Eve of the Isle (12 page)

Eve was seething. After all Joan had been through! She had only tripped over because she was tipsy and her bad back was not so bad that she couldn't get out of bed and search for her gin. If Joan was upset, it was because of Harold and the row they'd had last night. ‘You'll have it on the table for six,' Eve said coldly.

In their room, Peg was red in the face with anger. ‘The bare-faced cheek of it! I could strangle the pair of them.' She wagged a finger at the door. ‘No wonder I kept me distance from the pair of bloody hypocrites. C of E they call themselves. I'll bet Lucifer himself would turn them away from his fire.'

‘Calm down, Peg. Let's wash.'

But Peg sat on the bed and folded her arms. ‘You won't catch me down in that dump.'

‘It's only to keep him happy.'

‘I'd like to land him one. And her too.'

‘Well, don't just yet. We need this room.'

But Peg threw back her head and snorted. ‘Tell you what, girl, I've just about had enough of this.'

Eve sighed deeply. She had too, but there was nowhere else to go. ‘Come on, boys, we'll brave the elements for a wash. Now bring that towel and bar of Sunlight.'

The boys nodded obediently and followed her, shoulders sloping and heads bowed. Eve could see that even their young spirits were being crushed.

‘I'm hungry,' complained Albert as they slowly filed down the cold and draughty stairs. A wind rattled through the open spaces and shadows were hiding in the corners.

‘I'll cook dinner soon.'

‘Will Uncle Harold get his first?'

‘Of course.'

Eve pushed Albert and Samuel through the creaking door of the hut.

‘It's dark in here,' Albert cried. ‘Can't see nothing.'

‘And freezing,' said Samuel, shivering.

‘We can see by the moonshine through the window. Strip to your waists, boys. The quicker you get your shirts and vests off the sooner they'll be back on. I'll test the water first.'

Eve turned on the tap and put her hands and face under. She tried to stifle a gasp. Washing as best she could, anger and rebellion ignited inside her as her children were made to suffer the indignities of Bambury Buildings.

She could never live in a place like this. No wonder all the residents quarrelled and looked depressed and unhappy. Isle Street might be classed as a slum, but it was heaven compared to this.

The boys' teeth rattled as they dressed again. Eve made a promise to herself; she would find the money from somewhere to rent lodgings. But first she had to go back to work.

That night, when Harold had finished his dinner, Eve attempted to create a miracle from what was left in the larder. Dividing the two sausages and vegetables amongst the four of them it was a meagre offering. But she didn't dare tell Joan the larder was empty.

Approaching Harold was even worse. She didn't want to speak to him. So far she had managed to keep one of the boys or Peg with her, so that she was never alone with him. Now she was quickly washing up, keeping alert for his footsteps yet again.

She had just put away the final plate when he appeared. Her heart raced so fast, she felt dizzy. Trying to side-step him, she was stopped by his plump body as it moved faster than she expected across her path.

‘Eve, I'd like to speak to you.'

Eve shrank back. Her eyes darted around the small space searching for escape. But Harold had positioned himself strategically, blocking the doorway. The smell of him drifted towards her, as he stroked his moustache thoughtfully.

‘I'd like you to come into the parlour.'

Eve stiffened. ‘We can talk here.'

‘No, the parlour if you please.'

She was frightened. Would he trap her in there, try something on? She tried to reassure herself that Peg and the boys were in calling distance. But how could she expose Harold without causing trouble?

‘I can't be long.'

‘What is there to rush for?'

‘I say prayers with the boys before they go to sleep.'

Harold smirked. ‘Oh, yes, you're RC.' He said it sarcastically, a nasty look in his watery eyes.

He stood back and extended his arm for Eve to pass by. She almost ran into the parlour and searched quickly for an escape route, but there was only the door. Harold followed her and closed it.

‘Please sit down.'

‘No thanks, I'd rather stand.'

Harold took the settee by the table on which the
radio stood. He made himself comfortable, patting the seat beside him. ‘Sit down, Eve.' He took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. ‘Let's try to be friends. You may need a shoulder to cry on from what I've heard.'

‘What do you mean?' Eve felt sick with apprehension.

‘Your cottage is ruined.'

‘That's not true.'

‘I heard it from an official source.'

Eve swallowed. ‘What source?'

‘The police. I went to the station at Stepney today and spoke to the desk sergeant.'

Eve gasped. ‘But why?'

‘I wanted to find out the true position of your circumstances. After all, you've been with us a week and last night Joan was upset about your behaviour towards her.'

‘I only tried to help,' Eve spluttered. She felt like she was on trial. And what right did he have to check on her?

‘You leave her alone too much. The point of you being here was to be with her, provide a bit of company and to help with the chores in return for our hospitality. I told you she gets lonely and needs cheering up. Last night she had sunk into one of her depressions. I couldn't console her.'

‘Perhaps that was because you were shouting too loud,' Eve said before she could stop herself.

Harold's smug smile disappeared. ‘I wasn't shouting.' For a portly man, he rose quickly. ‘How dare you speak to me like that? I'm your host.'

Eve took a step back as he moved towards her.

‘When will you see reason?' He stopped and put out his hand. ‘I only want to help you.'

‘Then leave me alone.'

‘But I want to comfort you.'

‘I don't need comforting.' Eve couldn't move either way.

‘Of course you do. I could give you so much, my dear. Look, here, this is for your boys.' He dug in his pocket and brought out a handful of silver coins. ‘You can buy them some new clothes and whatever you want for yourself. A nice dress instead of that dreadful shawl. Take it off, it spoils your lovely figure.'

Eve was insulted. ‘This was my mother's. I don't want your money.'

‘Everyone has a price.'

‘Get away from me or I'll scream.'

‘This is your home now and you'll do as I say. Take this and enjoy it. All I ask is that you allow me to be your friend.'

Eve pushed him away and the coins fell on the floor. She let out a scream as he fell on her, covering her mouth with his hand. She fought to push him off but he was strong. She tried to drag away his arm; he was suffocating her. His eyes were glazed and unfocused as he mumbled, the smell of him making her want to retch.

‘Just one kiss, Eve, just one and I'll let you go . . .' He moved his hand away from her mouth. She was about to scream when his lips closed over hers. His tongue forced its way into her mouth. Eve closed her eyes in terror. She couldn't move as he was leaning hard on her. It took all her willpower to go limp and quiet, as though she would allow him to do what he wanted. She kept her eyes closed, as he tore off her shawl and found her breast. His tongue drove into her mouth again. When he pulled up her skirt she offered no resistance. ‘Good girl,' he whispered, ‘this won't take long.'

Eve opened her eyes slowly. She looked into his face contorted with lust. How could Joan ever let this man touch her?

‘You have a beautiful body. It should not go to waste.'

As he fumbled to unzip his trousers, Eve brought up her knee. The last thing she saw before she fled the room was the strands of thin hair across his bald pate as he choked and fell to the floor.

‘You bitch! You cow!' screamed Joan as she faced Eve in the hall. ‘Try it on with my husband would you? Then run away?'

‘It wasn't me who tried it on.'

‘Liar!'

Eve stared at the woman who half an hour ago had been suffering such a severe depression she was unable to get out of bed. She was now on her feet,
yelling at the top of her voice as Eve gathered the boys together whilst Peg packed their bags. Thank goodness they didn't have much, Eve thought as she pushed Samuel and Albert towards the front door and opened it. After Harold's attack Eve knew they had come to the end of their time here. When she'd run back to their room, she had told the boys they were about to leave. Peg knew there was something wrong, but asked no questions, telling the boys to do as their mother asked.

‘You tart!' exclaimed Joan, flying at Eve, her arms outstretched.

But Peg caught hold of her sister. ‘Listen, you dozy mare, for once in your life open your eyes. Why would a good-looking girl like Eve want to be bothered with an old coot like Harold?'

‘Don't you speak about my husband like that!'

‘I don't know what went on,' Peg answered as she stood with a bag under each arm, ‘but I know who I'd rather believe and it ain't your old man.'

Eve led the boys out into the frosty night air. She didn't want to confront Joan in their presence and Harold was too much of a coward to come out from the parlour. She hoped he was suffering after what he had done.

‘You eat us out of house and home and take advantage of our hospitality,' cried Joan following them to the front door. ‘And then you accuse my poor Harold of . . . of . . .'

‘Being a dirty old man,' yelled Peg as she hurried to join Eve. When she had caught her breath she looked back at her sister. ‘It's a bit like 'istory repeating itself ain't it, Joan? Only I was prepared to give the old lecher the benefit of the doubt when we came here a week ago. I thought, seeing as he's now a pillar of the Christian community, he might have changed his ways, become the loving husband you always professed he was. You certainly told me a few home truths all those years ago, and accused me of what you accused Eve of tonight. But if you've got any sense, you'll take a good long look at the saint you live with and ask yourself a few questions. Or do you know the truth and drown it in gin?'

Eve watched Joan's expression change: her eyes filled with tears and her body seemed to shake, until, reaching out to the wall, she steadied herself. ‘Get out,' she whispered hoarsely. ‘Get out and don't ever come back. I don't want to set eyes on you again. To me, you are dead.'

The slam of the door made Eve jump. She looked at Peg whose face in the darkness was white.

‘Peg, you all right?' Eve asked gently.

‘Yeah, gel, it'll take more than her to get me down.'

‘Why was she shouting?' asked Albert, sniffing loudly as he took Eve's hand. ‘We ain't done nothing wrong.'

‘Oh, take no notice of her, chic,' Peg dismissed, waving her hand. ‘You two have seen a bit of the grown-up world tonight, but don't let it worry you. It's what happens in families, a tiff or two never hurt anyone.
Come on, let's get down those stairs and find ourselves a bed for the night. We'll try the old Sally again, they won't turn us away.' She winked quickly at Eve.

‘What did Uncle Harold do?' persisted Albert, as they went down the dark stairs.

‘He put his arm round Mummy,' answered Samuel before Peg or Eve could reply.

‘When?' his brother asked curiously.

‘The other night. It was in the kitchen when you was playing dominoes with Peg. He jumped away when he saw me.'

There was silence as they all stood outside in the light of the lamp that reflected dully on Bambury Buildings. Albert looked up at Peg. ‘Did he put his arm round you too, Peg?'

She threw back her head and laughed. ‘Yes, chic, he tried to once, but it was a long time ago.'

‘I don't want to cuddle no girls,' said Albert, wrinkling his nose in disgust. ‘That Bernadette Flanagan at school is always trying to kiss me. And she stinks worse than our lav!'

Everyone laughed, dispelling the tension. Eve smiled to herself. Kids had a wonderful way of making light of things. At least she didn't have to convince Peg that she was innocent of leading Harold on; it seemed that Peg knew only too well for herself.

Once more they were sleeping on the mats in the church hall, though none of the Sally Army members
they had met before were there. Another captain had allowed them a corner as there were no free beds. The number of homeless had expanded; they were mostly men now who snored and coughed in their sleep or shuffled out noisily to the lavatory. Eve thought longingly of their cottage, but now it was infested with rats, mice and bugs it was too unsanitary to inhabit – she still had images in her mind of the cholera stories. Once more she tossed and turned on the hard mats.

‘You asleep, gel?' Peg's coarse whisper came from over the heads of the two sleeping boys.

‘No. Me mind won't stop working.'

Peg gave a cough. ‘I could do with a fag. Jimmy's promised to get me a bit of cheap baccy, seeing as how there was plenty ditched at the docks in the flood.'

‘Won't it be ruined?'

‘There was plenty that wasn't. It was first come first served to those who were in the know.'

Eve sat up. ‘I hope he knows what he's doing. Is Jimmy still with his mate at Shoreditch?'

‘So he says.'

‘When do you think we can go back to the cottage?'

‘Dunno, love.'

‘Peg, why didn't you warn me about Harold?'

Her friend was silent for a while, then gave a deep sigh. ‘It was a long time ago. I thought he might have turned over a new leaf. And if you remember we was desperate.'

Eve thought about this. They had been desperate. She could understand Peg not saying. ‘Well, he ain't changed.'