Jubilee (Book 1 of The Poppy Chronicles)

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Jubilee (Book 1 of The Poppy Chronicles) Page 29

by Claire Rayner


  ‘Expect who?’ Mildred was trying very hard to be patient.

  ‘Lizah!’ Jessie said irritably. ‘Who else? Usually of a Friday night he comes with me to Momma’s but tonight Momma told us she was going to bed early, on account of her cold, wouldn’t be making no Friday night supper, which was why I said I’d go to Nate’s sister in the first place – and I thought, Lizah’ll go out with his friends somewhere, Friday night or no Friday night. So, I wasn’t surprised the house was empty. But after I got the programme from upstairs, I thought – did he bank up the fire before he went out? It’d be just like him to let it go out – so I went in the kitchen to see, and there it was, on the table –’

  ‘What was?’

  ‘So let me tell you! There’s this note. He says he’s going to South Africa, he’s going tomorrow from Southampton, and not to try to stop him and give his love to Momma. I ask you! Just like that! We’ve got to stop him, Millie. He can’t do it, we’ve got to go to Southampton and get him back –’

  Mildred had pulled a chair forward from beside the table and was now sitting staring at Jessie. ‘Get him – but why? He is his own man, Jessie, free to do as he chooses, surely. He always has so far –’ And she looked a little grim as she said it. ‘Why expect him to change now? You didn’t stop him when he went to America.’

  Jessie shook her head in a fever of impatience and almost howled the words. ‘That was different, for God’s sake! For a start we didn’t know he was going till he came back and told us he’d been there, and for the next thing he didn’t go to America to be a soldier. And that’s what this is about. The great shlemiel’s going to fight in this ferstinkeneh war o’ theirs and get himself killed. It’s dangerous bein’ a soldier! And what’s it got to do with him anyway? Eh? This war – all about taking gold and diamonds from a lot of poor bloody farmers that never did no one any harm as far as I can see –’

  ‘Jessie!’ Mildred said, scandalized, and glanced at Poppy who was sitting with her eyes wide open, fascinated by every word. ‘Your language!’

  ‘Oh, oh, I’m sorry – Poppy, boobalah, you never heard nothing, not a word, did you? No you didn’t – but Millie, can’t you see how dreadful it all is? He’s not a soldier, for God’s sake! Our Lizah, fighting a war?’

  ‘He’s fought in the boxing ring often enough,’ Mildred said dryly.

  ‘That is totally different, and you know it,’ Jessie snapped. ‘There he was making a living. A lousy living, but a living. He fought for money, for a purse, for a bit of attention. But this? This is just asking for trouble, to go fighting in wars. That’s real fighting, the sort that kills fellas. And if anything happens to Lizah it’ll kill my Momma. All she’s got is us two – sure there’s my sister Rae, but she thinks of nothing but Joe Vinosky and that business of theirs, and there’s Wolfie but he went off to America Gawd knows how long ago, and who knows where he is now or what he’s doing? So there’s only me and Lizah. And for Momma the one that matters is Lizah. If anything happens to him –’ She literally shuddered. ‘Believe me, Mildred, it don’t bear thinking about.’

  Mildred sat there silently staring at her and Jessie stared back, her eyes huge in her face as she put every atom of appeal she had in her into her gaze and after a while Mildred looked away. ‘I don’t see what I can do,’ she said at length. ‘Or even why I should.’

  ‘To help me. To help Momma –’ Jessie said and then looked very deliberately at Poppy. ‘To help everyone who is a member of his family. Hmmm?’

  ‘Jessie, I don’t want to hear another word about –’

  Jessie held up one hand. ‘Give me some credit, do. If you think I’m going to say anything meant for your ears alone to anyone but you, then you do me down. You know me better than that. I’m just pointing out that you got responsibilities in this, just like I have. I got Momma to worry about – You – you got other worries.’

  Again there was a silence and then Mildred said angrily, ‘But what can I do, for heaven’s sake? If he’s gone, he’s gone –’

  ‘Tomorrow – he said tomorrow –’ Jessie began to scrabble in her reticule and then swore under her breath. ‘I left the letter on the table, I was in such a state – but I remember it, every word. Tomorrow, from Southampton he’s going. With General Buller –’ She gave a little crack of laughter. ‘Just like Lizah, puttin’ on the dog. The way he wrote it, you’d think he was going to be Buller’s right-hand man, that he couldn’t do without him, they’d lose the whole war if he wasn’t there – but thank God he likes to show off that way. If he didn’t we wouldn’t know where to begin.’

  ‘And where do we begin?’ Mildred asked sardonically.

  ‘At Southampton, of course.’ Jessie sounded almost scornful that she had to explain anything that was so obvious. ‘We go first thing to Southampton, find the ship this General Buller’s on and go and find Lizah and make him get off.’

  Mildred stared at her and then threw back her head and laughed with real hilarity. ‘Jessie, you’re mad! Do you know how many people go on these ships? They’re enormous, big enough for hundreds and hundreds of passengers. And I’ve seen the pictures in the papers – they’re packing these soldiers in like sardines in a tin! You’ll never find Lizah just like that –’

  ‘Why not? He’s only just gone! He’s not a soldier in uniform or anything – just our Lizah – he’ll stick out like anything in the middle of all that brown stuff they wear –’

  Mildred shook her head. ‘This won’t be some spur of the moment thing. He’s planned it. If he knows he’s going with General Buller that means he’s already joined up and got his uniform and everything organized. Has he got the money to buy a ticket on a ship? No, of course not. You said that was his problem – money. So someone else is paying, and it has to be the army. He’s a soldier already, Jessie, and in uniform. He just didn’t tell you till tonight – obviously he knew you’d try to stop him. The way Mama is trying to stop Wilfred.’ She looked bleak for a moment. ‘No, Jessie, believe me, there isn’t a thing you can do about it – you’ll just have to accept that he’s gone and –’

  Jessie jumped to her feet. ‘I won’t,’ she cried passionately. ‘I have to get him back, for Momma – for –’ Again she glanced at Poppy. ‘If he goes and gets himself killed and I hadn’t tried to prevent him I’d never forgive myself. You’ve got to help me –’

  ‘How can I help you, Jessie? Be reasonable, do! There’s nothing I can do – or indeed have any right to do –’

  ‘Never mind rights. Do it to please me. Come with me to Southampton and help me. You can do that. I may look like a strutter, but believe me, inside I’m a jelly, a real jelly. Help me, Millie!’ And she held out her hands imploringly.

  Mildred opened her mouth and then closed it and then opened it again. ‘But Jessie, it isn’t that easy! I can’t just walk out of here the way you can. I have orders to fill tomorrow – there’s a wedding cake to deliver, and I promised cherry pies and heaven knows what else besides –’

  ‘Can’t Nellie help? Can’t she come tomorrow and –’

  Mildred shook her head decisively. ‘Of course not. It all has to be ready before eleven. I was going to get up at four o’clock anyway to do the work – the cake has to be iced and decorated and the pies baked and there’s a whole lot of other things besides – it all has to be ready by eleven –’

  ‘Right!’ Jessie pushed her chair back and began to unbutton the cuffs of her great leg of mutton sleeves. ‘We’d better get going.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’ve got work to do! I’ll help, you just tell me what to do and do it I shall. And then in the morning, we get Nellie over here to see to the deliveries and we get the first train the London Chatham and Dover Railway sends out of Victoria to Southampton. We can get a bit of kip on the train and when we get there, we can get Lizah off and sleep all the way back and be right as ninepence –’

  ‘I’ll do no such thing, Jessie!’ Mildred began and got to her feet. ‘It’s the most
ridiculous plan I –’ And then she stopped, for Jessie was looking at her with her face so still that she looked carved and yet there was an expression of desolation there that could not be missed. Both women stood in silence looking at each other, the child staring up at them in equal silence for what seemed a very long time.

  At last Mildred stirred. ‘Poppy, dear,’ she said, still not taking her eyes from Jessie. ‘Put your book away now and go to bed. Tomorrow Mama and Auntie Jessie must be away but Nellie will look after you and –’

  Jessie seemed galvanized at that and spoke at the same time as Poppy began to protest. But it was Jessie’s voice that was the loudest.

  ‘Oh, Millie, thank you. Thank you. And let her come with. What harm can it do? Please God we find him and get him off, then it’s as good a way of saying hello as any. I mean not so intense and all that – lot of people around, eh? And if we don’t find him –’ Her face went still again. ‘If we don’t, in time to come the child will be glad to know she came with us. That she helped us try.’

  ‘Jessie, you meddle too much. How can you know what she will want in the future? How can anyone know? You take too much on yourself –’

  ‘Maybe I do, but I got the right. I’m her aunt, and I got the right. I have to speak for the rest of her family – let her come with, Millie. Anyway, maybe Nellie can’t stay here all day. And even if she can, you’ll get a fever of worry if you leave her here all day, you know you will. She’ll have to come with us –’

  ‘If we go.’

  ‘You agreed we would –’

  ‘I didn’t say –’

  ‘No, you didn’t say a word. But you agreed you’d come. You know you did.’

  Again there was a long silence and then Mildred threw up both hands in a defeated little gesture. ‘From the day I first met you, Jessie Mendel, you’ve been more than I can deal with, indeed you have. What can I do?’

  ‘Oh, Millie, Millie, I love you, you know that?’ And Jessie hurled herself at Mildred and threw her arms round her and Mildred almost lurched under the impact. ‘You’ll never regret helping me like this, never. You won’t lose by it, believe me you won’t –’

  ‘Apart from a night’s sleep,’ Mildred said and extracted herself and went over to the fire to build it up. ‘We’ll need to get the oven well up if we’re to bake those pies tonight,’ she grunted as she riddled energetically at the grate and then began to shovel in the coal. Her face was red and not entirely from her effort or from the heat of the fire. ‘I’ll need another scuttleful or two before this night’s out, so you’d better get your skirts tied up.’ She looked over her shoulder then at Jessie’s heavily braided and frilled maroon skirts. ‘Or better still, take your gown off and work in your petticoats. I can find you an apron.’

  At once Jessie began to undo her bodice, which was a major operation, for it was fastened with a double row of heavy small round buttons, as Mildred closed up the range again and pulled out the dampers to ensure that the flames would soon leap high and lift the temperature of her ovens and then went out to the scullery to light her Rippingille stoves.

  ‘Poppy,’ she said over her shoulder, not looking at her. ‘Do as I said, and put your book away for now. Go to bed and tomorrow we shall go on a train with Auntie Jessie. I can’t come up with you tonight, so be sure to wash carefully and brush your teeth and say your prayers. Goodnight, Poppy –’

  And she came back into the kitchen carrying a large bag of flour and her big yellow mixing bowl and wooden spoons and nodded briskly at Poppy.

  She got to her feet and pushed her stool back into its corner, glad to escape from the fireside which was already getting too warm for comfort. She was bewildered by all that had happened and all that was promised; to go on a train? That was a thought so exciting she could hardly contain it, for she had never been on one before, and to tell the truth was a little sleepy, too, for it was well past her usual bed time. Mama had said she could sit up a little later and read to her, as it was Friday and there was no school tomorrow, and had clearly not noticed the time; and then Auntie Jessie’s dramatic arrival had driven away any sense of the clock at all. But sleepy though she was, she was still very well aware of all that was happening and was thinking hard as she moved towards the door, her precious book beneath her arm.

  ‘Mama,’ she said as she reached the door and stood there with her hand on the knob. ‘Auntie Jessie – why must we go on a train tomorrow? And where is Southampton?’

  ‘It’s by the sea.’ Auntie Jessie had now climbed out of her gown and was wrapping herself in one of Mama’s aprons, which looked a little skimpy on her ample petticoated frame. ‘You shall see ships and soldiers and all sorts of lovely things, boobalah, and –’

  ‘Oh.’ Poppy stood and thought for a moment, trying to imagine really looking at the sea and at ships and soldiers, for she had only ever seen pictures of such marvels.

  ‘Will you like that?’ Auntie Jessie, at a sign from Mildred, had begun to rub down loaf sugar, while Mildred measured flour into her bowl. ‘Will it be exciting?’

  ‘I shan’t know till I’ve been there,’ Poppy said and opened the door and a draught of cool air came from the passage, fed by the rawness of the night outside. There was a thin fog out of doors and faint tendrils of it came wreathing in through the cracks round the front door.

  ‘Listen to her!’ Auntie Jessie said in her usual fond way, all the agitation she had brought in with her quite gone now that she was busy, and had gained her own way. ‘Such a head she’s got on her! The things she says!’

  ‘Poppy, go to bed,’ Mama said again and obediently Poppy went out into the passage and pulled the door behind her. And then had another thought and pushed it open again, and put her head round and looked into the kitchen. ‘Mama,’ she said. ‘Who is Lizah that we are going to Southampton to fetch? Is it someone I know?’

  27

  They didn’t tell her, of course. It really was remarkable how often grown-ups could talk to you and not tell you anything you wanted to know. Last night they had just sent her to bed, scolding her because it was so late, as though that were her fault, and this morning, when they woke her early and helped her dress and gave her bread and milk, they had been in no mood to talk. Both Auntie Jessie and Mama had been tired; she could tell that by the way their faces looked as though they had been stretched. She had considered asking her question again but then adroitly changed it to a request to wear her new hat and muff when she saw Mama’s face tighten when she started to speak, and Mama had looked momentarily surprised and then said she could. So that was all right.

  Now she sat in the corner seat of the railway carriage with her hands tucked into the delicious warmth of her muff, and the fur on her hat tickling her cheeks agreeably and stared out of the window with her eyes as wide as she could make them, so that she wouldn’t miss anything. First there had been the buildings, one after another, piled high and leaning against each other, sooty and steam wreathed, with dirty windows through which she could almost see people in their kitchens and bedrooms, and there had been posters with huge pictures on them and words about buying tea and soap – she especially liked a picture of a monkey wearing an evening suit and sliding down the banisters in a big rich house, watched by two admiring children, and bearing aloft a bar of soap, underneath which was written, ‘Monkey Brand. Will not wash clothes,’ and then more buildings and more posters. But then the buildings had stretched further apart and become little houses, and there had been glimpses of trees, with rich red and brown leaves on them, and grassy gardens and finally no houses at all. That was how it was now; fields and trees and more fields with animals in them – she had identified cows and sheep from her picture books without any trouble at all – and sometimes rivers and ponds and occasionally children on the roads beside the line who waved to the train. She had considered waving back but decided that today she was a princess, travelling in her kingdom, and princesses didn’t wave. They just bowed their heads politely. So she kept her
hands in her muff and did that.

  At Winchester station Auntie Jessie leaned out, with a considerable display of her petticoats and much to Mama’s disapproval, to shout for one of the boys on the platform who were selling chocolate and apples and meat pies from trays, and bought chocolate which Mama refused, but which she allowed Poppy to eat, though only a little, because, as Auntie Jessie said, ‘We won’t get our dinners till afterwards, will we? We don’t know how it’s going to be or what we’ll find out or how long it’ll take – so we got to make sure we’re all right. A bit o’ chocolate’ll tide us over nicely.’

  ‘We had plenty of breakfast,’ Mildred said dampeningly. ‘And chocolate makes people feel ill sometimes.’

  ‘Not me,’ Poppy said fervently.

  ‘Not I,’ her mother corrected her and Poppy subsided, pretending she hadn’t seen the vast wink that Auntie Jessie threw at her.

  But Mama was right, of course. She wasn’t really hungry and the chocolate did make her feel a little odd inside. Or perhaps it wasn’t the chocolate, but just the rushing around of it all. The train was full of people, mostly women and children like herself and her mother and her aunt, though there were some men too, and all of them seemed to talk of nothing but war and General Sir Redvers Buller and Wicked Old Kruger and Boers who had To Be Taught A Lesson (what sort of lesson? wondered Poppy. Sums or writing or reading? Were they grown-ups and if they were why did they need lessons?) and some of the women cried when they talked of Our Brave Boys. Perhaps it was the crying (crying grown-ups! Awful!) or perhaps it was the smell of soot that the great wreaths of steam sent into their crowded carriage, or maybe it was the chocolate after all; certainly by the time they reached the end of the journey, she felt tired and uncomfortable and not at all as though this were fun. It would be nicer to be at home by the fire with her book, and she felt her eyes ache and fill with tears as she thought of her new story book, alone and lonely in her bureau in her bedroom far away at home.

 

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