by Anna King
The rugged face staring down into hers smiled gently. ‘I think your sister isn’t the only one who’s had a shock. Now, why don’t you be sensible and let me help. There’s no way I’m going to let you travel home the state you’re in. When you’ve rested I’ll drive you both home in my carriage.’ When Rebecca still hesitated, the smiling man added, ‘If not for your own sake then for your sister’s.’
An old woman shambled up beside them, her thin lips parted into a toothless smile of concern. ‘C’mon, love. Mr Jackson’s right. Yer poor sister can hardly stand, an’ yer don’t look much better yerself.’
Knowing the man and woman were right, Rebecca nodded tiredly, but when she felt the tears again beginning to well up behind her eyes she quickly lowered her head. She couldn’t remember crying since her parents’ and brothers’ deaths, and although she had good reason to shed a few tears now, she couldn’t bear to let strangers see her cry, no matter how kind they were. But her efforts were in vain.
‘That’s it, love, you ’ave a good cry,’ the old woman cooed maternally. ‘It’ll do yer the world of good. It’s all very well trying ter be brave, but yer’ll only do yerself more harm than good if yer try ter bottle it up.’
Devoid of all resistance now, Rebecca let herself be led away, thankful to have a strong body to lean against and grateful for the muscular arms holding her tight. Behind her, a crying, trembling Amy was also being helped along by two women, their arms wrapped protectively around her small body. At the entrance to the three-storey building, the man stopped and turned to the old woman. Vaguely Rebecca saw him dip his hand into his pocket and extract a shiny coin, placing it into the kindly woman’s grubby hand.
‘Oh, no, Mr Jackson. I can’t take yer money, I ain’t done nothing ter deserve it.’ All the same, her hand had tightened around the coin, a look of profound relief crossing her wrinkled face.
‘Take it, Flo, and buy yourself a hot dinner. Just don’t let that no-good husband of yours get his hands on it, else he’ll be straight down the pub and you won’t see a penny of it. Promise me now.’
The woman pulled a tattered black shawl tighter across her scrawny chest and smiled ruefully. ‘Don’t worry, Mr Jackson. That old bastard ain’t getting his ’ands on this.’ Her voice, now holding a tremor, added softly, ‘Gawd bless yer, Mr Jackson. I was at me wits’ end just a few minutes ago. The rent man’s due, there ain’t a bit of food in the ’ouse, an’ that old bastard of a ’usband of mine took me last few coppers from me purse while I was asleep an’…’
The man called Mr Jackson patted the old woman’s shoulder, smiling sympathetically. ‘You know where I live, Flo. If you’re ever in trouble, come and see me – not that you will, you’re too bloody proud. Look. I’ll ask around and see if I can find you some part-time work. I’ve got a few people who owe me favours, I’ll see what I can do.’
Dimly Rebecca listened, wishing they would conclude their conversation quickly. She was feeling hot and giddy, and was blinking her eyes and shaking her head in an effort to stay conscious. The ordeal she had suffered was finally taking its toll. Looking over her shoulder to where Amy was being supported by the two women, her pretty face blotched with tears, her tiny body still trembling with fear, Rebecca thought of what could have happened to her beloved sister if this kindly man and the women from the market hadn’t come along when they had, and the prospect was so horrifying she felt sick. Her head began to swim alarmingly, then her vision blurred as darkness swept over her. She tried valiantly to shake off the unfamiliar sensation but it was no use. The last words she heard were Amy screaming her name, and the old woman crying out, ‘Oh, the poor little cow, she’s…’ Then nothing but blissful, oblivious darkness.
Chapter Three
‘Well I’ve done all I can, Jimmy. What the two young women need now is to go home and let their parents take care of them. At the risk of stating the obvious, they’ve both had a severe shock. Nasty piece of business all round, poor little things. Anyway, I’ll be off now, Jimmy. Like I said, there’s nothing else I can do, so I’ll leave them in your capable hands.’ The tall, well-dressed man picked up his black Gladstone bag and top hat and moved towards the door. ‘I’ve left a bottle of medicine on the sideboard. It’s a mild sedative, just in case they need a little extra to what I’ve already given them. But I doubt if they’ll need more than another dose tonight. The young are very resilient. Once they’ve got over the shock of being attacked, they’ll probably be too angry to waste time brooding.’
The two men walked to the door and shook hands.
‘Are we still on for the game tonight, Tom?’
The doctor smiled, then gave a small chuckle. ‘You won’t be happy until you’ve bankrupted me, will you, Jimmy? Eight o’clock all right?’
‘That’ll be fine, Tom. See you later… And, Tom, thanks.’
‘You won’t be thanking me when you get my bill, it’s the only time I ever get any money out of you.’
Behind the two men, Rebecca lay motionless on the long, comfortable sofa. Her eyes were closed, but her mind was beginning to clear, and the event that had occurred only a short while ago replayed itself over in her mind. Her body gave an involuntary jerk as she recalled the awful experience, and for a brief moment she wondered if she had dreamt the whole sordid affair, so unreal did it seem now she and Amy were safely settled in this warm, comfortable house. With a great deal of effort, she struggled to open her eyes, then sighed with relief at the sight of Amy curled up on a matching sofa to the one she was lying on, apparently dead to the world. Rebecca closed her eyes again, wanting to remain in this blissful state of peace and tranquillity, but her inner strength wouldn’t allow her to luxuriate in her present form of mind. Gathering all her willpower, she slowly opened her eyes again and tried to sit up, only to find herself being gently but firmly laid down once more. Blinking rapidly, she tried to focus on the face that leant over hers, and found herself looking into a pair of warm brown eyes filled with genuine concern.
‘Now, now, young lady, you just rest a while longer. The medicine the doctor gave you will be wearing off soon, then I’ll see about getting you and your sister home. Your parents must be getting worried by now. In the meantime I’ll get my housekeeper to make some hot, strong tea and—’
‘We don’t have any parents… we live with… with our cousin and brother…’ Rebecca’s tongue seemed to be glued to the top of her mouth. Running a dry tongue over her parched lips, she tried to continue. ‘We have to get… get home. My cousin is bedridden, and… and one of the neigh… neighbours is looking after her. She’ll want paying extra if… if we’re late home, and…’
Strong hands pushed her back down on the soft cushions. ‘Don’t you worry about your neighbour, I’ll see to her… Ah, there comes the tea.’ The man smiled as a small, elderly woman came into the room carrying a tray. ‘Best medicine in the world for shock, or so I’m told.’ Turning to the woman behind him he said softly, ‘Pour out a cup of tea, will you, Bessie, and try and wake up the girl, will you?’ As the woman laid down a cup of steaming tea on the table by Rebecca’s side, the man added, ‘And tell Charlie to get the carriage ready when you’ve seen to the girl.’
The housekeeper glanced at her master and grunted amicably, ‘Yes, Mr Jackson. Of course, Mr Jackson. Anything else you’d like me ter do, Mr Jackson? Stick a broom up me arse and sweep the floor while I’m at it?’
The dark-haired man laughed fondly. ‘Now that you mention it, Bessie, the carpets could do with a good clean. You’re getting slip shod in your old age.’
The elderly woman shot her master a withering look, but her eyes were twinkling with mirth as she replied curtly, ‘I ain’t too old ter give you a clip round the ear, yer sarky git.’
Rebecca listened to the genial banter in bewilderment. She didn’t know much about how the other half lived, but the woman certainly didn’t seem to act like Rebecca imagined a housekeeper should towards her master. As if reading her mind, the man looked at
Rebecca and winked broadly.
‘Don’t take any notice of Bessie. She’s got a heart of gold. I’ve known her since I was a nipper with the ars – backside hanging out of my trousers. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her, she’s—’
‘If yer was gonna say arse, then say it. Backside… Huh!’
Rebecca looked over to where the woman was gently coaxing Amy awake, and despite the trauma she’d been through, she felt her lips curving into a smile. The woman called Bessie saw the tremulous smile and grinned back.
‘Yer wouldn’t think it ter ’ear ’im talk, but he was brought up in the back streets of Bow. Proper little tea leaf he was an’ all. An’ his language – Gawd Almighty, it’d ’ave made a sailor blush, an’ ’im only nine at the time. Now he’s gone up in the world, he finks he’s Lord Muck. But yer should ’ear him when he’s in a temper. There ain’t no posh talking then, I can tell yer. Effing and blinding an’—’
‘All right, Bessie, that’s enough,’ the soft voice had hardened. ‘I’m sure our guests aren’t interested in my background. Leave the girl, and tell Charlie to bring the carriage round now.’
The smile dropped from the elderly woman’s face, her demeanour changing as she realised she’d gone too far. Propping the still drowsy Amy up onto a pile of cushions, she said quietly, ‘All right, Jimmy. I’ll go and get Charlie straight away.’
As she walked from the room, the man rose swiftly to his feet calling out, ‘Bessie, Bessie. Hang on a minute.’ But the stiff-faced woman had already left the room. Swinging around, the man dropped into the armchair facing Rebecca and smiled ruefully. ‘Sorry about that. There’s times I could cheerfully strangle her. But she’ll make me pay for talking to her like that. Oh yes! It’ll be the silent reproachful looks and my meals slammed down in front of me for days now.’ He spread his arms wide and grinned. ‘Bloody cantankerous old cow.’ Rolling his eyes upwards he laughed out loud. ‘Now you know she was right about me. I always revert to my cockney upbringing when I get in a temper. But you know what?’ He leant forward. ‘I’m glad I’ve got Bessie around. Because if ever I start getting too big for my boots, she’s always there to bring me back down to earth and, as you’ve noticed, she doesn’t mince her words.’
As she listened to the man talking, something was niggling at the back of Rebecca’s mind, something that wasn’t quite right. Trying to concentrate she attempted to think what it was that was troubling her. Then it came to her, and the realisation of whose house she was in brought her bolt upright.
‘You’re Jimmy Jackson the bookmaker, aren’t you?’
The man was about to answer the question with a cheerful retort, when something about the look in the young girl’s eyes stopped him. His face straight now, he said, ‘Yes, I’m Jimmy Jackson, the bookie, does that trouble you? You’re not one of the Salvation Army mob, are you?’
Swinging her legs over the side of the sofa, Rebecca replied stiffly, ‘No, I’m not. But I do have a brother who’s addicted to gambling, to the extent that some weeks he doesn’t come home because he’s bet and lost his entire week’s wages, which in turn means the rest of us have to live on whatever my sister earns. And ten shillings a week doesn’t go far when there’s four mouths to feed and the rent to be paid. And guess who the runners who take his bets work for?’ Rebecca’s head was up, her eyes challenging him, then her gaze faltered as she saw the look of anger beginning to burn in the dark eyes.
‘I’m a businessman, Miss, not a thug. Nobody forces people to place bets with my runners. It’s people like your brother who seek us out, not the other way round – at least, not the people who work for me. It would be more than their jobs were worth, and they know it.’ Jimmy Jackson stared back hard at the young woman, wondering why he was wasting his breath. Women like this one, glaring up at him as if he were the devil’s advocate, would always put the blame of their men’s shortcomings down to men like himself.
Impatiently, he tutted and turned his broad back on Rebecca, saying sharply now, ‘If you and your sister are ready, I’ll go and see what’s keeping the carriage.’ Nodding brusquely, he turned swiftly and left the room, his sudden departure leaving Rebecca feeling as if she had just lost something dear to her, and these feelings in return had her stumbling to her feet in annoyance. Embarrassed and flustered, Rebecca looked over to where Amy seemed to have fallen back to sleep.
‘Amy! Amy, wake up, love. We’re going home. Come on now…’ Rebecca added hastily, as her sister showed no signs of moving from the comfortable confines of the couch. ‘Amy! I said we’re going. Hurry up, for goodness’ sake. I don’t want to leave Mrs Gates with Maude too long.’
Amy, her eyes still filled with drowsiness from the sedative she had been given earlier, answered softly, ‘I’m ready, Becky, I’m ready. I just feel a bit tired, that’s all.’ A wide yawn split her young face as if to give evidence to her words, then she grinned sheepishly. ‘Sorry, Becks, I feel I could go to sleep on a clothesline at the minute.’ Slipping her slim legs to the floor, Amy got unsteadily to her feet. Then, her eyes wary, she asked hesitantly, ‘Are we walking home, Becky? Only I still feel a bit groggy and…’
Rebecca was quick to see the look of fear that crossed Amy’s face and swiftly dropped the notion of refusing the offer of a lift home from Jimmy Jackson. Anyway, her own feelings concerning the man’s business must be put aside so she could thank him properly for all his kindness. After all, he had saved her and Amy from a very unpleasant experience, an experience that could have ended in tragedy if he hadn’t intervened when he had.
Helping Amy to the door, Rebecca reassured her sister quickly, ‘No, it’s all right, love. Mr Jackson has kindly offered us a lift home. Can you make it downstairs?’ Rebecca’s eyebrows furrowed in concern at the sight of Amy’s pallid face.
Bravely attempting a smile, Amy answered, ‘Of course I can. I told you, I’m just feeling a bit wobbly. I’ll be fine once I get home.’
Their arms around each other, the two girls were about to leave the room when Bessie, her lined face creased further with concern, appeared out of nowhere, her strident voice filling the air. ‘’Ere, where you two off to? Hang on while I get some help.’ Swirling around she looked at Rebecca and demanded, ‘An’ where’s his nibs gorn ter? He was suppose ter be looking after the two of yer.’
Rebecca forced a smile to her face. ‘It’s all right, really, Mrs… um…’
‘Bessie, love. Me name’s Bessie. We don’t stand on ceremony around ’ere.’
Finding herself at a disadvantage, Rebecca smiled back weakly. She wasn’t very good at first names, at least not until she had known the person concerned for some time… Still…
‘Thank you, Bessie, but like I said, we’re fine. If you’d be good enough to show the way, we’d be very grateful. Also I, that is, we, would like to thank Mr Jackson for his kindness, if you could find him for us before we leave.’
The elderly woman stared at the young woman, her quick eyes noting the high colour that was staining the pretty face and neck. Grinning knowingly, she nudged Rebecca in the side.
‘Good-looking sod, ain’t he? Got all the women round these parts falling over themselves to get at him. Can’t blame ’em either. If I hadn’t been like a mother ter him, and was thirty years younger, I’d ’ave a go meself.’ She chuckled, a loud raucous laugh.
Rebecca’s face tightened. ‘Really, Mrs… I mean, Bessie. That thought had never occurred to me, I can assure you.’
But Bessie only laughed louder.
‘C’mon, ducks. Let the starch outta yer drawers. There’s no harm in admitting ter fancying a bloke, ’specially a bloke like my Jimmy. And don’t yer worry about thanking him neither. He’d ’ave done the same for anyone. He’s a good bloke, is Jimmy, one of the best.’
‘He’s also a bookmaker, and people like your Mr Jackson don’t know the misery they can cause. Or if they do, then they don’t care as long as their own pockets are kept lined by those less fortunate.’
>
The smile had dropped from the old woman’s face, all laughter gone now as she faced this young madam who had just done the unforgivable in Bessie’s book. She had slandered Jimmy’s name, and nobody did that in front of Bessie Wilks. Glaring now, she poked a bony finger in a startled Rebecca’s chest.
‘’E also ’appens ter be the man who saved you and yer sister from ’aving yer knickers pulled round yer ankles, you ungrateful little cow.’
Amy, now wide awake, started to tremble in the face of this little woman’s fury, and wondered why Becky had to go and say something like that. She was always upsetting somebody, was Becky. She didn’t do it deliberately, Amy mused quietly, it was just a knack her elder sister seemed to have.
Any further altercation was stopped by the appearance of a young man, shabbily but cleanly dressed, who stuck his dark head around the door, asking cheerfully, ‘You ladies ready ter go? Mr Jackson’s waiting fer yer both downstairs… All right, Bessie?’ he inclined his head at the still glowering woman.
‘Yeah, I’m fine, Charlie. Our guests were just leaving.’
Sensing the atmosphere, the young man backed from the room, his eyes quickly raking the visitors appreciatively before leaving, his heavy boots making a loud thudding noise as he ran back downstairs.
Feeling awkward and a little guilty now, Rebecca said stiffly, ‘I’m sorry if I offended you. I meant no harm and… and I’d like to thank you again for all you’ve done for us today. You’ve been very kind.’
For an answer the elderly woman sniffed loudly and turned to Amy. ‘You look after yerself, ducks, an’ if you’re ever passing by, drop in fer a cuppa, eh.’
‘I will,’ promised Amy, who then impulsively threw her arms around the elderly woman. ‘And thank you so much, Bessie.’
Somewhat embarrassed by the emotional show of affection by her sister, and still feeling flustered and guilty by her attitude concerning her saviour, Rebecca quickly bundled Amy out of the door and down the stairs to the waiting carriage.