Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch [39]
‘I came to London in 1957,’ said Mama Thames. ‘But I wasn’t a goddess then. I was just some stupid country girl with a name that I have forgotten, come to train as a nurse, but if I am honest I have to say I was not a very good nurse. I never liked to get too close to the sick people, and there were too many Igbo in my class. Because of those stupid patients I failed all my exams and they threw me out.’ Mama Thames kissed her teeth at the barefaced cheek of them. ‘Into the street, just like that. And then my beautiful Robert, who had been courting me for three years, says to me, “I can no longer wait for you to make up your mind, and I am going to marry a white bitch Irish woman.”’
She kissed her teeth again, and it was echoed around the room by all the other women.
‘I was so heartbroken,’ said Mama Thames, ‘that I went to kill myself. Oh, yes, that is how bad the man broke my heart. So I went to Hungerford Bridge to throw myself in the river. But that is a railway bridge, and the old footbridge that ran along the side – very dirty in those days. All sorts of things used to live on that bridge, tramps and trolls and goblins. It is not the sort of place a decent Nigerian girl wants to throw herself off. Who knows what might be watching? So I went to Waterloo Bridge, but by the time I got there it was sunset and everywhere I looked it was so beautiful that I thought I just cannot bring myself to jump. Then it was dark, so I went home for my dinner. The next morning I got up nice and early and caught a bus to Blackfriars Bridge. But there is that damn statue of Queen Victoria at the north end, and even if she is looking the other way, think how embarrassed you would be if she were to turn round and see you standing on the parapet.’
The rest of the room shook their heads in agreement.
‘There was no way on earth that I was going to throw myself off Southwark Bridge,’ said Mama Thames. ‘So after another long, long walk, where did I find myself?’
‘London Bridge?’
Mama Thames reached out and patted me on the knee. ‘This was the old bridge, the one that was sold soon afterwards to that nice American gentleman. Now there was a man who knows how to show a river a good time. Two barrels of Guinness and a crate of Rhum Barbancourt, that’s what I call an offering.’
There was a pause while Mama Thames sipped her tea. Beverley entered with a plate of custard creams and placed them within easy reach. I had a biscuit in my hand before I realised what I was doing, and put it back. Beverley snorted.
‘In the middle of the old London Bridge was a chapel, a shrine to St Birinus and I thought, good Sunday Christian that I was, that this would be the right place to jump off. I stood there looking west just as the tide began to turn. London was still a port back then, dying but like an old man with a long, exciting life, full of stories and memories. And terrified that he was going to be old and frail with no one to look after him because there was no life left in the river, no Orisa, no spirit, nothing to care for the old man. I heard the river call me by the name I have forgotten and it said, “We see you are in pain, we see you are weeping like a child because of one man.”
‘And I said, “Oh, River, I have come such a long way, but I have failed as a nurse and I have failed as a woman and this is why my man does not love me.”
‘And then the river said to me, “We can take the pain away, we can make you happy and give you many children and grandchildren. All the world will come to you and lay its gifts at your feet.”
‘Well,’ said Mama Thames, ‘this was a tempting offer so I asked, “What must I do? What do you want from me?” And the river answered, “We want nothing that you were not already willing to give.