A Mother's Wish (23 page)

‘There’s tea in the pot, but I expect it’s stewed,’ Mrs Hoskins said, wringing out the mop. ‘Where is that boy? He’ll get a clip round the ear if he don’t get a move on.’ She went to the door. ‘Oh, there you are, boy. You took your time, I must say. Come in and give the young lady her things.’

‘I had to chase the blooming horse halfway to Bow, missis,’ the boy protested.

Effie froze at the sound of his voice. She turned slowly, hardly daring to breathe.

‘
HERE YOU ARE,
missis.’

‘Tom, is it really you?’ She blinked hard to make sure that her eyes were not deceiving her. He was painfully thin and his skin was almost obliterated by a layer of dirt. His hair was a matted mass of dark curls spiked with pieces of bedding straw, but he was unmistakeably Tom.

‘Effie.’ He stood as if transfixed, staring at her in disbelief. ‘No, it can’t be. I’m dreaming. Pinch me, someone.’

‘I’ll pinch you,’ Mrs Hoskins said, cuffing him round the head. ‘Look what them dirty boots have done to my nice clean floor.’

‘Ouch,’ Tom clutched his hand to his head, but his gaze never wavered from his sister’s face. ‘Bloody hell, Effie. What have you done to yourself? Ouch, that hurt even more,’ he cried as his employer clouted him for a second time.

‘It was meant to,’ she said angrily. ‘I won’t have that sort of language in my house.’

Tears streamed down Effie’s face as she
held out her good arm. ‘Tom, my dear, dear Tom. I’ve been out of my mind with worry about you and yet here you are. I can hardly believe it.’

He rushed to her and gave her a hug, which made her cry out with pain. He took a step backwards. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Effie. It’s just that – well – I’m lost for words. How did you know where to find me?’

‘I didn’t,’ Effie said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Toby was supposed to be looking for you, but he let me down.’

‘No, he didn’t. Toby found me, but I was sick with the measles and he took me to his people in the gypsy camp.’

‘That proves I was right,’ Mrs Hoskins said angrily. ‘I don’t hold with travellers.’

Effie placed her arm protectively around Tom’s thin shoulders. ‘You’ve no need to worry, Mrs Hoskins. We’ll be moving on as soon as I’ve changed my clothes.’

‘I think you’d best go straight away, missis. I don’t want no gypsy coming to look for the boy and bringing his thieving didicoi ways here to a respectable house.’

‘That’s not fair,’ Tom protested. ‘You can’t talk to my sister like that, you old hag.’

‘Tom,’ Effie said sternly. ‘That’s enough. Mrs Hoskins has been very kind to me, and
she’s entitled to her opinions, even if they are misjudged.’

‘Just go and leave us in peace. You can pay what you owe and take some food for the road. I won’t have anyone say that Janet Hoskins ain’t a fair woman, nor a mean one.’ She took a square of butter muslin from the table drawer and proceeded to wrap up what was left of the loaf and a chunk of cheese. ‘Make yourself useful, boy. Go and bring the mare to the door so that your sister don’t have far to walk.’

Tom shot her a resentful glance. ‘I ain’t going to thank you for taking me in. You got your money’s worth out of me in kind, so I paid me way.’ He turned to his sister and his small features relaxed into a fond smile. ‘Get your shoes on, Effie. We’re leaving.’

Half an hour later they had left the lock keeper’s cottage behind and were on their way to London, following the route that the
Margaret
would have taken. The narrowboat had a good twenty-four hours’ start, but Effie knew that the Salters would have tied up for the night somewhere along the route and she hoped to catch up with them before they reached Limehouse Basin. She rode the mare while Tom walked at her side. He had not spoken too much for the first mile or so,
insisting that she told her story first, but now as they passed the London Water Works reservoir, Effie had brought him up to date and it was her turn to question him.

‘So where have you been all this time?’ she demanded. ‘Where did you go after Salter threw you off the boat? How did you live without any money? Oh, Tom, I’ve been out of my mind with worry about you.’

He gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Same old Effie, always worrying about other people.’

‘You’re my brother and I love you, of course I was worried about you.’

‘I’m a man now, Effie. I was fine at first. I went looking for Toby but they hadn’t seen him at the tavern, so I just kept on going. I slept rough and did a few odd jobs to earn money for food, or else I was paid in kind with a meal or a night’s shelter in a barn. I went in search of the gypsy camp, but it was then I started to feel bad. I don’t remember much else until I woke up in a caravan with some old woman looking down at me. I thought she was a witch.’

‘Poor Tom. You must have been terrified.’

‘I was ready to run I can tell you, but then the old girl give me a toothless grin and told me she was Toby’s granny. He’d found me wandering about the countryside and taken me to the camp.’

‘Thank God for that,’ Effie said wholeheartedly. ‘You might have died if he hadn’t come across you. But where is he now and why did he leave you with the lock keeper?’

‘We was on our way to the old house on the marsh where he’d left you and Georgie. We’d stopped at a pub for a bite to eat and Toby got into conversation with this cove he knew who gave him a tip-off about some horses that were coming up for sale at a fair on Hampstead Heath. Toby said it was a chance he couldn’t afford to miss and he paid old Hoskins to take care of me while he was away. He said he’d come back soon and then he’d take me to you.’

‘But he didn’t return.’

Tom shook his head. ‘No, but he must have had a good reason. Toby’s a good ’un. He wouldn’t let me down.’

‘I trusted him to find you and bring you back to me, but he left you here and went off without giving me a second thought. I’ll have a few words to say to Toby Tapper when I meet up with him again.’

Tom slanted a sideways look in her direction. ‘Sounds as if you like him a bit yourself.’

‘He’s as unreliable as the weather,’ Effie said, holding up her hand as drops of rain fell from the gathering clouds. ‘Nellie was right. He’s a charmer but he’s fickle and he’ll never change.’

‘What now? How are we going to get Georgie back? You and me are no match for Salter and his slut wife.’

Effie shivered as the heavy shower soaked through her clothes and trickled down her neck. ‘I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. I’m not leaving my baby with that dreadful woman for a minute longer than necessary. I’ll get him back even if I have to sink the boat to do it.’

‘Perhaps we’ll meet up with Toby at the tavern,’ Tom said hopefully. ‘He’ll know what to do.’

‘Forget Toby. He’s helped us all he can and now he’s looking after himself. We’re on our own, Tom.’ She knew by his hurt expression that he did not believe her. He quite obviously hero-worshipped Toby, but she was certain now that his loyalty was misplaced. She had made the same mistake, and had relied too much on a man whose reputation was sadly tarnished. She had put her trust in Toby but he had abandoned them all while he went in search of a good deal.

‘He’ll come back. I know he will,’ Tom said stubbornly.

‘At least we’re together again and that’s the way it’s going to stay. We’ll rescue Georgie and then we’ll go back to the fair. I’m sure
they’ll let us have use of the caravan and we can both work on the stalls.’

Tom wiped his wet hair back from his face, leaving a clean patch on his grimy skin. ‘You can help the blacksmith when he’s pulling teeth and I’ll get a job as barker for the merry-go-round.’

‘That’s Frank’s job,’ Effie said, smiling.

Tom let out a whoop of laughter. ‘You’re sweet on Frank. I thought you was by the way you looked when you told me about him. So that’s why you want to join the fair.’

‘No, of course not. Frank is spoken for and I’ve got over that piece of silliness.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. We don’t want no more broken hearts. I’m the man of the family now and I’m going to look after you and Georgie.’

‘Yes, Tom,’ Effie said, hiding a smile. ‘Would you like to hop up behind me? I’m sure the mare could carry both of us and we could move a bit faster.’

Tom needed no second bidding. He vaulted onto the horse’s back and wrapped his arms around his sister’s waist. ‘She belongs to Toby and she’s worth a lot of money. He’ll be back if only to collect the mare. You’ll see.’

They rode on, stopping at midday on a piece of waste ground between the soap works and lime kilns close to Five Bells Bridge. The rain had ceased and the sun forced its way through
a bank of clouds. Steam rose from their clothes as they sat on the damp grass and ate the bread and cheese provided by Mrs Hoskins. The mare munched placidly on clumps of grass and after a brief rest they continued on their journey. It was early evening when they reached the Prince of Wales tavern, and Effie uttered a strangled cry of relief as she caught sight of the
Margaret
moored alongside with several other barges.

Toby fisted his hands. ‘I’m going on board. I’ll sort old Salter out.’

‘You’ll do no such thing. Help me down, and we’ll tether the mare here with Champion and the other horses. We don’t want Salter to see us.’

‘He’s probably in the pub anyway.’

His glum face brought a smile to Effie’s lips. ‘You’ll get your chance to better him one day, Tom. But getting Georgie back is the most important thing now. I want you to take a look inside the pub and tell me if they are in the bar.’

‘What if they spot me?’

‘I hardly recognised you, Tom. You look like a street urchin.’

‘You look a bit of a mess yourself,’ Tom said, grinning. ‘Stay here and wait until I come back.’

EFFIE WATCHED HER
brother saunter off with his hands in his pockets, and in spite of everything, his cocky attitude made her smile. He seemed none the worse for his adventures. He had survived the twin ordeals of being abandoned and combating the dreaded disease that claimed so many young lives, and now he was prepared to take on Salter. She felt a rush of pride and admiration for his indomitable spirit, but her nerves were raw as she waited for him to reappear. She was within yards of her child and her instinct was to rush on board and demand his return, but she knew this could be a fatal mistake if the Salters were on board and not, as she hoped, drinking themselves into insensibility in the pub.

She paced up and down as she waited for Tom to return. Each time the pub door opened she paused, stepping into the shadow of the trees and hardly daring to breathe in case it was Salter or Sal who emerged on a waft of tobacco smoke and the smell of stale beer.
After what seemed like an eternity, Tom burst through the door and sprinted over to her.

‘They’re in the snug bar, both of them, but there’s no sign of the old man. I went into all the public rooms and he wasn’t there.’

‘That means he’s on his own. If we take him by surprise we can rescue my baby.’

Tom laid a hand on her arm as she was about to head for the barge. ‘Wait, Effie. Stop and think. We’d do better to take the
Margaret
even if we have to put up with the old man.’

Effie stared at him blankly. All she could think of was being reunited with her beloved Georgie. ‘Why would we want to rescue Mr Grey? He made our lives a misery and he stole my son.’

‘Think about it, Effie. They want to be rid of the old devil and keep the boat. It’s worth a small fortune and it belongs to you and Georgie. It’s his birthright and they want to take it away from him. Are you going to let them do that?’

‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘You’re right, Tom. The
Margaret
should belong to Georgie. That’s what Owen would have wanted.’

‘Wait here while I fetch Champion and the mare. You can’t do nothing with one arm in a sling, let alone fend off the old man if he decides to put up a fight. We’ll be off before the Salters can down another pint or swig
another tot of gin.’ He ran towards the horses without waiting for a reply.

Effie knew that what he suggested was only commonsense, but it was a shock to find her little brother grown suddenly into a man and taking command of the situation. She waited for Tom to return and they made their way stealthily on board the boat. The nauseating smell of rancid fat, unwashed bodies and stale alcohol hit her forcibly as Tom opened the door. There was mess everywhere. Unwashed pots and pans littered the range and the small table where they ate their meals. Dirty clothes were flung about with careless abandon and ashes spilled out of the range, littering the floor.

Gazing anxiously around the small cabin, Effie’s heart gave a convulsive leap when she saw Georgie curled up like a small puppy on the end of the nearest bunk. His golden curls were matted and unwashed and his pale cheeks were streaked where his tears had dried and made runnels in the dirt, but he slept peacefully enough with his thumb tucked firmly in his mouth. She took an instinctive step toward him, but Tom caught her by the arm, pointing to where Jacob lay flat on his back, snoring loudly. Tom pulled her gently aside and closed the door.

‘What are you doing?’ Effie hissed. ‘I want my baby.’

‘Keep your voice down and listen to me. I’m going to lead Champion and I want you to take the tiller. The old man is dead drunk and we don’t want young Georgie waking up and raising the alarm with his bawling.’

Effie’s mind had gone blank. Her arms ached to hold her baby and every instinct in her body told her to go to him. Tom nudged her in the ribs. ‘Are you all right, Effie? Can you do this? We’ve got to get away before the Salters realise what’s happening.’

She nodded mutely and, forcing her feet to move, she went swiftly to the stern of the vessel. She glanced nervously at the pub as she waited for the barge to glide over the water. Each time the door opened she held her breath, praying that it was not the Salters and sighing with relief when it was someone else. She could hear music and laughter and the babble of raised voices. She peered through the gathering twilight, straining her eyes for a signal from Tom. He seemed to be having difficulty with the mare as she whinnied with fright and skittered about nervously as the barge began to move forward. Champion’s hooves clattered on the gravel path and the mare’s frantic noise was attracting attention from the men who strolled out of the open pub door. The boat was not moving fast enough for Effie, and then there was a loud
crump as the bows tipped the stern of the narrowboat moored in front of them. The boat juddered as if with shock and the sound echoed through the empty hold.