The Pearly Queen by Mary Jane Staples Page A

trousers,’ said Mother Ruth.
    â€˜I grant yer, Mother Ruth, I ain’t far short of feelin’ uncomfortable about it,’ said Father Luke. ‘I’ve also got a hurtful bump on me head. But I’m bearin’ in mind the sufferin’ need these poor people ’ave for someone else’s trousers an’ Mother Joan’s skirt. Lord above, where’ve they all gone to?’
    The street on either side of the group was empty, except for a few kids. At the junction with Commercial Road stood two uniformed constables, surveying Christian Street and its suspicious air of quiet. Mother Verity rejoined her sister Repenters.
    â€˜You saw?’ she said. ‘What can I say?’
    â€˜We all suffered for you, sister,’ said Father Peter compassionately.
    â€˜I was a bit ’ arassed myself,’ said Father Luke, ‘but the glimpse I ’ad of your ordeal, Mother Verity, told me I was gettin’ off light. Father Peter, we’ve got wickedness goin’ on here all right. The Lord’s mercy’ll be ’ard for this lot to come by.’
    â€˜I’ve never seen such dreadful be’aviour,’ said Mother Mary, ‘and after yesterday too. Who’d ’ave thought Mother Verity would suffer again?’
    â€˜Scoundrel ought to be horse-whipped,’ said Mother Joan.
    â€˜Vengeance shall be mine, said the Lord,’ boomed Father Peter.
    The uniformed constables were still surveying the street, and this gave Mother Verity the courage to say, ‘Father Peter, something must be done for Father Luke and Mother Joan. They can’t possibly return to Bloomsbury as they are. I will go and demand the return of their lost garments.’
    â€˜Shall our own Daniel enter the lions’ den?’ asked Father Peter.
    â€˜I’d go meself,’ said Father Luke, ‘only I don’t feel properly dressed for the part.’
    â€˜I shall be quite happy to go,’ said Mother Verity.
    â€˜I will stay and comfort our flock,’ said Father Peter.
    â€˜I’ll go with Mother Verity,’ said Mother Mary. ‘It’s me Christian duty as ’er sister.’
    â€˜How kind,’ said Mother Verity. She drew her breath, squared her shoulders, and with Mother Mary she crossed the street and knocked on the open door of a certain house. An urchin girl appeared.
    â€˜What d’yer want, missus?’ she asked.
    â€˜Please see if the gentleman in a blue jersey and khaki trousers will come to the door,’ said Mother Verity bravely.
    â€˜Oh, not him ’imself,’ breathed Mother Mary, ‘he’ll drag you Lord knows where and – oh, think of what ’e might do, sister.’
    â€˜No, the policemen are at the top of the street, sister,’ said Mother Verity. She looked at the urchin girl. ‘Is the gentleman here, my child?’
    â€˜No, ’e ain’t, we don’t ’ave no gents livin’ round ’ere.’
    â€˜Hullo, hullo,’ said a welcoming voice, and the smiling man appeared. ‘Well, if it’s not me own sweet lady love again.’
    â€˜I beg you, sir, not to be importunate, but to consider penitence and the Lord’s forgiveness,’ said Mother Verity. ‘I am here to ask if you’ll be kind enough to arrange for a lady’s skirt and a gentleman’s trousers to be returned. I shall be happy to give you sixpence for them.’
    â€˜Well, that’s generous, love, I won’t deny it. All of a tanner?’
    â€˜If you’d be so kind, sir.’
    â€˜You’re a funny one, missus,’ said the man, Will Fletcher. But the light in his eyes was scathing.
    â€˜Miss, sir.’
    â€˜All one to me,’ he said, and Mother Mary thought his smile had something cynical about it. ‘All right, wait ’ere.’ Off he went, up the street, taking no notice of the watching constables. He turned into a house. He was back quite