The Doorstep Girls

by Valerie Wood

  She got up from the stool. ‘I’m going out,’ she declared. ‘I feel like having a walk.’

  ‘You’ve been walking all day, haven’t you, looking for work?’ her father asked.

  She nodded and told a white lie. ‘Yes, but I thought I might see if Ruby’s about, just for a chat, you know!’

  Her father looked at her suspiciously. ‘A chat about what?’

  She shrugged. ‘Just things, Da.’ She gazed at him steadily. ‘Nothing much.’

  She wrapped her shawl around her. ‘I won’t be too long.’

  I’ll just take a look, she decided as she walked towards Whitefriargate, one of the main shopping areas of Hull and where the workhouse was situated. The doors will be locked for the night anyway, though there’ll be vagrants hanging around outside.

  She stopped at the high wooden doors of the workhouse, which, as she had guessed, were locked. Vagrants and destitute people were sitting on the ground outside, waiting for the morning when they might apply for shelter.

  Am I brave enough to ask? Could I stand the crush of poverty within those walls? A woman in thin clothes and shawl, with a mewling child pressed to her breast, looked up at Grace. Her eyes were dull and lifeless and Grace felt such pity for her. It’s not fair! Outrage consumed her. It’s not right! Tears filled her eyes. What have we been campaigning for? Do the Guardians of Hull come down here to see these people?

  She felt a restraining hand on her shoulder and she jumped and put up her hand, ready to strike in defence. It was her father, who, uneasy at her going out late and thinking the worst, had followed her.

  ‘Come on, lass.’ His voice was choked. ‘We’re not ready for this yet.’

  She turned to him and leaned her head on his chest. He put his arms around her and held her close, and she wept hot tears of anger, frustration and sorrow.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jamie was furious with his mother. She hadn’t come home until the early hours of the morning, and although he knew where she was and with whom, a grocer from nearby, he told her he’d been worried about her.

  ‘Worried whether I’d be bringing some money home, more like,’ she said sharply. ‘Here.’ She handed over her money bag which she always kept beneath her skirt. ‘Is this what you want?’

  Sullenly he took it from her, counted the contents and handed some coins back to her. ‘You’ve been going to him more regular than you used to,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Working longer hours, is he?’

  ‘I haven’t been to his shop,’ she muttered and her neck flushed. ‘I’ve been to his house.’

  Jamie stared at her. ‘He took you home? Where’s his wife?’

  ‘Six foot under.’ She stared back at him. ‘She’s been sick for a bit. She died a week ago.’

  ‘I never heard!’

  ‘Well, you don’t hear everything! Didn’t you notice his shop was shut for a couple o’ days?’

  He shook his head. ‘So, that means he’ll want you more often.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Good!’

  ‘No,’ she said and looked away. ‘It doesn’t mean that. He wants me to marry him.’

  Jamie’s mouth dropped open. ‘Customers don’t marry whores like you,’ he gasped.

  She turned to him in fury. ‘Don’t you speak to me like that!’ she spat. ‘I’m your mother, remember?’

  ‘You’re still a whore,’ he shouted back. ‘A street woman! And you’d be nowt without me. You’d be sleeping in ’gutter if I hadn’t tekken you in hand!’

  ‘Why, you dirty little pander!’ She brought her hand up and slapped him across the face. ‘What do you think folks think about us? A son procuring for his mother!’

  He reached out and grabbed her by the throat, pushing her against the wall. ‘I’m not bothered about what folks think,’ he snarled. ‘But what do I do if you marry him? Where’s my living going to come from?’

  She pushed him away. ‘You’ll have to find somebody else like you said you would,’ she yelled. ‘You were willing enough to drop me if it suited you! Anyway, there’s plenty of young lasses about who’ve no money and no livelihood. Go and hang round ’workhouse. There’s any amount of women in there who want to earn a copper!’

  ‘So when’s this wedding taking place?’ His mouth curled into a sneer, but he was devastated. What would he do?

  ‘Not yet,’ she said, calming down. She took the pins out of her hair and let it fall. ‘He’s got to wait a bit – out of respect for his wife.’

  ‘You what! He’s been fornicating wi’ you all these years and now he has to wait – out of respect for his wife!’ He gave a derisive snort. ‘He’s having you on! He’ll not marry you, Nell. Why should he?’

  She put out her left hand. On her third finger a ring sparkled. ‘He’s allus said he’d marry me if he was free,’ she said quietly. ‘But I never believed him. I allus thought it was bed talk.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But he does mean it. We get on, you see. He says I make him laugh.’ She shrugged. ‘And we’re good together at ’other thing. So I said yes. It’ll be at ’end of ’summer.

  ‘Sorry, Jamie,’ she added. ‘But this is ’best chance I’ll ever have. I’ll have a nice little house and a steady income and I won’t have to go out at night. Besides, I’m fond of him. He’s been good to me.’

  Jamie turned without speaking and slammed out of the door. He couldn’t believe it. His mother getting married! Well, there’d be no room for him in that relationship. The grocer wouldn’t want him hanging around, he’d shown his disapproval of him several times.

  Other women? He ran those he knew through his mind. There was Grace, but she was far too pure and besides she was on some kind of crusade, so he’d heard. Ruby was out, and he was mad about that, he was sure that the man he’d arranged for her to meet was the one she was living with now. By rights I should be taking some of her earnings! He slouched to the top of the alley and put his hands in his coat pockets. His fingers touched the bag of raw opium which a drunken seaman had given him when he’d directed him to Leadenhall Square in search of a girl.

  He broke off a piece and chewed it. He’d always been quick-witted. He just needed the right opportunity to come along. He’d know it when it did.

  At the beginning of a week when Ruby had brought her a box of groceries, Bessie was in fine fettle. She ate dutifully as was expected of her and trotted down to Mr Cooke to collect her bottle of laudanum, nodding agreeably each time that he told her that it had to last the whole day. By the middle of the week she was craving for more than the small dose and forgetting to eat.

  She had an arrangement with Mr Blake, who was being paid a shilling a week by Ruby to keep an eye on her. She gave the Blakes her bread which was collected from the baker every day and they brought her a jug of ale, which was in addition to the one which Ruby brought. Ruby knew nothing of this and Bessie had told the Blakes most emphatically that they were not to tell her. But the craving for more laudanum was intense and no matter how she pleaded, the apothecary would not let her have another bottle and she had no money to go elsewhere.

  ‘Mrs Blake,’ she called out one afternoon as Mrs Blake came cautiously down the stairs. She lived in constant worry of the discovery that they were living rent-free in the room upstairs. ‘There’s no fear of ’landlord coming,’ Bessie had assured her previously. ‘Our Ruby pays at ’rent office, every month.’

  Now, as she called Mrs Blake in, she had a special favour to ask. ‘I’ve dropped my bottle of loddy,’ she grieved, putting on a downcast expression. ‘Most of it spilt on ’floor. What am I to do? Apothecary won’t give me any more.’

  ‘Oh, Bessie, I don’t know.’ Mrs Blake always had an anxious look on her face, a frown which started at the top of her nose and ran down her cheekbones to her narrow chin. ‘I’d buy some for you if I could, you know that I would. But I’ve no money, onny that shilling that Ruby gives to Mr Blake.’

  ‘And have you spent it?’ Bessie asked eagerly.

  ‘Most of it.’ Mrs Bl
ake looked warily at Bessie. ‘I think there’s thruppence left.’

  ‘Thruppence?’ Bessie pursed her mouth. She could get a few pieces of raw opium for that. ‘Mrs Blake,’ she wheedled. ‘How would you like to sleep in a proper bed?’ She pointed to hers. ‘Like this one.’

  Mrs Blake gave a low snigger. ‘Have pigs got wings?’

  ‘If I was to lend you my bed for a night,’ Bessie suggested, ‘would you get me a tincture of loddy or threepennoth o’ raw?’

  ‘But where would you sleep, Bessie? There wouldn’t be room for you to share wi’ me and Mr Blake and ’bairns.’

  ‘No!’ Bessie laughed heartily at the idea and was encouraged that Mrs Blake hadn’t said no. ‘I’d sleep on ’chair, here by ’fire. There’s allus a good blaze,’ she added coaxingly. ‘We’ve plenty o’ firewood – and coal.’

  Mrs Blake looked tempted. ‘I’ll ask Mr Blake. It’d be nice,’ she said longingly.

  ‘Well, ask him,’ Bessie encouraged. ‘And if he says yes, we could mebbe have an arrangement once or twice a week, say. Cos I must have me loddy, Mrs Blake. I’m desperate. Onny you’re not to tell our Ruby!’

  Mr Blake agreed to two pence for the loan of the bed. ‘We might need that extra penny,’ he said to his wife. ‘And she can get a goodish piece o’ raw for tuppence.’ They were managing very well on the bread that Bessie was giving them every day, and they usually had a gulp of ale from the jug before taking it to her. They had also been given outdoor relief for the children. In the last week the Board of Guardians had supplied them with an ounce of tea, half a pound of sugar and a loaf of bread, and told them to apply again the following week.

  So with the shilling that Ruby was giving them and the fact that they were living rent-free, and sleeping on Bessie’s old mattress which they had hauled upstairs again, they reckoned that their fortune had changed for the better.

  ‘Shall I fetch it for you?’ Mrs Blake asked Bessie before handing over the coins. ‘I can go quicker than you.’

  ‘No, no. I can manage.’ Bessie hurriedly pulled on her boots. ‘I know a good grocer.’ She also knew that Mrs Blake would be tempted to nibble a few crumbs of opium if she had it in her hand. ‘I’ll see if he won’t let me have a bit o’ baccy as well. Our Ruby spends plenty of money with him.’

  She slipped her clay pipe into her pocket and scurried off, her black skirt flapping around her heels and her shawl pulled tightly around her head.

  ‘Where you off to, Bessie?’ A voice greeted her as she came out into the street, and she looked up at Jamie who was lounging against the wall.

  ‘Nowt to do wi’ you where I’m going.’ She scowled at him.

  He put his hand into his pocket and brought out a paper bag. ‘I was going to offer you some of this,’ he said. ‘Just got it off a ship.’

  She hesitated, then, curiosity getting the better of her, she stopped. ‘What? What is it? Not some of that bad loddy like you sold me last time?’

  ‘It wasn’t bad, Bessie. Just stronger than you’re used to. Here, try a bit o’ this.’ He broke off a few crumbs from the block in the bag.

  Bessie peered into the bag. ‘That must have cost you a bob or two,’ she muttered. ‘Business must be good. Your ma doing well, is she?’ she asked cynically, but took the offering and popped it in her mouth and chewed. ‘Are you selling?’

  ‘I might,’ he said. ‘But onny to folks I know. This is good stuff. Worth a bit.’

  ‘I’ll buy a pennorth from you,’ she said, and wondered how big a piece he would trade for a penny.

  ‘A penny! It’s worth more than that. It’d cost you a shilling down at ’grocers for this quality.’

  She shrugged and turned away. ‘Suit yourself! That’s where I’m off to anyway.’

  ‘Hang on a minute. Don’t be so hasty, Bess.’ He broke off a larger piece. ‘You can have this for sixpence.’

  ‘I haven’t got sixpence! Tuppence is my limit.’

  ‘Go on, then. Seeing as it’s you,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Onny don’t tell anybody what a bargain you got. I can’t afford to let anybody else have it at that price.’

  She took it from him and handed over the two pence and considered she had done a good deal. It was a bigger piece than she would have got from the grocer. Though she still needed to go there to wheedle some tobacco from him. She broke off a small piece and rolled it around her mouth. Yes, it was good, better than laudanum, which was often diluted.

  ‘Come and have a glass of ale, Bessie,’ Jamie offered. ‘I’m just off for one.’

  Bessie frowned. What was he after? ‘I’ve no money left,’ she muttered. ‘Can’t afford to pay,’ but it would be nice, she thought. She’d finished off the jug which the Blakes had brought her, and Ruby wouldn’t bring any more until the next morning.

  ‘I’ll buy you a glass,’ he persuaded. ‘I need a bit of advice, Bessie. From somebody mature and experienced like you.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She was flattered, but she didn’t trust him. Still, a glass of ale was a glass of ale, and she didn’t need to do more than listen to him.

  He took her to the Tap and Barrel, which he said was his favourite watering hole. He sat her down at a table and called the landlord to bring a jug of ale and a rum each.

  ‘What you after?’ she asked, taking a long drink from the glass, and, crumbling a piece from the opium in her pocket, she slipped it under her tongue.

  ‘I need your advice, Bessie. You’ve seen a bit of life, haven’t you?’

  ‘Huh,’ she grunted. ‘Not ’sort I’d want to boast about.’ She shook her head to clear it and saw Jamie’s hand push the glass of rum towards her.

  ‘It’s my ma, you see, Bessie. Nell.’ He gazed piercingly at her. ‘I’m getting a bit bothered about her.’

  Bessie leaned forward and took the rum. She drank it down in one swallow, then followed it by a gulp of ale. ‘Why’s that then?’ She screwed up her eyes then opened them wider, the better to see him. ‘She’s all right, ishn’t she?’ Her tongue and few teeth were not co-ordinating. ‘She’s getting on a bit to do what she’s doing.’ She shook her head again. ‘She must be thirty-five, easy.’

  He nodded and watched her. ‘Thirty-six,’ he agreed. ‘You need to be young for ’game she’s in. More like your Ruby’s age.’

  She wagged a finger at him. ‘Don’t mess wi’ Ruby.’ She picked up her glass and found it was empty, and he signalled to the landlord for another jug. ‘She’s doing all right is my Ruby. Got a nice gentleman.’

  ‘Yes, I’d heard. What was his name again?’

  Bessie blinked. Something told her he was probing, but she was feeling very light-headed and couldn’t concentrate. ‘Don’t know,’ she mumbled and took another drink. ‘She’s never said.’

  ‘Oh, but you must have some idea,’ he persuaded. ‘Fixed her up somewhere, has he? I hardly ever see her around these days.’

  ‘Got a nice place,’ she slurred. ‘Doesn’t have to live in Middle Court.’ She nodded her head and smiled blissfully. ‘Set up, she is, but she looks after her ma. Brings me groceries. Bought me a proper bed.’

  ‘She’s a good daughter,’ Jamie agreed. ‘Businessman, is he? Man of property?’

  ‘Summat like that,’ she said drowsily. ‘Looks after her anyway. Comes to see her every day, ’cept this last week when he got married.’

  ‘Ah! Got married, did he?’ Jamie watched Bessie’s head drop lower to her chest until it was almost level with the table. ‘And comes every day, which means he must have some kind of business around ’town. Well, that’s a start, I suppose.’

  He got up from the table and looked down at Bessie. ‘Sorry I can’t stop, Bess. I have to be off.’

  ‘You’re not leaving her there, are you?’ the landlord called.

  Jamie shrugged. ‘She’s not my responsibility,’ he said. ‘She can’t hold her ale.’

  The landlord came over and peered at Bessie. ‘She’s had more than ale,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t have given her ru
m, Jamie. She’s mebbe had a dose o’ loddy, these old women can’t do without it.’

  ‘She’s not wi’ me,’ Jamie asserted. ‘We just came through ’door together. She persuaded me to buy her a drink. I thought I was doing her a favour.’

  ‘But you know her, don’t you? Bessie Robson! She lives round here.’

  ‘Oh, aye. Everybody knows her, and her lovely daughter.’ He was about to leave, then turned as if in afterthought. ‘Have you, er, have you heard of any nob getting married lately? Somebody in business round here?’

  The landlord shook his head. ‘Weddings are not my line. Not much demand for ’em in this area.’

  ‘I have,’ a woman’s voice called, and the landlord’s wife came from behind the counter with a cloth in her hand. ‘One of bosses from ’cotton mill. He’s just got married to some bigwig’s daughter.’

  ‘Ah.’ Jamie shook his head. ‘Not ’same one then. Anyway I’ll be off.’

  ‘What about her?’ The landlord pointed to Bessie, now snoring loudly.

  ‘Like I say, she’s not wi’ me. But if I see her daughter I’ll tell her to collect her. Cheerio!’

  The landlord and his wife looked at each other as he went out. ‘Damned pander!’ she said. ‘He’s up to summat. What’s he brought an old woman like Bessie in here for?’

  The landlord snorted. ‘Well, not for owt he’s selling, and that’s a fact. She’s long past owt like that. Shout for ’lad to bring ’handcart round to ’front door, will you? We’ll have to get her home afore dark.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  ‘Grace!’ Ruby hammered on the door, then opened it. She had a huge grin on her face. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’

  Ruby crouched down beside her. There was no-one else in the house, but she lowered her voice. ‘I’m going away tonight just for a couple of days!’

  ‘Going away? Where?’