Fallen Women

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘Please yerself. Go hungry then,’ came the reply before the officer walked away.

  Her temper settled somewhat now, Victoria was pondering her situation. She knew she would be up before the magistrate very soon, but the police had no actual evidence with which to convict her of the murder of her mother.

  Iris could be called as a witness, but she could tell them very little. The girl had not seen Victoria kill her mother or steal the jewellery and money. No, Iris was really no threat.

  Regarding her attempt to run Ann Felton down with her trap, Victoria had said the woman had stepped out in front of her, which could have happened. Then there was the night she had tried to attack Felton with a knife when Victoria had convinced the police she was the one being threatened. Of course, there was her attack on Iris, but what person in their right mind would take the word of a cook and a maid over that of a lady?

  So, all in all, Victoria thought she was home free. She could not possibly be sent to prison. An evil grin spread across her face as she realised that the following morning she would be released with an apology from the police.

  The next morning, however, Victoria Beckett was still incarcerated. Given a cup of tea and a bowl of porridge, she was then told she would be in court later. Having not eaten since the day before, she was hungry now, so she ate her breakfast.

  An hour or so later, a constable came to escort her to the carriage, where Inspector Towers was waiting for her.

  Ensconced in the cab, Victoria shook her head and spoke in clipped tones. ‘This is a waste of your time and mine! You have no evidence against me!’

  ‘That’s where you are wrong, Miss Beckett,’ Jack said with a knowing smile. ‘You see, we have your mother’s jewellery.’

  Victoria visibly paled. How could they have recovered it? She had taken it to Birmingham to sell, thinking it would have been sold on almost immediately. It was a silly mistake to make, but then there was no proof it was she who had sold it. Victoria relaxed a little, she was still in the clear.

  ‘Your father will also be in court,’ Jack said.

  ‘Whatever for? There was no need to disrupt his work. I am a grown woman and can take care of myself!’

  ‘I sent a constable to see him last night to inform him of your predicament. Mr Beckett agreed to be in attendance – for his daughter, of course. By the way, you don’t seem too surprised or happy that we have found your mother’s jewellery.’

  ‘Trinkets – hardly worth the effort,’ Victoria waved a dismissive hand.

  Jack grinned and Victoria began to feel uneasy again. What did he know that she didn’t? Their journey continued in silence.

  Half an hour later, the carriage stopped and Victoria was led into the court building. Shown to a seat before the bench, she glanced around. Her eyes met those of her father and she shuddered at the disappointment she saw there.

  The magistrate took his seat on the bench and the room fell silent.

  By the end of the morning, the magistrate had ruled that the case be passed to quarter sessions and then most likely would be sent to the assizes in the Victoria Law Courts in Birmingham. In the meantime, Miss Beckett was to be held at Stafford Gaol.

  Screaming her protests, Victoria was led from the court to be transported to Stafford.

  Inspector Towers agreed to inform her father of the upcoming court dates before returning to the station.

  Jack was pleased with the outcome of finally seeing Victoria Beckett behind bars where she belonged. The young woman had thought herself untouchable and had appeared to sail from one crime to the next on a wing and a prayer. He’d wondered about her sanity on a number of occasions, but she had made convincing arguments when questioned. Jack had known from the beginning that to get this girl put away he had to be very certain of his information and evidence. The last thing he needed was for her to be set free on some small technicality, but as it was – he and his small police force had got it right.

  He sighed with relief, then turned his mind to Maisie and the forthcoming wedding. He knew it had been a rash decision to propose when he did, but he was afraid of losing her.

  As the cab rumbled its way back to Wednesbury, Jack’s mind took him back further still. Raised in an orphanage, he knew what it was like to be alone and unhappy. He studied hard in his lessons and, on leaving the orphanage at last, he had joined the police force. He loved his job and had climbed the career ladder, becoming a sergeant. After some years, and following the death of his predecessor, he had risen to the rank of inspector. The position, however, was not conducive to having a wife and happy home life. The thought brought him once again to Maisie Bancroft. In the spring he would be a married man and would never again feel that soul destroying loneliness.

  He smiled as the cab arrived at the station – thank God Maisie had agreed to become Mrs Towers!

  Meanwhile, whilst the court case had been going on, Ann had said goodbye to Richard. She had fought valiantly to hold back her tears and, now in dire need of being cheered up, she decided to pay a visit to Len and Gladys. If nothing else, their banter could make her smile.

  Striding down the street, Ann felt the cold bite and she glanced up into the sky. Dark grey clouds rolled, holding the promise of rain. Hurrying onward, she pulled her shawl over her head, wanting to be indoors before the heavens opened. Feeling the first cold drops of rain, Ann ran down Camp Street, reaching the inn just as the downpour began.

  ‘Hey up, our Annie, looks like you brought the weather with you,’ Len said in greeting.

  ‘Fortunately I’ve just missed it,’ Ann said, trying to catch her breath from the short run.

  ‘You want a drink?’ Len asked.

  ‘Thank you, no, Len. I’ve just come for a visit.’

  ‘Righto, I’ll let the missus know you’m ’ere then,’ Len said over his shoulder as he made for the kitchen.

  Ann slipped off her shawl and coat, laying them on a nearby chair, and was rubbing her hands together as Gladys came bustling through.

  ‘Hello, lovey, it’s nice to see yer,’ the older woman said with a smile.

  ‘You too, Gladys, how are you keeping?’ Ann asked.

  ‘Same as always. Too much work, not enough pay. I’d be a bloody sight better off wi’out ’im though.’ Gladys tilted her head in her husband’s direction. Len had returned to the bar, afraid he might miss a snippet of juicy gossip.

  ‘Now then, my little chickadee, you’d be lost without me.’ A grin accompanied his words.

  Gladys ignored him and turned her attention to Ann. ‘What’s occurring then, lass?’

  ‘I just needed to see my friends. Richard left for home this morning and he’ll be away for the winter.’ Ann forced a small smile to her lips.

  ‘Oh, he’ll be back afore the spring, you mark my words,’ Gladys said by way of comfort.

  ‘Will you hark at her? Suddenly got second sight ’ave yer, my little gypsy?’ Len knew he was pushing his luck, but he could see Ann was in need of a little fun and laughter.

  ‘I got enough to see if yer don’t pour me a beer sharpish, I’ll be tekin me rolling pin to yer ’ead!’ Gladys gave Ann a little wink.

  A moment later a beer was placed on the table before Gladys as well as one for Ann.

  ‘Thank you, Len,’ Ann grinned up at him from her seat at the small round table. ‘How is Mrs Unwin getting on with you?’

  ‘Rachel is doing fine. Her works hard and her don’t take no lip from ’im,’ Gladys jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards a chuckling Len.

  ‘I’m so glad she’s settled in after – all that happened.’ Ann’s mind immediately went to her friend Floss.

  ‘How’s yer business doin’?’ Gladys asked before slurping her drink.

  ‘Very well indeed. Orders are coming in thick and fast now. Although we specialise in wedding garb, I’m taking on other work too, like ball gowns and – widow’s weeds.’

  Gladys nodded slowly, then rolled her eyes as Len chirped up, ‘No need for yo
u to worry about weeds, my little cherub, I’ll be around for a long time yet.’

  ‘That’s what you think!’ Gladys retorted.

  ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ Len said, theatrically moving his hand to his forehead in pretended surprise.

  ‘Am yer sure yer know what you’m eating, Len Pritchard? ’Cos I could be puttin’ anything in yer dinner.’ Turning to Ann, Gladys went on, ‘I think I’ll pop in next week, our Annie, and order my weeds an’ all.’

  The two women laughed as Len muttered something unintelligible before disappearing down the steps to the cellar.

  ‘Am the girls still stayin’ off the streets?’

  ‘Yes, Gladys, they are. Mary is doing all the cooking as well as some sewing and Patsy is cleaning the shop. Ella and Eve are serving a lot of customers and Maisie and I are busy with our wedding gowns. The orders are coming in so quickly now we’re having a hard time keeping up with them.’

  ‘What about when you’m married? Where you gonna live?’ Gladys asked tentatively.

  ‘We haven’t decided yet, but to be honest – I can’t bear the thought of leaving Wednesbury and all my friends.’ Ann’s look of despair was evident.

  ‘Ar well, there’s plenty of time to decide, so don’t dwell on it, bab,’ the older woman said gently. ‘’Ere, have you ’eard the news?’ Swiftly changing the subject, Gladys went on, ‘It seems that Victoria Beckett is in Stafford Gaol!’

  Ann was shocked. Having had no time to read the local newspaper, she was ignorant of the arrest having taken place. She wondered briefly if Maisie had learned of it from Jack or whether it would not have been discussed between them.

  ‘She ’as to go to the quarter sessions and then probably the assizes.’

  ‘On what charge?’ Ann asked, still trying to come to terms with the unexpected news.

  ‘Theft of money and jewellery, assault, and they’m pretty sure she did ’er mother in!’ Gladys was clearly enjoying the unfolding drama being played out in the papers.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Ann gasped, her hand coming to her throat.

  Gladys nodded. ‘I’ll bet ’er goes back to jail – might never come out again.’

  ‘What a waste of a young life,’ Ann said quietly.

  ‘What! After everything ’er did to you and you still feel sorry for ’er?’

  ‘I know, but I really think it’s a shame.’ Ann stood and put on her coat, ‘I’d best be getting back to my work. Thank you for the drink and I’ll see you again soon.’

  After a quick hug, Ann left the Bell and walked briskly along Camp Street, her mind on the gossip Gladys had just imparted.

  Forty-One

  Richard Wyndham was unaware of all that was happening to Ann as he visited his tenant farmers. It was early one morning when he received an unexpected visitor.

  ‘Father! How very nice to see you.’

  ‘Richard, my boy, how are you?’ Jeffrey Wyndham, Earl of Shrewsbury, asked as he stripped off his gloves and coat, handing them to the waiting maid, who quickly disappeared.

  ‘I’m well, Father. To what do I owe this honour?’ Richard yanked on the bell pull at the side of the fireplace.

  ‘Can’t a man call on his son once in a while?’ Jeffrey said with a laugh.

  A knock came to the drawing room door and a maid scuttled in.

  ‘Tea for two and cake please,’ Richard requested.

  The maid bobbed a quick curtsy and retreated back to the kitchen.

  The two men sat by the roaring fire in overstuffed armchairs.

  ‘How are things with your farmers, are they managing in this dreadful weather?’ Jeffrey asked.

  ‘Yes, Father. They appear to be doing rather well, in fact. The harvest was good this year and the cows calved without a single loss. The amount of wool from the sheep was more than we expected too.’ Richard eyed his father as he spoke, wondering at the true reason for the visit.

  It had been some time since the two had met and Richard instinctively knew there would be an ulterior motive. What that would be and when it would be voiced would not be long in the coming.

  Settling to the tea and cake brought by the maid a moment earlier, Richard asked, ‘How is my mother? I hope she’s well. And how are things in South Shropshire, Father?’

  ‘Good, my boy, all very good. Your mother is well. My farming community is also thriving, although I fear we will have a hard winter. The sheep have been brought down to lower ground early to enable feeding when it snows, as it surely will.’

  Richard could see his father was prevaricating and a little ill at ease.

  ‘What’s on your mind, Father? I feel there is something you wish to say, so why not just come out with it?’

  ‘Well, lad,’ Jeffrey drew in a breath, ‘your mother and I feel it’s time you wed and gave us some grandchildren.’

  ‘I see. As it happens, I have become engaged to a wonderful woman called Ann Felton. I know it would have been more acceptable to discuss this with mother and yourself, but I chose to give Ann a ring rather than lose her.’ Richard watched the surprise flit across the Earl’s face.

  ‘Tell me more, son. Who is she? Where is she from? Does her family have money?’ Jeffrey’s questions came thick and fast.

  Richard held up a hand to halt the barrage. ‘I met Ann when I attended the Mayor of Wednesbury’s inaugural ball.’

  ‘A lady of substance then,’ Jeffrey interrupted.

  ‘Not exactly, Father. Ann was a kitchen maid then, but now she’s a successful modiste.’

  Jeffrey’s mouth fell open at the revelation. ‘A kitchen maid – a modiste! Richard, you cannot seriously be entertaining the idea of marrying this girl? Surely for a dalliance it would be fine – but for marriage? No, Richard, it’s quite out of the question! I forbid it!’ Jeffrey slammed his cup and saucer on the table, his disgust at the idea clearly evident.

  ‘We are betrothed, Father, and I love her with all my heart,’ Richard said quietly. He knew this moment would come sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected it to be just yet. He had considered informing his parents after the wedding, in an effort to prevent what was now to become a raging argument. Yet his upbringing and social status prevented him from taking such an underhand course of action.

  ‘Then set her up as your mistress! It’s perfectly acceptable for men such as you and I to have a little lady in abeyance, so to speak.’ Jeffrey was trying his best to cajole his son into a change of mind.

  ‘Do you, Father? Have a “little lady” on the side, I mean. Is Mother aware of it?’ Richard’s temper flared as he spoke, the idea being completely incomprehensible to him.

  ‘I – erm – it is not me we are discussing, Richard! Good grief, boy, do you want to break your mother’s heart?’

  ‘Father, you are condemning Ann out of hand. You haven’t even met her yet!’ Richard stood and, grasping the iron poker, he rammed it into the fire and raked the coals. Satisfied as the flames leapt higher, he replaced the poker in its rightful place on the companion set standing on the hearth.

  ‘Nor do I wish to! Richard, you must think of the family name! You simply cannot marry beneath your station! Now, your mother has found a suitable young lady—’

  ‘No!’ Richard stood looking down at his pater. ‘No, Father. You may tell mother to stop looking for a wife for me as I have already found the love of my life.’ Turning, Richard yanked the bell pull once more.

  ‘Richard – I – you…’ Jeffrey faltered.

  ‘Thank you for calling, Father, but I’m sure it’s time you were on your way.’

  A tap preceded the opening of the door and the maid bobbed a knee.

  ‘My father is leaving now, be kind enough to show him out,’ Richard said to the maid.

  ‘You have not heard the last of this!’ Jeffrey Wyndham barked as he marched towards the door.

  ‘I expect not, but it will make no difference.’

  Richard sighed loudly when he was alone again and, leaning his hands on
the mantelpiece, he gazed into the fire. This was precisely what he had been expecting and what he had feared. Would his parents come around to his way of thinking? Or would hostility prevail and cause a massive rift in the family.

  ‘Oh, Ann, I miss you so,’ he whispered into the dancing flames.

  Taking a few days to mull things over, Richard could put off his decision no longer. Striding out to the stable he mounted his horse and headed for Wednesbury. Ignoring the possibility of bad weather, he had to tell Ann of the visit from his father and his parents being against the marriage.

  Richard sat in his room at the Albert Hotel that evening and pondered the visit from his father. He berated himself for saying nothing of his parents to Ann for the very reason Jeffrey had raised: she was not of his class. To Richard it made no difference, his love for her crossed all barriers, but to his father it was imperative that Richard should marry well.

  Ann had often asked about his family, but Richard had always steered the conversation in another direction. He had felt badly, keeping his parents a secret, but had wanted them onside before introducing Ann to them.

  Staring at the glass of whisky in his hand, its golden liquid glistening in the firelight, Richard knew the time had come. He would have to inform Ann of his parents’ disapproval. Knowing her as he did, he was convinced she would release him from their engagement rather than be the cause of a family feud.

  He could, of course, continue the deception, but was that being fair to Ann? Could it be construed as his deceiving her or could it be seen as an omission?

  Taking a sip of his drink, he felt its fire as he swallowed. Now he was back in Wednesbury and tomorrow Ann would know of his parents’ disapproval. The question now was – how would she react?

  Forty-Two

  The weather grew colder still as time sped by. Frosty mornings saw chimneys puff out swirling streams of smoke as people lit their fires to beat off the chill. Winter clothes were donned when folk went outdoors, and grumbles abounded about the freezing winds and how quickly they had arrived.