Fallen Angels

by Val Wood

  ‘A housekeeping position isn’t to be sneezed at,’ Mrs Walker said sharply. ‘There’s many a woman would be glad of a job like that.’

  ‘Yes, but Daisy—’ Lily began.

  ‘Where is this position? Would it be with anybody I know?’

  Lily swallowed. She was convinced that it was a street of brothels, but would Mrs Walker be aware of it? ‘It’s a house in Leadenhall Square,’ she said. ‘At ’end of ’main street. Lowgate, I think it’s called.’

  Mrs Walker’s face paled and a look of disbelief came into her eyes. ‘Leadenhall Square!’ she croaked, glancing from Lily to Daisy. ‘Fasten my hair back, Daisy,’ she commanded, ‘and then go and ask Molly to bring in some coffee.’

  Daisy quickly knotted Mrs Walker’s hair behind her neck and with a smile at her mother she dipped her knee to Mrs Walker and went out of the room.

  ‘Do you know what kind of street that is?’ Mrs Walker hissed when they were alone. ‘It’s a street of whores!’ She stared at Lily, who was shocked at her frankness. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t know, as you’re a newcomer to ’district, but I’m telling you that it’s ’worst street in Hull and no decent woman would work there!’

  ‘I didn’t know.’ Lily’s voice quavered. ‘Somebody took me. Offered me a bed for ’night, and a job running ’house. I thought it was a lodging house until I got there.’ She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her mouth. ‘It was ’same young fellow who paid my husband. He said I had to pay him back if I didn’t stay. I don’t know what else to do,’ she said, swallowing a sob. ‘I seem to be digging a deeper and deeper hole to fall into, and I’ve got Daisy to consider.’

  ‘Daisy can stay here.’ Mrs Walker spoke in a no-nonsense tone of voice. ‘She’s proved very useful and I’d be willing to employ her. She’s young but I can train her in ’way I want.’

  Lily was astonished at the suggestion, but before she could comment Mrs Walker continued, ‘My husband was angry when I sent you to ’home for fallen women. He said you were a good-living woman who had come to grief through adversity and no fault of your own.’

  ‘He was right,’ Lily whispered. ‘These last few days have been a nightmare. I keep thinking that I’ll wake up and be back in my own village again.’

  ‘Well, you won’t.’ Mrs Walker’s face was set. ‘Not unless you can find somebody to take you and if they did what would you do then? Go back to your husband?’

  Lily shook her head. ‘No.’ She took a deep breath. ‘When I was in Hope House, Mrs Walker, I met some young women who worked on ’streets. They’ve turned up at this house in Leadenhall Square. One of ’young women already living there had been beaten up by a customer and they were all frightened.’

  How much should I tell her? she wondered. How would she understand, a woman like her with a house and a husband and money to spend? She had noticed as she came into the room that although it wasn’t lavish, the furniture was good and solid; there was a patterned carpet on the floor and velvet curtains at the window.

  ‘I had an idea,’ she continued, ‘that if I turned ’house into a nice place, then ’girls could stay there and … and gentlemen could visit them, and they’d have no need to go out on to ’streets.’

  ‘It’d still be a brothel.’ Mrs Walker sniffed, but then swiftly put her finger to her lips as Molly brought in a tray with a coffee pot and two cups and saucers.

  Lily hadn’t been asked to sit down and had remained standing, but now Mrs Walker said, in Molly’s hearing, ‘Please sit down, Mrs Maddeson. I’d like to discuss Daisy.’

  ‘Y-yes,’ Lily began. ‘But about Daisy working for you, Mrs Walker. She’s onny been with you a few days; and you know she’s not yet twelve.’

  Mrs Walker nodded. ‘Leave ’coffee pot, Molly,’ she said. ‘I’ll pour. I’m aware of that,’ she answered Lily when Molly had left the room. ‘But she’s got nice manners; she’s a credit to you, I’ll say that. She was sent in with ’tea one day and poured without spilling, and she’s helped Mr Walker in ’shop; and it came to me that perhaps we could do with a girl who was adaptable. And,’ she added, ‘better that she’s young and not one experienced in ’ways of womanhood who might think of tekking a fancy to my son. I know these young girls,’ she said sagely. ‘That’s why Molly is older. We don’t want temptation putting his way.’

  Lily hid a smile. ‘It’ll come his way sooner or later, Mrs Walker. It’s human nature, after all.’

  ‘But not until after he’s served his time with Mr Walker and become an apothecary.’ She drew her lips into a thin line as she poured the coffee and said firmly, ‘I want ’best for him and for him to marry well so that he can carry on in Mr Walker’s footsteps.’

  ‘He’s your only child, is he, Mrs Walker?’

  ‘He is.’ Mrs Walker’s eyes clouded. ‘I had a daughter but she died. There’s been no more.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Lily said. ‘It’s hard to lose a child.’

  It was as if a shutter had come down on Mrs Walker’s expression, for Lily could read nothing in it. I don’t understand her, she thought. Why has she invited me to have coffee with her? She could have taken me down to the kitchen to discuss Daisy.

  ‘I’ll keep Daisy here.’ Mrs Walker sipped her coffee. ‘She’d be starting work at twelve anyway. Earlier than that if she was working in a mill or a factory. I’ll supply her with her work clothes, caps, aprons and suchlike and take payment for them out of her wages.’ She looked across at Lily. ‘If you’re going to take that work you won’t want her with you.’

  ‘Why, no,’ Lily began, ‘but I shan’t—’

  ‘If you decide to take it, I must ask you not to tell Mr Walker.’ Mrs Walker pursed her mouth. ‘My husband wouldn’t approve at all.’ She took a breath and gave a little shake of her head. ‘I’m more understanding in these matters. That’s why I arranged for you to go to Hope House when I thought that you were – when I mistakenly thought you were—’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I do understand.’ Lily helped her out of her confusion. ‘When you thought I was a woman of ill repute.’

  But there’s something more, she pondered. Why hasn’t she shown me the door? Why hasn’t she changed her mind about Daisy when she’s just learned that I’m to be running a disorderly house?

  ‘Who will you be working for, Mrs Maddeson? Not that I’m likely to know them,’ Mrs Walker added swiftly. ‘But just so that I can be aware and steer away any difficulties should they arise. Mr Walker occasionally has to give medication to women like that.’

  ‘There won’t be any difficulties, ma’am,’ Lily said. ‘I’ll be discreet. I wouldn’t want my daughter to know ’nature of ’business. But I onny know the man as Jamie. First time I met him in ’Market Place he said everybody would know him.’

  Mrs Walker gave a nervous swallow in her thin throat and she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I’ve never heard of him,’ she said. ‘But then I never expected to.’

  Lily finished her coffee and stood up. ‘You’ve been very understanding, Mrs Walker,’ she said. ‘And I appreciate that and your kindness to Daisy.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve not been kind,’ Mrs Walker asserted. ‘I just saw her potential. I’ll expect her to work for her keep and her salary. I’ll try her out for three months and mebbe by then you’ll know if you’re staying in that place or if you have a change of fortune and go on somewhere else. Now, I expect you’ll want to speak to your daughter. I’ll give her half an hour off and you can tell her that I’ll employ her from today.’

  Lily waited in the shop for Daisy to come from the kitchen. When she did, Lily noticed that she had tidied her hair neatly under a bonnet which wasn’t her own, though she still wore the shabby skirt and shawl she had been wearing when they left home.

  They walked out into King Street and Daisy tucked her arm into her mother’s. ‘Are you better now, Ma?’ She looked up at her. ‘You look better.’

  ‘Aye, I’m well rested now. The people in that place that Mrs Walker sent me
to looked after me right grand. They put me to bed, and fed me when I’d recovered. Now then, Daisy,’ she said. ‘Mrs Walker wants to employ you.’

  ‘I know.’ Daisy gave a cheeky grin. ‘I tried to be helpful to her and Mr Walker and I told her that I’d allus wanted to be a maid to a grand lady.’

  ‘You never! You’ve never mentioned that to me!’

  Daisy’s eyes sparkled. ‘That’s cos I’d not thought of it afore. But Molly sent me in to tidy Mrs Walker’s room and mek ’bed, and while I was in there I thought that would be a nice sort of job to have. And while I was there I sorted out her jewel boxes which were lying on a dressing table—’

  Dressing table! Lily thought. We’ve never had such a thing, let alone jewel boxes.

  ‘And then she came in. She was angry at first to see me there – mebbe she thought I was pinching summat – but when I showed her what I’d done – I’d put her brooches together, and her necklaces – she said that Molly wasn’t very good at that sort of thing, and told me to tidy her cupboards and drawers. And do you know, Ma?’ Her voice became animated. ‘She’s got some lovely things.’ She put her hand to her mouth and leaned towards her mother. ‘You’d never guess to look at her, would you, but she’s got lots of lovely lacy petticoats and under-drawers,’ she added in a whisper.

  ‘Daisy!’ Lily admonished her. ‘If you want to work there you must learn to keep quiet about such things. Now,’ she said firmly. ‘Tell me about Ted. You’ve seen him?’

  Daisy nodded solemnly. ‘I’m not sure if he meant me to tell you, Ma. He might be in trouble. Billy Fowler is dead. Ted’s run away to sea cos he thinks he killed him!’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The sea had encroached on the land along the eastern coast of Yorkshire for centuries and many villages in the Bay of Holderness had been consumed. Where the waters licked or battered the base of soft boulder clay, the weakened low cliffs slid down on to the sands leaving a jagged edge on the grassy top and making narrow bays and small coves below. Mostly the sands were covered when the tide rushed in, but here and there, where the boulders and clay had been heaped in the fall, there were small inlets where it was possible to stand and claw a way up the cliff out of the reach of the approaching waves.

  It was into one of these inlets that Billy Fowler had been carried and he grabbed with all his strength and vigour at a heap of boulder clay, holding on tightly as the sea washed over him, making him retch, cough and splutter. ‘By, I thought my end had come,’ he gasped. ‘Thought I’d had it.’ He took several deep breaths, for he had been dragged under water several times as the sea carried him away from where he had fallen.

  He looked up at the slippery mud-red cliff above him; he could see no handholds, just here and there tufts of grass which might, if he grasped them, pull out by their roots and deposit him back in the water again. ‘I’ll have to wait till tide turns,’ he muttered. ‘If I tummel down cliff I might not be so fortunate as to survive next time. I’ll not chance it.’

  But he was cold and shivery and although the heavy rain which was lashing down couldn’t make him any wetter than he was already, it added to his discomfort. He was up to his waist in water and his hands were blue with cold as he clung on.

  ‘It’s that young peazan that’s brought me to this,’ he groused. ‘He’ll be up there in my house, thinking I’m a goner. By, I can’t wait to see his face when I turn up.’

  His legs were so cold he could barely feel them, and each time a wave rushed in it swept over his head. He struggled to get up higher on the tumbled boulder clay and managed to straddle it. Then he heard a rumble and looked up. Another chunk of cliff was falling, slithering down the rock face towards him. He put his head down between his arms to protect himself and felt the battering of stones, sand and clay as with a splash, slosh and splodge they hit the water.

  Another wave of frothy spume thundered over him and as he lifted his head to take a breath he gave an exclamation of elation. The fallen clay and boulders had filled in the gap between himself and the cliffs, making it possible to scramble towards the place where a steep but navigable path had been formed.

  He clawed his way over the heap, and then attempted to climb, sometimes slithering down again on the slippery treacherous surface. He paused halfway up to gain his breath. ‘At least I’m out of ’water,’ he gasped. ‘And if it teks all night, I’ll get there.’ The sky was dark and ominous with the rain and he had lost track of the time and how long he had been in the water.

  At last he reached the top of the cliff and lay panting on the grass. He lifted his head and looked about him. There was no sign of his house; the sea must have carried him a considerable distance. He shuffled away from the edge. The cliff top was so cracked and fissured that it wouldn’t be long before that too would crumble and fall.

  He lay on the wet grass and surveyed his surroundings, trying to get his bearings. The area was flat with no positive landmarks, but as he narrowed his eyes he could see across the land to the post-mill at Hollym and the disused church of St Nicholas. His eyes followed the horizon, coming to rest to his right and seeing his neighbour John Ward’s farmhouse and meadow in the near distance.

  ‘So where’s my house?’ he muttered, sweeping his gaze towards the sea. ‘What’s that?’ A stable or loose box leaned precariously near to the cliff edge. ‘That’s my hoss shelter!’ He rose clumsily to his feet. ‘So where’s my house?’ He started to run, stumbling in his haste. ‘It’s nivver gone ower!’

  He reached the derelict shelter and looked about him. Straw and hay were blowing about and where his house should have been were but a few spars and boulders, bricks and pantiles, for over the years he had patched up the old cottage with whatever had been to hand. He peered over the edge. It was now almost too dark to distinguish details, but what he did identify halfway down the cliff was a chair and a bed, a chimney pot and some smashed white crockery which gleamed in the gloom.

  ‘Them was hers,’ he muttered. ‘Brought ’em wi’ her. Rest was mine and now it’s gone. It’s all gone and I’ve nowt left.’ He turned in bewilderment to look about him. ‘Nowt at all. Where shall I go? Where shall I sleep? In stable wi’ ’hoss. But where is he? Where’s ’hoss?’

  He stumbled back to the shelter. ‘He were here before I had ’fight wi’ yon lad.’ His eyes flickered about him, noting that the saddle had gone. ‘Where is he? He’s gone off wi’ hoss, that’s what! Wi’ my hoss!’

  He shivered uncontrollably, his teeth chattering. ‘I’ve got to get warm. Get these wet clouts off. I’ll go to John Ward. See if he’ll help.’

  Billy Fowler had had an acrimonious relationship with his neighbour for many years, but the animosity had lessened once he had brought Lily to live with him. She had made friends with the old man and his wife, baking them a pie with the apples they had given her, and they had allowed her to keep her cow in one of their meadows with their stock.

  He trudged towards their farmhouse. They’re going to ask me where she is, and her bairns. What story can I tell them? I have to get dry. I’ll reckon that I’m concussed at first and get my memory back when I’m warm.

  He reached their door and thumped on it. ‘Help,’ he called in a weak voice. ‘Help!’

  ‘Who is it?’ Mrs Ward called and he thumped again.

  ‘Billy Fowler! Help me.’

  ‘Just a minute.’

  He heard her calling to her husband and he banged again. ‘Help me!’

  The bolt was drawn and the key turned, and Mr Ward looked cautiously out. ‘What is it? What do you want?’

  ‘Cottage’s gone ower. I’ve been in ’sea. Got washed ower ’side.’ He was beginning to feel ill as he stood outside their door. ‘For God’s sake let me in.’ His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, grabbing Mr Ward to save himself, almost dragging him down. ‘I’ve lost everything,’ he wailed. ‘Me bed, me chair. Everything belonging to me has gone ower ’edge.’

  They managed to drag him inside and towards the fire. M
rs Ward clasped her hands together. ‘But dear God! What about your wife and her bairns? Don’t tell me they’re drowned!’

  Billy’s whole body shook and Mr Ward helped him off with his sodden coat. ‘Fetch a blanket,’ he told Mrs Ward. ‘He’s going to get pneumonia if he doesn’t get these wet clouts off.’

  Mrs Ward brought a blanket which he wrapped around himself, stripping off to his skin beneath it whilst she heated a pan of water on the fire. ‘Brandy and hot water, that’s what he needs,’ she told her husband. ‘You’ve got a drop left in ’cupboard.’ He looked askance at her, but he went to fetch it.

  Then he sat opposite Billy by the fire and threw questions at him. ‘So where were you when ’house went ower? Were you in it or outside?’

  ‘And where was Mrs Fowler and her childre’?’ Mrs Ward wrung her hands in dismay. ‘Don’t say they were in it when it went ower! They’ll be dead for sure.’ Her voice broke. ‘That poor lass and her bairns.’

  ‘Not ’young lad,’ Mr Ward broke in. ‘I saw him wi’ ’goats late afternoon and then a bit later saw him riding off on ’owd hoss.’ His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Billy. ‘Haven’t seen his ma or ’little lass about for a day or two, though.’

  ‘She’s not been well,’ Billy muttered. ‘She stayed inside and ’lass looked after her.’

  ‘So ’lad’s safe at any rate,’ John Ward said slowly. ‘Where was he going? Will he be back? We’ll have to send out a search party for Mrs Fowler and her daughter.’ He nodded his head as he contemplated. ‘I’ll tek ’trap ower to Withernsea and find somebody to tek a boat out.’

  ‘It’ll be useless tonight,’ Billy mumbled. ‘I was washed down ’coast. I was stuck at ’bottom of ’cliffs for hours,’ he exaggerated. ‘If it hadn’t been for another fall which cleared a path, I’d still have been there.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘Doubt if I’d have survived ’night.’

  ‘But we’ll have to look for ’em,’ Mrs Ward insisted. ‘They might be stuck on ’cliffs, same as you were.’

  John Ward gazed suspiciously at his neighbour. ‘Hours, you say? Well, ’house was still there when I went to lock up ’hens. I was earlier than usual, cos of ’weather. I’d have noticed if it had gone ower. That’s when I saw Ted riding off, just afore I came inside.’