James was also enchanted with his little daughter, and he and Dolly often took her for long walks in the pram when weather permitted. Although Eliza didn’t resemble her mother, she was blessed with beautiful features. To capture her likeness, an artist might use a pleasing mixture of soft watercolours, whereas Gladys’s portrait would be more suited to brightly-coloured oils. Eliza was also a happy child and very seldom cried, which made her a favourite among the servants.
James could hardly wait for his Aunt Jean and Horace to see the baby, so he wrote to them both a few days after Eliza was born, inviting them to come for a visit.
Jean arrived a week later and was so taken with the child, she stayed for two weeks. During that time, she treated Gladys with more respect than she had previously, and she was even kind to Eddy.
There was something about Jean that caused Gladys to feel they shared a common bond, and, although she had no idea why, she no longer felt intimidated by the woman.
After Eliza was born, Jean’s visits were more frequent, and she always came with some little gifts for all three children, a gesture that Gladys remarked was unnecessary but very much appreciated.
Horace had married his Jewish sweetheart but hadn’t brought her to Four Oaks until he received James’s letter with the birth announcement. He and Sarah arrived two months later, after he had written to explain that he and his wife would be unable to eat non-kosher food now that he had converted to Judaism. He suggested that Freda should get in touch with the Heildelkoff’s cook, who was also Jewish and could give her instructions on how to prepare kosher food.
It seemed that Horace wanted very much to please his new bride, but Freda wasn’t happy about it. “I love that boy, mum,” she complained to Gladys. “But I don’t hold with having to make special dishes just because he went an’ married a foreigner.”
“The reason she has to eat different foods is not because she is foreign, Freda. You see, according to the rules of their church, they are forbidden to eat certain foods. I am sure it will not be difficult to oblige them. Since I have met Mrs Heildelkoff at one of Mary’s teas, I shall go with you when you go to talk to her cook,” Gladys promised.
That seemed to satisfy Freda. In fact, she looked forward to a trip to town with her mistress, and it would give her a chance to wear the lovely coat Gladys had made her.
James and Gladys’s first impression of Horace’s wife, Sarah, was not as favourable as they had anticipated. Her appearance was that of a mousy little woman dressed appropriately in a plain, dark-grey ensemble that, when she stepped away from the lamplight, tended to render her invisible.
However, it only took a few days before she had James wrapped around her proverbial little finger. Never had he met a woman who could give such highly intelligent and interesting opinions on a vast variety of subjects. They enjoyed each other’s company and spent hours discussing history and authors, leaving Horace and Gladys free to entertain each other and the children.
The newlyweds stayed at Four Oaks for one month. Sarah may not have been a striking beauty, but she had other attributes that made up for it. In spite of her plain features, she showed no signs of an inferiority complex. She was brighter than most men she knew and proud of it. Although Gladys wasn’t as learned as Sarah, they had the same ideas about women’s rights.
Gladys could see why Horace was in love with Sarah. Her eyes were like a door that welcomed you into her heart. Gladys thought she was wonderful.
As for Horace, Gladys felt as though she had known him all her life. He was like the brother she had never had, and he must have felt the same because they both found it easy to confide in each other. Horace had invested in diamonds when they were in demand and was clever enough to foresee a drop in the market and had begun purchasing other types of stones that were rapidly becoming popular. Gladys was intrigued with his stories of the exotic countries he had visited in order to find the gems, and the obvious interest she displayed encouraged him to go on for hours.
He also told her about his feelings toward James and how happy he was to convert to Judaism. “I only wish my grandmother could have witnessed it. She would be so happy. Until I converted, I felt as though I had no true identity. It was as though I was an empty shell, but now I feel whole. It is truly amazing!”
Gladys said she knew exactly how he felt, and since James had told him all about her past, she tried to explain how she felt going through all the different changes in her life.
“I would die if I had to go back to Old Nichol, but even so, I don’t feel I belong here either.”
“Are you and father not happy together?”
“We are not miserable, but we both have lost the only person in our lives that could make us truly happy.”
“I suppose you mean Eddy’s father, but who has Father lost? Not mother—I don’t think they were all that happy.”
“You remember James’s friend, Percy? Well, Percy and your father had such good times together before they had a falling out that James hasn’t been the same since. Percy has tried to contact him to no avail. If you get a chance, Horace, I wish you would try to persuade him to visit Percy again.”
Horace had sensed that there was something more than just a friendship between the two men the first time he had seen them together, but the thought was not a pleasant one, and he had ignored it. Now that he was Jewish, Horace had experienced bigotry for the first time, and it had taught him the value of tolerance.
“Of course I will, but what about you? What can we do about your unhappy situation?”
“There is nothing you can do. My love lives in another world with a family of his own, and I shall never see him again. That is the way it must be. But I have three wonderful children, and your father has given us everything a family could wish for, so you mustn’t feel sorry for me. My goodness, Horace, this is heaven compared to some places I have lived.”
“Well, Father is lucky to have you, and if you ever need someone to talk to, you just write to me, yes?”
Gladys promised she would, but, oddly enough, it was Sarah who she eventually came to regularly corresponded with. Perhaps because Sarah had written to her announcing the news of her pregnancy, saying she hoped she would be as perfect a parent as Gladys.
After Horace and Sarah left, James asked Gladys if she had noticed any difference in Horace since he converted to Judaism, and when she said he was still as nice as ever, James replied, “I pray all our neighbours and friends will feel that way when they learn he is no longer a Christian.”
Chapter Eighteen
For over a year, Eddy continued to resent Eliza’s presence. Things changed one morning. When Edna, the nanny, wasn’t looking, he dropped a spoonful of porridge on the floor for the cat. Eliza giggled with delight and did the same thing. When Nanny saw what was happening, she scolded them both, and, for the first time, Eddy felt a sense of kinship with his little sister. From that time on, Eliza adored Eddy, and to his delight, all he had to do was make a funny face, execute a somersault, or just jump up and down on one leg, and she would clap her hands and beg for more.
Eddy’s personality changed for the better now that he had an admiring audience, but James’s dislike for the boy continued, and, without realizing it, he often referred to him as “that boy” or just “him,” and seldom by his proper name. Like Dolly, Eddy referred to James as “sir,” whereas James insisted Eliza call him “Papa.” It was only natural that the boy began to have strong feelings of antipathy toward the man who he thought was his father.
Nevertheless, the family did enjoy many outings together as well as celebrations of different holidays and birthdays. Aunt Jean was always invited to these celebrations, and she seldom turned one down. Gladys returned to the choir, and she and James attended church on a regular basis. By all appearances, they were an idyllic family and were well thought of in the town. But in truth, Gladys still longed for Toughie and Jam
es for his dear friend, Percy.
James and Gladys received many invitations to balls, dinner parties, and other social events. Neither was fond of socializing, but they attended quite a few events for appearance’s sake, and sometimes they reciprocated. This meant many previously unused rooms at Four Oaks would have to be reopened. Because these rooms hadn’t been used for many years, Gladys thought they should be redecorated and James agreed.
She was delighted when he left the matter in her hands with no limit or budget. Having decided to choose the furniture first, then drapery to match, she began her shopping in Sandwich but wasn’t happy with the selection there. She was tempted to visit Dover, where there were stores that carried the styles she preferred, but the fear of running into Peter was too great, so she decided to go to London.
At first James thought he would accompany her, but his cricket team had been challenged to a match he didn’t want to miss. Gladys was happy to be travelling alone and she enjoyed the train ride.
After she arrived and was settled in, she took a cab to a furniture store nearest to James’s flat. As soon as she entered the building, a short elderly gentleman rushed to greet her. Smiling, he said, “Why, hello, Mrs Pickwick. How very nice to see you again. And what may I help you with today? If I remember correctly, your preference was Tudor, was it not?”
Gladys was so surprised when he called her Mrs Pickwick that she didn’t answer for a second. Then, when she looked around at her surroundings, it was as though she had stepped back in time. This was the same store she had bought many of the furnishings for Oaken Arms. The same little man, the same arrangements of settees and chairs, and the same smell of polished oak.
She must have paled, because the clerk reached for her arm. “Oh my, Mrs Pickwick. I pray you are not going to faint. Here, let me help you over to a chair.”
She allowed him to seat her, then she took two deep breaths and the colour returned to her cheeks.
“I am sorry, Mr Samson.” Gladys remembered his name because Andrew had thought it so unsuitable that, as soon as they left the shop, he laughed and remarked about it. “I am quite recovered now,” she assured him, but she didn’t know whether to leave or stay. It had brought back so many memories that for a minute she couldn’t think clearly.
“I am pleased to hear that, Mrs Pickwick.”
“I am not Mrs Pickwick anymore, Mr Samson. I have remarried and my name is Mrs Hornsby now.”
“Please accept my apology and my congratulations, Mrs Hornsby,” he said, adding a slight bow.
When Gladys remained silent, he seemed to have trouble thinking what to say next. Gladys guessed that he was trying to decide whether to ask about her father-in-law or not, and she didn’t want to have to explain what happened to Andrew so she pointed to a settee.
“I am pleased to see that you still carry the same line.”
“Yes indeed, Mrs Hornsby. But if you will come this way, I have something special I would like to show you.”
She followed him up the stairs to the second floor where he pointed to a row of armchairs. “I just bought these last week, and I was hoping that someone like you, who I know appreciates fine craftsmanship, would come in.”
Gladys had never seen such exquisite chairs. The grain of the wood they were made of had different shades that swirled and curled in delicate patterns and shone like treacle. “What kind of wood is it?” she asked.
“Walnut, mum. They are handcrafted out of walnut by one man. They took him two years to make, and they are the only ones like it. They have an extra thick layer of horsehair to make them even more comfortable. Please sit on one.”
Gladys sat down. “This is the most comfortable chair that I’ve ever sat in, except for one of those big leather chairs you have downstairs. Is there a matching settee or two?”
“I agreed to take these twelve chairs on assignment for the chap, and he said that was all he had made, but perhaps if you were to meet him and tell him you intend to purchase all twelve, he might agree to make a settee to match. I can give you his name and address if you like.”
“You don’t mind doing that?”
“Mrs Hornsby, you and your father-in-law were good customers back when I was just starting out, and you have no idea what that meant to me.”
The cost of the twelve chairs was as much as Gladys intended to spend on redecorating the dining room and the ball room, but if the craftsman would make her two settees, she could buy material and make the drapery herself. She had promised to meet Percy for lunch, so she thanked Mr Samson, took the address, and left.
Percy was waiting for her at a little tea shop near James’s flat. After they ordered their lunch, Gladys told him about the chairs. Percy was very interested and suggested they take a cab and visit the craftsman as soon as they finished their meal.
“Where does he live?” he asked.
Gladys hadn’t looked at the piece of paper the salesman had given her, so she took it out of her purse and read it. “Let’s see. His name is Richard Ellison and he lives on West Bethal Green Road,” she gasped.
Seeing the look of concern on Percy’s face, she explained, “He lives very near Warehouse Corner.” Percy still didn’t understand why that should bother her.
“Remember I told you and James how Ma and Da had a junkyard in Old Nichol? Well, Warehouse Corner is what the junk men called the place where they came to pick up whatever the wealthy threw away. And when I was old enough, I helped push the cart with Da.”
“Gladys, if it is going to upset you, I can go alone to see him for you.”
“Thank you, Percy, but there is no one there I know anymore. The last time I was there was when Laura Watt sent me to bring Pinky Davis and Ellie O’Brian back to the inn in Dover. Things were, and likely still are, so dire that, rather than see their girls die of starvation, many families sold them or gave them to people like the Watts so they could work for their room and board. I must say though, that the Watts were one of the few who gave their girls a small wage, even though it wasn’t mandatory.
“No, I think I can handle it now, Percy, but having you with me makes it much easier.”
Richard Ellison lived right on the border of Old Nichol. Although his house was not much better than some of the shacks in the slums, he did have more room, and there wasn’t an open sewer running past his back door. There was a large shed at the back of his house, and since smoke was coming from its chimney, Percy said that must be where he did his work.
After asking the cab driver to wait, they approached the house and knocked at the door. Someone with a very sweet-sounding voice called out, “I’m comin’.” Then they heard the same voice say, “Lizzy, luv, come stir this ‘ere pot while I gets the door.”
It would be impossible to describe the woman who opened the door without using the word sweet. Not only did she have a sweet voice, but her delicate features and her blonde ringlets could be best described using the same adjective.
She offered a dimpled smile and said, “Hello.”
She was so childlike that Gladys was about to ask if her father was home when one of the four children sitting around a table asked, “Who is it, Momma?”
“Hit’s a proper lady and a gentleman,” was her reply.
“Are you Mrs Ellison?” Gladys asked.
When the woman confirmed that she was, Percy spoke up and inquired if her husband was at home.
The woman said she would send one of the children out to the shop to fetch him, then insisted they come in and wait for him.
After seating them, she said, “I’ll jist go an’ check on the stew, if you don’t mind. Won’t be a minute.” She left Gladys and Percy with three children staring at them like they were creatures from another world. Gladys saw they had all been working on their slates, and she thought they might have been practicing their sums.
Smiling at the girl, who appeared to
be the eldest, she asked, “Do you like school?”
The girl blushed and mumbled something Gladys couldn’t hear. Realizing the girl was shy, she gave up trying to have a conversation when the smallest child surprised her and spoke up, “We don’t go to no school, ma’am.”
“We don’t go to any school, Nicky,” a young lady corrected the boy as she entered the room.
“Hello. I am Liz Ellison.” She gave them both such a firm handshake that Gladys liked her immediately. “I am the oldest of these ragamuffins, and after hearing Nicky, I am rather ashamed to admit that I am responsible for their education.”
When Gladys and Percy looked surprised, she explained, “You see, I had a cousin who was fortunate enough to have a tutor, and I was allowed to visit her whenever she had her lessons. I learned enough to teach my siblings. Because my mother died when I was born, I am the only one of us that is related to my wealthy aunt. Unfortunately, she refuses to acknowledge the rest of the family.”
Mrs Ellison came back just as Liz finished talking, and she jokingly scolded, “Liz, I’m sure these folks didn’t come all the way out ‘ere jist ta hear about your aunt, bless her soul. Maybe you’d best go an’ see what’s keepin’ your da.”
Liz left and Mrs Ellison said, “Hopes you’ll scuse the smell. I ‘as a pot o’ rabbit stew cookin’.”
“It smells delicious, Mrs Ellison,” Gladys replied. She meant it, too. It reminded her of the smell of stew she and Dolly had been given when they visited the Romani camp back in Dover.
“You can calls me Nell. Oh, I hears them comin’ in now,” She announced as her husband entered the room.
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