Fallen Angels

by Val Wood

  They had all bathed in the tin tub: Cherie first, before Lizzie; then it was topped up with more hot water and Alice and Betty took their turns. Apart from Cherie none of them were bashful and they washed each other’s hair and scrubbed each other’s back, giggling and chattering as they did so. Lily smilingly watched them; she felt very maternal towards them even though she was too young to be considered their mother substitute, but they all turned to her to ask questions as if she might have been an older sister.

  Alice’s bruises hadn’t faded but were turning yellow; her face was still swollen and her eyelids were puffy, so it was decided that she wouldn’t be seeing any gentlemen just yet, but with a touch of powder on her face would help Cherie serve the drinks on Saturday. ‘I shan’t earn any money,’ she wailed. ‘And I still owe Jamie for last week’s rent.’

  They had spent an afternoon trying on the clothes which Lizzie had chosen and Jamie had bought. Alice had selected a pale blue gown with an overskirt of white lace and short puff sleeves; she and Betty had almost come to blows as Betty had wanted it too. Lily stepped in to resolve the argument. ‘Alice should have it,’ she decided. ‘The pale blue suits her fair skin and hair. Your hair’s more golden, Betty, so will suit this other blue; look,’ she said, holding up the dress. ‘See how vibrant it is.’

  And she was right, as Betty admitted when she tried it on. It was a rich deep blue with a flounced skirt piped with a satin edging and a bow at the back, with long sleeves coming to a point at the wrist.

  Cherie had stood back waiting for her turn. She didn’t expect much as she wasn’t to be working, but Lizzie held up a dress that she had previously put over the back of a chair. ‘Try this, Cherie. I picked this out specially for you.’

  Cherie pressed her lips together as she slipped off the grey dress. She wore just her cotton chemise and put up her thin arms for the new gown to be put over her head. ‘It’s lovely, Lizzie,’ she said shyly. ‘Can I really wear it on Saturday?’

  ‘Whew!’ the other girls screeched. ‘Cherie, you look lovely!’

  The sprigged muslin gown seemed to bring out Cherie’s innocence. The skirt was full, the highwaisted, boned bodice, which laced at the back, not too low, having a lace fichu at the neckline, and satin ribbons floated from a bow at the front.

  All the gowns were second- or even third- or fourth-hand, and some were worn in places or had a hem hanging down, but Lily was adept with a needle and was able to repair them; she’d always had to make her children’s clothes out of whatever material she could find, and in various cupboards or drawers in the house she managed to unearth what she needed, needles and thread or skeins of silk.

  ‘What about you, Lily? What’ll you wear?’ Alice asked her. ‘We’ve all found something, so now you must.’

  ‘There are two that I like,’ Lily confided, ‘and I don’t know which to choose.’ Lizzie had done well in gathering such a splendid selection. There was a fine wool gown in lilac, full with a stiffened underskirt and cut off the shoulder. The other one she liked was in a soft purple-black shot with a silver vein, with a deep neckline and a nipped-in waist and a full trailing skirt.

  ‘You must have ’em both,’ Lizzie said. ‘You can’t wear ’same frock every time you go to ’door. Try ’em on,’ she urged. ‘Let’s see.’

  Lily had bathed the night before after everyone else had gone up to bed. She had lain in the tub in front of the range with her wet hair pinned up and reflected that this wasn’t her, not Lily Fowler formerly Leigh-Maddeson, a countrywoman with two children. This was someone entirely different.

  She took the two gowns now and went away to her room and dressed in the black gown. She gazed at her reflection in the spotty cracked mirror. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘It’s definitely not me.’

  The person looking back at her was tall and stately, without the ruddy rosy cheeks that came from living by the sea, but paler, making her amber-coloured eyes seem larger and more intense. Lily lifted her hair away from her face and pinned it up on top of her head, pulling down just a few strands around her ears to hang in tendrils at her cheeks.

  ‘Shoes,’ she muttered. ‘I haven’t any shoes!’ She only had the boots she had come in. ‘I can’t wear this wi’ my old boots.’

  She picked up her skirt and went through into the parlour where the others were waiting and stood poised in the doorway.

  The four young women turned to look at her. For a moment they said nothing, just gazing in silence. Then Lizzie said, in a hushed almost reverential whisper, ‘Lily! You look magnificent. Like a duchess!’

  Betty took in a breath. ‘I can’t believe it’s you!’ she said. ‘When I first saw you at Hope House, you were so – so dowly. I know you’d just lost a bairn, but even so you were …’ she struggled for words, not wanting to be offensive.

  ‘A peasant?’ Lily suggested, smiling at the astonishment on their faces.

  ‘Well, yes,’ Betty admitted. ‘But now you’re so – so grand!’

  ‘Glorious,’ Alice said.

  ‘Lovely,’ added Cherie.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Jamie’s voice came through from the hall. ‘What ’you all up to?’

  He stopped as he saw Lily and his eyes opened wide. ‘Whew!’ he said. ‘Who’s this?’ He circled round her. ‘You look tremendous.’ He grinned slyly. ‘The gents will be mad for you, Lily. Are you sure you won’t—’

  ‘Quite sure,’ she said firmly. ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘Well, when they see you at ’front door they’ll know they’re in for a treat.’

  ‘I haven’t any shoes,’ she said, lifting her skirt to show her bare feet. ‘I’ve onny – only got my boots.’

  He sighed. ‘Is there no end to spending money? Can’t any of you lend her a pair?’

  They all shook their heads. A second pair of boots or shoes was unheard of.

  ‘Black slippers,’ Lizzie suggested. ‘They won’t cost as much as shoes.’

  Jamie reluctantly agreed and put his hand in his pocket to bring out some money. ‘Go to Rena’s, then. I’m just off to fetch ’wine and a cask of ale. There’s a couple more girls due to come.’

  ‘Who are they?’ Lizzie asked. ‘I hope they’re decent.’ She had become proprietorial, not really willing to admit anyone else to their group.

  ‘Who do you think you are?’ Jamie admonished her. ‘They’re all right. Been around a bit. Hope you’ve saved ’em summat to wear. Anyway,’ he said, ‘I’ve got some bookings. You lot can have gents and they can have whoever else comes.’

  ‘Which rooms shall these women have?’ Betty asked. ‘We’ve all chosen ours.’

  He gave an exasperated exclamation as he went out. ‘Whichever’s free,’ he said. ‘I don’t really care.’

  Lily took off the dress and carefully draped it over the back of a chair. So this is it, she thought. Tomorrow night my life changes. I still don’t know if I’m doing right. I’m not. It’s abhorrent to me. But the girls don’t seem to mind too much. Perhaps they just accept what is to be.

  She asked them, Lizzie, Betty and Alice, what they thought of when they were with strange men.

  ‘If they’re married, I wonder why they’re with me,’ Alice said softly. ‘I wonder what it is that drives them from home to search out a girl like me. If I had a husband I’d make sure he stayed at home.’

  ‘I don’t think about them at all,’ Lizzie said sourly. ‘I onny know what idiots they are to part wi’ their money.’ She gave a smirk. ‘But while they’re at it, I add up what I’m earning and what I’ll do with it.’ Her expression changed to a wistful one. ‘But there’s never enough, not after I’ve eaten or paid for a room to sleep; there’s never been enough left to put by for owt else.’

  Lily glanced at Betty who was sitting quietly listening. She was the odd one out, not quite one of the girls, not always joining in their chatter, and, although not aloof, tended to be rather reserved. Lily hesitated, not wanting to pry into what her thoughts were as she sold her body to str
angers.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me?’ Betty said. ‘Don’t you want to know what I think about?’ She looked at each of them in turn, her final glance lingering on Cherie.

  ‘Onny if you want to tell us,’ Lily said softly. ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘You’re ’onny family I’ve got now so why shouldn’t I tell you?’ Betty swallowed, and then said huskily, ‘My father disowned me and my ma went along with his decision. That’s why I’m what I am; but when I’m wi’ a stranger’ – she pressed her lips together – ‘I think about my babby.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I loved his da, and I thought he loved me. I was onny about ’same age Cherie is, and I trusted him – was persuaded by him – and when I knew I was expecting I was so excited; I thought, fool that I was,’ she added bitterly, ‘that we’d be married. But he didn’t want to know.’

  Her voice caught on a sob. ‘I managed at first, even though my da had turned me out. I found a room and got a job but it didn’t last and that was when I went on ’streets.’ Her eyes glistened; a tear slid down the side of her nose and she brushed it away with her fingertips. ‘I loved my babby but as he got bigger I couldn’t leave him by himself all night, so I took him to this woman; she looked after lots of bairns and I thought he’d be all right. But one night he was very fretful. He had teeth coming through and I told her to give him some Godfrey’s Cordial or Daffy’s if he couldn’t sleep.’

  Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment she couldn’t speak. When she did her voice was thick with emotion. ‘But when I went back to collect him ’following morning – he was dead.’ Her mouth opened and she began a distressing sobbing wail. ‘She’d given him laudanum! She said she couldn’t stand ’racket he was mekking and swore she’d onny given him a drop to mek him sleep.’

  Betty put her head down to her knees and sobbed and sobbed, her shoulders shaking. Alice went towards her but Lily put out her hand to stay her and shook her head. Betty had to cry out all her sorrow. Sad enough to have lost a child before full term as she had, but to have known one and loved him, to have dandled him on your knee and sung a lullaby, and then to have lost him must have been heartbreaking.

  They all stayed silent; Cherie wept. Alice had her fingers clutched to her mouth and Lizzie stood with her arms crossed tightly in front of her staring into the fire, whilst Mrs Flitt, who had been busying herself in the kitchen but had come into the parlour to see Lily in her finery, slipped back into the kitchen, crept into her cupboard and closed the door.

  Betty lifted her head. Her eyes were red and swollen. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘So you see, I think about my Tommy and how he was made with love and passion, mine at any rate, and these men,’ she spat out the word, ‘they think of nowt but themselves and their pleasure and nowt of what they’re doing to us, and yet we’re the ones who get ’blame. It’s us who have to go to court and are called vile names and get sent to prison, and it’s us who get diseased.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Sometimes,’ she said in a low voice, ‘sometimes I wish I was dead.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lizzie was the first to respond. Though she wasn’t usually demonstrative, she gave Betty an awkward kiss on her cheek. ‘Don’t talk like that, Betty,’ she said in a low voice. ‘We wouldn’t want owt to happen to you and it’d mean that they’d won.’

  Alice hugged her. ‘You deserve something good, Betty,’ she whispered. ‘And we all have to stick together and look after each other.’

  Cherie was weeping so much that Betty had to comfort her and wipe her tears away. ‘Don’t worry, Cherie,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll mek sure that nowt bad happens to you.’ Then she looked at Lily. ‘I’m sorry, Lily,’ she said, her eyes filling again. ‘I didn’t mean to upset everybody, but I’ve not spoken about it afore, not properly, I mean.’

  The others went out of the room and into the kitchen as Lily went to sit next to her, taking hold of her hand. ‘It’s been building up for a long time, I reckon, and now it’s out you can begin your life again. You’ll not ever forget your bairn,’ she said softly, ‘but you’ll think of him wi’ happiness one day.’ She patted her cheek and smiled. ‘This sort of life won’t last for ever, and I said I’d another plan for you.’

  Betty nodded and wiped her eyes. ‘You did, but you didn’t say what it was.’

  ‘I’ve not quite got it fixed in my head,’ Lily said. ‘But you remember when you brought me my breakfast in bed when we were in Hope House?’

  ‘Yes. What about it? Mrs Grant sent me up with it.’

  ‘I know that. But it was ’way you gave me the tray all nicely set out, and you opened ’curtains at ’window to let in ’daylight; why, I felt just like a lady with her maid coming in!’

  Betty gave a tearful laugh. ‘I was pretending that’s what I was,’ she said. ‘Mrs Grant said to set it and tek it up to a woman who’d just lost a bairn. I guessed that you’d be a street woman like me and I was going to reckon on that I was summat else, like an upstairs maid. But I saw straight away that you weren’t ’usual type – if there is one,’ she added.

  ‘I thought you were a maid until you started to talk to me,’ Lily smiled, ‘and told me that you’d been brought there as well. But,’ she said quietly, ‘you’ve got ’knack. I’ve watched you. It’s as if you know what to do. You can set ’table and you can make soup, and though I know we’ve not got much to cook at ’minute, as soon as we’re earning some money we can buy some food and you can learn how to cook it.’

  Betty’s face brightened. ‘I’d like that,’ she said, her mind running on towards better things. ‘But I don’t know who’d employ me if they knew ’sort of job I’d done before.’

  ‘We won’t think of that just now,’ Lily said. ‘Let’s just think of one day at a time and how to get through it.’

  Mrs Flitt had put the kettle on and made a pot of tea when they joined the rest in the kitchen. ‘Nowt like a cuppa to tek your mind off things,’ she said. ‘And you’ve all told your stories.’ She put the pot on the table, first putting a tin plate beneath it. ‘It’s an owd table, I know,’ she muttered, ‘but owd habits die hard.’ She looked up at Lily. ‘And now I’ll tell you my story. I used to work in a kitchen; I told you that already. I was a bright young thing. You’d nivver think it to look at me, would you?’ She raised her sparse grey eyebrows at Cherie, who giggled.

  ‘Well I was, and I worked me way up to be cook in a big house here in Hull.’ She sighed. ‘Aye, I had me own little kingdom. Two maids under me and onny ’butler over me. Plain food I cooked, nowt fancy. Master nivver wanted owt else. Mistress was a tartar though and I had to watch me ps and qs with her. Anyway, ’butler died, sudden like, and they took on another. Very smart he was, very handsome, and we took a shine to each other. Now I can see you don’t believe that’ – Cherie was chortling into her hand – ‘but I used to be a right bonny lass. Anyway …’ Mrs Flitt rubbed at her nose. ‘He asked me to marry him and I said yes. But ’onny thing was that ’mistress didn’t want us both working there, said it wouldn’t do, so as soon as we was wed I had to leave and find another position, which I did, as I’d got a good reference.’

  She took a deep breath and poured the tea. ‘But that’s when ’trouble started. While ’cat’s away, you know, and while I was working across ’other side of town he started eyeing up one of ’parlour maids, who being young and inexperienced thought that he was serious about her and started planning that they’d move away together and find work somewhere else. When she discovered that wasn’t what he had in mind, she went to ’mistress crying and bawling and told her about his philandering. He was given ’sack straight away and then they discovered that he wasn’t who he said he was and that he’d been pinching silver and jewellery, not onny off them but other work places as well; but ’worst thing was he told ’police that I’d put him up to it. I had to go to court and swear that I knew nowt about it, and then ’next thing was that his wife turned up! His real wife who he’d married five y
ears afore he’d bigamously married me.’

  The only sound in the kitchen was a piece of coal shifting in the range as they sat silently listening to her story. Mrs Flitt drew her narrow shoulders up to her ears in a big shrug. ‘So after that, nobody wanted to employ me. Stigma, you see. Folks were whispering that I probably knew all about it. I got jobs in kitchens as a maid of all work, but not as a cook. Couldn’t be trusted they said, not for bargaining with butchers and bakers and suchlike. They reckoned that I’d tek a few sweeteners for giving ’em ’trade. So for ’rest of my life,’ she continued, ‘until I got too old to work, I did a bit o’ this and a bit o’ that and then went into ’workhouse every winter and lived on ’streets every summer, scrounging whatever I could to keep breath in me body.’

  ‘Did you never meet anybody else you wanted to marry, Mrs Flitt?’ Alice asked wistfully.

  The old woman sipped her tea. ‘Nah! Once bitten, you know.’

  ‘Lucky you didn’t have a bairn,’ Betty said. ‘At least you onny had yourself to fend for.’

  ‘Aye, well he wasn’t all that good in that department.’ Mrs Flitt frowned. ‘At least I don’t think he was, not that I knew much about that sort o’ thing. Still don’t,’ she added. ‘Very uncomfortable,’ she commented to general laughter. ‘Can’t think what all ’fuss is about. I’d rather go to bed wi’ a cup o’ hot cocoa.’

  ‘What a mixed bunch we are,’ Lily said. ‘And what happened to him? Did he go to prison?’

  ‘Oh, aye.’ Mrs Flitt slurped the rest of her tea. ‘But not here. He was sent to Australia. He’ll have done well out there if he survived ’voyage.’ She sniffed. ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.’

  On Saturday morning Lily went into the town; Jamie had given her money to buy slippers and she also needed to buy food for all of them, and sweet biscuits to offer with the wine and ale. Jamie had brought in some bottles of wine and a cask of ale as Lily had suggested. She had left the girls preparing and tidying their rooms and Mrs Flitt was sweeping the steps.