by Dilly Court
Sarah watched helplessly as they squared up to each other. She could tell by the pallor of his skin, and the white lines etched from the corners of his mouth to his chin, that Grey’s hands must be causing him a great deal of pain. It would only take one punch from Trigg’s huge fist to knock him senseless.
‘But I give my word,’ Trigg said, chuckling. ‘Honour amongst thieves and all that, Tobias my boy. I’ll settle for the money and a glass of brandy, this time.’ He pushed Grey into the passage and they both disappeared into the darkness.
Sarah ran to the door and closed it but the smell of Trigg lingered in the room, tainting the atmosphere as if part of him remained there to haunt her. She paced the floor, too agitated to even think about sleep. She had never thought to meet Trigg again but he was even worse than she remembered. Her childish fear of the workhouse master was even greater now that she was a young woman. His whole attitude to her had changed and was even more terrifying than before. The look in his eyes had sickened her and his assumption that Grey had taken advantage of her youth and innocence was revolting.
She came to a halt by the bed, gazing down at Elsie’s inert form with tears in her eyes. She was an unlikely surrogate mother, but despite her odd ways they had dealt well together through the years. Sarah drew the covers up to Elsie’s chin. Now it was her turn to look after the woman who had taken her in and had taught her all she knew. As soon as morning came they would take her to hospital and pray for a miracle. The doctor in Maldon had not held out much hope, but Elsie was a strong woman and a determined one. She, the healer, needed a power greater than her own to save her now. Sarah knelt by her bedside, murmuring the prayers that her mother had taught her when she was a small child. Elsie might worship the pagan gods but Sarah did not think that would be held against her in heaven.
She rose to her feet and put one of the pillows under Elsie’s head. She laid the remainder of the bedding on the floor, one blanket for herself and one for Grey, spacing them as far apart as was possible in a small room. It was difficult to forget Trigg’s vile accusations but she did her best to put them out of her mind. She stoked the fire with the remainder of the coal and sat down to await Grey’s return. After a while she was beginning to feel sleepy, but the sound of approaching footsteps made her suddenly alert. The door opened and she leapt to her feet. ‘Grey?’
‘Yes, it’s me.’ He closed the door and bolted it. ‘You should be asleep, kid. It’s almost two in the morning.’
‘I had to be certain that you were all right.’
He took off his hat and jacket and hung them on a nail high up on the wall, out of reach of nibbling rodents and the armies of ants and cockroaches that skittered across the floor. ‘I’ve paid him, that’s all that matters. He won’t bother me again unless there’s a job he wants me to do, but I’ve had enough of Trigg. I’ll not be working with him again.’
‘He’s a brute.’
‘He’s a villain and you do right to be scared of him. I’ll get you away from here as soon as possible, Sarah. This isn’t the place for you.’
‘But we must get Elsie to hospital.’
‘As soon as it’s light I’ll bring the cart round and we’ll take her to the Charing Cross hospital. That’s the nearest.’
‘I want to stay with her. I don’t want her to wake up in a strange place. She’ll be alone and frightened.’
‘I don’t think Elsie has ever been scared of anything, kid.’ He sat down suddenly. ‘As soon as Elsie’s taken care of I’ll go and get Boxer. The ostler only promised to keep him overnight and I wouldn’t want him to fall into the hands of strangers who might ill-treat the poor brute.’
She was too tired to argue or to challenge his decision. ‘All right. We’ll sort everything out in the morning.’
‘Good girl. Now make yourself comfortable. I’m afraid it’ll have to be the floor, but you take the bedding. I’ll sleep in the chair.’ He smiled. ‘It won’t be the first time. Now get some sleep.’
Elsie was admitted to hospital next morning and Sarah waited outside the cubicle while the doctor examined her. She wished that Grey had been able to stay and give her moral support, but he had left for Essex promising to return as soon as possible. She kept glancing at the clock on the wall but the hands seemed to be stuck in one position. Time was leaden and the heaviness of it pressed in upon her. She tried to keep calm but she was becoming increasingly agitated. Surely they would know something after all this time. She glanced at the clock yet again and was about to get up to make enquiries when the door opened and the doctor stepped out into the corridor. The shred of hope she had been harbouring faded when she saw his grave expression. ‘How is she, doctor? Will she be all right?’
‘In cases like these the patient often succumbs to shock,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Or else infection sets in and there is very little we can do other than keep them sedated and apply dressings soaked in turpentine.’
‘Can I stay with her, doctor?’
‘I’m sorry, miss. It’s against the rules, but you may visit your mother this afternoon between four o’clock and five o’clock.’
She did not bother to explain her relationship to Elsie; it hardly seemed to matter whether or not they were blood relations. She left the hospital in a daze. Having put so much faith in the miracles of modern medicine it was almost impossible to believe that the doctors could fail now. She was beginning to wish she had used the tried and tested salve made from lard, mutton tallow, beeswax and carbolic acid which Elsie had used to treat burns. The mere thought of bandages soaked in turpentine made Sarah wince.
She set off along the Strand, heading in the direction of Wych Street. Grey had given her strict instructions to return to his lodgings and not to open the door to anyone but himself. She intended to do as he asked, but he had given her some money and she wanted to purchase a nightgown for Elsie and a shawl for herself. If she could find a second-hand shop she might be able to afford a change of clothes as well, but it had begun to spit with rain and her straw bonnet would be ruined if she did not take shelter.
She took a short cut through Drury Court, although she knew it to be a dangerous area, the haunt of criminals and families living with crippling poverty in filthy, rat-infested tenements. Men were huddled round a brazier, and women with babies in their arms and toddlers clinging to their skirts stared at her with hostile expressions on their hollow-cheeked faces. Some of them jeered at her, but a few of them held out their hands, begging for money. It was hard to ignore their pleas, which were genuine enough, but if the pickpockets thought she had anything of value about her person she would soon be relieved of her purse, and they might not stop at that. Unwary trespassers in the rookeries could find themselves stripped of their clothing and left to wander the alleyways barefoot and shivering.
The drizzle had turned into a downpour, but at least it saved her from being set upon. The women and children took shelter in the dilapidated buildings and the men gathered in a tighter knot around the fire. Sarah raced across the slippery cobblestones, avoiding the worst piles of filth and excrement that littered the street. She could see the spire of St Mary le Strand, but as she turned the corner into the comparative safety of Wych Street she cannoned into someone coming from the opposite direction and they both tumbled to the ground.
‘Look where you’re damn well going.’ The young woman’s crinoline cage hampered her attempts to rise and she lay on her back, flailing her legs like an upturned beetle.
Sarah scrambled to her feet and proffered her hand. ‘Catch hold.’
‘Ho. There’s a pretty sight.’
Sarah looked up and frowned at a group of men standing nearby who were openly laughing at their plight. ‘If you were gents you’d help a lady in distress.’
‘If we was gents we wouldn’t be enjoying the sight of a young lady’s drawers.’ The younger of the men tipped his cap. ‘And as fine a pair of props as I ever saw.’
The girl grabbed Sarah’s hand and struggled to
her feet, adjusting her skirts. ‘Shut up you idiot,’ she cried, shaking her fist. ‘These are my best duds and they’re ruined.’
The young man grinned. ‘A bit of mud won’t hurt you, love.’
‘Good for the complexion,’ his mate added, chuckling. ‘You’ll have a lovely arse when it’s washed clean. I’ll volunteer for that job, miss.’
‘Oh, will you now.’ She bent down and scooped up a handful of mud mixed with straw and rotten vegetables and threw it in his face. ‘How d’you like it, cully?’
Coughing and spluttering he made as if to strike her but his friend caught him by the arm. ‘You asked for that, chum. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up or we’ll be late back at work and we’ll be for it.’ His companion allowed himself to be dragged away, still uttering dire threats.
Sarah stared at the girl, who was tut-tutting and twisting round in an attempt to see the damage to her green satin gown. Her hat had come off and her copper curls cascaded around her shoulders. Sarah could hardly believe her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. ‘Nettie? Is it really you?’
‘Who’s asking?’ Nettie turned her head and her eyes widened. ‘Little Sal Scratch? Is it you, all grown up and covered with mud?’
They fell into each other’s arms, laughing and crying. ‘I can’t believe it,’ Sarah gasped. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’
‘And you almost killed me,’ Nettie said, wiping tears from her cheeks and leaving smudges of dirt in their place. ‘What was you running from? It couldn’t have been Trigg this time.’
‘Oh, Nettie. I’ve got such a lot to tell you and I’m getting soaked to the skin.’
‘So am I, but who cares? I’ve found me little sister and she’s even prettier than she was all those years ago. I’d be jealous if I wasn’t such a beauty meself.’ She slipped her arm round Sarah’s waist. ‘Come with me. We’ll get you cleaned up and we’ll have a nice hot cup of tea with a slug of gin in it, and you can tell me how you come to be in London. I thought you was living the life of a country lady, but you look a bit of a mess if I’m to be honest.’
‘We could go to Grey’s lodgings,’ Sarah said shyly. ‘It’s not very grand but at least it’ll be out of the rain.’
‘You’re not . . .’ Nettie stared at her, eyebrows raised.
‘Oh, no. Nothing like that.’
‘We’ll go to my dressing room and you can tell me everything.’ Nettie pointed to the impressive façade of the Olympic Theatre. ‘I’m an actress now, Sarah. I told you I would be famous one day, and I’m well on me way. Come inside and we’ll get you out of those terrible duds and into something that don’t look as though it came from a dollyshop.’
She led Sarah through the stage door, past a grumpy-looking doorkeeper who glared at them and told them to be quiet, which made them giggle even louder. They were helpless with laughter by the time they reached the stuffy dressing room shared by the younger and least important members of the cast. The stale air was filled with the smell of greasepaint, cheap perfume and the rancid odour of tallow candles, but Nettie seemed not to notice. She dragged Sarah in and closed the door. ‘This is where we get made up to go on stage,’ she said with an expansive gesture. ‘We have all sorts of lovely costumes and satin shoes dyed to match. That’s when we’re doing musical burlesques. Sometimes we do serious plays and I’ve only had small parts so far, but I’m going to be a star like Nellie Farren or die in the attempt.’
Sarah was left breathless by Nettie’s enthusiasm as much as the suffocating atmosphere in the windowless room. She gazed round at the racks of brightly coloured costumes and shelves piled high with hats, shoes and plumes made of ostrich feathers. ‘Well, I never.’
Nettle chortled with delight. ‘I can tell that you’re impressed, nipper.’ She gave Sarah an affectionate hug. ‘Not so much a kid now though, are you? But if you don’t mind me saying so, you look a fright, although I daresay you’d clean up nicely.’
‘This is all I’ve got,’ Sarah said, taking off her soggy straw bonnet. ‘There was a fire and we lost everything. I was looking for a dollyshop when it started to rain.’
‘That dress is awful anyway.’ Nettie turned her back to Sarah. ‘Undo me buttons, there’s a love. I’ll have to bribe the wardrobe mistress with some bonbons so that she’ll wash my gown for me. She’s a miserable old cow, but she’s got a sweet tooth.’ She pulled a face. ‘Actually she’s got hardly any teeth at all but she can suck a piece of barley sugar and smack her gums together on a slice of cake, but no one dares laugh at her because she’s got a temper and she’s not above taking the scissors to a costume if someone gets on the wrong side of her.’
Sarah frowned as she concentrated on undoing the row of tiny satin-covered buttons. ‘She sounds terrifying.’
‘Hurry up, do. I’m shivering and it doesn’t do my voice any good.’ Nettie cleared her throat. ‘Do re mi fa so la te do,’ she sang as if to prove a point. ‘See what I mean?’
‘I’m doing my best, and you’ve got a lovely voice so I wouldn’t worry if I were you.’ Sarah did not add that she was also soaked to the skin and equally cold, but then Nettie always had to be the best. She did not mind. It was wonderful to see her again and she could still hardly believe the piece of good fortune that had caused their paths to cross.
Nettie turned her head to stare at her. ‘Who taught you to talk like a toff?’
‘I didn’t know that I did.’
‘Well, you do and it sounds funny. I’m trying to lose me cockney accent so I can act proper but it ain’t easy.’
‘How long have you been an actress? Do you still live in Wellclose Square?’
Nettie tossed her head. ‘I should think not. I share digs with Nellie and three of the other girls.’ She glanced at Sarah’s reflection in the dressing table mirror and smiled. ‘But I do visit them on my days off. It was Cook who introduced me to the manager of this theatre and he gave me an audition. I’m understudy to Nellie in Faust and Marguerite this coming week.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ Sarah said enthusiastically. ‘Cook must be so proud of you.’
‘She is, and I have to tell her everything that goes on in the theatre. If it weren’t for her taking us to Wilton’s music hall I’d probably still be a housemaid.’
‘So Mrs Burgess is still working for the Arbuthnots?’
‘Yes, and Dorcas too.’ Nettie twisted round in an attempt to see what Sarah was doing. ‘Aren’t you finished yet?’
‘Nearly.’ Sarah’s cold fingers fumbled with the buttons but she managed to undo the last one. ‘There you are.’
Nettie shrugged the gown off her shoulders and allowed it to slide to the floor. She plucked a cotton wrap from one of the rails and slipped it on. ‘Now you, Sarah. Your teeth are chattering and you’re turning blue. Get that awful print frock off and I’ll find you something else to wear.’
Minutes later Sarah was dressed in a pale blue cambric gown with a lace collar and cuffs. Nettie looked her up and down with a satisfied smile. ‘There, you look half decent and it suits you better than it did me.’
‘It’s your dress?’
‘Miss Gant made it for me and I always felt like a Sunday school teacher in it, so now it’s yours.’
‘Thank you, but are you sure?’
‘Stop fussing and take a seat while I sort out your hair. Gawd knows what you do in the country but it looks like a bird’s nest.’
Sarah stared into the mirror, watching in amazement as Nettie brushed her fair hair until it shone like silk and wound it into a coil at the nape of her neck. She put the last pin in place with a cry of triumph. ‘There! That’s a miracle in itself. Just look at yourself, Sarah Scrase. What d’you think?’
‘It’s amazing,’ Sarah said, turning her head from side to side to get the full effect. ‘You’re so clever, Nettie.’
‘I know I am. I’ve many talents, duck. If I don’t succeed in the theatre I could always get a job as a lady’s maid. But I’ll make it, I know I
will. My name will be top of the bill one day.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Sarah stood up, marvelling at her altered appearance. ‘I’ve only ever seen bits of me in a looking glass,’ she confessed shyly. ‘Miss Elsie’s house was very small and we were quite poor.’
Nettie pulled up a chair. ‘Tell me everything that’s happened to you since you was taken from us. Mrs Arbuthnot told Cook that you was safe in Essex and that it was best that you stayed there until such time as the sugar mill was rebuilt.’
‘That’s what Grey told me.’
‘We all suspected Trigg, but no one could prove the bastard did it.’
‘He blamed me for everything. I think he would have killed me if he thought he could get away with it, but he left it to Grey to get rid of me.’
‘You was lucky; that’s all I can say. But we didn’t know what had happened to you for ages. The master had the police looking for you and the mistress cried for days. We was all upset, even Betty, although the poor soul didn’t really understand what was going on.’
‘It was bad enough for me and I was scared stiff, but Grey was kind in his own way. I’ll never forget that he gave me an apple as a Christmas present because that was all he had to give, but then he left me with Miss Elsie in a tumbledown cottage in the middle of the marshes. I was really scared in the beginning but he came back every now and again and I got used to Miss Elsie and her strange ways. Now I’m really fond of her and I can’t bear to think of her suffering.’
Nettie cocked her head on one side, looking thoughtful. ‘Sounds to me like you’ve got a soft spot for Grey as well as the old lady.’
‘No, of course I haven’t,’ Sarah said hastily. ‘And he only came back because he was doing business for Miss Elsie. I found out later that they were related, although you wouldn’t think so if you saw them together.’
‘It all sounds like a rum do to me, but here you are now and seemingly none the worse for it.’
‘That’s enough about me, Nettie. Tell me more about Wellclose Square. Did the master rebuild the sugar mill?’