompany me, my lady?’

  She rose to her feet and laid her hand on his arm. ‘Ta ever so, milord.’

  Sammy pulled a face. ‘Hetty and Tom have gone barmy. Next stop, Colney Hatch.’

  Tom laughed. ‘Less of your cheek, young Huggins, or I won’t bring you here next time me and Hetty go stepping out.’

  Hetty wound her shawl around her shoulders, flicking Tom a glance beneath her lashes. ‘Who said there was going to be a next time?’

  ‘Well, isn’t there? Didn’t you just say this was the best time you’d ever had?’
>
  ‘I did, and I meant it.’

  ‘Then you’ll come out with me again?’ Tom moved swiftly to open the door for her. ‘Will you, Hetty?’

  She linked her arm in his as they stepped outside. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  As usual, Sammy and Eddie ran on ahead. Hetty and Tom followed more slowly. She was reluctant to leave this enchanted place, which was so far removed from Autumn Road or the match factory that it was like being in another world. They crossed the bridge over Sir George Duckett’s canal, and Tom covered her hand with his as it nestled in the crook of his arm. ‘Look at them stars, Hetty,’ he said, pointing up at the sky. ‘They look so big and bright you could almost reach out and touch them.’

  Hetty was so deep in thought that she glanced up at him with a guilty start. ‘Sorry, what did you just say?’

  ‘I said the moon is made of green cheese and I can see the man in the moon laughing down at us.’

  ‘You never!’

  ‘No, I didn’t, but I might have done for all the attention you was paying me.’

  ‘I was miles away.’

  ‘I could see that. Penny for ‘em.’

  ‘I was just thinking that they must make a fortune in that refreshment room.’

  Tom chuckled. ‘And there was me imagining that you was carried away with romantic thoughts about starlit nights and the moon shining on the snow.’

  ‘I can’t afford to have romantic notions. I was working out how much they must have taken on cups of tea, cakes and buns. Places selling food must make a good living. Take Greasy Joe’s café, for instance. I bet he makes a small fortune every day.’

  ‘What are you getting at, Hetty?’

  ‘Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking that there must be better ways to earn a living than making up matchboxes, or working in the match factory until you die of phossy jaw.’

  ‘Costs a lot of money to set up in one of them places.’

  ‘Yes,’ Hetty said, sighing. ‘It’s just a daydream, Tom. A silly old dream.’

  Chapter Three

  On the following Sunday, Hetty needed no second invitation to accompany Tom to Victoria Park. It was not the frozen boating lake or the band music that attracted her, but the refreshment rooms. Ideas had been buzzing round in her brain like bees in a hive, and the idea of selling food and drink for a living had become more and more appealing. If she could begin in a small way, perhaps selling sandwiches from a handcart outside one of the main railway stations, she might in time be able to get a proper coffee stall, and then another, which Jane could run with the help of Sammy. Eddie was too small yet, but he would soon grow.

  She could hardly wait until the end of their walk, hoping that Tom would suggest a trip to the refreshment rooms. She couldn’t very well ask him to take them. If he couldn’t afford it he would be embarrassed, and she wouldn’t hurt Tom’s feelings for the world. But, as luck would have it, a fresh flurry of snow sent everyone scurrying for home or shelter and Tom suggested a cup of tea would be just the ticket. Sammy and Eddie were there almost before the words were out of his mouth. Tom, acting the gentleman, told them all to take a seat, but Hetty insisted on accompanying him to the counter. While they waited to be served, she studied the display of cakes glistening with sugar crystals beneath glass domes, the trays of sticky buns, studded with currants, and tarts filled with strawberry jam or lemon curd. There were ham sandwiches as well as cheese and cucumber, although the bread was curling a bit at the edges and they did not look too appetising. Hetty decided that she would make hers fresh, to order, and she would use butter and not margarine, with slices of the best ham and cheddar cheese.

  Turning her attention to the woman behind the counter who was serving the tea and coffee, Hetty made a mental note of the equipment that she might need to start up a stall, in a small way of course. Her mind was so busy with figures that when Tom spoke to her he had to repeat everything twice. Even Sammy and Eddie noticed that her mind was far away, and they began to play up, earning a stern rebuke from Tom that quietened them for a few minutes.

  On the way home, Tom took her by the hand. ‘You’re not still thinking about going into the grub business, are you, Hetty?’

  ‘I’m thinking about it, but that’s as far as it goes. We got no money and never likely to have any working from home, what with paying the rent and giving that bloodsucker Clench his dues.’

  ‘I’d help you if I could, but apart from a few pennies a week for meself, everything I earns goes to me mum to help feed us all. What with Phyllis and Phoebe married and moved away, and Marie with her living-in job at the pub, there’s only my wages and what Sally earns working at Bryant and May to keep us going.’

  Hetty bit her lip, feeling horribly guilty. She had allowed Tom to spend what little money he had on her and the boys, and all because she had this grand idea of starting up her own business.’ Oh, Tom. You should have said. There’s me letting you treat us to buns and tea when you can’t afford it.’

  ‘I ain’t complaining, Hetty. It’s a pleasure to have your company, and I’m fond of the nippers. I was like them not so long ago, so I know the value of an outing or two.’

  They had reached the house in Autumn Road and the snow was falling heavily, settling on the frozen ground and forming drifts against the walls. Hetty could barely see Sammy and Eddie, who were little more than shadowy shapes as they attempted to build a snowman. She called out to them. ‘Sammy, Eddie, get indoors now.’

  Tom squeezed her fingers. ‘Can I come in and have a warm by your fire before I set off for home?’

  She glanced down the area steps, but there was no telltale gleam of light in the window to show that Jane was at home. She had almost certainly gone out walking with Nat, and that worried Hetty. Nat was twenty-six, a good ten years older than Jane. He wasn’t a love-struck boy who would be satisfied with a kiss and a cuddle. She could only hope that Jane would have a bit of sense this time, and not allow things to go too far.

  ‘Can I, Hetty?’ Tom urged when she did not respond immediately.

  ‘All right then, Tom. Just to get warm mind, and no funny business.’

  ‘Cross me heart, but if I stands out here any longer I’ll turn into a snowman.’

  Hetty giggled at the thought. ‘Come on then.’ She paused on the top step. ‘Sammy, Eddie, if you don’t come in right away there’ll be no supper for you.’

  She negotiated the area steps, treading with care as they were slicked with ice beneath the powdering of snow. Hurrying indoors, she lit a candle and went to riddle the embers in the grate. There was a only a small amount of coal in the bottom of the sack, but she added a couple of lumps anyway, even though she knew that there would be precious little left to light the fire next day.

  Tom took off his cap and jacket. ‘Is that all the coal you’ve got?’

  ‘I’ll send the boys out for some more in the morning,’ Hetty lied, knowing very well that the cocoa tin on the mantelshelf where she kept the housekeeping money was empty. She placed the kettle on the trivet and swung it over the flames. ‘It’ll take a while.’

  ‘Tell me the truth. Have you got enough money to buy coal?’

  ‘Of course I have. Would I lie to you?’ Hetty turned away from him as Sammy and Eddie burst through the door with their boots covered in snow. ‘Take them wet boots off, and your jackets too. Come and sit by the fire and get warm.’ She turned back to Tom and saw him staring round the room with a furrowed brow. ‘What are you staring at? You know how we have to live. It’s nothing new.’

  ‘One day I’ll get you out of this, Hetty,’ he said, taking her by the shoulders and gazing earnestly into her eyes. ‘We’ll get wed and have a nice house with plenty of food on the table. You won’t never have to wear yourself out making matchboxes ever again.’

  ‘I told you, Tom, I got plans and they don’t include getting hitched to you, or anyone else for that matter.’

  ‘We was meant for each other, Hetty.’

  ‘Is he goin
g to kiss her?’ Eddie asked in a stage whisper.

  Sammy dug him in the ribs. ‘Shut up, stupid.’

  ‘No, he ain’t,’ Hetty said, hoping that the dim light hid her blushes.

  Tom tightened his grasp on her shoulders. ‘Yes, he is.’ He drew her to him and kissed her full on the lips.

  She pushed him away, covering her hot cheeks with her hands. ‘Stop it, you silly thing. In front of the nippers too.’

  ‘Go on,’ Sammy cried, clapping his hands. ‘Kiss her again.’

  Tom held up his hands, grinning. ‘I will, but next time she’ll want me to do it.’

  ‘Get on with you, you soft thing,’ Hetty said, covering her embarrassment with a nervous giggle. ‘Stop larking about and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

  He shook his head. ‘Ta, but I think I’d best make me way home. Will you come to the park with me again next Sunday?’

  ‘I might, but only for a walk. You can’t afford to keep treating us.’

  ‘Don’t be mean,’ Sammy grumbled. ‘I look forward to a sticky bun on a Sunday afternoon.’

  Tom chuckled and ruffled his hair. ‘We’ll see, nipper.’ He moved towards the door, pausing with his hand on the latch. ‘I shan’t see you in the week, Hetty. I’ve got overtime.’