Prologue
Limehouse, East End, London
Elijah covered his ears, his eyes squinting shut against the latest battle between his parents.
His father came home only once a week for a couple of days.
Each time he walked through the door, Eli experienced a short-lived joy as his Pa tossed him in the air and caught him in a fierce hug.
But harsh words and the inevitable argument always followed.
It had grown worse lately. Spats about money, food, where Pa spent his time.
Smack! The sound of a hand connecting with flesh sent Elijah from his bed, peeking through a slightly cracked door while his heart pounded furiously. His father was rubbing his cheek, those dark eyes narrowed as his mother took a step back.
“I could beat ye fer that,” Pa snarled, moving one booted foot forward.
“Then I’ll die by your hand or from hunger.
I’d prefer the quicker death if you don’t mind.
” But Ma took another step back, fear brightening her hazel eyes.
She coughed, the gurgling sound echoing through the small space.
“There’s something smoky about your absences, Tom. Where do you go when you leave us?”
“Always ringin’ a peal, Alice. Why should I come home at all to a hellcat? Ye used to meet me with kisses.” His father sat down heavily on one of the three chairs. The only other furniture they owned was a bed and a small table that wobbled.
“That’s when I thought you loved me.” Ma’s confidence returned, hands going to her hips. Wheat-colored strands stuck out from her mobcap. “No more Banbury tales. What is going on?”
Da sighed. A terrible, forlorn sound. “I can’t afford ye no more. I ain’t got the blunt to keep ye here.”
“You can’t afford…” Ma seemed temporarily dumbfounded. “I’m your wife, Tom, not some laced mutton.”
“A doxie would be cheaper.”
She flew at him then, a high-pitched scream rending the air. He stood and caught her fists mid swing, easily holding her arms above her head. His mother began kicking at Da’s legs, trying to wrestle from his hold. Pa bent and said something in her ear, and Ma froze.
“But you’re my husband,” she choked out as another spasm of coughs racked her body.
“Not accordin’ to the law. I already had a family when we met, and I can’t keep paying fer two.” He let go of her, and Eli watched as his mother fumbled for the chair to hold herself up.
What did that mean? Pa didn’t want them anymore? Could he do that?
“Why did you marry me?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Ye’d sprained yer ankle and came to me all hysterical. What was I s’posed to do?”
Ma shook her head. “Of course I was hysterical. I was pregnant and unwed.”
“So, I wed ye. Problem solved till now.”
Eli blinked back the tears. His father had another family. They must be better because he spent more time with them. If only he’d known Pa had other children, Eli would have tried harder to be the favorite. He wouldn’t have eaten so much.
“Did you ever love me?” His mother’s voice sounded so weak. Like Eli’s when he didn’t feel good.
“I can take the boy with me,” his father continued, ignoring her question. “He’s fit, so I can find him a position somewhere. I’ll check on him regular-like and make sure he’s bein’ treated proper. Ye’ll ‘ave to go back to yer family.”
Eli’s stomach twisted. Ma had another family too? Would she leave him with his father? The question bounced around his brain, and he rubbed his temples against the onslaught.
Ma shook her head. “I can’t go back. Not now…” Eli’s heart cracked when his mother let out a wrenching sob. “Mama was right. I’ve been such a gull.”
“The rent’s paid till the end o’ the week. Ye got till Saturday to figure it out.” He swiped a hand through his dark curls. “Am I takin’ the lad or no?”
“Elijah is mine, you scapegrace. He’s all I have. I could never let him go.” Ma began crying in earnest now, her face hidden in her arms, forehead against the scarred oak table.
His father hovered over her, his hand almost touching her head, then pulling back. Tears ran down Eli’s cheeks as he watched his father’s retreat. The door slammed with a shuddering thump.
Eli silently padded up to his mother, wiping his wet cheeks with the bottom of his nightshirt. He had to fix this. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered soothingly, rubbing her back. Her narrow shoulders shook, then more coughing.
She wiped her reddened eyes with her sleeves. “I know it will, my sweet boy. Did you hear everything?”
He nodded, then threw his arms around his mother. “I love you, Ma. I’ll take care of you.”
Ma managed a snort and held him close. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
“You should go rest now, Ma.” He pulled on her hand, and when she rose, he led her back to the bed. “I can work like Pa did. I could be a street sweeper, maybe.”
After she lay down, she patted the thin mattress. “Come lie with me, Eli. We’ll stay warmer curled up together.”
With his mother’s arms around him, and her words repeating softly in his head—I could never let him go—he drifted back to sleep. Ma loved him. Everything would work out.
Five days later, Eli and his mother left the only home he’d ever known.
They had one small bag his mother tied around her waist and hid beneath her thin coat.
All the clothes they owned had been layered over their bodies to help fight the chill weather.
“If the culls think I’m with child, we might be safer,” Ma said as she took his hand and they stepped into the moist, cold fog.
“Where are we going, Ma?” he asked, pulling up the rough wool collar of his threadbare coat.
“To the devil, I fear,” mumbled his mother. Her coughing had grown worse. There were deep purple bruises under her eyes, and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent.
“It would be warmer,” quipped Eli, giggling at his own joke. But his humor hadn’t brought the usual chuckle from Ma. Her eyes were darting about the street as the sun set.
His mother squatted before him, holding both his thin arms with a surprisingly strong grip.
“No matter what happens to me, Elijah, I will make sure you are taken care of.” Then she hugged him tightly, and he could hear the rattle in her chest. Panic poked at his belly.
The landlady’s husband had sounded like that when he was taken to hospital and never came back.
When she stood, Eli slipped his hand into hers again, wishing they both had gloves. That night, they found shelter between some barrels in an alley. It was behind a tavern, and a tiny thread of light spilled out onto the slick cobblestones.
Eli snuggled against his mother, and she wrapped her cloak around him, leaning her cheek against his head. “Only for this one night,” she whispered as he fell asleep to her rhythmic rasp. “Then we’ll have a proper bed.”
In the morning, the tavern owner chased them off. Once again, they wandered the streets of Limehouse.
“Ma, you don’t look so good. We should find a new place to live.” Eli knew the sheen on her face, especially in the cold air, must mean a fever. Her body would shake sometimes, and she’d grip his fingers really hard.
“There,” she pointed. “The Dog’s Bone. We’ll go in there.”
He smiled at the name. It reminded him of the funny wiry-haired dog that lived with the landlady. The place was warm and crowded, and Eli could smell something cooking. He sucked in a deep breath, and his mouth watered.
Ma found a corner in the back of the large room. When she sat down, pulling Eli onto her lap, they were hidden by the oak table in front of them. The noise of the laughing patrons droned in his ear, and soon, he was asleep.
“Wake up!”
Eli woke with a start when someone shook him. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, peering up at the pretty woman with a round face. He stretched, his hand hitting something soft behind him.
“Ma,” he cried, jerking around. “I didn’t mean to—” Eli stared at the empty eyes of his mother. She was pale and still, her vacant hazel orbs staring at something beyond him.
“No!” He rubbed her cheek with his palm. “No, Ma. Wake up.” Eli squeezed her shoulders and rocked her back and forth until her head thumped against the wall.
The nice lady tried to pull him away. He threw his arms around Ma, shaking his head. “She’s only sleeping. She’s so tired. We’ll be okay.”
A larger set of hands wrapped around his waist and picked him up, pushing his face against something hard, covered in wool. When the hard thing spoke, Eli realized it was a man.
“Let’s get you to another room, boyo,” said the deep voice. “We’ll let da doctor care for yer mother.”
The giant man set him in a chair in front of the hearth. There was a large black pot hanging over a fire. The stranger scooped a ladle of something into a wooden bowl and set it in front of Eli. “Eat and get yer belly full so we can talk.”
Eli looked toward the back of the room. He couldn’t see the corner anymore where his mother lay. His stomach growled. “I have to get Ma something to eat. She made me eat her share. Then she’ll get better.”
“The most important thing ye can do for yer mother right now is eat. If ye get sick too, she’ll be all the more worried.” The man patted Eli’s head. “Go on, boyo. It’s a good venison stew.”
Another growl of his stomach convinced Eli the man was right.
Gripping the spoon with his fist, he made short work of the feast. Then he looked up at his new friend.
He had red cheeks and hair, but his eyes were very blue.
His hands were gigantic, his body even bigger, but it was the smile that beckoned to Eli.
He smiled back at this strange-speaking person. “Are you a foreigner?” he asked. Pa had talked about foreigners from faraway places that came through the docks. They all talked differently from Londoners.
“In a sense, aye,” said the man. “Name’s Paddy O’Brien. Who do I have da pleasure of speakin’ with and how old are ye?” He held out a great paw.