by Dilly Court
'You could,' Reggie said, setting Joss down on the pavement. 'You could always come up for a visit.'
'Maybe I will, if my new employer allows it.'
'And you will let us know your new address?'
'Only if you promise not to let Meg pass it on to the Cribbs,' Eloise said with a teasing smile.
'Oh hell!' Reggie said, pushing his cap to the back of his head in an impatient gesture. 'I almost forgot to give this to you, Ellie.' He pulled an envelope out of his breast pocket. 'Your father-in-law passed it to me when his wife's back was turned. He said it had arrived soon after you left. I think it's come all the way from Africa.'
Eloise gasped with delight as she took it from him. It was her mother's handwriting and the tattered envelope looked as though it had passed through many hands before it had been placed in hers. She clasped it to her breast, moving her lips in an attempt to thank him, but a lump in her throat made it impossible to speak.
'I'd best be on me way, lass.' Reggie ruffled Joss's hair and patted Beth gently on the cheek. 'Goodbye, Ellie,' he said in a choked voice. 'I'll never forget you.'
'Nor I you, Reggie.' Eloise had a struggle to hold back tears as he walked away. If only she could have found it in her heart to love him, but she knew that would never happen and she could but hope that he would put his feeling for her aside and turn to faithful Maud for consolation. She watched Reggie striding off with only a slight hunch of his shoulders to betray his distress, and she fought down the desire to run after him. It was so tempting to take the easy way out, but that would not have been fair on either of them. She tucked her mother's letter safely away in her reticule; she would save it for later when the children were in bed and she could read her mother's words again and again.
Grasping Joss's hand, Eloise turned in the direction of Nile Street. There were more pressing matters on her mind now, and the most important of all was to find another lodging and soon. She would have had to leave anyway, even if Queenie had not said they must. The thought of being discovered by the Cribbs was even more frightening than the threat of being homeless. Eloise hugged Beth, who had grown tired of being carried and wanted to be put down on the ground. 'Mama will get you some milk in a moment, precious.'
'Me too,' Joss clamoured, tugging at her hand.
Eloise gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. 'There's a costermonger's barrow a little further down the street. Mama will buy you a nice juicy orange.' She hurried towards the barrow and was in the process of buying two oranges and a pound of apples when she heard someone speak her name. Momentarily paralysed with fear, Eloise could not move, but as the man repeated her name she realised that it was not Harcourt's voice. She turned her head and was surprised to see the Reverend Martin Collins hurrying towards them, holding his hat on his head as a sudden gust of wind threatened to whirl it up with the rest of the straw and bits of paper that were flying about in the air. 'Mrs Cribb, wait.'
She breathed a sigh of relief. 'This is a coincidence, Mr Collins.'
'Not at all, ma'am. I was on my way to call on you.'
'Really?'
'Although it grieves me to see a young woman like yourself having to go out into the world to earn her own living, I realised on reflection that you were unhappy at the prospect of returning to your in-laws in Yorkshire, and I felt I owed it to your father to come to your aid.'
'You can help me?'
'It's just possible, Mrs Cribb. After you had gone, I remembered a gentleman who used to be a parishioner of mine before I moved to King's Square. He is a respectable man who was once a warder at the House of Detention. He has an invalid wife, and due to his own advancing years he is finding it increasingly hard to cope with just a cook-general. Mr Hubble has been looking for a suitable person to assist in the daily running of their household for some time, and I took the liberty of mentioning your name. The long and the short of it is that I've just come from his house in Clerkenwell Green, and he would very much like to meet you.'
Eloise could hardly believe her ears. 'He wants to see me? When?'
'Now, if it's convenient. I could take you there this minute, if you are agreeable.'
Eloise nodded her head vigorously. This could be the answer to all their problems. 'I would be happy to go now, Mr Collins. Most happy.'
Joss tugged at her hand, pointing to the fruit. 'Mama.'
Beth began to whimper and Eloise was about to ask Mr Collins to wait while she peeled an orange for them when he forestalled her. 'I think your little ones are hungry, ma'am. May I suggest that we find a coffee stall and purchase some hot milk for them and a slice of cake? I believe I could manage a cup of coffee myself, and perhaps I could tempt you?'
For the first time since they had met, Eloise saw a glimmer of humanity in the vicar's grey eyes and she nodded in agreement. 'You're very thoughtful, sir.'
He inclined his head, as if to agree. 'It is quite a long walk to Clerkenwell Green for the little fellow, so we'll stop on the way. Follow me, ma'am.'
They set off, stopping briefly on the way for refreshments at a coffee stall, and having drunk hot milk and shared a slice of cake with Beth Joss was content to trot along at his mother's side, while Beth fell asleep on her shoulder. When they arrived in Clerkenwell Green, Eloise was pleasantly surprised by the village atmosphere. The green was surrounded by late eighteenth century houses, still elegant but slightly faded like a group of ageing courtesans. The tall spire of St James's church rose above the treetops and there was a market in progress. The smell of boiling hops wafted from Reid's Brewery, mingling with the fragrance of freshly baked bread from the bakery. Stall holders shouted their wares and crowds of shoppers thronged the market place, which was bathed with sunshine. There was a fairground atmosphere, even though the House of Detention loomed above the buildings at the end of St James's Walk, and the House of Correction was a couple of streets away, a fact that Martin Collins was only too pleased to pass on. Eloise was not sure she wanted to hear about this as her spirits had risen considerably in this pleasant, almost festive atmosphere.
'This is the house,' Mr Collins said, stopping outside a four-storey townhouse squashed between a watchmaker's premises and a bank. Without waiting to see Eloise's reaction to his pronouncement he rapped on the front door.
They were admitted by a slatternly-looking woman with a suspicious yellow stain beneath her nose suggestive of an addiction to snuff. She muttered something unintelligible and motioned the vicar towards a narrow staircase, before hobbling off down a long and dark corridor.
'The parlour is on the first floor,' Mr Collins explained as he mounted the staircase. 'Mrs Hubble is unable to climb stairs and her room is on the ground floor at the back of the house. Follow me, Mrs Cribb, and do watch your step. I'm afraid the carpet is a little threadbare in patches.'
Eloise wrinkled her nose at the smell of must and general decay which seemed to seep out of the plasterwork on the walls. The house had a dilapidated, almost derelict feeling to it, quite at odds with its elegant façade. She urged Joss on with an encouraging smile, although the dark stairway sent shivers down her spine. Mr Collins was well ahead of her and he disappeared round a bend in the stairs. She heard the click of a door being opened on the first landing. Hurrying after him, she caught up as he entered a room at the front of the house. Daylight filtered in through three tall, but decidedly grimy windows and the drawing room overlooked the green, but although the view was pleasant the interior of the room was shabby and decidedly gloomy. The crazed plaster on the ceiling was flaking off and falling occasionally with soft plops on the bare floorboards. Ashes spilled from the grate onto the hearth and there was a chill in the room even though it was warm outside. The walls, which badly needed a coat of paint, were unrelieved by paintings or even a framed print, and the curtains which hung limply at the windows were riddled with moth holes. The furniture was an eclectic jumble of items which looked as though they had been picked up in salerooms, or rescued from dust heaps. Seated in a wingback chai
r by the fireplace, an elderly gentleman with white hair and a florid complexion sat with one heavily bandaged foot resting on a stool. 'So you've come back, vicar. Didn't think you would.'
'I'm a man of my word, Ephraim,' Mr Collins said piously. 'May I introduce Mrs Eloise Cribb, the young widow of whom we spoke earlier?'
'Yes, yes, you have done so, but there's no need to shout. I may suffer from gout but I'm neither deaf nor senile.'
Mr Collins turned to Eloise with a vague smile. 'Mr Hubble has a wonderful sense of humour. I'm sure you two will get along splendidly.'
'I haven't said I'd take her on yet, Collins,' Ephraim snapped, leaning forward to stare at Eloise with piercing green eyes. 'Come here, girl. Let me look at you. And put the baby down on a chair or something. Collins, you take the boy and keep him quiet while I talk to his mother.'
Mr Collins blinked but he did as he was told and went to sit on a rickety chair, holding out his hand and offering to peel an orange for Joss, who toddled over to him trustingly with a piece of fruit clutched in his small hands.
Eloise had disliked Ephraim Hubble on sight, but she was desperate for work and a place to stay and she could not afford to offend a prospective employer. Reluctantly, she moved closer to the old man. 'How do you do, Mr Hubble?'
'Oh, it's a lady, is it? You didn't tell me that, Collins.'
'I told you that Mrs Cribb's father was my predecessor, Ephraim. Have you forgotten already?'
'I haven't forgotten, you psalm-singing pedant. Nor have I forgotten that you said her father was as poor as a church mouse and had gone off on some tomfool mission to Africa, where he'll probably end up in a stew pot like some of his forerunners.'
'Really, Ephraim, I don't think you ought to talk in that manner,' Mr Collins said, frowning.
'I'll speak as I please in my own house.' Ephraim turned to Eloise, giving her a searching look. 'Now, lady, tell me why you need to take on work as a skivvy? Haven't you got any rich relations you could impose on?'
'I'm a widow, sir. My in-laws live in the north and I do not choose to impose on them, as you put it.'
'Huh! I see you have a bit of spirit in spite of being a parson's daughter. Can't stand mealy-mouthed, prim and proper misses. But you don't look strong enough to do housework.'
'Housework? I thought you wanted a housekeeper.'
Ephraim uttered a mirthless cackle of laughter. 'Call it what you will. I want someone to wash and clean my old woman and feed her when she's hungry, which ain't too often these days.'
'It sounds as though you need a trained nurse, sir.'
'I ain't paying for a nurse. Waste of money. The old girl's not for this world much longer, or so I hope. I should be handing her over to one of Mr Collins's colleagues soon enough and they can bury her and send her nagging soul to heaven or hell. I don't really care where she ends up. But if you're too grand for the job, lady, just speak out now. Don't waste my time.'
Eloise glanced at Joss who was happily sucking a segment of orange, and at Beth, who lay rosy-cheeked and sleeping on the horsehair sofa, and she knew she had no choice. 'Very well, I'll do it, as long as you allow me to keep my children with me.'
'They can stay as long as I don't see or hear them. Keep them out of my way while you scrub and clean the floors and you'll not find me a hard taskmaster.'
'Scrubbing and cleaning?' Eloise bit her lip. 'I thought you wanted someone to nurse your wife?'
'That don't take all day. You'll have plenty of time for keeping house when you've poured a bit of laudanum down her throat. She sleeps most of the time as it is. What's the matter, lady? Are you too high and mighty to roll up your sleeves and do a bit of cleaning?'
Mr Collins set Joss on the floor. 'Really, Ephraim, this is most improper talk.'
'If you don't like it, you can leave, vicar. And you can take her with you if she's not of a mind to help out an elderly gent in distress.' Ephraim leaned towards Eloise with his eyes glinting malevolently. 'Forty pounds a year, and free board and lodging. How does that sound, my lady?'
It's only temporary, Eloise told herself. Just until I can find something better. She nodded her head. 'I'll do it.'
'But, Mrs Cribb, are you sure . . .' Mr Collins began, clearing his throat nervously. 'I mean, I truly didn't know that there would be so much expected of you.'
'Ain't you up to it, lady?' Ephraim demanded, obviously enjoying the spectacle of their discomfort. 'Say now, if you ain't.'
Chapter Nine
'I can do it,' Eloise said firmly. Although she was far from certain that this was actually true, she was now desperate. All her instincts were telling her neither to trust nor like Mr Hubble, but if she accepted his offer it would provide a roof over their heads for the time being, and the Cribbs would never think to look for her here. She was not afraid of hard work; she would scrub floors and clean privies if it enabled her to provide for her children. 'When can I start?'
'Mrs Cribb,' Mr Collins said, rising to his feet. 'Perhaps you ought to take time to consider Mr Hubble's offer?'
'Be silent, Reverend,' Ephraim snapped. 'Let the girl make up her own mind.'
Eloise stooped to pick up Beth, and she took Joss by the hand. 'My mind is made up, sir. I will need to collect my belongings from Mrs King's lodging house, but I am free to begin today if you want me to.'
Ephraim let out a low chuckle, which sounded suspiciously like a growl. 'I want you to, young lady. You'll brighten up the old place a treat; just keep them nippers out of my sight. I can't abide children.'
'Is this wise?' Mr Collins asked, keeping his voice low. 'I mean, perhaps you ought to stay on in Nile Street until something more suitable turns up.'
'I came here at your suggestion, vicar.'
'Yes, I know that, and it is for that reason that I would ask you to think again. I might have misjudged the situation.' Mr Collins glanced anxiously over his shoulder at the hunched figure crouching in the chair.
'Stop muttering, vicar,' Ephraim shouted, pointing his walking stick at him. 'If you've something to say, speak up or hold your tongue.'
'I was just offering to assist Mrs Cribb with her luggage, Ephraim.'
'You're a liar, sir, and you a man of the cloth! Shame on you.' Ephraim threw back his head and roared with laughter. Taking a leather purse from his pocket, he took out a coin and held it up between his thumb and forefinger. 'Here, lady. This will pay for a cab from your lodging house. Never let it be said that Ephraim Hubble is a mean man.' He tossed the coin to Mr Collins who caught it deftly in one hand. 'Your job is done, vicar. You'll not see me again until I attend me old lady's funeral. Then the one who'll be singing the loudest will be me.'
Ephraim's coarse laughter followed them as Eloise hurried down the stairs followed by Mr Collins. He caught her by the arm as they went outside into the street. 'Mrs Cribb, I am not sure . . .'
She gave him a reassuring smile. 'Please don't worry about me, Mr Collins. I am sure I will be well suited here.'
'I hope so, ma'am. I feel a certain amount of responsibility, having introduced you to Mr Hubble.'
'I am sure you don't need to worry, and I am very grateful to you for going to so much trouble on my account. I mustn't keep you any longer from your parish duties.' Eloise turned and started to walk away but he caught up with her.
'I will walk part of the way with you, Mrs Cribb.'
They parted in the City Road and Eloise hurried on to Nile Street. She had hoped to slip away without being noticed, but in the end she had to enlist Annie's help in carrying the luggage out of the house. Annie scuttled off to hail a cab.
'Found one at the end of the street,' Annie gasped breathlessly, having run all the way back to where Eloise waited on the pavement with Joss and Beth. 'He's just turning the thing round, which ain't easy with all the traffic these days.' Annie clasped her hands to her chest. 'Cor blimey, that's took it out of me. I ain't as sprightly as I was when I was younger.'
Eloise laughed in spite of everything. 'You mean wh
en you were eight or nine?'
'It's all due to her wearing me out with hard work. Won't you take me with you, missis? I could help with the nippers.'
'I would if I could, believe me, but I'm afraid it's impossible. I'm not even sure how I'll get on in Clerkenwell Green.'
'I'll come and visit you there on me afternoon off then. I get one every month or so if she's in a good mood.'
Eloise bit her lip. She had not meant to tell anyone where she was going. The cab was rumbling towards them and she had to raise her voice to make herself heard above the clatter of the horse's hooves. 'You won't tell anyone where I've gone, will you, Annie?'
Annie's eyes widened with curiosity. 'Why not?'
'There might be someone enquiring after me and the children. I don't want them to find me. Do you understand?'
Annie nodded emphatically. 'I can keep a secret, but I can come, can't I?'
'Of course you can, dear. Look for the house with the blue door facing the green. You can't miss it.'
'I will,' Annie promised, hefting the two pieces of luggage into the cab. 'And I won't tell no one nothing. Cross me heart and hope to die.'
The cabby set them down outside the house in Clerkenwell Green. Eloise knocked on the door with a feeling of trepidation. Once again she was plunging herself and her children into the unknown. She dared not think too far ahead. Day to day life had whittled down to the bare necessities of having enough food to eat and a bed to sleep in at night. She waited nervously for the sound of approaching footsteps. She knocked again and this time was rewarded by a faint shuffling sound. The door opened and the elderly woman with the snuff-stained face glared at her. 'What d'you want?'