by Betty Annand
When she saw a constable coming toward her, her fear rendered her immobile, which was probably a good thing, or she might have run away and been mistaken for a thief. “I say, are you all right? Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked in a very kind and concerned voice.
Gladys sighed with relief then told him that she had never been to London before, was on her way to visit a relative, and didn’t know where to find a cabriolet or an omnibus. By her attire, he was certain she would choose to hire a hackney, but felt obliged to mention that to hire a two passenger hackney or cabriolet would be twice as costly as taking an omnibus, since the omnibuses were much larger and carried up to fifteen passengers. Then he warned her that during the day, more people were allowed aboard the vehicle than there was room for, and incidents of pickpocketing were frequent.
Gladys said she didn’t have far to go and would take the least expensive conveyance. Then she asked him where she could find an omnibus that went to Laurel Street. The constable offered to walk with her to the station, which was just around the corner from where they were standing. He repeated his warning about the thieves as they were walking, and she assured him she would be extremely careful.
His concern never lessened, so he stayed with her until she got on board, and, with a puzzled expression, watched as the omnibus pulled away from the station. He couldn’t understand how someone so obviously well off would choose to travel on such a common conveyance if she could afford to ride in comfort and safety in a cabriolet.
After Gladys thanked the constable and boarded the omnibus, she was delighted to find that it had an open top deck. For a few blocks she had a seat to herself, but then someone sat down beside her and said, “’Opes you don’t mind if I sits ’ere, yer ladyship?” At first glance, Gladys took him for a young boy, but then saw that he was a man with a very slight build. It didn’t take her long to take in his attire and decide that he was a slum dweller. Instead of being repulsed by him, she experienced a feeling of compassion and surprised him with a smile and a nod of her head.
The fellow, who went by the name of “Slick,” a name well suited, was one of the most talented pickpockets in all of London. He had barely sat down before the money Gladys had brought along to buy a gift for Millie had gone from her purse into his pocket. Luckily, the envelopes Laura had given her were safely hidden in the lining of her cape. Normally, Slick would have pocketed the money and made a quick getaway, but there was something about this beautiful lady that fascinated him.
He had never seen a woman so elegant on an omnibus before, and it was the first time someone of her rank had ever smiled at him. All of the high-society ladies he came near to screwed up their noses in disgust and moved quickly away, which made his job that much easier. But this pretty lady was different. She seemed so nice that he decided to ride with her, thinking it would be fun to pretend they were friends.
When he found out that she was a visitor to London and had never ridden on an omnibus before, he began pointing out places of interest.
“There’s Gumby’s ’aberdashery. ’E’s that little far—er, feller—settin’ on that water bucket outside ’is shop. ’E come ’ere from Haustralya, ’e did,” Slick said, pointing to a swarthy complexioned man who looked to be no more than three feet tall. “An’ there’s Fa Ling’s rest raunt. ’E’s a right good Chink, ’e is. Gives ’is leftovers to the poor instead of sellin’ ’em to tha piggeries.”
The six-horse team pulling the omnibus wound its way through some very narrow and busy streets, and Slick noticed how Gladys’s face lit up with excitement as they passed the multitude of vendors, hawkers, and bargain hunters. She loved the kaleidoscope of colours among the fusion of different races, many clad in their tribal outfits. The lively symphony orchestrated by their raucous banter seemed to be in perfect harmony with the beat of the horse’s hooves clattering on the cobblestones.
Slick suddenly became aware that it was now Gladys who was pointing things out to him, and he felt as though he had never really seen London before, even though he had lived there all his life. Then when she laughed and pointed toward a little girl who was stealing some apples from the back of a wagon while her friends kept the vendor’s attention, he suddenly remembered his daughter’s birthday. “I ’as to go now, miss. You sees it’s me Hanna’s birthday! She be six.”
Gladys found that she’d be sorry to see him leave and made a quick decision, saying, “I was going to buy a dear friend of mine a present, but I’m sure she would much rather I give you the money so you can buy something nice for your Hanna.” As she went to open her purse, he grabbed it out of her hands.
“’Ere, miss! You don’t oughter ’ave yer purse ’angin’ on a cord like that. A thief could take ’is knife an’ cut it, an’ you’d never know it were gone ’til ’e was miles away.” In a split second he managed to replace the money he had stolen without being seen—so he thought. Although Gladys was unaware that he had taken her money, she saw him return it. He used the same technique that some of her friends had used in Old Nichol, and instead of feeling angry, she felt a sense of kinship toward him. Although he tried to refuse it, she insisted he take half of the money she had for Millie’s present.
“Much obliged, miss. Yer an angel, right enough.” Then he gave her a saucy wink and disappeared so quickly, she wondered if he was ever there.
The ride didn’t seem as exhilarating without the pickpocket’s company, and as twilight descended and the streets became vacant, a melancholic mood overtook her. She was relieved when the omnibus came to a stop outside her hotel. Once she registered, a pleasant woman saw her settled into a drab, but clean, room, then brought her a very welcome meat sandwich along with a hot mug of tea.
After a peaceful night, Gladys had washed, dressed, and was sitting in the dining room having breakfast when an unkempt, but smiling, young man approached her. Saying his name was Sandy, he explained he had come to take her to meet the girls. When he saw she hadn’t finished her tea, he politely offered to wait for her outside. As soon as she exited the hotel, Gladys looked around for her carriage, but the only vehicle on the street was a dilapidated, open wagon with nothing but a bench seat at the front. There was a man wearing a large, ragged straw hat sitting on the seat whom Gladys didn’t recognize until he turned around and called out, “Up here, miss; up here.”
Although she was shocked when she saw it was Sandy, she was even more shocked when she saw the worn-out condition of the animal that was hitched to his wagon. She couldn’t help but chuckle as she thought that the straw hat was on the wrong head.
Sandy, aware of the inappropriateness of his rig for such an eloquent passenger, apologized as he helped her up onto the seat, and, pointing to his elderly, sway-backed horse, he said, “Sorry, miss, she aren’t no German bay, but old Nellie’s reliable and will get us safely there and back in good time—if it don’t rain. Nellie’s old legs aren’t too steady on wet cobblestones. If it does rain, miss, you’ll find a piece of canvas under your seat to put over your head. It’ll keep you nice and dry.”
They had gone about a mile when Gladys cried out, “Stop!” causing the old nag to bolt and Sandy to jump so high in the air that he almost fell off the wagon.
After he calmed the animal, he asked, “What is it, miss, did you get stung by a wasp?”
Gladys’s face turned ashen. She has gotten a whiff of an odour that was far too familiar. Her voice shook as she asked, “Where on earth are you taking me?”
“Why, to pick up the girls, miss.”
Fearful that the girls they were picking up were from Old Nichol, she jumped up, grabbed hold of Sandy by the shoulders, and demanded, “I want to know where the girls are coming from!” When he didn’t answer immediately, she began shaking him while insisting, “You must tell me—right now! For God’s sake, boy, tell me.”
Sandy, afraid the lady had become unbalanced and at any moment might decide to jump
off the wagon and hurt herself, decided that the only thing to do was to throw his arms around her and hold her tight until she regained her senses. Gladys, on the other hand, was beyond thinking straight and treated his actions as an attack. She began pummelling him with a series of wild blows, forcing him to take his arms from around her waist and hold them in front of his face for protection. That’s when the oncoming blows knocked him off his feet and into the back of the wagon.
The noise from Sandy’s fall startled Old Nellie. Her front feet went up in the air and she came down running, sending Gladys flying backward where she landed on top of poor Sandy, knocking the wind out of him. With no one at the reins to hold her back, Nellie went careening and zigzagging down the road with Gladys and Sandy rolling over each other as they were tossed from side to side. After running over a curb, through a number of flower beds, and knocking over a little picket fence, Nellie finally brought the wagon to a stop amid a lush garden of vegetables.
The old horse had helped herself to a generous helping of carrots by the time Gladys and Sandy managed to untangle themselves and get back up on the wagon seat.
“What a spectacle we must have made of ourselves,” Gladys exclaimed, as she attempted to brush the dust from her clothes.
“When you landed on top of me, I thought it was a load of bricks,” Sandy replied. Then, realizing what he had said, he was about to apologize when Gladys began to laugh. Relieved, he joined in.
“It’s lucky the gardener is nowhere about,” Sandy said, after their laughter had subsided. “We’d better get this old girl back on the road before we’re found out.”
When they were back on the street and out of sight of the ruined garden, Gladys collected her thoughts. On examining Millie’s cape, she was dismayed to find two small dark spots and tried to brush them away, but couldn’t. She prayed they would come off with a damp cloth when she got home. Amazingly, her bonnet had managed to remain on her head and didn’t seem to be damaged.
She stopped worrying about her attire when she suddenly realized that the smell was even fouler than it had been before the accident. Her fear of returning to her old neighbourhood returned. She didn’t want to cause another accident, but she knew she would have to do something, and do it quickly, or it would be too late.
Taking hold of Sandy’s arm, she suppressed a feeling of panic and calmly asked him to stop the wagon. Then she put forth the same question.
“Well, miss, the girls are from a terrible poor place near here that they calls ‘Old Nichol,’ but you needn’t worry, we don’t have to go in there. They’ll bring the girls out to a place they calls ‘Warehouse Corner.’ I wouldn’t take a young lady such as yerself into Old Nichol for all the taters in Ireland. No, siree.”
Sandy’s answer was tantamount to receiving a death warrant, and Gladys was tempted to ask if she could get off the wagon and wait while he went alone to pick up the girls, but she had a duty to perform and couldn’t deny it. Mustering up all her courage and praying that there would be no one she knew at Warehouse Corner, she ordered him to continue on.
It wasn’t only the sickening stench that told her they were getting close to Old Nichol, she remembered the street they were on, the same street down which she and her da had pushed their cart. A longing to see Toughie seeped into her thoughts, but her mixed emotions of repulsion and fear were stronger. Even though she wanted to see him again, she knew she daren’t take the risk. They were a half block from Warehouse Corner when Sandy pulled the wagon to a stop. Five minutes later, Gladys spotted a man leading an old horse with two girls on its back approaching the corner.
She almost cried out when she saw that the horse was Knickers. Then, to make matters worse, she noticed that the man leading the horse was Rod, one of the O’Brian boys. She was paralyzed with the fear of being recognized. Sandy startled her out of her daze when he shook her arm, and said, “Miss, miss, did you hear me? I said there’s someone there now with the girls.” He pulled the wagon a little closer.
Rod hadn’t been a boy for some time. He was twenty-two and the father of three. Tall, with even features, he would have been a handsome man if there was more substance between his bones and his skin. Gladys, numb with fear, could do nothing but sit and watch as he helped the girls down from the horse’s back and brought them towards her. As he came closer, she could see there were white streaks down both of his grimy cheeks, making his sorrow obvious. When he reached the wagon, one of the girls hid behind him, and he had to reach around to pull her into view.
“I’m Rod O’Brian, ma’am, and this ’ere’s my little sister, Ellie. She’s only just twelve, but she’s a hard worker an’ a good girl, so I hopes you’ll be kind to ’er.” When he received no answer, he pointed to the other girl, who appeared more curious than shy, and said, “An’ this here’s Pinky Davis. She’s a year older, an’ I think she’s a good girl too.”
Relieved that Rod had shown no sign of recognition, Gladys allowed him to help her down from the wagon. As she gave the girls a quick inspection, she noticed Ellie’s puffy, red eyes, and her heart ached with sympathy. Both girls smelled a little of kerosene, so she knew they had been deloused and scrubbed as clean as Mrs O could manage. She had also scrubbed their threadbare garments, removing most of the grease stains along with the unpleasant odours that just might have caused the driver of the coach in Victoria Station to refuse their passage.
Both girls were very thin and much in need of food and warmer apparel, but it didn’t take long to satisfy Gladys that they were fairly bright, since they answered the questions she put to them with a passable amount of sensibility. Gladys found it difficult to ignore Ellie’s pleading glances, knowing the girl was hoping for a reprieve that would allow her to return home with her brother. She also knew that Mr O would not have sent her without a very good reason.
When she finished with the girls, she directed her questions to Rod, hoping to find out as much as she could about his parents without giving away her identity. “May I ask if you have permission to leave these girls with me?”
“Yes, miss, I do. You see, Pinky’s ma died last year an’ her pa don’t want her, so he gave her to Ma an’ Da. Then Da went and broke his leg an’ can’t git ’round good no more. I’m doin’ good as I can, but it just ain’t enough, so Pa thought Ellie an’ Pinky would be better off where you’re takin’ ’em. They will, won’t they?”
“Yes, I think they will. And is your mother not well?”
Ron looked surprised then puzzled, not understanding why this proper lady would bother to ask about someone she didn’t even know. “I guess she’s not sick, but she can’t have babies no longer an’ that makes her awful sad. She was too broke up to come an’ watch Ellie go, so I had to do it.”
“I can understand how she would feel. I wonder if you would tell your parents something for me?”
“Yes, miss.”
“I want you to tell them that I will be living in the same building as Ellie and Pinky and will watch over them until they are better acquainted with their new surroundings.”
“Thank you, miss, I know that’ll make ’em feel a whole lot better.”
Gladys tried her best to think of a way to let Mr O know that it was she who would be watching over his daughter, and then she remembered the coin he had given her. Luckily, she always kept it with her. Deciding to allow the two siblings a little more time together before saying goodbye, and wanting to think of a way to get the coin to Mr O, Gladys nodded toward Knickers and said, “You know, I once had a horse that same colour. Do you mind if I walk over and pet him for a minute?”
Rod wanted to get away before he changed his mind and refused to let his sister go, although he knew it was the only way to save the rest of his family from starvation. One more person to feed wouldn’t inconvenience a middle class family, but for those living in the slums it could be a death sentence. He couldn’t understand why such a proper young la
dy would want to pet an old horse like Knickers, but he didn’t dare refuse.
At first the horse ignored her, but when Gladys put her hand on his forehead and talked to him, he rubbed his muzzle against her shoulder. Gladys didn’t have the heart to push his head away, and hoping Millie wouldn’t mind a few horse hairs on her cape, she laid her face alongside his neck. “How are you, old friend?” she asked, and then noticing the dried mud all over his coat, she added, “Oh, Knickers, I am so sorry; it looks like no one brushes you anymore.”
She gave him a goodbye kiss on his muzzle and turned to leave when someone said, “Hoy! Wot cha think yer doin’ parkin’ that ’orse in my spot, heh?”
The voice was so familiar, Gladys almost fainted. Slowly she turned to see who had spoken. Relieved, and yet oddly disappointed, she realized the man was nothing like her father, who was much taller and half as old. Then he removed his dirty wool cap, exposing a full head of grey and black, roughly cropped, curly hair that she couldn’t help but recognize. As he came closer, he squinted up at her.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, miss, but I thought you was O’Brian. Me eyes ain’t what they used ta be.” Then putting his face right up to Gladys’s, he added, “Yer a fine lookin’ lady, you are. We ’ad a girl what was almost as purty as yerself. That were our Gladdy, that were. We lost ’er aways back an’ we still misses ’er, we do.”
Realizing that the man was indeed her pa, Gladys suffered a diversity of agonizing and moving emotions: fear, sadness, pity, and most of all, love. In fact, it was all she could do not to throw her arms around him and kiss his wrinkled cheeks in spite of his foul body odour. Being unable to reveal her identity was such torment that she was unable to stifle a low and grievous moan.
Tonnie, afraid he had upset the lady and she might call for help, quickly backed away while offering an apology, “I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Gladys, tears welling up in her eyes, was unable to answer. She quickly took the rest of the money she had for Millie’s gift and a little of the amount Laura had given her for food, and handed it to him, but in her haste, she released the coins before he had them in his grasp, and they fell to the ground.