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A Mother's Secret

Page 21

by Dilly Court


  Lottie folded her hands in front of her, casting her eyes down and refusing to look at Cassy. ‘Congratulations. I’m happy for you.’

  If Lottie had slapped her across the face, Cassy could not have been more shocked by her friend’s reaction to her news. ‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong, Lottie?’

  ‘You shouldn’t have brought her here,’ Lottie said in a low voice. ‘She’s a lady and she doesn’t belong in Whitechapel. Just look at the other one; you can tell what she thinks of us. How could you do this to my pa, Cassy? You’ve embarrassed him and me. I’ll never forgive you for this.’ Choking on a sob, Lottie pushed past her father and disappeared into the back of the shop.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cassy made to follow her, but Belinda caught her by the arm. ‘Let her go, Cassy. Give her time to get over the shock.’

  ‘Yes,’ Eli said, nodding. ‘This has come as a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. I must congratulate you on your daughter, my lady. Cassy is a good girl and she deserves to be happy.’

  Belinda encompassed him with her radiant smile. ‘I am the most fortunate one, Mr Solomon. It’s a long story, but I was forced to give up my child when she was just a baby, which is something I will regret for the rest of my life.’

  ‘I understand, my lady. Only a parent could appreciate the pain that must have caused you.’

  ‘Poppycock,’ Flora said angrily. ‘This sentimental drivel is getting us nowhere. If you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth, Belle, then I will.’

  ‘I should go after Lottie,’ Cassy said urgently. ‘I need to speak to her.’

  Belinda swayed on her feet and Eli rushed to pull up a chair. ‘Please sit down, ma’am. I can see that this is very distressing for you.’ He turned to Cassy. ‘Fetch a glass of beer for your mother, my dear.’

  ‘Beer!’ Flora almost spat the word. ‘My sister-in-law doesn’t drink beer, sir.’

  Fanning Belinda vigorously with his hands, Eli’s mouth twisted into a grim smile. ‘She will have to drink ale while she’s in this part of London, ma’am. The water is putrid and would kill her as easily as a dose of arsenic.’

  ‘Then give her brandy. For heaven’s sake, use your head, man. Can’t you see that Belinda is a lady and used to better things?’

  ‘I’ll get the beer,’ Cassy said hastily.

  ‘No need,’ Belinda said, rallying a little. ‘It was just a dizzy spell. I’m quite all right now, and I think we ought to leave. Coming here was a mistake and an imposition on Mr Solomon.’ She looked up at Eli with an apologetic smile trembling on her lips. ‘I am sorry if we’ve upset you and your daughter. It wasn’t our intention to cause trouble.’

  Cassy hesitated, longing to go after Lottie, but unwilling to leave her mother in this delicate state. She could see that Eli had fallen under her mother’s spell, but that only seemed to make matters worse. She twisted her hands behind her back, wishing that there was something she could say or do that would help matters, but Flora was obviously not in a mood for using tact and diplomacy. She took a lace handkerchief from her reticule and made a point of dusting off the seat of a chair kept for valued customers before sitting down. ‘A woman’s touch would make this apology for a business premises much more profitable,’ she said, arranging her skirts around her. ‘What no one seems prepared to admit is that we are destitute, or very nearly. For reasons which don’t concern you, Mr Solomon, we are homeless and virtually penniless. We need to find a property that is cheap to rent until our fortunes are restored.’

  Eli straightened up, adjusting his spectacles and angling his head thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure how I can help you, ma’am. I would offer you accommodation here, but as you can see it is not what you have been used to and there is barely room for myself and my daughter. When Cassy stayed here she had to share Lottie’s bed, although that did not seem to bother the pair of them. I could hear them chattering away and giggling until late into the night . . .’

  ‘I’m not interested in your personal sleeping arrangements, sir. Do you or do you not know of clean, respectable lodgings suitable for ladies of quality?’

  ‘Please don’t speak to Mr Solomon in that tone of voice, Flora,’ Belinda said, frowning. ‘We are all equals now and we are throwing ourselves on his mercy, so to speak.’ She looked up at Eli with an expression that Cassy thought would have melted the hardest heart, and it was becoming apparent that Eli could gainsay her nothing. He took her hand and raised it to his lips.

  ‘I am at your service, my lady. If you will rest here for a while, Lottie will look after you while I go out and do my best to find you suitable accommodation.’

  ‘At reasonable rates,’ Flora said sternly. ‘And don’t mention that there is a titled lady in question. Tradesmen always charge more when they think the gentry are involved. You may refer to me as plain Mrs Brown and my sister-in-law as Mrs Smith. I think that sounds common enough for us to pass unnoticed.’

  Eli shot her a shrewd glance. ‘It almost sounds as though you are evading the law, if you’ll forgive the impertinence, ma’am.’

  ‘I won’t. Go about your business, my man. When I have settled matters with my lawyer, I’ll see to it that you are suitably reimbursed for your pains.’

  Cassy smothered a gasp of dismay. She could cheerfully have slapped Flora’s arrogant face, but she managed to control her anger. There were more pressing matters on her mind and making her peace with Lottie was one of them.

  Eli snatched his slightly battered top hat off its peg on the wall and crammed it onto his head. Ignoring Flora, he addressed himself to Belinda, speaking in a gentle tone he might have used to a child. ‘I won’t be long, my lady.’ Crossing the floor, he opened the door that led into the private parlour. ‘Lottie, come here this minute. I want you to look after these ladies while I am out.’ Without waiting for a reply he hurried out into the street, leaving the shop door to jangle on its spring.

  ‘Flora. How could you speak to him like that?’ Belinda said in an undertone. ‘The poor man must have been mortified and yet he has gone out of his way to help us.’

  ‘Fiddlesticks! You have to keep these people in their place, Belle. I would have thought you’d have learned how to control underlings from your father, the colonel.’

  ‘My father treated his men with respect. He was a fair man and a good soldier.’

  ‘Stop it,’ Cassy cried passionately. ‘Leave Ma alone. You’re one of us now, Mrs Montessori or Brown, whatever you choose to call yourself. You should be grateful to Lottie’s pa for agreeing to help. He’s a real gentleman if ever there was one.’

  ‘That’s true. My pa will do anything for anybody.’

  The sound of Lottie’s voice made Cassy turn with a sigh of relief. She rushed to her side and seized her by the hand. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, and I never intended to embarrass your pa. You’re my best friend and I brought them here because I knew that he would help us.’

  Lottie hesitated for a moment, and then she flung her arms around Cassy. ‘I’m sorry too. It was a shock but I’m all right now, and I’m glad you found your real mother. Mine died when I was born and I suppose I was a bit jealous.’

  Belinda rose from her seat. ‘Cassy is lucky to know you, Lottie. She told me how you befriended her at school and for that I will always be truly grateful to you.’

  Lottie’s pale cheeks were suffused with a blush and she bobbed a curtsey. ‘That’s very kind of you, my lady.’

  ‘You must call me Belle. Flora is right. We’re all equals and the past is dead and buried. From now on I am plain Belinda Smith.’

  Cassy shook her head. ‘No, Ma. If I’m Cassy Lawson, then you should be Mrs Lawson. It’s a good name, and one you gave to me all those years ago.’

  Belinda turned away with a sigh. ‘Belinda Lawson,’ she murmured.

  ‘Smith, Lawson, pumpernickel – it doesn’t matter.’ Flora fixed her gaze on Lottie. ‘I thought you were getting us some refreshment, girl? I’m parched a
nd something to eat wouldn’t go amiss.’ She fished in her reticule and brought out two silver shillings. ‘Go out and buy some food and a bottle of brandy.’ She thrust the money into Lottie’s hand with a sigh. ‘That’s almost the last of my money. Is there a pawnshop in the vicinity? I must see my lawyer as soon as possible and I’ll need the cab fare to Lincoln’s Inn.’

  ‘I’ll come with you, Lottie.’ Cassy could not help smiling as she followed Lottie out of the shop. Their predicament might be dire, but having found her real mother at last made her the happiest girl in London and nothing could take that away from her. She linked her hand through Lottie’s arm as they walked towards Whitechapel High Street. ‘Why were you working in the shop, Lottie? I thought you were going to be a doctor?’

  ‘I was. I mean I am; at least I’ve started after a fashion.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It’s all very well for the government to pass an act allowing women to study medicine, but it’s only well-off families who can afford to send their daughters to medical school. I’ve started at the London Hospital, working as a ward maid, and I’m saving up every penny I can in the hope of studying at Mrs Garrett Anderson’s hospital in Bloomsbury.’

  ‘You’ll do it, I know you will.’ Cassy gave her arm a comforting squeeze. ‘But shouldn’t you be at work?’

  ‘I’m on night shifts, so you can have my bed tonight, although I expect that snooty aunt of yours will take it,’ Lottie said with an irrepressible chuckle. ‘Come on, Cass. Let’s get some pie and pease pudding.’

  ‘Don’t forget the brandy.’

  ‘Anything to keep the old lady happy.’ Lottie’s smile froze as Cassy dragged her to a halt outside a shop door where a woman lay sprawled on the pavement. Sitting beside her was a small boy of about five or six, holding out a ragged cap.

  ‘Spare a copper, miss?’

  ‘Come away, Cass,’ Lottie said, tugging at her arm. ‘The old woman is drunk. If you give her money she’ll only spend it on jigger gin.’

  Memories of Biddy and Three Herring Court flashed through Cassy’s mind. She looked closer at the filthy urchin who was staring up at her. His eyes were dull and she could see his collar bones sticking out through the shreds of his tattered shirt, but there was something about him that was achingly familiar, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the silvery line of a scar on the bridge of his nose. ‘Freddie?’ she murmured. ‘Is it you, Freddie?’

  The boy’s expression barely altered as he shook his cap at her. ‘A farthing will do if you can’t spare a copper, miss.’

  ‘What’s the matter with you, Cass?’ Lottie demanded. ‘I don’t know who Freddie is, but this is just a beggar boy.’

  Vague memories of being told that Freddie had been taken in by a soldier’s widow from Whitechapel came back to her now as Cassy leaned down to take a closer look at the old woman. Her mouth was slack and a trickle of saliva dribbled from her lips. Strands of greasy grey hair escaped from her mobcap to cling round her neck like the snakes on Medusa’s head, but even though her clothes were filthy and threadbare, Cassy could see that they had originally been of good quality. Pinned to her shawl, just discernible beneath a coating of grime, was a military badge. Cassy gave her a shake. ‘Wake up, Mrs Wilkins.’

  ‘How do you know her?’ Lottie asked anxiously. ‘You must be mistaken, Cass. This woman is a drunkard and the child is probably a pickpocket as well as a beggar.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Cassy said, bending lower so that her face was close to the boy’s. ‘Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. Is your name Freddie?’

  He nodded his head and Cassy scooped him up in her arms. ‘I knew it. I brought this boy up from a baby, Lottie. He was only nine months old when I last saw him, but I’d know Freddie anywhere. He’s got the biggest brown eyes I ever saw, and that tiny scar on his nose is where he fell over when he was trying to stand for the first time. It bled and it bled, so that I thought it would never stop.’ She rocked him in her arms, but he was having none of it and he struggled to get free.

  ‘Leave us alone, missis. I ain’t going to the orphanage. You can’t make me.’

  She went down on her knees, laying her hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eyes. ‘Freddie, I don’t expect you to remember me, but I’m Cassy. I took care of you when you were a baby. We were separated through no fault of mine, but I’ve always wanted to know what happened to you.’

  Before Freddie had a chance to absorb this piece of information, the woman stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes. She stared blearily at Cassy, blinking owlishly. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded in a slurred voice. She raised herself on her elbow. ‘You leave the boy alone, miss. He’s mine and you ain’t taking him away from me.’

  ‘I doubt very much if a woman your age could be the mother of this child,’ Lottie said sharply. ‘I think you use him to get money so that you can drink yourself into oblivion. I’ve seen it all before.’

  ‘I’m a respectable widow, miss. Annie Wilkins is the name, and there ain’t no call to speak to me in that tone.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ Lottie said sternly. ‘But can you prove that this boy belongs to you?’

  Mrs Wilkins attempted to rise but only managed to struggle to her knees. ‘I raised him,’ she said thickly. ‘Freddie, come away from the lady. She’s one of them who take children away from a good home in the name of charity. She’ll put you in an orphanage as soon as look at you.’

  Cassy scrambled to her feet. ‘No, you’ve got it all wrong, ma’am. My grandfather was Colonel Phillips, and I believe that your husband served under him in India. I’m right, aren’t I?’

  Mrs Wilkins focused her eyes on Cassy’s face with obvious difficulty. ‘You’re Miss Belinda’s daughter?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Come away from them, Ma,’ Freddie said, tugging at her. ‘Don’t let ’em take me away.’

  ‘I can’t think straight.’ Mrs Wilkins ran her hand across her eyes as if hoping such an action would clear her fuddled brain. ‘I need a drop of porter to set me up again.’

  ‘Leave them,’ Lottie urged. ‘We’ve got things to do, Cass.’

  ‘I can’t abandon Freddie for the second time.’ Cassy held her hand out to the boy who was hiding behind Mrs Wilkins, and sucking his thumb. ‘I won’t put you in an orphanage, Freddie. I won’t take you away from your mother if you want to stay with her, but I will find a way to help you both.’

  ‘Don’t need charity, young miss,’ Mrs Wilkins said, leaning heavily on Freddie as she clambered to her feet. She clutched her hand to her bosom, gasping for breath. ‘I need a drink, miss. It keeps the rheumatics at bay.’

  ‘Don’t look at me like that, Cass,’ Lottie said as if reading her thoughts. ‘It’s not your money to give away.’

  ‘Look at the boy, Lottie. He’s a mass of skin and bone, and he was such a lovely baby.’

  ‘I take good care of him, miss.’ Mrs Wilkins held her hand out. ‘If you give us a few pence I promise to spend it on food for Freddie.’

  ‘I heard that excuse time and again from old Biddy,’ Cassy said, shaking her head. ‘You must come home with us. We’ll see to it that you both have something to eat, and I’m sure my mother will think of some way to help you and Freddie.’

  Mrs Wilkins screwed her lips into the shape of a prune, angling her head and eyeing Cassy speculatively. She gave a brief nod. ‘You’re on, but I don’t want Miss Belinda to see me like this. I was a respectable woman before my luck changed.’

  ‘It can happen to anyone,’ Cassy said with feeling. ‘Follow us, Mrs Wilkins. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but you and Freddie will never want for food and shelter again.’

  Lottie walked on muttering beneath her breath and Cassy had to run to keep up with her. ‘What’s the matter? I couldn’t leave them in such a terrible state.’

  ‘You’re making promises you can’t hope to keep, Cass. Have you forgotten how hard life is in the East End, and you
without a penny to your name?’

  ‘No, I haven’t, and that’s why I won’t leave Freddie to die of want or turn to a life of crime. He was my baby, just like little Anna, and Samuel, and the twins Charity and Mercy. There were many others who passed away before they’d had a chance to live, but I’ve been lucky. I found my real mother and I’ve had a good education. I owe it to the dead babies to try and make a difference in the world, Lottie. I’ve seen how the poor struggle to survive and I’ve lived with the toffs who take what they want without any thought for others.’

  ‘All very fine,’ Lottie said, glancing over her shoulder at Mrs Wilkins who was staggering along behind them, aided by Freddie who was supporting her to the best of his ability. ‘But if you give her money she’ll fritter it away on drink, and tomorrow she and Freddie will be in the same state they were today.’

  ‘Not if I’ve got anything to do with it,’ Cassy said with a defiant toss of her head. ‘You want to heal the sick and I want to help poor children, just like the ones that Biddy took in and then neglected shamefully. You might not agree with me, but I know who would.’ If she concentrated hard, blotting out the sound of horses’ hooves, the rumble of wagon wheels, and the shouts of the costermongers and cabbies, she could hear Bailey’s voice, cheering her on and encouraging her to follow her heart.

  ‘Be it on your own head, then,’ Lottie said as she stopped outside the pie shop. ‘I’m not going to get my head bitten off by snooty Mrs Brown. You can take full responsibility for this, Cass.’

  Sniffing the air laden with the delicious aroma of hot meat and freshly baked pastry, Cassy felt her stomach growl with hunger. She could remember exactly what it was like to be so hungry that your stomach felt as though it was eating itself. She turned to Mrs Wilkins and Freddie with a confident smile. ‘Pie and pease pudding all round, then?’

  ‘And a drop of porter to keep out the cold?’ Mrs Wilkins said hopefully.

 

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