Liza of Lambeth

Chapter 11

A few days afterwards Liza was talking with Sally, who did not seem

very much happier than when Liza had last seen her.

''E ain't wot I thought 'e wos,' she said. 'I don't mind sayin' thet;

but 'e 'as a lot ter put up with; I expect I'm rather tryin'

sometimes, an' 'e means well. P'raps 'e'll be kinder like when the

biby's born.'

'Cheer up, old gal,' answered Liza, who had seen something of the

lives of many married couples; 'it won't seem so bad after yer gets

used to it; it's a bit disappointin' at fust, but yer gits not ter

mind it.'

After a little Sally said she must go and see about her husband's tea.

She said good-bye, and then rather awkwardly:

'Say, Liza, tike care of yerself!'

'Tike care of meself--why?' asked Liza, in surprise.

'Yer know wot I mean.'

'Na, I'm darned if I do.'

'Thet there Mrs. Blakeston, she's lookin' aht for you.'

'Mrs. Blakeston!' Liza was startled.

'Yus; she says she's goin' ter give you somethin' if she can git 'old

on yer. I should advise yer ter tike care.'

'Me?' said Liza.

Sally looked away, so as not to see the other's face.

'She says as 'ow yer've been messin' abaht with 'er old man.'

Liza didn't say anything, and Sally, repeating her good-bye, slid off.

Liza felt a chill run through her. She had several times noticed a

scowl and a look of anger on Mrs. Blakeston's face, and she had avoided

her as much as possible; but she had no idea that the woman meant to

do anything to her. She was very frightened, a cold sweat broke out

over her face. If Mrs. Blakeston got hold of her she would be helpless,

she was so small and weak, while the other was strong and muscular.

Liza wondered what she would do if she did catch her.

That night she told Jim, and tried to make a joke of it.

'I say, Jim, your missus--she says she's goin' ter give me socks if

she catches me.'

'My missus! 'Ow d'yer know?'

'She's been tellin' people in the street.'

'Go' lumme,' said Jim, furious, 'if she dares ter touch a 'air of your

'ead, swop me dicky I'll give 'er sich a 'idin' as she never 'ad

before! By God, give me the chanst, an' I would let 'er 'ave it; I'm

bloomin' well sick of 'er sulks!' He clenched his fist as he spoke.

Liza was a coward. She could not help thinking of her enemy's threat;

it got on her nerves, and she hardly dared go out for fear of meeting

her; she would look nervously in front of her, quickly turning round

if she saw in the distance anyone resembling Mrs. Blakeston. She

dreamed of her at night; she saw the big, powerful form, the heavy,

frowning face, and the curiously braided brown hair; and she would

wake up with a cry and find herself bathed in sweat.

It was the Saturday afternoon following this, a chill November day,

with the roads sloshy, and a grey, comfortless sky that made one's

spirits sink. It was about three o'clock, and Liza was coming home

from work; she got into Vere Street, and was walking quickly towards

her house when she saw Mrs. Blakeston coming towards her. Her heart

gave a great jump. Turning, she walked rapidly in the direction she

had come; with a screw round of her eyes she saw that she was being

followed, and therefore went straight out of Vere Street. She went

right round, meaning to get into the street from the other end and,

unobserved, slip into her house, which was then quite close; but she

dared not risk it immediately for fear Mrs. Blakeston should still be

there; so she waited about for half an hour. It seemed an age.

Finally, taking her courage in both hands, she turned the corner and

entered Vere Street. She nearly ran into the arms of Mrs. Blakeston,

who was standing close to the public-house door.

Liza gave a little cry, and the woman said, with a sneer:

'Yer didn't expect ter see me, did yer?'

Liza did not answer, but tried to walk past her. Mrs. Blakeston stepped

forward and blocked her way.

'Yer seem ter be in a mighty fine 'urry,' she said.

'Yus, I've got ter git 'ome,' said Liza, again trying to pass.

'But supposin' I don't let yer?' remarked Mrs. Blakeston, preventing

her from moving.

'Why don't yer leave me alone?' Liza said. 'I ain't interferin' with

you!'

'Not interferin' with me, aren't yer? I like thet!'

'Let me go by,' said Liza. 'I don't want ter talk ter you.'

'Na, I know thet,' said the other; 'but I want ter talk ter you, an' I

shan't let yer go until I've said wot I wants ter sy.'

Liza looked round for help. At the beginning of the altercation the

loafers about the public-house had looked up with interest, and

gradually gathered round in a little circle. Passers-by had joined in,

and a number of other people in the street, seeing the crowd, added

themselves to it to see what was going on. Liza saw that all eyes were

fixed on her, the men amused and excited, the women unsympathetic,

rather virtuously indignant. Liza wanted to ask for help, but there

were so many people, and they all seemed so much against her, that she

had not the courage to. So, having surveyed the crowd, she turned her

eyes to Mrs. Blakeston, and stood in front of her, trembling a little,

and very white.

'Na, 'e ain't there,' said Mrs. Blakeston, sneeringly, 'so yer needn't

look for 'im.'

'I dunno wot yer mean,' answered Liza, 'an' I want ter go awy. I ain't

done nothin' ter you.'

'Not done nothin' ter me?' furiously repeated the woman. 'I'll tell

yer wot yer've done ter me--you've robbed me of my 'usbind, you 'ave.

I never 'ad a word with my 'usbind until you took 'im from me. An' now

it's all you with 'im. 'E's got no time for 'is wife an' family--it's

all you. An' 'is money, too. I never git a penny of it; if it weren't

for the little bit I 'ad saved up in the siving-bank, me an' my

children 'ud be starvin' now! An' all through you!' She shook her fist

at her.

'I never 'ad any money from anyone.'

'Don' talk ter me; I know yer did. Yer dirty b***h! You oughter be

ishimed of yourself tikin' a married man from 'is family, an' 'im old

enough ter be yer father.'

'She's right there!' said one or two of the onlooking women. 'There

can't be no good in 'er if she tikes somebody else's 'usbind.'

'I'll give it yer!' proceeded Mrs. Blakeston, getting more hot and

excited, brandishing her fist, and speaking in a loud voice, hoarse

with rage. 'Oh, I've been tryin' ter git 'old on yer this four weeks.

Why, you're a prostitute--that's wot you are!'

'I'm not!' answered Liza indignantly.

'Yus, you are,' repeated Mrs. Blakeston, advancing menacingly, so that

Liza shrank back. 'An' wot's more, 'e treats yer like one. I know 'oo

give yer thet black eye; thet shows what 'e thinks of yer! An' serve

yer bloomin' well right if 'e'd give yer one in both eyes!'

Mrs. Blakeston stood close in front of her, her heavy jaw protruded and

the frown of her eyebrows dark and stern. For a moment she stood

silent, contemplating Liza, while the surrounders looked on in

breathless interest.

'Yer dirty little b***h, you!' she said at last. 'Tike that!' and with

her open hand she gave her a sharp smack on the cheek.

Liza started back with a cry and put her hand up to her face.

'An' tike thet!' added Mrs. Blakeston, repeating the blow. Then,

gathering up the spittle in her mouth, she spat in Liza's face.

Liza sprang on her, and with her hands spread out like claws buried

her nails in the woman's face and drew them down her cheeks. Mrs.

Blakeston caught hold of her hair with both hands and tugged at it as

hard as she could. But they were immediately separated.

''Ere, 'old 'ard!' said some of the men. 'Fight it aht fair and

square. Don't go scratchin' and maulin' like thet.'

'I'll fight 'er, I don't mind!' shouted Mrs. Blakeston, tucking up her

sleeves and savagely glaring at her opponent.

Liza stood in front of her, pale and trembling; as she looked at her

enemy, and saw the long red marks of her nails, with blood coming from

one or two of them, she shrank back.

'I don't want ter fight,' she said hoarsely.

'Na, I don't suppose yer do,' hissed the other, 'but yer'll damn well

'ave ter!'

'She's ever so much bigger than me; I've got no chanst,' added Liza

tearfully.

'You should 'ave thought of thet before. Come on!' and with these

words Mrs. Blakeston rushed upon her. She hit her with both fists one

after the other. Liza did not try to guard herself, but imitating the

woman's motion, hit out with her own fists; and for a minute or two

they continued thus, raining blows on one another with the same

windmill motion of the arms. But Liza could not stand against the

other woman's weight; the blows came down heavy and rapid all over her

face and head. She put up her hands to cover her face and turned her

head away, while Mrs. Blakeston kept on hitting mercilessly.

'Time!' shouted some of the men--'Time!' and Mrs. Blakeston stopped to

rest herself.

'It don't seem 'ardly fair to set them two on tergether. Liza's got no

chanst against a big woman like thet,' said a man among the crowd.

'Well, it's er' own fault,' answered a woman; 'she didn't oughter mess

about with 'er 'usbind.'

'Well, I don't think it's right,' added another man. 'She's gettin' it

too much.'

'An' serve 'er right too!' said one of the women. 'She deserves all

she gets an' a damn sight more inter the bargain.'

'Quite right,' put in a third; 'a woman's got no right ter tike

someone's 'usbind from 'er. An' if she does she's bloomin' lucky if

she gits off with a 'idin'--thet's wot I think.'

'So do I. But I wouldn't 'ave thought it of Liza. I never thought she

was a wrong 'un.'

'Pretty specimen she is!' said a little dark woman, who looked like a

Jewess. 'If she messed abaht with my old man, I'd stick 'er--I swear I

would!'

'Now she's been carryin' on with one, she'll try an' git others--you

see if she don't.'

'She'd better not come round my 'ouse; I'll soon give 'er wot for.'

Meanwhile Liza was standing at one corner of the ring, trembling all

over and crying bitterly. One of her eyes was bunged up, and her hair,

all dishevelled, was hanging down over her face. Two young fellows,

who had constituted themselves her seconds, were standing in front of

her, offering rather ironical comfort. One of them had taken the

bottom corners of her apron and was fanning her with it, while the

other was showing her how to stand and hold her arms.

'You stand up to 'er, Liza,' he was saying; 'there ain't no good

funkin' it, you'll simply get it all the worse. You 'it 'er back. Give

'er one on the boko, like this--see; yer must show a bit of pluck, yer

know.'

Liza tried to check her sobs.

'Yus, 'it 'er 'ard, that's wot yer've got ter do,' said the other.

'An' if yer find she's gettin' the better on yer, you close on 'er and

catch 'old of 'er 'air and scratch 'er.'

'You've marked 'er with yer nails, Liza. By gosh, you did fly on her

when she spat at yer! thet's the way ter do the job!'

Then turning to his fellow, he said:

'D'yer remember thet fight as old Mother Cregg 'ad with another woman

in the street last year?'

'Na,' he answered, 'I never saw thet.'

'It was a cawker; an' the cops come in and took 'em both off ter

quod.'

Liza wished the policemen would come and take her off; she would

willingly have gone to prison to escape the fiend in front of her; but

no help came.

'Time's up!' shouted the referee. 'Fire away!'

'Tike care of the cops!' shouted a man.

'There's no fear abaht them,' answered somebody else. 'They always

keeps out of the way when there's anythin' goin' on.'

'Fire away!'

Mrs. Blakeston attacked Liza madly; but the girl stood up bravely, and

as well as she could gave back the blows she received. The spectators

grew tremendously excited.

'Got 'im again!' they shouted. 'Give it 'er, Liza, thet's a good

'un!--'it 'er 'ard!'

'Two ter one on the old 'un!' shouted a sporting gentleman; but Liza

found no backers.

'Ain't she standin' up well now she's roused?' cried someone.

'Oh, she's got some pluck in 'er, she 'as!'

'Thet's a knock-aht!' they shouted as Mrs. Blakeston brought her fist

down on to Liza's nose; the girl staggered back, and blood began to

flow. Then, losing all fear, mad with rage, she made a rush on her

enemy, and rained down blows all over her nose and eyes and mouth. The

woman recoiled at the sudden violence of the onslaught, and the men

cried:

'By God, the little 'un's gettin' the best of it!'

But quickly recovering herself the woman closed with Liza, and dug her

nails into her flesh. Liza caught hold of her hair and pulled with all

her might, and turning her teeth on Mrs. Blakeston tried to bite her.

And thus for a minute they swayed about, scratching, tearing, biting,

sweat and blood pouring down their faces, and their eyes fixed on one

another, bloodshot and full of rage. The audience shouted and cheered

and clapped their hands.

'Wot the 'ell's up 'ere?'

'I sy, look there,' said some of the women in a whisper. 'It's the

'usbind!'

He stood on tiptoe and looked over the crowd.

'My Gawd,' he said, 'it's Liza!'

Then roughly pushing the people aside, he made his way through the

crowd into the centre, and thrusting himself between the two women,

tore them apart. He turned furiously on his wife.

'By Gawd, I'll give yer somethin' for this!'

And for a moment they all three stood silently looking at one another.

Another man had been attracted by the crowd, and he, too, pushed his

way through.

'Come 'ome, Liza,' he said.

'Tom!'

He took hold of her arm, and led her through the people, who gave way

to let her pass. They walked silently through the street, Tom very

grave, Liza weeping bitterly.

'Oh, Tom,' she sobbed after a while, 'I couldn't 'elp it!' Then, when

her tears permitted, 'I did love 'im so!'

When they got to the door she plaintively said: 'Come in,' and he

followed her to her room. Here she sank on to a chair, and gave

herself up to her tears.

Tom wetted the end of a towel and began wiping her face, grimy with

blood and tears. She let him do it, just moaning amid her sobs:

'You are good ter me, Tom.'

'Cheer up, old gal,' he said kindly, 'it's all over now.'

After a while the excess of crying brought its cessation. She drank

some water, and then taking up a broken handglass she looked at

herself, saying:

'I am a sight!' and proceeded to wind up her hair. 'You 'ave been good

ter me, Tom,' she repeated, her voice still broken with sobs; and as

he sat down beside her she took his hand.

'Na, I ain't,' he answered; 'it's only wot anybody 'ud 'ave done.'

'Yer know, Tom,' she said, after a little silence, 'I'm so sorry I

spoke cross like when I met yer in the street; you ain't spoke ter me

since.'

'Oh, thet's all over now, old lidy, we needn't think of thet.'

'Oh, but I 'ave treated yer bad. I'm a regular wrong 'un, I am.'

He pressed her hand without speaking.

'I say, Tom,' she began, after another pause. 'Did yer know

thet--well, you know--before ter-day?'

He blushed as he answered:

'Yus.'

She spoke very sadly and slowly.

'I thought yer did; yer seemed so cut up like when I used to meet yer.

Yer did love me then, Tom, didn't yer?'

'I do now, dearie,' he answered.

'Ah, it's too lite now,' she sighed.

'D'yer know, Liza,' he said, 'I just abaht kicked the life aht of a

feller 'cause 'e said you was messin' abaht with--with 'im.'

'An' yer knew I was?'

'Yus--but I wasn't goin' ter 'ave anyone say it before me.'

'They've all rounded on me except you, Tom. I'd 'ave done better if

I'd tiken you when you arst me; I shouldn't be where I am now, if I

'ad.'

'Well, won't yer now? Won't yer 'ave me now?'

'Me? After wot's 'appened?'

'Oh, I don't mind abaht thet. Thet don't matter ter me if you'll marry

me. I fair can't live without yer, Liza--won't yer?'

She groaned.

'Na, I can't, Tom, it wouldn't be right.'

'Why, not, if I don't mind?'

'Tom,' she said, looking down, almost whispering, 'I'm like that--you

know!'

'Wot d'yer mean?'

She could scarcely utter the words--

'I think I'm in the family wy.'

He paused a moment; then spoke again.

'Well--I don't mind, if yer'll only marry me.'

'Na, I can't, Tom,' she said, bursting into tears; 'I can't, but you

are so good ter me; I'd do anythin' ter mike it up ter you.'

She put her arms round his neck and slid on to his knees.

'Yer know, Tom, I couldn't marry yer now; but anythin' else--if yer

wants me ter do anythin' else, I'll do it if it'll mike you 'appy.'

He did not understand, but only said:

'You're a good gal, Liza,' and bending down he kissed her gravely on

the forehead.

Then with a sigh he lifted her down, and getting up left her alone.

For a while she sat where he left her, but as she thought of all she

had gone through her loneliness and misery overcame her, the tears

welled forth, and throwing herself on the bed she buried her face in

the pillows.