A Child's Voice Calling (37 page)

Mabel caught Miss Carter’s eye. Could this vision be the chatty, giggly girl who used to read racy novels during the children’s rest hour?

Nobody noticed a slightly built young man with a Salvation Army cap who entered the church just after
the ceremony began and quietly took a place at the back.

The bride and groom made their promises, and were duly pronounced man and wife. The organ pealed out the wedding march as they progressed down the aisle and out into the sunshine where a photographer waited to take a picture.

Maud rushed to Mabel’s side. ‘Don’t she look a treat, eh? When’re we goin’ to do the same, Mabel? Hey, why ain’t yer wiv yer young man?’

Mabel shook her head. ‘He’s not here, Maudie.’

‘’E jolly well is, y’know! Look be’ind yer, over there – must’ve been sittin’ at the back. Look, ’e’s as moonstruck as ever for yer!’

Mabel froze. Yes, Harry Drover stood just a few yards away, his brown eyes fixed on her. Whatever should she do?

‘Wotcher, ‘Arry!’ Maud called out, running up to him and planting a smacking kiss on his cheek. ‘Now go an’ pass that on to Mabel. She’s waitin’ for yer to take ’er up to the big do!’

Red-faced with embarrassment but warmed by Maud’s exuberance, Harry hesitantly walked over to where Mabel stood. ‘Hello, Mabel,’ he said shyly. ‘It was nice o’ them to invite me, an’ I’m so glad to see yer.’

Mabel’s heart was pounding as she lifted her eyes to his. How handsome his honest, open face appeared to her, more kind and sensitive by far than Arthur’s or Charlie’s. But he was not for her, not now that everything had changed. ‘I thought ye’d be at Clapton College,’ she muttered and the words sounded cold.

‘Well, yes, I am, but I’ve come over for this,’ he
said, smiling with careful politeness. ‘How are yer, Mabel? I heard ye’d moved to Tooting.’

She swallowed. ‘Yes, I, er, I live with my grandmother.’

‘Oh, yes, Mrs Court. Er, have yer heard anythin’ o’ George, Mabel?’

At the mention of her brother’s name she immediately wanted to share the news she’d received that very day. ‘Oh, yes, a letter came this mornin’ – he sounds as if he’s happy, workin’ on a big farm in Alberta. An’ he’s got this good friend Davy Hoek, it’s a Dutch name, an’ George says—’ She stopped, realising that she was gabbling.

Harry noticed how her eyes had brightened when she spoke of George. ‘I’m very glad to hear that, Mabel,’ he began and she dreaded that any minute now he’d start asking her why George had been sent so far away.

She abruptly turned to Maud, her eyes pleading to be rescued, and her friend laughingly obliged, taking her arm. ‘C’mon, Mabel, let’s walk up togevver an’ let these two gents foller on. I got lots to tell yer!’ she said gaily, though in fact she had just as much to ask.

The bride and groom having left in their carriage, followed by the more important guests in their conveyances, the less important now began walking up to Northside.

Maud bent her head close, so that their hats touched. ‘Never a dull moment at Bryanston Square, Mabel. ’Er Ladyship’s ’avin’ the time of ’er life. I worry abaht ’er sometimes, to tell the trufe – she sails awful close to the wind, if yer get me meanin’, and I ’ave me work cut aht coverin’ up for ’er wiv ol’ Bald-’ead. She couldn’t do wivout me, an’ that’s a fact.’

Mabel had to smile at the idea of the brilliant
society hostess being dependent upon a doting cockney maidservant and Maudie’s touching sense of responsibility towards her mistress.

‘Honestly, Mabel, I wouldn’t dare take the sort o’ risks she does. Charlie knows just how far ’e can go wiv me, an’ no farver. No sense in
arskin
’ for trouble, is there?’

‘Be careful, Maudie, ye’d be right up the creek if she got caught.’ To Mabel Her Ladyship sounded both reckless and unprincipled, for all her beauty.

Maudie looked behind her. ‘’Op it, bofe o’ yer,’ she ordered the two young men. ‘Me an’ Mabel wants a bit o’ privacy. See yer at Woodlands, right?’

When they were a little apart from the other walkers, Maud whispered a question. ‘What’s up wiv poor ol’ ‘Arry? Summat’s wrong, i’n’it? Go on, yer can tell yer auntie Maud. Is it ’cause o’ the Sally Army?’

Mabel almost groaned out loud. To confide in her old friend would be such a relief. ‘Ye’ve just said it, Maudie,’ she answered, her voice shaking. ‘I can’t marry into the Salvation Army, not after what’s happened – how could I?’

‘Yer mean – yer muvver doin’ ’erself in, an’ yer farver takin’ a header dahn the stairs, like?’ Maud’s tone was gentle but meaningful and Mabel nodded wretchedly.

‘And . . . and they both had a . . . a horrible disease, Maudie, and the doctor thought I might’ve got it an’ all, only he tested me blood and I hadn’t, but—’

‘Christ, Mabel, d’yer mean the pox? Oh, my Gawd, yer poor muvver, no wonder she – oh, Mabel, this is bad. An’ poor little George, did ’e—?’

‘I can’t talk about it, Maudie, ’cause of our doctor
who helped us out an’ saved George – oh, Maudie, everythin’s
changed
, can’t yer see?’

‘Sh, Mabel don’t get het up – as a matter o’ fact I fought it might be summat like that,’ said Maud quietly, tightening her hold on Mabel’s arm. ‘Listen, I jus’ want to ask yer one more question, that’s all. D’ye still love ‘Arry?’

‘How can yer ask me such a thing?’ cried Mabel in rising agitation. ‘What’s it matter anyway? He couldn’t stay in the Army if he married me, could he? And it’s his
life
, Maudie, his father and mother and sister an’ her husband, they’re all in it. An’ more ’n that, he says it’s what the
Lord
wants him to do!’

She was on the verge of tears, and Maudie quickly cut in. ‘A’right, Mabel, ye’ve answered me question. Don’t upset yerself any more, let’s just enjoy Ada’s weddin’. Look, we’re nearly there – cor! Nearly as posh as Bryanston Square! Nah then, no more sad talk, an’ that’s an order. C’mon, let’s find the fellers – that’s if they ain’t fahnd anuvver couple o’ gals while we bin jabberin’!’

Maud’s determined gaiety concealed an aching pity for the friend whose outburst had so plainly proclaimed her continuing, despairing love for Harry Drover. And as for that shocking bit she’d let out about the pox, what a thing to happen to
her
, of all people. Poor, poor Mabel . . .

Through the arched gate of Woodlands the guests progressed into an imposing entrance hall and spacious reception room where the bridal pair were waiting to greet the foot soldiers, as Charlie called them.

‘Thanks for coming, Mabel.’ Ada smiled, enveloping her in a cloud of crumpled white muslin. ‘It was
Arthur’s idea to ask Harry, so’s you an’ him can get together again!’

And there he was, standing alone and looking towards her while guests mingled around them, chatting and sipping wine from trays handed round by waiters. He only had eyes for her and she stood rooted to the spot as he came to her side. ‘I hope ye’ll let me take yer in to tea or supper or whatever they call it, Mabel. The food’s all laid out in the next room along,’ he said pleasantly, clearly attempting to put her at her ease.

She looked up at him helplessly. Maud was nowhere in sight.

‘I’ve missed yer so much, Mabel. Can yer give me any idea o’ how long it’ll be before yer feel able to – I mean, are yer feelin’ any better yet from the trouble ye’ve been through?’

Still she could not speak, could not turn away from this dear friend, this young man who adored her as much as ever. They stood simply looking into each other’s eyes and Harry saw the love in hers as plainly as if she had declared it. And yet her words were a denial. ‘No. No. Please don’t ask.’

At that moment there was a sudden commotion in the entrance hall and heads turned to look at a black-clad figure who had come in. With an unbecoming black hat perched on her head and glancing distractedly round her, this strange-looking woman was clearly no wedding guest; on the contrary, superstitious onlookers might have thought her an ill omen, a messenger with bad news.

Good heavens, thought Mabel, it’s Miss Lawton. She put a hand to her throat. What new trouble was this? Leaving Harry’s side, she hurried towards the
woman in black. ‘What is it, Miss Lawton? Why’re yer here?’

‘I . . . I’m sorry, Mabel, just when you’re, er, but Mrs Court says you’re to come at once. I’ve got a c-cab outside,’ faltered Miss Lawton, wringing her hands.

‘But why? What’s happened? For God’s sake, tell me – out with it!’

Maudie had sidled up to Mabel, overcome with curiosity. ‘What’s up?’

‘Sh, Maudie, let Miss Lawton speak.’

‘I . . . I’m sorry, Mabel, but your little sister – little Daisy—’

‘
Daisy
? Oh, my God, what’s happened to her?’ Mabel’s eyes dilated with fear.

‘It . . . it’s all right, Mabel, she’s at . . . at Mrs Court’s house. She’s run away.’

‘Run away? From Belhampton, yer mean? All on her own?’

‘Yes, sh-she caught a train to Waterloo Station and then got on a Battersea bus, but didn’t have enough money – she went to the police station. She’s very upset, and M-Mrs Court says you must come and . . . and deal with her.’

‘Oh, my poor little Daisy!’ Mabel put her hands to her head. ‘I’ll have to go, Maudie,
now
, this minute – did yer say ye’d got a cab, Miss Lawton?’

‘Ye-es, Mabel, it’s waiting. M-Mrs Court sent me in it. I’m so sorry.’

Harry appeared at Mabel’s side. ‘Let me come with yer, Mabel,’ he begged. ‘Daisy’ll trust me, it’ll be easier if I’m with yer.’

Mabel turned round and faced him squarely. Already overwrought by what had passed between her and Maud, her head was throbbing and she had
had nothing to eat since a light breakfast. This latest blow was too much to bear and her self-control gave way altogether. ‘For Christ’s sake leave me alone, will yer?’ she shrieked. ‘Go back to yer college and find a Salvation Army girl to marry! Can’t yer see that everythin’s
changed
?’

His face paled. ‘
I
haven’t changed, Mabel, nor will I ever,’ he said levelly. ‘I shan’t marry any girl but you.’

‘Then ye’ll stay single all yer life. Oh,
God
, Harry, can’t yer see I’m savin’ yer a life o’ disgrace an’ misery? Just go away, can’t yer?
Go away
!’

Maudie, Charlie, Miss Carter, the bridal couple and other guests watched in horrified disbelief as Mabel grabbed Miss Lawton’s arm and dragged her from the room, through the entrance hall and out to where the cab stood waiting on Northside.

‘
MABEL, MABEL! LET
me stay with yer, Mabel,
please
!’

Daisy rushed at her sister with outstretched arms as she’d done as a toddler and at once Mabel knew that she had to make a supreme effort to pull herself together. ‘Sh, Daisy, it’s all right, Mabel’s here,’ she whispered, resolutely stifling her own emotional turmoil. Looking up over the child’s dark head, she met her grandmother’s sardonic gaze; and beside her stood a uniformed policeman.

‘Well, here’s a fine how-d’ye-do, I must say! And there was me thinkin’ that Daisy was livin’ in the lap o’ luxury, with all the comforts that her Aunt Bountiful could provide – an’ now she turns up on the doorstep sayin’ she’s run away. Dear me!’

‘Don’t send me back, Mabel!’ cried Daisy.

Mabel hugged her closely. ‘No, dear, I won’t send yer back, sh, sh.’

‘But what do we say to the constable who’s had his valuable time taken up?’ demanded Mimi. ‘He’s been tellin’ me all about yer poor aunt an’ uncle, nearly out o’ their wits with worry.’

Mabel was annoyed by this heavy sarcasm directed at a frightened child. ‘I’ll take care o’ her, constable,’ she said promptly.

‘That’s up to you, miss, only I’ll ’ave to telephone through to the Bel’ampton police to let ’em know she’s turned up ’ere,’ he replied, glancing down at his notebook.

‘And I’ll write to my Aunt Somerton as soon as I can,’ said Mabel.

‘Good. It’s best to keep in touch with all yer family at a time like this.’

He looked at Mimi who gave him a smile and a gracious nod of dismissal. ‘I’m very sorry ye’ve been troubled, officer, but I think we can sort this out ourselves now. Good day to yer.’ After seeing him out, Mimi irritably asked Miss Lawton what she was gawping at and, seating herself in an armchair, turned her attention to the runaway. ‘So what happened, Daisy? What went wrong?’

Daisy’s eyes turned to Mabel who smiled back encouragingly. ‘I just missed Mabel – and George,’ she said in a small voice, overawed by her grandmother’s stern presence.

‘But yer had yer aunt and uncle – and Alice?’

Daisy hung her head in silence, fidgeting with her hair ribbon that had come adrift. Tears welled up in her eyes and Mabel decided to intervene. ‘For goodness’ sake, Grandmother, she’s only eight and she’s been through so much. Can’t I take her up to my room and let her rest an’ have somethin’ to eat? She must be starving.’

As had happened in the past when faced with Mabel’s defiance, Mimi Court capitulated. Her heavy features softened somewhat. ‘Yer can share a room up on the second floor. I’ll tell Elsie to make up the bed an’ bring yer up some cold mutton and bread. I’ll put the kettle on meself.’ She got up from the armchair. ‘An’ I’m sorry I had to fetch yer back from the weddin’, but with the copper standin’ there takin’ notes, I needed yer to show yer face an’ calm the child down.’

‘Thank yer, Grandmother,’ replied Mabel, though
she perceived that Mimi Court was as pleased as Punch at this development. Another point scored over those jumped-up Chalcotts!

The sisters shared their supper picnic-style on the bed and Mabel felt it was time to ask some questions. ‘Now, Daisy, tell me exactly why yer ran away from Aunt Nell and Uncle Thomas. Weren’t they kind to yer?’

‘Yes, they thought they were kind, but I missed yer so much, Mabel, and it made me naughty,’ came the innocent reply. ‘Alice doesn’t care about Albert or George, she’s so pleased to get away from that post office an’ Miss Chatt, an’ all she thinks about is nice clothes an’ havin’ her hair up, and Aunt Nell kept on sayin’ how sensible she is an’ why can’t I be good as well – an’ even
you
wrote an’ told me to be good, and – oh, Mabel, I just want to be back like we were before!’