Fallen Women

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Eventually, a price was agreed for the funerary garb and Mrs Plant went on her way, saying she’d enjoyed the visit. She thanked the young women for their help and was still laughing as she left the shop.

  Ann explained to the others, who had questioned the noise they’d heard coming from upstairs.

  ‘Sure, we all thought yer were drinkin’ up there,’ Mary said with a grin.

  ‘I thought yer was only doin’ wedding frocks!’ Patsy said.

  ‘The poor lady was in dire need, and as could be seen by her clothing, she would not have been able to afford to shop at Broadhouse’s,’ Ann rejoined, as the Misses Broadhouse with their quirky ways came to mind. ‘Besides, it was another order, and Mrs Plant will recommend us to her friends and neighbours.’

  ‘I have to say, I like that new wedding gown you’re working on,’ Ella said.

  ‘It’s so much easier now my arm is on the mend and out of the sling,’ Ann smiled, deliberately saying nothing about the dress being for herself. She prayed silently she would get the chance to wear it before too long. Then, turning to Maisie, she said, ‘If you are going out with Inspector Towers this evening, we’d best get the pans of water on for your bath.’

  Maisie followed Ann to the back kitchen with a nod.

  Setting pots of water to heat, Ann’s smile broadened. Her friend had found someone who liked her for herself and made no mind as to her previous employment. Please God, let it work out for them both.

  Her thoughts returned to the wedding dress she was making for herself and again she wondered if she would ever walk down the aisle in it. Ann determined she would work on it between orders and ultimately it would be completed. She knew Richard would love it as much as she, if and when he saw it. The design had just come to her one day and Ann knew it had to be for herself, and not knowing if it would ever be worn, she had filled her spare time constructing it regardless. Thought of her beloved brought her to realise she had not seen him as yet today, but she felt sure he would visit later.

  Filling the tin bath Maisie had brought in, Ann left her friend to bathe. Going back to the fitting room, Ann decided to make a start on Mrs Plant’s black dress. Ann’s smile returned as she recalled the woman laughing heartily. People dealt with loss in many different ways and clearly this was Mrs Plant’s way of coping with the death of her life partner. The woman’s strength of character had shone through the sadness that was tearing her apart.

  Ann set to work, determined that Mrs Plant would have the best widow’s weeds in the town.

  *

  Victoria Beckett was extremely pleased with herself as she rushed away from the family home. She had robbed her father of his money and stolen her mother’s jewellery. Feeling it would have come to her anyway, she felt no remorse at her callous actions. Now she just had to sell her loot. Heading for the railway station, Victoria thought Birmingham would probably give her the best price.

  Purchasing a first-class ticket, Victoria boarded the great iron train which was puffing out clouds of steam as it stood at the station platform. It had never occurred to her to buy a third-class ticket in order to conserve her money.

  Taking a seat, she settled herself down as the train pulled away and Victoria wondered how long it would take her father to discover his money was missing. Would he check for other items that she had pilfered? Who would he blame? Was it the maid who would bear the brunt of his anger?

  Victoria smiled inwardly. The real question was whether Iris would accept the consequences of keeping her mouth shut or would she incriminate Victoria with her father? Whatever the outcome, Victoria cared little. There was no proof – at least there wouldn’t be once she’d sold the jewellery.

  With a satisfied smirk, Victoria looked out of the window to enjoy her journey to Birmingham.

  Thirty-Seven

  Richard and Ann sat together in the living room at the drapery. ‘Where is everyone?’

  ‘Maisie is out with Inspector Towers, and the others have gone to the Bell to see Gladys and Len.’

  ‘So we are alone at last – for a little while anyway. Ann, I must return to the Shire to ensure all is well with my tenant farmers.’ He saw Ann’s smile fade as he continued, ‘The weather is on the turn too, so it will be difficult to travel once the winter sets in.’

  ‘I understand. I realise you need to be home before then,’ Ann tried to force a smile.

  ‘Ann, I must ask you again before I go – please marry me. Make me the happiest of men,’ Richard drew in a breath in anticipation of her answer.

  Watching him now, Ann knew she had made up her mind. She smiled as he shuffled on his seat; he was desperate to know what she had decided.

  ‘Yes, Richard, I will marry you!’

  Richard plucked her from her seat and swung her around in his excitement. The room echoed with their laughter. Then, placing her gently back on her feet, he asked, ‘When? Will it be soon?’

  ‘Next spring would be a lovely time for a wedding, don’t you think?’ Ann laughed as her mind slipped again to the gown she was making for herself. She would get to wear it after all.

  Sitting by the fire, they began to discuss their plans. Where to marry? Wednesbury or Shropshire? Where to live once wed? Would Richard expect Ann to join him in the wilds of the countryside?

  Ann was adamant she wanted to continue to work making her gowns; Richard explained he needed to maintain his ties with Shrewsbury being a viscount.

  Long into the evening they talked, trying to envision what life together would be like.

  ‘I rather like the idea of being Mrs Wyndham,’ Ann said dreamily.

  ‘You will become a viscountess, my dear, and so will be addressed as Lady Wyndham,’ Richard corrected.

  ‘Oh my! It all sounds rather grand,’ Ann felt pangs of nerves. ‘Will I have duties to perform?’

  ‘No,’ Richard laughed, ‘but should we decide to live in on my estate in the north of Shropshire, you could expand your business there. However, how you will find the time, I have no idea.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘You’ll be busy taking care of our hordes of children!’

  They were still laughing when Jack and Maisie walked in.

  The news of the engagement was shared and congratulations given. Maisie was especially delighted as this was all she had ever wanted for her friend; to be married, loved and safely taken care of.

  Jack, who had been quiet for a while, sat pondering whilst the others chatted. So Ann was to be wed and would probably move away from her home town. How would Maisie feel about that? Would she consider going back to her previous employment? Or would she continue the business Ann had started?

  An image of Maisie in a wedding gown flashed before his eyes and he wondered. Would she marry him if he asked? How would she feel about being asked after only stepping out that one time? It’s true they had got on like a house on fire – but marriage? There was no doubt in his mind that he would be delighted to have Maisie as his wife. Should he bite the bullet and ask her – here and now?

  Shuffling uncomfortably on his seat, he drew in a deep breath and plunged in. ‘Maybe we could make it a double wedding.’ Looking at the girl he had just taken out for the first time, he saw her eyes and mouth widen in shock. ‘It’s not the most romantic of proposals, I grant you, but I’d be good to you, Maisie. I don’t ’ave much, but what I do ’ave is yours. So, what do you say, Miss Bancroft, will you do me the honour?’

  Ann and Richard exchanged a look of complete shock and then their eyes turned to the young woman whose eyes were like saucers.

  Maisie, in a split second, weighed up her options. Stay here as a dressmaker with Ann who could possibly be moving on in the springtime anyway. Or marry Jack Towers who didn’t care a jot that she’d once been a prostitute; this could be her opportunity to wed, the only chance she could have of becoming a wife and possibly a mother.

  With a grin, Maisie answered, ‘I suppose I could. I’m sure I’ll find none better.’

&n
bsp; Jack grinned and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and they all burst out laughing.

  *

  Victoria Beckett alighted from the train in Wednesbury after her overnight journey to Birmingham. She was extremely pleased with herself, having sold her mother’s jewellery at the Abyssinian Gold Company. The sale had afforded her a huge amount of money, now nestled deep in her drawstring bag.

  As she walked through the town, her mind on her money, she was surprised to feel a hand on her shoulder. Spinning around at the effrontery, she was faced with a constable. She was unaware that every policeman in the town was on the lookout for her, and that this young man had seen her walk from the station.

  ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Victoria rasped.

  ‘Miss Beckett, I’d like you to come along with me to the station,’ the policeman answered.

  ‘For what reason, may I ask?’

  ‘The inspector would like you to answer some questions, miss.’ Cupping her elbow, the constable was clearly in no mood to argue.

  Shaking off his hand, Victoria growled, ‘I see. Be assured I can walk unaided, thank you!’

  Victoria’s mind worked quickly as she strode towards the police station, very closely followed by the young policeman.

  On arrival, she was shown into the inspector’s office.

  ‘Ah, Miss Beckett, thank you for coming,’ Jack said from behind his desk.

  ‘I didn’t appear to have a choice,’ Victoria spat.

  ‘Please take a seat.’ Then, to the constable, Jack said, ‘Would you ask Constable Phillips to join us?’

  With a nod, the policeman retreated into the big room and a moment later Phillips entered, clutching pencil and notebook.

  ‘Now, Miss Beckett, I understand you visited the family home very recently – is that correct?’ Jack watched the girl closely.

  ‘Yes, I went to see my mother.’ Victoria’s answer was flat and unresponsive. She had determined to deny any knowledge of her mother’s demise.

  ‘And how was she – your mother?’ Jack probed.

  ‘She was well, as always,’ Victoria gave no outward signs of panic despite the feeling building inside her.

  ‘What was your reason for the visit?’ Jack saw Constable Phillips making notes as they spoke.

  ‘I – I went to ask for some money,’ Victoria answered tentatively.

  ‘I see, and did you get any?’

  ‘No.’ Victoria shook her head.

  ‘How long were you there?’ Jack’s ulcer burned but he ignored it.

  ‘Not long. When mother refused to help me financially, I left.’ Victoria made a show of glancing at her hands twisting the gloves in her lap.

  ‘Did anyone see you on that visit?’

  ‘Yes, Iris, the maid. She let me in.’ Victoria looked up at the man questioning her.

  ‘Did Iris see you leave?’

  ‘No, she was about her work in the kitchen,’ Victoria said warily.

  ‘Miss Beckett, are you aware your mother is dead?’ Jack spoke bluntly as he leaned forward in his chair.

  ‘No. Oh my goodness!’ Victoria’s tears sprang quickly to her eyes.

  Inspector Towers nodded at the girl’s apparent shock. He knew she was lying, but he had to prove it and so the questions went on.

  ‘Yes, she was buried the day before yesterday. I’m surprised you weren’t in attendance.’ Jack was pushing hard in the hope Victoria would trip herself up.

  ‘How could I be if I didn’t know?’ Victoria’s temper flared.

  ‘Indeed. I had your father in here yesterday reporting some of his money as stolen. I suppose you know nothing about that either!’ Jack spat the words.

  Victoria merely shook her head, her tears already having disappeared.

  Leaning back in his chair, Jack studied the young woman sitting facing him and he thought over the conversation thus far. If Victoria knew nothing of her mother’s death then wouldn’t she want to know how it happened? Surely there would be more of a reaction to the news than a few forced tears, for he was sure that was what they were. She should be bereft; she should be desperate to comfort her grieving father – but she was not.

  ‘What did you say to the maid, Miss Beckett? Did you threaten her?’ Jack’s words shot across the desk.

  ‘No! Why would I do that?’ Now Victoria’s temper was steaming. ‘Inspector, what is all this about? Why have I been hauled in here?’

  So, the maid had spoken to the police after all. How else would they know she had been threatened? Something to deal with later – for now she had to concentrate hard in order that she make no mistakes in her answers.

  ‘Hardly hauled, Miss Beckett, asked to attend more like.’ Jack gave a sickly smile. He was baiting her in the hope she would lose her cool demeanour, and it appeared to be working.

  ‘Answer my question! Why am I here?’ Victoria exploded.

  ‘Do you have any of your mother’s jewellery?’ Jack asked.

  ‘No!’ Victoria snapped.

  Jack nodded slowly.

  ‘You see, Miss Beckett, jewellery was stolen, along with the money, and the only person in the house – besides the cook and the maid – was you.’

  ‘Are you accusing me of—’ Victoria began.

  ‘I’m not accusing you of anything, Miss Beckett, let me make that quite clear,’ Jack interrupted. He nodded to Constable Phillips to ensure that was noted.

  Victoria harrumphed and went back to twisting her gloves.

  Jack smiled.

  ‘Don’t you want to know how your mother died? You don’t appear overly interested in the poor woman’s passing.’ Then, raising his voice for emphasis, Jack yelled, ‘She was murdered!’

  Victoria raised an eyebrow and said quietly, ‘You don’t have to shout, I’m not deaf.’

  Jack was aghast at the girl’s callousness.

  ‘Let me tell you something, Inspector. My mother was a grasping, spiteful woman. She refused to aid me when my dictatorial father threw me out onto the street! She would have seen me in the workhouse without lifting a finger to help. So, she’s dead – good riddance is what I say!’

  Jack and Constable Phillips exchanged a shocked glance at the outburst.

  ‘I care little that my mother has passed from this world, Inspector. So, if there’s nothing further, I will be on my way.’ Victoria stood and pulled on her gloves.

  ‘Thank you for your time, Miss Beckett,’ Jack said. He scowled as he watched her leave his office.

  ‘Do you think she did it?’ Phillips asked a moment later.

  ‘No – I bloody know she did it!’ Jack spat. ‘We have the testimony of Iris the maid saying she overheard a scuffle, but she didn’t see Mrs Beckett die. She found the body some while after Victoria had left the house. She may have had the reason of wanting the inheritance too, but you can’t jail a person for having a motive. Therefore, without proof, we have to rely on confession and that girl ain’t giving anything up!’

  Alone again in his office, Jack thought back to the previous day.

  William Beckett had come to the station to report a theft and Jack and Phillips had accompanied him back to the house. He had interviewed Iris the maid, who admitted to allowing Victoria into the house against the master’s express orders. Iris had clearly been afraid of Victoria and even more so after that last visit.

  Her told me to keep me gob shut! Iris’s words rang again in Jack’s mind. It was his reckoning that Victoria had indeed stolen the money and jewellery, scaring the maid witless into the bargain.

  Rubbing his abdomen, Jack frowned. Victoria Beckett had been very clever. Supposition led him to believe she had murdered her mother and stolen from the family home. Now she had beaten his questioning of her. There had to be a way of proving her guilt. A quick thought flashed behind his eyes. If she had the jewellery she wouldn’t hold on to it, for it was money she needed, not baubles.

  ‘Phillips!’ Jack yelled. As Constable Phillips’ head popped round the door, he added, �
��We need to check the pawn shops and jewellers. It may be Miss Beckett has rid herself of the jewellery that way.’

  *

  Victoria stepped smartly from the police station. She was in a foul mood, her elation about selling the gems had been swallowed up by Inspector Towers’ questions. Her mind moved to that infernal maid, Iris, and her mood blackened further. That girl had ignored the warning given to her and flapped her lips to the police.

  Hailing a cabbie, Victoria thought it might be time to teach Iris a lesson in obedience.

  Thirty-Eight

  The winter began to take hold of Wednesbury early and the hoar frost greeted the people as they rose from their beds one cold morning. Everywhere, the frost twinkled as daylight pushed the darkness aside. Streams of smoke puffed from domestic chimneys as residents lit their fires in order to heat their meagre homes. Early risers shivered on their way to places of work, all the while grumbling about the lazy wind which cut to the bone.

  Ella and Eve cooked a hot breakfast for everyone and Ann brewed an enormous pot of tea.

  ‘Sure, it’s cold enough to freeze the pawnbroker’s brass balls!’ Mary muttered, watching Patsy light the fire in the large living room.

  ‘It’ll soon warm up now,’ Patsy answered, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘We should make sure the bedroom fires burn low all day, so I’ll keep an eye on them.’

  Mary nodded and went to the kitchen to set the table where they would all sit to enjoy bacon and eggs before their working day began.

  Although the news of the impending weddings had been shared, the girls were too cold as yet to show much enthusiasm.

  After a hearty breakfast Maisie asked, ‘Ann, will you design my dress?’

  ‘Of course, I’d be delighted. There will be more than enough time to make gowns for us both before spring.’

  Slowly as the food helped to warm them, the girls’ chatter centred on marriage.

  ‘Who will give you away, Ann?’ Eve asked.

  ‘I know it’s not tradition or usual, but I wondered if you would stand in, Maisie,’ Ann asked.

  ‘Oh, Ann, I’d love to!’ Maisie was overcome with emotion at being asked to walk her friend down the aisle.