by Renee Duke
The driver scowled. “Money in advance then.”
“Money when we gets there,” corrected Hetty. “Or you can push off and we’ll get ourselves another cab.”
Scowling even more, the man told them to get in. At the Stepney Home, he made another attempt to extort more money, but Hetty’s high pitched protests brought a Barnardo worker outside. Snatching the agreed upon five shillings, the driver made a hasty departure.
The worker was the same young man who had taken Granddad to the governor on their first visit. He led them into the receiving room. As before, it was full of ragged children seeking admission.
“Wait here,” he said.
A few moments later, an anxious looking governor came out to them.
“So, Cedric was right. It is you! How could Mr. Hollingsworth let you come here by yourselves after what I told him? I was not expecting to hear from him until he returned to London.”
“Returned from where?” Paige demanded.
“York. Someone called on him yesterday and was told he was on his way to York. The housekeeper said he would be gone at least a fortnight.”
“Really?” said Jack. “We’ve been in Windsor visiting people. We came back in by train this morning. Uncle Clive didn’t say anything about being away. Still, that’s not unusual. He does things like that. Perhaps that’s why he gave us the letter.”
“Letter?”
Paige patted the lace-trimmed tapestry reticule that was part of her Victorian ensemble. “I have it. It sort of explains things.”
“A letter would have been of little use if you’d been accosted along the way. Did you have any trouble getting here?”
“None whatsoever. We got a cab at the station.”
“I’m relieved to hear it. I take it these are the children Mr. Hollingsworth wishes to help. Dr. Milne was telling me about them. Are you feeling better now, laddie?”
“Yes,” Pip whispered, stepping behind Hetty.
“He’s a bit funny with strangers,” Hetty said, pulling her brother back in front of the governor. “Don’t take on like that, Pip. This gent’s gonna help us get to Canada.”
“Canada? I thought the plan was for a foster home here in England.” The governor looked inquiringly at Paige.
Pleased that she, the oldest, was being regarded as the group’s spokesman, she tried to answer in a dignified manner.
“Things have changed. Uncle Clive now thinks it would be better for Hetty and Pip to start afresh in a new country. But Canada’s a long way off. He wants us to go with them and see them settled.” To her surprise, she did not falter while saying this. Exposure to Jack was, she supposed, having some effect on her.
“You?” said the governor. “That’s preposterous! Letting you come here alone was bad enough. To go all the way to Canada…well, I’d heard the man was a wee bit odd, but…” He trailed off, and instead asked, “What do your parents think of all this?”
“Mine are away a lot,” Jack replied. “Uncle Clive’s my guardian. Paige and Dane live in Canada. They’re due to go home soon anyway, so Uncle Clive thought it might as well be at the same time as Hetty and Pip. He says I can stay there for a while too, and then travel home with someone. He’s going to sort it out.”
“But he’d like you to sort things out for Hetty and Pip,” Paige told him. “And for us, as regards travelling with them. Here, look.”
She dug into her reticule and handed him the letter.
“I see,” the governor said when he had finished reading it. “Mr. Hollingsworth is apparently leaving it to you to make his wishes known regarding the Styles children.” His face showed what he thought about that arrangement. “It’s highly irregular, and not the way we do things. But the donation he speaks of is most generous, so we’ll try to accommodate his request.”
“Do you want to take it now?” asked Paige. “I have it with me.”
The governor blanched. “With you? You have three hundred pounds with you?”
Paige nodded. She dug out a bulging, period-appropriate envelope and handed it to him. The governor’s eyes widened as he opened it.
So did Hetty’s. “Crikey,” she said, staring. “You lot don’t got no sense at all, do yer? You don’t carry a wad like that through this neighbourhood. If I’d of knowed we had that on us, I don’t think me nerves could have took it.”
The governor did not immediately say anything. It was as though he could not trust himself to speak. Instead, he bowed his head and appeared to be giving silent thanks that they had miraculously come to no harm. When he had finished, he told them he would take charge of the money and set things in motion in regards to their journey.
“As it happens, we’ve a small party going out sometime next week. It’s not one of our regular groups, just a few little girls. They’ll be travelling with two ladies who’ve agreed to deliver them to the Hazelbrae Home. The ship’s not likely to be full this late in the year. We should still be able to book additional passages.”
He turned to Hetty. “I believe I was told you are currently staying with your great-aunt. Since the workers attending to your case seem to consider her a reliable woman, it would probably be best if you were to remain with her until you sail. As soon as wee Pip has had another check-up, I’ll have someone take you home and apprise her of the new developments.”
He led Pip off to see Dr. Milne. Hetty went too, leaving Paige to wonder where they were going to stay until the ship sailed. “There probably isn’t room for us at Old Rosie’s. And I don’t fancy Hetty and Pip’s shed. Not with the Ripper nosing around looking for them.” She paused. “I suppose we could just go home. Once we know when we’re sailing, we could fix the date in our minds and come back to join Hetty and Pip on the big day.”
“No,” said Jack. “We have to stay with them. I know we do. Or, to be more precise, they have to stay with us. Preferably in a safer part of town.”
Dane agreed. “Jack’s right. I didn’t have a chance to tell you before, but when I went back to Granny and Granddad’s, I used their computer to look up ships sailing to Canada in eighteen-eighty-eight. I found a site with scanned images of passenger lists, and there was one with Hetty and Pip’s names on it. They’d been crossed out. I figured that meant they were supposed to go on that ship, but didn’t because something happened to them. Something bad. We have to keep them with us, and out of the East End.”
“Okay, but how? Where can we take them? Boarding houses in other areas might not let in unaccompanied minors. And upscale hotels certainly won’t. Even if they did, we couldn’t afford one. We only have our satchel money, our fête winnings, and those coins of Jack’s left now that we’ve handed over Uncle Clive’s donation.”
Jack snapped his fingers “Of course. That’s it—Uncle Clive. We can stay with him.”
“Are you crazy? We can’t just turn up on his doorstep and say, ‘Hi-ya, Clive, we’re relatives. Mind if we stay a while?’”
“Why not? He’s away right now. We can tell his housekeeper we’re his godchildren, or something. If he had Rosalina Wolverton for a godchild, he might well have had other Wolverton godchildren too. If we give her the letter Uncle Edmond did for us, she’ll think he just forgot to let her know we were coming.”
“What about when he gets back?”
“We should be at sea by then,” said Dane.
“She’ll still tell him about us being there. And about the letter he never wrote.”
“If we don’t say anything about Barnardo’s, he’ll have no way of tracing us,” Jack reasoned. “Or knowing who we are. It’ll be an unsolved mystery.”
“Barnardo people have already called on him once already. They’re sure to call again to thank him for his donation, or update him on his little protégés. When that happens, both he and Barnardo’s will know they’ve been duped.”
“So what?” Dane came back with. “We’ll be long gone, and they’re not likely to take Hetty and Pip away from a home once they’ve found them one. From what
we’ve been told of Uncle Clive, I think he’d still want them to help them, even if he was confused by it all.”
“You better be right.”
A few minutes later, the governor brought Hetty and Pip back to the receiving room and told Paige that someone would take the two to Old Rosie.
“The rest of you will be safely seen to Mr. Hollingsworth’s house in Mayfair. Even though he is out of town, I imagine he has arranged for you to stay there.”
“Yes, he has. But we’ve been talking, and we think it’d be better if Hetty and Pip were to stay there too.”
“You does?” said Hetty.
“Yes, we does,” said Paige. “You’ll be safer there.”
“Oh…yeah.” Hetty gulped, her fears about being stalked by the Ripper returning.
“As you wish,” said the governor, a trifle impatiently. “I’ll—”
“Hang on a minute,” said Hetty. “We still wants to see Old Rosie. We can’t just up and leave the country without saying a proper good-bye.”
She looked pleadingly at Paige, who sighed resignedly.
“Okay. We’ll go there first. You don’t have to take us to Uncle Clive’s,” she told the governor. “He doesn’t mind us going about alone.”
“But I do. You will be accompanied, first to the home of these children’s great aunt, and then to Mr. Hollingsworth’s residence.”
Unable to banish thoughts of crossing paths with Jack the Ripper, Paige did not really mind having an escort. The scrawny young man named Cedric might not have been much use in a fight, but just having him along was reassuring. Even if he did look less than pleased with the assignment.
The Ripper was obviously on other people’s minds, too. They passed a few children wheeling scarecrow-type figures in makeshift carts whilst calling out, “Penny for the guy.” The guys all had villainous countenances, and sported dark capes such as the Ripper was reputed to wear.
“Bonfire night tonight,” Hetty told them, identifying the date as the fifth of November, when people celebrated Guy Fawkes Day with bonfires and fireworks. “Not likely to be much of a turnout, though. Folk’s leery of being out after dark now. We shouldn’t’ve been neither, the night we saw him. Old Rosie near did her nut over it. Said we should have stopped with our mates ’til morning. S’pose we should’ve, but I didn’t want her wondering where we’d got to.”
Old Rosie’s tenement building was just outside the East End, in an area equally as poor. Several flights of rickety stairs led up to her small one-room flat. The interior of the flat was dingy, but not squalid. The floor was clean, and the few pieces of furniture looked as though someone made an attempt to keep them looking presentable.
Old Rosie was sitting at a small table. Though well past modern-day retirement age, she was hard at work putting artificial flowers on a hat. Her initial flush of pleasure upon seeing Hetty and Pip was replaced with a look of anxiety as the two rushed toward her.
“Oh, my lawd,” she said, struggling to rise. “What’re you doing back here, my ducks? T’nt safe. You knows that.”
“We knows,” said Hetty, hugging her. “We’s been invited to stop at the posh gent’s house for a bit. Him what’s getting them Barnardo folk to help us. They’re gonna take us to Canada, Rosie, just like they did Minnow and Nolly. This bloke’ll tell you about it.”
Cedric did so, and then withdrew to let the family say its good-byes. He said he would wait for them downstairs.
“Canada. As far away as that.” Old Rosie sank back onto her chair looking sad. “But, that’s good, innit?” she said, brightening. “Ripper won’t find you there.”
Hetty slid behind her and put her arms around her neck. “We’ll miss you, Rosie.”
“And me you. Won’t have no one to call me own once you’re gone. But it’s for the best.”
She reached up to caress Hetty’s cheek. When Pip crawled into her lap, she smiled and began to stroke his hair. The three of them stayed like that for a few minutes, tears trickling down their faces.
Paige felt like crying too. So did the boys. They had lots of people who cared about them. Hetty and Pip only had one, and now they were going off to a strange country, thousands of miles away, knowing they would probably never see her again.
“Ah, well,” said Old Rosie, gently disentangling herself. “How’s about I get us all a bite to eat, and your Canadian mates here can tell me all about your new home.”
Moving around with the aid of a stick, Old Rosie made some broth and handed out chunks of stale bread. Her food supply was obviously meagre, but refusing her hospitality would have been neither kind, nor courteous. As they ate, Paige and Dane told her what they could about life in nineteenth-century Canada.
“We don’t know if Hetty and Pip will be living in town or on a farm,” Dane told her, “but we’ll make sure they get a good place.”
“I knows you will, luv. I’ll still worry about ’em, though. Won’t be able to help m’self. Still, you can write now, Het, so I’ll expect regular letters telling me how you’re getting on. Ruby down the hall can read ’em to me, and help me write back so’s you won’t forget me.”
“As if we would! Didn’t forget you all the time we was ’larking, did we?”
“You never should’ve been ’larking. If I’d knowed what you was up to, I’d have had the pair of you back long afore Pip were took bad.”
“And worked your fingers to the bone to keep us when we was perfectly capable of keeping ourselves,” said Hetty.
“Children’s not s’posed to keep themselves. Children’s s’posed to have people looking after ’em. I know. I weren’t always as poor as now. Came from a respectable home, I did. I can even talk la-di-dah, if I wants to. Had to when I were a milliner.”
“That’s someone who makes hats, isn’t it?” Jack queried.
“Yeah. I were right good at it. And made good money. Then folk’s took to wanting all this mass-produced stuff. Shops closed right and left. Mine among ’em.”
The old woman got painfully to her feet and hobbled over to a trunk. Watching her, Paige could not imagine how she managed on the stairs they had climbed. Guess she’s got no choice, she thought.
Old Rosie opened the trunk and took out an extremely attractive maroon-coloured hat decorated with ribbons, feathers, and beads. Coming back she placed it on Hetty’s head. “Here, girl, you have this. Had to sell all me other ‘Rosie Originals’. This here were always the prettiest. I were keeping it for you. It’ll be a mite big on you yet, but you can pad it out.”
“Cor, ta, Rosie. It’s beautiful.”
“And this’s for you, young Pip. You always liked it, so now it’s yours.” She handed him a small brass rocking horse from a shelf above the trunk. “I’ll wrap it in a bit of cloth and Paige here can put it in her bag to keep it safe.”
Once this was accomplished, Old Rosie gave Hetty and Pip one more hug. “Well, now, that’s that. Time you was on your way. If that toff’s house is a long ways off, it’s best you gets there afore dark.”
The rain, which had slackened off, returned just as Cedric was summoning a cab.
“You really don’t have to come with us,” Paige told him. “I’m sure you must have better things to do. The Stepney Home looks like a busy place.”
“It is,” said Cedric. In the end he allowed himself to be persuaded. He paid the cab driver and supplied him with the address before hurrying off.
The cab ride was long, and ended at a large town house surrounded by iron railings. Though the rain was easing off again, the driver was eager to find another fare while inclement weather made his services desirable. He was already turning his horses around by the time the children reached the steps leading up to Clive Hollingsworth’s front door.
It had both a knocker and a bell. Paige pressed the latter, which was answered by a middle-aged woman she took to be the housekeeper. After giving her their names, she boldly asked her to inform their ‘godfather’ of their arrival.
“I’m af
raid I can’t. Mr. Hollingsworth’s not here. He’s gone to York.”
Jack tried to look both surprised and concerned. “York? Oh, but…but, we’re supposed to be staying with him until we set sail for Canada to join our parents. Didn’t he say?”
“No, he didn’t.” The housekeeper looked past them and saw the departing cab. “Have you come here on your own?” she inquired.
“Of course,” Jack replied. “We’re being progressively educated. That means acting independently whenever possible. Our godfather’s been taking a great interest in us of late. He says he believes in progressive education.”
“He would. Can’t say as I hold with such ideas myself. Especially if it means letting young children roam about London on their own.”
“We’re not all that young,” said Paige. “I’m thirteen.”
“And I’m almost twelve,” said Dane.
“Yeah,” said Hetty. “Pip’s the only real littl’un.”
The housekeeper’s eyebrows rose slightly upon hearing Hetty’s speech.
“Hetty and Pip are street children,” Dane informed her. “Uncle Clive’s been taking an interest in them, too. We’re helping him raise them from the gutter.”
“We’ve had ever so many discussions on the subject,” Jack added. “Uncle Clive even gave us a letter of authority. Show her, Paige.”
The housekeeper read it, and shook her head. “Mr. Hollingsworth has always been a rather unconventional gentleman, but putting this kind of responsibility onto children seems a bit extreme, even for him. Still, it’s not my place to argue. You’d best come in.” She looked around. “Have you no luggage?”
“Uh, no.” Uncertain as to how to explain this, Paige nodded to Jack.
As usual, he had an answer.
Without batting an eye he said, “A rough looking fellow stole it at the train station. He made off with everything but Dane’s carpet bag. I don’t think Paige wants to talk about it. It distresses her.”
