she repeated dazedly. ‘What sort of name is Raven?’
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Jacob said crossly. ‘It’s better that you know nothing about our friend.’
‘He’s not my friend,’ Essie countered. ‘I don’t like it, Pa.’
‘Just get on with your work, girl. I want you to go to the wharfinger’s office and see if he’s got any jobs that you can do. I don’t know how long our guest will be staying or how long I’m going to be laid up. Don’t think I’m enjoying this, because I’m not.’
Essie relented. Her father’s face was lined with suffering and he looked pale and ill. ‘All right, Pa. I’ll go out and get some fresh bread for breakfast and some coffee from the stall in Nightingale Lane.’
‘I haven’t got money to burn,’ Jacobs muttered. ‘You ought to make up the fire and put the kettle on.’
Essie took a deep breath, praying for patience. ‘I would, Pa. But we’ve run out of coal and kindling.’
‘Oh, well, do what you must, girl.’ Jacob lay back and closed his eyes. ‘I can’t sleep properly on this thing. I miss my bed.’
Essie snatched up her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders, biting back the sharp words that threatened to tumble from her lips. ‘I’ll be back soon, Pa.’
She let herself out of the house and hurried down the street, nodding to Gaffer Wiggins, the chimney sweep, who was mustering his gang of small apprentices ready for the day’s work. Essie smiled at the boys, all of them tiny, undernourished and very young, but they did not respond. She saw them nearly every day and, had it been in her power, she would have taken them home, given them a bath in the tin tub in front of the fire and fed them nourishing food. But they belonged to their master and the many attempts by those in power to improve their lot had been largely ignored.
Essie sighed and walked on, heading for the wharfinger’s office. Maybe one day she would find herself in a position to help the poor and downtrodden, but now the need to find work was uppermost in her mind. And she did not trust the man who called himself Raven.
Essie heaved the boat across the stony foreshore and secured it to an iron ring above the high-water mark. She had just returned from taking a junior dock official to Limehouse Hole Pier, a job too small to be considered worthwhile by the watermen, but there had been a degree of urgency from Saul Hoskins, who was afraid he might face the sack if he was late for work yet again. Saul lived in Thomas’s Rents and Essie knew his young wife, Marie, who was the mother of twin girls and had recently given birth to a boy. If Saul lost his job the family would face an uncertain future and Essie had been only too glad to help, even if Saul could only afford to reward her with a penny for her efforts. Rowing fiercely against the tide was exhausting work, but she had got him to work on time.
It was a week since Raven, their mysterious lodger, had moved into Jacob’s room. Very little had changed in number seven White’s Rents, but Essie had to admit that Raven’s contribution to the housekeeping had made their lives easier. They had paid off the arrears on the rent and had eaten well every day, although Essie had kept some of the money aside, hiding it beneath a loose floorboard in her bedroom. Their lodger would move on soon, or so she hoped, but Jacob was not yet fit to return to the river and she would have to earn enough money to keep them both until he was strong enough to work. She was still curious and not a little worried about Raven’s activities, but he kept himself to himself and neither she nor her father had seen him to speak to since that first night.
Essie hitched up her damp skirts, wishing that she could wear breeches like the men, but it was difficult enough for a girl to find gainful employment, without shocking the male population and antagonising them. She had many acquaintances on the wharves and amongst the lightermen and watermen, but she knew that they tolerated her for her father’s sake, although he came in for a certain amount of criticism for allowing his daughter to take his place. She did not want to be an object of pity, but she was realistic enough to know her limitations when it came to physical strength. She had always thought of the turbulent River Thames as an entity in its own right, with a throbbing heart that would go on for ever: the river was to be respected, feared and never taken for granted. She climbed Duke Shore Stairs and had just reached the wharf when she spotted Ben, who was chatting to one of the crane operators. He broke off his conversation and hurried to meet her, dodging between piles of crates and coils of rope.
‘You’re looking very serious. Is anything wrong, Essie?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’
‘I’m sorry I haven’t managed to come round to see your pa, but we’ve been working day and night for the last week.’
‘That’s all right. Pa doesn’t feel up to having visitors.’
‘How is he doing? It’s going about that he might not walk again.’
‘Whoever is spreading such lies should mind their own business,’ Essie said sharply. ‘Pa’s improving every day. He’s moving about the house, although he can’t make the stairs yet, but he’ll be back to work soon.’
‘All right, don’t bite my head off. I was only asking.’
‘I’m sorry, Ben. I’m not having an easy time. It’s just hard to make a living with such a small boat. I’ve taken Saul to work again this morning, and he could only afford to give me a penny.’
‘If you’re short of money I might be able to help.’ Ben’s weather-beaten features creased into a worried frown. ‘You’ve only got to ask.’
‘Thank you, but we’ll manage.’ Essie glanced round, hoping to spot a likely customer. ‘Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be working?’
‘Engine trouble. These new-fangled steam engines break down too often. Sometimes I think we were better rowing the wherries, even if it was hard work.’
‘Will it take long to fix it?’
‘I dunno, but the guvnor told me to take the morning off, or what’s left of it.’ Ben gave her a searching look. ‘Have you eaten today?’
‘Not yet. I was hoping to find another job, but it looks a bit quiet.’
‘There’s a pie seller in Shoulder of Mutton Alley. Come on, Essie. I’ll treat you to a pork pie and a cup of coffee.’
It was an offer that was too good to refuse. Someone had eaten the last crust of bread and had scraped out what remained of the dripping. Essie had two suspects in mind, but her father was sound asleep on the sofa and there was no sound of movement from Raven’s bedroom. She had heard him come in at dawn, but she had given up trying to find out anything more about him, and so far his stay in their house had been uneventful. It was not his fault that the milk had gone off, although he was guilty for using the last of the tea. She would have to go shopping later, but that could wait.
‘That sounds wonderful.’ Essie linked arms with Ben. ‘I’m starving after all that rowing. The river is in a funny mood today, full of eddies and cross-currents. It’s behaving like a grumpy old man.’
Ben threw back
