like her. No, she wasn’t being critical. Just curious.
He said, ‘I have some ideas that might make the market hall better, just small things, but they would improve the Malvern in certain ways.’
‘Do you want to tell me about them?’ she asked, now smiling, more like herself.
He shook his head. ‘No. I haven’t quite worked them out properly.’
‘I understand,’ Esther said. ‘Keep thinking.’
The hansom came to a halt at the corner of the street where Matthew Falconer and his family lived, just off the main Hampstead Road in Camden.
The driver of the cab jumped down from his seat, opened the carriage door, and helped Esther to alight, with James following his grandmother. He and the driver pulled out canvas bags while Esther opened her purse to pay the driver. She did this once the bags were at the front door and thanked him. Small children watched curiously from across the street.
He tipped his cap, thanked her back, and thought to add, ‘Nice young ’un yer ’ave there, missus.’ He grinned and went back to the carriage, whistling away.
James was searching for the key when the front door suddenly opened. Rossi stood there smiling, with little Eddie peeping out from behind her. ‘James and Grandma! I’m so glad you’re here.’ She opened the door wider and helped them to carry the bags inside.
The house was tall and narrow and not very big, but it did accommodate the family comfortably, and they liked it. There was a cosy, homely feeling about the large kitchen, a room which was the centre of the household.
It had a big open fireplace and an oven with a range, and a wide window looking out into the back garden. A long oak table stood under the window and it was here they had their meals.
Once the canvas bags were safely on the table, Esther hugged and kissed Rossi and Eddie, and said to James, ‘I’m just going to pop upstairs to see your mother, and then I’ll be back to heat the raspberry vinegar medicine.’
James nodded. ‘I’ll unpack the bags, and Rossi will help me.’
‘I want to help, too,’ Eddie said, and James smiled at him and said he could.
Esther hurried into the front hall and mounted the stairs leading to the main bedroom floor. As she climbed, she could hear Maude coughing, and was quite alarmed when she went into the bedroom and saw her daughter-in-law’s face. It was ashen and there were dark rings under her eyes. Her light brown hair, always so glossy and carefully arranged, was rumpled and unruly.
‘I’m here, Maude,’ Esther said, walking over to the bed, anxiety on the edge of her voice. ‘Would you like some hot soup or just the raspberry vinegar?’
Her daughter-in-law could do no wrong in Esther’s eyes. She had proved to be an adoring wife and mother, and the whole family was devoted to her. To Esther, Maude was the calmest person she had ever known. Maude kept a loving and peaceful household; angry words were unheard of and food was always on the table. The house was clean as a whistle and the children well cared for. Her son was a lucky man. So were her grandchildren.
Pulling up a chair, sitting down next to the bed, Esther leaned closer and said in a low voice, ‘Are you awake, Maude? I’ve brought soup, and my concoction.’
‘Just drowsing; the raspberry vinegar would help,’ Maude whispered, her voice hoarse. ‘Is Jimmy with you?’
‘He’s downstairs with Rossi and Eddie. He came to get me earlier. We had a bite of lunch; then we came straight here. I’ve brought plenty of food, so you mustn’t worry about Matthew and the children being fed. They’ll be all right.’
Maude looked up at her, the sparkle in her dark brown eyes dulled by her illness. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘It’s not the bubonic plague, you know, merely a chill and a sore throat. I’ll be up and about in a few days.’
‘When you’re better, and not until then. I’ll be back in a few minutes, love.’ Esther hurried downstairs.
When she returned to the kitchen, she noticed that the bottle of raspberry vinegar and the jar of chicken soup were on the oak table. Everything else had been put away in the pantry.
‘Is Mother very ill?’ James asked, his worry obvious.
‘No, it’s just one of those bad chills, and she’s a bit chesty. But she’ll be fine. You can go up and see her if you want, or better still, you can take the drink up to her. It’ll only take a moment to boil.’
As she spoke, Esther crossed the room, picked up the bottle, and was back swiftly. Standing over a pan on the oven top, she stirred the raspberry vinegar. To this she added sugar and a large piece of butter, which James had brought to her from the pantry.
‘Is that all it is?’ James asked, sounding surprised, glancing at his grandmother. ‘Just those things boiled together?’
‘More or less,’ Esther nodded. ‘But I prepare the vinegar in a special way and put a few herbs into it as well.’
‘What are they?’
‘That’s a secret.’ Esther winked at him and poured the concoction into a cup. ‘Here it is, my lad. You can take it up to your mother. She must sip it slowly. It’s a bit hot.’
James did as he was told, and when he entered his parents’ bedroom he saw at once how poorly his mother looked. Carrying the cup carefully, he put it down on the bedside table.
Hearing the slight noise, Maude opened her eyes, and a smile surfaced when she saw her eldest son. ‘There you are, Jimmy.’
‘Grans said you’re to sip this slowly,’ he explained, reaching for the cup. ‘Be careful, Mum. ‘It’s very hot.’
Maude now pushed herself up in bed and took the cup from him. ‘I don’t know why but this is always helpful, really a good remedy for me.’
‘I think Grans put something special in it, but she wouldn’t tell me what. She said it’s a secret.’
Maude peered at him over the rim of the cup. ‘That’s strange. Your grandmother usually tells you everything.’
James chuckled. He settled back in the chair, his eyes focused on his mother. Although she looked tired and sick, he remembered his grandmother’s words that it probably was only a chill, nothing more serious. Comforted by the thought, he relaxed.
It had been a slow day at the stalls, and Matthew decided to leave early on this warm June afternoon. The market’s owner, Henry Malvern, wasn’t visiting until the next day; concern about his wife made Matthew hasten his departure, and propelled him down the Hampstead main road.
He didn’t even take the barrow with him to bring back goods tomorrow. They had plenty of stock and he had locked it away in the shed with the sawhorses and planks.
The road was full of men who were leaving the market hall and others who worked in companies or factories nearby. The road was filled to overflowing,
