Fallen Women

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘Thank you, sir, I think we have everything we need, so we’ll bid you good day and – we’re very sorry for yer loss.’ Jack shook his hand and, with Constable Phillips trailing behind, he strode from the room.

  *

  After rushing away from The Beeches, Victoria Beckett had returned to her room in the dingy hotel. Counting out the money she had stolen, she was more than satisfied; there was enough to keep her fed and housed for a while.

  Sitting on her, bed she had suddenly realised what she’d done. She had committed matricide – she had killed her own mother!

  Well, she deserved everything she got!

  Victoria felt no remorse for the terrible death she had dealt her mother. In her opinion, the woman was a simpering nonentity. In servitude to her bullying husband, she’d had no backbone, never standing up to his dictatorial authority. Victoria vowed she would never become as her mother had been. She would fight for her rights and not bow to anyone, especially her father.

  That man was still living at The Beeches, and for the house and monies to come to her she needed to be rid of him too. But how? Disposing of her mother had been easy; however, her father was a different kettle of fish altogether.

  Physically fighting him was out of the question for he had a man’s strength, so how could she get rid of her father?

  Lying down on her bed, she’d stared at the cracked ceiling as her mind searched for a way to become mistress of The Beeches.

  Victoria stayed in her room, only venturing out to eat. She had no notion that the police were on her trail for suspicion of murdering her mother.

  It was so simple to take another’s life, all one had to do was find the right time and place. Having done it once, Victoria had no qualms about doing it again, in fact she quite relished the idea of killing the man she called father. And her pulse quickened as she thought of Ann Felton – now that one’s death would be an absolute pleasure!

  *

  Over the days her husband had been in jail, Rachel Unwin had suffered at the hands of others. Her house had been pelted with rotten eggs and jeers and catcalls had followed her when she ventured out to shop.

  Wrapping a shawl around her head, she set out once again; she was going to find the woman she had brawled with in the street.

  Although Rachel had no idea where the woman was, she determined the best place to start looking was the Bell Inn. Hurrying along the streets, she kept her head low, her eyes firmly on the cobblestones beneath her feet.

  As she walked, she wondered if she could do it. Never in her life had she set foot in a public house and she didn’t know what to expect. Would the landlord think her to be just another street-walker? Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat as she considered it could well come to pass if she couldn’t find herself a job.

  Thinking again about the letter she’d received from her husband’s employer, Rachel fought hard to stem her tears.

  Under the circumstances… The words came back to her as she walked. Mr Unwin’s employment is terminated.

  Knowing it would come to pass, Rachel had nevertheless been shocked at the clinical way Peter had been dismissed. She could understand it, of course, after all the man she’d married was a murderer. The thought made her shiver; she’d had no notion of what he’d been up to and still there were times she could hardly believe it.

  Stopping outside the Bell Inn, Rachel faltered. She couldn’t go in. What would she say if she found that woman again? Would she be ridiculed about Peter being the killer the police had caught red-handed?

  Rachel lifted her head and glanced from side to side; the street was empty. Then she looked at the door to the inn. Shaking her head, she turned to walk away just as the door opened and out stepped the very person she was seeking.

  ‘Well now, look who it is,’ Patsy Somerton said quietly.

  ‘I’ve come…’ Rachel’s words came on a croak, then her held back tears fell unchecked.

  ‘Here now, I d’aint mean to upset yer like that,’ Patsy said, laying her hand gently on the other woman’s arm.

  Rachel sniffed. ‘I’ve come to apologise to you. I wasn’t sure where to look, so I came here.’

  ‘Look, yer can’t be weeping all over Len’s step, come inside ’cos I think yer need a drink to steady yer nerves.’

  Rachel shook her head, the fear showing clearly in her eyes.

  ‘Mrs Unwin, it’s just a pub. A room like any other and there ain’t anybody in there at the minute.’ Patsy cupped the elbow of the frightened woman and led her inside.

  Len Pritchard saw the two women enter the snug and his eyes widened. ‘I don’t want no trouble in ’ere.’

  ‘Aww shut up, Len, and give this lady a drink,’ Patsy scolded.

  Passing over a small measure of brandy, he held out a hand for payment. Tutting loudly, Patsy dropped the money into it and watched his fingers curl around the coins. Then he disappeared. A moment later he was back with Gladys and Mary.

  The three watched in silence as Patsy encouraged the weeping woman to sip her drink. Doing as she was bid, Rachel coughed as the fiery liquid slipped down her throat. She felt it warming as it went down and found she liked the sensation. Lifting the small glass, she swallowed the rest in one go, coughing and spluttering as an amazed Patsy took the glass from her fingers.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Rachel smiled her thanks.

  ‘Now then, p’raps you’d best tell me what’s going on,’ Patsy smiled back.

  Rachel glanced around at the faces watching her. ‘I’m very sorry my husband…’ she spat the word, ‘took the life of yer friend. I swear to God I knew nothing about it until the police came knocking.’

  Patsy and Mary exchanged a glance before Rachel went on.

  ‘Dear Lord, I’m so very sorry for yer loss.’

  ‘It can’t be easy fer you now he’s in jail, to be sure,’ Mary said, coming to sit at the table.

  ‘It ain’t, I’ve got to find some work now there’s no money coming in,’ Rachel sighed.

  ‘Lost his job then,’ Gladys said, more by way of a statement than question. She walked around the bar to join them at the table.

  Rachel nodded. ‘It’s impossible to find work – nobody wants to know me. It ain’t my fault Peter did what he did!’

  ‘Don’t get agitated,’ Patsy said calmly, ‘we know that as well as you, but folk hereabouts – well, let’s just say it will take a long time to forget.’

  ‘I wish they’d hurry up and lock the bugger up!’ Rachel’s words surprised everyone, including herself. ‘The inspector said he’d be taken to Stafford Gaol, then he’d be tried and convicted. He asked if I wanted to visit before they shifted him.’

  ‘Did you go?’ Patsy asked.

  ‘No, I bloody didn’t! I hope he rots in hell fer what he’s done. Always readin’ his Bible, he were. Holier than thou, eh? Well, he won’t be going upstairs to heaven now, will he? He’ll burn in the fires of hell fer all eternity – and rightly so!’ Rachel suddenly felt better for her outburst.

  ‘Sure, what will you do now?’ Mary asked. Despite her husband having killed her friend, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the woman.

  ‘I don’t know, although I’d thought to move away. I have a sister who lives in Devon – by the sea – maybe I could go there. Anyhow, I had to come and make my peace with you ladies first.’

  It was not lost on the little congregation that Rachel Unwin had called them ladies.

  ‘It’s probably fer the best if you do go to yer sister. It would be a fresh start for yer,’ Patsy said gently, not wishing to upset the woman again.

  ‘Thank you,’ Rachel said as she stood to leave, ‘for yer understanding and the drink. Happen I might take up drinking now ’cos I rather enjoyed it.’ With a wan smile, Mrs Unwin left the inn.

  ‘Well, that were a turn-up fer the books and no mistake,’ Patsy said. All nodded their agreement that it was indeed a surprise.

  ‘I’ve got to go and tell our Annie about this,’ Pa
tsy said, getting to her feet.

  ‘Good idea, gel, and you, Len, can find summat to do!’ Gladys said sharply.

  They parted company, each with a smile at Gladys’s words.

  Thirty-Four

  ‘I couldn’t stay away, Ann,’ Richard said as he looked at the beautiful face he’d missed so much in the short time they had been apart.

  Walking back to Maisie’s, they had stopped briefly for Richard to stable his horse with the local smithy. Now sat with tea in hand, he looked at the girl he loved to distraction.

  ‘How is business?’ he asked.

  ‘Doing very well,’ Ann answered, her dark eyes twinkling with obvious delight at seeing him again. ‘The orders are mounting up. We have a bridal gown and two bridesmaid’s dresses to make as well as a mother of the bride and a pageboy outfit, but fortunately there is plenty of time to complete them.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ Richard said with a smile.

  ‘The problem is, ladies have to come here for fitting, and I feel it is unfair on Maisie – this is her home after all,’ Ann confided as she glanced at her friend.

  ‘Hmm,’ Richard nodded, ‘I may have a solution, if you girls are interested.’ He turned to Maisie, who he guessed was about to protest Ann’s worries. ‘The shop, as you know, has many rooms, so why not move your business to there? In fact, you could both move in with the Hall sisters, I’m sure they would love it. Unless of course you want to stay where you are living at present. Patsy and Mary could even join you if they so wished.’

  ‘Oh Richard! That would make life so much easier. What do you think, Maisie?’ Ann asked as she looked at her friend.

  ‘I ain’t sure, Ann, all of us women under one roof – it smacks of trouble if you ask me. Working together is one thing, but living together…’ Maisie shook her head.

  ‘Rent free so you’d be better off in the long run,’ Richard added encouragingly.

  ‘Ar well, in that case, I’m willing to give it a go.’ Maisie’s grin was infectious and then the laughter erupted as she said, ‘Oi’ll be glad to be away from “Lecherous Len”, so I will!’ in her imitation of Irish Mary.

  Deciding to call on Ella and Eve first to see how they would feel about the arrangement, Richard said they could close the shop early and all could then visit Mary at the inn.

  They were about to leave the house as Patsy arrived. Sauntering along the street, Ann told her of Richard’s suggestion and Patsy was delighted with the idea.

  Ella and Eve considered it to be an excellent notion when Richard explained what had been discussed.

  Locking the shop, the little group set off for the Bell, all chattering excitedly about the turn of events.

  ‘I wonder if Mary will agree. She may wish to stay where she is,’ Ann remarked to Richard walking beside her.

  ‘At least she will have the choice,’ he answered with a smile.

  Walking a little way behind the others, Ann felt his eyes on her and she blushed.

  ‘You know why I returned, Ann. I came back for you,’ Richard whispered.

  Ann glanced up at him and she nodded. Her heart leapt to think he couldn’t bear to be parted from her.

  ‘You also know, no matter how many times you send me away, I will return. I will continue to pop up like the proverbial bad penny.’ Richard’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

  Ann grinned. ‘I do believe you would.’

  ‘Oh, I will, be assured. I will not stop pestering you until you agree to become my wife.’ He shrugged his shoulders as they strolled along.

  Ann sighed contentedly. She loved this man with her heart and soul and every moment away from him was torture. How long could she go on refusing his proposal? She knew he would not wait forever so she had to make up her mind, and quickly.

  Reaching the Bell, the girls fell in and were greeted by a very surprised Len. ‘Oh, hey up, our Annie and Mr Wyndham an’ all. Nice to see yer all,’ he chuckled.

  In less than a moment, Len’s booming laughter had Gladys rushing through, Mary hot on her heels.

  The next couple of hours were spent telling each other of Mrs Unwin’s visit as well as Richard’s idea for the shop.

  Ann watched the indecision flit over Mary’s face as the girls became more excited at all being together again. She guessed Mary was thinking how good the Pritchards had been to her, firstly giving her a job and then a room above the inn. If she moved out, it would mean Gladys would have to find a replacement.

  ‘Gladys,’ Ann ventured, ‘if Mary came with us that would leave you without help once more.’

  ‘Ar, I’d ’ave to find somebody else ’cos that lazy bugger wouldn’t ’elp me,’ Gladys retorted as she tilted her head in Len’s direction.

  ‘What about Mrs Unwin? I’m sure she’d jump at the chance of moving away from her unkind neighbours and, as was said earlier, she’s looking for work.’ Ann saw the relief flood Mary’s face at having found the solution to her dilemma.

  ‘What! Have a murderer’s wife living here!’ Len gasped.

  ‘There’ll be murder done ’ere if you don’t shut yer yap!’ Gladys shot back. ‘Mary wench, go in the back and fetch them old newspapers.’

  With a puzzled frown, Mary did as she was bid. Then everyone watched as Gladys shuffled through them.

  ‘Here it is. That poor woman’s address. I knew I’d seen it somewhere. At least we know where ’er lives. Question now is – who’s gonna ask her?’ Len shook his head and Gladys laughed. ‘You got that right, matey – it ain’t gonna be you!’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Patsy volunteered, ‘after all, it were me she was lookin’ for earlier.’

  So, it was agreed, Mary would move to the shop with the others and Patsy would visit Rachel Unwin with the offer of a job and a room at the Bell.

  *

  Victoria Beckett was unaware of the planned upheaval of the girls moving to the shop. She was desperately trying to figure out a way of depriving her father of not only his money – but also of his life!

  Visiting the bank was out of the question, for the teller had been instructed to escort her from the premises should she set foot in there again. Besides, there would be too many witnesses.

  At The Beeches there was Mrs Newton, the cook, who hardly ever ventured out of her beloved kitchen, along with Iris, the maid. Victoria briefly wondered if that girl had told the police of her visit to her mother. No, Iris would be too scared to inform on Miss Victoria. She would be living in fear of losing her own life, which Victoria felt would keep the girl close-mouthed about the whole thing. Besides, it couldn’t be proved Ariadne had died at the hands of her daughter. But the maid, if she had half a brain, would know it was no accident.

  So where did that leave Victoria? No further forward that she could fathom. Slapping her hands on the bed in frustration, she grumbled low in her throat. There had to be a way!

  Her thoughts then turned to Ann Felton. Maybe it would be easier to go after that girl first. There again, how could she do it? She could hardly waylay the girl on her way to the shop; it was certain they would be seen.

  Victoria’s frustration and anger mounted as she lay on her bed. No matter how she thought about it, there was no way to rid herself of the two people she saw as preventing her getting what she wanted. She needed her father’s money as well as his house, and she needed Felton out of the way if she was to become Lady Wyndham.

  With fire in her veins, Victoria scrambled off her bed. Snatching up her bag, she strode from the room. Outside the hotel, she pulled on her gloves and with head held high she stamped out her fury on the cobblestones.

  *

  In the snug at the Bell, Ella said, ‘We’d best get a move on and open the shop.’

  Patsy roused herself and left to visit Mrs Unwin.

  ‘If I may be so bold – the time might be better spent readying the rooms for Ann and the others moving in,’ Richard said.

  ‘Fair enough,’ Eve agreed, ‘but, Ann, you can’t be doing much w
ith that arm as it is.’

  ‘I have to do something to help,’ Ann said, not wanting to leave all the work to the others.

  ‘All right, you can mek the tea and a meal ’cos we’ll be clammed by the time we’m finished,’ Ella laughed.

  Seeing Richard’s puzzled look, Ann explained, ‘Hungry – they will be ready for a good dinner.’

  Laughing together, they set off for an afternoon of hard work in the shop. Mary said she would join them later as she and Gladys would be busy in the kitchen for a while yet.

  As they trooped back to the shop once more, Ann thought about their good fortune brought about by the man at her side. He was kind and thoughtful and he cared for her friends, that much was evident. She knew she could be so very happy being married to Richard, but would his family, friends and business colleagues frown on his choice of wife? She was only a seamstress, which was a lowly profession, but it was good honest work. If they married, would he expect her to quit working altogether? She could not, in all honesty, see herself being a lady of the manor, and moving to Shropshire as would be expected would tear her away from her dear friends. She found herself on the horns of a dilemma, not knowing which way to turn.

  Richard had been chatting away to her as they walked, but Ann had heard little of what he said. Now, as they entered the shop, she moved directly to the kitchen. Needing to keep busy, she bustled about making tea but was finding it difficult with her arm still in its sling.

  ‘Ann, let me,’ Richard said as he saw her struggling. Wrapping his jacket around the back of a wooden chair, he rolled up his shirt sleeves.

  Ann watched as he peeled potatoes, chopped vegetables and pushed a dressed chicken into the range. She smiled as he presented her with a cup of tea before calling the girls for theirs.

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s reasty up there,’ Ella said, brushing the dust from her clothes.

  ‘Yes, but it’s almost done now,’ Eve added. ‘Another hour should see it habitable.’

  It wasn’t long before Patsy was banging on the door for admittance. She had brought four meat and potato pies which they shared as it would be a while before the meal was ready.