Eliza's Child

by Maggie Hope

  ‘Very well, Sister. You may go. Report back to me in seven days’ time.’ Matron looked down dismissively and picked up her pen. ‘I hope your brother is not too badly injured, Sister.’

  Eliza went out of the room with a feeling of having been let out of prison. Which was surprising, really, for she loved her work. Yet she soon forgot about Matron and the Infirmary and even her lack of sleep as she packed a bag and set off for the station. She didn’t even care about telling a lie about her reasons for needing the time off.

  The problem was that as soon as she sat down on the train the lack of sleep caught up with her and she closed her eyes, just for a minute or two, she told herself, and slept immediately. She dreamed of Thomas taking his first steps down the lane leading to Farmer Dean’s farm, chuckling and picking daisies and dandelions under the hedge. In her dream there were no shadows and she was happy as she walked with him and caught him up in her arms when he stumbled. In the distance she could hear the roar of a steam engine on the line and the clickety-clack of the wheels on the rails.

  It was semi-dark when Eliza woke up. She had a crick in her neck and her left arm had gone to sleep where she had leaned against the wooden ridged side of the wagon. She stretched and groaned to herself as her aching muscles cried out in protest. The train was stopped in a siding and it was semi-dark all around, that particular dark that is midsummer night in the north.

  ‘Now then, Missus,’ a gruff voice said. ‘What are you doing here? Nobody can sleep the night on the train. It’s an offence, that is. You’d best be gone or I’ll have the polis on you.’

  The voice belonged to a man in a railwayman’s cap and coat and he held a lantern high over the half door of the third-class wagon. ‘Now then, be off with you.’

  ‘Where are we? I missed my station, I was asleep. Have we passed Alnwick?’

  ‘Passed Alnwick? Why, we’re long past. This is the junction. You’ll have to wait for the morn to get back to Alnwick.’ The man looked at Eliza in the light of his lantern and evidently decided she was not a vagrant. ‘If you walk back along the wagonway you will come to the platform. You can wait there. It’ll be half-past six mind, afore the train comes.’

  Eliza picked her way over the stones and gravel by the side of the track until she reached the platform. She had to scramble up onto it for there were no steps or gradation from the rough track. The morning was beginning to lighten from the east, though it was only half-past three by the station clock by the time she sank down on a bench thoughtfully provided outside the locked waiting room and put her Gladstone bag at her feet. She sat, leaning back against the brickwork of the waiting room for a while and closed her eyes. A small pain throbbed behind her left eye and her mouth was dry and foul-tasting.

  After a while she got to her feet and walked to the end of the platform in order to stretch her aching legs. It was very quiet as she gazed out at the surrounding fields and distant woods. Birds were starting to sing. She amused herself trying to make out the different songs. Anything rather than think about Thomas, for when she did that she alternated between soaring hope and deep pessimism. After all, there was so little for her to go on, just Bertha’s encounter with her mother-in-law and a small boy. Bertha could be mistaken about the boy, perhaps he was only four or five, perhaps he was Henry’s child.

  She forced her mind back to the dawn chorus; there was a blackbird’s sweet trill and the chattering of sparrows, the harsh call of starlings. And as the sun rose a skylark rose too. She watched the tiny speck in the sky and listened to its song. It made her feel better. She walked back to her seat and without realising it she was humming the old folksong, ‘Early one morning just as the sun was rising. I heard a bird singing in the valley below.’

  ‘It won’t be long now, Missus,’ the station attendant said. It was five o’clock according to the station clock, the long night was over. Eliza hadn’t even noticed he had come on duty as she watched and listened to the birds. He opened the waiting-room door for her and it put her in mind of the last time she had come. It was five years ago now.

  The ladies’ waiting room was small and with only bench seats round the walls, but there was an ash closet behind a door in the corner and in another corner a tap and a fixed basin beneath it. She was able to wash the smuts from her face and neck, though she had to dry them on the hem of her petticoat. She took off her nurse’s cap and smoothed her hair before replacing it. There was no looking glass but she was reasonably sure she was as presentable as she could make herself with such limited facilities.

  When the train steamed up to the platform she was waiting to board it, having bought a first-class ticket this time so she could ride the short journey in a proper carriage. Soon she would see her little lad, oh, soon she would. She sat down on a comfortable seat at last and the train started on the journey back to Alnwick.

  Chapter Eighteen

  TOT WALKED SLOWLY around the side of the cottage to the kitchen door for he wasn’t allowed to go in the front. Granny said there was enough dirt in the place without him bringing it in. At the thought of dirt he looked down anxiously at his boots but they carried no mud, they were just dusty from the road. He rubbed the toes on the back of his stockings. The stockings were a thick grey wool and the dust wouldn’t show. He knew that from experience. He didn’t want the belt; he could still feel the welt on his legs from the last time he had upset Granny.

  He sat down on the step to unlace his boots and pulled them off with the help of a boot scraper embedded into the stone beside the back door. Then he put them neatly side by side just inside the door and went in to face Granny.

  ‘How many times have I told you not to talk to Barney?’ Annie demanded from her place at the stove where she was dishing up the dinner. It was scrag end of mutton and cabbage and boiled potatoes and she put a plateful on the table. ‘Now then, eat up,’ she said.

  Tot looked down at the greasy mutton and felt faintly sick but he knew better than to say anything about it. He picked up his knife and fork and began to eat, going solidly at it and trying not to think of the taste. The last time he had said he didn’t like it and refused to eat it the plate had been brought out at every mealtime until at last he managed to push the food down his throat.

  Tot had developed a strategy, though he wouldn’t have known what was meant by the word. He imagined himself in another world where there was a shadowy figure that cuddled him and kissed him good night. He couldn’t see her face but he knew it was his mammy. And she made him nice things to eat and sometimes lemonade to drink just like Alfie’s mammy. Alfie’s mammy lived a few doors along the street and once when it was hot and he was walking home from school with Alfie she had given them both a drink of dandelion and burdock pop.

  ‘I got it from the shop today,’ she had said, ‘and saved some especially for you two.’ Alfie’s mam was lovely and so was his own mam if only he could find her. But he couldn’t. When he had asked Granny where she was Granny said his mam had gone off and left him. Once again he wondered what he had done that was so wrong for his mam to go off and leave him. Sometimes he thought he could remember his mammy. She hovered on the edge of his mind and memory but he couldn’t see her face. She wouldn’t go off and leave him, oh no, she would have protected him from Granny and from Uncle Henry as well. Not that he saw much of Uncle Henry lately. Granny had had a falling-out with him.

  All the time Tot ploughed through his food his thoughts were busy far away. He began his favourite game, which was that he was sitting at the table with his mammy and he was eating panackelty. He was sure his mam had made him panackelty. He remembered the funny name but he couldn’t really remember the taste of it. But he was sure it tasted lovely.

  Annie watched as he ploughed his way through the food. By, she thought, she had brought him up different from the other two, ungrateful varmints that they had been. That Henry never came near her except to pay her the money due her from John Henry’s estate. He was waiting for her to die, oh, she was well aw
are of that. Well, she would live to spite him, she would an’ all. And then there was Jack. She had been too easy with him all right. Too easy altogether. Jack had gone and killed himself by jumping off the cliff at Tynemouth. What he was doing there was something she never fathomed but then, she didn’t pry too much. Really, she didn’t know whether he had thrown himself off or had been pushed for there was talk of someone dunning him for money he owed. Aye well, she told herself, she wouldn’t be so easy with this one. It was like having a second chance.

  ‘Can I go now?’ Tot asked. She had been staring at his plate without seeing it but now she realised it was wiped clean.

  ‘Hadaway then,’ she said. ‘Mind, you have to help me in the garden as soon as I’ve cleared away here. Don’t go off and play with that good-for-nothing Alfie, you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, Granny,’ said Tot.

  She watched him as he sat on the step and struggled with his boots. They came halfway up his calves and took a lot of lacing but in the end he managed it and went out into the garden. Annie supposed he wasn’t too bad for a seven-year-old lad. She remembered when she first got charge of him, how he had cried for his mother.

  ‘Me Tot,’ he had insisted whenever she called him Thomas and in the end that was what she had called him. It was the only concession she made to him. Oh, it didn’t do to let him get away with anything.

  Tot walked to the corner of the garden where the hedge was thin and he could see up the road to Alfie’s house. There was no sign of his friend but if he waited long enough and his granny didn’t come out and set him to work with the trowel digging up dandelion roots, Alfie might come out and talk to him through the hedge. The road was empty, though, everyone was eating at this time of day. No it wasn’t, someone had just turned into the street and was walking along it. It was a woman, he saw, a young woman in a funny hat and cape.

  ‘Tot! Get you here, my lad, never mind standing there dreaming.’ Granny had come out and she had on the sacking apron she used for gardening and a trug in her hand with the hand tools in it. Tot forgot about the woman in the road and turned to her, taking the trowel she handed him.

  Dandelions were a pest in the cottage gardens. Just when you thought you had got rid of them they popped up again. It was the long roots. Granny said he had to make sure he got all the roots and he dug carefully round them. He really liked dandelions, they were a nice sunshiny yellow and so were the pittly-beds that grew on the verges of the road. That wasn’t the right name, though. Barney, the stable lad said so. They were called—His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the garden gate opening.

  ‘Good day, Annie,’ a woman’s voice said. Tot scrambled to his feet. She was the woman in the cloak and funny hat he had seen coming down the road. She had spoken to his granny but she was staring at him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Granny sounded strange, as though she was frightened of something. But she couldn’t have been frightened of this woman because she looked nice and kind. He took a step forward and then stopped.

  The woman didn’t answer Granny but spoke to him. ‘Thomas?’ she said softly.

  ‘My name is Tot,’ he answered automatically. ‘I’m just called Thomas in school.’

  He regarded her gravely for a few seconds. ‘Why do you wear that funny hat?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s a nurse’s cap. I’m a nurse,’ Eliza said gently. Oh, the more she looked at him the more she could see the baby Thomas in him.

  ‘Tot! Go inside at once and don’t come out until I say you can!’ Annie was recovering from the shock of seeing Eliza. She went to him and caught hold of him roughly. ‘Do as I say or I’ll get the belt,’ she warned him.

  ‘You will not belt him,’ said Eliza. ‘Oh no, my lady, you will not belt him again.’ She stepped closer to the boy but was not quick enough for Annie grabbed him and he issued a small cry.

  Annie didn’t reply; she was dragging the boy towards the front door and even though she was hurting his arm by the way she was gripping him, he had time to wonder at them going in the front door with his boots on and soil from the garden on the boots an’ all. Once inside, she slammed the door behind them and dragged him through to the kitchen in order to lock that door too. But Eliza was before them. She had slipped around the side and was standing in the open kitchen doorway and as they appeared she took a step inside.

  ‘Get out,’ said Annie. ‘He’s my lad now. Jack gave him to me. I paid for him.’

  ‘You did what?

  ‘I paid Jack’s debts. I have a right to him.’ Her fingers were digging in to Tot’s shoulder and he squirmed free suddenly and stepped away from her.

  ‘Come back here this minute!’ said Annie. Tot hesitated. He knew he should obey her or she would belt him, but he lifted his chin and stared at her.

  ‘No,’ he said. His heart pounded in his chest and his voice quavered but he defied her. Eliza stepped forward and took hold of his hand.

  ‘Tot,’ she said. ‘I am your mother. It’s all right, I won’t let her hurt you again. Now go into the garden and wait for me. Will you do that? I have to talk to your granny. I won’t be long.’

  ‘My mammy?’ Tot looked up at her and his eyes were swimming in tears. ‘But Granny said you didn’t want me, you went away and left me.’

  ‘Did she now. Well, well. Look, pet, just do as I say, will you?’

  Tot nodded and trotted off out of the back door into the garden. This time he didn’t go to his favourite place by the hedge at the front of the house but stayed within earshot of the kitchen. He felt funny, all hot and tingly and his eyes were wet and his heart pounded in his chest. He bent down behind the rows of peas so that he was out of sight of the kitchen door and poked the soil around the lettuces with a stick.

  ‘You’re not taking the lad and that’s that,’ Annie said and Tot’s heart plummeted.

  ‘I’m not, am I?’ Eliza replied. ‘You might be wrong about that an’ all. Where’s Jack, any road? He had no right to give him to you, not when I’m the lad’s mam. What’s more, you cannot buy a human being, you cannot. That is slavery.’

  ‘Jack’s dead. He’s been gone these last three years,’ Annie said flatly. ‘He could do what he liked with his own bairn an’ all and he left him with me, I tell you.’

  Eliza was shaken. Jack was dead? Somehow she hadn’t imagined that. In spite of everything that had happened she felt a surge of grief for the husband she had loved once. In the good times they had been happy and she knew he had loved her. In the beginning at least.

  ‘How? How did he die? Did no one think to let me know?’

  ‘He went over the cliff at Tynemouth. I don’t know whether he fell or was pushed but either way he is just as dead. It doesn’t matter now.’ Annie’s expression didn’t change. She stared at her daughter-in-law. ‘Why would we bother to let you know? You left him, so he had a right to leave the lad with me. And I’m keeping him. I intend to bring him up properly. You have no claim on him.’

  ‘Oh but I have.’ Eliza took a bundle of paper out of the reticule she had over her arm. ‘I have a certificate here, signed by the doctor and the midwife, and I have a baptismal certificate from the Wesleyan minister in Durham. Both of them say I am Thomas’s mother. And if his father is dead, I am his legal guardian.’

  ‘How do you know what they say? You cannot read or write! You’re illiterate!’ Annie waved the papers away contemptuously.

  ‘No indeed, but I’m not. I am a trained nurse, a hospital sister trained under the Nightingale Fund. I have progressed since you last saw me.’

  Eliza could have laughed at Annie’s dumbfounded expression. But she was intent on securing Thomas. She could tell Annie was nervous of her so she must really think Eliza had the right on her side. But the old woman was prepared to fight to the end.

  ‘I’ll fetch the polis!’ she cried. ‘You’ll not take him.’

  ‘Go ahead, fetch whoever you like. Thomas is coming with me. I might have not been so sure if he was fond of you
but anyone can see you have the lad cowed. I won’t waste any more time. Give me his things and we’ll be away for the next train.’

  ‘His clothes aren’t leaving this house. They are bought and paid for by me.’ Eliza smiled. Now she was aware that Annie knew she had lost the boy.

  ‘Keep them,’ she said and turned for the door. Outside by the rows of peas, Tot stood up straight and for a few seconds mother and son stared at each other. Then both smiled.

  ‘Howay now, Tot,’ said Eliza. ‘Say goodbye to your grandmother. You might not see her again. You want to come with me, don’t you?’

  Tot nodded, and held out his hand to her. ‘I do,’ he said and looked back at Annie. ‘Good day to you, Grandmother,’ he said, and clasped Eliza’s hand.

  ‘You ungrateful little sod,’ said Annie. ‘After all I’ve done for you. You’ve been a viper in my bosom.’

  Tot didn’t know what a viper was or a bosom either but he hesitated, looked up at his mother and saw her nod. Releasing his hand, he ran back to Annie and hugged her round her thighs, which was as high as he could reach. Then he ran back to his mammy.

  ‘Oh, Tot, I was going to make a good and honourable man of you,’ said Annie. His hug had almost broken her down.

  ‘A pity you didn’t manage it with your own lads,’ said Eliza. She went round the side of the cottage and opened the front gate. Tot trotted by her side as they headed for the railway station.

  ‘Tot, where are you going?’ Alfie was playing with a ball on the street. He picked it up and came over to Tot. ‘I wanted you to play with me, look, my da bought me an India rubber ball.’

  ‘I cannot, Alfie,’ Tot said gravely. ‘I have to go with my mammy now.’

  As they were paused for the two boys to talk, Annie must have recovered and gathered her wits, for she came out into the street, running after them.

  ‘Give him back!’ she shouted at Eliza and Tot moved closer and half hid behind his mother’s skirts. Alfie’s mother came out, attracted by the shouting, and so did a number of other neighbours. ‘Help me, the bitch is trying to take the lad away!’ Annie appealed to them. They looked at each other.