by Maggie Hope
‘I’m looking for Ada really, Ada Leigh. Did you know her? She told me that Eliza was a good friend of hers. They used to work together.’
‘Oh, aye, of course I know Ada.’ Mrs Rutherford gave Johnny an appraising glance before deciding to let him in. ‘I tell you what, come away in for a minute and I’ll tell you.’ She led the way into the front room. Johnny was not the sort you took into the kitchen, she thought. Anyone could see he was a gentleman. She motioned him to sit down on the settle and sat down in the wooden rocker opposite him.
‘Aye, poor lass, she was in a real state. I don’t care what she’d done, they had no right to knock her about like they did. No right at all. Maybe she had been out with a lad – it wasn’t you, was it?’ She looked suspiciously at him. ‘If you earned her that good hiding you ought to be ashamed of yourself, her poor face was all bruised.’
‘She did nothing wrong!’ Johnny was getting angry again. ‘We went for a walk, that’s all. A walk in the park. I knew her when I lodged with her aunt in Finkle Street, she was only a child. That vicious woman, I’ll have the law on her!’
‘Nay, lad, they are her legal guardians, the Parkers. They’ll say she was running wild. I don’t think the law would do any good.’
‘Hmm. Well, I intend to get to the bottom of this, find out what happened. Where did she go? I’ll have to find her, make sure she’s come to no harm.’
‘Well, she told Eliza she was going to Durham. That’s where she lived when she was a bairn, I think.’
Johnny bit his lip, considering what to do. He could go to West Auckland to see if Eliza knew any more, but it was already getting late. He could go to Durham and look for Ada, see what he could find out there, but he couldn’t go today, he had to get home. He felt helpless but it would have to wait – until the weekend, at least, he thought, then he would have more time. Johnny stood and held out his hand to the old lady.
‘At any rate, thank you for your help. If you give me Eliza’s address I’ll try to see her and find out if she knows any more. Or maybe you could ask her to write to me? If I leave my address and the postage?’
Driving back to Middlesbrough, he could think of nothing but Ada and the trouble he seemed to have caused for her. The sooner he found her the better. He resolved to further his enquiries in Durham at the weekend.
Chapter Ten
In Durham, Ada was catching glimpses of a very different life to the one she was used to: it was another world. Virginia and her family were so kind and friendly.
‘That’s one thing about the doctor and the missus too,’ Cook remarked to Ada while she was having a cup of tea with her feet up by the range and Ada was ironing on the kitchen table. They treat servants as people, not like most folks. There’s no side to them, none at all. But don’t you go taking advantage, like,’ she added.
Dr Gray, who had leanings towards the Fabian Society, had no objections at all to Virginia bringing Ada to the front of the house and teaching her her letters, so Ada need not have worried about that.
‘A very nice thing for you to do,’ he said to Virginia approvingly. ‘It will give you an interest, too, until you’re well enough to go back to school. But be careful not to overtire yourself.’
Ada had never been in such fine surroundings as the day she was taken in to see Dr and Mrs Gray, and at first she was nervous and hesitant about sitting on the grand upholstered furniture. But Virginia and her parents acted so naturally that Ada just had to relax. Even so, she was a little tongue-tied in the presence of the doctor and she was glad when she and Virginia were alone together.
When the weather was fine, as it was for most of the summer, a picnic lunch was served to the girls in the garden. It was a far cry from the penny dips Ada usually bought. There was often chicken and salad or even fresh salmon, for Virginia had been ill and her appetite needed tempting. It was almost as nice for Ada when it rained, for the two girls sat in the conservatory in wicker easy chairs with plump cushions.
Bye, it’s really grand, Ada was thinking one day as she finished the exercise Virginia had given her and looked up and out over the garden. She handed the paper over to the other girl, smiling hesitantly.
‘My goodness, you are doing well.’ Virginia was truly surprised and proud of her pupil. ‘You’re learning quickly.’
Ada smiled, gratified. The daily lessons and laborious study in the privacy of her bedroom during the long, light summer evenings were having their desired effect, she thought. It was worth the hard work.
‘Anyone would think you’d had some lessons before,’ Virginia continued, smiling at her pupil. Virginia looked a picture in her white muslin dress decorated with blue ribbons which set off her fair hair and complexion. The fresh air and sunshine were beginning to have a beneficial effect on her and her cheeks showed a hint of rose. The contrast with Ada in her workaday black serge was striking. Ada’s wealth of black, curly hair looked even darker against Virginia’s blonde looks but if anything her skin was even whiter than her friend’s, for no amount of sun seemed to affect it.
‘I did have someone teach me once but it was years ago and not very much,’ Ada confided. ‘I thought I’d forgotten all of it but it has helped.’ She bent her head, thinking of Johnny.
‘Someone else gave you lessons?’ Virginia was curious, not least because she had noticed Ada’s softened expression and air of sadness when she spoke of it. ‘Ada! I do believe it was a boy. Who was it? Oh, go on, tell me all about him.’ Virginia’s eyes danced with mischief as she saw Ada’s embarrassment.
Ada blushed and bit her lip. ‘It was a boy, someone I knew years ago. He went to live in Middlesbrough so the lessons stopped.’
‘Oh, what a shame! Didn’t you see him again?’
‘Yes. Yes, I did. I saw him this year.’ Ada allowed herself the luxury of dwelling on Johnny. ‘Eeh, he’s lovely, Virginia, tall and handsome with auburn hair and smiling, green eyes.’ She sighed. ‘But I don’t suppose I’ll see him again. Since I moved to Durham he won’t even know where I am.’
‘You could write to him. Oh, come on,’ Virginia said impulsively, ‘we’ll write to him now, how’s that?’
Ada stood up abruptly, her face set. Formally she thanked Virginia for the lunch and picked up her sacking apron. ‘No,’ she said, ‘No, thank you. I’ve got to get back to work now, thank you very much, Miss Virginia.’
‘I thought we’d agreed it would be plain Virginia,’ the other girl pouted.
‘Plain Virginia, eh? Well, if that’s what you want to be called it’s all right with me.’ Both girls started and turned to where the teasing voice came from. A dark-haired young man was lounging against the doorway of the house.
‘Tom!’ Virginia sprang up, holding out her arms to him. ‘Tom! We weren’t expecting you till next week.’ She ran lightly over to him and kissed him soundly on the cheek.
‘Hey, steady on there, plain Virginia!’ He laughed and glanced across at Ada, intrigued by the slim figure and dark beauty which the rough working clothes couldn’t hide.
‘Oh, Ada. This is my brother, Tom. I’ve told you about him, haven’t I? He’s learning to be a doctor in Newcastle. Tom, this is Ada and I’m teaching her to read and write.’
Ada blushed yet again as Virginia let out her secret. She hated anyone to know of her lack of literacy. Virginia noticed and was immediately contrite.
‘Well, it isn’t her fault, Tom,’ she said lamely. ‘She didn’t get a chance to go to school.’
Tom raised his eyebrows at this – surely everyone went to school now? But he smiled and nodded to Ada, who began backing towards the kitchen garden. ‘I hope I’m not driving you away?’ he asked.
‘Oh no, I have to go.’ Ada was suddenly conscious of her local accent, such a contrast to the cultured speech of brother and sister. She hurried away, feeling sad, shabby and confused. The closeness of the pair was something she could only look on and wonder about. Indeed, they inhabited a different world. Suddenly her heart longed for El
iza, the only friend she had who came from the same world as she did herself. Eliza understood her, she would understand her diffidence about writing to Johnny.
I’ll try to get through to see Eliza, Ada decided as she came to Elvet Bridge and stood for a moment, watching the students rowing their boats in the water below. They looked so serious, heaving away, with the cox calling, ‘Pull! Pull!’ through his megaphone and the boats gliding swiftly over the surface. Ada wondered if that was all they had to worry about, winning some boat race. Sighing, she went on her way, her mind made up. She would try to visit Eliza. She should be able to avoid going anywhere near Tenters Street now that Eliza lived in West Auckland. She was pleased that she had asked Virginia to help her with the card giving her friend Mrs Dunne’s address. Eliza had written back, telling of her move back to her own parish. Oh, what a pity it was that Eliza didn’t live somewhere near! She would have loved to talk things over with her. Eliza was so full of down-to-earth common sense.
At that moment Eliza Maxwell looked flushed and harassed, wisps of hair falling over her forehead as she clutched a screaming Miles to her breast and paced up and down the kitchen. Bertie, his eyes large and anxious in his pale face, was standing by the back door of the house in Front Street, West Auckland, his fists clenched by his sides.
‘Go away!’ The yell burst out of him. ‘Leave my mam alone!’
Eliza rushed over to him and pulled him away from the door, pushing him before her into the front room. ‘Eeh, Bertie, don’t take on like that, pet. The nasty man will go away in a minute, just so long as we take no notice of him, man.’
Though it was early afternoon, the pub next door to Eliza was full of men off shift or simply taking the day off. The smell of pipe smoke and beer drifted through the door to the yard and in through the badly fitting door to Eliza’s cottage, for the yard was common to both properties. Eliza held Bertie to her and, on her shoulder, Miles hiccuped softly and fell into an exhausted sleep. The noise from the yard continued unabated.
‘Howay, lass, let us in! You won’t be sorry, we’ll make it worth your while. We got the brass.’ The hammering on the door which had wakened Miles and set him crying in fright stopped for a minute. Bertie lifted his head and looked up at his mother.
‘Have they gone, Mam?’
Eliza patted his head. Bye, she thought, the poor lad was getting in a right state. Anger welled up in her as she shook her head. She could hear the whispered consultation going on in the yard; there must be two or three of them this time.
‘Will I go for the polis?’ Bertie whispered. She shook her head as another man started trying to wheedle her to open the back door, in a voice she recognised.
‘Eliza? Howay, hinny, let us in. Nobody will know, and we know you could use the money.’ The slurred voice broke off as one of his drinking mates burst into a fit of sniggering. As Eliza walked to the back door, Bertie still clinging to her side, she heard the drunken giggling.
‘Not just the brass you could be doing with, eh, Eliza Maxwell? How long is it since you had a man? Let us in and we’ll show –’
‘Get away from my door! I’ll call the polis, I will! And you, don’t think I don’t know who you are, I’ll let on to your missuses. Do you hear me, Albert Jones? And you –’
Eliza had no idea who the others were so she stopped in mid-sentence and listened. But her words had already had their effect on their fuddled minds.
‘Aw, gan on then, dirty hoor! Howay, lads, we’ll have another pint. There’s more to beer than a hoor any road!’ Eliza listened, holding her breath as the men retreated down the yard to the pub. The hush was disturbed only by Miles, who whimpered in his sleep and moved restlessly. Maybe he’s teething, Eliza thought listlessly. She felt utterly drained by the incident. What would happen if men actually got into the house? Eeh, it was awful! Even going out to the yard was taking a chance with that lot in the pub.
‘Will I go for the polis now?’ Bertie loosed his hold on her skirt and stared earnestly at her.
‘No, no, pet.’ Eliza smiled gently at him. ‘I tell you what, we’ll all go out, eh? We’ll go across to the chemist’s and get some gripe water for Miles. Then we might go for a walk down by the beck, you like to do that.’ Going out of the front door which led directly onto the green was safe at least, she thought bitterly. Those men might be drunk but they still had enough sense not to be seen openly chasing after a widow woman. Carrying the baby and with Bertie trotting by her side, Eliza walked over the green to the chemist’s shop.
‘Why, hello, Eliza!’
Eliza turned at the sound of the familiar voice, her feeling of depression lifting as she saw her old neighbour from the railway cottages up the line.
‘Hannah! Eeh, it’s grand to see you!’
‘And you an’ all. And I see you’ve got the new babby. Is it a lad or a lass?’
‘A lad.’ Proudly Eliza showed Miles off to Hannah. ‘I’m that glad to see you, I am. I don’t know many people in the village, what with living up there on the line.’
‘You went to Bishop Auckland, though, didn’t you? Didn’t you go to your auntie’s? Bye, that woman who’s come next door now isn’t half as nice as you were. Eeh, this is Bertie an’ all? He’s grown a bit since I saw him, mind.’ Hannah bent down to the boy, who was gazing gravely up at her.
‘Do you remember your Auntie Hannah, pet?’
Bertie shook his head.
Hannah laughed. ‘Shy, are you, pet? Bye, but he’s like his da, isn’t he, Eliza? Such a good bairn an’ all, different to that tribe next door now – cheeky, why, they’re brassent fond. I was just saying –’ Hannah broke off, forgetting what she was going to say completely, her mouth dropping open in shock, for Bertie had turned to his mother and in a loud, piping voice asked her a question.
‘Mam, what’s a hoor?’
‘It’s bad to say that!’ Eliza said sharply. ‘What will Auntie Hannah think if you say naughty words?’ Bertie’s lip quivered and he stuck his finger in his mouth, but for once Eliza was not sensitive to his feelings. She looked at her old neighbour’s shocked face. Hannah was a chapel woman, wasn’t she?
‘Eeh, I don’t know where he heard that, Hannah,’ she said, her face red with embarrassment.
‘It was that man in the yard, Mam.’ Bertie was being helpful.
‘Bertie! Hold your tongue.’ Eliza was fairly shouting now and Bertie burst into tears. ‘We share the yard with the Rose and Crown, you know.’ She looked anxiously at Hannah, who stepped back as though distancing herself from the little family.
‘Aye,’ said Hannah. ‘Aye, well, I’ve to be getting back now, it’s a fair walk back home.’ She hesitated for a moment and Eliza knew she was in two minds about asking her up. ‘It’s been nice seeing you any road, Eliza, mebbe I’ll see you again …’ she finished lamely.
‘Aye. Yes.’ Eliza watched her as she crossed over the green and hurried up the road which led to Spring Gardens. Then she bent down and dried Bertie’s tears. It wasn’t the bairn’s fault, she thought, it was living in that house that did it.
‘Howay then, Bertie, never mind now. We’ll go down by the beck for that walk. Be a good lad now and I’ll get you a stick of liquorice. You like that, don’t you?’
Straightening up, she stared over at the Rose and Crown and her cottage beside it. When she had first come back to West Auckland she had thought the rent was low because the locals believed the cottage was haunted. It had been rented by a murderess, Mary Anne Cotton. Most of her family had died of arsenic poisoning before she was arrested and carted off to Durham Gaol, eventually to be hung. Eliza wasn’t afraid of ghosts, but she was afraid of the drunken men in the yard. No wonder no one wanted to live there. If only she could afford another place!
They walked along by the side of the beck, the same beck which ran near the railway cottages up the line, the Gaunless. And after a while Eliza regained her normal outlook on life. She chuckled; it had been funny really, Bertie saying that in front of H
annah. It was a lovely day and she found a sheltered spot hidden from the path by a large oak tree. There she fed baby Miles while Bertie ran about picking daisies and dandelions and bringing them to her.
‘Eeh, they’re lovely, Bertie!’ she said, smiling at him as he proffered the flowers, heads mostly – he hadn’t yet realised it was better to pick them with stalks. ‘We’ll take them home and put them on the windowsill in a jar.’ Her heart filled with love for him; she shouldn’t have shouted at him. Who cared about friends, any road? It was the bairns that mattered. And Ada, of course, Ada was more than a friend.
Chapter Eleven
Lying on top of her bed that night, weary but wakeful, Ada was unusually restive. The night was hot and oppressive and the room seemed airless even though she had pushed the sash window open as far as it would go. Sighing, she rose and went over to the washstand. Pouring water into the bowl, she soaked the piece of flannel and held it against her forehead and cheeks, enjoying the coolness of it. She squeezed the cloth out again in the cold water and carried it to the window. Drawing the thin curtains aside, she perched on the ledge and looked down onto the moonlit yard. She moistened the nape of her neck and the top of her breasts. Why did she feel so unsettled? she thought.
She remembered Virginia’s suggestion that she should write to Johnny. Her instinct was to wait until she could write herself, properly, without even Ginny knowing what she had written. It should be private. Her thoughts wandered to Ginny and her brother, Tommy. How lovely it would be to have a family like Ginny’s! But they soon strayed back to Johnny, her idol.
I will wait until I can write the letter myself, then I’ll go to Middlesbrough, she decided. That’ll be best. I’ll work and work at it until I can do it.
Ada had all the cards and letters Johnny had ever written to her and now she ran over to the chest of drawers and got out the bundle from under her one good petticoat. The petticoat had been passed on to her by Virginia; the hem had been torn when Virginia caught it on a bush but Ada had mended it so that you could hardly see the repair.