by Val Wood
Billy put his hand to his head. ‘It seems like hours,’ he said in a faint voice. ‘Mebbe it wasn’t. I onny know that I was half drowned and got washed up on to some boulders. I had to cling on for dear life,’ he said plaintively.
‘That’s as mebbe.’ Mr Ward got to his feet and went towards the door where his outdoor coat was hanging, with his boots standing neatly by the side of it. ‘But if you survived, happen your wife and ’little lass are doing ’same.’
‘Can I stop ’night?’ Billy whined. ‘Then in ’morning when my clouts are dry I’ll go to ’parish and ask ’em to house me.’
‘You’ll not go to ’land agent, then?’ Mr Ward paused with his hand on the latch. ‘He’ll need to be notified to tell ’maister.’
‘He can go hang,’ Billy muttered. ‘All ’time I’ve been living on ’edge I’ve had to pay full rent, nowt knocked off for ’land I’ve lost!’
‘Not ’maister’s fault,’ Mrs Ward butted in. ‘He’s losing land as well. And he’ll have lost your rent now ’cottage has gone ower.’
‘Well, he can seek me out,’ Billy grumbled. ‘I’ll not go lookin’ fer him. He’ll not house me anyway. He’s got nowt that I want. Not out here anyway. No, I’ll ask parish to find me summat. I heard tell they’re going to build new houses in Withernsea. I’ll ask ’em for summat temp’ry till they’re ready.’
‘And how will you live and pay ’rent?’ Mrs Ward was astonished.
‘I’ll work as a labourer,’ he said. ‘Do odd jobs. I’ll manage,’ he muttered, forgetting for a moment that he was in company. ‘Now I’m on me own wi’ onny meself to cater for, no other mouths to feed.’
He looked up to find both Mr and Mrs Ward staring at him. ‘So.’ Mr Ward’s jaw was slack. ‘You reckon they’re dead then? Mrs Fowler and young Daisy?’
Billy shook his head sorrowfully. He sighed a deep sigh. ‘I reckon they are.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
‘Poor bairn!’ Lily wept when Daisy told her that Ted had gone to look for a ship in case he was blamed for Fowler’s death. ‘He wouldn’t have done it deliberate. I know he wouldn’t, even though he couldn’t abide Billy Fowler. And was he sure that he drowned? I wouldn’t put it past him to pretend that he was dead just to put ’fear o’ God into Ted.’
‘Ted said he leaned right over ’edge and all he could see was ’foam. All of ’sands was covered over, he said.’
Lily wiped her eyes on her shawl. ‘Well, I can’t pretend my heart is broken and now I can’t speak ill of ’dead, even though I’d like to. He was a dowly ill-mannered man wi’ no kindness in him.’
‘Why did you marry him, Ma?’ Daisy asked. ‘If you thought that?’
‘Because when he used to come into ’hostelry of a night, he seemed amiable enough, and I thought he was lonely like me.’ She turned to Daisy. ‘Women do get lonely.’ She gave a soft smile. ‘Even if they’ve got bairns to comfort ’em. And I missed your da,’ she added in a low voice. ‘Even though we didn’t see much of him I allus thought of ’time when he’d come breezing in through ’door and all’d be right with ’world. But as ’years went on I had to admit that he probably wouldn’t be coming back and that I’d have to find a father for my bairns.’
‘We hadn’t known him, Ma.’ Daisy put her hand into her mother’s. ‘So we didn’t miss him, though sometimes I thought it would be good to have a da, like some of ’bairns I knew. And Ted felt ’same; but not Billy Fowler. We’d rather have done without than have him.’
‘Well he’s gone now and I’m a widow again.’ Lily felt fresh tears sting her eyes, but they weren’t tears for Billy Fowler. It was a sorrow come back, even though it had never really gone away, for her dearest Johnny.
‘I can’t do anything about Ted,’ she said, swallowing hard. ‘He’ll probably be away on a ship by now, but,’ she wagged a finger, ‘if you should see or hear a whisper that he’s back in Hull, you must tell me.’
Daisy nodded. ‘Will we stay here in Hull now, Ma? I want to. I like working for Mr and Mrs Walker.’
‘No point in going back,’ Lily said. ‘What or who would we go back for? If Ted had been there, then I might’ve done. We could mebbe have managed between us, though not at ’Seathorne cottage. I reckon it’ll go over afore long if it hasn’t already. No, I’d have gone home, back to Hollym, and tekken a chance there.’ She sighed. ‘But it’s not to be. And you’ve ’prospect of a better life here, Daisy.’ She squeezed her daughter’s small hand. ‘You be a good girl and work hard for Mr and Mrs Walker and you’ll do all right.’
Lily made her way back from King Street towards Leadenhall Square. The town was busy with hustling people, noisy with the clip-clop of horses’ hooves and rattle of wheels on the cobbles. She heard a shout of ‘Stop thief ’ and saw a small ragged boy running along the road with a rabbit hanging from his pocket being chased by a shopkeeper in a bloodstained apron. She watched curiously and hoped he would escape, but drew in a breath as she saw a man in a top hat and frock coat put out his arms to bar his flight.
Poor lad’s probably starving, she thought regretfully, but continued on her way, glancing in the shop windows in Lowgate with little interest. Even if there had been anything she would have liked to buy, she couldn’t have done so for she still didn’t have a penny to her name.
When she reached the square it was starting to rain. The police constables had gone but the old woman was still sitting on the steps with her head bent and her hands clutched round it. Lily stopped and stood in front of her. The woman unfastened her fingers and looked up. Her eyes had a cloudy film over them but Lily could see that once they had been blue.
‘What ’you looking at?’ she croaked. ‘I ain’t doing nowt. I’m minding me own business.’
Lily nodded. ‘I just wondered if you’d like a cuppa tea. You’ve been sitting here a long time.’
The old woman’s mouth dropped open and she stared. ‘Tea! What do you mean?’
Lily smiled. ‘How long since you last had a cup? Have you forgotten ’taste?’
The woman grunted and worked her lips together, pressing them hard as if trying to savour some long gone flavour, then ran her tongue over them. ‘Can’t remember when,’ she muttered. ‘All of a month; since I left ’workhouse, but then you can’t call that coloured water tea. Barely a sprinkling o’ leaves.’ She squinted up at Lily. ‘Where’s ’catch?’
‘No catch. Come on,’ Lily said, bending down towards her. ‘Let me help you up. I’m in need of a cup and I’m sure you are.’
The woman’s joints creaked as Lily took her arm to pull her up, and she bent double for a moment. ‘Ooh! Just a minute,’ she groaned. ‘Wait till everything’s gone back into place. By, that step’s hard.’ She slowly straightened up, apart from her neck and shoulders which seemed to be permanently bent. ‘You want summat from me,’ she groused. ‘Nobody does owt for nowt. Not any more.’
Lily led her towards the corner house and the woman gave a cackle. ‘Can’t see you wanting me to work here,’ she mocked. ‘Not in this brothel. Worst bawdy house in town.’
‘Not any more it isn’t.’ Lily led her up the steps to the door. ‘There’re going to be some changes.’
‘Don’t Miss Emerald run this place? She allus did.’ The old woman ran her hand across her nose. ‘She was a right madam, that one. I used to sit on her steps to catch a bit o’ warmth from ’sun, but she allus moved me on.’
‘No,’ Lily said. ‘She doesn’t. I run it now, though it belongs to Jamie. At least, he pays ’rent.’
‘Jamie!’ Again the woman cackled. ‘Full o’ bright ideas is Jamie. You watch him.’ She shook a finger at Lily. ‘Don’t trust him any further than you could throw him. He’s a bad ’un, that one. What’s your name?’
‘Lily. What’s yours?’
‘Mrs Flitt,’ she said. ‘And that’s me real name as well as being me nature. Righty-ho,’ she said. ‘So where’s that tea you promised, Miss Lily?’
Mrs Flitt knew Lizzie
and Alice already, but not Cherie or Betty. ‘I heard you ’other night,’ she told Alice. ‘Heard you blubbering as you ran back here. There was nowt I could do to help you. I was stuck in a doorway across ’square and couldn’t move. Somebody had to help me up when ’morning came. Me bones had set,’ she said.
She drank appreciatively of the tea which Cherie had made and looked round at the parlour. ‘Nice place you’ve got here,’ she said approvingly. ‘Is it going to be for haccommodation?’
‘Not exactly,’ Lily said, thinking that it could well be. There was a cheerful fire burning in the grate. The big table had been moved out and an old sofa was covered with colourful shawls. Several chairs and small tables which Jamie had acquired from somewhere were scattered about the room ready for receiving visitors once they started to come. ‘They’ll need somewhere to put down their gloves or drinks,’ Lily had told him, ‘while I assess their character. I’ll not have them thinking they can dash away upstairs straight away.’
The room at the front of the house which had been Alice’s was now Lily’s. She had moved the sofa nearer the window so that she could see anyone coming up the steps to the house. There was also a small desk in which she would keep a list of regular customers, and a sofa bed, covered with shawls and covers and cushions during the day, where she would sleep at night.
Cherie cleared away the cups when they had finished and carried them to the kitchen on a tray. Mrs Flitt watched her go. ‘Bonny girl, that,’ she commented. ‘Weak, though. Hope she’s not going to be a jade like ’other lasses; she’ll not last.’
‘What do you mean?’ Lily asked, knowing that Cherie did look frail with her pale face and languid air.
‘She’d be tekken advantage of.’ Mrs Flitt sniffed. ‘And she don’t look well to me.’
Lily hid a smile. Mrs Flitt was hardly the picture of health herself with her grey face and thin body, but she was right. Cherie had a fragile air.
‘Can I have a look round?’ Mrs Flitt asked. ‘In ’kitchen, I mean. Not upstairs.’
Lily took her through to the kitchen which was now warm from the heat of the range, and smelt deliciously of the onion soup which Betty was cooking in a large iron pot. Mrs Flitt licked her lips. ‘Would there be enough for an extra one?’ she asked. ‘I can’t pay you but I’ll scrub ’pan out afterwards. I used to work in a kitchen,’ she added. ‘When I was young.’
Betty glanced at Lily, who nodded. ‘It’s not ready yet,’ Betty said. ‘It won’t thicken.’
Mrs Flitt peered into the pan. ‘Have you put a chopped tatie in it? That’ll thicken it up.’
‘No, I haven’t,’ Betty said. ‘I’ve never made it before. I asked Jamie to bring summat in for supper. He’s not keen on spending money so there’s no meat. He brought a basket of vegetables from ’greengrocer.’
‘Let’s have a look.’ Mrs Flitt rummaged amongst the mostly scabby potatoes, onions and carrots. ‘I’ll just scrub these.’ She held up a couple of potatoes and a carrot. ‘They’ll be all right when they’ve had a glance at some water.’
As they ate their supper later, Mrs Flitt looked towards the range and pointed to a long cupboard at the side of it. ‘What do you keep in yon cupboard?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ Lily said. ‘I think it was a warming cupboard. It goes well back. It’ll do for storage.’
Mrs Flitt paused with her spoon up to her mouth. ‘Can I ’ave it?’
Lily laughed. ‘What’ll you do with it?’
The old woman put down her spoon. ‘Sleep in it,’ she said in a pleading small voice. ‘I’d not be a bother.’
‘It’s not big enough to sleep in,’ Lily objected. ‘It’s onny a cupboard!’
Mrs Flitt gazed at her. ‘You wouldn’t believe some of ’places I’ve slept in. Pigsties, coal cellars, dog kennels. That cupboard would be a palace compared to some of ’places I’ve laid me ’ead.’
It could have been me, Lily pondered. She looked round at the young faces, Alice, Cherie, Lizzie and Betty, watching her and the old woman. Or it could be any one of these girls. ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Course you can.’
In no time, it seemed, Mrs Flitt had swept and washed the flight of front steps, cleaned the windows, dusted down the stairs and scrubbed the outside privy. ‘You’re very fortunate to have this,’ she told Lily, ‘and you onny have to share wi’ folks on both sides, not ’whole street.’
‘It’s still six of us plus whoever’s next door,’ Lily said. ‘It’s enough.’ When she had lived in Hollym and Seathorne, they had had an earth closet at the bottom of the garden for their own use.
Mrs Flitt shook her head. ‘You’re lucky,’ she said. ‘I know some courts where all ’houses had onny one. Sometimes as many as thirty folk sharing a privy and hardly ever seeing ’night-soil men.’
Lily had offered Mrs Flitt the attic room which was not yet in use when she realized how useful the old woman would be. She was always willing to do any job or run any errand, but she had refused the offer. It was warm in the kitchen cupboard, she had said, and she could keep the fire going all night. She had found an old blanket and Lily had given her a cushion for her head. The only possession she had was an empty tobacco pipe which she kept on a shelf.
Jamie was less than pleased to see her. ‘Are you going to invite all ’waifs ’n’ strays in town to live here?’ he bellowed at Lily after meeting Mrs Flitt on the steps with a broom in her hand.
‘She’s helpful,’ Lily retaliated. ‘She’ll keep ’house tidy and she’ll stop out of ’way when she has to. I’ve told her that already.’
‘Mek sure she does,’ he grumbled. ‘She does nowt for ’tone of place. Old ratbag,’ he muttered.
‘She doesn’t care much for you, either,’ Lily answered caustically. ‘But she comes free; she onny gets her bed and board in return for all ’work she does. She’s up early and in bed by eight.’
She agreed privately that Mrs Flitt looked a sight. She was skinny and her clothes were merely rags, but Lily intended to do something about that, and already the old woman looked brighter, bustling about all day, cleaning, dusting, stoking the fire and generally making herself useful.
Jamie just grunted and then unfastened a large parcel that he’d brought. ‘Lizzie chose these at Rena’s and I’ve got them on sale or return.’ He unfastened the string and tipped out a pile of gowns. ‘She said if they don’t fit she’ll change ’em.’ He held one up: a red velvet gown with a low-cut neckline. He ran his hand over the cloth. ‘I’ve seen this on somebody. It looks good. Might suit you, but ’girl who wore it wasn’t as tall as you so it might not fit.’
‘A lady friend was she, Jamie?’ Lily enquired.
‘No,’ he answered shortly and with a note of bitterness. ‘She wasn’t. A whore who did well for herself.’
‘It won’t fit me,’ she said. Whoever had worn it wasn’t as well built as she was, though she knew she had lost weight after losing the child and with all the worry and anguish. ‘Colour will suit Lizzie, though. Leave them wi’ me and we’ll try them on.’
He nodded. ‘Is ’house ready?’
‘Just about,’ Lily said. ‘We could do wi’ some flowers to brighten ’place up, and perhaps you’d bring some wine and biscuits for ’customers. Or a cask of ale,’ she added. ‘I know how to draw it.’
He gave an exclamation. ‘I hope you know how much this is costing me!’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘but I’m sure you’ll tell me. But you’ll get it back if you bring ’right sort of customers. Don’t bring riff-raff, cos I’ll turn ’em away. I onny – only want gentlemen or good-class business men.’
‘I know, I know,’ he said irritably. ‘I’ve been putting ’word out, and I’ll bring a couple more women in. Be ready for Saturday,’ he said. ‘Day after tomorrow.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lily was very nervous as Saturday approached, but Lizzie, Betty and Alice were full of excited anticipation. Cherie had been pale and trembling at the prospect un
til Lily had told her that she was to help her with greeting the gentlemen and serving them with wine if they wanted it.
‘You’re not going upstairs,’ she had told her quietly. ‘That’s not for you, Cherie. I want you to blend into ’background and be ready with their coats and gloves when they leave.’
Cherie’s face flushed with relief. ‘Oh, I can do that, Lily,’ she said. ‘But I’d be so frightened to do the other. That’s why Lizzie’s allus looked after me.’
Lily smiled. ‘We’ll all look after you now, Cherie. But Jamie will expect you to do your bit, so we’ll have to show him how important it is for ’gentlemen to be looked after too. You’ll have to smile at them and mek ’em comfortable so that they’ll want to come back again.’
‘But I hate to think of what Lizzie and ’others have to do just to earn a living.’ Cherie’s eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. ‘It’s not right.’
‘It isn’t right,’ Lily agreed. ‘But it’s what happens when a woman has no other means of mekking a living.’ She took hold of Cherie’s hand. ‘But they’ll be safe here,’ she assured her, ‘and it’s not as if they haven’t done this sort of thing before. They know ’ways of men and what to expect. That doesn’t mek it right, I know, but ’men who’ll come have a need, for whatever reason, and ’girls can satisfy that need and mek ’em pay well for it,’ she added with some satisfaction.
Lizzie had tried on the red dress and it fitted and suited her, a perfect contrast against her dark hair. The bruises from her arms and face had faded; she had washed her hair and bathed in the tin bath which they had brought down into the kitchen where it was warm and to save carrying the hot water upstairs to the attic, and already she was looking healthier than when she had first arrived.
