A Place Called Home (3 page)

Lucy slept fitfully, waking occasionally and shifting position on the cold hard tiles, and every time she moved the dog opened its eyes and wagged its stumpy tail. It was getting light when she was awakened by the animal licking her face, and at first she could not remember where she was, and then it came to her that they were in the doorway of a tobacconist's shop in Upper East Smithfield. She shifted the old woman, who had collapsed against her shoulder and was unnaturally silent. The dog sniffed her and backed out into the street. Lucy touched the frail skin of the wrinkled cheek and felt it cold as ice. She gave her a gentle shake and the body collapsed into a heap. The person who had once lived and breathed now resembled nothing more than a pile of old clothes.

Stifling a cry of distress Lucy struggled to her feet. ‘Granny, I think the old woman is dead.'

EVA OPENED HER
eyes and yawned. ‘What's the matter?' She looked round with the dazed expression of someone awakened from a deep sleep. Yawning, she stretched and pulled a face. ‘Time was when I could sleep on a bed of nails, but not now.'

Lucy dragged her to her feet. ‘She's dead, Granny. Stone cold dead.'

Eva was suddenly alert. She leaned over, placing her hand in front of the old woman's mouth and nose. ‘She's not breathing and that's a fact.'

The dog whined and cringed, keeping close to Lucy. She bent down to pat its head. ‘What should we do? We can't just abandon her here.'

Wide awake now, Eva glanced up and down the street. The traffic at this early hour was light. Men and women ambled with their heads down towards the docks and the warehouses where they worked. ‘She's beyond our help,' Eva said, taking off the old woman's bonnet. She held it up, examining it carefully.

‘What are you doing?' Lucy cried in horror. ‘You can't steal a dead person's things.'

Eva gave her a direct look. ‘She's departed this world but we're alive, and I want us to stay that way. She'll go to heaven or hell with or without her bonnet, but this will fetch a few pennies in the Rag Fair.' She unwound the dead woman's shawl. ‘It's frayed and dirty but I'll get a penny for it. Take a look at her boots, Lucy. They might fit you.'

Lucy recoiled in horror. ‘I'd rather walk barefoot, Granny.'

‘Hold these.' Eva thrust the bonnet and shawl into Lucy's hands. She went down on her knees and unlaced the black boots. ‘They'll do, but I'll have to get them off quick before she stiffens up.'

Lucy stood back, watching with a mixture of fascination and dismay. ‘What are you going to do with her things?'

‘Rosemary Lane is the place to unload this stuff. God alone knows why they renamed it Royal Mint Street, but to me it's still Rosemary Lane. Anyway, that's where we'll sell these duds.' She scrambled to her feet, tugging at the woman's red flannel petticoat. ‘She won't need this to keep her warm where she's gone, and it'll buy us some breakfast.'

‘This is all wrong, Granny,' Lucy protested. ‘It's stealing.'

Eva snatched the bonnet and shawl from her and made a bundle of the clothes and boots. She straightened up, patting Lucy on the shoulder. ‘If we don't make use of these things someone else will. Come along, don't loiter or we'll be spotted.'

‘You can't just leave her here.'

‘Walk on, love. I just seen a couple of bobbies on the other side of the road. They'll deal with the poor old soul. There ain't nothing they ain't seen, poor sods; they're always fishing corpses out of the Thames and the like.' She walked on briskly leaving Lucy no alternative but to follow her, with the dog ambling along at her side.

Eva strode on towards Glasshouse Street and within minutes they had reached the Rag Fair. Lucy knew it well as most of the garments she was wearing had been bought from the stalls that lined the street. She caught up with her grandmother and clutched her arm. ‘What now?'

‘We find a space somewhere. Leave the selling to me and get rid of that smelly cur.'

The dog looked up at Lucy with liquid brown eyes and a tentative wag of his tail. She gave it a reassuring smile, and a silent promise to share her food, if they managed to sell the soiled and shabby garments. Eva seemed to have no such worries and she held up the bonnet, calling out to passers-by to try it on for size. ‘A finer and cheaper article of clothing you'll not get today. Threepence is all I'm asking for my dear mother's bonnet.'

A fat woman wearing a man's coat and a leather apron fingered the material. ‘Is it silk?'

‘Only the best,' Eva assured her.

‘Your ma wasn't wearing it when she passed on, was she?'

‘Certainly not,' Eva said, frowning as if insulted by the question. ‘What d'you take me for, missis?'

‘Twopence,' the woman said, producing two pennies with a flourish. ‘How much d'you want for the boots?'

Within minutes everything was sold. Eva turned to Lucy. ‘Take off your petticoat.'

‘But Granny, it's the only one I've got.'

‘I've found a way to keep us from the gutter, so take it off. I'll take mine off too.' She pulled up her skirt and wriggled out of her calico petticoat. ‘This is the way to make money,' she said, holding it up. ‘Who'll buy a fine cambric petticoat, embroidered by one of the Queen's dressmakers?'

A gentleman wearing a bowler hat and a mustard yellow waistcoat stopped and stared at the garment. ‘Are you sure it was the Queen's dressmaker who did the work?'

‘Cross me heart and hope to die, sir.' Eva gave him a bewitching smile and he blinked as if dazzled by a sudden burst of sunlight.

‘How much, my dear?'

‘A special price to you, sir. Shall we say sixpence?'

He hesitated. ‘That seems rather expensive. It is a little grimy.'

‘It's nothing that a little lye soap and water won't put right, sir. I'd say your lady would be delighted to own such an article of clothing.' She batted her eyelashes at him. ‘I know I would.'

He dropped a silver sixpence into the outstretched hand. ‘I'll take it.' He snatched the petticoat and walked away quickly, as if ashamed to be seen purchasing second-hand garments in the Rag Fair. ‘That's not a present for his wife,' Eva said, chuckling. ‘That'll be a sop to keep his bit of fluff happy.'

‘How do you know that, Granny?'

‘Let's just say that I've known a few gents like that one.' She jingled the coins in her pocket. ‘We're in business, my pet.'

‘But Granny, we haven't got anything left to sell.'

‘Leave that to me. First things first.' Eva looked round, sniffing the air, and the dog lifted its head, eyeing her expectantly. ‘Fried fish. I can smell it a mile off.'

‘Fish, fried fish. Ha'penny fish. Fried fish.' The raucous repetitive sound echoed in Lucy's ear and she turned to see a young woman sashaying amongst the crowds with a tray of smoking hot fish clutched in her mittened hands. Lucy's stomach rumbled and she licked her lips. The dog nuzzled her hand and she stroked its head. ‘I ain't forgot my promise, Peckham.'

‘Peckham?' Eva turned to her with a startled look. ‘What sort of name is that for a dog?'

‘Peckham Rye, Granny. That's where you said I was born. It just came to me because he's an orphan too.'

‘For one thing, you ain't no orphan, and for another thing we got enough trouble looking after ourselves let alone a stray animal.'

‘He's not very big and I'll share my food with him. Please don't send him away.'

Eva thrust a penny into her hand. ‘Get two pieces of fish. I'm not sharing my grub with him.' She scowled at the dog. ‘Peckham! Of all the stupid names to call a mangy creature like that.'

Lucy hurried over to the fish seller and handed her the penny. ‘Two pieces, please.'

The woman wrapped the fish in newspaper. ‘One penny, love.' She peered short-sightedly at Lucy. ‘Do I know you, duck?'

‘I don't think so, miss.'

‘I never forget a face.' She leaned closer, squinting myopically, and reached out to touch Lucy's hair. ‘You must be Eva Pocket's girl. You're the spitting image of her.'

‘What's keeping you, Lucy?' Eva pushed her way through the milling crowds to join them. She came to a halt, staring at the fish seller in surprise. ‘Is that really you, Pearl Sykes? I thought I recognised them dulcet tones.'

‘Eva Pocket. I thought you was banged up in the Bridewell, picking oakum.'

‘Cheeky mare. I thought you was in one of the dead houses along the riverbank.' Eva kissed Pearl's ruddy cheek and ruffled her already tousled mop of fiery red curls. ‘It's good to see you, love.'

‘And you, Eva.' Pearl grinned at Lucy. ‘Your ma is a proper caution. We had some good times in the past, didn't we, Eva?'

‘We certainly did.' Eva put her arm around Lucy's shoulders. ‘But this is my granddaughter, Lucy.'

Pearl's jaw dropped and her eyes widened in surprise. ‘No! I thought this nipper must be Christelle.'

‘You're a bit behind the times, my duck. Christelle is a woman now, but we don't see nothing of her,' Eva said grimly. ‘Lucy's ma took off years ago with a bloke who promised to make her famous. For all I know she's singing in opera houses abroad or touring the music halls.'

‘A penny, you said.' Lucy offered the coin, hoping to distract their attention from the painful subject of the mother she could not remember.

‘I wouldn't dream of taking money off an old friend.' Pearl put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. ‘Oy, Carlos. Take me tray, will you, love? There's only a couple of pieces left to sell.'

A mustachioed man dressed in the costume of a lion tamer strode towards them, hands outstretched. The billboards he was wearing bobbed up and down with each stride. ‘I will buy them, querida mia. I am famished.' He snatched the fish with both hands and took a bite. ‘Come to Astley's Amphitheatre tonight,' he bellowed with his mouth full. He swallowed and his eyes bulged. ‘I got a bone stuck in my throat.' He coughed and spluttered as Pearl slapped him on the billboard. The noise attracted a crowd of curious onlookers. Carlos clutched his throat and dropped the remains of the fish, which was immediately pounced upon by Peckham.

‘He's choking to death,' Pearl cried, looking round in desperation. ‘Somebody help.'

Eva snatched a bread roll off the tray balanced on the head of a passing baker's boy. He protested loudly, demanding to be paid, but she ignored him and broke off a chunk, stuffing it in Carlos's open mouth. ‘Chew and swallow,' she commanded.

By this time his face resembled a boiled beetroot and his eyes were watering. Lucy ran to a barrow where a vendor was selling ginger beer. She thrust a coin in his hand and ran back to Carlos with a brimming mug, spilling some of it in her haste. Eva forced another lump of bread into his mouth with instructions to ‘Stop complaining and get on with it.' Carlos gulped and swallowed and the onlookers watched with growing interest. He coughed and spluttered and then a smile wreathed his face. He sighed with relief. ‘I think it has gone.'

Lucy held the cup to his lips. ‘This might help, mister.'

The crowd drifted off and Carlos drank the liquid in long thirsty gulps. ‘Thank you,' he murmured hoarsely. ‘I buy you a drink in the pub, ladies.'

‘Now you're talking,' Pearl said, cuffing him gently round the ear. ‘You scared us half to death, you silly old sod.'

He shrugged and returned the cup to the barrow. ‘I lost me voice, so it needs lubricating with something stronger than that stuff.'

‘Here, you can't make remarks like that.' The vendor glared at him beneath lowered eyebrows. ‘I could sue you for libel, mate.'

Carlos walked off with a wave of his hand and the billboards clanking against his thighs. ‘Come, ladies. I am buying.' He glanced over his shoulder and winked at Pearl. ‘The first drink only.'

Pearl grabbed Eva by the arm. ‘C'mon, love. We got a lot of catching up to do.'

‘Maybe later,' Eva said reluctantly. ‘I got Lucy to think of, and we need to find lodgings. I can't face another night sleeping rough.'

‘Just the one, Eva. For old times' sake.' Pearl started off after Carlos. ‘The kid can wait outside.'

‘We ought to be looking for a room, Granny,' Lucy said urgently.

Eva hesitated, looking from one to the other. She glanced down at Peckham, who was licking his lips and eyeing the parcel of rapidly cooling fish clutched in Lucy's hand. ‘I'll have one drink and then I'll come,' she said hastily. ‘You can wait outside and eat your dinner. Save a bit for me.' She allowed Pearl to march her off along the street. Lucy followed them with Peckham walking obediently to heel.

Smoky air billowed out of the pub as the doors opened to expel a drunken man and woman who staggered off crabwise along the street, leaning on each other and singing at the tops of their voices.

‘Wait here and don't speak to no one,' Eva said sternly. ‘I won't be long.'

Carlos unbuckled the billboards and propped them up against the wall. ‘Look after these, querida,' he said, patting Lucy on the cheek. He leaned over, lowering his voice in a confidential whisper. ‘I used to travel with Pablo Fanque's circus. I was one of the expert riders in his equestrian troupe, and I was almost as famous as Pablo himself, until a fall put paid to my career. Now, as you see, I am reduced to this.' He patted the billboards with a hearty sigh.

‘Never mind the chit-chat,' Pearl said, grabbing him by the hand. ‘We're wasting drinking time.'

They disappeared into the dark and noisy interior of the pub and the doors swung shut, leaving Lucy to guard the billboards and wait. Peckham nuzzled her hand and she stroked his head. ‘You and me should stick together, cully.'