For Want Of A Penny

September 1841 - Chapter One
Sarah Nightingale remained hidden behind the flapping sheets until she was sure her stepfather had slammed from the house. He would be off to the beer house taking a pocket full of pennies when they needed every one to pay the rent at the end of the month.
'Sarah, I'm going down the river with me mates, I ain't going in and have Ma bleating at me.' Alfie, her junior by a year, handed her his days wages. 'Would you put this away with the other for me? I reckon by Christmas I'll have enough to get myself a berth on one of them ships what go in and out of Harwich.'
'Ma won't like you going. She'll not let me find a position in one of the big houses, says she needs me to run the house while she's so poorly. I wouldn't mind, but she's going to need every penny now Pa's got no more regular work.'
Alfie scowled. 'If he laid off the beer there'd be more than enough put by. I ain't surprised Mr Hyam has given him the boot. Save me some food, I'll not be back until dark.'
Tommy, her little brother, appeared at the back door. 'Ma says she wants you, you're to come in.'
'I'll just be a minute, I need to get the rest of these sheets down before it rains.'
He grinned and vanished back inside. Although he was only her half brother, both she and Alfie loved him, he was the heart of the family, what kept the two sides together. She didn't mind that he was Ma's favourite, he was such a sunny tempered boy, you couldn't help loving him. When Ma was having one of her bad turns she and Alfie took care of him.
The last sheet carefully folded into the linen basket she picked it up and carried it inside. She'd do the ironing tonight after tea, when

Tommy was in bed and Ma rocking in her chair in the front room.
'Sarah, is that you?'
'I'm coming, Ma, sorry to have been so long.'
By the time she'd emptied the po down the privy in the backyard and made a pot of tea an hour had passed. Tommy was too quiet, the little rascal was up to something. He'd been playing happily in the backyard, building a house from a bucket of stones Alfie had brought him back from the river.
'Tommy, where are you? I hope you're not making mud pies out there?' There was no answer. She went to the back door expecting to see him up to mischief but the yard was empty, the side gate swinging open. Her heart lurched, he was only four, too small to be out on his own.
She should have kept an eye out for him, it was her fault he'd wandered off. He could have been gone twenty minutes or more, might be anywhere by now. She ran down the side passage and into East Stockwell Street, there were a few passers-by on the way back from the High Street, but no sign of Tommy.
Mrs Skipton, who lived three doors down was brushing the mud from in front of her cottage. 'You looking for your little'un, Sarah? I saw him run past from me bedroom window about fifteen minutes ago.'
'Thank you, I reckon he's followed Alfie. I was busy with my ma and he slipped out then. I didn't know he could undo the gate.'
Which way would he go? He liked the castle, he would turn right and go towards Ryegate Road, with luck he'd still be hanging on the railings when she got there.
*
Alfie met his two mates, Bert and George Sainty who lived next door, outside on the pavement. 'You two finished for the day?'
Bert, a bit older than him, already thirteen, George a year younger, but you would have thought the two of them twins. Both of them had hair like straw and muddy blue eyes, they were half a head shorter than

 him. Ma said he took after his own pa, he'd been a tall, dark haired, brown eyed man. He'd been drowned at sea, and Alfie scarcely remembered him now.
'We only got a couple of hours shifting stuff this morning, we've bin hanging around ages waiting for you. We're going down the river, it'll be high tide in a few hours, we might catch a couple of fish like what we did last time.'
'I ain't got my pole, so I'll have to watch. I ain't going back in, Ma will find me something else to do. Me sister never has a moment to herself.'
'Your ma badly again, Alfie?'
'Right poorly, and Jack Rand off down the beer house as usual. The sooner I'm out of that house the better, I can do more for me ma and Sarah working full-time.'
Chatting companionably to his mates, the swearing and carrying on he'd witnessed as he'd come home, began to fade from his mind. The sun was out, a nip in the air but warm enough for almost November. Soon he'd need to start wearing his heavy jacket, find his muffler and cap.
There were other fishermen by the river, some seated on old orange boxes, others standing. Still, there was plenty of room for all of them. 'The water's high this afternoon, I reckon you'll catch a couple.'
Leaving his friends to dangle their poles over the edge of the riverbank he wandered down a little way, loving the sound of the rushing water, the way it swirled and eddied around the reeds. This far from the sea the River Colne was narrower and almost salt free, the boys were fishing for carp, these didn't seem to mind if it were fresh water or salt. It was peaceful down here, away from the constant rowing at home, and the shouting and swearing down at the brewery on East Hill where he worked most days.
Idly he kicked a stone into the river watching the ripples it made on the surface. A childish shout behind him made him turn. As if in a nightmare he watched his little brother run towards him, miss his footing and tumble head long into the water.

He froze. Then he raced forward, screaming for help. He couldn't swim, the water was too deep to wade into. One of the fishermen dropped his rod and jumped into the water. Tommy had disappeared, one moment he'd been there, the next gone.
The second man joined the first and he watched helplessly from the bank as they dived repeatedly searching for his brother.
*
Sarah couldn't find Tommy by the castle, please God he hadn't gone down to the river. He knew Alfie went down there, he adored his big brother and would do anything to be with him. Her boots clattered on the cobbles as she ran down Ryegate Road and pounded across the meadow. She was almost there when a hideous scream made the hair on her arms stand up. It was Alfie, she was sure it was. She turned on to the narrow path that led alongside the river to see him standing on the riverbank watching two men swim towards him something towed beside them.
Alfie's britches were soaked, his boots oozing river water, tears running down his face. 'He fell in. I didn't know he was down here, I heard him call, turned round and he were gone.' He sobbed and shook his head covering her with water. 'He vanished, one minute he was there the
next nothing …' His voice cracked, he clutched her hand; they pressed together as the body was fetched to them. 'It's my fault, I must have left the gate open, should have paid more attention.'
This was her fault, not Alfie's, her inattention had allowed Tommy to run off. He would still be alive if it wasn't for her.
'My God, this will finish Ma, she'll not get over such a loss. Pa will never forgive either of us, Alfie, what are we going to do?' She clutched his arms, her face twisted with grief.
'I can't go back, not even for Ma; he'll kill me, he's just been waiting for an excuse. Tell me ma I'm sorry.'
'Don't go; don't leave me to tell them on my own. Alfie, please, stay and help me through this.'

Fenella J Miller