Fallen Angels

by Val Wood

  Lily was very tempted to call at Mr Walker’s and ask to see Daisy again but she knew it wouldn’t be acceptable. Daisy had to stand on her own two feet; she couldn’t expect to have her mother calling in on a whim when she was supposed to be working. But I’m the one who needs to see her, Lily mused. I worry about her, but more than anything I don’t want her to know the type of work I’m doing. Mud sticks, and even though I’m not selling myself, who’s going to believe that?

  She went first to Rena’s shop to buy a pair of evening slippers. She also wanted to take a look at the person who sold such magnificent clothes. Gowns were draped in the shop window, hats and shoes too, and a notice which stated that only the very best material was used for the garments. Theatrical Attire, it stated, and Ball Gowns of the Nobility.

  Hmm, Lily pondered. Didn’t know there was any nobility in Hull, but perhaps I’m mistaken. I suppose there must be, she conceded. There are plenty of landed gentry in Holderness, but I can’t think that their wives would hock their clothes.

  She went inside, feeling very shabby in her old skirt and shawl, for of course she hadn’t come out in the grand clothes she was going to wear that evening. Rena was showing a dress to a young woman who was saying, ‘You’re sure that it hasn’t been seen in Hull?’

  ‘No, ma’am.’ Rena’s expression was one of disdain. ‘It has been worn only twice before and then on ’London stage.’

  The young woman said that she would think about it and left the shop and Rena, sighing, hung the dress on a rail. She shook her head. ‘Why do they come here if they want new?’ she muttered. ‘What can I do for you?’ she said to Lily, who noticed that she didn’t address her as ma’am.

  ‘I’ve come for a pair of evening slippers – black,’ she said. ‘Jamie said to come to you. You supplied him – us – with some clothes ’other day. Lizzie came to choose them.’

  ‘Ye-es!’ Rena looked Lily up and down; she was an exotic-looking woman in spite of being quite elderly and wore a black gown trimmed with red and a fringed lace shawl about her shoulders. ‘So I did. Please sit down.’

  Lily sat down and put out her foot for Rena to measure. She probably won’t have any to fit me, she thought despondently. Her feet were long with slender straight toes and a high instep. They were also callused because she often went barefoot to save the cost of shoe leather; the boots she was wearing had once belonged to her mother.

  ‘So what are you going to be doing?’ Rena gazed at Lily’s feet and then lifted down some shoe boxes from a shelf. ‘Jamie’s got some grand scheme planned, hasn’t he?’

  ‘I’m a sort of housekeeper,’ Lily said, and was piqued when Rena raised her fine plucked eyebrows and made a slight moue with her painted mouth. She thought I was only fit to be a cleaning woman, she surmised.

  ‘Oh, really.’ Rena glanced again at Lily’s shabby clothes. ‘And which gown will you be wearing?’

  ‘The lilac,’ she said. ‘And the black.’

  ‘And for daytime?’ Rena queried. ‘What will you wear when ’constables come knocking on your door, as they inevitably will?’

  Lily hesitated. It was a question that had crossed her mind several times. But she hadn’t any other clothes than those she was wearing.

  ‘You see, Jamie doesn’t think things through,’ Rena went on without waiting for an answer. ‘He only thinks of the moment. He doesn’t realize that there’s ’day to get through as well as ’night.’

  ‘You know about Jamie then?’ Lily asked. ‘You know what his business is?’

  ‘Good gracious, yes.’ Rena sat beside her on a stool and opened up a shoe box. ‘Known him since he was a barefoot lad with torn breeches. He first came to me to buy a gown for his mother. Told me he was setting her up in business.’ She gave a dry laugh. ‘He asked if I’d give him credit. I was so taken aback that I said yes! He thought he was going to make his fortune out of her. But she had other ideas. Married a grocer.’

  ‘So I heard,’ Lily murmured.

  ‘Then he tried again with another young woman who was down on her luck. Huh,’ she snorted. ‘He knows how to pick them. Just bends down into ’gutter and there they all are. But,’ she picked up Lily’s foot and slipped on one of the black evening slippers with a silver bow, ‘he was let down again. There!’ she said, sitting back. ‘He doesn’t stay down for long doesn’t Jamie, I’ll say that for him. How do they feel? Finest leather and hardly worn.’

  ‘I don’t know if I shall have enough money.’ Lily loved them but they looked very expensive. She counted out the money in her pocket. ‘I was wondering about getting another skirt.’

  Rena got up and riffled through a rail of garments. ‘I’ll never make my fortune at this rate,’ she sighed, taking out a grey wool dress. ‘Try this. Come on,’ she urged as Lily hesitated. ‘I can see you’re not going to be one of Jamie’s girls so you’ll need to be presentable during ’day. You can still wear those boots, if you must,’ she said, ‘and save the shoes for the evening.’

  Lily tried the dress on in a curtained alcove. It was very plain, with a buttoned, high-necked bodice. Very elegant, she thought, and very respectable. No one would ever guess. She drew back the curtain.

  ‘Perfect,’ Rena exclaimed, nodding her head in satisfaction. ‘Quite the lady of the house.’

  Lily kept the grey dress on and gave Rena all the money she had been allocated for the shoes. ‘You can pay ’balance when you’re earning,’ Rena said. ‘That’s if Jamie ever pays you.’

  ‘Oh, he will,’ Lily said firmly. ‘Otherwise we’ll all leave. I’ll tek ’girls with me.’

  ‘And set up in opposition?’ Rena gave a cynical smile. ‘Be careful,’ she said. ‘Jamie would report you to ’authorities. He’d spread rumours about you.’ She handed Lily the shoe box and began bundling up the old skirt and shawl.

  ‘I’ll tek those,’ Lily said. ‘I know somebody who’s wearing worse rags than mine.’

  Rena nodded, and taking a shawl from a shelf wrapped it round Lily’s shoulders. ‘What happened to you?’ she asked softly. ‘Why are you doing this? You’re not from Hull?’

  ‘No.’ Lily’s mouth trembled. ‘I’m from another life. I’ve been propelled into this one through no wish of mine. Everything has happened so fast,’ she confided. ‘I was a married woman, then I was sold like a prize pig at ’market. I lost a babby I was carrying. My young daughter has gone to work for someone as a lady’s maid, my son has run away to sea and now I’m to run a brothel.’

  Rena patted her arm. ‘I’m sure there are worse things.’

  Lily’s eyes filled with tears. ‘If there are I’ve never known them. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I’d come to summat like this.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But I have and I just have to mek ’best of it.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Ted stood pondering at the side of the narrow waterway. He had been directed there by a man in the street whom he’d asked the nearest way to the docks.

  ‘What kind o’ ship do you want, lad? Cargo ship, whaling ship, fishing smack, barge, ferryboat?’

  ‘Erm.’ He’d hesitated. ‘One that sails to foreign countries.’

  ‘What sort o’ country?’ The man started to grin, which had irritated Ted. ‘A cold country like ’Arctic? Sweden? Plenty o’ ships going to ’Baltic.’

  ‘Yeh,’ Ted nodded, anxious to be rid of him. ‘Them countries. Where will ’ships going there be docked?’

  The man directed him to the Old Harbour. ‘You’ll find plenty o’ ships in ’Old Harbour, but whether you’ll get work is a different matter. If there’s nowt doing there then go to ’New Dock.’

  There were dozens of ships; keels, cutters and barges, packed so tightly that Ted wondered how they would ever get out and make their way to the Humber. But they’re not ocean-going, he thought. Most of these are river and canal boats, and although he didn’t want to go to the frozen wastes of the Arctic and, he considered, was unlikely to be taken on for a whaling voyage without seag
oing experience, neither did he want to sail only in inland waters.

  Nor did he want to go fishing; the cold dark waters of the German Ocean he knew to be dangerous to those who didn’t know its moods.

  A merchant ship, he thought. One that takes merchandise to other countries and brings goods back from theirs. That would be all right.

  Ted was in blissful ignorance of the world at large as he stood there dithering. He was a country lad whose world had been bounded by his surroundings and the seasons of the year. Spring was when the cowslips came up, and sticklebacks, minnows and frogspawn appeared in the pools and ponds, and it was time for planting out the new season’s vegetables or digging up the first new potatoes. Summer was when white blossom speckled the rich green of the hedgerows, and he woke every morning to trilling birdsong and the sight of young corn swaying in the fields, growing faster and more golden as the weather grew warmer. Then there was autumn and harvest time, with the smoky aroma of fires and the wheeling swallows practising for their departure, and a few weeks later the rushing sound of birds’ wings as the early geese, fieldfares, snipe and the rest flew in across the sea towards the feeding grounds of the Humber. Then came winter when the cold nipped cheeks and noses and the ground was too hard to dig, and wood had to be fetched in for the fires.

  Ted could read for his mother had taught him, though he had spent little time at school, preferring to skive off and spend his days out of doors; but he had no interest in books or newspapers and so he had missed the talk of foreign revolution and the social struggle between liberal bourgeois and radical republicans. Had he been older he might, in a local hostelry over a glass of ale, have discussed with other men the tales of great unrest in central Europe.

  He might have heard tell of the conflicts in France, Germany, Hungary, Austria and Italy, countries which were all confronted by political problems. Hungary’s relations with the Serbians and Croatians were at their lowest point. Austria was at odds with Northern Italy. The previous year Franz Joseph of Austria had appealed for help to the Russian Tsar Nicholas I but the tsar was fearful that the revolution would spread to Russia. Fighting raged between France and Italy and Garibaldi’s troops were driven away. And as Ted stood debating his choices, France was introducing freedom of religious education, and there were ominous rumblings of nervousness, disquiet and discontent.

  I’ll walk round to the New Dock, he thought. There’ll mebbe be bigger ships there. A harsh voice called to him. ‘Oy! Catch, will ya?’ A rope came whistling towards him from the deck of a barge and instinctively he put up his hand and caught it.

  ‘Fasten it round that bollard,’ a seaman on board called to him. ‘Make it fast till I get there.’

  He did as he was asked; how to make a clove hitch was one of the first things he had been taught when he started work on a farm. He secured it firmly. The seaman jumped from the deck to the dock. ‘Thanks, lad,’ he said. ‘Well done. Are you an apprentice?’

  ‘I’m – I’m not!’ Ted stammered. ‘I’ve come looking for work.’

  ‘Oh, yeh? Been sailing afore?’

  Ted shook his head. ‘Onny pottering about. But I’m willing to learn.’

  The man surveyed him. ‘You can come wi’ me to Driffield, if you like. My crewman’s broke his arm and I need some help wi’ hauling. What do you say?’

  ‘Driffield!’ It wasn’t what he had in mind. He’d been thinking more of a trip abroad. ‘I don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘I was thinking of summat bigger.’ This was a Humber keel, a flat-bottomed goods carrier, built for shallow river beds and canals, though he had seen them hugging the coastline close to Seathorne.

  ‘She’s big enough,’ the skipper told him. ‘And fast when ’wind is right. She’s sailed up ’Aire canal, Sheffield, up ’Trent and ’Ouse. And ’Humber. She can do all of them even if she is an owd lass. So make up your mind. I’m sailing as soon as I get a lad.’

  ‘I’ll come,’ Ted said swiftly. ‘I’ve nowt to stop me. What ’you carrying?’

  ‘Coal. We’ve to collect it, get it weighed and then we’re off. Are you a country lad?’ The skipper’s eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t sound like Hull.’

  ‘Yeh,’ Ted admitted, ‘I am. I wanted a change of occupation. There’s nowt much doing on ’land at ’minute.’

  ‘What? This time o’ year? I’d have thought there was plenty of work about.’ He eyed him up. ‘Not in trouble, are you? I’ll not have you if you are. I’ve enough to do wi’out ’constables climbing all over me.’

  ‘No. No,’ Ted said hastily. ‘It’s just that I’ve got nobody, so I can please myself what I do.’ It feels like I’ve got nobody, he thought, so it’s not really a lie.

  The skipper nodded. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Go stow your gear and we’ll be off. You’ll find Bob, me mate, below. He’ll show you what to do.’

  Ted had no gear, only his blanket, which he slung over his shoulder as he climbed down through the hatch. The mate Bob had his arm in a sling and was drinking a mug of tea. ‘Who are you, then?’ he said brusquely.

  ‘Erm, Ted Maddeson. I’m coming to Driffield wi’ you.’

  ‘Are you? Have you sailed afore?’

  Ted shook his head. ‘No. But I was looking for a job.’

  ‘You’ll not last ’week out,’ Bob grumbled. ‘Why’s he tekken on somebody who knows nowt.’

  ‘Because.’ The skipper slid down the steps making the space below very crowded. ‘I want to be off and I won’t be able to tek on a regular lad. Can’t afford it for one thing, unless you’re thinking of retiring,’ he added sarcastically.

  ‘Does that mean I’m onny doing this one trip?’ Ted asked boldly. ‘You won’t just drop me off in Driffield, will you?’

  ‘No. You can do ’return trip with us, but I onny want somebody to tide me over till Bob’s arm’s in use again.’

  ‘Will I get wages?’

  ‘Aye, some, but you’ll get food and lodgings on board so you won’t earn much. Are you coming or not?’

  Ted shrugged. ‘Might as well, I suppose. I’ve nivver been to Driffield.’

  Bob laughed. ‘You’ll not have time to see ’sights,’ he said. ‘We’ll unload, load up and be back again.’

  ‘What, in ’same day?’ Ted was astonished.

  ‘No, you daft lump! As long as it teks. Might be three days, might be three weeks. Depends on wind and how good you are at hauling. But we’ll mek time for a glass or two whilst we’re there. How old are you?’

  ‘Thirteen,’ he said, and then wished he’d said older.

  But the skipper, who said to call him Ken, nodded and said, ‘Old enough.’

  The next morning Ted stood on deck, his hands in his pockets, whistling softly. He had been first up and had brewed a pot of tea for the men. They had set sail last evening after loading up with coal and were now on their journey towards River Head at Driffield where they would unload, swill down and pick up a return cargo. It was a beautiful morning and he mused that this was just about as good as living in the country. On each side of the bank contented cows had their heads down in the meadow grass and he gave a fleeting thought to their cow at Seathorne and hoped that John Ward had milked her.

  He had been dead tired last night after the journey into Hull and the work on board as he’d helped to load the coal, and he was asleep in minutes as the motion of the keel – Daisy, it was named, the same as his sister – rocked and soothed him. He was awakened by the honking of geese and for a second he didn’t know where he was. The guilt of Billy Fowler’s accident was fading, and as he gazed out along the waterway he thought that this was possibly a good kind of life, although not as adventurous as he might have wished for. Bob had said he would show him how to operate the locks when they reached the Driffield canal and the skipper had told him he’d teach him how to handle the sails.

  He looked up as a flock of wigeon flew over. The sky was a brilliant blue with only a scattering of soft white clouds; a family of moorhens were busying themselves in a nest b
y the bank, half hidden by a drooping willow whose branches touched the water, and as he watched a bevy of ducks up-ended and dipped their heads. He gave a deep sigh. Yes, all in all, he thought, I reckon I made a good decision. For ’time being anyway.

  John Ward did as he said he would and rode into Withernsea to report a missing woman and her daughter. ‘I don’t trust yon fellow,’ he’d whispered to his wife outside the door. ‘There’s summat not quite right.’

  Billy Fowler was sitting by the fire wrapped in the blanket whilst his clothes steamed on a wooden horse. His head was sunk on his chest and he seemed to have fallen asleep.

  ‘Will you be all right on your own wi’ him?’ John Ward asked his wife. ‘It shouldn’t tek me all that long to find ’constable and he can mek ’decision over what to do.’

  ‘I’ll get me rolling pin out,’ she’d said in a low voice. ‘But he’ll not try owt; he asked to stop here for ’night, didn’t he? He’s nowhere else to go.’

  Ward notified the constable and told him of his suspicions. ‘House has gone ower ’cliff,’ he said. ‘But I don’t know for sure if his missis and bairn were in it. I’ve not seen ’em about for a day or two.’

  ‘Well, what ’you telling me?’ The constable was peeved at having his evening disturbed. ‘Have they or not?’

  ‘Well, Fowler says they have. He said they were in ’house wi’ him.’ He shook his head. ‘But his story’s all wrong. He said as lad were there as well, but I saw him ride off on ’hoss.’

  ‘Well, mebbe he came back,’ the constable said irritably. ‘You weren’t watching all ’time, were you?’

  ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I wasn’t.’

  ‘So why isn’t Fowler reporting this incident? Why’s he sent you?’

  ‘He didn’t send me,’ Ward answered sharply. ‘That’s just it. He didn’t want me to do owt. He just said they were drowned.’

  ‘All right,’ the officer said reluctantly. ‘I’ll have to ride down to Spurn to notify ’Humber lifeboat men and tell ’em to look for two bodies. Can’t think they’ll put off tonight, though, and in any case if they are in ’sea it’ll be too late to do owt for ’em.’