by Dilly Court
At first, Eloise was anxious about leaving Joss and Beth in the care of someone as young as Cora, but there were many such children amongst the families who worked the dust heaps, and none of them seemed to come to any harm. They played together in the dirt outside the cottages and soon Joss and Beth were as grubby as the rest of those who were too young to be put to work. The elder children looked after the little ones, but this was small comfort to Eloise when she heard their shrieks and shouts as they played and she worked. It was almost impossible to tell whether the screams were of excitement or agony, and she had to steel herself to keep on sieving even though her maternal instincts urged her to rush outside the yard to make sure her children were unharmed.
At the end of the first week, Eloise queued up with the rest of the workers to receive her wages. It was the first time in her life that she had earned any money and she pocketed the six shillings with a feeling of pride and achievement. That evening she was able to give Gertie Tranter money to pay for their food and lodging, and the remainder she put in her purse. Grateful as she was to the Tranters, Eloise was determined to move away as soon as possible. This was not the sort of life she had envisaged for herself or her children, and the tiny cottage was already crammed to capacity without adding three extra persons, even if two of them were very small. Not that they were in the house very much, except to eat and sleep. As the summer progressed, the warm evenings found the inhabitants of Magpie Alley sitting on their doorsteps, neighbour chatting to neighbour, while the children played in the street. The men mostly took themselves off to the local pub, coming home late at night having washed the grit from their throats with several pints of beer. Although Peg denied tender feelings for Mick Fowler, and she spent most of her time arguing with him, she did not often refuse him when he lumbered into the cottage and asked her to go for a walk, or offered to take her to some form of public entertainment. Peg loved the theatre and music halls. Her favourite outing was to visit the Pavilion or the City of London Theatre and watch a melodrama from the dizzy heights of the gallery. On these evenings she was always in a good mood with Mick and when he walked her home there was a good deal of scuffling and giggling as they said goodbye outside the front door.
After living with the Tranters for some time, Eloise had discovered that what Peg said about Mick was true. He had a ferocious temper, when roused, but in general his loud voice, fierce manner and bad language were just a cover to hide his good nature from those who might take advantage of him. In contrast to his great height and bulk, Peg was tiny, but she had him well and truly under her thumb. One quelling look from her, or a sharp rebuke, would turn poor Mick into a quivering wreck, but he was still her devoted slave. Eloise marvelled at their relationship and sometimes she was even a little envious. Now that the initial horror of Ephraim's assault on her had faded along with the bruises, Eloise experienced a vague longing and a sense of loneliness, even though she was surrounded by people. It was not for Ronnie that she yearned, and that also disturbed her. Their few short years together were now fading to a precious memory, stored like a wedding gown wrapped in tissue paper and locked away in a wooden chest. Sometimes she even had difficulty in visualising his face and it seemed as though he was gradually dissolving into the misty past. But she was still young, she told herself, not yet twenty-four, and although she felt she ought to be ashamed to have what Papa had called carnal thoughts, she missed the tender loving relationship that exists between a man and a woman. She could not imagine giving herself willingly to another man, and yet . . . Her life seemed to stretch ahead of her in a long and lonely path.
On a particularly hot evening in July, when Joss and Beth were snuggled up asleep with Cora and Daisy in the back room, Eloise was alone in the kitchen, sitting at the table and attempting to write to her mother, but her mind kept wandering from the subject. Outside she could hear the older children playing and the sound of the women's voices as they sat in the evening sunshine, chatting about the events of the day. Eloise stared at the few lines that she had written and frowned. It was so difficult to think of anything positive to tell Mama, especially when she had not received any correspondence for several weeks. For fear of being spotted by Pike, Eloise had not dared to venture into the part of town where the Missionary Society had their offices to collect her mail. She could only hope that by now he would have reported back to Cribb's Hall, informing Hilda that his quarry had disappeared without trace, and that he had given up his search. Eloise stroked her cheek with the feathery tip of the quill pen and decided that the time had come to be brave. After all, she could not hide forever and she was desperate for news of her parents. Tomorrow she would venture into town.
She folded the unfinished letter and put it back inside her writing case. Then she took out a fresh sheet and penned a note to Annie, telling her that she would be in the gardens at the Foundling Hospital on the following Sunday afternoon, and suggesting that they might meet. With a new sense of purpose, Eloise put the letter in an envelope and sealed it. She could not and would not hide away any longer. She must take charge of her own life.
Next day, Eloise put on her only clean change of clothing and she set off for the post office and Missionary Society office with a spring in her step. To her great delight there were two letters from her mother, and she could hardly wait to tear open the envelopes and devour their contents. Tucking them safely in her reticule, she set off along Gray's Inn Road, walking briskly until she came to the gardens of the Foundling Hospital. At this time of day they were quite deserted, and she sat down in the shade of a plane tree and tore open the first envelope with trembling fingers. It was not a very long letter and some of the news was disturbing. The missionary post was in a village deep in the bush, and a long way from what her parents considered to be civilisation. Their home was little more than a windowless mud hut with a dirt floor and a thatched roof. It was set in a compound surrounded by a hedge of tall, thick-stemmed grasses to keep out the wild beasts, but that had not prevented a spitting cobra from nesting in the roof of the privy and a green python inhabited the flame tree which grew just outside the hut. It was little better inside, according to Mama's account of the frightening, but harmless, praying mantis which climbed up the walls at night to catch flies and insects, or the huge hunting spiders that lurked in the corners ready to scuttle out to eat a cockroach or even a small rodent. Mama said that no matter how hot it was, she and Janet never took off their high button boots until they climbed into their camp beds at night to huddle beneath mosquito nets. Their water was carried from the river daily and every drop had to be boiled before use. They were living mainly off dried and tinned food prepared by their Kikuyu cook, and a few fresh vegetables they had managed to grow in the small kitchen garden. Papa was in his element, she wrote, and he felt that at last he was fulfilling his vocation, although he was often laid extremely low by bouts of malaria and had to take to his bed. Janet was not happy living in what she termed 'this godforsaken place', but although she grumbled she was a tower of strength and Mama repeated several times that she would have been lost without her.
The second letter went on in much the same vein, and Eloise was left feeling rather disturbed. Papa might be in his element, but reading between the lines she sensed that the reality of the African bush was harder for women to bear than for men. She read and reread the two letters, biting back tears of worry and frustration. Of course Papa was a good man, but their lives would have been so much more comfortable if he had not had such high ideals. She was just putting the letters back in their envelopes when the sound of small footsteps on the gravel caused her to look up. A little girl in a white muslin dress was skipping towards her, rolling a large hoop along the ground with the aid of a short stick. It hit a stone and careered off the path to land at Eloise's feet. She leaned over to retrieve it and handed it back to its small owner.
'Thank you, but you shouldn't be in the gardens. The public are only allowed in on Sundays.' The child's voice and manner were so g
rown up that Eloise had to hide a smile.
'I'm sorry,' she said, getting to her feet and brushing bits of grass off her skirt. 'I didn't know.'
'Well, you do now.'
'Maria!'
At the sound of a man's deep voice, the little girl turned with a guilty start. 'Yes, Papa.'
The man, whom Eloise recognised instantly as Barton Caine, the governor of the Foundling Hospital, came striding along the pathway towards them. 'You are not supposed to be out here, Maria. Miss Trinder has been looking everywhere for you.' He seemed to realise then that his daughter was not alone and he stared at Eloise with raised eyebrows. 'And who might you be, ma'am?'
From the tone of his voice he might have been speaking to a servant. Eloise was suddenly conscious of her shabby attire and the shadows of grime that no amount of carbolic soap would quite wash away from her face and hands. She must look like a skivvy, but there was no need for him to take that tone. She drew herself up to her full height. 'I beg your pardon, sir. I was not aware that I was trespassing. I thought the gardens were open to the public' Without giving him a chance to reply, she marched off along the path towards the main road, holding her head high, but inside she was seething with anger and embarrassment.
She was still fuming when she arrived back in Magpie Alley, but her anger was replaced by alarm when she saw people milling about in the lane. It was not dinnertime at the dust heap, and anyway most of the workers ate their bread and dripping in the yard. She knew instinctively that something was wrong and she ran towards Peg, who was speaking to Cora in an agitated manner and gesticulating wildly.
'What's the matter? What's happened?' Eloise demanded breathlessly.
'It's young Joss,' Peg said, biting her lip. 'He's gone missing, Ellie. Some of the men are out searching for him, but he's been gone a good hour. Cora said he was playing with young Jimmy Bragg one minute and gone the next.'
All Eloise's worst fears were suddenly realised and one word came into her head. 'Pike.'
Chapter Thirteen
Her heart missed several beats and Eloise swayed on her feet, overcome by a wave of dizziness. Peg took her by the elbows, giving her a shake. 'Don't you dare swoon, Ellie. That won't help to find young Joss. Anyway, Mick and the boys have gone looking for him and they know this area better than anyone.'
Gertie bustled up to them. 'Have a heart, Peg. We're not all as tough as you, me girl.' She took Eloise by the arm. 'Come inside, ducks. I'll make you a nice hot cup of tea.'
Frantic with worry, Eloise snatched her arm free. 'Tea! Is that all you can think about when my boy has been taken by that man?'
'You don't know that for certain,' Gertie said, frowning. 'He's probably just wandered off and got lost. The men will find him.'
Peg linked her hand through Eloise's other arm. 'Come on, Ellie. Ma's right. You wouldn't know where to start looking and you should stay here with Beth.'
Eloise nodded mutely. In her panic she had not given a thought to Beth, who was attempting to take her first shaky steps but was not yet toddling. She allowed herself to be led into the cottage where Beth was sitting on the floor watching the next door neighbour's youngest daughter playing with a cup and ball.
'Thank you, Flossie,' Gertie said, patting the child on the head. 'You can go home now, ducks.'
Flossie skipped off, still attempting to catch the small wooden ball in the crudely carved cup, and Eloise lifted Beth up in her arms to give her a cuddle. At least one of her children was safe, but as the minutes ticked by she became more and more convinced that Pike had somehow discovered their whereabouts and had abducted Joss. He might even now be on a train heading north to Yorkshire and Cribb's Hall. She sank down on a chair, holding on to Beth as though she would never let her go.
'That's better,' Gertie said, taking the bubbling kettle off the fire. 'We'll have a nice cup of tea and wait here for the men to get back.'
'I'm going out looking too,' Peg said. 'We'll find him, Ellie.' She disappeared out into the bright sunshine.
'What if Pike has got him?' Eloise whispered. 'I'll never get him back, Gertie.'
Busying herself making the tea, Gertie gave her a reassuring smile. 'You mustn't think like that, ducks. Your Mr Pike would have to be a clever fellow indeed to trace you here. I'm sure there's a simple explanation and you'll have him back in no time at all.'
'I'll never leave him again. If he comes home safe, I swear I'll keep him close to me forever.'
By mid-afternoon, Eloise was convinced that she would never see Joss again and close to despair. With Beth in her arms she paced up and down the lane outside the cottages, listening for the sound of the searchers returning as they did every half-hour or so to check that the child had not been found, before setting off again and widening their search area. Eloise was frantic. If Pike had not snatched Joss, any manner of accidents could have befallen him. He might have fallen into the canal and drowned. He could have been trampled by a carthorse or run over by a train. By teatime she was even more desperate, and every time someone entered the lane she ran outside demanding to know if they had any news of Joss.
One by one the searchers returned, shaking their heads apologetically.
'We've searched everywhere we can think of,' Mick said, taking off his battered bowler hat and scratching his head. 'I'm sorry, ducks, but there's no sign of the little fellow.'
Peg was at his side and she laid her hand on Eloise's arm. 'It's true, Ellie. We've looked everywhere.'
Eloise thrust Beth into Peg's arms. 'Take my baby. I'm going to look for Joss myself.'
Mick caught her by the hand. 'Don't, girl. You'll only get yourself lost into the bargain.'
'I will go. I can't just stay at home while my boy is out there all alone and frightened.' Eloise struggled to get free but Mick was much stronger than she and he held her in an iron grip, shaking his head.
'Listen to him, Ellie,' Peg urged.
'No,' Eloise screamed, kicking out with her feet. 'Let me go.'
'Hello, there.'
Eloise stopped struggling and turned her head to look at the man striding towards them from the far end of the terrace. In his arms he carried a bundle and her heart was in her throat as she recognised the curly blond head resting against his shoulder. 'Joss.' His name was wrenched from her lips in a cry of sheer joy as she raced towards the man and snatched her son from his arms. 'Joss, my baby.' Eloise clutched him to her breast, sobbing with relief. 'Oh, Joss, you're safe.'
Peg hurried over to her with Beth in her arms. 'Is he all right, Ellie?'
Joss opened his blue eyes and gave them a sleepy smile. 'Mama.'
Ellie buried her face in his curls, unable to speak, and Peg patted her on the shoulder. 'Bring him into the house. I'll bet he's hungry and thirsty.'
Eloise nodded her head and she flashed a watery smile at the man who had found Joss. 'It's Mr Tully, isn't it?'
He tipped his cap. 'Yes, ma'am.'
'Thank you,' Eloise breathed, unable to find the words to express her innermost feelings. Suddenly a heavy weight had lifted from her shoulders and she felt light-headed with relief. 'Thank you, so much.'
Mick held out his hand. 'Good work, mate. Where did you find him?'
'Curled up asleep on me bed. Must've been there all day and I never thought to check the back room until just now. My old lady had left the door open and the little chap must have wandered in.'
Mick slapped him on the shoulder. 'Well, Tully, thank God for that. We'd almost given him up for dead.'
Tully grinned sheepishly. 'He'd have been there until nightfall if I hadn't gone to look for me baccy pouch. But that's kids for you. Anyway, no harm done.'
Eloise could not quite agree with his last statement as she carried Joss into the cottage. No harm had come to Joss, but that was down to good luck. The truth was that someone as young as Cora could not be relied upon to keep an eye on even younger children. Every time Eloise left Joss and Beth to go to work in the dust yard she was exposing them to danger,
and it was only now that she realised just how much potential peril there was all around them. Then there was Pike, who might not have given up his search. Although she had tried to convince herself otherwise, Eloise suspected that Hilda had paid him generously for his services and would continue to do so until she had what she wanted. Hilda Cribb was not a woman to give up easily.
That night, as she lay on her palliasse in front of the fire, Eloise knew that their days here were numbered. It would soon be time to move on. Next day very early, before her shift at the dust yard was due to start, she walked to the station and bought a newspaper. She scanned the Situations Vacant columns but there was nothing remotely suitable. All the living-in domestic jobs required single women and she was not trained for any type of office work or even to teach. This left her with little choice other than serving in a shop or doing manual labour in a factory, neither of which would help her to care for Joss and Beth. Each day she spent some of her precious hoard of coins on a newspaper, but it was no use. There did not seem to be anything on offer which would suit her purpose, and it seemed that she would have to stay on at the Tranters' cottage and work in the dust yard for a very long time. But Joss's escapade had terrified her, and Eloise was no longer content to leave him and Beth with Cora.
The long, hot summer days were taking their toll on everyone in Magpie Alley and those who worked in the dust yard. The carters who brought in the loads of rubbish and night soil were even more grumpy and belligerent than before, and the stench of the heaps was overpowering. It was gruelling work at the best of times, but with the sun hot on her back, and her throat, nose and eyes permanently clogged with dust, Eloise was suffering miserably. Her hands, which had once been soft and white, were now calloused, and the dirt was so ingrained that no amount of soap and water seemed to wash it away.