Eliza's Child (3 page)

‘Hello, Father,' said Jack. ‘I got married.' He indicated Eliza. ‘This is Eliza.'

‘Where's my money?'

‘He's sending it to you at the end of the quarter,' said Jack. He was flushed; he looked like a small boy caught out in some naughtiness. Eliza stared at him; he seemed like a different man from the one she had married.

‘You've gambled it away! I should have known better than trust you,' said John Henry bitterly.

‘No, he did not!'

Eliza couldn't help herself; she jumped in in Jack's defence as she would have done for her little brother James, who was always into scrapes.

‘You speak when you're spoken to, lass,' snapped John Henry.

‘Sssh, Eliza,' said Jack at the same time.

Almost a year later, in the little house in Durham city, the memory of her introduction to her husband's family flashed through her thoughts as she watched her mother hold her baby with practised ease.

‘By, Mam, I'm that glad to see you,' she said, her voice breaking. ‘You and Da are worth two of that lot in Northumberland.'

‘Now then, you're a bit overwrought,' said Mary Anne, looking keenly at her daughter. ‘Howay, sit down by the fire and feed the bairn. You'll feel better come the morn.'

‘
I DON'T WANT
to wear the necklace,' said Eliza.

‘Why not?' asked Jack. ‘I like to see it on your pretty neck.' His expression was genuinely hurt and puzzled. He felt he would never understand Eliza. Surely every lass liked real jewellery? Anyway, he had to find out where the necklace was.

‘It's not really mine, is it? It's your emergency fund for the next time you lose all your money on a horse or the turn of a card or whether a black beetle will beat a cockroach in a race—'

‘Eliza! How can you say such a thing? I've told you, it's yours and I'll not take it away from you again, I won't!'

Eliza lifted Thomas out of the tin bath and sat him on the towel on her lap. Thomas smiled at her with eyes wide and innocent-looking as his father's. She wrapped the towel round him and rubbed him dry then dusted him with boracic powder before taking his flannel vest from the brass line under the mantel shelf and putting it on him. Thomas wriggled but was still smiling when his face emerged from the neck of the vest. He was a sunny-natured bairn, she thought. She looked up at Jack, who was lounging against the edge of the table, waiting for her to reply.

By, she thought, Jack was a bonny lad, he was, especially when he raised one eyebrow at her when he saw he had her attention again.

‘I have the necklace put away safe,' she said and pulled Thomas's petticoat over his head and pushed the linen buttons through the holes.

‘Where?' asked Jack.

Eliza sighed. ‘Jack, you're not being dunned for money again, are you?'

Jack flushed. ‘No, I'm not. How could you think it? I told you, I don't want to take the necklace away from you, I'm not going to do that. I just want to know where it is. I like to see you wearing it, Eliza.'

‘I have it safe,' she said stubbornly.

Jack stood up straight and stomped to the door. ‘What you mean is, you don't trust me. Well, I'm warning you, Eliza, I won't have you keeping secrets from me. I'm your husband and it's not right. I'll give you time to think about it.'

As the back door crashed behind him, the brass sneck dropping onto the bar with a metallic click, Eliza stared out of the window as he strode down the yard and round the corner into the street. Thomas struggled as she held him against her and murmured in protest, and she looked down at him.

‘There, there, pet,' she said. ‘We'll go to the shop in a minute and buy something nice for dinner. Then we'll walk along by the mill race, you like it there.'

She sat the baby in the fancy carriage Jack had brought home after a day at the races. It was the only baby carriage in the street, for though this part of Durham was a little better than some of the mean little terraces which clustered at the foot of Castle Chare, the folk living here being artisans rather than labourers and pitmen, it was only the really better off who could afford such a thing as a baby carriage.

‘Nothing but the best for my lad,' Jack had said when Eliza questioned the wisdom of buying it. So it stood in the tiny hall and they had to squeeze past it to get in and out, which was the reason they used the back door rather than the front.

Thomas crowed and waved to everyone who went by as they made their progress down the street towards the steep path leading to the river. The sun sparkled on the water as she pushed the baby carriage along the towpath. There was a cool wind blowing on the top of the hill but here, sheltered by the high banks of the Wear, it was warm and almost springlike. In spite of her niggling doubts and worries Eliza felt her spirits rise.

Perhaps Jack was not in debt to anyone, perhaps he had made a new start and she just didn't trust him enough, just as he said. He had opened a workshop-cum-shop in Saddler Street and she knew he was a good carpenter just like his father. Why, they had only been in Durham for six months and already he had satisfied customers who came back for repeat orders. His reputation was beginning to grow. She should have more confidence in him. Since Thomas had been born he spent less time at the races and he worked hard at the joinery, she knew he did.

Only, whenever he asked her about the necklace her heart sank. She had it hidden away in a bag of sugar in the back of the kitchen press. He would never look there, she was sure he would not. The necklace was her insurance.

Eliza stood by the mill race so Thomas could watch the water rushing over into the pool below and spreading out in ripples to the wider river. Thomas crowed and clapped his hands, an accomplishment he'd only recently acquired. She smiled at him and he smiled sunnily back and tried to bounce up and down on the pillow, succeeding only in falling back against it. Eliza turned him on his side and pulled the coverlet over his shoulders.

‘Time for your nap, my little pet,' she said and began to push the baby carriage up the steep path to the shops. She would call in to see Jack at the workshop, she thought. She hated there to be bad feeling between them. Pausing at the top of the hill, she allowed the wind to play on her face while she got her breath back. She felt slightly sick and leaned against the ancient wall surrounding the cathedral grounds until the feeling receded. Thomas was asleep, she saw, his thumb firmly in his mouth. Eliza smiled fondly and walked on, the baby carriage jiggling on the cobblestones.

The shop was closed, ornate cast-iron shutters over the windows and door.

Where was Jack? Eliza stared at the shutters as though she had made a mistake and they were open.

‘Howay, move out of the road, Missus,' an impatient male voice said. ‘That thing you've got there is blocking the way.'

‘Sorry.' Hastily, Eliza moved to the alley at the side of the shop and set off down it. Of course, Jack must be in the workroom, he just hadn't opened the shop yet. But the door to the workshop was closed and locked. Maybe he'd gone out to a customer? With some difficulty, for the alley was narrow, she reversed the carriage and went back to the street. She couldn't understand it; Jack would have told her if he was going off somewhere, wouldn't he?

A man was hammering a notice to the front door of the shop. He had to reach through the bars of the shutters to do it.

‘What are you doing?' Eliza demanded. ‘That's my husband's shop, you have no right!'

He hammered in the last nail before answering. When he did turn to her he looked her up and down, unsmiling. ‘Your man's, is it, Missus? Well, mebbe you can tell me where I can get hold of him?' It was the man who had asked her to move out of the way; a big, broad-shouldered man with a ruddy face and small blue eyes.

‘Why do you want to know? It's none of your business.'

‘Aye but you're wrong there, Missus. It's my business all right. An' I mean that, I have the deeds here in my pocket.'

Eliza reeled with the shock. ‘The deeds! You can't have the deeds, you're a liar!'

The man patted his pocket. ‘Oh but I have. An' if you were a man I'd knock you down for that.' He stopped and glanced down at her white face. She looked stricken. His tone softened. ‘Listen, I'm a reasonable man. You tell that man of yours to bring me the keys by four o'clock the day and we'll say no more about it. But it's no good him thinking he can run off with the keys and get away wi' it. You just tell him that.' Putting the hammer in his pocket, he strode off towards the market place.

Eliza stared after his broad back until he disappeared round the bend in the road. It was a nightmare, she told herself, it couldn't be true. Jack had given no sign that morning, he had not. She turned to the notice on the shop door. But she couldn't read it, of course. She looked about her for someone who might be able to read it to her.

‘Did you not go to school?' asked the man in a clerical collar and the black garb of a clergyman who happened to be walking past on his way to the cathedral, she presumed.

‘No, sir,' Eliza muttered. She burned with the shame of it.

‘It is not too late, you know,' he said kindly. ‘We are holding adult classes in the Town Hall. It will cost you two pounds only for the whole course—'

‘Please, sir, just read it to me,' cried Eliza, and Thomas woke and began to whimper. The clergyman hastily read the notice, then, lifting his hat, hurried away.

FOR SALE

JOINER'S WORKSHOP AND RETAIL PREMISES

An opportunity to take over a thriving business.

APPLY:

JOSEPH MENZIES AND SON

19 SILVER STREET

DURHAM CITY

Eliza stood gazing after him for a moment then stared at the notice again, trying to decipher it for herself. But it was just a mass of symbols to her. She began to walk away.

‘Is something wrong, Missus?' a concerned voice asked, but she shook her head blindly and stumbled on, for once oblivious to Thomas's cries. Down Silver Street and over the bridge, up the hill a short way then right to the street where she lived. The door was locked; she rarely locked it after her so Jack must be in. She banged on the knocker and called, ‘Jack!' There was no answer. But she did have a key, she remembered, and fumbled in her reticule for it. Once inside she left the crying baby in the baby carriage in the entrance and ran through the house. Drawers were open and their contents spilled out. She ran up the stairs, still calling, ‘Jack! Jack!' But he wasn't there. Of course he wasn't, one part of her mind told her. She went down the stairs and picked up Thomas. He was soaking wet.

‘Whisht, babby, whisht,' she murmured to him. ‘I'll have you dry in a minute.' First she had to make sure Jack had not found the necklace. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen and gazed at the trail of sugar that spread from the press to the kitchen table. The bag was on its side on the floor by the table and it was empty.

Eliza was frozen into stillness until Thomas's cries and his scrabbling at the bodice of her dress made her sit down almost automatically and undo the buttons and allow him access to her nipple. The baby sucked, frantically at first then more slowly. She looked down at him and Thomas stared back with wet, reproachful eyes though he was still nursing. Milk dribbled down his chin and wet her dress but she was barely aware of it.

‘Oh, Thomas, what is going to happen to us?' she whispered. Thomas blinked and grabbed her finger and held on tightly. Both of them jumped when there was a loud knocking at the front door. Eliza waited, her heart thumping in her chest and her nervousness communicated itself to Thomas, who stopped sucking and began to wail. The knocking came again, louder this time. Eliza covered herself and went to answer it.

‘Now then, Missus, we don't want any trouble. We've come to take what owes, though. You've to be out by noon.' The burly men on the doorstep thrust past her.

‘Hey! What do you think you're doing?' Eliza shouted and Thomas howled louder. But she knew what they were doing, oh yes, she knew. They were candymen, bum bailiffs.

‘Howay, Missus. We're only doing our job, like,' said the one who had spoken before. The other one was clearing the hall table, emptying drawers onto the floor then pulling it away from the wall. ‘I have the papers here if you want to see.'

‘I'll take this out, will I?' the second candyman asked his mate. ‘It's in the road here.' He had hold of the baby carriage.

‘You can't take that, it's the babby's,' cried Eliza.

‘Aye, but he can,' said the one who was evidently the boss. He nodded to his mate. ‘Gan on then.' He turned to Eliza. ‘Look, Missus, if I was you I'd be getting you and the bairn's clothes together. You can take them and something to put them in, a bundle or something.'

Eliza stared at him. The man hadn't a cruel face; in fact if she saw him in the street she would have thought him an ordinary, kindly sort of man, most likely with a family of his own. ‘Please, I need it to get the bairn and my things to my da's house,' she said, her voice trembling.

He pursed his lips and for a moment she thought he was going to let her take the baby carriage but in the end he shook his head slowly.

‘Nay, lass, you can't get round me, I can't afford to lose this job. Just take your things and go. I'm doing you a favour letting you do that. I could send you off now wi' nowt. Away wi' you now. Your man hasn't paid any rent for weeks.'

Half an hour later Eliza was walking up the street towards the railway station. She had the baby, tucked into her shawl and slung against her breast, supported with one hand and in the other hand she carried the bundle. Thomas was sleeping after his feed so at least that made it easier for her.

‘Is something the matter, hinny? Can I give you a hand?' a woman, standing at her open front door, asked. She stood with her arms folded over her skinny chest and in spite of her offer didn't move to help at all. She was avid with curiosity. Eliza noticed for the first time that there were a few women standing about and watching her. They must know exactly what the matter was. They would know the candyman's cart with his name painted on the side.

‘No, thank you,' she said as haughtily as she could. ‘I'll manage fine. I'm just going to see my parents for a few days.'

She didn't look back and see the women smiling knowingly at each other. She straightened her back and strode on towards the railway station at the top of the hill. When she got there she bought a second-class ticket for Shotton. It wasn't a good idea to ride in the third-class open carriage with Thomas; he might catch his death. But it made a frightening hole in the few shillings she had left in her purse.

At least Eliza had a seat in the compartment. A wooden seat, for it was second class not first, but still a seat, so she alighted at Shotton station fairly rested. Outside, the late afternoon was already darkening and a few drops of rain fell. She tucked the shawl more securely round Thomas and picked up her bundle. It was two or three miles to Blue House and she would like to get there before it was totally dark. The road was barely a track and stony and she couldn't afford to trip and fall, with Thomas in her arms. She set off, the wind blowing wet in her face at times so that she was thankful for the bends in the track.