The Doorstep Girls

by Valerie Wood

  ‘I’ll lose wages,’ she growled. ‘I can’t afford to take time off.’

  He felt deep into his pocket. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Take this shilling for now.’ He pressed the coin into her hand. ‘There’s more where that came from.’

  She felt hysteria growing inside her as he repeated Jamie’s words. This was the kind of man she would have to deal with if she accepted Jamie’s offer. She had seen the lascivious look in his eyes as he’d greeted Grace and she couldn’t bear it.

  She handed the coin back to him. ‘No thanks. We’ve managed without you for nigh on eight years, we can manage a bit longer.’ She looked at her mother, whose head was sinking lower and lower onto the table, and went towards her. ‘Come on, Ma. Let’s have you home.’

  Grace moved forward to help her and together they lifted Bessie from her chair. ‘You’d best be getting a room here for the night,’ Grace murmured to Josh. ‘There’s no fire at your mother’s house, no food or drink and ’court is flooded up to ’step.’

  ‘And no welcome either, by ’look of it,’ he muttered. He cast his eyes over Grace and asked softly, ‘What about your place, Gracie? Any welcome there?’

  ‘We’re three to a bed already,’ she replied sharply. ‘I don’t think my da would be very pleased. He’s a bit particular about who shares his bed.’

  Josh grinned. ‘That’s not what I heard.’

  ‘Don’t waste your breath on him, Grace.’ Ruby didn’t even look at her brother. ‘Come on, let’s get off home, such as it is.’

  ‘Why were you so hard on him, Ruby?’ Grace put an arm around Bessie’s waist, as did Ruby, and they hauled her down the steps of the inn and into the street. ‘You refused his money!’

  ‘Aye, I did. I remember ’day he went away. He was that cocky and full of himself. He said, “Cheerio. Shan’t be seeing you again, not if I can help it anyway.”’ She stopped for a minute and took a breath. ‘I asked him what would happen to us, to Ma and Freddie and me, and he said he didn’t know and didn’t much care either. I was onny a bairn and I was frightened. He was allus a bully, but even so I didn’t like ’thought of being left alone just with Ma and a young babby.’

  They walked on, taking Bessie’s full weight for she was asleep on her feet. ‘Well, you managed, Ruby, didn’t you?’ Grace said. ‘You didn’t need him.’

  ‘No, nor my father either. I vowed then that I would stand on my own two feet and I have.’ But what do I do now, she pondered. Do I accept Jamie’s offer and rely on him? I don’t like ’idea of it. I suppose I don’t really trust him, or any other man for that matter. Daniel, she thought. I’d trust him. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I forgot to tell you, Grace. I had another visitor today. Daniel. But he was really looking for you. He has something to tell you.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It was a dark and bitterly cold winter morning when they set out for work the next day. Bessie was still sleeping and Ruby had left the remainder of the pie on a tin plate next to the mattress so that her mother would see it when she awoke. She ate the last of the bread, for there would be nothing more until work was over at six that evening.

  Grace’s mother and father had gone out before her and Grace locked the door and hid the key as usual. Her mother had not felt well, but made little complaint, save a grimace when she bent to fasten her boots. Her father was generally taciturn of a morning and they neither expected nor received any conversation from him.

  Daniel was coming out of his door at the same time as Grace, and she greeted him. ‘Ruby said you wanted to see me, Daniel. Will it keep until tonight?’ She noticed that his eyes were shadowed, as if he hadn’t slept well. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  He hesitated and looked around the court. Other people were emerging from their doors on their way to work. His own door opened and a man came out. He and his wife and children had taken the tenancy of the room above the Hansons, the one where the body had been found. Ruby too was coming towards them.

  ‘Yes, I’m all right,’ he agreed. ‘I – er, I was going to ask your opinion on something. I talked to Ruby, though, and I know what I’m going to do.’

  She felt a fleeting disappointment that she hadn’t been there when he called and that Ruby had. ‘Was it important?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, but I had to make up my own mind. It’s my decision.’

  ‘Sounds worrying,’ she said, as Ruby caught up with them.

  ‘Everything’s worrying,’ Ruby remarked. ‘You just don’t have to let it get you down, and what’s more, when you’ve made up your mind, stick with it and see it through.’

  Grace glanced keenly at Ruby, then walked after her out of the court with Daniel following behind. He left them then, as his workshop was in another direction from theirs.

  ‘Good luck, Daniel,’ Ruby called after him.

  ‘What’s happening? What’s Daniel doing?’ Grace watched Daniel’s retreating back and saw him raise his hand in response, though he didn’t turn around.

  ‘I suspect he’s giving up his apprenticeship. That’s why he wanted to talk to you and came to me instead.’ She glanced at Grace. ‘Just as well you were out. You’d have tried to persuade him not to, and I let him talk so that he made up his own mind.’

  ‘He did mention it once before,’ Grace said thoughtfully. ‘But what will he do if he gives up? There’s very little work around anyway.’

  ‘He’ll join that elite band of men like my brother did. But I can’t think he’ll turn out ’same. Daniel’s going to sea to save his family,’ she grieved. ‘Unlike Josh who abandoned his.’

  ‘Oh! Oh, Ruby! That means we might not see him again!’

  ‘Oh, he’ll be back, don’t worry. He’s sweet on you, Grace.’ Ruby linked her arm into Grace’s. ‘He’ll be back.’

  As they approached Wincomlee they saw workpeople, men and women, running towards the warehouses by the river, their clogs clattering on the cobbles. ‘Are we late?’ Grace pulled at Ruby’s arm and they hurried their steps.

  ‘I’m sure we’re not!’

  Other people were rushing in the same direction, hundreds of them, and they could hear a great commotion of shouts and shrieks. ‘Summat’s happened.’ Grace started to run. ‘Somebody’s fallen in ’river!’

  Pandemonium was rippling through the crowd of onlookers who were gathered at the riverside and staring down into the water below, from where came terrible cries of distress. Men were stretched out at the staithe edge and holding their arms down towards the dark water, and as Grace and Ruby ran towards them, one man pulled off his boots and jumped in and then another did the same.

  ‘Poor bairns! Poor bairns!’ a woman shrieked. ‘Get them out! Get them out!’

  ‘What’s happened? What’s happened?’ They tried to peer over the heads of the crowd but there was such a crush and it was still dark and the river was black, though they could see a grey shape in the middle and flickering lanterns on the other side.

  ‘It’s ’ferry! It’s turned over,’ another woman told them, her face stricken. ‘Folks is drowning! There’s some bairns in there. Irish!’

  Ruby and Grace stared horrified at each other and ignored the wail of the hooter which was calling them to work. ‘What can we do?’ Grace pushed her way forward. ‘What can we do?’

  One of the men who had jumped into the river was swimming towards the overturned boat. He dived beneath and disappeared, then reappeared, holding somebody up from the water. They watched as he swam back to the staithe side. He held up the limp form of a child. ‘Get a hook,’ he shouted. ‘Look sharp. Pull her out.’

  Grace looked around. There was a lamp hanging on a warehouse wall and by its light she saw a grappling hook next to it. She rushed to get it. As she dashed back, another man took it from her and kneeling down he leaned precariously towards the river and hooked it into the child’s garments, pulling her towards the riverbank.

  ‘I can’t lift her,’ he gasped. ‘Weight’s too much, ’pole’ll snap. Get a rope!’


  Someone threw a rope into the water and the man who had rescued the girl tied it around her. Grace stood back to make room for the men who were dragging the child from the water. She looked across the narrow river. Someone was hauling a body from under the ferry. Boatmen on the other side were feverishly untying ropes from the wharves to tug off their boats and go to assist. Young men were jumping in the river and trying to help those who were in difficulties, others were rushing towards the Charterhouse steps where a small boat was tied up. What sickened her was the sight of bodies floating in the water, mostly women and children, who had set out for work and been overtaken by disaster.

  She turned when she felt a pull on her skirt. It was Ruby, her face ashen and her mouth trembling as she spoke. ‘Come away, Grace. We can do nowt here.’

  Grace shook her head. ‘No. You go. I want to stay. To help if I can.’

  Ruby walked away and Grace turned back to the staithe side where a crowd had gathered around the body of the child. She pushed her way through and looked down. The girl was about ten years old, her plaited reddish hair caught with detritus from the river and her blue eyes wide open.

  Grace bent down and gently closed her eyelids, removed shreds of green slime from her mouth and touched her cold cheek. ‘Does anyone know who she is?’ Her voice was choked.

  ‘She’ll be from ’Groves if she was on ’ferry,’ a voice said. ‘Irish more’n likely.’

  There had been a murmuring from the crowd behind her but they started to disperse as one of the foremen from the mill appeared. ‘You can do no more. River men are on their way, they’ll know what to do. You, you and you.’ He pointed to some of the men. ‘Stay here to help. Rest of you get to work or you’ll lose wages.’ He crouched down beside Grace and the girl. ‘Do you know any of these people?’ Other bodies were being laid out on the staithe side whilst those who had been rescued were weeping and clutching at those near them.

  ‘No. Some of ’em by sight. Can we have some sheets to cover them?’ she asked. ‘It’s not right for them to be laid here like this for all to see. It’s not respectful.’

  The foreman nodded and called to the women who were walking away, telling them to send back some imperfect cotton sheeting to cover the bodies.

  ‘If I put in a note to say why you’re absent, will you stop here?’ he asked Grace. ‘I have to get back, we’ve a big consignment of raw cotton coming in from ’docks. I have to be there when it arrives.’

  ‘But what shall I do?’ She looked around. Most people had drifted away, leaving one or two women who were comforting those who had been rescued, and a group of men who were organizing the shipping in the river and discussing how best to move the stricken ferry boat and bring out any other victims.

  He took a notebook from his pocket and a pencil from behind his ear and handed them to her. ‘Make a note of who’s who, find out ’names of those who’ve perished if you can and where they live. We’ll have to notify authorities and next of kin.’ He pushed his hair back from his forehead and blew out a breath. ‘Phew! What a mess.’

  ‘And ’managers of ’mill,’ Grace reminded him. ‘They’ll need to know.’

  He stood up. ‘As soon as they come in I’ll tell ’em, but they’ll not be here yet. Mr Emerson allus said there’d be a tragedy on this ferry one day.’ He was speaking of the director who had resigned from the board. ‘Folks jumping around, not sitting still. ’Boat wasn’t stable.’

  But it is the quickest way to get across the river, Grace thought. Otherwise the workpeople from the Groves had to walk a fair distance to the North Bridge in order to cross over.

  By eight o’clock she had all the names of those who had survived and most of the people who had drowned, including the child, and she didn’t know why she felt a sickening certainty that it was the little Irish girl that Daniel had spoken of. She then took it upon herself to requisition a waggon and driver from the mill to take the survivors home for the day, and told them that she would intervene with the mill foreman and ask him not to stop their wages. She had spoken to the constable and sergeant who had arrived and passed on all the details which she had available, and the bodies were taken away.

  ‘By, you’ve saved us some time, miss,’ the sergeant said as she handed the list to him. Then he frowned. ‘This child who drowned. How come she was on her own? There’s nobody else of that name on this list. Does her ma not work at ’mill as well?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Grace answered. ‘I’ve not seen her before.’

  ‘We’ll have to inform somebody.’ The sergeant looked again at the list and pursed his lips. ‘I hate this job sometimes. One of ’worst things is telling a mother her bairn is dead.’ He looked at Grace. ‘Do you want to come?’

  ‘Come where?’ Grace was puzzled. ‘To her house, do you mean?’ And when he nodded, she said, ‘I’m supposed to be at work.’

  They all looked up as someone approached them. The constable saluted and Grace dipped her knee. It was Martin Newmarch.

  ‘I came as soon as I heard,’ he said to the sergeant. ‘Terrible business. How many fatalities?’

  ‘Fourteen, sir,’ Grace answered before the sergeant could check the list. ‘Twelve of them women and children.’

  He shook his head despairingly and gave a soft exclamation. ‘Do we know how this catastrophe occurred?’

  ‘We haven’t had ’opportunity to establish that as yet, sir.’ The sergeant shuffled his feet. ‘But there is a possibility that ’ferry was overloaded.’

  ‘There was also some talk that ’passengers were running from one side to the other, sir,’ Grace broke in. ‘Just having a bit of fun. But then ’boat started to tip.’

  He gazed at her. ‘Did you see it happen?’

  ‘No, sir, but I’ve been talking to some of those who were saved.’

  He glanced around at the staithe. It was getting lighter now, a thin ray of dawn in the sky. Only boatmen and bargemen who worked the river were there. ‘Where are they? The survivors?’

  Grace bit her lip. ‘They’ve gone home, sir. I—They were in no fit state to work.’

  ‘Of course. Quite right. Well, Sergeant, I’ll leave you and your men to get on with the grim task of telling the relatives – or would you like me to come with you? Most of them would be our workers, I suppose?’

  ‘Some were from Kingston Mill, sir, from up yonder.’ Grace nodded up Wincomlee. Both mills had warehouses on either side of the river. ‘I’ve written on ’list where they worked.’

  Newmarch put his hand out for the list which the sergeant held. ‘You did this?’ he asked Grace.

  ‘Yes, sir. ’Foreman asked me if I would.’

  ‘Was there no-one in authority here?’ He frowned. ‘No-one from either of the mills?’

  ‘It was early, there were only work folk here. Everybody was doing what they could,’ Grace protested. ‘Men from ’yards, women too. The boatmen tried to put their boats out to save some of them but ’tide was against them. By ’time they got them floated off, it was too late.’ She gave a little sob, the enormity of the tragedy suddenly hitting her.

  ‘Yes, yes, I didn’t mean –’ he floundered, looking at her. ‘I’m quite sure everyone did what they could. But there should have been someone here – one of the managers, to look after the survivors and see they got safely home.’

  Grace was silent. No need now to fear any trouble for using the waggon and driver. Martin Newmarch was feeling guilty that there hadn’t been someone in authority to take charge.

  The sergeant and his constable touched their foreheads and moved away to talk to the boatmen. Grace seized the opportunity and asked, ‘Mr Newmarch? Will it be possible for those who survived and have gone home to be paid their wages? I know it wasn’t fault of ’mill owners that ’ferry went over, but those people will badly miss a day’s money.’

  ‘I’ll look into it,’ he said. His mouth twitched slightly. ‘And what about you? Will you expect to be paid too?’

  She gazed up at
him, at his square chin, solemn face and dark eyes. ‘I don’t expect anything, sir, and I’ll go back to work now that I’ve finished here. But ’foreman did ask me to stay. He said he’d put in a note about why I wasn’t at work.’

  ‘Did he?’ He continued to gaze down at her and she began to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Then he gave a slight smile. ‘Well, he chose very well. What’s your name?’

  ‘Grace Sheppard, sir.’

  He nodded. ‘I think I’ve seen you before, Miss Sheppard.’ His brown eyes seemed to bore into her. ‘Now what do you think about coming along with me to comfort those who have lost relatives? A woman’s sympathy is always a help, don’t you think, and –’ He hesitated. ‘A manager of a company often makes people uncomfortable. I don’t know why, do you?’

  She wasn’t sure if he really expected an answer, but she replied in a candid manner. ‘Well, sir, you have their livelihoods in your hands. I expect they’re afraid of you.’

  He stared at her for a moment, then blinked as if he suddenly remembered who he was, and that it wasn’t circumspect to have a discussion out here with a lowly member of his workforce. She saw him visibly stiffen as he said briskly, ‘Go inside and tell the foreman that you are coming with me, then meet me at the front entrance in five minutes.’

  She dipped her knee and left him. The front entrance! She had never been there before, only through the mill doors at the back of the building. She hurried, thinking it might take her some time to find the foreman, but as luck would have it he was in the mill yard supervising men on a delivery waggon who were unloading bales of raw cotton.

  She told him where she was going and he pulled a wry face. ‘Mixing wi’ management, are we? Get in his good books and he’ll be mekking you a supervisor next!’

  She hurried away and as she turned a corner to the front of the building she almost collided with Edward Newmarch, who was coming the other way.

  ‘Whoa!’ He caught hold of her arm. ‘Where are you dashing off to?’

  ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir. To see Mr Martin Newmarch.’ Her face flushed. ‘I’ve to meet him at ’front. I’m going with him to see ’bereaved relatives.’