Hold On to Hope

by Jean Fullerton

  Why did he even have to justify himself? How many better men had he killed in battle that he should now be troubled by putting an end to the likes of Freddie Ellis? In truth, Freddie was as good as dead anyway for there was no doubt he’d be hanged for murder when he faced the judge. Perhaps he’d just save everyone the trouble.

  Something moved at the edge of his vision. Jonathan turned his head. As he looked at Joe huddled against the chimney, he shuffled forward until his shoulders were clear. He clasped Freddie’s wrist with his other hand. ‘I’ve got you. Just hold on until help arrives.’

  Something banged behind Jonathan. He craned his neck and saw two policemen climbing through a skylight.

  ‘Over here,’ he yelled, as Freddie’s weight tore at his shoulder muscles.

  The officers inched their way across the slippery roof.

  ‘I can’t hold on,’ screamed Freddie, thrashing about madly.

  Jonathan summoned every bit of strength and tightened his grip but Freddie’s hands suddenly slipped from his.

  A scream rose up from the spectators.

  Freddie spread his arms and plummeted. His limbs flopped like a rag doll as he hit the ground and then he lay still. The police in the yard gathered around him to cordon him off from the crowd.

  Jonathan rose to his feet.

  ‘It was a brave effort, sir,’ said one of the constables standing behind him.

  Jonathan climbed up the roof to Joe, who hadn’t moved and continued to cling to the chimney with his eyes tightly closed.

  Jonathan hunkered down beside him and gently placed his arms around the boy’s trembling shoulders.

  ‘It’s over, Joe,’ he said, softly.

  For a second Joe didn’t move but then he flung his arms around Jonathan’s neck and buried his face into his chest. Jonathan held him as he sobbed uncontrollably for a few moments before raising his head.

  ‘Pa?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Joe, but your pa is gone,’ Jonathan replied.

  Joe’s lower lip wobbled and he let out a hiccuppy little sob.

  Jonathan moved a strand of hair from the boy’s eyes. ‘Shall we go and find your mother?’

  Joe nodded.

  Tucking his arm under his legs, Jonathan lifted Joe and carried him towards the open skylight, where the two policemen were waiting to help them down. As he ducked his head under the window frame into the paint-factory attic, Joe looked up.

  ‘Captain Quinn, I was so afraid,’ he said, his arms still tightly clasped around Jonathan’s neck.

  Jonathan smiled down at him. ‘So was I, Joe, so was I.’

  As Kate re-emerged into the yard, she met Patrick at the head of a dozen or so policemen. They had divided into two groups and while half the patrol rounded up the dosshouse lodgers for questioning, the others had stormed to the roof.

  It was only Patrick’s strong arm that had stopped her fainting when first Joe and then Jonathan flew across the space between the two buildings.

  Barely able to breathe, she’d fixed her eyes fixed on the paint factory’s green door.

  Suddenly Jonathan stepped out with Joe in his arms.

  ‘There they are,’ Patrick said.

  But Kate was already halfway across the yard.

  ‘Joe!’ she shouted, dodging past two burly policemen herding the women and children to one side.

  Joe twisted in Jonathan’s arms. ‘Mammy!’ he cried, stretching for her.

  Kate scooped him into her arms and hugged him to her. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips on to his soft hair.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said to Jonathan, wanting to say so much more.

  He smiled down at her tenderly and caressed her back.

  ‘Excuse me.’ They looked around to see the sergeant in charge of the patrol standing behind them. ‘You’ll pardon my intrusion into your grief, Mrs Ellis, but I will need someone to formally identify Mr Ellis.’

  Joe’s arms tightened around Kate’s neck and he buried his face into her shoulder.

  ‘Couldn’t it wait for a few moments?’

  The officer’s moustache moved for side to side. ‘Well, we’d like to move the bo—’

  ‘My sister’s been through enough this morning, officer. I’ll do it,’ Patrick cut in.

  ‘Very good, sir,’ the sergeant replied. ‘If you would follow me.’

  Kate caught Patrick’s arm. ‘Thank you, Pat.’

  His eyes briefly flickered over her and Jonathan and then he followed the officer.

  Kate looked up at Jonathan.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his deep voice rolling over her like a protective blanket.

  ‘I am now.’

  Their gazes locked as unspoken words, thoughts and emotions passed between them.

  ‘Mammy.’ They looked down at Joe. ‘I was frightened on the roof.’

  ‘I’m sure you were.’

  ‘Well, I’ll tell you, son, you were as brave as any soldier I’ve ever commanded.’

  Joe basked in the praise for a moment then looked up with a shimmer of tears on his eyelashes. ‘Captain Quinn tried to pull Pa up to the roof but he couldn’t.’

  A lump caught in Kate’s throat. ‘I know he did.’ She kissed his forehead then raised her eyes to Jonathan’s face. ‘Captain Quinn wouldn’t have done anything else.’

  Jonathan’s expression softened for a moment, then he looked over her head. Kate turned to see Patrick striding towards them followed by his son, Mickey, their brother-in-law Nathaniel and the police sergeant.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Ellis,’ the officer replied. ‘They can’t move—’ He looked at Joe. ‘You know, until the police surgeon arrives. We discovered a woman’s body when they were searching the dosshouse so he’ll have to look at her, too. We don’t know who she is as yet.’

  ‘Her name’s Red Aggie,’ Kate replied, feeling Joe tremble.

  The policeman eyebrows rose. ‘So that’s Red Aggie, is it?’

  Patrick cleared his throat. ‘Well, sergeant, if there’s nothing else, perhaps I can take my sister and her son home?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ the policemen replied. ‘I think no one would doubt that Master Ellis was an unwilling party to his father’s doings but we will want to speak to him in a day or two when he’s recovered. I’ll release him into your custody, Mr Nolan, if you’d come to the station and sign the paperwork.’

  ‘Gladly.’

  The officer studied Kate for a moment and then his gaze drifted up to the man beside her. ‘I shall need a statement from you also . . .’

  ‘Captain Quinn. And I’ll present myself at the station after lunch, if that is convenient.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The officer looked Jonathan over again. ‘And you are the boy’s headmaster, you say?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘And you are also a close friend of the family?’ the officer asked, scrutinising him closely.

  ‘Mrs Ellis supplies the meals for the school and I am acquainted with Mr Nolan through her,’ he replied, holding the officer’s enquiring gaze.

  The sergeant’s heavy eyebrows rose to the middle of his broad forehead. ‘Well, your actions are to be commended. I can’t say I’ve ever heard of a headteacher racing across rooftops to rescue one of their charges.’

  ‘The welfare of the children in my care is my overriding concern, but I hope not to repeat the experience again.’

  ‘Shall we leave the police to their duty and allow Captain Quinn to return to the school?’ Patrick said, looking hard at Kate.

  ‘But . . .’ Kate’s eyes darted from Jonathan to Patrick then back again. Then a sense of calm settled on her that it was over. Joe was safe and so was she, held and cherished by Jonathan. And now they had the time and freedom to order the rest of their lives.

  ‘Yes, we should, Patrick.’ She shifted Joe in her arms. ‘Thank you, Captain Quinn.’

  The tender look she knew so well flitted briefly across Jonathan�
�s face. ‘Not at all, Mrs Ellis,’ he said, touching her shoulder. ‘And please accept my condolences for your loss.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Patrick stepped forward and thrust out his hand. ‘On behalf of my whole family I’d like to thank you once again, Captain Quinn, for rescuing Joe. I’m sure you’ll understand that my wife and I will be caring for my sister and her children until after her husband’s funeral.’

  Jonathan shook his hand. ‘Of course. I would not expect it to be otherwise.’

  ‘And perhaps, Captain Quinn,’ Patrick added as he slipped his arm around Kate, ‘if you should find yourself in Stepney tomorrow you might like to call in and enquire after my sister’s health.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Kate guided her mother up the three stone steps to Patrick’s front door and into the hall. Despite her thick coat, bonnet and knitted gloves, Sarah’s wrinkled face was white with the cold. She, Kate, Mattie and Josie had squeezed into a hansom cab to come back from Christmas-morning Mass while Patrick and Nathaniel walked the children home.

  ‘If you settle Ma in the parlour, Kate, we’ll check on the roast and start the vegetables,’ Josie said, as she and Mattie removed their outdoor clothes.

  ‘Of course.’ Kate hung her mother’s coat alongside her own on the stand then hooked the old woman’s hand in the crook of her arm.

  ‘Come and warm yourself by the fire, Mam,’ she said, leading her into the snug parlour.

  Like last year at Mattie’s, there was a large spruce tree decked in paper chains and sweetmeats along with new glass baubles and tinsel garlands. There were also a number of small candles wired onto the branches ready to be lit when Kate’s large cake, decorated with dried fruit and nuts, was set on the table. As she settled her mother in the chair, Josie came in carrying a tablecloth.

  ‘Do you want any help?’ Kate asked.

  ‘No, we’re fine.’ She exchanged an odd look with Sarah then dashed from the room.

  ‘They’ll manage fine enough without you for this once. Now tell me. Has Patrick sorted out the bank yet?’

  Kate smiled. ‘Yes. We are proper partners at last. All signed and sealed. And I have an account in the East London Mutual Bank with money in it and to celebrate I bought Ella and Joe a whole new set of clothes, a rug for the parlour and this for myself.’ She smoothed her hand over the new moss-green gown with delicate amber flowers printed over it. ‘I’ve never had a new dress before, Ma. And you know, when I handed over the seventeen shillings my hand shook.’

  ‘And grand you look in it. I’m sure there’s a special someone else who’ll think so, too.’ Sarah said, with a twinkle of devilment in her eye.

  Kate lowered her eyes.

  Although she could barely hold herself back from falling into his arms each time they met, for both their sakes, she dare not, especially with Mabel still circling like a vulture and waiting for a chance to expose their love. They contrived to meet almost every day, however briefly, but for propriety’s sake they had to ensure it was where everyone could see them. Even when they discussed the school menu, they did so at the window table at the shop, not in her parlour. After the reports in the papers about how Jonathan rescued Joe, the merest hint that she and Jonathan were involved with each other before Freddie died would have destroyed Jonathan’s reputation. He would have been dismissed from St Katharine’s. And although there wasn’t a soul in Knockfergus who would have shed a tear at Freddie’s passing, the conventions had to be observed. After all, Nolan and Sons was one of the most prosperous haulage companies on the river, and Maguire’s had just bought a second coal yard in Stratford. Kate couldn’t disgrace her family by refusing to wear widow’s weeds for at least three months. The reports in the national newspapers had also brought an unexpected letter from Jonathan’s father and she’d urged him to accept the olive branch. After some deliberation he replied and they planned to meet at his sister’s house again before school resumed.

  She’d been so taken up with helping Joe through the inquests and police inquiries that her own desires took second place but recently, lying alone in her bed, the need to have Jonathan’s arms around her had become almost too much to bear. It was only last week that she’d been able to cast off her mourning garb which meant soon, very soon, she and Jonathan could start to plan their life together.

  A life with Jonathan! A proper life, as his wife without shame. Only a few months ago that had been an impossible dream but . . . perhaps this time next year she would be holding his child in her arms!

  The parlour door burst open and Patrick and Nathaniel, followed by the children, stomped in, filling the hallway with snow and laughter.

  ‘Mattie and Josie are in the kitchen and I think the kettle just boiled,’ Kate called through the open door as she tucked a blanket around her mother’s legs.

  ‘Kettle!’ Patrick said, shrugging off his coat. ‘I can think of something better to warm us. Can’t you, Nat?’

  ‘I certainly can.’

  Ella and Beth came in and squeezed themselves onto the chair in the far corner, then huddled together whispering and giggling.

  Joe dashed into the parlour, his cheeks glowing with the frosty air. ‘Ma, Bertie threw a snowball at me but I dodged it like this.’ He leapt sideways almost knocking over Josie’s prized aspidistra. ‘I chucked one back and it hit him right on his nose.’

  Sarah caught hold of Joe’s hand and pulled him closer. ‘I could eat you, me darling boy, so I could,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek.

  Joe rubbed his cheek vigorously. ‘Grrrrran!’

  Kate and her mother laughed.

  Patrick and Nathaniel went to the sideboard to pour themselves a drink each.

  ‘I wouldn’t say no to a small one,’ Sarah said. ‘Just to ease me joints.’

  Patrick smiled at his mother. ‘Kate?’ he asked, lifting the bottle.

  She shook her head. ‘I’ll wait for a cup of tea.’

  ‘There you go,’ he said, handing Sarah a brandy. ‘Get that down you, Mam.’

  Sarah took a sip. Patrick went to warm the backs of his legs in front of the hearth alongside Nathaniel. When Mickey came in, he helped himself to a tankard of beer from the barrel set up at the end of the dresser under the watchful eye of his father.

  Josie popped her head out of the kitchen door. ‘Go and play upstairs, boys, so you don’t get underfoot.’

  Joe twisted out of Sarah’s embrace and clattered upstairs after his cousins.

  ‘It fair warms me to see Joe back to his old self,’ Sarah said, watching him go.

  Kate followed her gaze. ‘I know.’

  For two months after Freddie’s death there wasn’t a night that went by that Joe didn’t wake screaming. It was only in the last few weeks that she hadn’t had to stay with him each night until he slept.

  Josie bustled in with her sleeves rolled up past her elbows, wearing an apron over her best gown.

  ‘Beth and Ella. Will you get the plates out and put the cutlery in order while Annie and I set the vegetables boiling?’

  ‘Yes, Aunt Josie,’ the girls said in unison as they jumped up and went to the oak dresser at the far end of the room.

  Josie bit her lower lip. ‘I hope we have enough food for all fifteen of us.’

  Kate looked puzzled. ‘Fourteen, you mean.’

  Josie’s neck flushed. ‘Oh . . . oh . . . yes, what am I about? Fourteen, of course.’

  She shot a furtive look at Kate and then dashed out to the kitchen again leaving Kate and Mattie chatting with their mother. After a few moments Nathaniel looked at the clock and finished his drink.

  ‘You’d better call the boys, Pat,’ he said, taking up position behind his wife. Patrick pulled his watch out of his fob pocket. ‘You’re right.’ He drained his glass, too, then crossed to the parlour door and opened it.

  ‘Josie!’ he shouted.

  ‘We’re coming,’ she shouted back from the kitchen.

  ‘Beth, Ella, leave what you’re do
ing and join us.’ The two girls came back in. Mattie ushered her daughter over and Ella came and stood next to Kate.

  ‘Why is Uncle Pat calling us down?’ Ella asked. ‘The table’s not even out yet.’

  Sarah’s wrinkled face lifted into a girly smile. ‘Just wait, sweetheart,’ she said, hugging her granddaughter.

  Patrick went to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Tidy yourselves and come down, lads,’ he yelled up.

  There was a great deal of thumping as the boys ran down and into the parlour. Josie and Annie came in without aprons and Josie checked her hair in the mirror before sitting in one of the fireside chairs. She signalled for Rob to join her.

  ‘Is dinner ready?’ Joe asked.

  Kate shook her head and looked around at her family. ‘What’s happening?’

  Josie’s eyes darted to Patrick. He glanced at Mattie and she shot a look at Nathaniel, just as the clock struck the first note for one o’clock. There was a knock at the front door.

  ‘I wonder who that can be?’ said Mattie, beaming at her sister.

  Josie put her hand over her mouth. ‘I’ve no idea, Mattie.’ She giggled.

  Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose innocently as he struggled to suppress a grin.

  ‘Shall we see?’ Patrick said, striding across the room and to the hall.

  Everyone’s eyes fixed on Kate. The door clicked open and a male voice sounded in the hall. It couldn’t be . . .? Kate’s heart did a double beat then galloped off.

  The door opened and Kate stopped breathing as Jonathan walked into the room.

  It had been twelve weeks and three days since Jonathan had last held her in his arms and kissed her, and his need to do so again was growing more urgent with each passing day; however, as much as he wanted to post the banns, they could not, just yet, for a number of reasons.

  Firstly, there were the school guardians who had demanded a full explanation as to why, instead of overseeing the school, Jonathan had been chasing a criminal across a dosshouse roof. They raised their collective eyebrows in astonishment when they found out that the criminal was not only the father of a pupil but the husband of the woman whose morals had already been enquired into by the board of guardians. As if this wasn’t enough to give the guardians dyspepsia, Jonathan’s revelation that Aggie’s body was found in the same premises as Joe had them all reaching for their medicinal hip flasks. Thankfully, his argument that his swift, if somewhat unconventional, actions had saved the school’s good name carried the day.