Hold On to Hope

by Jean Fullerton

‘Your fucking wife threw me out of her poxy—’

  ‘What do you mean “my wife”? Where have you been?’ Freddie eyes took on a flint-like glint as he stood up.

  Before she could stop herself, Aggie took a step back. There was a snigger from the men watching her.

  She steeled herself and looked Freddie square in the eye. ‘It’s a free country, ain’t it? Miserable cow.’ She spat on the floor. ‘Told me to sling me hook. Me! She was lucky I didn’t rip her face off with me bare hands. She even threatened to get the cop—’

  ‘Coppers!’ He grasped her upper arms and shook her. ‘You stupid bitch. I’ve got a ton of gear hidden in the stable.’

  Aggie wrenched herself free. ‘You’re hurt—’

  His fist smashed into her face and she crumpled onto the sawdust-covered floor. Bile burnt the back of her throat and stars popped in the corner of her vision.

  ‘I’d be doing a whole lot more than fucking hurting you if the rozzers had stumbled on the stash.’ He picked up the bottle and drained it in a couple of gulps. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Gritting her teeth, Aggie forced the blackness crowding her mind to flee. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she said, in her little-girl voice.

  ‘Why should I? It’s none of your business.’ Freddie glanced at himself in the wall mirror and smoothed his hair. ‘It’s for the top man to say what’s what and who’s who. Ain’t it, fellas?’

  There was a chorus of ‘Yes, boss’ and ‘Too true’.

  Aggie’s eyes narrowed. She’d like to tell him to go fuck himself and that if it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn’t be top man. It was her who put the ex-mariners to work the river, pick-locks cracking the warehouses and the creepers slipping into houses. It was her who walked miles fencing easily identifiable articles so the police couldn’t find them. And wasn’t it her idea to split the haul and store it in different places so even if the rozzers found one hoard they weren’t out of pocket? And the infamous Black Eagle Gang! That was a bloody laugh. If it were up to Freddie, they’d spend all night drinking themselves insensible. But she daren’t. There were a dozen trollops ready to jump into her place and then where would she be? Staring up at Moody’s ceiling with a yokel jigging on her bones, that’s where.

  Forcing a tear, Aggie struggled to her feet. ‘Oh, Freddie, don’t be ’arsh with me.’ She pressed herself into him and wound her arms around his neck. ‘I’ve been such a silly girly, Freddie, but only cos I was afraid to lose you and if that happened, I’d throw myself in the river. Straight up, I would.’

  ‘Course you would . . . but as there was no ’arm done, I’ll let it pass this time but,’ he grabbed her face with his black-nailed hand, ‘if you go snooping around the shop again you won’t have to throw yourself in the river cos I’ll sling you in myself. Do you hear?’

  Looking as contrite as she could with her cheeks squeezed together, Aggie nodded.

  ‘Good.’ He let go of her and glanced around. ‘Mary, gis’ another bottle.’

  Chapter Twenty

  As Jonathan turned the corner the full force of the storm ripped his umbrella inside out. Although it was only nine o’clock in the evening, Cable Street was all but deserted. Usually, on his walk home from the bi-weekly meeting of the local Geographical Society, he had to weave his way through the drunks, hawkers and prostitutes that frequented the main thoroughfare; however, the storm had cleared the street more thoroughly than any police patrol ever could.

  He closed his damaged umbrella, flipped up his collar and turned his face away from the wind. He managed to step over dirty torrents of water and avoid a waterfall from a broken gutter above but as he got to the top of Gravel Lane, he was drenched by a high arc of water thrown on the pavement by a hansom cab. Jonathan stepped back into a doorway just as the door opened. He turned and found himself looking at Kate Ellis.

  She was dressed in her usual workaday blue gown, with a short jacket over it and a knitted russet-coloured shawl framing her face.

  ‘Good evening, Captain Quinn, and if you’ll excuse me the liberty, what on earth are you doing out on such a night?’

  He raised his hat and a stream of cold water tipped down the back of his neck. ‘Good evening, Mrs Ellis. And I could very well ask you the same question.’

  ‘I just popped over to collect my pan,’ she replied, holding up a battered pot.

  ‘And I’ve just been to a very pleasant evening listening to a talk about the tribes of the Amazon but now,’ he brushed the water from his shoulders, ‘I feel as if I’ve swum across it.’

  Kate gave a throaty laugh. ‘It’s raining fit to baptise you, that’s for sure. But you’re soaked through. The shop’s only a step or two away – why don’t you come and sit out the storm?’

  ‘I couldn’t intrude on you and your family,’ he replied.

  She waved away his protest. ‘The children are asleep and I’ve only my own company. You’ll not be putting me out.’ She stepped closer to avoid the drips from the lintel above. For both their sakes he knew he should say no to her offer. There was an awkward pause.

  ‘If you’re sure it’s no trouble,’ he said finally.

  ‘None whatsoever. Now come on before we’re both washed into the Thames.’ She lifted her skirts and tiptoed between the puddles around the corner to Kate’s Kitchen. After a moment’s hesitation, Jonathan followed.

  Within minutes they were standing in the back hall of the shop with rainwater pooling around their feet. Jonathan removed his hat and slipped off his coat. He went to hook them up and noticed Joe’s and Ella’s school coats.

  What was he thinking?

  He turned. ‘Thank you for your kind offer, Mrs Ellis, b—’

  ‘Give them here,’ she said, taking his coat and hat. ‘They can dry by the fire while I make you a coffee, and there’s a slice or two of walnut cake that needs eating before it goes stale.’

  A burst of rain hit the quarter-glazed door behind him.

  He watched her swish pleasantly towards the parlour door at the end of the hall. Jonathan slowly followed her.

  ‘Rest your bones,’ she said, nodding towards the chair by the parlour fire. ‘I’ll just pop up and check that Ella and Joe are all right.’

  She reappeared a few moments later and went into the shop.

  He rested back and watched her move to and fro through the open scullery door as she made his coffee and cut his cake. This is how it should be, he thought. The woman you love looking after you at the end of a long day. It was worth more than all the treasures of the Orient.

  Kate returned carrying the blue-patterned mug she always gave him and a plate with two thick slices of cake. Jonathan stood up.

  ‘There you go,’ she said, placing the cup and plate on the three-legged stool beside his chair.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

  He waited to resume his seat until she had sat down in the chair opposite and placed a darning basket on the floor beside her.

  He took a sip of coffee, unsure what to say next. ‘If I’m to be a prisoner of the weather, would you help to pass the time by telling me about your family? Where did they come from in Ireland?’

  Kate smile shyly, which accentuated the dimple in her cheek. ‘Well, Mam and Pa came from Kinsale in the south – they came here a year or two after they were wed. My brother Patrick was born there but the rest of us, me, Mattie . . .’

  Jonathan managed to grasp which children belonged to whom in her immediate family but lost track completely of the numerous Bridies, Marys, Pats and Mickeys scattered around the globe. But it didn’t matter. He was content to watch her eyes flash with mirth as she spoke.

  ‘So you see, no matter where you roam, Captain, you’ll be sure to bump into a Nolan from the old country in your travels.’ She sat back in her chair. ‘What about yours?’

  ‘Mine are very dull,’ he replied.

  Kate’s eyes twinkled. ‘Now, Captain Quinn, you don’t think I’ll be letting you get away with that
, do you?’

  Jonathan smiled. ‘I have only one sister . . .’

  He skimmed over his father’s animosity, told her about his time in the army and found himself telling her little stories he’d all but forgotten. He enjoyed the sight of her breathless amazement as he described the sunrise over the Himalayas, the ancient stone temple deep in tropical forests and the white palace built by a prince as a tomb for his beloved wife.

  ‘What an exciting life you’ve had,’ she said, when he’d finished.

  ‘It was, but hard, too. I can’t tell you the times I’ve slept rough and eaten tinned food.’

  Kate laughed. ‘But you loved every minute of it, didn’t you?’

  ‘You have me there,’ he chuckled. ‘I did. Every blooming moment except seeing good men slaughtered.’

  Her eyes flickered on to his patch. ‘It must have hurt something fierce,’ she said tenderly.

  ‘The devil it did,’ he replied. ‘The surgeon had to keep me drunk and strapped to the bed for five days while I was out of my mind with the pain.’

  ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘Our company had just waded across the Alma River when we came under attack from a gun emplacement on a small hillock. Our commander ordered us to attack and we surged up the hill. The gun was stoutly defended by a dozen or so Russian artillery soldiers, and within minutes of cresting the hill we were engaged in close hand-to-hand fighting. I wrestled a grizzly-looking chap to the ground and was just about to disarm him when he wrenched his gun free. He aimed at my head and I only just knocked the barrel away as he fired. The powder ignited against my left temple. All I remember was a flash of light then a heat like the fires of hell. I managed to stay conscious long enough to finish him off with my bayonet. The next thing I remember was waking up in Scutari Hospital with my eyes swathed in bandages.’

  Kate crossed herself. ‘Sweet Mary.’

  ‘The surgeon said I was fortunate. And that the heat from the exploding gunpowder seared the flesh to stop it corrupting.’

  She looked horrified. ‘But another inch and . . .’

  ‘I never would have met you,’ he said quietly.

  Kate looked confused and Jonathan took hold of himself. He was being reckless. He should go before he did something foolish. He drained the last of his coffee and rose to his feet. ‘How rude of me to stay so long. You’ve been up since first light and must be tired.’

  Kate stood up in front of him. It would take just a dip of his head for him to kiss her. Instead he held out his empty cup.

  ‘Thank you. I think it’s easing up,’ he said, ignoring the rain still driving against the window.

  ‘Your coat should be dry,’ she replied, still staring up at him.

  ‘Yes.’ He made no move to retrieve it.

  She took the cup and their fingers touched. She looked up at him from under her lashes and he caught his breath.

  Leave, Jonathan. Now!

  She went to walk past him but he caught her arm and she turned. He slid his arm around her waist and drew her to him. She looked surprised but didn’t pull away.

  He smiled down at her and studied her face for a moment then pressed his lips onto her. She raised her hands and placed them on his chest then her mouth opened under his. He kissed her deeply, savouring the feel of her in his arms, then he lifted his head. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, Kate.’

  Somehow, Kate managed to override the pleasure of being in Jonathan’s arms and forced her mind to work. She pushed him away.

  ‘You shouldn’t because —’

  ‘You’re married?’ His expression softened as he stared down at her. ‘It’s wrong, I know, but I can’t help myself. Being close to you makes me lose all reason.’

  ‘Captain Quinn, I . . . I . . .’

  He went to kiss her again but Kate held him off.

  ‘You mustn’t,’ she said.

  For one moment she thought he would brush aside her protest but then he released her.

  ‘Forgive me.’ He snatched up his coat and hat. ‘I should go before I forget myself again.’

  He turned and Kate caught his arm. ‘Jonathan.’

  Their gazes locked for two heartbeats then he threw his coat on the floor and took her in his arms. Kate melted into him, pressing her breasts into his hard chest as her hands slipped upwards and around his neck.

  ‘Say my name again.’

  ‘Jonathan,’ she whispered.

  He ran his fingers lightly along her jaw, through her hair and then gripped the back of her head. Kate’s mouth opened and his closed over hers in a demanding kiss.

  He lifted his head. ‘Oh, Kate, it’s madness, I know, but day and night I can’t keep you from my mind. I want you. I—’

  Kate stopped his words with her lips. He lifted her off her feet, pressing her to him. She clung to him. He kissed her brow while her lips grazed the rough squareness of his chin. He walked her backwards until they reached the table set against wall. He laid her gently on it and arched over her. Kate slid her hands under his jacket and ran them up the contours of his chest.

  Jonathan shrugged off his jacket, undid his cravat and top buttons then covered her with his body again. His fingers fumbled with the fastening at her neck. Kate twisted her head aside to help him release it. His lips found the base of her throat.

  ‘I need you, Kate,’ he said, opening the front of her blouse and kissing his way across the swell of her. As his hand cupped her breast, Kate sighed and her head rolled to one side. Her half-opened eyes focused on Joe’s school cap sitting on the sideboard. She felt as if someone had thrown iced water over her. What was she doing? She pushed Jonathan away.

  ‘Stop. Please. This is wrong.’

  ‘I know,’ Jonathan replied, working his way down her bare shoulder. ‘But I can’t help myself. It’s like a raging fire burning in my chest.’ He tried to capture her lips again but Kate twisted out of his embrace and stood up.

  ‘Sweet Mary, I made a solemn vow before God that I can’t break.’ She balled her fists until the nails dug into her palms. ‘Please understand – I can’t!’

  Jonathan stared, unseeing and breathing heavily, for a few moments before his focus returned.

  ‘You’re right. Forgive me. I let my own needs cloud my judgement. But is there no hope for us?’ he asked quietly.

  Tears sprang into Kate’s eyes and she bit her lip to hold them back. ‘What hope can there be?’ she replied, flatly. ‘I’m married and there is nothing to be done.’

  He raked his hands through his hair. ‘But if you weren’t?’

  Kate looked away. ‘Then perhaps we . . .’

  He strode over to her and took her hands. ‘We could go away. I have money. We could start afresh with Ella and Joe.’

  ‘And what if Freddie found us? He’d take the children from me and no one would think him wrong to do so. And if he didn’t catch up with us, what about any children we might have? They’d be labelled bastards and suffer their whole lives because of our folly. I tell you, I’ve learnt the hard way how a moment’s pleasure can cause a lifetime of pain. I’m sorry – I’m so sorry – but you should leave.’

  Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. ‘Of course.’

  He turned and headed for the door. Kate watched him cross the parlour and forced herself not to follow him. The back-door latch clicked.

  ‘Jonathan!’ Kate dashed after him but the yard was empty. She staggered out into the open space where she stood, hollow-eyed, then slowly sank to her knees among the pools of water left from the rain.

  She hugged herself and imagined it was his embrace. She ran her fingers over her lips, remembering the feel of him. But it could never be. She’d made her loveless bed with Freddie seven years ago and now she had to lie in it. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  The organ struck up for the last hymn and the congregation rose to their feet. Jonathan did the same and although he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, he glanced across at Kate. She was looking at
him. They stared at each other for a moment then she turned away.

  As the vicar and choir processed out Jonathan sang the last chorus then knelt and bowed his head.

  Hadn’t he learnt his lesson? First Louise and now Kate Ellis. He should have stuck to his original intent and avoided becoming emotionally embroiled yet again. But he was in command of his emotions, wasn’t he, and would stand firm until the madness had passed.

  Jonathan crossed himself, stood up and made his way to the end of the row.

  ‘Oh, Mr Quinn!’ Mabel’s shrill voice called from behind him.

  Jonathan turned and forced a smile. ‘Miss Puttock.’

  She put her hand on her chest. ‘Wasn’t that a wonderful service?’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘Indeed.’

  Over Mabel’s head he saw Kate was talking to an elderly woman.

  ‘And I thought the choir were on fine form, too.’ Mabel edged closer and her lacy skirts brushed against him. ‘Especially those dear little boys in the front.’

  ‘It’s true. They were in fine voice.’

  Kate finished her conversation and was walking towards them.

  ‘I do so love children,’ Mabel continued, smiling up at him shyly and blushing.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Ellis,’ Jonathan said, stepping around Mabel and into Kate’s path.

  Kate halted. ‘Good morning, Captain Quinn.’ She glanced at the young woman beside him. ‘And to you, Miss Puttock.’

  She started to walk on.

  ‘And how are the children?’ Jonathan asked.

  ‘Very well, thank you.’ Kate regarded him steadily.

  They stared at each other for a moment then Kate looked away. ‘If you’d excuse me, I have to get home.’

  ‘Of course,’ Mabel replied, smiling benevolently at her. ‘Don’t let us detain you any longer.’

  ‘Miss Puttock. Captain.’ Kate’s eyes flickered over his face once again then she walked away.

  ‘Good day, Mrs Ellis,’ Jonathan called after her as she hurried towards the back of the church.

  Miss Puttock sighed. ‘It’s so sad to see Kate Ellis looking thin and old, especially as she was once considered a local beauty. But Annie and Jim are such sweet children and—’