The Lost Sisters: A gritty saga about friendships, family and finding a place to call home

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Bending down, Orpha grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at Peg. A loud screech echoed across the market and all eyes turned in the direction of the shout. Smiles crossed the faces of the women in the market as the two girls were now firmly in the grip of a snowball fight.

  A crowd began to gather as they watched the fun the girls were having and they began to cheer and side with one or the other. Finally out of breath, the cold air stinging their lungs, the girls retreated to the cart where Orpha grabbed Peg’s hand and, holding it in the air, declared her the winner. Orpha shouted across the cheers that there was chocolate to be had at Peg’s cart and they were suddenly mobbed by women wanting some of the sweet confection for their children.

  Money was hard-earned everywhere so Orpha kept her prices low; mothers would always find an extra half penny for some ‘suck’ for their children. Orpha smiled as she thought about the Black Country term for sweets. Normally the mothers would buy half an ounce of boiled sweets and would tell their children to suck them to make them last longer. Hence the term ‘suck’ came into being.

  Orpha was delighted at the rate the chocolate and fudge sold, as well as the jams and pickles, and before the morning had ended, the girls were on their way back to the cottage. Day after day, the sweets sold quickly, always leaving a disappointed line of women wanting chocolate for their families. Night after night, the girls worked hard, making as much confectionery as their ingredient supplies would allow.

  That evening, sitting by the fire with hot tea in hand and outdoor clothes steaming on the backs of chairs, they toasted their toes in the hearth. Orpha began to think over the time she had lived with Peg and how she’d settled into a new chapter in her life. She smiled inwardly at how close they had become in such a short time. The subject of their parents was still mentioned every now and then, but Peg would bring it to a swift close when Orpha’s tears welled.

  Peg, sitting next to her, was thinking much the same thing. She was glad of the company and she liked Orpha immensely. They never had a cross word and they laughed a lot together. However, Orpha had a sadness about her sometimes and Peg put it down to her lousy mother. She also knew, one day, Orpha would return home to confront the woman, but for now the girls were happy.

  Glancing over, Peg asked, ‘What’s on your mind?’

  Orpha glanced over at her friend, saying, ‘How much money do we have?’

  ‘I dunno,’ Peg answered. ‘Why?’

  ‘Well I was just thinking about the chocolate and how well it is selling. I was wondering how we could make more.’

  Peg shook her head as she stared into the dancing flames in the fireplace.

  ‘I have some ideas about the confection itself, Peg, but it would mean putting the prices up and then the women at the market probably couldn’t afford to buy it.’

  ‘What ideas have you got? Tell me about them,’ Peg asked, all ears now.

  ‘In the summer…’ Orpha began excitedly, ‘…when you grow your soft fruits, we could cover them in chocolate; strawberries, raspberries, cherries… then we could experiment with flavours like orange, lemon… anything we can get our hands on!’

  ‘Orpha, I don’t want to rain on your parade, but that’s gonna be mighty expensive!’

  Orpha laughed loudly at Peg’s expression before saying, ‘I know some fruit is hard to come by and expensive to buy, but we’ll never know if we don’t try!’

  ‘Ar, you’re right there, but it ain’t summer for a long time yet.’ Peg watched the light in Orpha’s eyes dim but it didn’t go out.

  ‘True enough,’ Orpha agreed, ‘but in the meantime how about we see about getting hold of some almonds and coat them in chocolate? I know it would cost, but if we up the price, we should be able to see a small profit.’

  ‘Who would buy them?’ Peg asked, watching Orpha as she grew more and more excited by the prospect.

  ‘Everyone!’ Orpha exclaimed, ‘We could wrap them individually in paper and set them in a cardboard box…!’

  ‘Whoa! Hang on a minute, yes we could do all that, but… what about the money?’ Peg hated that she was knocking the wind out of Orpha’s sails but she needed the girl to take one step at a time with her exciting new venture.

  ‘I need a pencil and some paper,’ Orpha said as Peg got out of her seat to set the kettle to boil. Going to a drawer, Peg provided the requested articles. ‘Right,’ Orpha went on, ‘we need to list what we need, where to get it from, how much we would need and how much we could pay. Then we need to check our capital. We would need to work out how much it would take to make a particular sweet as well as a profit margin; that would give us the price to sell it at!’

  Peg grinned, saying, ‘Easy as that, eh?’

  The two girls burst out laughing as they collected their hard-earned savings and spread the money out on the table.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Peg said. ‘Fifty pounds! I had no idea we had that much! Hell’s teeth!’

  Orpha grinned at Peg’s colourful expression, saying she’d put every spare penny away and between them the fifty pounds was the result.

  Settling once more with hot tea, the girls began compiling a list of ingredients and packaging they would need. By the side of each, Orpha wrote the name of where they could purchase the items and how much of each they would need.

  Agreeing to go into the town soon in an endeavour to strike bargains with the ingredient sellers, they continued to talk excitedly about their new ‘business’, as they began once more to make the chocolate for the market the following day.

  As Peg lifted down the bottles and jars full of chutneys and jams, Orpha asked, ‘Peg, do you have any spare jars?’

  ‘Ar, good and clean an’ all, why?’

  ‘I thought we might put the chocolates in them and sell them from the jars. We could use the cones as wrappers, and the customer could see what they’re getting.’

  ‘Good idea! I’ll give them another scalding before we do though, just to be sure they’re properly clean.’

  The jars were thoroughly washed in hot water and left to cool and dry.

  Once cold, the next morning, the jars were filled with chocolate squares and fudge chunks and with the cork stopper in the top, they were ready for loading onto the cart. The paper cones were flattened and slipped between two jars for safekeeping. After loading the cart, Peg threw a blanket over the top in case of more snow or rain, and they set off in the direction of the market.

  Placing the sweets in the jars for all to see was a resounding success and Orpha and Peg dragged the cart with its empty jars homeward.

  One day more at the market would see their stocks depleted and Orpha knew she would have a job on persuading merchants to deal with them for large orders. She also knew from experience that men dealt with men; women having no place in their business world.

  Well, she decided, she was about to right that wrong. Businessmen would deal with her. She would be relentless and eventually they would see the error of their ways if they dared to refuse her! Orpha Buchanan was on a mission!

  Chapter 15

  Abel was glad he’d stayed over once more at the Gentlemen’s Club in Squires Walk, watching through the window as the snow fell. Sitting by the roaring fire in the Club Room, Abel knew he had to return to Buchanan House before the snow became too deep to traverse. In his own little world now, Abel was deep in thought about the last couple of months and his life with Hortense. He had been staying over more at the club rather than at home with his wife. Life with Hortense was becoming unbearable; they barely spoke to each other and when they did, it was with spite and hate. He had not yet reconciled with Mahula and Zachariah either and this played on his mind. He missed them but couldn’t return until he’d left his wife. Then he could explain the whole thing and pray they would forgive him. He knew he had to decide once and for all to leave Hortense and move in with his mistress and son. Still spending time searching for his daughters, Abel realised he was putting the whole thing off. He had opted for the quiet lif
e and chosen to distance himself from the woman he had married. He had to be a man and face Hortense; he must tell her he was leaving her.

  Walking to the stables housed behind the Club, Abel tipped the lad who tacked up his horse. Climbing into the saddle, he walked the horse into Brunswick Terrace, cursing the weather as he made his way home along the slippery cobbled streets.

  Arriving at the house, Abel went straight into his study. It was time to sell the emeralds he had taken from the bank. His intention was to sell them on and then with some of the money make sure Hortense was taken care of financially. The time had come for him to move on. Looking around he cursed again, ‘Bloody new furniture!’ Flipping the rug aside, he retrieved the box holding the emeralds. Tipping them onto the new desk, he scanned them quickly then gasped. Nudging them one at a time, Abel counted, eleven… but there had been twelve! Counting again confirmed there were indeed only eleven. Replacing them in their hiding place, he marched out of the study and into the parlour.

  ‘Assemble your staff!’ Abel bellowed at Hortense who sat by the fire with her knitting.

  ‘Why, dear? Is there something wrong?’ Hortense replied.

  ‘Hortense! Do as I say, woman, and do it now!’

  Hortense stood and tugged on the bell pull beside the fireplace. Within minutes Simmons appeared in the parlour.

  ‘Ask Beulah, Jago and Alice to join us please, Simmons,’ Hortense said.

  Giving a slight bow, Simmons left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Hortense waited in silence as she watched Abel pace back and forth not saying a word until a knock came to the parlour door which then opened and the household staff trooped in.

  ‘The master would like a word with you all,’ Hortense said, looking as mystified as her servants.

  Clearing his throat, Abel kept his temper even as he spoke. ‘There is something missing from my study and I want to know where it is!’

  The butler looked at Hortense, who looked at the maid, who turned her eyes to the stable boy, who glanced at the cook, who stared open-mouthed at Abel.

  Gathering herself together, it was Beulah who spoke. ‘Begging your pardon, Mr Buchanan, but none of us have ever been in your study. It ain’t our place for starters, and besides, the mistress informed us when we came that your study was even out of bounds for the maid! The mistress cleans that room herself.’

  Alice, the maid, nodded emphatically and was joined by Simmons who added, ‘Mrs Jukes is correct in what she says, sir. If you’ve a mind to elaborate on the missing article, we would all be very happy to help search in order to discover its whereabouts… sir.’

  Abel faced his wife and asked, ‘Is what they say the truth? Are you the only one to go into my study?’

  Hortense nodded, a feeling of cold dread consuming her, but she pushed it away. Had Abel discovered one of his jewels was missing? If so, and he accused her, she would deny it vehemently.

  Turning to the staff, he said, ‘Please understand I am not accusing any one of you of theft. I thank you for your honesty and offer of assistance. Mrs Jukes, a cup of tea would be nice right now and a slice of your excellent Madeira cake, if you wouldn’t mind.’ Abel gave the cook a beaming smile, which she returned before the staff all filed out of the room.

  Turning back to face his wife, Abel said menacingly, ‘So, Hortense, you are the only one to go into my study, eh? In that case, I suggest you return the item you stole from there.’

  Feigning shock, Hortense asked timorously, ‘Abel, what is it you think I have taken from your study?’

  ‘Don’t!’ Abel snapped as he walked to stand by the fire. ‘Don’t you dare play games with me, madam!’

  Hortense rounded on her husband. Attack was the best form of defence, and Hortense attacked with venom. ‘Games! I play no games with you! Firstly you humiliate me in front of the servants, then you accuse me of theft! How dare you, Abel? How bloody dare you!’

  ‘A certain item was stolen from my study, Hortense, and since you are the only one, other than myself, to go in there, well… you see how it looks. So, let’s get this over with. What have you done with it?’

  ‘With what?’ Hortense asked, stalling for time.

  Abel let out an exasperated sigh before saying, ‘If that’s how you want to play it… I have no option but to send for the police.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Abel, what’s so important that you would call out the constable in this awful weather?’ Hortense began to lose her composure. ‘Talk to me, Abel, tell me what all this is about!’

  Dropping into a chair, Abel ran his hands through his hair. ‘I had some emeralds in there. I took them out of the bank with the intention of selling them, but there is one missing.’

  Hortense thought quickly and then said, ‘How many do you have?’

  ‘Eleven, but there should be twelve,’ Abel said as he looked up, ‘and before you ask, I counted them twice.’

  Taking a deep breath, Hortense asked, ‘Have you considered you may only have taken eleven out of the bank… in error?’

  Abel stared at her and Hortense knew her planted seed of doubt had already begun to grow. Quickly she went on, ‘It may be that in your haste, you miscounted at the bank.’ The doubt in Abel’s eyes showed clear and Hortense knew she had beaten him.

  ‘I suppose it’s possible…’ Abel started just as a knock came to the door and Alice brought in their tea. Laying the tray on the table, she dropped a quick curtsy and beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen.

  *

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Beulah said as Alice finished telling them what she’d ‘overheard’ as she’d stood with her ear pinned to the parlour door. ‘No wonder the master was riled!’

  ‘The question is…’ Simmons said with a straight face, ‘…did the master “miscount at the bank”, or… did the mistress take the emerald?’

  Alice and Beulah looked at the butler as he sipped his tea, his eyebrows raised; his eyes on them.

  ‘Why would her do that?’ Alice asked.

  ‘She,’ corrected Simmons, ‘Why would she do that?’

  Alice rolled her eyes as she went on, ‘Well it ain’t as if her… she… needs it. She has enough money of her own.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Simmons answered, ‘but she may not have sold it, she may have it hidden away for a rainy day perhaps.’

  ‘Well I don’t care either way,’ the cook said, ‘I’m just glad the master knows it ain’t down to us. And…’ she went on, ‘I’m also glad we’re looking out for each other down here!’

  Alice added, ‘I know the master didn’t rightly accuse any of us, but that ain’t to say he wouldn’t have though.’

  Simmons nodded saying, ‘We should be extra vigilant, ladies. I hate to say this, but I don’t entirely trust our mistress.’ The women nodded their silent agreement. ‘Another thing I find very odd…’ Simmons paused to ensure he had the women’s attention once more, ‘…is the tale of the missing children of this household.’

  ‘What you mean?’ Alice asked.

  Simmons sighed at the maid’s lack of good grammar and corrected her again, ‘What do you mean?’ He watched Alice sigh before he said, ‘The baby, many years ago, was purported to have been stolen by gypsies, correct?’ He looked at the cook who nodded. ‘Although no gypsies had been sighted in the area for a long time.’ Another nod from Mrs Jukes encouraged him to go on. ‘So where did the child go? At a few months old, it wasn’t as if she ran away by herself!’ The women exchanged a glance as Simmons resumed, ‘Which brings us to the second daughter who apparently did just that. I ask myself why? Why did the teenage Miss Buchanan run away from all this?’ Rolling his eyes around the room, he swept a hand to emphasise his point.

  ‘Could be lots of reasons,’ Alice put in, ‘but if I had a mother like the mistress I’d run off an’ all!’

  Simmons nodded slowly as he looked at each woman in turn and then Jago, the stable boy.

  ‘Do you think…?’ Beulah began.

 
‘I do indeed, Mrs Jukes. I think the mistress ran the second daughter off. The daughter who would inherit from her father. As to the first child… who knows?’

  Mrs Jukes’ hand flew to her chest and Alice, who had sat enthralled, almost jumped out of her skin as the parlour bell tinkled in the now quiet kitchen.

  Chapter 16

  The winter months finally began to move aside, allowing the weak sunshine of spring to encourage new growth everywhere.

  Peg’s bottled chutneys and jams, along with Orpha’s chocolate and fudge, had sold well and kept the girls going throughout the long winter months. They had lived together for some months without them having a disagreement. They had worked side by side throughout that time and when Orpha’s ideas soared, Peg gently brought her back down to earth. Often they discussed the likeness they shared but still they had no proof of their being related. Orpha felt her father would be able to answer the many questions that plagued her. But, over time, their work became more important than finding answers, and so they continued to further their little business.

  Dressed in their Sunday best, the girls set out to attempt to accomplish what they knew could be the turning point in their lives. They intended to visit all the grocers in the area in an effort to strike a deal for a regular bulk order of sugar and cocoa powder. They would then move on to the dairy regarding a supply of fresh milk and the mill for an order of flour.

  Arriving at Cooper’s Grocers shop in Melbourne Street, they marched boldly through the door. Asking to see Mr Cooper himself, they waited amid the stares of the few customers waiting to be served.

  Mr Cooper, a tall thin man, came from the room at the back of the shop. Squinting over the top of his glasses perched on the end of his nose, he asked, ‘You ladies asked to see me?’

  ‘Yes,’ the girls said in unison. Peg flushed and stepped back, allowing Orpha to take the lead.

  ‘Yes, Mr Cooper, we have come to ask about placing a regular bulk order for cocoa powder and sugar.’