by Anna King
‘Liar,’ Liz spat at her, her face working furiously. ‘What do you take me for, Maggie? You stand there and tell me you’ve been working for a couple of hours in a pub in Whitechapel and expect me to believe you. The pneumonia may have left me weak, it didn’t make me daft. For a start, it would have taken you nearly an hour just to get there and back, that’s without the time spent asking in the other pubs for work, like you say you did. Now I know we don’t have the clock any more so I can’t be positive about the time, but I do know you haven’t had time to do all you say you’ve been doing.’
‘Liz, please listen to me…’ Maggie pleaded desperately.
‘Shut up, Maggie,’ Liz hissed between clenched teeth.
‘Just shut up until I’ve finished and then you can tell me where exactly this pub is, you know, the one that pays girls three guineas for supposedly two hours’ work. Well! I’m waiting.’ Liz glared at Maggie, her chest heaving with agitation at the look of fear and guilt that passed over her young sister’s face. Then with an enraged cry she sprang forward, the sudden action causing Maggie to stagger back in alarm.
The raised voices penetrated Charlie’s light slumber. Lifting himself up onto his elbows, he was about to call out to Maggie when an inner instinct warned him to remain silent. He was used to the sound of his sisters arguing and had no wish to be dragged into another fight. Putting his fingers tightly into his ears, he burrowed as far beneath the blanket as he could.
‘You stole it, didn’t you?’ Lizzie’s voice rose higher. ‘There’s no other way you could have got hold of money like that without thieving; or worse.’
Steadying herself on the arm of the sofa, Maggie felt a surge of relief rush through her body. Liz thought she had stolen the money, thank God. Well she wouldn’t contradict her, she’d far rather be thought of as a thief than admit to the truth. Raising her head she returned Liz’s wrathful gaze, but the look of hurt reflected in the thin face forced her to turn away.
Lord, what a mess she had landed herself in, and what a time for Liz to choose to return to the land of the living. For months now, Maggie had been praying for Liz to snap out of the apathetic state she’d wallowed in since her illness. Now she wished fervently that her sister had remained in the twilight world where she’d been living for so long. At least then she, Maggie, wouldn’t have had to faced this barrage of questions that were being fired at her. Then again, if Liz had tried harder to get well, then she wouldn’t have had to take to the streets in the first place.
Oh, hell! hell! hell! What was done was done. She couldn’t undo the events of the evening, and apportioning blame wasn’t going to help either. She’d just have to brazen it out as best she could for now, and hope that Liz wouldn’t continue to press her for details about the money. But that forlorn hope was quickly quashed.
‘Well, I’m still waiting. I want to know everything you did tonight, and neither of us is getting any sleep until you tell me exactly what happened.’
‘Give it a rest, Liz, please,’ Maggie answered wearily. ‘You know what happened, it’s like you said, I stole it; happy now? So if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep, you can carry on where you left off in the morning.’
‘Oh, no you don’t, you’re not getting off that easy,’ Liz cried determinedly. Her arm shot out, her hand grabbing at the woollen shawl draped across Maggie’s shoulders. Caught off guard, Maggie felt the protective covering pulled from her upper body. With a frantic effort she tried to hide her torn blouse with her hands, but the damage had already been done.
‘My God, Maggie, what have you done?’ Liz stood as if turned to stone, her voice dropping to a whisper as she watched Maggie valiantly try to pull the ripped pink material together. ‘It’s not what you think, Liz,’ Maggie gabbled, her eyes wide with fear as she saw the look of horror cross Liz’s face.
‘Honest, I know what it looks like, but if you’ll just let me ex—’
‘You’ve been on the streets, haven’t you? That’s where you got the money from, you’ve gone on the game.’
The shawl dropped from her lifeless fingers as the full enormity of what her sister had done seared through her shocked mind. Mental images of Maggie and a faceless man floated before her eyes and she shook her head violently as if to clear the disgusting scenes from her mind. Then, her face filled with contempt and loathing she advanced upon the trembling figure.
‘Liz, Liz, please, listen to me, it wasn’t my fault. If you’ll just li—’ Maggie implored, her eyes widening as Liz’s arm swept up towards her face.
’Whore!’ The up-stretched arm swung outwards, the back of the hand catching Maggie viciously across the face spinning her round and over the arm of the sofa head first onto the cold, hard floor. Maggie felt the world go black as her head collided with the stone floor, the impact jolting her entire body. The blackness lasted only a few seconds and when she gingerly opened her eyes, tiny specks of red spots seemed to be dancing in front of her. Through a mist of pain she thought ruefully that for someone supposedly too ill to work, Liz was surprisingly strong. She tried to lift her head and was rewarded for her effort by a sharp, excruciating pain knifing through her forehead.
‘Come on, get up, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ Maggie felt hands tugging at her arm and weakly tried to pull away.
‘Don’t pretend you’re hurt, you’re going to get a lot more than that before I’m finished with you.’ Liz muttered, her voice filled with righteous indignation.
It was the tone of moral outrage that penetrated Maggie’s fogged brain, and the injustice of Liz’s behaviour acted like a spur to Maggie. The fear left her, to be replaced by a smouldering anger, and pushing away the groping hands she staggered to her feet. When she saw Liz raise her arm again she said evenly, ‘Don’t you dare touch me, Liz. Not now, not ever again, or I swear I’ll do for you.’ Her voice pitched dangerously low, she continued to hold Liz’s gaze, but not until she saw the threatening arm lowered did she move to the settee. Dropping heavily onto the worn cushions she closed her eyes, the pain in her temples making her feel sick.
‘Don’t get too comfortable, ’cos you’re not stopping here, not after what you’ve done, I just hope the neighbours never find out, that’s all, I couldn’t bear the shame.’ Liz had gone back to stand by the mantelpiece, the flickering candle throwing her shadow onto the wall as she pulled at her fingers in agitation while keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the blackened iron bars surrounding the empty fire grate. When the soft laughter filled the silence she felt her back stiffen, and when the sound grew louder she turned her head warily in its direction.
‘Oh, you’re priceless, Liz, you really are.’ Maggie sat on the edge of the settee, her elbows resting on her knees. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, we’re due to be evicted tomorrow, and then there won’t be any neighbours to worry about, will there? Of course, we could always use the money I “earned” tonight, but I wouldn’t insult you by suggesting that option. I mean, you’d rather be thrown out into the street than take dirty money, wouldn’t you, Liz?’ She saw the look of uncertainty cross Liz’s face and felt the anger and hurt rise in her breast. She knew her sister well enough to know that now the first rush of anger had passed, she’d be weighing up the situation and wondering at what to do for her own best interest.
This was proved when Liz, licking her lips, blustered, ‘Well, now you’ve disgraced yourself, we might as well make use of the money. I mean, there’s no point in letting ourselves be thrown out when we can pay what’s owing, is there?’
For a moment Maggie thought she was going to be sick. She’d known all along that Liz would take the money, but what really stuck in her throat was the blatant hypocrisy her sister had displayed. Her stomach churning with anger, her voice filled with anguish, she cried, ‘You hypocrite, you bloody hypocrite, standing there so full of moral indignation, sitting in judgement on me when what happened tonight was partly your fault.’
‘My fault! Now don’t you try and shift the blam
e onto me, Maggie, I didn’t force you onto the streets, you thought of that idea all by yourself,’ Liz answered back uneasily. ‘I didn’t…’
‘I didn’t, I didn’t, that’s all you can say, and you’re right, you didn’t. You didn’t bloody do anything, did you? You haven’t done anything for the past two months except sit around pretending to be an invalid. If you’d got up off your arse and helped me look for work, I wouldn’t have had to take to the streets in order to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. Well, don’t worry about being sullied by my presence. Come tomorrow I’m not waiting for Mr Bates to chuck us out – I’m leaving before he comes, and I’m taking Charlie with me.’
‘Oh no you’re not,’ Liz shouted wildly. ‘You’re not fit to look after him, he’s staying with me.’
‘Why? So you can push him out to work for you, you lazy cow. You don’t care for him any more than you do for me, you’ve proved that tonight. Anyway, he’s old enough to decide for himself, but we both know who he’ll choose given the chance, don’t we?’
They stared at each other across the dimly-lit room, each one knowing the situation had gotten out of their control but neither of them knowing how to get things back to normal.
The silence lengthened until Maggie, her voice bitter, said, ‘You were so quick to judge, weren’t you? You immediately thought the worst of me, even though I’ve never given you cause to. Well, I was telling the truth, believe it or not. It’s true I went out intending to earn some money any way I could, but when it came down to it I lost my nerve. I was on my way home when it happened, but I wasn’t to blame. A man grabbed me and forced me into an alley. I was raped, Liz, I didn’t go on the game, I was raped, and it was the most terrible thing that’s ever happened to me, and… and it hurt… it hurt so bad…’
Liz could feel her heart racing, and a part of her urged her to go to Maggie and comfort her, but she couldn’t. Ever since the death of their parents when they’d been forced down into this rathole, a slow anger had been burning inside her. An anger that had continued building at each new blow that life dealt them. The burden of knowing that Maggie and Charlie were dependent on the wage she brought home had weighed heavily on her mind. When Maggie had found a job, the onus of responsibility had been lifted from her, and for a while she’d imagined that they would someday be able to leave this place and go somewhere where they’d be happy again; be a family again. And then she’d fallen ill, and her whole world had once again been turned upside down. With both of them out of a job and the workhouse looming before them, she had made no effort to get better. Every day as she’d watched Maggie leave the basement in search of work, a feeling of guilt had attacked her, a feeling she had dampened down, telling herself that if Maggie couldn’t find work there wasn’t any point in her tramping the streets as well.
Then this evening, when Maggie had told her that they would be out on the street the next day, the anger had returned. It had lain inside her chest, smouldering quietly while she’d waited for Maggie to return home. And when she’d seen the money in the outstretched palm, and then the further evidence of the torn blouse, the guilt and anger had merged into one explosive, tearing emotion. The blow she had felled Maggie with hadn’t been directed at her, but at life itself.
Liz knew Maggie was waiting for her to speak, to offer some words of comfort and understanding, but her own feeling of guilt prevented her from uttering the much-needed words. She needed to hit out, to inflict hurt on somebody, and who better than the girl sitting across the room? Her mouth curling cruelly, she heard the words leave her lips before she could stop them.
‘That’s a new one, I’ve never heard of a rapist paying for it before.’
The sneering words hit Maggie in the face, causing her as much pain as the blow had done. With a low scream she was across the room knocking Liz to the floor. Kicking and screaming, the two girls rolled back and forth, their fingers pulling unmercifully at each other’s hair, both of them grateful to have found an outlet for their anger.
‘Stop it, stop it, Liz, let go of Maggie, let go, stop it…!’ Unable to keep quiet any longer, Charlie had leapt from his bed and run across the room. Now he danced around the thrashing figures, his terrified entreaties unheard above the screeching of the combatants locked in mortal battle.
‘Give over, please, oh please,’ he sobbed pitifully as his small hands tried futilely to prise the girls apart. Not knowing what else to do, he threw himself into the mêlée, collecting a blow to his head for his troubles. His loud howl of pain acted like a bucket of cold water on the girls, as they stopped fighting to comfort the figure rolling on the floor.
‘Oh, Charlie, oh you poor thing, are you all right?’ Maggie cried anxiously, worried in case he was really hurt, yet grateful for an excuse to stop the fight.
‘No, I ain’t, my head hurts, one of you kicked me.’ His doleful expression looked from one to the other, and both girls bowed their heads in shame. The three figures remained huddled close, none wanting to be the first to move. And when Liz moved her body slightly to ease the pressure on her leg, Maggie thought for moment she was going to start the fight again and raised her arms protectively. They were both trying not to cry, and when Liz put a tentative hand out Maggie grabbed at it gratefully. Then they were in each other’s arms, sobbing as they told each other how sorry they were, stumbling over their words in an effort to make things right between them again. Squashed between them lay a bemused Charlie, forgotten for the moment as his sisters tried to bury their differences.
Maggie was the first to rise, holding out her hand to Liz to help her from the floor. Charlie peered up at the two figures, wondering what this row had been over. It must have been a bad one as they’d never come to blows before.
‘Upsadaisy, Charlie,’ Maggie said, her voice trembling with relief. Then, turning to Liz, she asked tremulously,
‘How about if we go out and get some food, and maybe a bit of wood to build a fire?’
Liz looked at her in surprise, then sniffing loudly she said, ‘What, now, at this time of night?’
‘Why not?’ Maggie replied shakily. ‘We could get some pies and peas from outside The George. The stall never closes until the pub empties, and old Fred sleeps with his barrow of firewood.’
The thought of hot food and a blazing fire won over Liz’s reservations at setting out at such a late hour.
‘Well, all right then.’ Her voice still held a tremor as she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders.
When they were ready, they stood by the door smiling wanly at each other. Promising Charlie they wouldn’t be long, they set off before he could make any protest at being left on his own.
* * *
‘This man, you know, the one that brought you home, what’s he like?’
They were sitting in front of a roaring fire, the hot pies and peas resting comfortably in their stomachs. Charlie had been put back to bed with a happy smile on his face, and now the girls sat curled up at either end of the sofa ready to talk. Resting her elbow on the arm of the sofa, Maggie cupped the side of her face in her hand as she pondered the question. She could see him clearly in her mind as they’d stood under the gas lamp, but how could she describe him to Liz? Could she tell her about the way his dark, wavy hair curled out from beneath his shiny black hat, hair that sat above a face that was neither handsome or ugly. Or maybe she could attempt to describe his eyes, those deep blue eyes that had gazed down at her, their look filled with compassion and concern. No; she could say none of these things to Liz, they were her memories, memories she wanted to keep to herself for reasons she couldn’t fully understand. Yet she had to give some kind of answer.
So, speaking softly, she replied, ‘He was kind to me. I don’t know why he stopped to help me, not a gentleman like him, but he did, and I didn’t even thank him. I thought he was after something, like the… the other one, and I was rude to him, and suspicious. But he never even tried to touch me, not even when we were alone in the cab. And th
en when we got here, he helped me down and told me if ever I needed help to get in touch with him. Not that I would, of course, but it was nice of him to say it.’
‘Well, it’s easy enough to say, isn’t it?’ Liz said lazily. ‘I mean, he was safe enough telling you that seeing as you wouldn’t be able to find him again anyway.’
‘Oh, no, you’re wrong there, Liz, he gave me his card,’ Maggie said, quickly jumping to the unknown man’s defence. ‘He’s probably wishing he hadn’t now, but he wouldn’t have given it to me if he hadn’t meant what he said at the time, would he?’
Liz swivelled round to face her, her eyes wide with disbelief. ‘He gave you his card? You must be joking, Maggie. Either that or he was making fun of you – let’s have a look at it.’
For a moment, Maggie toyed with the idea of pretending she’d thrown it away, but her own curiosity and a desire to prove Liz wrong overcame her misgivings. Moving her legs to one side, she delved deep into her pocket, her fingers closing around the stiff card. For a brief second she held onto it, then with a triumphant gesture she handed it over to Liz.
‘There, have a look if you don’t believe me.’
Liz took the card, then leaning forward on her knees she held it out towards the fire to see it better.
Her eyes scanned the gold lettering quickly, then turning to look at Maggie she said blithely, ‘How do you know it’s his? This could belong to anybody, I wouldn’t set much stock by it if I were you.’
Putting her hand out, Maggie snatched it back angrily.‘It is his, I’m sure of it, and that’s not all, he gave me something else as well.’ Plunging her hand back into her pocket she searched for the wad of paper and felt a moment’s panic when she couldn’t find it. Standing up swiftly she dug deeper then sighed with relief as her fingers found what she was searching for.
