A Mother's Promise (9 page)

‘Granny, it’s me, Hetty.’

Very slowly, Granny Huggins opened the door. Her eyes were hard as chips of granite as she looked Hetty up and down. ‘Hetty who?’

Hetty’s temper flared, but somehow she managed to keep her voice down. ‘I know we haven’t seen each other for six years, Granny. Surely you remember me and Jane? Sammy was little more than a baby when our Pa died, and Eddie wasn’t yet born, but we are your grandchildren, and we – we . . .’ Hetty could
not continue in the face of such open hostility. She bit her lip, fighting back tears of exhaustion and disappointment.

Jane pushed Hetty aside. ‘You know very well who we are, Granny Huggins. Are you going to keep us standing on the pavement all day? Because if you do, then I’ll just have to piddle right here and now.’

‘I see you are as common and vulgar as that woman my son was foolish enough to marry, and, by the looks of you, you’re no better than you should be. Get off my doorstep, the lot of you. I said my piece twenty years ago to your father, and I haven’t changed my opinion. Now go before I call a copper and have you arrested for begging.’

Hetty raised her chin and looked her grandmother in the eye. ‘There’s no call for that sort of talk. We know where we’re not wanted, and I’m only sorry that my little brothers had to hear you speak to us so. As for Jane, well, I’ll have you know, Granny Huggins, that she’s a respectable widow.’

Sammy, who had been silently taking all this in, suddenly erupted into an angry frenzy and he head-butted his grandmother, so that her knees buckled and she staggered backwards into the narrow passage. ‘I hates you, you old witch. Hetty said you was our granny, but you’re just a mean, wicked old woman.’

‘Sammy, don’t.’ Hetty grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away before he could lash out again. ‘That ain’t the proper way to behave and you know it.’ She held on to him, even though he was wriggling like an eel, and she cast a warning look at Eddie. ‘And don’t you join in neither, young man.’

Granny Huggins clutched the door jamb for support, and, for a moment, Hetty thought she was going to scream for a policeman, but then something strange happened. Granny’s lined face cracked into a grin. ‘So you’re Sammy, are you?’

Hetty prodded him in the back. ‘What d’you say, Sammy?’

He scowled. ‘Yes’m.’

‘You know something, Samuel Huggins? You’re the spitting image of your father when he was a boy.’ Granny stood back, holding the door wide open. ‘I suppose you’d better come in. But don’t think I’m an easy touch, because I ain’t.’ She jerked her head in Jane’s direction. ‘The privy is outside in the back yard, and wash your hands after you’ve been. I don’t want that trollop’s dirty habits coming into my house.’ She pressed herself against the door as Jane rushed past her. ‘And you, boys! Behave yourselves in my house, or you’ll get a clip round the ear from me. Understand?’

‘Yes’m,’ Sammy and Eddie murmured in unison as they filed past her.

Granny Huggins stood with her arms akimbo, glaring at Hetty. ‘You can come into my parlour and tell me what the devil you mean by bringing your tribe here and disturbing my peace. I want no soft-soaping, just the plain truth. I can’t stand liars or toadies, so you’d best come straight out with it and no nonsense. And don’t think you’re staying here, because you ain’t.’ She led the way down the dark passage to the room at the back of the house.

Hetty stood in the doorway, staring in amazement at the bright array of silk, feathers and ribbons that were littered over the table in the centre of the room. Despite the heat of the day, a fire burned in the range and a kettle hummed and bubbled on the hob. The mantelshelf was draped in faded green velvet and in the centre of it stood a large, black marble clock. On either side were two pot dogs, a spill jar decorated with cabbage roses and a framed daguerreotype of a bewhiskered gentleman whom Hetty recognised as Grandpa Huggins. He had died when she was just seven, but she remembered his kindness to her, his deep booming laugh, the way his whiskers had tickled when he kissed her and the smell of peppermint on his breath. He had
always carried a poke of peppermint creams in his waistcoat pocket, and she could, if she closed her eyes, still taste the soft sweet confection.

‘Well, then, sit down,’ Granny said, picking up the poker and jabbing it at the embers of the fire. ‘I suppose you want a cup of tea?’

Hetty went to take a seat at the table and immediately leapt up, realising that she had almost sat on a half-finished bonnet. She picked it up and put it on the table. ‘Are you a milliner, ma’am.’

‘No, I’m a chorus girl at the People’s Palace! What do you think all this is? Ain’t it obvious?’ Granny Huggins took a knitted pot holder from a hook and picked up the kettle. She poured a little water into a brown china teapot and swirled it round, glaring at Hetty. ‘How do you think I’ve supported meself all these years since your grandpa died? I certainly didn’t have any help from my son. He was too busy with his own family to care what happened to me.’

‘That’s not fair. You disowned my pa when he married our mum, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak a word of comfort to her at his funeral. You’re a hard-hearted woman, Granny Huggins. I’m sorry we bothered you. I’ll get the young ones and Jane and we’ll leave right now.’

Granny tipped the contents of the teapot into a slop basin. ‘Oh, sit down, and stop being so dramatic. You get that from her. My Samuel was always a down-to-earth, quiet sort of boy, just the sort to be led astray by a pair of big blue eyes.’ She spooned tea leaves into the pot and added the boiling water. ‘There, now. While that’s brewing, you can tell me why you’ve come here today, and what it is you want from me.’

Reluctantly, Hetty sat down and told her as briefly as possible what had brought them to such straits. Granny Huggins listened with her head on one side, staring at Hetty with shrewd, dark brown eyes that gleamed like black boot buttons.

‘So you see,’ Hetty concluded, ‘we need somewhere to stay, just temporary, mind you, until I can get together enough rent money for lodgings elsewhere.’

‘I suppose you owe money to all and sundry. Let me tell you, young woman, I won’t have debt collectors banging on my door,’ Granny said, folding her arms across her flat chest. ‘I’m a respectable widow, and my business depends on my good name. Also, I got my paying guest to consider. Mr Shipworthy is a clerk at the Bethnal Green branch of Tipton’s Bank, just like my Harold was, God rest his soul. Mr Shipworthy has a
very good position, and he pays his rent and minds his own business.’

Hetty bit back a sharp retort. ‘We would do our best to keep out of his way, ma’am.’

‘And I wouldn’t want them young hooligans aggravating him with their wild ways and noise. Boys are dirty, noisy creatures, all except my Samuel, of course. He was a little angel.’

Hetty put her cup down on its saucer. ‘I promise that they won’t misbehave, and we don’t need much room. Why, this is a palace compared to the place we’ve just left.’

For a moment, she thought that Granny Huggins was going to smile, but she merely nodded her head, as if to agree that her home was vastly superior. ‘All right. Seeing as how you are my blood relations, I can’t very well turn you out on the street. But it’s only temporary, mind you. A few days at the most. You can have the spare bedroom upstairs. Mr Shipworthy has the downstairs front room, and none of you must ever intrude on his privacy. I want that fully understood.’

‘Yes, ma’am. I promise to keep the boys in order.’

‘You’d better, or you’ll be out on your ear.’

Someone knocked on the door and it opened just far enough for Jane to peep into the room. ‘Can I come in?’

‘You can, but you may not,’ Granny said severely. ‘That’s another thing. You both speak like costermongers’ girls, and the boys are dirty little street urchins. If you’re going to stay here, I want you to speak properly, wash regularly, and one hint of fleas, bedbugs or head lice, and you’ll have to go on your way.’ Granny stood up, smoothing down her starched white apron. ‘You, girl – Jane. Take your brothers out into the washhouse and give them a good scrub down. They are not coming into my house until I’m certain that they are not infested. That goes for both of you too. You can heat some water in the copper, wash your hair with carbolic soap and then throw all your clothes in to boil. I keep a clean house. Cleanliness is next to godliness, as you will soon discover.’

They found out that this was no idle threat. Granny stood outside the washhouse, issuing instructions while the boys were stripped of their clothes, scrubbed until their pale skins were lobster-pink, and had their hair washed with strong-smelling carbolic soap and rinsed with vinegar. Then, wrapped in bed sheets, they were sent into the yard to dry off in the sun.

‘You girls next,’ Granny said, poking the boys’ clothes with a copper stick as if expecting vermin to leap out at her. ‘Everything has to
go in the copper and be boiled. If you don’t do your hair properly, I’ll shave your heads. That goes for you girls as well as the boys.’ She stamped off into the house.

Jane stood in her shift with her arms wrapped protectively around her bulging belly. ‘I never been so insulted in all me life.’

Hetty stepped out of her clothes and began to wash her slender body, shivering as the rapidly cooling water trickled down her legs. ‘Just do it, Jane. Be grateful that the old besom has taken us in. I’ll find us somewhere better, but first I’ve got to get work and earn some money. I’m afraid we’ll just have to put up with things, for the time being at any rate.’

When they had finished their ablutions, Granny Huggins made them all line up in the yard, still wrapped in bed sheets, while she examined their hair for lice. When she was satisfied that there were none, she went back into the house to fetch a bundle of clothes. She flung a couple of yellowed cotton shirts at Sammy and Eddie. ‘These belonged to your grandpa, so you take care of them. They’ll cover you up until your rags are washed and dried.’ She turned to Hetty and Jane, who stood with their hair dripping wet and the sheets tucked up to their chins. ‘These dresses might be old, but they’re clean, and are a sight better than what you were wearing. I want
them back, mind! Washed, ironed and in the same state as they are now. And don’t think you’re going to have it easy while you’re staying here. Each one of you will have to earn your keep.’

That night they slept in Granny Huggins’s back bedroom. Hetty and Jane had to share the iron bedstead, which had a mattress that was as bumpy as a rutted cart track. The boys slept on their palliasses, which had been hung over the washing line in the yard and beaten until they began to burst at the seams. Jane had fallen into a sleep of complete exhaustion almost as soon as her head touched the pillow, but Hetty lay awake staring at the ceiling and wondering if she had done the right thing by bringing them all here. It seemed unnaturally quiet without the familiar sounds of the Brinkmans moving about overhead. The sheets smelt of mothballs and the whole house reeked of carbolic soap, but that was infinitely preferable to the stench of sewage which had often seeped up through the flagstones in Autumn Road. Hetty turned on her side and curled up small, so as to give Jane more room. Tomorrow she must find work. Tomorrow – Hetty closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Next morning at breakfast, Eddie had his head bent over his food, but Sammy had
already finished his, and was peering myopically at Granny who was helping herself to a bowl of porridge. Jane was too busy eating to notice and Hetty was about to say something when Granny turned her head to glare at Sammy. ‘Lord above, what’s the matter with the boy? Why is he squinting at me like that?’

Hetty laid her hand on Sammy’s shoulder. ‘His eyes are weak from working twelve hours a day making matchboxes. I think he might need spectacles.’

‘Hmm!’ Granny slopped a ladleful of the thick gooey mixture into a bowl. ‘That’s what comes of having a matchgirl for a mother.’

Hetty leapt to her feet. ‘Is that all you can say, Granny? You can’t blame everything on our poor mother. She was a saint if you ask me, and she worked her fingers to the bone to keep us after Pa died. I’d have bought Sammy some specs if I’d had the money, but it was all I could do to feed and clothe us.’

Granny’s dark eyes narrowed to slits and she pursed her lips. ‘I’m sick of hearing about her. But if the boy needs spectacles, then that’s what he shall have. I know where I can get them cheap in the market. Sammy, stand up when I address you, boy.’

He jumped to his feet, eyeing her nervously. ‘Yes’m.’

‘After breakfast you will come with me to the pawnshop in Grove Road, where we will find some spectacles that will help you to see properly. I won’t allow Samuel’s son to go blind for want of a few pennies.’

Sammy began to cry, but before Hetty could leap to his aid, Granny had grabbed him by the shoulder and given him a shake. ‘None of that snivelling, boy. Pass me your bowl and you shall have some more porridge. Then we will go out.’

‘Me too.’ Eddie jumped up, holding out his empty bowl. ‘Can – I mean, may I have some more, please, Granny Huggins?’

‘Why, I believe you actually listened to something I said, you little ragamuffin. Yes, since you ask so politely, you may have some more. I might make gentlemen of you yet, given time.’

Granny filled the boys’ bowls and then she filled a third, placing it on a small wooden tray next to a cup of tea and a small jug of milk. ‘Hetty, you may take this in to Mr Shipworthy. Knock on the door and wait for him to invite you in. I don’t want you embarrassing the poor man by catching him in his smalls.’

Eddie and Sammy sniggered, but were subdued by a frown from Granny. Hetty rose from the table to take the tray. ‘Yes, Granny.’

‘And you might ask him if there are any
suitable positions going at the bank. I suppose you can read and write, Hetty?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Our mother taught us all our letters.’

‘At least the woman did something right.’ Granny took her food to the table and sat down in Hetty’s vacated chair. ‘Well, go on. What are you waiting for?’

Hetty picked up the tray and hurried from the room. Once again, she managed to hold her tongue, but it was with great difficulty. She went along the passage to knock on the door of the front parlour.