by Dilly Court
‘Hold on, mate,’ Salter said, scowling. ‘These people are trespassing on my property. What’s to stop them taking off in the middle of the night?’
‘They can’t get far. I’ll alert the lock keeper at Lea Bridge and should they be foolish enough to try to make a run for it, he’ll refuse to open the gates.’
‘I’m not leaving this spot,’ Salter said, folding his arms across his chest. ‘I’m staying where I can keep an eye on these two.’
‘A young woman, a boy and a baby ain’t my idea of a ferocious gang, mister,’ Constable Morris said scornfully. ‘You heard the guv; no one is going anywhere tonight. I suggest you get on home and leave these people in peace.’
Salter looked as though he was about to argue, but the constable fingered his truncheon in a manner that suggested he was quite prepared to use it should the necessity arise.
‘I ain’t going far,’ Salter muttered. ‘I’m watching you two, so don’t try nothing funny.’
‘And don’t you,’ Tom countered. ‘You heard what the copper said. It’ll be sorted out by the beak tomorrow, and it ain’t up to you.’
‘That’s enough,’ Effie said, laying her hand on his shoulder. ‘Let’s get some sleep.’
The police officers strode off along the towpath, but Salter stationed himself on the ground, squatting down and wrapping his arms around his knees as if he intended to keep watch all night.
‘I’ll kip on deck,’ Tom said stubbornly. ‘I don’t trust him.’
‘I think we’ll all sleep on deck,’ Effie said, eyeing Salter anxiously. ‘Mr Grey needs absolute quiet and I don’t want Georgie to see him in such a state. I’ll fetch pillows and blankets. It’s a warm night and there’s a clear sky, so I don’t think it will rain.’
‘Just let him try something,’ Tom muttered, glaring at Salter. ‘I’ve been waiting for a chance to get my own back on the old devil.’
‘Take Georgie to the stern and don’t even look at Salter. He’s spoiling for a fight and you’re half his size; you’d end up in the cut with your throat slit.’ Effie waited to make sure that Tom obeyed her instructions. Satisfied that he had done as he was told, she went into the cabin to check on Jacob. The brandy bottle was empty and he lay flat on his back, pale and still like a marble statue. His breathing was stertorous but at least he was not in pain and would hopefully sleep through the night. All her bitter feelings and anger towards the man who had made her life a misery seemed petty and of little importance now. Jacob Grey would soon join his beloved Margaret and their son, and she could only hope that when the end came it would be mercifully swift and painless. She made a bundle of their blankets and pillows and she was about to extinguish the flame in the oil lamp, but she changed her mind and left it burning. If Jacob were taken ill in the night she would need to reach him quickly, and it would be easier if the cabin was not in complete darkness. She turned the wick down and went outside, closing the door behind her.
Salter was in the same position on the towpath and she could feel his eyes upon her as she made her way to the stern.
‘Make the most of it,’ he shouted. ‘This is the last night you’ll ever spend on my boat.’
Ignoring his taunts, she went to join Tom who was cradling Georgie in his arms. They made themselves as comfortable as possible, wrapped in blankets against the damp chill that rose from the water even though it was a warm night. Effieclosed her eyes but Salter’s words played on her mind. If the magistrate ruled in his favour they would once again be homeless, with the added burden of a mortally sick man. The prospect was frankly terrifying.
She was dreaming. It was hot and the sun was beating down mercilessly. She was back in the fairground and she could hear the barkers shouting, but there was panic in their voices. Something was wrong. She could smell woodsmoke but it was not the pleasant aroma of camp fires; there was a hint of hot tar and blistering paintwork.
‘Fire!’
Effie opened her eyes and saw flames shooting up from the cabin roof. The first streaks of light split the dark sky but the orange glow of the fire turned night into day. Tom was already on his feet and Georgie sat up, rubbing his eyes as he stared in amazement at the inferno.
‘Fire! Effie, the boat is on fire.’ Tom snatched Georgie from her side clutching him tightly in his arms. ‘Get up. There’s nothing we can do.’
Dazed and only half awake, Effie could see the outline of Salter’s large frame as he attempted to douse the flames that engulfed the cabin with buckets of water that he hefted from the canal.
‘Where is Pa-in-law?’ Effie cried as the enormity of the situation hit her like a hammer blow. ‘He’s in the cabin, Tom. We must get him out.’
Tom climbed onto the towpath with Georgie safely tucked under one arm. ‘Come on, Effie. There’s nothing you can do.’
‘I can’t leave him to burn to death.’ Effie had to shout to make herself heard above the roaring of the flames and the crackling, splintering sound of the wooden vessel going up in smoke.
Tom reached down and seized her hand, dragging her onto the canal bank with a superhuman effort. ‘It’s too late. He wouldn’t have stood a chance.’
‘The oil lamp,’ Effie murmured. ‘I left it burning in case he needed me in the night. He must have knocked it over. It’s all my fault.’
‘It weren’t an accident.’ Jacob’s breathless whisper behind them sounded like a voice from the dead.
Effie spun round expecting to see a ghost but Jacob emerged from a cloud of smoke, coughing and retching but very much alive. She threw her arms around him, all animosity forgotten. ‘What happened?’
‘I done it on purpose,’ Jacob wheezed. ‘I wasn’t going to let that bugger take my Margaret away from me. She’s going out in a blaze of glory is my old girl.’ He covered his mouth with his hands as a spasm of coughing rendered him speechless. He swayed on his feet and Effie’s efforts to support him were in vain. He collapsed onto the towpath struggling for each painful breath.
‘Help me,’ Salter bellowed. ‘Don’t just bloody stand there, boy.’
‘I wouldn’t spit on you if you was on fire, Salter.’ Tom swung Georgie onto his shoulders. ‘That’s what happens to bad boys, Georgie.’
‘Hot,’ Georgie cried gleefully. ‘Fire.’
‘Take him away from here,’ Effie cried anxiously. ‘The fire is spreading.’
Tom eyed her doubtfully. ‘I can’t leave you.’
‘And I can’t walk away from a dying man,’ Effie said gently. ‘I’ve seen it before, Tom. Owen was like this at the end and it’s not pretty. I don’t want Georgie to see his grandpa breathe his last. The Lea Bridge lock isn’t too far off. Take the mare and ride to the keeper’s cottage. Ask them to send for a doctor, although I doubt if anything can be done.’
‘Never mind the old fool,’ Salter shouted. ‘I need help.’
Tom turned his back on Salter and the burning narrowboat. He hesitated for a moment but a pleading look from Effie seemed to convince him. ‘All right. I’ll go, but I’ll be back as soon as I’ve seen Georgie safe.’ He strode off along the towpath to where the horses were tethered.
Satisfied that her son and brother were out of harm’s way, Effie went down on her knees beside Jacob. She could tell by his ashen colour and the amount of blood that had come from his last fit of coughing that the end was near. She slipped her left arm out of the sling and found to her relief that she could move it without too much pain. She raised Jacob’s head gently in an attempt to ease his laboured breathing. ‘Was it an accident, Pa?’
‘He would have taken my Margaret. I couldn’t lose her twice.’
‘I understand.’ There was nothing she could say that would ease the situation or comfort the dying man. Effie stroked his forehead and held his hand. The heat was intense and the smoke threatened to choke her, but she could not leave him to die alone. Salter fought on, heaving buckets of water over the side in a vain attempt to quench the raging inferno, but eventually he had to abandon his ef
forts and leap to safety. He backed away, shielding his face with his arm. ‘Move, you silly bitch.’ He roared. ‘You’ll roast if you stay there.’ He retreated into the smoke and Effie was left alone with her father-in-law.
‘I – I’m s-sorry, girl.’
The words were so faint that Effie was not certain whether she imagined them. Jacob’s eyes were open but the rattle in his chest could have been his last breath or simply the struggle to stay alive. The towpath was illuminated by a fiery glow and smoke billowed up into the pale green dawn sky. She felt the heat searing her skin but she could not move. She was trapped in a fiery hell with a dying man. She was finding it difficult to breathe. Her lungs were filling with noxious fumes and she felt faint. There was a sudden whoosh as flames engulfed the Margaret’s deck and the hull above the waterline, and Effie felt herself lifted off the ground. She thought vaguely this must be what it was like to die and that her end had come.
When she came to she found herself hanging upside down over the saddle of a cantering horse. The breath was being pummelled from her lungs with every bucketing movement. The stench of the fire was replaced by the comforting smell of horseflesh and leather. The next thing she knew she was lying on a patch of damp grass with water being splashed on her face. Her attempt to sit up was foiled by a pair of strong hands and the sound of a familiar voice. ‘It’s all right, Effie. You’re safe now.’
‘Toby?’ She focused her eyes with difficulty. She was neither dead nor dreaming. She was staring up into Toby Tapper’s anxious face. ‘It is you.’
‘It most certainly is, my dear girl. You’ve led me a merry dance, I must say.’
This casual remark brought Effie back to reality with a jerk and she sat up. ‘Don’t you dare speak to me of merry dances. You abandoned me and Georgie in that awful place. Where were you when I needed you?’
‘I’ll explain later, but if you’re feeling better I think we’d best move on.’ Toby stood up, brushing the mud off his knees. ‘Can you stand, or must I lift you?’
Effie allowed him to help her to her feet. ‘Mr Grey,’ she said weakly. ‘I was with him and I could see that he was dying.’
‘He’s gone, Effie. I could see that even as I snatched you from the jaws of death. Don’t I get a kiss for saving your life?’
‘That’s not funny.’ Effie slapped his hand away. ‘You’re a rogue and a scoundrel. You left me and my boy to the mercy of that madman in Marsh House while you went off trading horses. You’ve neither conscience nor a sense of responsibility.’
‘Guilty as charged, although I think you exaggerate.’
‘I do not. You promised to find Tom and bring him back to me and you let me down.’
‘I know it and I admit that I’m past redemption. I’ll explain everything later but Tom and Georgie are waiting for us at the lock keeper’s cottage, and I suggest we make haste to join them.’
Effie’s breath hitched in her throat. ‘You’ve seen them. Are they all right?’
Toby whistled for his horse and the chestnut gelding trotted obediently to his side. ‘Both are well and anxious about you.’
Effie glanced over her shoulder expecting to see Jacob’s body sprawled on the towpath, but it was concealed by a veil of smoke. ‘I can’t just leave him lying there. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘We can’t take him with us, Effie. Best leave it to the police.’
‘I can’t do that. He’s Georgie’s grandfather when all is said and done. Owen would never forgive me if I abandoned the old man now.’
Toby thrust the reins at her. ‘Hold my horse.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Just wait there.’ Toby strode off into the swirling smoke and disappeared from sight. Minutes later Effie heard the clatter of hooves and he reappeared, leading Champion with Jacob’s corpse draped over the animal’s back.
‘It’s disrespectful,’ Effie murmured, swallowing a sob. ‘He looks like a sack of coal.’
‘It can’t be helped,’ Toby said with a sympathetic smile. ‘It’s not very dignified but I can’t see any other way.’ Before Effie had a chance to protest he tossed her onto the saddle and vaulted up behind her. With Champion’s halter in his hand, Toby urged his mount forward. ‘We need to get away before the police start asking awkward questions. Tom told me that Salter was out for revenge, so we haven’t much time to lose.’
‘Where are we going?’ Effie demanded. ‘We should take Mr Grey to an undertaker.’
‘Not a chance,’ Toby said, shaking his head. ‘Stop worrying, and leave it to me. I’ve got a lot to make up for. Hold your breath, Effie; we’re going through the smoke.’
An hour later the small procession was wending its way across Hackney Marsh with Toby and Effie at its head. Champion plodded along behind them with Jacob’s body wrapped in an old bed sheet purchased from Mrs Hoskins. With Jim’s help, Toby had draped the corpse over the saddle, securing it with a length of rope. Effie protested that it made the dead man look like a bundle of dirty washing, but the only response she received was a sympathetic grunt from Toby and Jim had urged them to be on their way before Salter arrived with the police. They had set off immediately with Tom and Georgie bringing up the rear.
‘I can guess where you’re taking us,’ Effie said as they headed deeper into the marshes. ‘I don’t want to go back there, Toby.’
His arms tightened almost imperceptibly around her waist. ‘We’ve no choice. The police would have no reason to look for us at Marsh House, and where else could we turn up with a dead man in tow and the police on our tail?’
Put like that there was little that Effie could say. ‘I suppose we must, but I won’t stay a moment longer than necessary.’
‘I don’t understand why you ran away in the first place. Did you fall out with Nellie?’
‘You promised to return,’ Effie said bitterly. ‘You said you would find Tom and bring him to me.’
‘I did find him and I left him with Jim while I went about my business.’
‘But you knew that I was worried sick. Why didn’t you bring him straight to me?’
‘I had the chance of a deal that was too good to miss, and then I heard that my grandmother had died. She was the last of my Romany family and I had to go to her funeral. I owed her that at least.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Effie murmured. ‘Her medicine made Georgie well again, and I never had the chance to thank her.’
Toby was silent for a moment and Effie felt his muscles tense as he struggled with his emotions. Until now she had thought him superficial and incapable of deep feeling, and his genuine grief came as a surprise. He cleared his throat as if embarrassed to admit that he was mourning the death of his grandmother. ‘You haven’t answered my question,’ he said with an obvious attempt at bringing the conversation back to safer ground. ‘Why did you leave Marsh House in such a hurry?’
‘It was Mr Westlake. Nellie made me wait on him. I think she knew what would happen.’
‘Seymour is a drunkard and his mind wanders, but I can’t believe he would do anything to harm you.’
‘You know very well that he tried to get into bed with me. He thought I was Mirella.’
‘I told Nellie to take care of you and make certain that he was locked in his room at night.’
‘She did neither of those things. She made me take food to his room. Sometimes he was quite sensible and at other times when he was obviously under the influence of that terrible drug he thought I was Mirella. I don’t think he’s a wicked man, Toby, but he is confused and very unhappy.’
‘I don’t know why.’ Toby’s voice throbbed with suppressed anger. ‘He has the manor house and more money than he could spend in a lifetime. He was quick enough to throw me out when my mother died.’
‘Do you really not know, or don’t you want to admit the truth?’
‘What truth? You’re rambling, girl. It must be the shock of what’s just happened.’
‘I’m perfectly clear in my head. I think t
hat Mr Westlake and Mirella were lovers and that he is your father.’
‘That’s nonsense. My father was a gardener who was sent packing as soon as the master found out that my mother was in the family way.’
‘I don’t know much about these matters,’ Effie said, choosing her words carefully. ‘But it was said in the workhouse that the woman always suffered in such circumstances. She was the one who was sent off without a character and left to fend for herself and her child, not the man.’
‘What are you saying? What has that to do with my mother?’
‘She was allowed to stay on at Marsh House after you were born, and you were both treated well. She was close to Mr Westlake after his wife died and she nursed him through the illness that scarred him for life. I believe that he’s never got over her death.’
‘If that was so, why did he send me away after Ma died?’
‘I don’t know, but maybe he was ashamed to have fathered you out of wedlock, or perhaps the mere sight of you reminded him of the love he had lost.’
‘That is all supposition on your part, Effie. He is nothing to me.’
‘And yet you return to Marsh House again and again. Why do you do that, Toby? What draws you to that sad and lonely place?’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘What a wonderful imagination you have, Effie. You could write stories for magazines and get paid for your flights of fancy.’
‘What’s the joke?’ Tom called from behind them. ‘Are we nearly there yet? I’m blooming starving and so is Georgie.’
‘It won’t be long now,’ Toby shouted, digging his heels into the horse’s flanks. ‘Trot on.’
It was raining by the time they reached Marsh House. A mist had crept over the marshes, blotting out the horizon, and the rain sizzled and steamed as it hit the dried mud on the track. It was a bleak sight that met their eyes and an even gloomier welcome as they rode into the stable yard. Jeffries hobbled out of the tack room. ‘I thought we’d got rid of you for good,’ he said, addressing Toby as he lifted Effie from the saddle.