by Penny Jordan
‘Why not?’
She laughed. ‘Why, it’s very charming, but a rather old-fashioned design. A girl usually chooses what she likes, you know. Something more fashionable. We can go shopping together for one this week!’ she exclaimed, then, lowering her eyes, added petulantly, ‘That is if you can spare a day from your precious surgery?’ She held out her hands, beckoning him towards her. ‘We’ll have lunch out, and talk about our wedding—I think the spring would be perfect. Mother and Father will have enough time to make all the arrangements, and—’ Rosalind stopped, her expression annoyed as a loud banging came from downstairs. ‘Who can that be on a Sunday?’
‘I’ll go and see.’
‘Do you have to?’
‘I won’t be long.’
‘Please send them away quickly.’
Harry hurried downstairs. When he opened the door it was Tilly.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you.’
‘Come in, come in.’ He took hold of her arm. ‘What’s the matter? You look very upset.’
‘I am,’ she gasped breathlessly. ‘I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve been to the park and the school, but of course it’s closed, and down to Island Gardens, but they’re nowhere to be found!’
He sat her down on one of the chairs. ‘Take a deep breath, then tell me who you’re talking about.’
‘The girls and Frank! They’ve just—disappeared!’
‘Where to?’’
‘I don’t know. But it’s all my fault.’ Tears sprang to her eyes.
He was trying to comfort her when Rosalind appeared on the stairs. ‘What’s going on, Harry?’
‘I don’t know, Rosalind. I’m trying to find out.’
‘Is it so urgent it must disrupt our morning?’
‘Tilly is very upset.’
‘I see. In that case I’d better leave.’ She reached out for her coat.
‘Please give me a moment, Rosalind. This is most unfortunate, I know, but I must see to it. Why don’t you wait upstairs?’
‘Because I’ll be waiting for ever, knowing you,’ she snapped as she came down the stairs. ‘I do hope that when we’re married this kind of thing won’t happen. Your first duty will be to your wife, Harry, as of course mine will be to you.’
Without acknowledging Tilly, she walked away. The front door banged and Harry sighed.
‘I’m sorry—you must forgive Rosalind. She is a little…er…distracted at the moment.’
‘I shouldn’t have come.’
‘Of course you should. Now, tell me what’s happened.’
Tilly didn’t know where to start. They had run away, but why—and where to? She began by telling him about Dr Tapper’s letter, and then their visit to Hailing House.
They went to the market and searched through the stalls. Tilly thought Frank might have taken the girls there. Carollers sang around the braziers and people stamped their feet to keep warm. But they couldn’t find the children anywhere.
‘Let’s separate,’ Harry suggested. ‘I’ll go this way and you go that.’
Tilly pressed her way through the crowds. Though people didn’t have much to spend, they were cheerful. Many couldn’t afford the luxuries spread out over the tabletops. An orange, an apple and a few sweets was the most any child here could expect in their stockings.
All her savings had gone over the past three months, but she had planned to give the children a surprise on Christmas morning. Two pretty rag dolls for the girls, and a pair of boots complete with metal studs for Frank. Though there were no funds to buy a tree, she’d intended to wrap up their gifts and hang their stockings on the hearth. On Christmas Eve, as they sat by the fire, she would tell them the tale of the selfish old banker Ebenezer Scrooge, and how his life changed for the good with the appearance of ghosts. Then they would read from the Bible of the true meaning of Christmas. The story of Caesar Augustus and his decree that the entire world should be taxed, which caused Joseph and Mary to travel to Bethlehem on a donkey.
But this would be impossible now.
Tilly stopped breathlessly. She had looked everywhere and asked everyone who knew Frank if they had seen the runaways. But they seemed to have disappeared without trace.
‘We’ll take the car and search again,’ Harry decided as he joined her. ‘It’s not dark yet. There’s still time to find them.’
Tilly nodded. But what would happen if they didn’t find them? Cessie’s health was delicate. They had taken their coats and hats from the cupboard, but the night would grow cold. Where would they sleep? What would they eat?
‘Don’t worry—they can’t have gone far,’ Harry assured her. But even as they drove through the streets it seemed like a fruitless search.
Tilly slept in the chair that night. She listened for sounds, starting at every noise, hoping that some miracle would bring them back. When morning came she rushed to their room. It was empty.
‘Any sign of them?’ Harry asked when she arrived upstairs. She had waited till the very last minute in case they returned.
‘No.’
He touched her shoulder gently. ‘We’ll look again later.’
Tilly tried to concentrate on her work, and the morning was very busy. There were only eight more days to Christmas. Everyone wanted to be well for the seasonal celebrations. Dr Tapper’s cough linctus was always very popular at this time of year. If Tilly hadn’t been so worried about the children she would have laughed when Harry asked her to retrieve it from the shelves.
That evening they drove out in the car again. The headlights illuminated the dark roads as they drove slowly along. But at last Harry stopped the car and shook his head.
‘We must stop for tonight.’
Tilly knew now that however much they searched they weren’t likely to find them. After the visit she had made to Hailing House with the girls Frank had decided that he and his sisters would be better living on the streets again than enduring life apart.
Tuesday morning brought a Dr Middleton to the surgery—a frail looking elderly gentleman. ‘I’ve come, having read the advertisement in the newspaper,’ he said, so faintly that Tilly could hardly hear. ‘This is my son, his wife and their four children, who will be living with me if I should decide to take up the position.’
Whilst Dr Middleton spoke to Harry the children ran noisily up and down the passage. The parents seemed to have no control as their offspring invaded every nook and corner. The patients all glared at them, tucking their feet under the chairs as the noisy, clumsy pairs of feet sped this way and that.
‘Blimey, I hope we ain’t having that old codger,’ muttered Arnold Wise as he removed his corns from harm’s way. ‘He looks as much use as a chocolate teapot!’
‘And them kids want a good hiding,’ Mrs Cribbens whispered back.
The next applicant, a Dr Darke, arrived at teatime. He was of middle age, wore a black hat—and a scowl to match his name.
‘That one looks a barrel of laughs,’ Bert Singer wheezed as he watched the tall figure depart without acknowledging his prospective patients.
‘’ Spect his face’d crack if he smiled,’ the woman next to him agreed.
Tilly knew it would be very difficult to find a replacement, and she tried not to think the worst; Harry would have to pick the best of the bunch.
When surgery was over Tilly went out into the street. No light sprang up from the basement window—not that she’d really expected to see one. But she had kept a small hope in her heart. Perhaps Frank would relent and bring the girls home. It was so dark and cold. They must be hungry and afraid. But all she could see was the river mist creeping along the street and over the houses.
Where was her little family? Would she ever see them again?
Two more candidates arrived the next day. The first was a well-dressed young man who, after talking with Harry, took one look at the crowded passage and fled. The next was a widower, accompanied by his two daughters. The women inspected the quarters upstairs and could be heard disagreeing on t
he decoration and the close proximity to the surgery.
‘I shall dispense with the chairs,’ their father told Harry as he stood in the passage, noting the occupied seats. ‘It’s much healthier for the patients to wait outside in the fresh air.’
An audible gasp came from the assembled company.
‘That old misery wouldn’t give a spot to a leopard,’ someone yelled after they left.
‘Did you see them women? Fat as a rabbi’s cat!’
‘That type wouldn’t give two penneth of Gawd ’elp us to a dying man.’
At the end of the day Tilly sat quietly in the scullery. The patients hadn’t liked any of the applicants for the doctor’s vacancy and neither had she. None of the applicants had asked about the work or the people they were to treat. Tap House was a fine home, despite being in the middle of a slum, and it was the accommodation that really interested them.
She sighed as she gazed out of the kitchen window to the dark night. Her thoughts turned to the children. The longer they were away, the more chance there was of her never seeing them again.
‘Tilly?’
She jumped up. ‘Has another doctor arrived?’
Harry smiled gently. ‘No. I’ve closed the doors now.’
‘I’ll get my coat.’
He took her arm as she passed. ‘There’s been no news, I take it?’
‘No, none at all.’
‘We’ll take the car out again tonight.’
But she shook her head. She was grateful for all he had done, but she had to accept the fact that Frank had lived on his wits before and would do so again if it meant he could keep his sisters with him.
It was Thursday when the young doctor made an exception to his rule. He explained to Tilly that he would be accompanying Miss Darraway into town at lunchtime for at least two hours, on a matter of some urgency.
Rosalind looked very handsome as she entered the surgery, wearing a brown and beige suit trimmed with a thick fur collar. Tilly thought she looked the picture of country elegance.
‘Are you ready, Harry?’ She pushed open the surgery door and, ignoring the line of patients as usual, entered.
All heads inclined to get a better view.
‘Mappin and Webb are thought to be very fashionable at the moment,’ she was heard to say. ‘But Father would prefer us to visit the family jeweller.’
All heads resumed their normal position as the doctor appeared. He inclined his arm and Rosalind took hold of it. Though all consultations had been officially postponed, this event was worth waiting to see.
‘He’s gonna tie the knot, then, is he?’ someone asked Tilly as the chauffeur-driven car outside roared off.
‘A right to-do that’s gonna be. Frills and fancies galore.’
‘That little madam will make sure she has ’em an all.’
A general nodding of heads confirmed the fact.
‘Now, Tilly gel,’ said Bill Shiner as he stood up and put his hand on his hip, the celebrities soon forgotten. ‘Gimme some of Dr Tapper’s cure for me back, will you? A nice rub will do me the power of good.’
Tilly went to the kitchen to find the renowned mixture of camphorated oil, turpentine and lard. She would quietly restore it to its former glory on the shelves in the doctor’s room. The New Year always brought with it a surfeit of aches and pains…
Tilly stood still. Tears sprang to her eyes.
The New Year!
She would enter 1929 without the people she loved. Cessie and Molly and Frank, and Dr Tapper too.
But now there was someone else…someone who had crept into her heart and stolen it away. A person so dear to her that the thought of being apart from him made her feel desolate.
A tear slid slowly down her cheek as she remembered Harry’s soft touch as he’d slid his grandmother’s ring on her finger.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE days leading up to Christmas were even busier, and Tilly was glad to be occupied. In between assisting in surgery she hung sprigs of holly over all the doors. The patients brought what they could beg, borrow and in some instances steal, to show their gratitude to the young doctor. Bottles of ginger ale and homecooked pastries stood on a table in the passage.
‘A medicinal tipple for our patients,’ Harry told Tilly on Saturday morning as he brought down a tray of glasses and a bottle of port from upstairs.
Everyone heartily approved. Tilly made a frantic effort to clean the glasses as they were used, but mugs were soon brought in. When the port was exhausted, mulled wine was suggested as beneficial for the heart and lungs.
Most people refrained from asking who the new doctor was going to be. Like Tilly, they had favoured none of the candidates. When asked if there was any news of the children, Tilly just shook her head.
‘You did your best,’ people assured her.
‘Keep yer chin up, gel.’
Tilly was trying very hard to act as normal. But she missed the sound of the girls’ laughter, and Frank’s jokes, and the happy routine they had fallen into—although now she realised that that was what made life all the harder now. She had lived alone since James died, and had accepted a solitary existence. But since finding her little orphans life had taken on a new meaning. And then Harry had come along! She had believed no one could fill Dr Tapper’s place. But her opinion had soon changed. It was clear to her now that this feeling that made her heart ache was not a love as she’d had for James, who had been so dear to her, but something that frightened her because it was so strong.
‘A penny for your thoughts?’ The familiar voice brought Tilly out of her reverie. Harry was standing beside her.
‘Oh, I was daydreaming!’
‘You look very charming when that happens.’
Tilly blushed. ‘I didn’t think I did it very often.’
‘Occasionally.’ He smiled. ‘Now, I have some news which will cheer you up. I received an answer to my last letter to the hospital doctor. I put some pressure on the authorities and Grace and Emily are being discharged from New Cross. They are being sent today to recover in a decent home for invalid care.’
‘Oh, what wonderful news!’
He nodded. ‘It’s well within walking distance for their families—the one I had in mind, in fact.’
‘Do Mrs Mount and Mrs Tanner know?’
‘We’ll go and tell them.’
Tilly wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him. But instead she hurried to find her coat and hat, and a few moments later they were on their way.
The Mounts and the Tanners were overjoyed. ‘I wish you was staying ’ere for ever, Dr Fleet,’ Mrs Mount cried through her laughter and tears of joy.
‘Gawd bless you, sir,’ Mrs Tanner repeated, over and over again.
Plans were quickly drawn up, and they left the two families making arrangements for a visit the very next day.
That night, alone in the airey, Tilly kept busy. She cooked sweet mince pies for Monday’s surgery—Christmas Eve.
On Sunday she went to church. The Sunday school children had made a small stable of straw for everyone to look at. They had placed chipped but colourful china figures of the Holy Family, the shepherds and their sheep and the three kings in the centre. A star made of shiny paper had been unsteadily glued to the roof. A lantern was lit and put beside it, reflecting the faces of the Holy Family.
Long lines of children paraded past.
She thought how Cessie, Molly and Frank too would have stood with her, lost in wonder as they gazed at the tableau. She missed them very much and said a prayer. “Wherever they are, please take care of them.”
CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS Monday the twenty-fourth of December, 1928. Christmas Eve. Dressed not in her apron but in her Sunday best frock, with her hair washed and combed so that it curved like a silver halo around her head, Tilly opened the doors to a deserted street. Even in the East End, as poor as they were, the people were preparing to celebrate.
Dr Tapper always ended his surgery at midday on Christ
mas Eve. Each year Tilly would go upstairs and share a glass of cream sherry with him. Afterwards she would walk to Hailing House and help with the Christmas dinner being prepared for the poor and needy. One slice of roast turkey, a spoonful of roast potatoes, peas and carrots for everyone. It was a welcome hot meal for the starving and homeless, and they were grateful for it.
‘How quiet we are this morning,’ Harry observed as he came down the stairs. He was wearing a black jacket and waistcoat, and his thick dark hair was brushed back over his head. No doubt he was expecting a visit from Rosalind, Tilly thought dejectedly.
Just then the door flew open. A woman appeared, a screaming child in her arms. Three more infants followed, clinging to her skirts. ‘Got somefing stuck up his nose, Doctor!’
The child was taken into the surgery and the marble removed by bribery as the little boy crammed a mince pie into his mouth.
‘I ain’t got nothing wrong with me,’ Charlie Atkins told Tilly a little while later. ‘Just come to wish the good doctor a happy Christmas and thank him for what he done for me aches and pains as I heard he’s leavin’. Is that right, gel?’
‘I’m afraid so, Mr Atkins.’
‘It’ll be a loss to one and all, I can tell yer.’
When the doctor appeared he shook the older man’s hand, and soon the passage was filled with well-wishers. Mrs Tanner and Mrs Mount arrived, to give an account of Sunday’s happy visit to their daughters and tell everyone what the doctor had done for them.
Good humour abounded—with a few minor casualties in between. The question that was on everyone’s mind—was who was the new doctor to be? But no one knew.
When everyone had gone, and it was time for Tilly to leave, she took a small parcel from her pocket and gave it to the doctor. ‘This is for your new home,’ she murmured, her blue eyes very bright.
‘Tilly! What is it?’ He took the package, slowly removing the thin sheet of wrapping Tilly had tied round it.
‘It’s a paperweight made out of papier maché and weighted with a stone. The children made it and painted on a robin. I’m sure they would want you to have it to remind you of—of—where you once worked.’