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Daisy's Betrayal

Page 42

by Nancy Carson


  ‘Please, ma’am … I know it might be awkward for you, meeting me like this, especially after … you know … But I’m so glad I’ve seen you. You were very fair to me in the short time I worked for you …’

  ‘I was in service myself once,’ Daisy said kindly, taken with Caitlin’s sincerity. ‘I know what it means to have a considerate employer.’

  Caitlin lowered her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry for the way it all ended up, ma’am.’

  ‘Water under the bridge, Caitlin.’

  ‘I understand, ma’am … that … that you and Mr Maddox went your separate ways …’

  ‘Yes, we did.’

  ‘Best thing you could have done, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

  Daisy shrugged non-committally. After all, what business was it of Caitlin’s?

  ‘Oh, ma’am, please don’t mind me askin’, but would you take me for a cup of tea and a bite to eat? I’ve not eaten for two days, and my baby …’ There was an impassioned plea in her expression that Daisy found impossible to resist. ‘And there’s so much I can tell you. So much I’d like you to know …’

  Daisy was suddenly intrigued and pondered where they could go. It was afternoon, the dinnertime rush was over. ‘All right. Let’s go to the Fountain Dining Rooms across the road.’

  ‘Wherever you say, ma’am.’

  ‘What name have you given the baby?’ Daisy asked conversationally as they headed towards the eating house.

  ‘Daisy, ma’am. After you.’

  ‘Daisy?’ Daisy smiled, pleasantly surprised and of course flattered. ‘You named her after me?’

  ‘Yes. As a reminder of what a decent, sensible woman should be like. I look up to you, ma’am. I always did. I admired you from the outset. I just got a little bit side-tracked by your husband along the way.’

  ‘I suppose that’s one way of putting it.’

  ‘But I didn’t know he was your husband at the time,’ she said defensively. ‘Otherwise I would never …’

  They quickly arrived at the Fountain Dining Rooms. The place was empty but for a youngish couple who were whispering sweet nothings to each other in a distant corner. Daisy chose a table far from them and they sat down.

  ‘How’s your mother?’ Daisy asked while they waited to be served. ‘Is she still a cook?’

  ‘I don’t know, to tell you the truth, ma’am, but I imagine so. I don’t see her. She’s a devout Catholic, you know. She disowned me when she found out I was carrying a child out of wedlock.’

  ‘Just when you could have used her help and support.’

  Caitlin sighed. ‘Indeed, I could’ve. I know that only too well, ma’am.’

  ‘Please call me Daisy,’ Daisy said with a smile. ‘I’m not the lady of the house any more.’

  ‘Thank you. Thank you, Daisy.’ The baby roused and murmured so she rocked her gently in her arms. Caitlin smiled, her large eyes creasing pleasantly. ‘She’s sleeping well today.’

  ‘So what is it you want to tell me? What is it you think I should know?’

  ‘Well, first, that your husband is the father of my child – if you hadn’t already guessed it.’

  Daisy gasped. Yes, she’d considered the possibility, but it still came as a shock.

  ‘Are you surprised?’

  ‘Well, I shouldn’t be, should I?’

  ‘Oh, but that’s only the beginning, Daisy. I don’t think you ever knew what he was like, did you? You couldn’t have, else you would never have married him, I’m sure. A decent lady like yourself.’

  A waitress arrived at the table and asked if they were ready to order.

  ‘Have whatever you fancy to eat, Caitlin. Have a dinner if you’re hungry.’

  ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course I don’t.’

  ‘It’s the kindly way you have with you, Daisy.’ Caitlin looked up at the waitress who seemed to have distanced herself from the girl, as if she might catch a whiff of something unattractive. ‘Do you have a beef dinner left?’

  The waitress said she believed so. Daisy ordered a slice of fruit cake for herself and a pot of tea for two.

  ‘What about the baby?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Oh, if she wakes up she’ll take some of my potato if I mash it up, that she will.’

  ‘Fancy meeting up with you again, Caitlin,’ Daisy went on. ‘You were the last person I expected to see.’

  Caitlin looked guiltily at Daisy. ‘I’m so sorry, ma’am – Daisy, I mean – over what happened …’

  ‘Please, no more apologies, Caitlin. Apologies aren’t warranted. You were the second best thing that ever happened to me.’

  Caitlin smiled, more comfortable with Daisy after her reassurance. ‘The second best?… Ah, I suppose the first best was your artist friend?’

  ‘You’re well informed.’

  ‘Lawson kept me informed … then … At the time, I was pleased that you left. I thought it would leave the door open for me. How stupid I was …’

  ‘So where are you living, Caitlin? It must be difficult for a young mother on her own.’

  ‘Oh, I rent a room.’

  ‘And do you work?’

  ‘No … I have to beg. I’m one of the dregs of society now.’

  ‘You beg? Oh, Caitlin …’

  ‘But I’ve not always begged. When I left your house Lawson found me a job as a maid at his bawdy house—’

  ‘Bawdy house?’ Daisy repeated questioningly. ‘You mean that house he kept in Netherton for his goings-on?’

  ‘No, not that one. He has this house in Downing Street, by the castle … Didn’t you know? He rents the rooms by the hour to the well-to-do men who need somewhere to do their dirty business with their fancy women. It’s a bit like a hotel. There’s a couple of small dining rooms where they entertain their women before they take them to bed. There’s always drink available … other things too …’

  ‘I never heard of such a thing,’ Daisy exclaimed. ‘I knew he had some properties other than the ones he rented to families. I didn’t know he had a bawdy house.’

  Caitlin looked at Daisy with sympathy in her expression. ‘Goodness, Daisy, you don’t know anything, do you?’

  ‘So, which well-to-do folk go there – to this bawdy house – with their fancy women?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know them all for sure. Important people who expect absolute discretion. There was a lawyer, I was told. One or two bigwigs from the town hall … wealthy factory owners …’

  ‘Did you ever hear of a man called Alexander Gibson?’

  ‘Oh, him! Yes, I remember him. He was often there. He liked very young girls.’

  ‘Mmm. That is no surprise … What about Mr Jeremiah Cookson?’

  ‘He used to go there as well … and his son, Robert Cookson … Though they never seemed to be there at the same time. I expect Fanny used to see to it that they never encountered one another. I guess it could have been embarrassing.’

  ‘Fanny? Did you say Fanny?’

  ‘Yes. Fanny Lampitt. She was Lawson’s housekeeper there. She ran the place for him.’

  The waitress returned with Caitlin’s dinner, Daisy’s piece of cake and the pot of tea, and placed them on the table. Daisy thanked her.

  ‘Caitlin, would you like me to hold the baby while you eat?’

  ‘Oh, would you mind? That’s very kind.’

  She passed the baby to Daisy who cradled her in her arms, looking down at the child curiously to ascertain whether it bore any resemblance to Lawson.

  ‘I remember Fanny Lampitt,’ Daisy said, looking up again as Caitlin sprinkled her dinner with salt and pepper. ‘The very first night I met Lawson she was with him. She spent a lot of time that evening with Robert Cookson.’

  ‘Yes, I understand he was one of her favourite clients.’

  ‘Clients?’ Daisy queried.

  ‘Yes, she was a prostitute. As well as looking after the bawdy house she plied her trade there as well. Only very select clients though, you unders
tand. She wasn’t on her back all the time, like some of the girls I knew.’

  Daisy looked astounded.

  ‘Didn’t you know?’

  ‘Caitlin, I don’t know anything. Please tell me. What has been going on?’ Caitlin was ravenously tucking into her meal … ‘No, it can wait till you’ve finished eating.’

  ‘Besides the bawdy house, Lawson runs three brothels,’ Caitlin announced when she’d finished her food and wiped her mouth.

  ‘Three brothels?’ Daisy was aware that in her astonishment she was repeating everything Caitlin said.

  ‘Oh, yes. Scattered about the borough, so they are. Well, as I think you know, I fell head over heels for Lawson. I met him at a cock and hen night in the town and we got talking. This was before you married him. Well, to be sure he was great fun and he had such a way with him … It was the first time I’d ever been with a man and till that moment I was more wholesome than the blessed Virgin herself. He took me to that house in Netherton. After that my life was changed. I was besotted and I couldn’t wait till the next time he took me there. I expect he could see how much in love with him I was, that I’d do anything for him … Then, one night – it was after you’d left him and I was working as a maid in this bawdy house – he said he didn’t think I loved him. He was testing me, of course. I see that now. When I said, “Of course I do”, he said I was to prove it.’

  ‘And how were you to prove it?’

  ‘He wanted me to go to bed with somebody else. If I would do that, it would be proof, he said. He said there was a man in the house – a friend of his – who wanted me. He said if I wouldn’t, it’d be proof enough that I didn’t love him. I said, “How can I go to bed with another man?” I said. “I only want to go to bed with you. I love only you,” I said. “What if I want you to?” he said. “Won’t you do it for me?”

  ‘Well, Daisy, I didn’t know what to do and that’s the gospel truth. I was torn. Anyway, he pulled out of his pocket this little packet containing powder – dope, he called it – and mixed it with some gin we were drinking. “Drink that,” he said, “it’ll make you feel all nice and relaxed. Like being in Elysium,” he said. I remember his words so well. So I drank it. Before I knew it I felt so nice, just like he said I would – different to how I’d ever felt before. I can’t describe it. The world seemed so warm and benign and I felt as though nothing could harm me. It was such a lovely feeling, Daisy. I felt like a contented kitten that really had found its perfect home. And I had the urge to make love as well, like never before … He took me to this room and said I was to do whatever his friend wanted. After a while this man came in. I didn’t know him from Adam. I never saw him again after, either. But he stripped my clothes off me and I just lay there, smiling contentedly – I was in paradise, remember, this Elysium, so warm and comfortable – and he took his own clothes off as well. He lay on the bed with me and he messed about with me for ages, feeling me all over, kissing me everywhere … It was nice … Then he had me … I was quite happy for him to have me. As I recall, it was very pleasant. And nothing could harm me, remember – I was cocooned from harm.

  ‘Next day I woke up and thought it had all been a pleasant, erotic dream. Then Lawson came in and kissed me and thanked me for going to bed with his friend. I looked around me. The bedroom was strange – not my room – but I did have this recollection of spending the night there. I really can’t remember how I felt when Lawson thanked me though – whether I was pleased I’d proved my love and that he was appreciative, or what. But I knew one thing for certain – I wanted some more of that dope.

  ‘Of course, it happened again quite soon after. And so that I could have some more dope I agreed to it readily. It wasn’t long before I was pleading for dope. Lawson said I would have to earn it. I can see now that he wasn’t interested in me for himself any more. So he moved me from his bawdy house and took me in his gig to another house that was obviously one of his brothels. There I spent most of my time on my back underneath some of the most grotesque creatures imaginable. In my lucid moments I realised I had descended to the level of a whore, but I felt no shame. It was worth it, Daisy. It was worth being poked up hill and down dale till I was sore, by all those disgusting men, just to get my dope.’

  ‘So if you were working as a prostitute, Caitlin,’ Daisy said, ‘I presume he paid you? Some folk reckon it’s a job of work, after all.’

  ‘I never got a penny. But I didn’t need money. Everything was found, my food, my drink. I was warm, I had my own bed which I shared, as I said, with every filthy, dirty Tom, Dick and Harry in the borough and beyond. But most of all I had my regular dope which he was happy to provide for as long as I earned money for him. Quite a few of his girls were on dope as far as I could see. Once decent girls, like me I imagine, who’d fallen for his evil charms.’

  ‘How many girls were there in his brothels?’

  ‘Oh, Lord knows. Eight in the house I lived in.’

  ‘Eight?’

  ‘But then, Daisy, after a while, it was obvious I was pregnant. One or two men liked me with a big belly like that, and he kept me on for a while. But as my time drew closer he threw me out. He said I was no use to him any more.’

  ‘Nothing surprises me any more about Lawson Maddox,’ Daisy proclaimed indignantly. ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘Well to be sure I had nowhere to go. My mother had disowned me, remember. Eventually I was picked up out of the gutter, a pathetic, stinking mess of pain and shivering incontinence. They took me to the workhouse. I had my baby there and they helped me to overcome the awful, painful craving for dope. They explained that my baby was just as addicted as I was. I endured hell, Daisy, and so did she …’ Caitlin looked lovingly at the child back in her arms again. ‘There’s no hell like it when you can’t get it, believe me. But I was determined never to touch that stuff again. I began to realise what a whore it had turned me into. I was never brought up to live my life like that. We were a respectable, God-fearing family. After a few months in the workhouse they could see I was getting better and they agreed to discharge me, providing I gave up prostitution, kept off the dope and could find proper work. Well, I stopped all that … Mind you, I could so easily go back on the dope if I could afford it, but I’m determined not to. Never … But I haven’t found work yet. So I have to beg …’

  ‘How can you be sure the baby is Lawson’s, after so many men?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘I just know. I was pregnant even before he made me lie with other men. I hadn’t been with anybody else then. You know when you’re pregnant, Daisy. And it could only have been his child.’

  ‘I take it Lawson doesn’t provide for the baby?’

  ‘What a joke!’ Caitlin said sarcastically. ‘He wouldn’t even acknowledge her existence.’

  ‘Well, perhaps he should … Tell me … Did you ever come across a girl younger than you called Sarah Drake?’

  ‘The name doesn’t ring a bell.’

  Caitlin’s ignorance of Sarah was not proof that Sarah hadn’t been subjected to the same ordeals, but the symptoms they shared were sadly too similar to be discounted. Caitlin was perhaps luckier; she’d reared her baby and seemed to have successfully broken the opium habit. But Lawson’s callousness, his utter lack of concern for the well-being of the girls he seduced, was criminal. Surely she could have him arrested. He would surely stand trial. And a conviction might even ensure a speedy divorce.

  ‘Would you do me a favour, Caitlin?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘I think I owe you one.’

  ‘It’s my opinion that Lawson should stand trial for what he’s done, not only to you but to other girls as well. And I think I know another, besides you. Would you come with me to the police station tomorrow? I want to report him. I want to make sure he pays the penalty for what he’s doing.’

  Caitlin looked reticent. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Daisy … Once they know I’ve been a prostitute they’ll arrest me, to be sure.’

  ‘No, they won’t. Not if you give evidence a
gainst him. You’re a victim, Caitlin. You’re also a witness. An important witness. Meet me at eleven outside here. I’ll buy you dinner again later.’

  Caitlin smiled. ‘Very well … You see how important my dinner is to me now. When I was taking that stuff I barely ate at all. I must be getting better.’

  ‘Well here’s a half-sovereign to buy you some supper and help you to continue with your recovery.’

  ‘Thank you, Daisy,’ Caitlin said, taking the small coin. ‘You’re so very kind. There’ll be no dope, though. Not any more. I promise. I have a baby to care for.’

  Chapter 30

  Daisy returned home and put away her shopping. She went upstairs and checked, first of all, on her father. She was concerned about him. His breathing had become laboured, he was feverish and refusing to eat.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Father?’

  Titus nodded from his pillow, failing to open his eyes.

  Back downstairs Daisy brewed a pot of tea, poured out three cups, added milk and sugar, put them on a tray and took them upstairs. She took one to Sarah, then one to her father and sat him up. Still he did not open his eyes, as if to do so would bring into view the viciously disappointing world from which he was anxious to escape.

  ‘If you’re no better tomorrow I shall ask Dr McCaskie to call,’ she told him as she pressed the cup gently to his lips.

  Titus sipped indifferently at the hot, sweet tea, and some dribbled down his chin. Dr McCaskie could not cure him now. Nothing could cure him. He had suffered enough over the years; consumption, severe gout, the painful rift in his family, a once-decent daughter turned slut and opium addict. But the worst suffering of all was this unbearable heartbreak over the loss of his beloved Mary … If such was the joy of living he would rather be dead. He would much rather be dead …

  Daisy knew she was not going to get any conversation out of him. He was not interested. He inhabited his own world these days and evidently preferred its seclusion. She spoke to him as she would to a child, expecting no reply, while he slurped the tea little by little. Afterwards, she held his hand briefly and felt a faint squeeze of affection from him.

 

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