A Child's Voice Calling (18 page)

‘Oh, but we can look after him much better at home,’ insisted Mabel, whose one idea now was to get her brother out of this place. ‘We’ve got a very good family doctor – oh, please let us take him home,
please
!’

The doctor reluctantly shook his head. He was a young man, not yet thirty, and there was something oddly familiar about him, though Mabel could not recall ever having met him before. ‘Look, Miss Court,
I was asked to come over from the London Hospital to take charge here for the night and if I were to let this young man go without proper authority—’

‘He’s only a lad o’ sixteen, doctor,’ pleaded Harry. ‘I know him and his family well. He shouldn’t be here.’

The doctor seemed half persuaded. ‘That may well be true, Drover, but if the boy’s condition became worse and possibly—’

‘Me mother an’ I’ll take good care o’ him – an’ we’ll send for our panel doctor first thing in the morning,’ said Mabel, her tired grey-blue eyes imploring. ‘Oh, believe me, Albert’ll be far better off in his own bed, doctor!’

‘Well—’

The brief hesitation was enough for Harry who went straight out to look for a hansom cab while the doctor gave Mabel some instructions. ‘Give him drinks but no solid food for twenty-four hours. Keep him in bed and if he starts being sick or loses consciousness let your doctor know at once, Miss Court. And you’d better keep very quiet about this; don’t go talking to people. I hope your doctor’s discreet.’

‘Dr Knowles will understand, I know,’ Mabel assured him. ‘He’s a family friend.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Not Henry Knowles of Hillier Road, Battersea, by any chance?’

‘Yes, that’s the one. Why, do yer know him?’

‘I should do, he’s my father!’

He smiled and she realised why his face seemed familiar. ‘Then you must be Stephen! I’ve heard about yer.’

‘What a happy coincidence, Miss Court. I’ll be able to speak to him myself about Albert.’

Harry came back to say that he had found a cab drawn by a poor old stumbling horse that had been working since dawn the previous day. Dr Knowles lifted Albert’s shoulders while Mabel supported his head and Harry held his legs; this way they carried him out to the corridor and along to a side door, avoiding the front entrance.

‘Now are you sure you’ll be all right, Miss Court?’ asked the doctor and even in her preoccupation with Albert Mabel thought how nice he was, a true son of his father.

‘Yes, with Mr Drover to look after us.’ She smiled as he saw them into the cab, Albert lying across the seat with his head cradled in Mabel’s lap. ‘Thank yer, Dr Stephen!’

Annie wept for joy at seeing them return with Albert and shed even more tears at the state he was in. She thanked Harry for all he had done and Jack dug into his pocket to reimburse the cab fare. ‘Sorry ye’ve had all this hassle, Drover – he’ll be the ruin o’ this family one o’ these days,’ he grumbled. ‘Getting arrested won’t help his job prospects; they’ll never have him back on the railway. End up in prison, I shouldn’t wonder. Thanks, anyway.’

Mabel was at last able to show her own gratitude with a loving kiss as they parted on the doorstep. ‘I can’t ever thank yer enough, Harry – I’d never’ve found him without yer an’ I just couldn’t bear to think o’ him bein’ stuck in that dreadful place all night. Oh, Harry, ye’re so good to us!’

At which Harry Drover considered himself more than rewarded.

Tired as she was, Mabel’s sleep was troubled, and she woke in terror from a dream about policemen
wielding truncheons and bodies falling to the ground. At six she woke again: the daylight was pouring through the thin curtains and her mother was calling to her urgently: ‘Mabel! He’s been sick and his poor eyes are so swollen he can’t open them – oh, Mabel, he’s in a bad way!’

Jack was pulling his clothes on. ‘I’d better get Dr Knowles out, or we’ll have no peace,’ he growled. ‘That boy’ll be the ruin o’ this family, nothing’s more sure.’

Annie was terrified and seemed quite unable to cope, so Mabel had to stay at home to care for Albert and comfort her mother; George was despatched to the Anti-Viv with a hastily scribbled note about sickness in the house.

When Dr Knowles arrived he was eager to hear about his son’s encounter with Albert and his sister. He examined the patient’s eyes and ears, and tested his reflexes; he looked at the bruises and gently felt the bumps on the boy’s head, changing the bandage and pronouncing him to be suffering from the after-effects of concussion. ‘The contusions will take a while to disperse, but there are no broken bones. I agree with Stephen – keep him on fluids and avoid upsetting him with news reports, and he should be all right. It’ll keep the young firebrand out of trouble for the time being, at least.’ He sighed and shook his head as Mabel saw him out. ‘I don’t think the strikers are going to win, poor devils. Anyway, I’ll call back tomorrow – and you can go to work, Mabel,’ he added, once again irritated by Annie Court’s helpless dependence upon her eldest daughter.

Mabel immediately set out for the Anti-Viv, where she reported that her mother who had been poorly was now much better – which was true in a way,
because Annie’s state of mind had calmed as Albert’s condition improved. The housekeeper nodded and told her that she could go to one of the women’s wards to help with the afternoon teas that were served from a trolley. This was an unexpected promotion and Mabel was thrilled to be assisting the nurses in such a direct way. She was asked to help an old lady drink tea from a feeding cup and while not allowed to give out bedpans, could certainly empty them and clean them. Now she really felt on her way to being a proper nurse like the ones on the ward, so smart in their striped uniforms with starched aprons, caps and cuffs: she admired them from afar as she flitted up and down the ward, smiling at the women in the beds as she collected the teacups and plates.

But Dot Watson was filled with resentment.

The next morning Albert was obviously much improved and Dr Knowles said it would only be a matter of time before he was able to work again. But what work? He had no chance at all of going back to his job at the railway depot and Mabel wondered if he could try his luck at one of the many factories along the river – the biscuit and jam factories, the pottery, candleworks and tannery; but for the time being he seemed unusually pensive and sat out in the backyard in the sun as his bruises healed.

Then came an official brown envelope with GR prominently displayed on the headed paper inside: a summons to Albert Edward Court to attend at the South-Western Magistrates’ Court on Lavender Hill the following Monday, to answer a charge of disturbing the king’s peace and obstructing the police in the course of their duty etc., etc. Annie protested that he was not fit to attend, but Albert said that it had got to be faced sooner or later and he might as well go
while he still had bruises from the police truncheon. He refused to allow Jack to accompany him and Annie would be too upset by it, he said. Mabel would have gone, except that she was working at the Anti-Viv and Albert would not let her lose any more time on his account.

The local juvenile strikers who had been arrested at Tower Hill were seen together in one morning session and on the whole they got off lightly. As the magistrate remarked, they had lost their jobs and learned a hard lesson. He lectured them on the importance of abiding by the laws of the land and bound them over to keep the peace. They were fined ten shillings each and Annie almost fainted with relief at Albert’s narrow escape from being labelled a criminal. Mabel, too, threw her arms around his neck and Harry congratulated him. It had been an unpleasant episode, but it was all over now.

Until the following day, when the names of Albert Court, Samuel Mackintosh and the other young offenders were published in the
Evening Standard
as an example for all to see.

‘Oh, how cruel! How unfair! Now he’ll never be able to get a job,’ cried Annie in dismay. ‘Can’t you do anything about it, Jack?’

‘What can I do? He’s brought it all on himself,’ replied Jack impatiently.

‘Never mind, Albert, it’ll be a nine-day wonder and then there’ll be somethin’ else to keep ’em gossipin’,’ said Mabel comfortingly.

‘’S all right, Mabel, ol’ gal, I’m gettin’ aht of ’ere, anyway,’ said Albert grimly. ‘I couldn’t go back to the railways in any case, not after the way we was treated – not wiv the bosses laughin’ at us for riskin’
our lives and then not gettin’ anywhere. It’s the navy for me, soon’s I’m back on me feet.’

Her heart sank, but she knew it was no use to argue with him in this mood. Besides, she was due back to duty at the Anti-Viv. ‘Just don’t say anything to Mum about it, Albert, not yet,’ she warned as she left the house.

But when she reported for work she was directed to the Hospital Secretary’s office and handed an envelope. She tore it open and found a brief letter of dismissal: ‘. . . due to certain circumstances in connection with the recent disturbance of the king’s peace, we regret that your employment as a domestic assistant is terminated forthwith.’

‘But I don’t understand!’ Mabel cried, brandishing the letter in the corridor outside the Secretary’s office. ‘I missed half a day’s work ’cause of illness at home, all right, so I lose half a day’s pay – but I’ve never disturbed the king’s peace or anybody else’s!’

A black-suited man came to the office door. ‘Stop that, or I’ll have you removed,’ he said coldly. ‘We want no agitators here, no strikers, nor any of their sympathisers or collaborators. You’re to leave the premises at once, or the police will be called.’

‘But—’ Suddenly Mabel realised that this was all due to Albert’s appearance in court and his name among the others in the evening newspaper. But how on earth had his name been connected to hers? She had never mentioned the matter at the hospital or anywhere else, remembering the warnings given by both the doctors.

‘Are you leaving or have you to be forcibly removed?’ asked the hospital official.

Which meant that Mabel had no choice. Sick at heart, she turned away and stumbled towards the
hospital gates. Whatever would she do? How could she tell her family – and Miss Carter – that she had got the
sack
? And how had the hospital board found out about Albert?

Dot Watson’s small eyes glinted with satisfaction as she watched the striken figure retreating from the Anti-Viv. Nice work – she was rid of that one!

AT FIRST MABEL
felt that she simply could not go home and face the family, not straight away. Devastated by the blow that had fallen upon her and unable to control her tears, she walked blindly away from the Anti-Viv and up Albert Bridge Road, not sure of which direction to take, wanting only to be alone. To her right the cool greenness of Battersea Park beckoned and she turned aside to wander among the trees, a solitary figure with bowed head, clasping and unclasping her hands. Avoiding the other strollers and surrounded by the scenes of that glorious night of the coronation when she had danced so happily with Harry, she now gave way to her shock and grief at this turn of events.

Everything had been going so well at the hospital, she had quickly been promoted to working on the wards and had got on so well with everybody – well, all except that poor Watson girl who grumbled all the time and for whom Mabel had felt sorry. Apart from her there had been nothing but friendliness and encouragement. And now, like a bolt from the blue, it was all over, and so humiliatingly; she was shamed by association with a disturber of the peace. It would almost be comical if it were not so bitterly unfair. Poor Albert, she thought, and her tears flowed afresh at the realisation that they were both now out of a job. Had he really meant what he’d said about going into the navy? If so, how would she manage at home
without his warmth and support, his quick and often caustic wit, his impetuosity, his fierce loyalty to herself and her mother? Without his protective presence she would feel bereft. Whatever happened, Albert had always been able to coax a laugh from her. Until now . . .

And what would Harry think about his
dear girl
in this kind of trouble? She hoped he wouldn’t blame Albert, not that Harry would ever say anything unkind to his friend, but . . . she gasped as another thought struck her: would Harry be in trouble as well, if it were known that he had helped her find Albert and bring him home after his arrest? It was all too awful to contemplate.

By midday Mabel decided that she could not put off the evil moment any longer and made her reluctant way towards Sorrel Street.

Ill news travels fast. Mrs Finch had called at number 12 to say that another neighbour had seen Mabel Court walking up Albert Bridge Road in the middle of the morning, clearly very upset. ‘Breakin’ ’er ’eart, she was, so Elsie Tonks said. Is summat up wiv the poor gal?’ she asked curiously. With a brute of a husband and a growing family to bring up on too little money, Lily Finch found her only comfort in the misfortunes of her more outwardly respectable neighbours.

Annie had said that it couldn’t possibly have been Mabel, she’d gone to the Anti-Viv that morning as usual, but the seed of doubt had been sown and when Mabel walked in the door at half past twelve with a stony but determinedly composed expression Annie at once demanded to know what had happened. Albert came in from the yard, sensing bad news.

‘I’ve lost me job, that’s all, don’t worry, I can get another,’ said poor Mabel, putting her bag down and throwing her hat on a chair. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, Mum, I’m just dying for a cup o’ tea – d’ye want one?’

But of course Annie and Albert bombarded her with questions, and there was no way of answering them without bringing in her brother’s part in her dismissal. She showed them the letter, now creased and crumpled.

‘I knew there’d be trouble when they printed those names in the paper!’ wailed Annie.

‘Bloody ’ell, Mabel, ’ow the devil did them buggers know yer was me sister?’ asked Albert, scratching his head in genuine puzzlement. ‘Yer ain’t talked abaht me, ’ave yer?’

‘’Course not, I never once mentioned yer – I said Mum had been poorly in all this heat.’ Mabel sighed, wearily getting up to put the kettle on, as neither of the others had.