Not for the first time in the last few months, Ettie wished that she could talk to Maisie. She always had a way of making her feel better, of making her laugh at herself. But knowing how Maisie had also expected her to pair up with Billy one day, she didn’t know if her friend would ever want to see her again. It seemed unbearably sad to her, that that part of her life might only be a memory, that it was behind her.
Jacob came into the room, concentrating on fastening his cape round his shoulders. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked, but as he raised his eyes to look at her all thoughts of his cape left him. ‘You look so beautiful, Ettie,’ he murmured. ‘Truly beautiful. Every man in the restaurant will envy me.’ He touched her hair, taming a wayward, shiny black curl with his sensitive, magician’s hands. Tonight, as we make ready to enter 1888, we will be celebrating more than the beginning of a New Year, we will be celebrating a new you. You have been a wonderful student, Ettie. Wonderful.’
Ta,’ she said before she could help herself. ‘Thank you, I mean.’
He smiled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. ‘You have learnt well, Ettie, but I think it might be better if, for a while, until we train your voice properly, you maintain a mysterious silence during our performances. Yes. Silence.’ The idea inspired him. ‘Mysteriously silent. That’s good. Very good. We will cast a veil over your identity. Instead of a new name, you will have no name! You will be the mysterious, silent beauty. ‘Watch her!” I will command them. “Watch her! Death itself has whispered in her ear.” Ettie, the world will be at our feet.’
‘Oh yes, you’re a real genius, you are,’ said Ettie casting her eyes heavenwards. ‘So how do you think I’m going to give the messages out if I’m silent?’
Jacob shook his head in admiration. ‘Ettie, you are not only beautiful, you are clever as well. And sensible. I become carried away with my schemes and you bring me back to reality. But don’t worry, I’ll think of something.’
‘I bet you will,’ she said simply.
‘We’ll go far, the two of us, Ettie. We can’t fail.’
* * *
Jacob and Ettie stood outside on the pavement, hoping somehow to attract a cab to join the crowds of celebrating Londoners who were heading towards the West End. There was expectation in the air, the feeling that something momentous was about to happen.
‘You’ve grown very quiet, Ettie. Is something wrong?’
‘I feel, I don’t know. Sad. And guilty, I suppose. It’s so long since I saw my mum.’ She looked up into Jacob’s face. ‘Before you say anything. I know what I told you about her and how she treated me, but she is my mum. And she wasn’t always like she is now. She was different once. She did the best she could.’ She sighed loudly. ‘And I miss my mates. I know, I know,’ she said wretchedly, before he could object. ‘My friends.’
‘Let’s change our plans. Instead of going to supper at the restaurant, we’ll go to Whitechapel to see in the New Year. I think I owe you that.’
Ettie’s face brightened. ‘Owe me? Why?’
‘For many reasons, but one very good one is that you stayed with me at Christmas instead of going to your mother.’
‘Mum was all right. She doesn’t know one day from the next, long as she’s got her bottle.’
‘I still appreciated it. Even though I don’t celebrate the festival, it would have been very lonely up in those rooms without you.’ Ettie looked hard at Jacob, trying to see if he was mocking her, trying to see beyond his sophisticated, cultured exterior into the mind, and maybe into the heart of a caring, sentimental man who could surprise her even after she had shared his home for nearly seven months.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind going down there?’
‘Of course I don’t. And I will be intrigued to see how cockneys celebrate their New Year.’
‘We can go to the Frying Pan,’ she said excitedly. ‘That’s our local: me and the girls used to have a right old time down there. And me mum’s always in there. You see, we’ll have a right old time and all.’
Jacob smiled to see her look so happy, even though she had slipped so easily back to her old way of speaking. ‘And I’m sure it’ll be a sight safer than the West End tonight,’ he said. ‘There’s been a bad feeling since that fellow was killed in the riot.’
Ettie’s smile disappeared. ‘It makes me wild. All them people on the streets for his funeral, all weeping and wailing. It was one bloke what died. One. Do you know how many people die every single day on the streets in the slums? How many babies starve to death?’
‘Ettie, that’s…’
‘Different?’ she almost yelled. ‘Is that what you were going to say? Different because he died in the West End?’
‘No, Ettie, it wasn’t. I was going to say that one man dying in his protest against poverty has seemed to touch the hearts of the privileged in a way that nothing else has. It’s brought it to the attention of people who were ignorant of the truth.’
‘I’m sorry, Jacob. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. Let’s leave it, eh? Not tonight. Don’t let’s spoil everything.’ She tried a small smile. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing Mum.’ Then even the small smile disappeared. ‘We are still going, aren’t we?’
‘Yeah, darling,’ said Jacob in a very creditable imitation of a cockney twang. ‘’Course we are.’ He held out his arm to Ettie and winked broadly. ‘Shall we be off then, me old duchess?’
She took his arm and squeezed it.
‘What’s so funny then, cocker?’ asked Jacob.
‘You,’ she said. ‘To think I once believed you had special powers.’
‘Maybe I have,’ he said, reverting to his usual polished tones. ‘In that case, show us how you can get a cab, eh? I’m freezing me arse off standing here.’
Within fifteen minutes they were in Thrawl Street, and Jacob was handing over the fare to the cabman.
‘Watch yerselves,’ called the driver from his perch, tipping his hat before pocketing the coins Jacob had just handed him. ‘This pub ain’t really the place for the likes of ladies and gents like yerselves, yer know. Take care, won’t yer? And Happy New Year to both of yer.’
‘There’s one fellow who’s convinced you’re a lady,’ said Jacob as the cab pulled away into Brick Lane, leaving them standing outside the Frying Pan. ‘Now let’s see what your mother makes of you.’
Chapter 13
‘Well, bugger me, look at her ladyship!’ shrieked Florrie as she dragged Ada in a beeline across the pub, through the throng of laughing and singing merrymakers, towards the door where Ettie and Jacob had just come in: Flo and Ada knew the look of a soft touch when they saw one.
‘Hello, girls,’ smiled Ettie, trying to hide the fact that she’d wrinkled her nose at the now unaccustomed stench of unwashed clothes and bodies. ‘Jacob, these are my old pals, Ada and Florrie.’
‘Long time no see,’ said Ada, looking Jacob up and down. ‘This the fancy man we’ve heard so much about? A crook or something, ain’t yer mate?’
Ettie’s mouth dropped open, but Jacob took the question in good part.
‘A very successful bank robber actually, madam,’ he said, taking off his tall hat and bowing low to the two brides. ‘Now, may I spend some of my ill-gotten gains on buying you charming ladies a drink or two with which to see in the New Year?’
Florrie nudged Ada sharply in the ribs. ‘We’ve got a right one here,’ she giggled.
Ettie did her best to keep up with Jacob as he worked his way through the crowded room to the bar. She got there just as he was handing over a handful of coins to the landlord. Ettie stretched forward and took back a florin.
‘Yer know we don’t do our own round here, Patrick,’ she said, handing the money back to Jacob.
‘Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t know he was with you,’ said Patrick in his soft Irish lilt, shrugging happily before getting on with serving the line of customers vying for his attention.
Jacob laughed and picked up the glasses from the beer-stained counter as Ada yel
led across that she’d found them a table.
Holding the glasses high above his head, Jacob led Ettie through the crowd to where Ada and Florrie where now ensconced in the corner of the room near the door.
‘I’ll drink this, then I’ll nip over and fetch me mum,’ Ettie said, licking the thick, creamy foam that the porter had left on her lips.
‘Yeah, you do that, Ett,’ said Flo, flashing her brown, gap-toothed smile at Jacob. ‘We’ll look after yer friend here for yer, won’t we, Ada?’
‘Certainly will,’ beamed Ada.
‘How charming of you ladies to offer,’ said Jacob, flashing his own, white-toothed smile in return. ‘But I think that I should accompany Ettie if she has to go outside – especially on an evening such as this.’
‘Couldn’t yer just eat him up?’ said Ada, pinching Jacob’s cheek between a filth-ingrained finger and thumb. ‘Yer a lucky mare, Ettie Wilkins.’
‘Here, look what the cat’s dragged in,’ said Ada, gesturing towards the door with her already half-empty glass.
‘Yer can see she’s been on the turps already,’ smirked Flo.
‘Cor, you ain’t wrong there,’ sneered Ada. ‘Yer can smell she has and all. I thought you ponged bad enough, Flo, but she stinks.’
‘Thanks very much,’ said Flo good-naturedly, and sipped delicately at her gin.
‘Look at the state of her,’ continued Ada with a disgusted shake of her head, and gulped down the last of her drink.
Ettie took a deep breath, stood up, and walked over to the barely sensible woman who had just stumbled into the bar.
‘Ettie?’ Jacob scraped back his chair, unsure where she was going and whether or not to join her.
Ettie swallowed hard, took the inebriated woman’s arm and said gently, ‘Hello, Mum. How yer been?’
The pub’s drinkers were now in almost full celebratory flight: the piano was going non-stop, songs were being sung, and the occasional knees-up was beginning to break out. In the corner by the door, Ettie had wedged her mother between her and Flo to keep her upright, while Jacob and Ada made sure that drinks were fetched at increasingly frequent intervals from the bar.
‘Mum,’ said Ettie earnestly, as she tried to keep Sarah upright, ‘please, let me get yer a different place to stay. Somewhere near me, over by Vicky Park, then I can look after yer.’
‘Bow?’ She almost spat the word out. ‘Leave off. What do I wanna go and live in that shit-hole for?’
Ettie winced. ‘Well, if I make sure yer have enough money for… for whatever yer need, at least promise me you’ll get rid of that lodger.’ Ettie went to put her finger to the deep bruising on Sarah’s otherwise whey-coloured face, but her mother brushed her hand away.
‘Yer don’t know nothing, you. How d’yer think I’d do that, eh? He likes hurting people, see.’ Sarah’s eyes swum in and out of focus.
‘You wouldn’t have to worry about that. I’d make sure someone’d get rid of him for you, Mum.’
‘Maybe I like having him around,’ challenged Sarah, holding up her empty glass to whoever was interested.
Jacob took it from her and went to the bar.
‘Yer all right, buggering off with yer fancy man, but how about me, eh?’ Sarah went on, her logic as well as her speech confused by the drink. ‘Who’s meant to give him what he wants every minute of the night and day?’
‘Shut up, Mum. Yer not making any sense.’ Ettie’s face was flushed as much from embarrassment as from the stuffy atmosphere in the over-crowded pub. ‘Do you wanna get rid of him, or what?’
‘Aw, belt up yerself,’ slurred Sarah.
‘Do you think that your mother should be getting home to bed?’ asked Jacob quietly as he handed Sarah the drink and watched her pour it straight down her throat. He’d done as Ettie had asked and had told Patrick to cut her drinks with water, but she was still knocking back enough to lay out a six-foot docker.
‘Don’t wanna go to bed,’ mumbled Sarah, belching loudly. ‘I wanna dance.’
‘Mum…’ said Ettie, and tried to restrain Sarah, but she’d somehow got her second wind. She staggered to her feet, sending the table and her chair crashing to the ground.
Jacob picked up the table, then collected the broken glasses and took them over to the bar while Ettie tried to calm her mother. But before Ettie could stop her, Sarah had lurched her way into a little knot of drinkers, who willingly made a space to watch the spectacle of the drunken woman dancing a wild jig. Much to the amusement of her audience, she bent over and flung her skirts over her head, showing her torn and hole-ridden drawers to anyone who cared to look.
‘Go on, why don’t yer get ’em down, Sarah? Go on, girl, show us a bit more of what yer’ve got,’ one of them mocked, while the others held their noses and grimaced at the sight of the woman making a show of herself.
Ettie squeezed between two of the whooping, jeering men. ‘Stop it!’ she yelled, with tears streaming down her face, hammering her fists on the chest of one of her mother’s tormentors. ‘Leave her alone!’
The man looked down at Ettie and grinned. ‘Take after yer mother, do yer darling?’ he smirked, grabbing hold of her wrists. ‘How about it then? I could fancy a good-looker like you.’
‘Let me go,’ screeched Ettie, squirming to break free of the man’s grip.
‘If yer know what’s good for yer, yer’ll do as the lady says.’
The man let her go.
Ettie dropped her fists to her side and turned to see Billy Bury, arms folded, chin in the air, his stare threatening any of them to disagree. Behind him stood Alfie, a bottle held ready in his hand like a cosh.
‘Go on,’ said Bill, ‘all of yers. On yer way. There’s plenty going on down the Butcher’s. Get yourselves down there.’
With much mumbling and complaining, the little group did as they were told: there might have been six of them and only two Burys, but the odds were still against them coming out on top.
‘Ta, Bill. Alf,’ said Ettie, and tried to take her mother by the arm.
‘Piss off,’ hissed Sarah, shoving Ettie back against the bar. She swayed towards the door. ‘Yer’ve forgotten how to have a bit of fun, that’s your trouble, girl,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Yer’ve turned into a right little snot-nosed bitch.’ She opened the door and spat violently on the pub floor, then disappeared into the night.
‘Ettie?’ Jacob pushed through the crowd at the bar and touched her on the shoulder.
‘You took yer time showing up,’ sneered Billy. ‘Frightened yer might get that pretty face of yours kicked in if there was any trouble?’
‘Who’s this then?’ asked Alfie. ‘Out slumming, are yer mate?’
‘He’s with me, Alf,’ said Ettie impatiently, making her way towards the door. ‘Can’t yer all keep yer noses out for once? You’ve made Mum go off gawd-knows-where.’
Outside on the pavement Ettie didn’t know whether to head for Tyvern Court or the Butcher’s Arms. Her chest rose and fell as she leaned back against the soot-covered wall of the pub, not bothering about her new dress any more.
‘Ettie, I had no idea you were in trouble. Believe me, I wouldn’t have left you. You know that.’
She turned to see Jacob standing beside her, his face creased with concern.
‘Do me a favour,’ she said wearily. ‘Go back in and have a drink, will yer, and leave me alone for a bit.’
‘But it isn’t safe…’
‘It weren’t exactly safe in there just now, was it?’ she interrupted him. ‘Now please, leave me alone.’
‘I told you, Ettie. I didn’t realise what was happening.’
‘Please,’ she said, and turned her back.
‘As you wish,’ he said coldly.
Feeling a pressure on her arm, Ettie spun round ready to shout at Jacob to leave her alone, but the words dissolved in her mouth. ‘Billy,’ she said. ‘I didn’t expect it to be you.’
‘Like the old bad penny, ain’t I, Ett?’ he said, smiling gently. ‘I
keep turning up, don’t I?’
‘Thanks for helping us back there,’ Ettie said, doing her best to return his smile. ‘I couldn’t believe it, Bill. She was never as bad as this. She’s changed so much.’
‘She ain’t the only one,’ he said, raising his eyebrows at her elegant, candy-striped skirt and bodice.
‘These are just clothes,’ shrugged Ettie.
‘Just clothes?’ Billy said incredulously.
‘You know what I mean, Bill,’ insisted Ettie. ‘Me mum’s changed deep down. She’s different.’
Billy didn’t say anything, he just stood quietly by her side, rolling himself a cigarette and watching the revellers make their rowdy way up and down Brick Lane.
‘Least they’re having a good time,’ Ettie said eventually as one particularly boisterous crowd wove its way past them.
There was another pause, then Billy said over the din: ‘I heard yer was in the Pan, that’s why I come down here, to see yer like.’ He didn’t look at her as he spoke, but kept his eyes on the pavement as he ground out his cigarette butt under his boot.
‘I’m glad yer did,’ answered Ettie, glancing sideways at him.
‘Didn’t think there was gonna be no rows though.’ Billy laughed. ‘Just like old times eh, Ett? When me, you, May and Alfie used to go out for a few. We had some laughs, didn’t we?’
‘How’s May doing?’ asked Ettie, turning to him.
‘She misses yer,’ said Bill, still staring down at the flagstones.
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