Fallen Angels

by Val Wood

  He scratched his chin, which was beginning to grow dark and slightly bristly, though as yet he had never had to shave. ‘I told you that I hadn’t seen Fowler, didn’t I? Well, to begin with, ’hoss came back on its own, but later on … later on, Fowler did come back. He was fair staggering. I thought he was drunk onny he wasn’t; he said that he’d had to leave ’cart somewhere cos it had got stuck and Dobbin had bolted and he’d had to walk back. It took him a long time, I think, cos he’s not very fit. And then …’ He hesitated, unsure of whether he should tell the truth. ‘Then he telled me that he’d sold Ma in Hull Market Place, and I was that mad I hit him.’

  ‘Did you, Ted?’ Daisy’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘Did you really?’

  ‘Aye.’ He nodded, pressing his lips together. ‘I did. And then we had a fight. And then … well, neither of us noticed where we were going and it was that wet and clarty on ’cliff top we were slithering about all over ’place.’ He turned to look at her. ‘And then he went ower. Fell ower ’cliff and into ’sea. I didn’t mean it to happen,’ he said earnestly. ‘And if there hadn’t been a high tide he’d have been all right and just landed on ’sands. But there was, and – and he must have been swept away cos I couldn’t see him.’

  Daisy stared open-mouthed at her brother. ‘So,’ she breathed, ‘is he – is he dead?’

  Ted hunched his shoulders up to his ears. ‘Dunno. I suppose so. Drowned. He must be. Tide was running high. A spring surge, I think. Anyway, that’s not all. I decided that I’d leave in case anybody found his body and thought I’d done him in, when really it was an accident; and I was just riding away on ’owd hoss when I heard this crash, and when I looked back I saw that ’cliff in front of ’cottage had slithered ower and ’front door was swinging ower ’edge.’ He paused for breath. ‘So I reckon it’ll all have gone ower by now and folks’ll think that’s how Fowler died – if they ever find him.’

  Daisy said nothing for a moment but sat pondering. Then she said in a small voice, ‘I’m not sorry. I didn’t like him.’ She turned to look at Ted. ‘But do you think you’d be blamed for it? Cos I’d swear that you wouldn’t ever do owt like that!’

  ‘But you weren’t there, Daisy,’ he said miserably. ‘So you wouldn’t know.’ He handed her the empty plate which he had been clutching. ‘So I’ll have to leave. Run away to sea where nobody’ll know me.’

  ‘But what about Dobbin?’ she asked, stroking the horse’s neck. ‘What’ll you do about him?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said irritably. ‘I’ve got more to think about than ’blooming owd hoss!’

  They both sat in silence for a few minutes, then Daisy said, ‘You could sell him to ’gypsies. I saw them in ’market when we first came.’

  ‘What?’ Ted raised his head to look at her. ‘Are you still on about ’damned hoss?’ Apologetically he patted Dobbin’s neck.

  ‘It’s just that you’ll need some money,’ she said, ‘and you can’t tek him with you if you’re going to sea, and me and Ma won’t want him cos we’ll have to find work.’

  He saw the sense in what she was saying although he wouldn’t have admitted it. ‘I can’t wait till next market day,’ he groused. ‘I’ll have to be off today.’

  ‘There’s Oliver,’ she said suddenly. ‘Let’s ask him.’ Before he could stop her she was running across the square to catch Oliver before he went inside the shop.

  ‘This is my brother,’ she told him, bringing him across, and Ted stood up from the wall and nodded to him. ‘He’s going to sea and needs to sell our old horse. Where do you think he should go?’

  Oliver looked doubtfully at Dobbin. ‘I don’t think you’ll get much for him,’ he said. ‘Does he pull a rully or—’

  ‘Aye, he’s a good strong hoss,’ Ted was quick to point out. ‘He’s a bit thin, I know, but he’s got stamina. He’s good for a few years yet.’

  Oliver scratched his dark head. ‘There’s a horse dealer in Dagger Lane, or there’s the gypsies …’

  ‘See, I told you,’ Daisy said to Ted. ‘But he can’t wait until market day,’ she explained to Oliver.

  ‘He doesn’t need to. They camp on Dock Green. I’ll take you if you like,’ he told Ted. ‘It’s not far.’

  Ted agreed, and whilst Oliver slipped back to tell his father where he was going he mused that he would rather sell Dobbin to the gypsies, because the horse dealer might ask questions about where the horse had come from. And, he thought, with a tension tightening inside him, the horse wasn’t really his to sell as it had belonged to Billy Fowler.

  Daisy came too, walking between the two boys and glancing up from time to time at each of them. Ted walked with his head down, looking at his boots and leading Dobbin by the reins, but Oliver walked tall and told them about Dock Green. ‘It’s used for all kinds of events,’ he said as they went along the Market Place and towards Castle Street. ‘People like to walk there on a Sunday to hear the speakers giving out their opinions, and then in October the Hull Fair comes and pitches there. You’d like that, Daisy.’ He looked down at her, smiling. ‘It’s great fun. The gypsies camp on the edge of Dock Green and most of them leave after the fair is over, but some stay and they buy and sell horses.’

  The grassy area was mostly empty with just a few schoolboys kicking a ball about, but pitched right on the edge were a few tents, or benders as Oliver called them. Several horses and ponies were tied up to stakes in the ground, and there were small cooking fires burning.

  ‘We have a horse to sell,’ Oliver said to a man who came out of one of the benders. ‘Are you interested?’

  The gypsy shook his head and Oliver turned away, but the gypsy called him back. ‘How much d’you want for him? He’s no flesh on him.’

  ‘He’s wiry and strong,’ Ted told him. ‘He’s a good worker.’

  The man came and ran his hands over Dobbin’s flanks and then opened his mouth to look inside. ‘Give you five shillings,’ he said.

  Ted and Oliver both gave a dry laugh, whilst Daisy gave a gasp. ‘He’s worth more’n that,’ she said.

  ‘No thanks,’ Ted said testily. ‘I’m not giving him away!’

  ‘Don’t be in a hurry,’ Oliver muttered to him. ‘They like to bargain. How much are you willing to take?’

  ‘Dunno,’ Ted grunted. ‘But more’n five bob.’

  ‘A guinea?’ Oliver murmured, and when Ted nodded he told the gypsy, ‘We want twenty-one shillings for him. We’ll ask one of the others.’ He’d noticed two other men watching, one of them smoking a pipe and listening and the other, a younger man, eyeing up the horse.

  ‘Seven and sixpence then,’ the first gypsy said, and when Oliver shook his head offered another shilling. Oliver refused again, and the younger of the other gypsies came over.

  ‘I’ll give you ten bob for him,’ he said. ‘He looks sound.’

  Daisy gave a sigh. That’s what the man had paid for her mother. Surely she was worth more than an old horse.

  The first man started to object. ‘This is my deal,’ he said, shaking his fist.

  ‘Twelve and six then,’ Oliver told him, ‘otherwise we sell to your friend here.’

  ‘Twelve shillings. My last offer,’ the gypsy said.

  Oliver glanced at the second gypsy, who shrugged and turned away. He looked at Ted, who nodded. ‘Aye, all right,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I’d mebbe not get more from ’horse dealer.’

  The gypsy counted out the money from his pocket. ‘The saddle and blanket?’ he said. ‘They come with the hoss?’

  ‘You can have ’saddle,’ Ted agreed, ‘but not ’blanket. I might need that.’

  ‘You’ll look after him, won’t you?’ Daisy asked the gypsy, stroking Dobbin for the last time. The man smiled, his teeth white against his dark skin. He patted her fair head. ‘Don’t you worry, little chavi. He’ll have a nice time with the Romanies. We know how to look after our hosses.’

  Oliver turned round to look at the gypsies as they walked away. ‘They’re in cahoots,
’ he told Ted. ‘There’s money changing hands. They’ve got a bargain between them.’

  ‘Aye.’ Ted shrugged. ‘I guessed he was worth more, but I can’t afford to wait.’

  ‘Why the hurry?’ Oliver asked curiously.

  ‘I’ve nowhere to live, and no money,’ Ted answered. ‘That’s why I’m going to try for a ship.’

  ‘But you’ve no experience? Did – erm, did your stepfather want rid of you too?’

  ‘Yeh,’ Ted answered vaguely. ‘At least, he allus did; but he didn’t come back and now ’cottage has fallen into ’sea.’

  ‘Fallen into the sea!’ Oliver looked amazed. ‘Why? How?’

  ‘It’s been standing on ’edge of ’cliff ever since we went to live there,’ Daisy interjected. ‘Ma was allus afraid of it going over with us in it. It’s ’erosion,’ she explained. ‘Most of ’village has gone over, even ’vicarage. But they’re building some new houses further back for when ’railway line comes to Withernsea,’ she finished, pleased to be able to impart some knowledge.

  Ted grunted. ‘If it comes,’ he said. ‘Why would folk want to come to that miserable place?’

  ‘Cos of fresh air,’ she said indignantly. ‘And for town bairns to play on ’sands.’

  Oliver laughed. ‘And to see the sea! I’ve never seen it. If the railway goes to Withernsea I’ll definitely go, Daisy, and perhaps you’d come with me to show me the sights?’

  She gazed adoringly at him. The railway line wouldn’t be coming for ages. It was only being talked about. But if Oliver meant what he said, then it implied that they would still be friends. She nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said huskily. ‘Course I will.’

  ‘Well I’ll not be here,’ Ted said, lifting his chin in a determined manner. ‘I’ll be sailing on ’sea by then, and not just ’German Ocean either. I’ll be on other seas as well; sailing round ’world.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘It’s not a brothel!’ Jamie objected. ‘It’s a house of pleasure.’

  ‘Pleasure!’ Lily gasped. ‘Who for? Not for ’poor lasses who work here it isn’t!’

  ‘They don’t have to come,’ he barked back. ‘They can stop out on ’streets if they want to, but they’d rather be here where it’s warm than out there in ’rain and cold. Ask her.’ He pointed to the girl on the bed. ‘Ask her where she’d rather be!’

  The girl pulled herself up, her head against a greasy-looking pillow. ‘I’d rather be inside than out there.’ She waved a thumb towards the window. ‘But what I’d really like is my own little house and a husband to look after me.’

  ‘Huh!’ Lily said contemptuously. ‘Cry for the moon, you might as well. Surely there’s a better way to make a living?’

  ‘Show me it then,’ the girl pouted. ‘Cos I don’t know of one.’

  Lily was silenced. She didn’t know of one either, not yet at any rate. But I don’t know the town; I don’t know what there is here. I’m a stranger, a countrywoman.

  ‘Do you want to stop tonight or not?’ Jamie asked her. ‘There’s plenty of room. We’ll talk tomorrow.’ He gave a shrug. ‘Then if you want to leave, you can.’ He gazed at her from sly blue eyes. ‘But don’t forget you owe me ten bob before you go.’

  She took in a breath. ‘Where would I get that sort of money?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ His mouth lifted but he wasn’t smiling. ‘I paid out in good faith. Rescued you from that fellow you called a husband, so you owe me.’

  He turned to go and this time he did smile as he reached the door. ‘Onny kidding, Lily.’ He gave her a wink. ‘But you and me, we could work well together. Think about it.’ He opened the door, nodded to the girl on the bed and left.

  ‘Scum!’ Lily muttered.

  ‘He is,’ the girl said. ‘And if you owe him he’ll want it back, never mind him saying he’s onny kidding. But on ’other hand, he’s not as bad as some. He’s never violent towards his girls – at least …’ She hesitated. ‘There were some rumours a while back, but I don’t know if they were true.’

  She swung her legs off the bed. ‘His ma was on ’streets. Jamie used to find her customers—’

  ‘What?’ Lily said in disgust. ‘His own mother?’

  The girl nodded. ‘He had grand plans for starting up a place like this and putting her in charge.’ She laughed. ‘But then his ma married one of her customers and went all respectable. A grocer’s wife she is now and Jamie’s banned from seeing her.’ She sighed. ‘I wish one of my customers would marry me.’

  ‘What’s your name?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Alice,’ she said. ‘I used to work here when ’other fellow and his madam had it!’ She screwed up her lips. ‘Now they were scum!’

  ‘His madam?’ Lily said. ‘What do you mean?’

  Alice glanced at her and smiled; she was pretty, Lily thought, but very pale, with shadows beneath her blue eyes. ‘My, you are an innocent, aren’t you? Miss Emerald we had to call her, though it wasn’t her real name, o’ course. My, you should’ve seen her.’ She grinned. ‘Thick red hair, fancy clothes, and she allus wore an emerald round her neck. Don’t know if it was real. She ran ’place, kept ’customers sweet and looked after ’money. But he got into some kind of trouble and they had to leave town. I heard that Jamie offered to pay ’rent that was owed if he could take it over.’

  ‘And, erm, has Jamie got many girls living here?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Just me at ’minute.’ Alice stretched her arms above her head. ‘A couple of others have gone away, shall we say. But they’ll be back. They’ll be back when they need to eat or are cold working out on ’streets.’

  ‘I met some girls,’ Lily said slowly. ‘When I was at ’home for fallen women. It was a mistake,’ she added hastily when she saw Alice’s eyes widen. ‘I shouldn’t have been tekken there. I’d had a miscarriage, but it was my husband’s child. He abandoned me and my daughter. But these girls,’ she went on. ‘They were street girls. Cherie, one of them was called, and she was onny young—’

  ‘I know her,’ Alice said, ‘and her friend Lizzie. They’ll not stop there; them good folk think they’ll go home or get other jobs, but they won’t. Mark my words,’ she said seriously, ‘they’ll be back on ’streets afore you can say Jack Robinson. Anyway, I’ve got to get ready for work. But I’ll show you round first if you like. You can have ’pick of ’rooms if you’re stopping.’ She looked directly at Lily. ‘You don’t seem ’type, somehow. How is it that Jamie found you? Were you living rough?’

  Lily heaved a breath. ‘Not exactly. My husband put me up for sale in ’Market Place. It was Jamie who bought me.’

  Alice stared. ‘Was that ’ten bob Jamie was talking about? God! Is that all he thought you were worth? Your husband, I mean?’

  ‘It’s all he was offered. It seems wives are worthless.’

  ‘Women, you mean!’ Alice said sourly. ‘My da said I was worthless when he threw me out. Mind you, I was glad to go. I didn’t want to end up like my ma. Just a drudge, she was.’

  Lily’s mind was ticking. ‘Do you reckon that Hope House has ’right idea? They mean well, those women who run it, I’m sure; but ’girls who go there seem to be just gathering their health and strength before they go back on ’streets again.’

  ‘Yeh. It’s not as if it’s their own place,’ Alice said. ‘They’re not comfortable there. They can’t call it home, can they? They’re under an obligation to keep on ’straight and narrow. I know there’s some as will welcome ’chance, but most will leave, like you say, and go back to work on ’streets again.’

  ‘But if they were somewhere where they were with folks they could trust and be comfortable with,’ Lily said slowly as an idea formed, ‘and if ’men they met were vetted first so that they were not afraid of being hurt—’

  ‘Look, I’ll have to go,’ Alice interrupted, pulling on a grubby skirt. ‘All ’best spots will have gone. I’ll show you where everything is. There’s a privy out at ’back. We share it with ’houses on either side. On ’top floo
r there’s an attic with a tin bath if you want to haul water up there, and, as I said, tek your pick of ’rooms. They’re all a bit scruffy, not been cleaned in years, and there’s bedding in a cupboard.’

  She seemed to be in a hurry so Lily told her that she would find her own way round the house. It was taken for granted that she would stay the night. Where else would I go? she thought. At least I’ll have a bed to sleep in. And then I’ll think of what to do tomorrow.

  To her eyes the house was enormous. There were three rooms downstairs which had been turned into bedrooms, a fourth which held a large wooden table and cupboards, and then a very dirty kitchen with a stone sink and an ancient cooking range. All the rooms had oil lamps in them and the kitchen had candlesticks and holders on every surface – all of which were also covered in thick candle wax.

  Upstairs on the first floor were a further three bedrooms, with washstands and free-standing cupboards, which when Lily opened them were found to contain grubby finery, gowns and shawls, and off-white petticoats. All the rooms smelt strongly of stale perfume.

  On the attic floor were two more rooms. One had been used as a store room and was piled with broken chairs, old cushions and pillows with the feathers spilling out of the ticking; the other had a tin bath half full of scummy water standing in the middle of the floor, with a heap of grey sheets or towels beside it.

  Lily shook her head. ‘This could be a palace,’ she murmured. ‘It must have been somebody’s home at one time, and now it’s come to this.’ She went across to a window which faced on to the square and looked down. There were a lot of people loitering about, both men and women. Some of the women were sitting on the steps of the houses and many of them were barefoot and bare-legged and sitting in what Lily thought a provocative manner with their skirts pulled up to their knees.

  As she watched, she saw men approach them and some of them were invited into the houses. Others linked arms with the women and walked away, laughing and shouting to their companions. Some of the men looked like seamen, dressed in wide trousers and short reefer jackets, and many of them had a dark foreign look about them.