A Mother's Wish (2 page)

It was still early morning when Bow Common Bridge came into sight and the gaudily painted Prince of Wales tavern where Effie had once been employed as a barmaid. Champion it seemed had already decided to make a stop here and he had his head down champing away on a patch of sooty grass.
Tom tethered him to a fence post, hitched a nosebag over Champion’s head and came strolling back to the boat whistling a tune, his hands in his pockets. Effie had to hide a smile at her brother’s insouciant air. Dear Tom, she thought fondly, nothing ever seemed to get him down. He often suffered the sharp edge of Jacob’s tongue but he took it all with good grace and never seemed to let the unfairness of their situation bother him. Perhaps it was the hardship they had suffered in the workhouse that had inured him to such treatment, or maybe it was simply that Tom possessed a happy nature and a good heart. Whatever star it was that ruled him, Effie was very grateful for its benign influence as without Tom her life and that of little Georgie would be all the harder to bear.

‘What d’you say to breakfast in the pub?’ Tom suggested, grinning. ‘I can smell bacon frying, hot toast and coffee.’

‘I don’t know, Tom. I don’t think Mr Grey would approve. Since he gave up the drink he thinks that pubs are dens of iniquity.’

‘Aw go on, Effie. We’ve made good time and if we arrive too early we’ll only have to wait for a berth. Mr Ellerman is always late anyway.’

Effie acknowledged this truth with a reluctant nod of her head. Mr Ellerman was the
agent for the distillers’ company and he organised the carts to transport the barrels of alcohol to Clerkenwell where they would be rectified into gin. Effie’s stomach rumbled and her mouth watered as she too caught a tantalising whiff of bacon which momentarily overpowered the noxious city smells. ‘All right, Tom. I think we’ve earned a treat. Go inside and order three breakfasts. I’ll share mine with Georgie.’

Tom held his hand out. ‘It’ll cost you, Effie.’

She put her hand in her pocket and took out a silver sixpence, the last of the money that Jacob had allocated to buy food for the week. He might not be able to work the barge but he still insisted on handling the business transactions, making it plain that he did not trust Effie with such matters.

Tom shot off in the direction of the pub and Effie made her way into the cabin, preparing for yet another battle of wills. She was not disappointed.

Jacob had raised himself on a cushion and his nightcap sat awry on his thinning white hair. ‘You can’t keep away from your old haunts, can you?’

‘That’s not fair, Father-in-law.’ Effie glanced anxiously at her sleeping child and lowered her voice. ‘All we want is some hot food and there is nowhere else between here and Limehouse Basin.’

‘You are wantonly extravagant, my girl, wasting our hard-earned money on food that you could cook yourself for half the cost.’

‘There is nothing left in the cupboard, not even a crust of bread, and we’ve been on the go since daybreak.’

‘You were raised on gruel in the workhouse, but that’s not good enough for you now, is it? You’ve got ideas above your station, and you’ll ruin us before you’re done.’

‘So you don’t want anything from the pub then?’ Effie knew that she ought not to goad the old man, but he had pushed her too far this morning.

‘You can wipe that smug look off your face, madam. I’ll take breakfast although it will probably choke me, but at least I know I’ll get a decent meal from the pub kitchen and not the slop that you serve up.’

Jacob’s harsh voice must have penetrated Georgie’s dreams, for he stirred and opened his eyes with a whimper that went straight to Effie’s heart. She snatched him up from his nest of pillows and carried him out onto the deck, threading her way around the tightly packed barrels. She wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and her tormentor. Sometimes she felt that she could not stand another minute of her father-in-law’s cruel jibes, and for two pins she would have
left the narrowboat to take her chances on land, but there was always Georgie to consider, and Tom. The threat of returning to the workhouse was enough to make her think twice before making any rash decisions.

Hampered by her long skirts and the weight of Georgie in her arms, Effie was having difficulty in getting onto the towpath when a hand reached out to help her.

‘Why, if it isn’t young Effie Sadler.’

Effie would have known that voice anywhere. She looked up into a pair of speedwell-blue eyes that twinkled with laughter and a weather-beaten face that denoted a life spent mainly outdoors. ‘Toby Tapper!’ she exclaimed. ‘Where did you spring from?’

‘From the tavern, my pet. I recognised Tom supping a pint of small beer and I couldn’t believe my eyes to see how he’d grown.’ Toby slipped his free arm around her waist and swung her off the deck, setting her gently down on the towpath. His smile broadened as Georgie reached up to touch his face. ‘And who might this fine fellow be?’

‘This is my son, Georgie.’

‘I heard that you’d married a boatman.’ Toby ruffled Georgie’s curls. ‘Your boy does you credit, Effie, but it’s hard to believe you are a wife and mother. Your presence behind the bar is sorely missed, my dear.’

‘You always were a smooth talker, Toby. I’m sure you say that to all the barmaids in every town you visit. Are you still trading horses?’

Toby took off his cap, brushing back a lock of dark, curly hair that gleamed like coal in the bright light. ‘I’m Romany. No one understands horseflesh better than we do.’

‘And do you still travel with the fair?’

He shook his head. ‘No, we parted company some time ago.’

She had always had a soft spot for Toby and seeing him again lifted her spirits, reminding her of happier days. Questions bubbled on Effie’s tongue like sweet sherbet, but Tom appeared in the pub doorway. ‘Grub up, Effie. Come and get it while it’s hot.’

Toby linked her hand through his arm. ‘Allow me, ma’am. I think I might join you at the breakfast table, if that’s all right with you and if your husband won’t object.’

The years had rolled away and she had been Effie Sadler, but she returned to earth with a bump and her smile faded. ‘I’m a widow, Toby. Owen died of consumption two years ago.’

‘I am sorry, truly I am. I had no idea, or I wouldn’t have made light of things.’

‘You weren’t to know.’

‘Effie Grey, where’s me food?’ Jacob’s voice boomed from within the cabin, reminding her
painfully that life had changed, and not for the better.

‘It’s coming, Father-in-law.’ She shot an apologetic glance at Toby. ‘He’s not the easiest person to live with.’

Toby raised an eyebrow. ‘I can see that, ducks. Best get the old codger fed then.’ He led her into the pub, settling her on a seat by the fire where Tom had already begun shovelling his food down at an alarming rate. ‘Hold fast there, young fellow.’ Toby picked up a rapidly cooling plate of bacon, eggs and buttered toast, thrusting it into Tom’s hands. ‘Take this to the old man.’ He turned to the barman. ‘A pint of porter, if you please, Ben.’

‘The old fellah don’t approve of drink,’ Tom said nervously. ‘He says it’s the devil’s brew and he’ll only throw it at me.’

Toby strode to the bar and came back with a foaming tankard. He took a red-hot poker from the fire and plunged it into the pot. The beer hissed and fizzed, and he thrust the tankard into Tom’s hand. ‘Tell the old devil that this is purely medicinal; doctor’s orders.’

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Effie said anxiously as Tom left the taproom. ‘Mr Grey has a fierce temper. He might not be able to walk but he has a long reach with his cane and a strong arm.’

‘I’ll wager that Tom is quick on his feet, and
maybe the mulled ale will sweeten the old man’s temper.’ Toby held his arms out to Georgie. ‘Come with me, young man. I know the cook here and if we ask her nicely, I’m sure she’ll give you a bowl of porridge with lots of sugar and cream. Shall we go and see?’

Effie half rose to her feet, but Toby pressed her gently down on the wooden settle. ‘Don’t worry, little mother, your boy is safe with me. I’m used to handling young colts, and, as you see, he is not afraid of his Uncle Toby.’

As if to confirm this statement, Georgie peered at the gold earring dangling from Toby’s earlobe and he poked at it with a chubby finger, seemingly content to be held in a stranger’s arms and quite happy to leave his mother and be carried off to the unknown. Effie did not know whether to be pleased by her son’s newfound independence or upset by it, and she had to resist the urge to follow them. Even as she ate the tasty food, she found herself straining her ears in case Georgie should suddenly miss her and begin to cry, but it was Tom who returned first, bursting through the pub door like a whirlwind. He flung himself down on the settle and began to eat again, grumbling through each mouthful. ‘Miserable old bugger. I’ll kill him if he keeps hitting me with that stick.’

‘Hush, Tom,’ Effie said, glancing round anxiously to see if anyone had heard him. ‘You don’t mean that.’

Tom swallowed hard. ‘Don’t I just? He’s an ungrateful old sod and I hate him.’

Effie pushed her plate away, unable to eat another mouthful. ‘I know he’s difficult, Tom, but we have to put up with him for now at least.’

‘I could get a job, Effie. There’s the chemical works across the cut, and the match factory back along the river. There’s the gasworks and the alum factory, the glue works . . .’

‘Stop it, Tom. I know you mean well but it’s not as simple as that,’ Effie said in a low voice, reaching out to cover his hand with hers. ‘We would have to find a place to live and rents are high, wages are low. We would end up back in the workhouse or worse.’

‘But he’s a pig and a bully. I can’t bear the way he treats you.’ Tom wiped his sleeve across his face.

Effie’s throat constricted at the sight of her brother’s eyes magnified by unshed tears and she squeezed his fingers. ‘I’ll think of something, Tom, but for the time being we’ve just got to put up with things as they are.’

‘Effie Sadler – or should I say Mrs Grey.’

A familiar voice from behind her made Effie turn her head and she rose to her feet, holding
out her hand to the landlord. ‘Ben. It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.’

‘Too long, my girl. I’ve seen the
Margaret
pass us by on many an occasion and yet you never called in to see us.’ Ben Hawkins wiped his hands on his apron and took Effie’s outstretched hand in a large paw, pumping it up and down enthusiastically. ‘I’ve just seen Toby in the kitchen and he told me you were out here.’

‘We just stopped for a bite to eat,’ Effie explained hastily. ‘We don’t normally have the time and my father-in-law doesn’t drink, so that’s why . . .’

Ben threw back his shaggy head and roared with laughter. ‘You don’t have to explain, ducks. Old man Grey is well known in these parts for being a bit of a miser. The other boatmen don’t have much time for him by all accounts.’ His craggy features smoothed to a look of deep concern. ‘I heard about your husband, Effie. It were a bad business, girl, and we was all sorry to hear of your loss.’

Effie swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked as the ready tears stung her eyes. ‘Thank you, Ben. I appreciate that.’

He turned to Tom, slapping him on the shoulder. ‘And you’ve grown, young fellow. I hardly recognise you now.’ He squeezed Tom’s arm playfully. ‘Look at them muscles! It’s easy to see who does all the work.’

Tom flushed a rosy red beneath his freckles. ‘That’s right. I’m the one who leads the horse and works the locks where there’s no keeper to help. I dunno what Effie would do without me.’

‘You’re a good chap, Tom,’ Ben said, taking a silver threepenny bit from his pocket and pressing it into Tom’s hand.

‘What’s that for?’ Tom shot a sideways glance at his sister. ‘I suppose you’re going to say I shouldn’t take it when I done nothing to earn it.’

‘Then earn it you shall, my lad.’ Ben ruffled Tom’s curly hair. ‘There’s a delivery due any moment. You know the drill, Tom. Go and open the cellar door and make certain they drop off all the barrels as ordered.’

‘It’s like old times,’ Tom said, leaping to his feet. ‘They won’t pull a fast one on me, guv.’ He raced out of the door, shouting a greeting to the draymen.

‘He’s a good boy,’ Ben said, grinning. ‘And you know that you’ve always got a job back here, girl. I can find work for the pair of you, if you’ve a mind to take me up on my offer.’

Effie met his grey eyes with a steady gaze. ‘Thank you, Ben. I’ll remember that.’

‘Ben, come here. I want a word with you.’ The shrill voice that Effie remembered only too well as belonging to Ben’s wife, Maggie,
made Ben turn with a guilty start. ‘Coming, my love.’ He patted Effie on the shoulder. ‘Enjoy your food, ducks, and don’t leave it so long before you call in again.’

Effie’s attempt at a smile was met with cold disdain from Maggie, who appeared in the doorway, beckoning furiously to her husband. Ben followed her into the depths of the pub like an obedient hound.

Poor Ben, Effie thought sadly. He was such a good-natured man and he didn’t deserve a vinegar-tongued wife who watched his every move and no doubt nagged him half to death. From the first moment she had met him, when as bedraggled runaways from the workhouse she and Tom had arrived at the pub looking for work, Effie had always liked Ben. He had taken them in when no one else was willing to help two half-starved youngsters and he had been a kind and generous employer, but Maggie was possessed of a jealous nature. She had been convinced that Effie was a threat and nothing would persuade her to think otherwise. She had spied on Effie and had accused her husband of flirting with their young barmaid. Ben had fended off her hysterical outbursts with casual good humour, refusing to admit that the situation was making life difficult for Effie. Then one day Owen had walked into the taproom. Effie found it hard
to believe that the handsome young boatman had fallen in love with her at first sight. Things like that only happened in fairy stories and not to a poor girl from the workhouse. But Owen was not to be denied, and he had wooed and won her with his kindness and gentle adoration.