by Val Wood
‘What’s she up to?’ Billy muttered. ‘If she brings ’law here …’
‘She’s fetching me water,’ she barked at him. ‘For God’s sake, Billy. Unfasten this rope. It’s cutting me in half.’
‘Not likely,’ he said. ‘I know you. You’d run off, screaming and shouting for ’constable.’
‘You’ve said that ’law won’t do anything, so why would I send for ’constable? Anyway,’ she added bitterly, ‘they’re all men so they’d do nowt.’
‘That’s right.’ Billy stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited for Daisy to come back, which she did a few minutes later, bringing a brimming cup of water.
Lily drank it in one quaff and, breathing heavily, said, ‘I’m starting in labour.’
‘Don’t give me that,’ he snapped. ‘It’s just an excuse. You’re not due.’ He wrapped the rope round his wrist and, lifting both hands to cup his mouth, began to shout.
‘Wife for sale! Wife for sale! Fine specimen of womanhood. Sound in wind and limb. Good teeth; a bit proud but a strong master can soon knock that out of her. Wife for sale! Wife for sale!’
Lily screamed at him and yanked on the rope, nearly pulling him off balance. ‘Hellhound. Viper. Scum!’ She launched herself at him, and, being above him on the box, knocked him to the ground, falling on top of him and flailing him savagely with her fists.
A crowd gathered, all talking excitedly and urging others to come and watch the scene. ‘How much d’you want for her, mister?’ somebody called out. ‘Or will you pay ’em to tek her away?’
Billy struggled to stand up and dragged Lily to her feet. ‘I’ll tek five guineas,’ he said, shrugging into his coat. ‘She’s a good worker when she’s a mind, and childbearer,’ he added. ‘She’s got a girl here,’ he pointed to Daisy, ‘nearly ready for work. She’s included in ’price.’
Some of the men muttered together, pursing their lips and discussing whether she was a bargain.
‘It’s against ’law,’ a woman’s voice called out. ‘And you should be ashamed o’ yoursen.’
There was loud guffawing amongst the men. ‘Wonder how much I’d get for mine,’ a man laughed. ‘I’d be prepared to give her away, ’cept she warms my bed.’
There was much ribald comment mingled with the voices of women berating them, and then the crowd parted as a uniformed constable appeared on the scene.
‘What’s going on here?’ He wore a blue tailcoat fastened with metal buttons, matching blue trousers and a top hat. He nonchalantly swung a wooden baton in one hand. ‘I’d call it an affray.’
‘No, it’s not, constable.’ Billy spoke up. ‘I’m within my rights. There’s nowt to say that I can’t sell my wife if I want to. She’s part of my goods and chattels.’ He ducked as Lily took a swipe at him. ‘There was a case some years back where a man sold his wife at Hull market.’
The constable took a notepad and a stub of pencil from his pocket. ‘Name?’
‘Lily Fowler,’ Billy said. ‘Formerly Leigh-Maddeson.’
‘Why’d she change her name?’ the constable asked.
Billy gazed blankly at him. ‘Cos she got married. That’s what women do. They change their names.’
‘But why did she change her name from Lee to Lily?’ the constable persisted.
‘I didn’t,’ Lily said in exasperation. ‘Leigh was a middle name! Now, get on with it and arrest this man who, in a moment of madness, I agreed to marry and who is now off his head and should be taken to ’asylum!’
‘He seems perfectly sane to me.’ The officer put away his writing materials. ‘And as far as I know, perfectly within his rights to sell you if he should so wish.’
The crowd nodded, murmuring in agreement. ‘Quite right.’ ‘Took her on as lawful wedded wife.’ ‘Can sell her just ’same as an old chair.’ ‘Or a horse or a cow, it’s all ’same.’
‘What am I bid?’ Billy climbed up on the wooden box, holding Lily tight by the rope.
Daisy clung on to her mother’s skirt. ‘Are you all right, Ma?’ she whispered. ‘What are we to do?’
Lily didn’t answer. The fall from the box had left her breathless and once more the pain in her back struck deep.
‘Come on!’ Billy urged. ‘She’s a fine specimen of womanhood. Who’ll give me five guineas?’
‘Sixpence,’ a man called out amid general laughter. ‘Though I don’t know what my missus’d say if I took her home.’
‘Is she good in bed?’ a young voice shouted and Billy turned towards the sound.
‘Now, young fellow, wherever you are. Things like that are not discussed in public,’ he said disapprovingly. But then he winked, shaped a woman’s curves with his free hand and made a suggestive movement with his hips.
‘What’s this? What’s happening?’ Another voice rose above the laughter. ‘Who’s the woman?’
Some of the crowd drew back to let a slim, palefaced man through. ‘Why’s she tied up?’ he asked. ‘Has she stolen summat?’
‘No, sir,’ Billy answered. ‘Never in her life. She’s honest through and through. Got a temper on her, though, which needs to be curbed, and I’ve not mastered that, which is why I’m selling her. She needs a younger man than me to subdue her. I want a quiet life.’ He dropped his voice to a wheedling tone. ‘She’s too strong-willed for me. But look at her.’ He turned to Lily. ‘Ain’t she a beauty?’
Lily lifted her chin and stared straight back at the man who was looking at her. Though he was quite handsome, he had an angular arrogant face and she thought that if he paid out money for her, she’d be off as soon as the rope was loosened. She and Daisy. But she was feeling very queasy and wondered if she could outrun anybody. Dammit, she thought uneasily. I’m starting in labour and it’s far too early. I’ll lose ’bairn for sure, but mebbe that won’t be a bad thing under ’circumstances.
‘Give you five shillings for her,’ the man called out.
‘Come now, sir. That’s an insult if ever I heard one.’ Billy scowled. ‘Good-looking woman like this! No, two guineas then. Young lass is included.’
‘Don’t want the girl, she’s too young.’ The man turned away.
‘Now, sir,’ Billy said hastily, thinking that this was the only offer he’d had. ‘Think of what a bargain. Young lass is nearly ready for work. Is ready in fact,’ he assured the crowd in general. ‘It’s just that her ma wanted her to stay by her, but she’s old enough at twelve.’
Daisy shook her head in dismay. She wasn’t yet twelve. And she didn’t want to leave her ma. What would become of her?
‘Ten shillings then,’ the man called out. ‘But without ’girl. I don’t tek bairns.’ He turned and glared at the crowd who were muttering against him. ‘I don’t deal wi’ childre’.’
‘She comes wi’ me!’ Lily called out. She wanted this over and done with so that she could go and lie down somewhere. ‘We’ll both come for ten shillings and work for our keep.’
Billy looked baffled. What was happening? Somehow Lily was taking charge. ‘A guinea then,’ he shouted. ‘And all right, I’ll keep ’girl and tek her back wi’ me.’
‘No!’ Daisy shrieked. ‘I won’t go. I’m stopping wi’ my ma!’
‘Twenty shillings, sir,’ Billy said desperately. ‘There you are, a bargain.’ If he didn’t sell her, what would he do with her? She’d be a hellcat for sure. ‘Fifteen, then.’
The stranger came towards them, jingling money in his pocket. ‘Ten bob. Tek it or leave it.’
‘Tek it!’ someone in the crowd shouted. ‘You’ll not do better’n that. Folks in Hull don’t part easy wi’ their money.’
Billy hesitated. He didn’t want to take Lily home; she’d make his life a misery and he’d be the laughing stock of Holderness.
‘Right! Done,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘You strike a hard bargain, mister.’
‘And you’re a blackguard,’ the man said, handing over ten shillings, and adding in a whisper, ‘It takes one to know another. Now get out of town, ba
ck to whichever sewer you came from.’
Billy pocketed the money and, with a furtive glance at Lily, stepped off the box, threw the end of the rope to the buyer and scurried away.
Lily made to go after him, but the man held her back. ‘Swine!’ she screeched at Billy’s back. ‘Cockroach! Get back to your dunghill! I hope you fall into ’sea.’ She stopped short in her shouts of abuse as another pain racked her and she doubled over. ‘Don’t know who you are, mister, but I need some help.’
‘Jamie’s the name,’ he said, frowning. ‘What’s up wi’ you? Are you sick?’
‘I’m sick all right,’ she gasped. ‘Sick to death o’ men and Billy Fowler in particular.’ She adjusted her shawl and took a deep breath. ‘What you lookin’ at?’
Jamie lifted her shawl. ‘You’re pregnant,’ he said accusingly. ‘He didn’t say you were pregnant. You’re no good to me!’
She lifted her hand and struck him across his face. ‘I didn’t ask to come here. You got what you deserved for your ten bob. You’re no better than Billy Fowler! Go after him and ask for your money back and I hope you kill each other ower it.’
He stroked his reddened cheek. ‘There’s no wonder he wanted shut o’ you!’ He looked her up and down. ‘Come and find me when you’re rid of ’bairn. I might have a job for you.’
‘Don’t, missis.’ A woman’s voice came from the middle of the dwindling crowd. ‘You’ll be worse off than you were afore.’ The speaker disappeared in a flurry of skirts and shawls. Jamie shrugged.
‘Suit yourself.’ He glanced down at Daisy. ‘Better take care o’ your ma. There’s a chemist across ’street. He might be able to help.’ He turned abruptly and left, pushing his way through the crowd.
Lily sank to the ground. ‘Daisy,’ she groaned, ‘get me somebody, quick. I’m losing ’babby.’
CHAPTER THREE
Oliver Walker peered between the coloured glass jars and bottles that were sitting on shelves in his father’s shop window. Something was going on across King Street. A crowd had gathered and he stood on tiptoe, craning his neck, but could only see the top of a woman’s head: her shawl, in fact, for he couldn’t see her face.
‘Something’s happening out there,’ he told his father. ‘There are a lot of people milling about. And not just the market people.’
‘A trader?’ His father carefully poured a dark liquid from a large bottle into a small one, and then put a cork in the top. ‘Or a preacher telling them to save their souls?’
‘Save whose souls?’ Oliver’s mother, Martha, came into the shop from an inner door with a shopping basket over her arm, wearing an outdoor coat. ‘There’s nobody out there worth saving!’
‘Oh, come now, my dear,’ her husband gently chided. ‘That’s a little harsh.’
‘Riff-raff!’ She grimaced. ‘From ’bottom of ’heap, most of them. I’m going shopping,’ she declared. ‘I’ll be back in an hour.’
Oliver raised his eyebrows at his father as she went out of the door, but his father didn’t respond. Charles Walker was used to his wife’s opinions and although he didn’t approve of most of them he had learned over the years to mainly disregard them. It made for a quieter life, he had discovered.
‘There’s a man there now,’ Oliver commented, still looking out. ‘He must be standing on a box. I could see a woman before.’
His father came and stood beside him. ‘Preacher,’ he said. ‘There was someone there earlier. But that poor fellow didn’t get a crowd. He just stood there talking to himself.’
‘That’s why I don’t think it’s a preacher,’ Oliver said. ‘They never get such a crowd. This fellow must be selling something special to attract so many people.’
‘Go and see then, if you want to,’ his father smiled, indulging his sixteen-year-old son. ‘But we must get these mixtures made up. Customers will be coming in for them.’
‘All right.’ Oliver took off his white coat and rolled down his sleeves. ‘I’ll just take a look. Shan’t be a minute!’
He dashed out of the shop, setting the bell jingling. A few minutes later he was back. ‘You’ll never guess, Pa! It’s a man selling his wife! Isn’t that appalling? He’s got a rope round her waist, like you would with an animal, but the worst thing is I saw her shawl swing open, and … and I think she’s expecting a child.’
His father put down the spoon with which he had been about to measure a quantity of white powder into a paper cone. ‘You’re not serious!’ he exclaimed. ‘Should we send for a constable?’
Oliver shook his head. ‘There’s one there already, but I don’t think he’s doing anything about it.’
‘It’s surely not possible! It must be against the law.’ His father rubbed his chin. ‘Though something tells me I’ve heard of it happening before. Yes,’ he exclaimed. ‘I have. My father told me about it. A countryman came into Hull and sold his wife; but that must have been – oh, twenty years ago; surely people have more respect these days?’
The door crashed open and his wife looked in. ‘What did I tell you? Riff-raff. There’s a man out there selling his wife! Country folk by ’look of ’em. He’s asking five guineas for her! Disgusting!’ She flew out again, leaving the door open.
Oliver carefully closed it behind her. ‘Is there anything we can do?’
His father looked at him from over the top of his spectacles. ‘No,’ he said. ‘If the constable is there and it’s not against the law – though that would surprise me – then it’s nothing to do with us. Perhaps the wife is willing.’
‘She didn’t seem willing.’ Oliver gave a wry smile. ‘She was calling her husband some very choice names.’ Then his smile faded. ‘There was a little girl with them. She looked very frightened.’
‘How old? Now that would worry me.’ Charles looked grave. ‘It surely wouldn’t be permitted to sell a child. That would be abhorrent.’
‘I don’t know.’ Oliver shrugged. ‘Ten – eleven. She was just a scrap, really. Not much on her.’
‘Mmm. Perhaps they’re desperate. A great many people are. If they’re country folk they’ve perhaps come to town looking for work and found none.’ Charles sighed. ‘Little we can do, I’m afraid.’
They both continued with the job of getting medication ready for their customers, and after a while Oliver glanced out of the window again. ‘They’ve gone,’ he said. ‘At least the crowd has. I wonder what happened.’
‘Ma!’ Daisy bent over her mother. ‘Who can I ask? I can’t leave you here. What shall we do?’
‘Give us a hand up, Daisy,’ Lily said. ‘Pain’s easing a bit.’
Daisy put her hand under her mother’s elbow to help her and Lily leaned against the railings.
‘You all right, missis?’ A woman hailed them and came over. ‘I saw what happened back there. Monsters, both of ’em. I’d hang ’em up by their shirt tails if I had my way.’
Lily gave a contemptuous grimace. ‘I could think of worse things to do to ’em; especially that scabby, sneaking scoundrel of a rogue who’s my husband. If I ever get my hands on him he’ll be sorry.’ She gave the woman a searching glance. ‘I’ve started in labour. Do you know where I could go for help? I’ve no money. Not a penny.’
‘Where do you live?’ the woman asked. ‘Are you from round here?’
Lily shook her head. ‘First time I’ve been. We’re from a place called Seathorne. Near Withernsea,’ she added, seeing the blank expression on the woman’s face. ‘On ’coast,’ she elaborated, when the woman frowned and shrugged.
‘Never heard of it,’ the woman said. ‘What ’you doing here?’
‘I wish I knew,’ Lily groaned. ‘It wasn’t my idea.’
‘Well, I think ’best thing you can do is go to ’workhouse infirmary. They might tek you in till you’ve had ’babby; but I doubt they’d let you stop, not if you’re not from these parts. I’ll show you where it is if you like. It’s not far from here.’
‘Workhouse!’ Lily let out a gasp of anger and frustration
. How had she come to this? ‘I can’t do that! I’ve never sunk so low!’
‘I don’t know where else to suggest. Not if you’ve no money.’ She looked about her meaningfully and then back at Lily. ‘What do you want to do? I can’t hang about. If you don’t want to go, then I’ll have to be off.’
‘No. Wait! I’m sorry,’ Lily said and grimaced as a pain shot through her.
‘You’ll not want to give birth out here!’ The woman seemed anxious. ‘I think you’ll have to be quick.’
‘Yes.’ Daisy took her mother’s arm. ‘We’ll go there. It don’t matter, Ma. Nobody will know us. There’s no shame. It’s not your fault.’
Lily made a huge effort, leaning on Daisy as they followed the stranger across the square and down a street to another, wider street full of shops and banks and imposing offices, until they stopped at a pair of wooden gates outside a dilapidated building. ‘This is never it?’ she said, dismayed at its condition.
‘Aye, it is,’ the woman said. ‘They’ve been on for years about moving it somewhere else, but nowt ever happens. I don’t know what it’s like inside,’ she added. ‘Thank God I’ve managed to avoid it. All ’best, anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to be off. I hope they can help you.’
‘So do I,’ Lily said on a shallow breath, ‘because I don’t think I’ve got long.’
The woman scurried off and by her nervous manner Daisy felt that she wanted to get away from them; that she was frightened of her mother’s giving birth whilst she was there. I’m frightened too, she thought. What if Ma dies? What’ll I do without her? She turned wide eyes to her mother. ‘Shall I knock, Ma, or shall we just go in?’
The gates were half open and people were going in and out. Poor, ragged people, Daisy saw. They looked as if all hope had been knocked out of them.
‘We’ll go in,’ her mother said. ‘See if there’s anybody in authority. Please God, they’ll tek me.’
As they went through the gate into a large yard somebody called to them. Down some wooden steps which led from a hay loft, a young lame boy was being hauled by his scruff by a thin-faced shabby-looking man. The man dropped the boy, who scurried off, and shouted at them. ‘Who are you? You’re not resident here.’
