Fallen Women

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Picking up the newspaper delivered by a young ragamuffin, she shook her head at the sensationalism of the headline.

  Night Stalker Caught!

  Ann shivered again as she thought about the events of the previous night. Whilst the police were apprehending a murderer, she had been resting after facing a madwoman. Victoria Beckett had threatened to kill her; blaming Ann for everything that had befallen her. For all she had been in fear of losing her life, Ann couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl. Clearly Victoria had lost her mind and it was likely she would be incarcerated in the mental asylum.

  A knock to the door broke her thoughts and she exchanged a questioning look with Maisie. It was very early for callers.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Maisie said, ‘you get the kettle on.’

  A moment later, Ann was faced with Inspector Towers and Constable Phillips.

  ‘Sorry to call so early, Miss Felton, Miss Bancroft, but we’d like another statement if you don’t mind,’ Towers said as he took the seat indicated.

  Maisie went to the kitchen and made tea for them all. Nodding his thanks, Jack’s eyes lingered on the young woman passing the teacup.

  ‘Firstly, thank you for all the help you gave Philomena here…’ he tilted his head towards the blushing constable, ‘we caught the killer, as you can see from the newspaper.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ Ann said, ‘so how can we help you?’

  ‘Victoria Beckett. We need to know precisely what happened.’

  ‘Of course,’ Ann said. For the next hour, she related in as much detail as she could remember precisely what had occurred. How the woman was in the living room when Ann returned from the kitchen. That Victoria had blamed her for being thrown out of her home and that Ann had stolen the man she had set her heart on marrying. She told that after killing Ann, Victoria was hell-bent on doing the same to her parents. Then she asked, ‘What will become of her?’

  ‘Asylum would be my guess,’ Towers said, shaking his head. ‘Thank you, Miss Felton, we’ll leave you in peace now.’

  Once the policemen had left, Maisie and Ann talked quietly about the murderer and the fate of Victoria Beckett. Maisie wisely kept it to herself that the others had stood the corner with Constable Phillips.

  Richard arrived as Maisie was about to leave for a visit to the Bell Inn to see the owners and her friend Mary.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Richard asked Ann.

  ‘I’m fine now. I suppose you know the police have caught the murderer?’ Ann asked as she pointed to the newspaper.

  Richard nodded. ‘Ann, I have something I want to ask you.’

  Ann felt her heart leap. Was he about to propose marriage? If so, would she accept? She wanted to with every fibre of her being but still at the back of her mind was nagging doubt. She had wondered if Richard was about to propose previously when the constable had left on his mission, but he had not and she had been extremely disappointed. But then he was a lord and she… There was no way a marriage such as this could work.

  ‘Ann, please say you will marry me. I have never been as frightened in my life as I was these last days. I thought I could lose you!’

  ‘Richard, please try to understand…’ Ann began, trying to let him down easily.

  ‘Ann…’

  ‘No, Richard.’ Ann cut him off more sharply than she had intended. Then she went on more gently, ‘You have to see it cannot be. You are a lord, which, I hasten to add, you omitted to mention, and live so very far away, and I’m just a seamstress trying to set up a business.’

  ‘None of that matters,’ Richard pleaded.

  ‘But it does! Richard, you should be looking to find a wife befitting your status, and I should be concentrating on my work. I have to ensure the girls don’t go back to working the streets, so it’s imperative the business flourishes.’ Ann felt wretched when she saw the crestfallen look on his face, especially when all she wanted was to say yes. ‘Maybe it’s time you returned home. Think more on the matter and then you will see I’m right.’

  ‘Ann, please…!’ Richard was virtually begging now.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ was all Ann could say.

  ‘I see. So, there’s no way I can change your mind?’

  Ann shook her head, her eyes downcast.

  ‘Then I’d best leave you to your business!’ Richard walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. With tears in his eyes he walked back to the hotel. Lord Richard Wyndham was going home – to stay.

  The moment he left, Ann burst into tears. With all that had happened to her over the last few days and now having to refuse the marriage proposal, it was all too much for her. Ann sobbed like her heart would break.

  Once her tears had abated, Ann looked around her. Unable to sew because of her injured arm, she made a decision. She would join Maisie in the Bell. She needed her friends around her.

  *

  Having left Ann Felton’s, Inspector Towers and Constable Phillips returned to the police station. They needed to speak to Victoria Beckett now.

  Sitting in his office, he heard the yelling as the girl was brought in for interview.

  ‘Unhand me! How dare you touch me! Do you know who I am?’

  ‘Miss Beckett!’ Towers shouted. Then more sedately, ‘Please take a seat.’

  Victoria threw her escorts a scornful look and dropped onto the chair like a petulant child. ‘Why am I still here after two days? And why am I manacled like a convict?’ she snapped.

  ‘You are here because you attempted to harm Ann Felton with a knife,’ Towers said, wincing at the pain in his stomach.

  ‘I most certainly did not!’

  Towers raised his eyebrows. ‘You were disarmed by Mr…’ he looked at his constable to provide the name he searched for.

  ‘Lord Richard Wyndham, sir.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Towers nodded his thanks.

  ‘Yes, I know but—’ Victoria began.

  ‘Miss Beckett, please do not insult my intelligence. I have interviewed Miss Felton and I have all the details here.’ Jack Towers pointed to the notebook which lay on the corner of his desk in front of the constable.

  ‘No, you don’t understand! You see, Ann Felton has caused me no end of grief and I went to see her in an effort to discover why she has it in mind to ruin me!’ Victoria shouted.

  ‘That’s not how Miss Felton describes it,’ Jack said.

  ‘Well, she’s lying!’ Victoria banged her hands on the desk, making the constable jump.

  ‘Calm down, miss, and tell me what happened,’ Towers said.

  Victoria sighed audibly. ‘I went to see her. I wanted to know how she had influenced my parents to throw me out and why she got me dismissed from my job. She threatened me with the knife, but I managed to take it away from her. I was doing my best to stay away from her when Lord Wyndham came in and misinterpreted the situation.’ Victoria’s single nod denoted she had finished speaking.

  ‘I was also informed you tried to run Miss Felton down with your trap some time ago,’ Towers ran his tongue around his teeth as he stared at the girl in front of him.

  ‘No, no! She walked into the road and it was all I could do to avoid hitting her!’ Victoria was silently congratulating herself at the web of lies she was constructing.

  ‘Did you – or did you not – call Miss Felton a whore?’ Jack pursued his line of questioning.

  ‘I did,’ Victoria said, ‘but I believe that to have been an error on my part.’

  ‘Did you threaten to kill your parents?’ Jack went on.

  ‘Haven’t we all said such things in temper, Inspector? I love my parents, why would I want to kill them?’

  ‘They threw you out, remember?’

  ‘Ah, well, you see, they just wanted me to stand on my own two feet,’ Victoria gave a wan smile.

  Inspector Towers studied the girl as she glared back at him. Everything she had told him could be true; there was no actual proof of attempted murder. That said, one of these two women was lying and Jack
would stake his career on it being Victoria Beckett. However, without clear evidence, he could not, in all conscience, keep her at the station any longer, despite his thinking her deranged. He could not arrest her for being insane, after all.

  ‘If I let you leave, I need your word, Miss Beckett, that you will stay well away from Ann Felton,’ Towers said, staring directly into her tear glistened eyes.

  ‘Thank you, Inspector, I will – you have my promise,’ Victoria said aloud, but in her mind – In a pig’s eye!

  Towers watched the girl stand and once the handcuffs had been removed she rushed out of his office. Not even so much as a thank you!

  ‘Sir,’ Constable Phillips said quietly, ‘how can you let her go? She did it – she tried to kill Ann Felton!’

  ‘Show me the proof,’ Towers said with a huff. Then a little more calmly he added, ‘Look, I know how you feel because I feel the same – I know she’s guilty, but without concrete evidence I can’t do a damned thing! It’s Ann’s word against Victoria’s. Yes, I realise Lord Wyndham disarmed Victoria, but he didn’t see her attack Ann, which brings me back to the question of proof!’

  The constable nodded and as he left the office, Towers returned his thoughts to getting Peter Unwin before the court as soon as possible.

  An hour later, Jack Towers left the station and headed for St Bartholomew’s churchyard. Standing by a very recent grave, he said quietly, ‘You can rest easy now, Floss Darton. I promised you we would get the man who took your life and we have. He’ll hang for this or at least spend the rest of his life in jail. Sleep well until we meet in heaven – hopefully.’

  Turning away, Jack dashed a lone tear from his cheek. Floss didn’t deserve to die as she had, and it was then he realised how much he had come to like the women of Camp Street corner, especially Maisie Bancroft.

  With a smile now, he walked back to the police station and heard the ribald comments poor Constable Phillips was still having to endure. His smile turned to a grin as he thought how well the young policeman was dealing with the teasing from his colleagues. With each taunt, Philomena would mince across the room flinging back imaginary long locks and pursing his lips. He would keep them laughing for a long time to come. Perhaps now that the suspect had been apprehended and everyone was safe and well, they could enjoy the fun of it all.

  Thirty-One

  The sun could not chase the autumn chill from the air and Ann shivered as she walked through the soot laden streets. In the distance she heard the twittering of birds, then the scream of the steam train whistle. Pulling her shawl over her injured arm, she nodded to women she passed in the street.

  When Ann joined her friends in the Bell, they brought each other up to date with the incidents of the night before and of how the killer was apprehended. Sending Richard away was something Ann kept to herself.

  A moment later, the Hall sisters walked in – being Sunday they would not be opening the shop. Ann smiled; they were all together again – all except Floss. A sadness crept over Ann as she remembered her friend. The police have him, Floss, the man who took you from us. You can rest in peace now.

  Breaking her thoughts, Len piped up, ‘Will your young man be joining us then, Annie?’

  ‘No, he – he will be going home today,’ Ann said quietly, hoping she would not be probed as to why.

  The banter in the snug was lost on her as Ann thought about the only man she could ever love. Her heart sank as she realised she would probably never see him again. Then she wondered about the shop; how would he manage it from so far away? Would he sell it now in order to cut all ties to her? If so, would that mean the girls would be out of work and forced back onto the streets? Her business too would suffer without a shop to sell from, but her main worry was for her friends.

  Unable to join in the jovial mood in the bar, Ann stood to leave.

  ‘You ain’t goin’ am you, Annie?’ Gladys asked.

  ‘I must, Gladys, I have some work to finish.’

  ‘We should be off an’ all,’ Ella said.

  ‘Ar, we really ’ave to do the stocktake, not be sittin’ in ’ere drinkin’,’ Eve agreed.

  ‘I’m coming as well,’ Maisie added.

  With a goodbye wave, the four set off to their destinations.

  Once home, Ann stoked the fire and Maisie set the kettle to boil.

  ‘You’ve only gone an’ done it, ain’t you?’ Maisie asked.

  ‘Done what?’ Ann answered with a question of her own.

  ‘Yer’ve sent Richard packing?’

  Ann nodded. All that had occurred over the last few days had left her exhausted.

  Maisie made the tea, then sitting herself by the fire, she said, ‘I think you should tell me all about it.’

  *

  Whilst Ann was pouring out her woes to Maisie, Victoria Beckett walked through the town. Stopping only once to buy a kitchen knife, she continued up towards The Beeches. It was time to pay her mother and father another visit. Badly in need of funds now, Victoria sought to extract it from the woman who had given birth to her. Ariadne would cough up some money, otherwise she would be coughing up blood! Victoria had wasted enough time begging and pleading; now it was time to take action.

  Walking up Spring Head, Victoria muttered quietly to herself, occasionally patting her drawstring bag. Inside lay the kitchen knife and she assured herself it was still there with each little tap.

  ‘Ann Felton, you’ve done it now. I’m about to get into yet more trouble and it’s all your fault!’

  Ignoring the women who stared as she passed them, she pressed on. With each step, her temper mounted as she thought about the girl she saw as the cause of all her unhappiness. Coming to the gateway that led up the drive to her childhood home, Victoria stopped. Her mouth screwed up and she snorted through her nose as her breathing accelerated.

  ‘Right then, Mother, let’s see what you have to say for yourself today, shall we?’ The glint of madness shone in her eyes, then as quickly it was gone again.

  Strolling up the drive, to an onlooker, Victoria looked like a pretty young woman making a house call. At the front door, she smoothed her gloved hands down her long skirt before rapping on the knocker.

  After a moment, the maid answered and Victoria strode in full of confidence. ‘I am here to visit my mother.’

  ‘She’s in the parlour, ma’am,’ Iris answered as she closed the front door, then scurried back towards the kitchen. As a general rule, it was her job to announce guests to the mistress, but she could not face yet another confrontation between mother and daughter.

  Victoria threw open the parlour door and strode in. ‘Mother, how nice to see you!’ she said, shutting the door, before walking towards the woman who had surprise written all over her face.

  ‘Victoria,’ Ariadne gasped. ‘What are you doing here? You know what your father said about…’

  ‘Mama, I’ve come to assure myself that you are well, surely Father wouldn’t deny me that!’

  Sitting opposite her mother, Victoria took off her gloves and, folding them neatly, she placed them inside her bag. Being careful to leave the bag open in her lap, she forced a smile, which merely lifted the corners of her mouth.

  ‘So, how have you been keeping? Have you missed me?’

  Ariadne felt distinctly uncomfortable as she watched her daughter slowly unbutton the sleeves of her dress and roll them back a couple of inches.

  ‘It’s very warm today, don’t you think?’ Victoria saw the fear on Ariadne’s face and again she smiled.

  A knock came to the door and in trundled Iris with a tea tray. Laying it on a small table between the women, she bobbed her knee and fled the room.

  ‘What do you want, Victoria?’ Ariadne asked as she poured the tea for them both.

  With a huge sigh, her daughter answered. ‘Can’t a girl just come to visit without having a reason?’

  Ariadne flinched as Victoria leaned forward to take the proffered cup.

  She’s still afraid of me –
and so she should be!

  ‘My dear girl, you have always had a reason for everything you have ever done! Why would today be any different?’ Ariadne tried her best to bolster herself. She guessed why her daughter was here – she needed money. If she gave Victoria some cash, would she then leave peacefully and without causing a scene?

  ‘Why do you think so badly of me, Mama?’

  ‘You have given me cause to over the years.’ Ariadne was wishing her daughter would just ask for the money and leave.

  Sipping her tea, Victoria mused, ‘Yes, I suppose I have. Ah, well, that’s all water under the bridge now.’ She was enjoying watching her mother squirm. The tension in the room was so thick, Victoria could have cut it with her knife, but the only thing she wanted to do with that weapon was to slice out at the weak willed simpering woman in front of her. ‘If you don’t want me to give you more cause for unpleasantness, may I suggest you recompense me for the grief Father has heaped upon me.’ Victoria watched the fear spark again in her mother’s eyes and she smiled inwardly. ‘By the way, where is Father?’

  ‘Your father is at his club but will be home shortly. As for your troubles, you know full well that you brought this misery on yourself, Victoria. Your father and I had reached the point of no return. I warn you now, if you continue with your spiteful, childish ways you will be miserable for the rest of your life!’ Ariadne said with courage she wasn’t feeling.

  ‘And I warn you, Mother, if you don’t give me what I ask for you will regret it!’ Victoria’s temper was mounting again and she was unable to keep it in check. ‘Everything you have here,’ she swung her arm in an arc, ‘will one day come to me. So, why not let me have some of it now?’

  Ariadne saw the madness take hold of her only child and the fear swept over her. How could she not have noticed before this that her girl had slipped into insanity?

  ‘Very well, you leave me with no option,’ Ariadne said as she stood and stepped towards the fireplace, intent on using the bell pull to summon the maid.

  Victoria was on her feet in an instant and ran around her mother to push her back down into a chair. However, the push she gave was more of a shove and Ariadne stumbled. Losing her balance, she fell heavily; her temple crashing against the corner of the mantelpiece. She groaned as she lay on the floor, her hand coming to her head. Dazed, Ariadne tried to rise, but the room swam before her eyes. The dizziness resulted in a feeling of nausea and Ariadne dropped again to the floor. ‘Victoria – what…?’