A Brighter Tomorrow, Maggie Ford [types of ebook readers .TXT] 📗

the three steps to the door just before Mrs Jenkins could close it.

‘Dora’s things!’ she shot at her. ‘Please get them for her!’

‘I don’t think—’

‘Get them!’ Ellie blazed, her tone bringing stares from two passers-by.

The door shut on her. She waited, Dora shivering with cold, sniffing with the remains of her own cold. Had Mrs Jenkins closed the door for good or just closed it to keep her out while she collected what was necessary?

Her ear close to the wood, she could hear Mrs Lowe’s raised voice, Doctor Lowe trying to pacify her. How must he be feeling? Ellie put the thought from her. She couldn’t concern herself about that just now.

There was one thought in her mind: if Dora’s outdoor clothes weren’t forthcoming soon, she might catch pneumonia, just as Mum had done.

What if Doctor Lowe wouldn’t come out to her? But of course he would.

What had she done, going off half-cocked on the spur of the moment? Had she made things worse? But if this door didn’t open soon she would kick at it with her foot, hammer on it, bellow for all the street to hear.

Then suddenly Mrs Jenkins was thrusting a shabby carpetbag into her hands. ‘If she don’t come back, you can come and collect her things for her. That’s what I was told to say. Mrs Lowe don’t want to see her any more. She says to say she’s deverstated, she’s really deverstated.’

The door closed abruptly. In the street, Ellie opened the carpetbag and pulled out coat, scarf, gloves, and quickly got Dora into them. She made her draw the stockings on only as far as her calves – no woman should be seen putting on stockings in the street – and eased her boots on over them.

With her arm about the girl, trying to get her warm, she walked her along Cambridge Heath Road, crossing the wide junction into Bethnal Green Road and continuing down along Gales Gardens.

‘Good Lord, luv,’ gasped Mrs Sharp as she saw the two standing on her doorstep. ‘What in Gawd’s name… Come in, yer both look perished.’

By the warmth of Mrs Sharp’s back-room fire, and with hot mugs of cocoa clasped between their hands, the chill slowly oozed out of their bones. Ellie hadn’t realized how cold she herself was, though it was more from the trauma of what had happened than from the cold February weather.

Quickly she told Mrs Sharp all that had happened. ‘So you see, you were the only one I could think of coming to.’

‘You two should stay ’ere tonight. It’ll be dark soon and yer can’t go all that way back to where you live on a day like this and in the dark. You’ll ’ave no fire to heat up yer rooms and yer can’t go ter be in the cold – not this kind of cold. Yer’ll both catch yer death. I’ll make up the couch and yer can sleep top ter toe, if that’s all right. I’ll keep the fire in all night. It’s orright: I got money enough ter burn a bit of coal. Ronnie brings in good wages nowadays. The girls too. We don’t live too bad these days. Not like when they was kids.’

She chatted on as she pottered about, cutting up the still-warm joint of lamb from their midday Sunday dinner to make sandwiches for the two girls. ‘I’ve got some prunes and custard left over, so yer can ’ave them for yer afters. Sorry, there ain’t no ’taters and greens left over from dinner, but my lot don’t ’alf know ’ow to scoff.’

‘Did Ronnie have dinner with his fiancée’s people?’ Ellie enquired while Dora was in the girl’s bedroom putting her stockings on properly and doing her hair with brash, comb and hairpins that Mrs Jenkins, sensible woman, had thoughtfully put in with the clothes.

Mrs Sharp grimaced. ‘Him? No, he ’ad it ’ere, what he et of it. Had a bust-up with his girl. I think it’s orf fer good now.’ Ellie felt her insides give a leap. ‘What happened?’ she managed to ask calmly.

Again Mrs Sharp pulled a face. ‘Oh, they was always arguing. It’s bin on an’ off fer months. Bit of a la-di-da, she is. Wants ter move to the country, wants ’im ter rent a blooming big ’ouse – more’n he can afford. Wants the bloody moon, I think. And ’im, silly sod, bin puttin’ up with it for months. Too soft, that one. She wants everything ’er way. He don’t ’ave no say in it. Well, I think it’s finally come ter the crunch, and bloody good riddance I say. I didn’t go much on ’er anyway.’

It was hard to speak without her voice trembling. ‘Where is he now?’

‘In the front room. Said he wants ter be left alone. So that’s that for the while. You feeling warmer now, you two?’

‘Yes thank you. And thank you for letting us stay the night,’ Ellie said smoothly; but her heart was singing.

Twenty-Seven

It was marvellous having Dora with her. At last, someone to share her room, a room that had been so lonely. True, it was somewhat cramped, but so it had been when they had lived at home, the two of them having to share the one bed, as they now did. But as the weeks passed, Dora began showing signs of becoming bored.

At first she had been excited at not having Mrs Lowe to restrain her freedom and wanted to go out nearly every other day, Ellie finding herself having to leave her work to take her to see different places. It was almost as if the girl was up from the country and had never seen London before. No one would have taken her for a Londoner born and bred.

‘When I was with Mrs Lowe,’ she told Ellie, ‘we’d always go out in a closed cab straight to one of the bigger department stores or to a small milliner’s or a gown shop, and it would be in,