‘The regime is intended to be beneficial to their rehabilitation.’ Emily sighed. ‘But life on board those ships is harsh. To be plain about it, those young men are sent to be broken. They are worked relentlessly and suffer punishments for minor infractions, almost like the sailors were in the Napoleonic Wars. This woman I mentioned cared for her nephew enough not to let that happen, but she had no income to support the boy and came to us for help.’
‘Couldn’t he have been employed at one of the factories or a foundry?’ Bunny asked. ‘I believe they are the main employers in this area?’
‘She tried, but he was dismissed after a week.’ Emily’s wry look indicated it was not a good experience. ‘He hated being inside, so his aunt thought life on a farm would suit him. Anyway, the reason I mentioned her is because she appeared under the impression that the Army paid a fee in exchange for sending young people to positions in Canada where they were wanted.’
‘I take it that isn’t the case?’ Bunny asked.
Emily shook her head. ‘It’s true the Bureau pays their travelling expenses but never offers money to families. When my colleague asked her where she had learned this, she insisted a friend of hers had been given money from the Bureau to send her daughter to a farm in Canada to work as a lady’s maid two months before.’
‘A lady’s maid? On a farm?’ Flora said, sceptical.
‘Exactly. This woman had been sworn to secrecy, due to the demand, apparently. She was told there was a waiting list. If she revealed she had been given preferential treatment, the offer would be withdrawn.’
‘And the fee paid for the girl subject to return, I gather?’ Bunny stroked his chin with his free hand, the other arm still rested against Flora’s shoulders. ‘Quite an effective way to keep their activities secret.’
‘Indeed,’ Emily said. ‘And if this woman hadn’t come to us, we might never have discovered the fraud. Word has gone out to our other missions to keep an eye out for the couple involved, but as I am sure you can imagine, it’s not easy. Most of our work is done on the streets, so looking for one couple is proving nigh on impossible. The pair wear authentic-looking uniforms and carry collection boxes. They have only been seen a few times and by the time word gets back and we go looking, they have gone.’
‘The couple who were in the Lamb and Flag the other night were imposters?’ Flora turned a shocked look on Bunny.
‘You know who these people are?’ Emily split a look between them.
‘Not exactly,’ Bunny said thoughtfully. ‘Though your account fits in with what I have begun to suspect myself.’
‘We must tell Inspector Maddox,’ Flora interjected.
‘In good time, Flora. We’ll have to tread carefully. We aren’t very popular with Maddox at the moment.’
‘You mean I’m not.’ Flora sniffed. ‘Captain Blake - Emily. Has your organization reported this to the police?’
‘Ah, no.’ Emily glanced down, as a flush bloomed in her cheeks. ‘We were hoping to discover the culprits ourselves. I’m afraid the police disapprove of our methods in the spread of God’s word. They claim that our bands and parades cause disruption in the streets and anger from the more conservative denominations. If the story about this couple gets into the newspapers, the scandal could ruin us.’
Flora was about to ask if the army’s reputation was worth more than the children, but caught Bunny’s imperceptible shake of his head and thought better of it.
‘Thank you for being so candid with us, Emmie.’ Bunny rose, retrieved Flora’s still full cup and placed it with his own on the tray. ‘I would have understood had you refused to tell us anything at all.’ A remark, Flora assumed, was aimed at her. ‘If we discover any more about this couple, we’ll be sure to let you know. And conversely, if you receive any intelligence—’
‘I would like to say I would inform you immediately.’ Emily rose with them, a doubt in her eyes. ‘However, I’m obliged to obey the tenets of the army, and my superiors might insist on total privacy.’ She must have seen the disappointment on their faces and her expression softened. ‘But I will do what I can.’
‘Our address is in my letter,’ Bunny said. ‘As is our telephone number.’
Emily laughed, a girlish, charming laugh which made her quite lovely. ‘I’m afraid we don’t run to such luxuries here in Whitechapel.’
As she showed them back the way they had come, Flora noticed she didn’t promise to get a message to them by any other means either.
*
Once out on the street again, their presence acted as a source of entertainment, prompting Flora to regret not having asked the cabbie to wait for them. Doors opened and ragged children spilled onto the street to stare at them as they passed by. Women in none-too-clean creased and darned clothes leaned against door frames, aiming half-threatening looks their way, while others held contempt or hopeful expressions.
‘You didn’t tell me Captain Blake was a woman. And a very attractive one at that.’ She eased closer to Bunny as two urchins ran past her, both being shouted at by an indignant greengrocer. The boys disappeared into an alley, leaving the disgruntled shopkeeper to retrieve the apples the boys had dislodged from a pyramid on a trestle outside the shop.
‘Would it have made a difference?’ The corner of Bunny’s mouth twitched without becoming a smile.
‘Maybe, maybe not. How would you feel if I produced a presentable young man, held his hand and called him by a babyish name and announced we had known each other for years?’
‘Challenge him to a duel in Hyde Park at dawn, naturally.’ He cast a sideways look at her from beneath lowered brows, though his eyes behind his spectacles glinted with amusement.
‘Don’t mock me.’ She pouted, aware there was no real threat from Emily. ‘I’m simply unaccustomed to having your former paramours, or whatever you call them paraded before me.’
‘Hardly a paramour, and I refute having paraded her. We haven’t seen each other since we were sixteen.’
‘Old enough for the pangs of first love.’
‘You are my first love, Flora. My only love, so you have nothing to worry about.’ Bunny took her hand in both of his. ‘Although I also adore the fact that you are jealous, therefore I forgive you for being less than your normal polite self.’
‘I’m not jealous!’ Her cheeks flamed, though at the same time she acknowledged to herself that she had been sharp. A little.
‘Silly me.’ He increased the pressure of his hand on hers. ‘I must have misunderstood. Oh, there’s a cab.’
‘Thank goodness.’ Flora sighed. ‘I thought we would have to walk all the way to London Bridge.’
The tension left her as she settled on the seat of the glass cab, relieved to be inside and separate from shabby streets that made her feel exposed and vulnerable in a way she had not experienced since Southwark.
‘I accept that your Emily Blake is an intelligent, dedicated young woman.’ Flora ventured the doubt that had niggled at her as they sat in the plain little room at the mission, ‘But I suspect her loyalties aren’t the same as ours.’
‘I got that impression too.’ Bunny adjusted the blanket provided over Flora’s knees.
‘It looks as if we’ll have to find and expose these imposters ourselves.’ She eyed the slightly musty smelling object, unable to help wondering about its origins, and resolved not to touch it more often than necessary.
‘I agree, but the fact Emily told us about them means she is also aware we would have to pass the information on to Inspector Maddox.’
‘I didn’t think of that.’ Flora sneaked an admiring look at his profile with a rush of pride. She liked to think his willing participation was because children were at risk, although perhaps, like her, he was finally beginning to enjoy the excitement of the chase?
Preoccupied, Flora stared out of the hackney at the shabby buildings where most of the shopkeepers’ goods spilled onto the pavements and manure sweepers were few and far between. Whitechapel possessed an ai
r of desperation, where no one smiled, and every eye Flora met glared back expressionless or slid away. Everything from the buildings to the clothes people wore merged into an amalgam of black or brown as if all the colour and life had been leached from its inhabitants and buildings.
How could a young woman like Emily Blake, who was attractive, intelligent and should have been mistress of her own home by now, bear to spend her days in such a depressing, joyless place? As soon as this thought occurred to her it was replaced with another. If not Emily and people like her, who else was there to help such unfortunates?
‘You’ve gone quiet,’ Bunny said after a few moments. ‘Yet I can sense a growing excitement that you believe we might be close to solving this mystery.’
‘Not solving, but what Emily told us about this couple is important. At first I thought they were Sister Lazarus and Swifty Ellis, but had that been the case, surely Abel would have recognised him?’
‘That’s the conclusion I came to. So where does it take us?’
‘The woman could still be Sister Lazarus. And I only say that because I cannot think of anyone else whom it could be.’
‘Not to mention the fact you don’t like her?’
‘Well, yes, but apart from that she’s in possession of a Stanhope which I’m convinced must be one of Mr Buchanan’s. Imagine this.’ Flora twisted on the seat to face him. ‘Sister Lazarus and an accomplice went into The Antigallican dressed as Salvation Army officers with no idea Lizzie worked there. Sister Lazarus saw Lizzie and knowing she could cause trouble for her, warned her to keep her mouth shut. Lizzie, however, had a conscience and the day you and I were on our tour of the hospital, she asked to speak to Alice to tell her what she had seen, but was overheard by Sister Lazarus.’
‘You think Sister Lazarus killed Lizzie to keep her quiet?’
‘Is that so hard to believe? When she arrived with the tea tray that day, her skirt was wet. Why? She had no reason to go outside as the kitchen was next door to Alice’s office.’ He opened his mouth to speak, but she forestalled him with a hand on his arm. ‘I know she said she had to find a handyman to fix the boiler, but we only have her word there was anything wrong with it.’
‘Goodness, Flora, you’ve quite an imagination, the worst of it being there’s every chance you could be right.’
‘I don’t know how we will expose them, but cannot help thinking if anyone knows where Sally is, Sister Lazarus does.’
‘Maybe, but under no circumstances must you confront her. If she did kill Lizzie Prentice she’s dangerous. If you come across her at the hospital, promise me you’ll be discreet and not even hint you suspect her.’
‘That won’t be easy.’ She caught the look on his face and sobered immediately. ‘No, you’re right. I won’t say a word. But it won’t stop me looking for proof of her involvement.’
Chapter 25
When Flora woke the next morning, a curtain of yellowish-grey fog pressed against the bedroom window, almost completely obscuring the houses opposite. Costermongers guided their horse drawn carts through silent deserted streets. Slow moving shadows whose disembodied calls were quickly swallowed up by the cloying mist.
Her morning visit to the nursery did not improve her state of mind with Arthur made fretful by the oppressive mist that crept beneath the doors and the sides of window frames. He would not settle on Flora’s lap, his chubby body rigid in her arms, dimpled fists clenched as he made his unhappiness evident in a long, unrelenting scream.
Conscious she was making things worse, Flora left him to Milly, whose murmured endearments followed her out of the room, turning almost instantly to happy gurgles. By the time Flora reached the ground floor she had sunk into self-pitying despair, though common sense told her Arthur’s response was to be expected when Milly was the one who cared for him all day.
The sound of raised voices in the rear hall drove her onwards in the hope that there was some news of Sally, but she walked into a quarrel between the housekeeper and laundry maid. At Flora’s approach, Mrs Cope waved the maid back towards the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there, madam.’ She brushed both hands nervously down her skirt.
‘Is something wrong, Mrs Cope?’ Flora sighed, her question perfunctory. She was not in the mood for domestic squabbles today.
‘Just that the silly girl hung the washing out this morning thinking it would be a good idea as the rain had stopped. Now it’s all covered in blacks and she’s giving me gyp about her having to do it all again. She’s threatening to give notice and go home.’
‘She’s a country girl,’ Flora replied, referring to the Sussex-born maid. ‘This will be her first winter here, and the fog can come as a shock. She’ll get used to it.’
‘Well I ’ope she does, at least afore them sheets are scrubbed to ribbons.’ The woman dropped an awkward curtsey and returned to the kitchens, mumbling to herself as she left.
‘This fog is relentless.’ Flora said to Bunny as she entered the sitting room, her hands outstretched to the crackling fire until her cheeks stung, though her toes remained numb with cold. ‘I cannot bear the thought of Arthur’s tiny lungs being attacked by thick, choking fumes that make it difficult to breathe. He’s already fretful and it’s going to get worse as the days get colder. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea leaving Richmond.’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Arthur is well cared for.’ Bunny looked up briefly from a newspaper that looked suspiciously damp. ‘Everyone in the house is miserable today. I’ve instructed Stokes not to bother with any outside work and keep the fires banked up. I also said the staff can make tea whenever they feel inclined. At least we’ll all be warm and comfortable indoors.’
‘You’re too generous.’ Flora shivered, both hands held out to the flames though she didn’t bother to add that the kettle was always on the boil in the kitchen. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. ‘What would your mother say if she knew?’
‘Whatever she likes, she’s not here,’ he mumbled. Discarding the newspaper, he rose and advanced on the sideboard where he riffled through the pile of letters on a silver tray. Selecting a stiff white envelope, he expertly slit it open with a paperknife.
‘I’m sure this fog has thickened since breakfast.’ She nodded to where the maids had lit the gaslights to lift the gloom. ‘The butcher’s boy hasn’t brought the delivery this morning either.’
‘I’m sure we’ll not starve to death.’ Bunny replied, distracted, his forehead creased as he focused on the letter in his hand.
Flora turned to look out at the street again as, unbidden, an image of Sally entered her head. Was she warm and being fed or out in this dreadful weather? Surely if she was still alive they would have heard something? ‘I don’t suppose Inspector Maddox called when I was upstairs?’
‘Unfortunately not.’ Bunny pulled a face. ‘Shall I telephone him? Though I doubt it would make a difference other than remind him we still expect some effort on his part.’
Flora was about to say that might annoy rather than encourage him, but was forestalled by Stokes, who announced that Alice Finch was on the telephone asking for Mr Harrington.
‘Are you sure she said Mr Harrington, Stokes?’ Flora asked when Bunny had gone to take the call.
‘Absolutely, madam.’ Stokes gave her a look as close to a glare as he dared before he withdrew.
‘What did she want?’ Flora asked when Bunny returned shortly afterwards.
‘She would like us to call in at the hospital tomorrow. I could only just hear her. Goodness, it’s freezing out there in the hall.’ He strode back to the hearth and rubbed his hands together over the flames.
‘The rain must have affected the lines,’ Flora said, though with no idea whether this was true or not. ‘Did she say what she wanted to talk about?’
‘No.’ Bunny sank onto the sofa Stokes had thoughtfully pulled closer to the fire. ‘She sounded nervous and kept dropping her voice. As if someone was listening.’
‘Perhaps we sho
uld go now?’ Flora cast a quick look towards the window. ‘Although it would take us a while to get there. That is, if we could find a cab willing to take us.’
‘And I have no intention of driving, not in this.’ Bunny flapped a hand at the window. ‘Plus Miss Finch said St Philomena’s has had an influx of patients with chest infections since yesterday, and insisted we go tomorrow.’
Anxiety tightened Flora’s chest but she kept her voice neutral. Why was Alice being so mysterious? What was it she needed to say that she couldn’t tell them over the telephone?
*
Flora woke the next morning with a mild headache, her multi-layered nightgowns twisted round her in an uncomfortable tangle. The sight of Nell with her morning tea sending fresh dismay through her that she was not Sally, her enquiry for news eliciting a shaken head and a rapid retreat.
After a desultory breakfast, she counted the minutes until it was time to go to St Philomena’s, her head full of questions as to why Alice wanted to see them. Had the police found Isobel Lomax? If so, there would have been no requirement to inform her or Bunny. Or had something else come to light in the hospital?
Dressed in a thick navy blue gown that buttoned to the neck against the damp October cold, Flora descended the stairs into the hall at the same moment Stokes hurried from the rear hall to answer the door.
‘I’m sorry for the intrusion.’ Lydia burst inside. ‘Abel is frantic about Sally. We wondered if you had any news?’
Abel hovered in the door frame, until Stokes gestured him to move so he might shut out the cold. Reluctantly, he stomped inside, leaving large wet footprints on the tiled floor.
Flora experienced a surge of sympathy, knowing Abel felt guilty for having ‘lost’ Sally. ‘I’m sorry, Abel. I wish things were different, but we haven’t heard anything new.’ His unkempt hair and evidence of a careless shave made Flora’s heart ache for him.
‘It ain’t your fault, Miss Flora.’ Abel took a deep breath. ‘I mean, not your fault. I was the one who was supposed to be looking after her.’ Flora was about to protest but he waved her away. ‘I went back to The Antigallican yesterday. Not sure why, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. The barman recognized me so I didn’t ask too many questions, but I heard someone say the police had been looking for Swifty Ellis.’
The Forgotten Children Page 24
