In the Shadow of the Lamp (3 page)

C
hapter 4

I knew it for a dangerous folly to show my face at the Abington-Smythes. Mr. Collins said he’d summon the police if I dared. But I couldn’t see any other way. I went by the back road, down the alley that led to the mews. There was an entrance there the servants used if they came back late and wanted to sneak in without Mr. Collins knowing. It led directly into the pantry, and no one in the servants’ hall or the butler’s office could see you.

The servants’ tea would just be ending and Cook’d be getting supper ready for upstairs. I had to catch Will before he went to the master’s room to bring his sherry and help him dress. I figured that Mavis, who no doubt had stepped straight into my shoes as parlormaid, would be up tending the drawing room fire and helping to prepare the dining room.

I let myself into the dark, cool room, hung with hams and cheeses, dozens of eggs in trays on the shelves, and preserves in jars all labeled. The sight made me realize I was ever so hungry, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I heard Cook in the kitchen ordering someone around—not Mavis, I hoped!—and waited for the sound of Will’s steps coming toward the back stairs that led up to the bedrooms.

I timed it just right. The smart
click-clack
of his polished shoes came nearer. An instant before he got there, I opened the door.

At first he looked startled, then pleased, then a cloud passed over his eyes. “What are you doing here?” he whispered, pushing me back into the pantry and closing the door behind us.

“You said if I needed anything …”

“Yes, but they’ll hand you over to the police if they find you,” he said. He took my shoulders and turned me toward him. “What is it, Molly? What can I do for you?”

“Do you really believe I’m innocent, or were you just saying it to be nice?” I asked. I needed to know if he really trusted me.

“Of course I believe you! You’re just not the type. I can see it in your eyes.” He smiled. I liked when he smiled at me. His whole face looked happy and it made me want to smile too.

“Then I have to ask you something,” I said. I had to trust him; I had no choice. He could have just ignored me, told me he had to get on with his duties, but that wasn’t Will. He had a heart big enough for the likes of me. “I need a place to stay, Will,” I said, deciding I wouldn’t put everything on him all at once, but take it in steps.

“What about home? Your mum and dad and brothers and sisters?”

He said it so sincerely. His eyes were a clear, honest blue that always gave me a little start in my stomach when I looked into them direct. So it pained me to know I’d have to lie a little at first. “I—I just can’t face them.”

He let his breath out in a sharp sigh. “I know it’s been a blow to you.” He thought for a moment, then said, “My sister lives in Marylebone with her husband.” He took a piece of paper and a pencil out of his pocket and scribbled a note. “Here. Give this to her. She’ll put you up for a couple of nights. She’s a good soul.”

“I’ll help her clean and such,” I said after he told me her address. “I can’t thank you enough, Will.” I meant it, so I looked right at him.

This time he turned his eyes away. “You’ll have to take an omnibus to get there. It’s a long way.”

I nodded, knowing I’d walk. “Thanks, Will.”

“Go to the pantry and get me half a dozen eggs!” Cook’s voice broke through our hushed conversation, and I heard footsteps coming toward us.

“Go now!” Will said, and before I knew it he’d pulled me to him and kissed me quickly on the forehead.

I ran back out the way I came, my feet so light I couldn’t feel the ground. I didn’t know for sure whether it was because Will had found me a place to stay or because of the warm spot on my forehead where he had kissed me, but it reached right down inside me so I didn’t feel the chill all the way to Marylebone.

It was after seven by the time I knocked on the door of the small house in the north of London where Will’s sister lived. In no time a woman who looked like Will but with gray eyes opened the door. A little tyke clung to her leg, and I could see she was far along in the family way with another. Her forehead creased in a frown.

“Who is it, Luce?” came a man’s voice in a room behind her.

“Dunno!” she called back.

“I’m Molly,” I said, and handed her the note from Will. I could smell the remains of their tea—mutton stew, I thought—and when my stomach growled I was certain she could hear it. She read the note quickly, looking not very pleased.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Only I didn’t have nowheres else to go. I can clean and help with your boy, and I won’t stay long.”

Her face relaxed into a smile just like Will’s. “Come in. If Will says it’s important, I’m sure it is. I’m Lucy, this is Arthur.” She patted her boy on his curly head. As we passed through into the small parlor she said, “And this is my husband, Jim.”

I curtsied to him. “Pleased to meet you.”

“See how thoughtful Will is!” Lucy said to her husband in a tone that reminded me of how Mum talked to Dad when he came home from the pub and she wanted him to go to bed without beating any of us. Jim was seated in the only soft chair. Two other chairs were wood, and there was a bench and a table too. The fire crackled along, and my fingers began to thaw out. “He’s sent a girl to help me while I’m so big, to get the house cleaned up and all for the baby.”

“We can’t afford no serving wench.” Jim stared at me, disapproving.

“Oh, you don’t need to pay me wages,” I said. “I’ll work just for a bed and a bit of food.”

Jim turned away and shrugged, tapping his unlit pipe in his hand. There was no smell of tobacco in the room, which made me think it was a while since he could afford any.

“Come along into the kitchen, then I’ll get you settled.” Lucy led me to a room off the parlor, the only other one on ground level. A narrow stairway led to the upper floor. “Have you eaten any tea?” she asked. I could have kissed her.

“Not a bite since breakfast, ma’am,” I said.

“Call me Lucy. Here’s some stew left over, and a potato.” She dished me out a generous dollop. I wanted to say I wouldn’t take that much, but I was so hungry I could’ve eaten the wooden spoon. “Soon’s you’re done I’ll take you upstairs. You’ll share a room with Arthur—hardly more than a closet, I’m afraid. Tomorrow you can tell me what this is all about.”

I wondered if kindness is something that runs in families. So many of the people I’d met up with were cold and hard, only concerned about their own selves. Like Mavis. And Mr. Collins. Today Will risked his position to help me, and his sister, who I could see couldn’t afford another mouth to feed, took me in, no questions. My eyes overflowed with tears before I could stop them.

“There now, Molly. You’re safe here.”

I knew I was. For a bit, anyway. In a few days, I’d leave that safe hiding place and take a crazy chance for something that would change my life forever.

C
hapter 5

On the fourth night of my stay with Lucy and her family, she came in and woke me up after midnight.

“I’m sorry, Molly, but I think the baby’s coming.” She doubled over right then. I took the lamp out of her hand so she wouldn’t drop it.

“Where’s Jim?” I asked.

“He’s taken little Arthur to his mum’s. They’ll both stay there tonight. This is no time for men.”

I took her hand and led her back into her bedroom. In spite of the fact I’d helped the midwife when my little sister Ann was born, I couldn’t recall exactly how it was done.

“I know what to do. I’ll tell you,” Lucy said, reading the doubt in my face.

“Have you sent for the midwife?” I hoped I’d soon have a helping hand.

“Can’t afford one.” Lucy’s breath was squeezed. Another sharp pain welled up and sweat broke out on her forehead in beads that looked like crystals in the light of the oil lamp. As soon as the cramp passed I helped her onto her bed. With the next pain, I let her squeeze my hand. It was all I could think to do. She didn’t make a sound, only breathed real fast.

Once the pain slacked off again, she said, “Fetch a basin of water and a clean towel. And you’ll need a knife and a length of string. Get the sharpest one from the kitchen. You’ll find the twine by the stove.”

I did as she told me. Everything was right where she said it would be. I took a deep breath and climbed the narrow stairs with all the tools of birthing.

After that there was only Lucy, me, and the pain for five long hours. In between pains she tried to talk to me. I told her she didn’t have to, but I guess it helped take her mind off things.

“How is the reading going?” she asked. With all her other kindnesses, Lucy had taken time to help me learn how to put the letters I knew together into words, but I still struggled.

“All right. But I don’t think I’ll be ready in time.”

“Ready for what?”

I forgot I’d not told her my plan. Since I’d been there I helped her clean and cook and take care of Arthur. And in whatever spare time there was she taught me, patient and slow. I didn’t even have time to explain it all to Will when he came yesterday on his half day. The worst was that I needed to borrow money from him to get myself to Folkestone so I could catch up with the nurses.

“Aarrghhhh!” Lucy’s scream startled me out of my thoughts. “I don’t know what’s happening. I think it’s too soon. Molly, help me!”

She let out a sound like a cat being swung by its tail. I looked at her hard, swollen belly, wishing I could take the pain away from her. Then I remembered how Janet seemed soothed when I put my hands on her neck. “It’s all right, Lucy,” I said. Then I laid my hands on her belly, gentle and calm.

Her breathing slowed, and the sharp sounds she made settled down to a whimper, then faded away. “What did you do? How did you warm your hands so?” she whispered.

“Hush. Everything’s all right now,” I said. She closed her eyes, and I think she might’ve slept a few minutes. That was good. She needed her strength.

My arms had just started aching from holding them on Lucy’s belly when all at once I felt a hard, strong cramp grip her. Lucy pushed herself up again.

The pains came back stronger than ever. I began to be afraid for her. I kept mopping her brow and feeling where the baby was when her belly wasn’t tight as a copper kettle. I’d not done that part for my mother. The midwife took over when it was so near to time. Now it was just me to do it all.

“It’s … going … to be … soon,” Lucy panted. “It’s all right now. I’m ready. Get the water and the knife. Where’s the string?” I showed her. “Mind you tie it tight before you cut.”

She started pushing. “Best get down where you can help it out,” she said, nodding toward her feet.

I should’ve been embarrassed, I supposed, but it was what I had to do, for Lucy. It wasn’t long before I could see the baby’s head.

“The baby’s coming!” I cried. I looked up and saw a fleeting smile on Lucy’s face before she began to bear down again.

Then, after two more pushes, so sudden I could’ve dropped the poor mite, the little baby girl came slipping out of Lucy. She was squirming but not making any sound.

“Now tie!”

My fingers trembled as I tried, as fast as I could, to knot the string around the cord that still stretched into Lucy.

“Now cut! Quickly!”

I was too careful at first, but soon Lucy’s fear made me cut fast.

“Let me have my baby,” she said.

I gave her to Lucy. She held her upside down by the ankles and patted the tiny creature’s bottom. Her little mouth opened, and a pinched but lusty cry emerged. “She’s alive! She’s all right. We did it!” I jumped up, nearly upsetting the basin of water.

Lucy clutched her baby to her for a moment, then handed her to me. “I’m too tired. You bathe her.”

Careful and gentle, I sponged the infant down, then wrapped her in the receiving blanket that was ready in the bassinette next to the bed. Lucy’d fallen asleep, her face drawn but healthy looking. The baby began to cry again. Lucy’s eyes opened. She smiled and put out her arms. Soon the baby was nursing and making sweet, contented sounds.

I stood and the room swayed a little. I steadied myself, realizing that there hadn’t been any time that night where I felt I couldn’t do it. Even when Lucy was near fainting with pain I kept my head.
I could be a nurse, for good and all
, I thought. And there was that time when my hands calmed Lucy, when I laid them on her belly and they made the pain fade away. It reminded me of how I helped Janet. Only this time it turned out just the opposite.