Erin’s Child

by Erin's Child (retail) (epub)

  He permitted her to take a mint. ‘Belle – that accounts for your propensity for a ding-dong.’

  She made a sound of utter contempt. ‘Would you mind taking your silly humour elsewhere?’ and slapped the book down onto her lap. Of all the stupid individuals with whom she had to share a compartment…

  ‘And where do you suggest I take it?’ asked Brian mischievously, indicating their enclosure. ‘Of course, I could always disembark at the next stop and travel the rest of the way on the roof.’

  ‘That would be most agreeable,’ snapped Belle tartly.

  ‘I’m sure it would – for both of us. Oh, come on, girl, let yourself go. Here I am trying to make a long journey a bit more pleasant and all you can find to do is sneer.’

  ‘I am not sneering, despite the fact that your humour is on a par with that supplied by the inmates of the nursery. I simply wish to be left alone to read my book in peace. Is that too much to ask?’

  ‘My, my,’ retorted Brian. ‘What a mouthful.’ Then sighed. ‘Very well, I give up,’ and settled back into his seat to stare at her, which was even more unwelcome than his conversation.

  Belle’s face grew hot under the close inspection and she was most thankful when the engine driver applied his brakes to enter another station, the sudden jerk waking her mother and obliging Brian to finally tear his eyes away.

  Erin apologised for being such bad company, then asked Belle to fetch her a cup of tea from the wagon on the station. It was while Belle watched the tea-woman pour black brew into two cups that there was a sudden commotion to her right.

  ‘You little bleeder!’ A man in a checked suit took a swipe at a boy’s head, knocking him clean off his feet.

  Belle launched into an indignant attack. ‘You lout! Leave him be.’

  ‘Listen, this ’ere ruffian just spilt tea all down me front!’ He dabbed at his clothes.

  ‘And that was sufficient to warrant such violence?’ Belle stabbed a finger at the groaning figure on the platform whose ear trickled red. ‘The child spills your tea so you must spill his blood.’ She helped the boy to his feet and nulling a handkerchief from her pocket tended his bleeding ear.

  ‘That’s the trouble wi’ these modern women,’ sneered the man to those who might be listening. ‘Think they’ve got the right to poke their noses into other folk’s business. I know what I’d do with her if she were mine.’

  ‘When violence occurs to a child it is everyone’s business,’ rejoined Belle. ‘You may have damaged him for life with your brutality.’

  ‘Bleedin’ hell,’ muttered the man to the tea-stall woman as he sipped a replacement. ‘You’d think it were Little Lord Fauntleroy instead of a scabby bloody guttersnipe.’

  Belle peered into the child’s dirty ear. ‘I think we should have a doctor see to this.’ Her travelling companion was going to have his uses after all. Paying for the tea she ordered the boy to follow, and returned to the train.

  Brian, seeing her coming, opened the door, but just as she neared it someone barged past her, knocking one of the cups from its saucer and spilling hot tea down her green velvet outfit. ‘I say, was there any need for that?’ Brian glared at the man in the checked suit – the same one who had just hit the boy – who had seated himself unconcernedly in their compartment. He leapt out to help Belle.

  ‘Don’t concern yourself with that!’ she snapped impolitely whilst glowering at the intruder. ‘I want you to have a look at this boy’s ear. That boorish lout has just dealt him a nasty blow.’

  While Brian examined the boy’s ear Belle handed the remaining cup to her mother who was watching the enactment worriedly. ‘What d’you think?’

  ‘Well, it’s difficult to say,’ murmured Brian, holding the greasy head on a slant, trying to shed light on the orifice. ‘Not being able to give him a proper examination.’

  ‘I thought you said you were a doctor.’

  ‘I am, but this is hardly the place…’

  ‘Nonsense, I’ve heard of doctors performing operations on kitchen tables. You have the instruments, don’t you?’ She gesticulated at the bag on the luggage rack.

  ‘Yes, but even if I ascertained the damage there’s little I could do,’ protested Brian, annoyed at being forced into such a position.

  ‘If you’re worried about being paid,’ snapped Belle, reaching for her purse.

  ‘Oh, please don’t talk rot.’ Brian flicked his hand. ‘The train is about to pull out at any moment. I can’t possibly be expected to give a proper diagnosis and treatment in such a short time.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to take him with us,’ said Belle.

  Erin felt it her duty to intervene. Her wayward daughter was attracting too much attention. ‘Belle, will ye drop this fanciful notion. ’Tis quite impossible to take the boy with us an’ you know it. For one thing, what are his parents going to say when he doesn’t return? And your grandparents don’t want their home cluttering with strangers. Now stop embarrassing everyone an’ get back in the carriage.’

  After a short period of defiance Belle capitulated with bad grace. Taking one of the sovereigns which she had saved from her purse she handed it to the injured party. ‘I’m sorry, it seems that no one here is willing to help you. Please take this to a proper doctor and he’ll treat your ear.’

  The intended insult was not lost on Brian. Nevertheless, on climbing back into the carriage, he addressed the man in the checked suit. ‘Sir, I think you owe this lady an apology for spoiling her clothes.’

  The other smiled brazenly, ‘She don’t mind, do you, dear? A drop o’ tea’s nothing to get steamed up about,’ and went back to his paper.

  Brian would have said more on the matter but Erin, not wanting another unsettling display, leapt in with a question and the young man took his seat. It was not simply the oaf who angered him but Belle’s attempts to discredit, insinuating that he was not a qualified doctor. He refrained from further conversation with her, not offering to take the empty teacups back. These had to be left on the station as there was no time to return them.

  The train moved off once more to embark on the most disagreeable portion of the journey. The man in the checked suit lit a cheap cigar and though Brian opened a window the smoke continued to annoy them. So did the man, who set up a string of ill-bred comments on each item he read in his newspaper, boring them all with his bigoted opinions. Luckily, when he realised that his narrative was ignored by the others, he fell asleep – though his somnolent presence was almost as obnoxious as his conscious one, loud snores accompanying the kitty-come-home of the wheels.

  Belle was still reading. What’s in that book that’s so interesting, thought Brian irritably, and why is she so damned rude? After a further fifty minutes the train pulled into another small station where, having paused just long enough for passengers to alight, it gave an enormous jerk and set off again. The man in the checked suit woke with a grunt and stared blearily about him.

  ‘Oh, Christ, this is my stop!’ Still befuddled he leapt from the moving train… only to find he had left his luggage on the rack. Pounding alongside the carriage he had just vacated he shouted to Brian, ‘Hey, you! Throw my bag out the window, will you?’

  ‘Certainly!’ Brian rose, took hold of the Gladstone bag and hurled it from the window… on the track side. He chuckled at the others as the cries of outrage were lost amid the clanking of the train wheels and the tooting of the whistle. ‘That might teach him a few manners!’ And for the first time on the journey Belle smiled.

  When they arrived at York, sooty and crumpled, Brian ignored Belle’s protests when he helped with their luggage. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t throw it onto the track,’ he vouched, coaxing a reluctant smile from her. Erin thanked him as he loaded the cases onto a porter’s trolley and said it had been very nice travelling with him.

  ‘I’ve enjoyed it too,’ answered Brian, adding hurriedly before they walked away, ‘Perhaps we could meet again some time?’ He had been delighted to find them alighting at the
same stop as himself.

  ‘I’m sure that would be very nice.’ replied Erin, but made no definite offer. Doctor Dyson was a very presentable young man, but those looks he had been giving Belle… it simply would not do.

  And so she escaped him – but not forever. Brian felt sure they would meet again. York was a very small place.

  * * *

  Though her mother’s letters had kept her up to date with all the family affairs, Belle didn’t mind hearing them again from Nick who happened to be the only one in the house when they arrived. She showed surprise as his voice summoned her when she clomped past his bedroom door on the way to her own. When she pushed the door further open there he was in bed, looking very washed-out. ‘Good Lord! I didn’t think indispensable people like you were allowed to be ill – what’s up?’

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s not catching,’ he told her wanly, motioning her to sit on the bed. ‘I bought a pie for lunch yesterday – must’ve been manky; I’ve been up and down all night and all morning.’ He levered himself up. ‘Hey, what about this degree then?’

  She censored the question to ask for his news; it might be more enlightening than Mother’s. ‘Well, let’s see…’ He squirmed his back into the mound of pillows. ‘Nothing much to tell about Grandad, he’s still digging the praties with Rosie his scribe.’ Belle asked if Rosie had chosen a young man yet. ‘No, she likes the variety.’ Though Nick wasn’t gulled like the others. It hadn’t taken him long to discover that she was still seeing Timothy. His hopes that it was just a fling had been exploded by the duration of the affair – she was obviously intent on marrying Rabb. But Nick felt that part of the attraction was that Timothy was forbidden fruit; once his sister was legally able to marry the idea might just seem less exciting. For this reason he would not tell Belle or anyone. As long as Rosie didn’t get pregnant – and she wouldn’t, for he had kept her furnished with preventative means – then he couldn’t see the harm in it. ‘You know of course,’ he went on, ‘that I’m managing the York store now?’ Belle nodded. Her mother had told her that now the Leeds and Bradford stores were in action Nan was travelling daily to look after the first while Francis had moved into digs in Bradford to manage that store. Neither would be permanent of course, it was far too tiring. Nick told Belle of his hopes that Nan would not overlook him when hiring someone to manage the Leeds store.

  ‘Are there no bounds to your ambition? You’ve hardly been in charge of this shop for five minutes.’

  ‘And you should see the improvements I’ve made, Belle! Just think of what I could bring to the Leeds store. Anyway, enough of me. I know you don’t like to talk about it, but what about this Master’s degree?’

  ‘You’re right! I don’t want to talk about it.’ She rose. ‘I’ve had enough from Mother. I’m off for a wash, then I’m going to meet Gramps. See you later.’ She left Nick with the impression that she wasn’t keen to go back to university – but then what was she going to do instead? He and the rest of the family were to find that out quite soon.

  Belle had been home but two days when she asked her grandfather if he would accompany her to Hungate again. He clapped a hand over his brow. ‘Oh, God love us, I thought ye’d got that out o’ your bloodstream by now. I’m an old man, Belle, I can’t be doin’ with all that rough stuff – an’ your mother will go up in the air if she finds out.’ Belle, stubborn as always, said she would go by herself if he wouldn’t take her. ‘I don’t doubt it! What’s your plan this time?’

  ‘No plan. I just thought it might be nice if someone showed an interest in how Lol Kearney is getting on these days.’

  ‘People don’t “get on” in that sort of environment, Belle. They just muddle through.’

  ‘All the more reason why we should go and cheer up his day.’

  ‘I don’t know why I bother to put up these token arguments! You an’ Rosie are a pair. No wonder I’m getting to be all bent up – it comes from being twisted round so many little fingers.’ Though Rosie did seem a bit easier to cope with these days and had evidendy got over her flirtation with Rabb. Apparently she was quite keen on the young man who was courting her at the moment. Pat hoped he would last a bit longer than the others had done. He rang for John to fetch the carriage. ‘I don’t know how ye expect to find Lol in that warren. Ye don’t even know his address – I trust ye’re not suggesting we go knocking on every door?’

  ‘I have accumulated some gumption since the last time,’ said Belle, tugging on her gloves. ‘We’ll stay in the carriage. It’s safer and we probably won’t need to go knocking on doors, Lol will be out in the street.’

  He was. Though it was a couple of years or so since they had seen him last they had no difficulty in recognising him. At fourteen, his height had barely increased, his weight – by the look of him – not at all. His arms and legs were like sticks of charcoal, his mouth still ringed with sores.

  ‘Lol!’ Belle beckoned him from the carriage. ‘It’s Miss Teale – Aunt Belle. Remember?’

  He loped up, warily at first, then recognising them his face split into a grin. ‘Oh, hello, miss, sir…’ He didn’t know what else to say.

  Belle said it for him. ‘How nice to see you again, Lol,’ she uttered genuinely and reached her hand from the carriage to touch his face. ‘Would you like to come for a ride with us?’

  ‘To your house, yer mean?’ To Lol there was no point in going for a ride if there was nothing at the terminus. At Peasholme Green he knew there would be food.

  ‘If you like. Then perhaps you could stay to tea with us?’

  Lol didn’t need asking twice and when the carriage door was opened for him he jumped inside. The hood was up today, for the weather was none too warm. It was all dark and leathery inside.

  ‘Are those your friends?’ Belle pointed to a handful of other children who stood, awestruck, in the road. ‘Perhaps they would like to come too?’

  ‘Nah!’ Lol waved his hand disparagingly. ‘We don’t want them with us.’ He didn’t want anyone spoiling his treat, nor sharing the food.

  ‘That’s selfish, Lol,’ reproved Belle sternly and turned to her grandfather. ‘Do you mind… ?’

  ‘I don’t know why ye bother to ask me,’ sighed Patrick. ‘Ye’ve every intention o’ taking them whatever I say.’

  Belle crooked a finger at the ragged children who came rushing over, clambering onto the wheels of the carriage and pressing excited noses to the shiny bodywork – a morning’s work up the spout, groaned John to himself. ‘Would you children like to join your friend and take a ride with us?’ Like Lol the urchins needed no arm-twisting and piled into the carriage, kneeling and scrambling over the seats, one of them even having the temerity to plant herself on Patrick’s lap.

  ‘See, I told yer about my friends an’ yer wouldn’t believe me,’ said Lol boastfully to the others.

  ‘I’m not altogether sure this is a good idea, Belle.’ Patrick struggled in discomfort as the fleshless bottom grated his femur. ‘Their parents might get the idea they’ve been abducted.’

  ‘I doubt they’ll even notice they’re missing,’ replied Belle. ‘But don’t worry, we’ll just keep them long enough for Mrs Howgego to feed them up.’

  ‘She’s going to love you.’

  Belle turned her attention to Lol as the carriage set in motion. ‘How have things been with you since last we met? Are your parents still as hard on you?’

  ‘Haven’t got none now,’ said Lol unconcernedly. ‘They’re both dead.’

  ‘Good heavens! But what has become of your brothers and sisters and yourself?’

  ‘A man took ’em away,’ Lol informed her. ‘Didn’t catch me, though. I hid till he’d gone.’

  ‘But where d’you live? Who takes care of you?’

  ‘Don’t need nobody to take care o’ me,’ said Lol disdainfully. ‘Take care o’ meself. I sleep at Mrs Dalton’s on a night. S’just the same as before really.’

  ‘But how d’ye live, son?’ enquired Patrick over the lousy l
ittle head. Lol asked what he meant. ‘Well, d’ye work or what?’

  ‘Sometimes, if I feel like it.’

  ‘An’ what d’ye do for food?’

  ‘By the look of him he only eats when he feels like it too,’ commented Belle. ‘Does this Mrs Dalton provide food?’

  He shook his head. ‘Too many kids of her own. But don’t fuss about Lol – he won’t starve.’

  ‘I do worry though, Lol,’ said Belle strongly. ‘A boy of your age shouldn’t have to fend for himself.’

  ‘I’m almost a man,’ came the indignant response.

  ‘Man or not you need a proper home and regular meals, not just when you can cadge it.’ She made to beseech her grandfather.

  ‘Don’t say it, Belle,’ he warded her off. ‘If there’s something ye want to do, do it, but don’t involve me for I know who your mother will blame when this gets out.’

  Belle formed her lips into a smile. ‘Thanks, Gramps. I’ll tell Mother you had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she’ll believe ye.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mrs Howgego threw up her hands and declared that there would never be enough food in her pantry to feed this lot. But of course to children who doubtless ate little more than bread and scrape, the meal that she saw as a hastily put-together snack they regarded as a banquet.

  ‘How long can they stay?’ Belle asked her grandfather.

  ‘As long as they’re out o’ the house before your Nan an’ your mother get home life’ll be a lot safer.’

  Though she hated to let them go Belle obeyed his request. After the children had taken their fill and each been provided with an apple and an orange she piled them into the carriage. ‘Well, children, have you enjoyed your treat?’

  The chorused their assent. Only Lol was silent. But he wouldn’t be soon. Belle smiled inwardly, imagining his gratitude when she told him. She wished she could help them all but it just wasn’t possible at the moment. The carriage turned into Garden Place where Belle told John to pull up. Garden Place, she thought grimly, what a ridiculous name – not a flower in sight. John climbed down and held the horse’s head. ‘Show some manners and open the door for Miss Belle,’ he ordered Lol.