by Jos
Oh please, don’t mention cholent! Becky felt like screaming. She didn’t want to see any more of it as long as she lived! Just then there was a knock at the door. It was Mirrie.
“How are you, Mrs Feldman?” Mirrie asked.
“Mustn’t complain, mustn’t complain. I’m much better today, thank God.”
“Can Becky come with me to the market? The fog’s lifted, so we’ll be able to see what we’re buying!”
“Get my purse, Becky. Go along with Mirrie and get me a few things. Leave the dishes,” she said, as Becky started to clear up. “It’ll give me something to do. I can’t be sitting around doing nothing all day.”
“I’m so glad you came, Mirrie,” Becky sighed as they walked arm in arm to the market, “because I’m in the depths of despair.”
“What d’you mean, ‘in the depths of despair’? What’s up? I thought you’d be feeling very pleased with yourself today. Now look at you, all pale and washed out. What happened?”
“I can’t bear to talk about it.”
“For heaven’s sake, Becky, tell me!”
“Mrs Herring Haffner’s cholent was delicious! It was just as good as my mother’s used to be!” Becky blurted out.
“No! Honestly?”
Becky nodded.
“Poor Becky, I’m very sorry,” Mirrie said, trying to comfort her friend. “The gossips in the public baths must have got it wrong.”
“I was stupid enough to believe them. You can’t imagine how terrible it was for me having to sit there listening to everyone going on about Mrs H being a wonderful cook. It made me want to throw up. Abe Klein said – ”
“Abe Klein?” Mirrie interrupted. “What was he doing there?”
“He must have arranged it all, ‘cos Papa wouldn’t have gone on his own.”
“Look, Becky, I don’t think you should…”
“Papa’s going to marry her,” Becky said quietly.
“What, already? So soon?”
“Yes, I think so. He’s going to speak to Rabbi Meyer about it today.”
“How d’you know that?”
“I heard him telling Bubbe.”
“What did he say?”
“Only that he was going to see the rabbi.”
“Well it may not be about getting married. Rabbis look after all sorts of other things, y’know.”
Becky sniffed and wiped her eyes on the corner of her apron.
“I still think Papa’s mad. Yossie’ll be alright, it’ll be different for him. She’ll give him lots of food and spoil him.”
“What about your grandmother?”
Becky shrugged. “I don’t know if Mrs Haffner’ll be able to look after her. Anyway, I’ve made up my mind,” she said defiantly, “I’m not going to live with them. I’d run away like a shot, if I’d got somewhere to go.”
The girls stopped and looked at each other as if one single thought had struck them at the same time.
“Come and live with us!” Mirrie beamed. “Mama likes you. She’s always talking about you.”
“Is she? Really?” Becky said shyly. “She made me feel so much at home on Friday. But have you got room for me?”
“Course we have. Mrs K has one room and Mum and I share a bed in the other. You can have the alcove bed and…” Mirrie stopped as if she’d just remembered something. “My mother’s friend Hershel’s coming all the way from America to see us, though I don’t know when exactly.”
“I’ve heard so much about him from your mother. What’s he like?”
“I don’t remember because I was too little. He must be fond of Mama because he’s always kept in touch with her. D’you want to come to us, then?”
“Oh, Mirrie, you know I would.”
Mirrie squeezed Becky’s arm excitedly. “Good, I’ll ask Mama and see what she says. We’ll be able to do our homework and have fun together. But what you need now,” she said, opening her purse, “is a little treat. D’you want a slice of coconut?”
“Ooh yes!”
“Come on then, I’ll buy some. Cheer up, I hate seeing you all upset.”
They wandered round eating, chatting and shopping. They had almost finished when Mirrie stopped and nudged Becky.
“Look, Becky, look over there!”
“Who? Where?”
“There, there, just in front of the book stall. Isn’t that your father talking to someone?”
Becky went white as a sheet.
“That’s Abe Klein,” she hissed. “Oh, God, Papa doesn’t waste any time does he? He must be telling him about meeting the rabbi. Quick, Mirrie, let’s go. I don’t want them to see us.”
They mingled with the crowds of shoppers along the rows of market stalls. They were just about to turn the corner when they bumped straight into Sol Haffner. Quick as a flash, he grabbed Becky by the hair.
“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” she shouted. “Get off me! Leave me alone!” She wriggled and squirmed and kicked, but Sol held her fast.
Mirrie tried to grab his arm. “Let go of her, you great bully, let her go,” she screamed.
“Shurrup, you!” Sol growled. He shoved her roughly out of the way without losing his grip on Becky.
“So this is the precious scholarship girl, is it?” he sneered, putting his face close to hers. “My sisters don’t go in for fancy learning. They ‘ave to work at home and in the shop, got that? D’you want to know what happens to girls who get too big for their boots?” he asked, giving Becky’s hair another sharp pull. “Do you?” he shouted. “No? Well I’ll show you…”
Flat 74 Rothschild Buildings,
Brick Lane,
Whitechapel,
London.
Sunday 22nd November 1908
Dear Mama,
The Secrets Of My Heart (although this time it isn’t very secret!)
Sol Haffner knocked me flying in the market today. I fell backwards, crashing into a market stall with fruit and vegetables pouring down on me. I cut my eye which swelled up until I couldn’t see out of it. My nose was bleeding, my knees were grazed and I hurt my back. I just lay there shivering and shaking all over. Mirrie screamed for help and then suddenly there were lots of people round us. One of the neighbours from our building took us home. Bubbe was very upset and sent Mirrie to buy a piece of beef steak to put on my eye to get the swelling down. Yossie said it was a waste of good meat! (Well, he would wouldn’t he?) I wish Papa had been there. He keeps asking me how I’m feeling, but that’s all. He’s gone quieter than ever.
I’m still covered in bruises and my bad eye is like the colours of the rainbow: black, blue, red, green and a bit of yellow. I can’t bear to look in the mirror. Everyone at school knows about it. Sol Haffner denied everything, he said I’d tripped and fallen. He’s a liar and a bully. My friends are very kind, they keep giving me special treats – toffee apples and cinnamon buns, which I share with Yossie and Mirrie. Miss Bennet told me not to do any homework until my eye’s better. Mrs Lazarus washed the mud off my dress and mended my torn petticoat and stockings.
My mind is quite made up. I’m never going to live with the Haffners, not after what happened. Mirrie is going to ask her mother and Mrs K if I can live with them. Please ask God to help me with my plan, because I don’t know what else I can do.
God Bless.
Yours faithfully,
Rebecca Feldman.
Chapter 11
“You’d better get upstairs quick, Becky. Mirrie wants you,” Meg announced the moment she opened the door.
“Why?”
“She’s got summat to tell you.”
Becky frowned and shook her head. “I can’t leave Bubbe, she’s really bad today. Papa told me to stay home with her.”
“I’ll keep an eye on ‘er while I’m clearing up the breakfast pots.” She peeped behind the alcove curtain. “She’s fast asleep. I’ll make ‘er a cup of tea when she wakes up. Go on ‘urry up. I’ll stay on until you bring the cholent back from the bakers.”
“Thanks Meg
.” She dashed up the steps two at a time and met Mrs Lazarus on her way down.
“How are you dear?” She cupped Becky’s face in her hands and looked closely at her black eye.
“Hmmm!” she murmured, tilting Becky’s head first this way and then that. “It’s much better. Does it still hurt?” she asked, letting her go.
“Not so much now.”
“Good. By this time next week, your eye will be quite better and you’ll have forgotten all about it.”
Becky shook her head. “No I won’t, Mrs Lazarus. I’ll never forget what happened, or who did it,” she answered quickly.
“Becky, I…” she hesitated. She looked as if she was going to say something important, then changed her mind. She shivered.
“You’re going to see Mirrie, yes? Well hurry up before you catch cold. I must go now, I’m late. Good Shabbos.”
Mirrie was waiting for her. Her eyes were red and she looked upset.
“What’s up with you?” Becky asked. “If my Auntie Essie was here she’d say you look as if you’d got out of bed on the wrong side! What’s happened? Have you had a row with your mother? She was a bit odd when I saw her just now.”
Mirrie shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just that…well, d’you remember when you told me you were going to run away?”
“Yes, why?”
“I asked Mama if you could come and live with us and she said…” Mirrie stopped and put her hand on her throat as if she had trouble getting the words out.
“She doesn’t want me, does she? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“It wasn’t like that, Becky. Honestly, you’ve got to believe me,” Mirrie pleaded. “Mama likes you very much, you know that. She was so upset when she saw your black eye and everything. It’s…it’s…well, the thing is, she said your father would never give his permission to let you live with a family he doesn’t know very well. He knows Mrs K, but he’s never even met my mother.”
“That’s true. You’re right. He’s never even met your mother,” Becky repeated, as if she was talking to herself.
The two girls sat staring at the flickering flames. The clock ticking away on the dresser was the only sound in the room. Becky’s mind was racing; she was working on a daring new plan.
She sat up suddenly and looked at Mirrie.
“Well, it looks as if I’ll have to start meddling again, doesn’t it?”
Mirrie’s eyes were shining with excitement.
“I know what you’re thinking, Becky.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do, honest I do!”
“And d’you think it’s a good idea?”
“Course I do!” she burst out laughing.
“Right then. We’ve got to be quick. You know what Miss Bennet would say, ‘Now listen carefully girls and pay attention!’ they chanted together.
Not long afterwards the girls stood breathless outside Becky’s door, two pots of cholent on the floor between them.
“Are you quite sure you know what you’ve got to do?” Becky asked, trying to get her breath back.
“For goodness sake,” Mirrie gasped. “How many more times have I got to tell you! I know my instructions inside out, back to front, off by heart.”
Becky bit her nails. “Suppose your mother doesn’t get back in time?” she said, beginning to feel uneasy.
“I keep telling you, she’s only gone to the next building to help the family with the new baby. She told me she’s just going to take them some food and see they’re alright and come straight back home.”
“Well don’t wait for her,” Becky ordered. “Start eating Bubbe’s cholent as soon as you get in. Just say you were starving. Tell her we were talking so much we didn’t notice the cholents got mixed up. She won’t mind. She’ll understand. You’ve just got to make sure that your mother returns Bubbe’s empty pot, not you. Whatever happens don’t let her send you down instead.”
“I know, I know.”
They looked at the pots, then at each other and started to giggle.
“I’m going to wet myself if I go on like this!” Becky spluttered. “Oh, God, I hope it’ll all work out. Papa’ll go mad when he finds out.”
Just then Meg opened the door.
“I thought I heard you two carryin’ on out ‘ere. Bubbe’s awake but she doesn’t want a cup of tea. I’d best be off now. See you next week. Good Shabbos.”
Mirrie bent down and gripped the cloth tied round Bubbe’s pot. She turned to go upstairs.
“Don’t worry, Becky, it’ll be fine. See you later. Good luck!”
“Thanks, I’ll need it.”
Please God, please make it work, she prayed quietly. She carried Mrs Lazarus’s cholent inside and put it carefully on the table. The carrying cloth had yellowed in the heat of the baker’s oven, just like their own. Bubbe wouldn’t know the difference until she ate it. I’ll have to think of something to say then, she thought. She heard groaning from behind the alcove curtain and drew it aside.
“Does your knee hurt?” she asked.
Bubbe sucked in her breath sharply.
“It’ll pass, it’ll pass,” she moaned.
“D’you want something to eat, or a hot drink?”
“Nothing, dear, not now. Just leave me. It’ll pass.”
Becky tidied her bedclothes and closed the curtains. She felt sorry for Bubbe, but relieved she wasn’t hungry. Moments later she heard footsteps.
As soon as Papa and Yossie walked in she put her finger to her lips to warn them. “Shhh!” she whispered, “Bubbe’s resting.”
She waited for Papa to wash his hands, recite the blessings, and hand round the challah. Then with trembling hands she lifted the lid off Mrs Lazarus’s piping hot cholent. They breathed in the wonderful aroma of the savoury stew.
“Mmmm! What a lovely smell,” Yossie drooled. “Hurry up, Becky, my stomach’s rumbling.”
Becky heaped the stew on to their plates, making sure that Papa had a generous portion of dumplings.
The cholent was cooked to perfection. She could tell from the way they ate that Papa and Yossie thought so too.
“I can’t understand it,” Papa said quietly, slicing a dumpling in half. “I just can’t understand,” he repeated, “how your grandmother managed to make such a wonderful cholent, when she’s not been well. She’s even made my favourite dumplings. We haven’t had them for ages.”
Becky blushed. Oy vey! I’m sure I’ll be in big trouble when he finds out that I’ve been meddling again, she thought.
“More please,” Yossie held out his plate. Becky dished out a second helping for him and Papa, and put some aside in a small pot for Bubbe. When the last of the gravy had been mopped up with bread and their plates scraped clean, Papa said grace and Becky cleared the table. She looked at the clock and then at her father. Don’t go to sleep now, please stay awake, she prayed.
Becky’s eyes kept going back to the clock as if they were drawn there by a magnet. The time seemed to stand still. She strained to listen out for footsteps on the stairs. A knock on the door made her jump.
“Who can that be?” Papa asked, half rising from his chair. “We’re not expecting anyone.”
“I’ll go, Papa, I’ll go. I expect it’s someone who wants you to read a letter, or translate something,” Becky lied, trying to sound casual. She longed to dash across the room, but forced herself to walk.
Mrs Lazarus stood smiling in the doorway. She held Bubbe’s empty cholent pot in one hand and a plate of biscuits in the other. Mirrie stood behind her, as if she was hiding.
“Oh, Mrs Lazarus, Good Shabbos, come in,” Becky said, pretending to be surprised.
“Papa, this is Mrs Lazarus,” Becky said nervously, “Mrs K’s niece and my friend Mirrie’s mother.” Papa stood up. He looked embarrassed.
“Good Shabbos,” he mumbled.
“Good Shabbos. I’m very sorry to disturb you, Mr Feldman,” Mrs Lazarus said, putting the biscuits and the pot on the tabl
e, “but I came to explain that there’s been some mistake. My cholent…” Before she could finish, there was a sharp cry of pain from the alcove. Becky quickly parted the curtains.
“Bubbe, what’s the matter?”
“Oy vey! Oy vey!” Bubbe gasped. “Such stabbing pains!” she groaned, rubbing her knees.
“Let me help your grandmother, Becky. Have you got some wintergreen, Mrs Feldman?” Mrs Lazarus asked.
Bubbe shook her head.
“It’s the best thing for arthritis, it helps to get the inflammation down. I’ve got a tin upstairs. I’ll rub some on for you. D’you mind if I send Mirrie for it?” she asked Papa.
“That’s kind of you,” he murmured. “Thank you.”
“Mirrie, bring me the strips of red flannel cloth. They’re in the second drawer of the dresser. The wintergreen’s on the top somewhere.”
“What’s wintergreen?” Mirrie asked.
“It’s an ointment in a small, brown tin. Now where did I put it?” She thought for a moment. “Oh yes, I remember now. It’s in the blue box on the right hand side of the dresser. You’ll see it, Mirrie, it’s just below my picture of Pochep. D’you know where I mean?”
Mirrie nodded.
“Be quick, then.”
Mrs Lazarus wasted no time. She gently removed the stone hot water bottle from Bubbe’s bed and unwrapped the cloth.
“This could do with some more hot water,” she announced.
“I’ll fill it,” Papa said quickly, glad to be doing something useful.
Soon after, Mirrie returned with the ointment and the strips of red flannel cloth. Mrs Lazarus gently massaged Bubbe’s knees with wintergreen and used the strips for bandages.
“There now, Mrs Feldman. I’m sure that’ll ease the pain,” she said. “I’ll leave the tin here for you.”
“That’s very good of you, my dear,” Bubbe managed a smile. “It feels easier already.”
“Thank you, Mrs Lazarus, come and warm yourself,” Papa said, moving a chair near the fire. “Becky, will you make some more tea?”
“Yes Papa,” Becky replied. Mirrie rushed to help, happy to be kept busy. They handed round tea and biscuits, not daring to look at each other or show their feelings. Becky glanced quickly at Yossie who was grinning from ear to ear. Had he guessed she’d switched the cholents? From now on, her little brother must be watched very closely!