Island of a Thousand Springs

by Sarah Lark

  Nora, who had happily given herself over to Simon’s tenderness, grew alarmed.

  “I must get the doctor!” she said. “And stay in bed this time. Don’t overstrain yourself like yesterday.” She gently ran her fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “Rest a bit longer. I’ll get you some water to wash up.”

  Nora put the kettle on — she had been able to purchase some herbs that could take the place of tea — and threw on her dress over her undergarments, in which she had slept. She needed a nightgown … hopefully one that was pretty, as Simon would see her in it, after all.

  Nora felt anxious as she ran down the stairs, which amounted to running the gauntlet. If Mrs. Paddington saw her, she invariably found a reason to berate her or mock her with a shrill voice. It was no different for Mr. and Mrs. Tanner — their landlady was just a vile gossipmonger who could not resist spitefully commenting on the comings and goings of her tenants. On this morning, however, Mrs. Paddington seemed to still be sleeping, and Nora filled her water jug undisturbed. She looked at the cloudy broth that came from the hollowed-out tree trunks in the poor district with disgust. The water came from the Thames. And all of the sewage also flowed into the Thames — no wonder that the Tanners and Paddingtons and certainly all of the others living in the East End preferred drinking gin. Beer and liquor were both cheaper than the country spring water that Nora had gone to great lengths to purchase the day before. It also helped the drinker to forget about the heat and humidity, the stale air, and the hours of hard labor in the factories.

  Nora had hoped that the city water would be good enough for freshening and washing up. She still strained it through a towel beforehand, as she had seen Joan do the night before to prepare for cooking.

  Simon was lying quietly in bed when Nora returned. This time he even allowed her to help him wash up and change into a fresh shirt. Nora remembered how her nursemaid had run a wet cloth across her sweaty body when she was sick. It was almost like a caress, and Simon seemed to feel the same. He moaned with pleasure — and something changed in his lower body, but Nora was too shy to take a closer look. Then he kissed her with a strange passion. Nora wondered if he was now starting with what was meant to happen on their wedding night. But then he was overwhelmed by fever and weakness. It seemed unbearably embarrassing to him.

  “I … I’m sorry,” he muttered as he stopped caressing her and slumped onto her shoulder with exhaustion. “Nora, on top of the fact that I can offer you nothing, I can’t even be a man for you. You should go …”

  Nora kissed his hair and wiped the sweat from his brow. She gently ran her fingers over the shadows under his eyes and stroked his sunken cheeks.

  “I’ll really go now!” She then said quietly. “I have to get to that doctor. But first you should drink some of the herbal infusion and eat some bread. It’s quite normal to feel weak when you are sick. It will get better soon, you just have to eat and rest. And don’t worry. I love you just the way you are!”

  Dr. Mason was busy once again when Nora finally arrived at his house.

  “An emergency,” his housemaid said shortly. “Come again later. The doctor is very busy.”

  Nora was getting annoyed, and only really believed the housemaid after asking throughout half of the district about another doctor. As it seemed, Dr. Mason was the only one who practiced in this area — no wonder he was overrun. Nora decided to try again early the next morning, and instead take today to do the laundry. Simon had no more clean shirts, and her own clothes were just as dirty. After spending a night in Mrs. Paddington’s “fresh” bedding, she was convinced that it too needed cleaning. However, she had no idea of how to go about it. In the Reed household, there was a laundry room, but Joan just stared at Nora blankly when she asked about it.

  “Where do you wash your laundry?” Nora asked discouraged. “I mean … there must be somewhere?”

  “In the Thames,” the girl answered. “A bit upstream, since it’s not so dirty. Just go up the river, Miss, you’ll see the laundry women there. Or shall I do it for you? It’s only a penny.”

  Nora shook her head, appalled. The fact that they used the Thames water explained why it had a grayish hue and such a musty smell. She remembered that bed linens and undergarments had to be boiled to really be clean. At the shop around the corner, she purchased lye and a few soap flakes — once again, it was not cheap, most people probably didn’t use soap at all — and then she examined her cooking equipment. The kettle was much too small to soak the laundry in it, moreover, Nora’s stomach turned at the thought of first boiling the undergarments, and then stew in the same pot. Then it occurred to her that Mrs. Tanner washed diapers — and it was hardly likely that she carried them to the river.

  In fact, there was a larger cauldron in the Tanners’ room. Nora borrowed it, and spent the next hour fetching the water from the public pipes and then straining it through towels, so that there were at least no dirt particles floating in it. When she had finally heated the water, soaked the laundry, then rinsed and wrung it out, she was exhausted like never before in her life. But at least the shirts and bedding were now bright white and hanging in front of the fireplace to dry. Simon, who had been watching her from beneath his covers, was impressed.

  “You were tailor-made for the colonies,” he said, fascinated. “I could really imagine us actually living in one of those huts like the natives … I just have to be healthy enough to build it for you.”

  “You’ll get better soon!” Nora said encouragingly, though she still wanted Dr. Mason to look at him. Even if it was too late for him to go with her, she could speak to the physician in order to set an appointment for the next day. She also wanted to go to the market in Cheapside. She had sold her dress to Mrs. Paddington and bought a simple wool one in its place, just like the one Mrs. Tanner wore. Not only because she needed money again, but also because she was tired of attracting attention when she walked through the streets. Anyway, this garment was shorter and more practical than her pretty afternoon dress. She was certainly not going to scrimp on the nightgown for their “wedding night” though. She was convinced that Simon would make her a woman as soon as he felt a little better, and she wanted to look nice for him.

  Regrettably, Nora was once again unsuccessful with Dr. Mason, but she wouldn’t be discouraged. She roamed through the business streets, ducking nervously under the tin shop signs that rattled dangerously in the wind. It was common for them to break off and tear down a part of the facade in the process. It wasn’t rare that passers-by were killed in such incidents.

  Suddenly, Nora heard a carriage approaching behind her. She turned around startled and froze. Nora tried to flee into a building entrance, but the next one led into a cafe — women were not permitted entrance. She ducked her head and hurried on. Maybe Peppers hadn’t recognized her in the simple dress, with which she wore a bonnet like the other women in the East End. She was able to turn down a side street that was not wide enough for a carriage. Nora jumped over a foul smelling puddle — the rubbish that the London citizens simply threw out in front of their houses collected on the street corners. She took out her handkerchief and held it in front of her nose. She was used to the smell of the city; even London’s boulevards stank of the sewage that was guided in open channels through the streets, as well as wet horses and rotting carcasses. But the walls of the carriage had always protected her from the worst of it. As a pedestrian, she was helpless against the refuse. Filth sprayed when the metal wheels of vehicles drove through it, and if you were unlucky, someone might empty dirty water, or even a chamber pot, on your head.

  The small lane was particularly nauseating, as several slaughterhouses had settled there. Nora had to be careful not to step into any decomposing animal intestines or skins. But the effort was worthwhile. After a short while, she had reached one of the larger streets around the tower and felt safer. Peppers couldn’t have possibly followed her. Now she only wondered how she would find her way back to the East End. While Nora was still orie
nting herself, she suddenly heard someone calling her name.

  “Miss Nora! Wait there! Don’t run away, Miss Nora!”

  Peppers was red in the face from running, and the stockings of his otherwise immaculate coachman’s uniform had been sprayed with dirt up to the breeches. He was trotting out of the slaughterhouse alleyway directly towards her.

  Nora turned around indecisively. “Peppers, I—”

  “I immediately recognized you!” the servant panted. “Despite your curious dress. Good heavens, Miss Nora, how we’ve worried about you!”

  Nora shrugged. “Quite wrongly, Peppers, as you can see. I’m just fine!”

  Peppers took a stern look at her slender figure, her ungloved hands that were red and chapped from the soap and hot water, and the ill-fitting bonnet atop her hair, which had been sloppily tied back on her neck.

  “I can see that,” he angrily pressed the words out from between his pursed lips.

  Nora decided to give up her proud attitude. “Please don’t tell on me, Peppers!” she said quietly. “I’ve found Simon, Mr. Greenborough … and he is very sick. Someone has to take care of him.”

  The coachman furrowed his brow. “And that person should be you, miss?” he asked, incredulously.

  Nora saw the scepticism on his face. Peppers loved his young mistress, but he didn’t think her capable of much beyond riding and dancing, playing the spinet, and conversing with other pampered ladies.

  Nora nodded. “Yes, me!” she said firmly. “And please, please don’t hinder my efforts! He loves me and needs me; he’ll die if I leave him. And I—” she bit her tongue, “I’ve never been so happy,” she exclaimed.

  Peppers hunched his shoulders. “I have no power to stop you, miss,” he then said hesitantly. “But your father … they’ve tried to contact him, but I don’t know if the letter has reached him yet. Amsterdam is far, but I have no doubt that he will come and get you as soon as he can.”

  “Another week could pass by then!” Nora pleaded. “Simon will already be healthy, he—”

  “The delivery boy said he has consumption,” Peppers noted sternly. “And I remember how he coughed in your carriage.”

  “It’s just a common cold, Peppers!” Nora explained. “In fact he’s already doing much better. I know what I’m doing.”

  The coachman pursed his lips and looked at the young woman searchingly. “You’re camping out with him in that hole in the East End?” he asked. “You’re playing the housewife?”

  Nora held her chapped hands out to the man and glared back at him. “It’s not a game!” she said angrily. “If only someone would believe me that this is not a game!”

  Peppers rubbed his forehead. “All right, Miss Nora,” he finally said. “I won’t tell anyone that I’ve found you. But I also can’t help you. I would have the devil to pay if I brought you money or—”

  “I don’t need any help!” Nora insisted. “Just leave us in peace.”

  Peppers incredulously raised his eyebrows and stifled a sigh. “Then go with God, miss,” he muttered. “And I hope your young lord appreciates you.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Nora ran back to the East End in high spirits despite the uncomfortable discussion with Peppers. It was embarrassing that the old servant had seen her in a dress that a maid wouldn’t even have worn in the Reed household. However, for all intents and purposes, the conversation had been a relief. The coachman had confirmed what she had been hoping for this entire time: it could be days, if not weeks until her father received the letter from his head clerk. And then he would still have to make the return journey. If all went well, by the time of his homecoming, Simon would be long since recovered, have a new position, and Nora would have proven to her father that she was serious. Surely half of the merchants were already whispering about his runaway daughter. He would have no other choice but to give her and Simon his blessing.

  It wasn’t until she returned to Simon’s rooms that Nora’s spirits deflated again. Mrs. Paddington lay in waiting for her, and reminded her of the outstanding weekly rent. It was not much, but Nora would have to raise the money alone, as Simon’s savings were depleted. She would have to pawn something again. Nonetheless, she wouldn’t be sending any money to Simon’s creditors and his greedy family! If Lady Samantha should see where they were staying!

  The thought cheered Nora up for a while, but then she was soon brought back to reality. The young woman quickly checked in on the Tanner children before climbing the stairs, and worried about the little Sarah’s cough and sniffles. The fire in the Tanner’s chimney had long gone out, and Nora couldn’t find more wood to rekindle it. Well, she would prepare a herbal infusion for Simon anyway, which she could also bring down for the children. It would still be hours before Mrs. Tanner returned, as the weaving mill closed late. Mr. Tanner didn’t work so long, but he liked to let the day fade away with a few gins at the pub. He never took care of his children.

  When she reached Simon’s room, she saw how bad he looked. Even more haggard and pale than the day before, and he didn’t want to eat anything. When Nora asked him at least to swallow a bit of the herbal infusion, he complained of chest pains. His breathing was fast and irregular.

  Nora decided she would ambush Dr. Mason the next day at the crack of dawn. She looked after the Tanner girls and then nestled up next to Simon. His body was burning with fever, but he still managed to take Nora in his arms. She happily lay on his shoulder, and told him about her meeting with Peppers.

  “My father will surely come round. And since this is now a scandal, he’ll likely think it a good idea to first send us away for a few years. What do you think, darling, Barbados? It’s warm there for the entire year and it also doesn’t rain so much. And the flowers bloom. Lady Wentworth says we couldn’t even imagine how colorful it is. Even the birds are like flowers. There are hummingbirds that are colorful, and have long beaks, and they can buzz in the air as if they were stationary—”

  “—and they suck nectar from the flowers,” Simon said softly. “I saw it in your book.”

  He had only briefly seen it in the carriage, but Simon read quickly and was intelligent. Undoubtedly, the picture of the palm trees on the beach also remained in his mind.

  “Imagine us already there …” he whispered. His voice sounded tired, but Nora was drunk on its dark melody. “We’re lying in our hut on the beach, we hear the waves washing over the sand, and want to dance in the moonlight, but we mustn’t go out, as it would disturb the turtles … they are burying their eggs in the sand—”

  “And when the baby turtles hatch, we quickly carry them into the water, so that the gulls and herons don’t catch them,” Nora laughed. “And we watch as they swim away. We give them our regards and we kiss. And your kisses taste like the sea.”

  Simon was the first to fall asleep, but he kept waking up throughout the night, and Nora feared he would cough his soul right out of his body. He hardly stirred when she washed him again in the morning and changed his shirt. She tried to joke as she made her first attempt at shaving him.

  “I’ll do it before I get the doctor. That way if I happen to cut your throat in the process, then we’ll save the fee.” Simon smiled weakly. It seemed difficult for him to follow her words. At least he looked neat and tidy when she eventually left him to finally force Dr. Mason out of his house. The young woman was pleased with the clean white pillows and linens surrounding him — the doctor would get a good impression. Nora remembered that her nursemaid had always been very careful to make her ward look neat when Dr. Morris came to treat her throat or stomach pain.

  Dr. Mason was actually at home, despite the fact that the sun was barely up and he already smelled of gin. He finally agreed to join Nora and see Simon but took another quick sip from his flask before leaving the house.

  “It’s only for my health,” he explained to Nora when he noticed her disapproving look. “You can only advise people against the water here. But liquor — well, it seems to help prevent diseases.
And I still haven’t contracted either consumption or cholera.”

  To his credit, Nora didn’t think he looked like a heavy drinker. She could already recognize them after a few days in the East End, with their red noses, glassy eyes, and unsteady gait. They were also often bloated — in spite of the meager victuals in the poor district. Dr. Mason, on the other hand, was tall and lean; his voluminous wig — which was long out of fashion, and so worn, and unkempt that one could imagine birds nesting in it — seemed to fluff out on his head like the crest of a silky fowl. Even his jacket had seen better days, but perhaps the doctor just cared little about his appearance. In any case, he was accustomed to the alleyways in the East End, and his similarly somewhat old-fashioned, high-heeled buckled shoes avoided the filth as if on their own accord.

  “So, this is about your … husband?” he asked Nora, who was balancing on tiptoe between the puddles with less than half as much grace. It was a cold, windy day and she pulled her cloak tightly around her. Dr. Mason gave the garment a brief, strange look. A warm, woolen cloak was rarely seen in this part of London.

  “My fiancé,” she specified. “It’s a persistent cold. He has been afflicted with it for months, but now I am here. I worry for him … we want to marry soon, you see.”

  Dr. Mason raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, but didn’t express anything else about her confession.

  “My fiancé is a lord,” Nora prattled on anxiously. “He is just going through a hardship, his father—”

  “Oh, the little lady has returned!”

  Nora held the door to the dilapidated building, and Mrs. Paddington shot directly out of her rooms like a vulture. This morning, she seemed particularly malicious, and unkempt, and stank of liquor. The Tanners had probably paid their rent the night before and the woman had immediately turned it into alcohol.

  “Well, has the princess even thought about her rent? And whom is she bringing with her? Is it another beau? That is unacceptable, my girl, this is a good and proper house. Although, you could undoubtedly earn something from it …”