Day by day it became more and more difficult for me to throw dust in my
own eyes about the Olivers.
One evening on reaching their house a little after six, as usual, I
found the front door open, the kitchen empty save for baby, who, sitting
up in her cot, was holding quiet converse with her toes, and the two
Olivers talking loudly (probably by pre-arrangement) in the room
upstairs.
The talk was about baby, which was "a noosance," interfering with a
man's sleep by night and driving him out of his home by day. And how
much did they get for it? Nothing, in a manner of speaking. What did the
woman (meaning me) think the "bleedin' place" was--"a philanthropic
institooshun" or a "charity orginisation gime"?
After this I heard the bricklayer thunder downstairs in his heavy boots
and go out of the house without coming into the kitchen, leaving his
wife (moral coward that he was) to settle his account with me.
Then Mrs. Oliver came down, with many sighs, expressed surprise at
seeing me and fear that I might have overheard what had been said in the
room above.
"Sorry to say I've been having a few words with Ted, ma'am, and tell you
the truth it was about you."
Ted had always been against her nursing, and she must admit it wasn't
wise of a woman to let her man go to the public-house to get out of the
way of a crying child; but though she was a-running herself off her feet
to attend to the pore dear, and milk was up a penny, she had growd that
fond of my baby since she lost her own that she couldn't abear to part
with the jewel, and perhaps if I could pay a little more--Ted said
seven, but she said six, and a shilling a week wouldn't hurt me--she
could over-persuade him to let the dear precious stay.
I was trembling with indignation while I listened to the woman's whining
(knowing well I was being imposed upon), but I was helpless and so I
agreed.
My complacency had a bad effect on the Olivers, who continued to make
fresh extortions, until their demands almost drove me to despair.
I thought a climax had been reached when one night a neighbour came to
the door and, calling Mrs. Oliver into the lobby, communicated some news
in a whisper which brought her back with a frightened face for her cloak
and hat, saying "something was a matter with Ted" and she must "run away
quick to him."
When she returned an hour or two later she was crying, and with sobs
between her words she told me that Ted (having taken a drop too much)
had "knocked somebody about" at the "Sun." As a consequence he had
fallen into the hands of the police, and would be brought before the
magistrate the following morning, when, being unable to pay the fine, he
would have to "do time"--just as a strike was a-coming on, too, and he
was expecting good pay from the Strike Committee.
"And what is to happen to me and the baby while my 'usband is in
prison?" she said.
I knew it was an act of weakness, but, thinking of my child and the
danger of its being homeless, I asked what the amount of the fine would
probably be, and being told ten-and-six, I gave the money, though it was
nearly all I had in the world.