The Workhouse Children

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Sitting in the black carriage as it rumbled over the cobblestone street, Cara sat silently wishing it was all a dream. Now it was over, her grandmother was finally gone from her and she realized it was no dream. It was real and her heart ached from the void left there that she knew would never be filled.

  Sitting at home in the parlour once more Cara watched the snow fall. Questions crowded into her mind as the crackle of the fire drew her to its warmth. Would this house be hers now? Or would she have to leave? Martin Lander, the solicitor, would know. He would tell her at the reading of Henrietta’s will. How would she pay the bills? Cara had no money of her own. She was eighteen years old. She had been well-schooled but had never considered the prospect she might have to find work. What could she do? Again tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

  Molly brought in the tea tray and asked if Cara was all right. Cara nodded and Molly left the room quietly. The tick of the clock and the rustle of Molly’s long black skirt on her boots the only sounds.

  *

  Molly Barton had been the maid at ‘The Laburnums’ for five years and as she sat in the kitchen she spoke to the cook, ‘Mrs Cox, I feel so sorry for Miss Cara, she can’t stop crying.’

  Gracie Cox nodded as she settled her ample weight onto a kitchen chair. ‘Ar wench, I know. What I’m wondering now is… what will happen to us two?’

  Molly looked at the older woman, ‘Crikey! I never thought of that!’

  Gracie drew her lips into a tight line and nodded her head as Molly went on, ‘We could be out on the streets! Oh Lordy Lord!

  ‘Now, now, don’t let’s go worrying too much, we have to wait and see what happens,’ Gracie said in an effort to console Molly.

  Silence descended on the kitchen as cook and maid drank their tea each lost in their own private thoughts.

  *

  Two weeks after Henrietta Selby had been laid to rest, her granddaughter received the solicitor’s letter asking that she attend his office.

  Cara wrapped up warmly against the cold wind and as she walked down Proud’s Lane she was glad the snow had begun to melt, albeit leaving behind a filthy slush. Her side-buttoned boots tapped out a steady rhythm on the cobbled street and she deftly stepped over puddles as she hitched up her long dress and coat. Her breath left a stream of mist in the cold air as she hurried on, eager to be out of the freezing winds.

  Branching off, Cara made her way down Dover Street before crossing over the Wolverhampton & Dudley Branch of the Great Western Railway via Arthur Street. Looking along the tracks, she knew the steam train was not due for another hour. On into Cambridge Street she searched for the nameplate of the offices of Lander, Holmes & Durwood, Solicitors at Law. Cambridge Street was where the landscape changed. All around her were offices, shops and houses. Buildings shoved one against the next; all covered with a layer of grime. The trains puffed out clouds of steam as they traversed the railway tracks that connected the small town with larger ones such as Wolverhampton and Birmingham. The steam mixed with fine particles of coal dust which the wind laid on the buildings before drying to a thin dirty paste.

  Greeted by a secretary as she walked into the office, Cara was asked to take a seat while she waited for Mr Lander who would be with her shortly. A trilling sound made Cara jump and the secretary smiled at her. The office had one of those new-fangled telephones! Cara watched as the secretary finished speaking and hung the earpiece on the side of the telephone stand. Cara marveled at the brilliant invention and determined to have one installed at home, it would make life so much easier.

  A door opened and a young man spoke as he extended his hand. ‘Miss Flowers, please do come in, my name is Martin Lander.’

  Looking at the man opposite her, she was surprised to see he was not what she had expected. She had envisaged a much older man, not one in his early thirties. Very young to be a qualified solicitor, she thought. Martin Lander had dark hair and deep brown eyes which held a constant twinkle.

  Cara entered his office and sat by his desk.

  ‘Firstly, Miss Flowers, I am very sorry for your loss. How are you getting on?’ Lander asked.

  ‘Fine, thank you.’ Cara answered meekly, her eyes dropping to her gloves lying in her lap.

  ‘Right then, perhaps we should read your grandmother’s will if you are prepared?’ Cara nodded and Martin unrolled a parchment. Seeing her puzzled look, he said, ‘Henrietta was an old-fashioned sort, as you know. This is how she wanted it done.’ Martin held up the scroll and waved it in the air.

  Cara gave a thin smile and watched him closely as he read out the words on the document.

  When he reached the end, Martin rolled it up again and passed it over to her.

  ‘If there is anything more I can do for you, Miss Flowers, please feel free to call on me.’

  Thanking him, Cara walked out of the office in a daze, the parchment safely in her draw string bag. Head down against the wind, Cara stepped smartly down the street and once again came to the railway. She heard the clickety-clack of the train’s wheels on the track and smelled the steam as it chugged its way to its destination. She had been in the solicitor’s office for an hour and as she hurried on, she heard his voice again in her mind as he read out Henrietta’s last will and testament.

  Three

  Sitting in the parlour once more, Cara read over the will left by her grandmother to herself. Molly popped her head round the door and a tearful Cara asked, ‘Molly, would you and Gracie be kind enough to join me? I have things to discuss with you. The maid bobbed a quick curtsy and shot down to the kitchen all of a fluster.

  ‘Miss Cara wants to see us in the parlour,’ she announced as the cook’s eyes met hers.

  A moment later Molly returned with Gracie in tow, both looking a little worried. Was this it? Was this the day they would find themselves out of work and home?

  ‘Please sit down,’ drying her eyes on her handkerchief, Cara motioned to the settee drawn up to the fire. ‘Now,’ she sniffed, ‘it seems Grandma left everything to me. I would be very pleased if you would both stay on here and… I wish we could be less formal in our relationships. What I mean is, can we be friends rather than employer and staff? I certainly would be glad of it.’

  The cook and maid smiled in unison, allowing held breath to be released. They had felt sure they would find themselves out of a job now the old lady had passed, and relief flooded them both.

  ‘Also,’ Cara went on, ‘I propose to give you both a raise in earnings.’ Another beam crossed the women’s faces. ‘I only ask one thing in return.’ The women shared a glance as Cara resumed. ‘I ask that you would both help me with a task set down by Grandma… a challenge you might say. I have been tasked to find and take care of any living blood relatives.’

  Molly and Gracie exchanged another look before returning their eyes to their new mistress.

  Molly piped up, ‘I thought you was an only child!’

  Gracie dug the maid in the ribs with her elbow at the girl’s outburst, but Cara gave a wan smile as she said, ‘So did I, Molly!’

  ‘Beggin’ your pardon Miss Cara, but what makes you think you might have other family? We’ve certainly never heard Mrs Selby talk about it.’ Gracie Cox looked at the maid sat alongside her, who nodded her agreement, before returning her eyes to the young woman sat opposite

  Cara held up the scroll and said simply, ‘Grandma must have thought so!’

  ‘Why did Mrs Selby think there might be others in the family?’ Gracie asked.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Cara answered.

  ‘Surely she would have said something as you were growing up, wouldn’t she?’ Molly asked.

  ‘She never said a thing,’ Cara answered again. ‘I used to ask her about my parents, who they were and where they were. Grandma would get upset with me and tell me not to ask such questions. It was the only thing she ever got cross with me about.’ Her glance moved from one face to the other as she spoke.

  ‘That’s very strange,’ Gracie mused, �
��something terrible must have happened to cause such a rift.’

  ‘As I got older I thought the same, Gracie. I couldn’t fathom it out at all.’ Cara’s eyes became dreamy as she pondered the past.

  ‘Well, obviously your parents and your grandma fell out over something!’ Molly chimed in. She gave a scowl as Gracie dug her in the ribs again. ‘What? I was only saying!’

  Cara gave a little grin, saying, ‘You’re right, Molly, but what was it they disagreed about? It must have been something important.’

  ‘Important enough for you to grow up here with your grandma and not with your parents,’ Gracie added.

  ‘Indeed,’ Cara nodded, ‘I wonder if I will ever find out? It’s awful not knowing anything about one’s parents.’

  ‘There was times I wished I didn’t know about mine!’ Molly said, which caused smiles to break out. ‘Lord, could them two fight! Then they was all lovey-dovey. I didn’t know if I was coming or going!’

  Cara tittered behind her hand as the tension was broken. Gracie gave out a belly laugh. Molly spoke again, ‘So, how you going to go about finding any lost relatives?’

  Cara sighed heavily. ‘I haven’t a clue,’ she said simply.

  As the discussions went on, Cara found herself fighting a losing battle with her tears. Her emotions constantly burst their banks and she fought desperately to keep control of herself. Regaining her composure, Cara responded to Gracie’s suggestion that any siblings be called Flowers.

  ‘I would have thought so,’ she said, ‘and probably younger than myself.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’ Molly asked.

  ‘Well, I would have thought any siblings older than me would have grown up here too.’ Cara held out her hands.

  ‘Oh yes! I never thought of that,’ Molly screwed up her mouth and pushed her chin forward. ‘Tch! Silly me, I should have known that!’

  Going to the bureau, Cara took out a pencil and paper and, retaking her seat, said, ‘If you’re willing to help me, perhaps we should start by making a note of things we know, and also any questions we have.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Gracie said as she settled herself more comfortably on the sofa.

  Cara began the list; they needed to find anyone with the surname of Flowers and investigate further. How would they go about this? Who could they ask?

  In the beginning the cook and maid were wary about getting involved in the family mystery, but eventually their excitement grew as did the list of things to do. The challenge was becoming infectious.

  Mrs Cox sent Molly to the kitchen for more tea, then said, ‘Miss Cara, what exactly did the will say?’

  Cara picked up the scroll once more and scanned the words. Locating the relevant passage, she read aloud as Molly trundled in with the tea tray. ‘Cara Flowers is hereby tasked with finding any living blood relative: her mother Elizabeth Flowers; her father John Flowers; and any other children they may have had. It is my wish that Cara takes care of any other children discovered, for the term of their or her natural life.’

  Gracie and Molly exchanged a look. Then opening a personal letter left by her grandmother, Cara read on. ‘Cara, Elizabeth Selby, my daughter, married John Flowers against my wishes. John was a drunken waster and Elizabeth became pregnant before the wedding. I heard later that John died, but I cannot be sure of this. If you should discover I have other grandchildren, please Cara, take care of them on my behalf. Also, if you find my daughter, please tell her I rue the day I ignored her plea. I’m sorry you have to find out this way, sweetheart, but it’s time you knew. I know I should have told you this long ago… please forgive me.’

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Gracie Cox gasped. ‘She’s set you a fine task there and no mistake!’

  Cara tried to hide the smile Gracie’s language induced and went on, ‘I know, Gracie, that’s why I’m asking you to help me. I feel so lonely and I really don’t want to do this alone.’ Cara looked from one to the other as her tears came once again. Steeling herself, she went on, ‘Martin Lander is aware of my grandmother’s last wish… but not this personal letter. Grandma left it for me on her bedside table, only to be opened after…’

  ‘Well,’ Gracie cut her off, afraid she would burst into tears again, ‘we could ask Mr Lander’s help an’ all.’

  ‘I was thinking I might ask him, Gracie, he could perhaps suggest things we haven’t thought of.’ A tiny spark shone in Cara’s blue eyes as she added his name to the list.

  ‘What’s he like, Miss Cara? Is he nice? Do you think he might help?’ Molly asked with a cheeky smile.

  Cara nodded, a blush flowing into her cheeks.

  ‘Oh-oh,’ Gracie said and all three burst out laughing. Tears had been avoided and they had managed to coax a laugh from the young girl they both had come to love to distraction in the time they had lived and worked at the house.

  *

  Cara lay in bed sniffing away her tears and listening to the icy wind blasting through the laburnum trees surrounding the house. Her house. ‘The Laburnums’ now belonged to her, along with an unbelievably large amount of money which Cara knew was passed down from the family buying and selling property. There were no other sounds, save the wind. The large house stood in its own grounds backing onto the Allotment Gardens. It was well away from the factories and shops of the town and so remained relatively quiet and grime-free. With eight bedrooms and servants’ quarters, it also had been fitted with an indoor lavatory; a luxury not many houses sported.

  Wondering if she did, in fact, have any brothers and sisters, a thought suddenly struck her. ‘You crafty madam!’ Cara muttered into the darkness. She suspected her grandmother had set her this task in an effort to beat off the girl’s grieving. More to the point, it was working. With a thin smile, Cara Flowers snuggled beneath the covers and finally slipped into a dreamless sleep.

  After breakfast the following morning, Cara said, ‘I had a thought last night, what say we visit the Registrar of Births, Deaths and Marriages? Maybe he could find something in his records.’

  ‘Right then, get your coats on, you two, let’s go and see old Colley!’ Gracie said as she bustled from the kitchen. Molly shook her head at Gracie’s bossiness. Cara smiled, it gave her a warm feeling; Gracie being bossy felt, to her, a bit like being mothered.

  Josiah Colley had his office in Wellington Road, an upmarket part of the town. As the three women walked along the street, Cara said, ‘It might be that you ladies are the closest thing to family I have after all is said and done.’

  ‘Well hopefully Mr Colley should be able to shed some light on that,’ Gracie said as she beamed her pleasure at being considered family.

  Wrapped up warmly, they chatted quietly as they walked briskly down Wellington Road.

  Once in the office Cara introduced herself and her two companions. Holding tight to her emotions, Cara explained: ‘Mr Colley, I was hoping you may be able to aid me in a quest set down by my grandmother.’

  ‘Ah, Mrs Selby, God rest her soul. My condolences, Miss Flowers.’ Josiah tipped his head in respect.

  ‘Thank you,’ Cara said. Feeling a crack in her emotions, she rushed on. ‘We are searching for any family with the surname of Flowers. Grandma tasked me to find and take care of them.’

  Colley’s eyebrows shot up and he scratched the back of his head. ‘Quite an undertaking, Miss Flowers. Do you have any dates that might help? Birthdays or the like?’

  Cara shook her head, ‘I don’t even know if I have any family.’

  ‘I’m afraid without dates to go on, it might prove immensely difficult and would take some considerable time to search the listings.’ Colley swung his arm around the room. ‘Do you have any idea of how many records are kept here?’ Seeing the young woman’s shoulders slump, he added quickly, ‘I will do my best, Miss Flowers, but don’t expect any news for quite a while.’

  Cara’s heart sank as she felt the weight of her loss and the huge burden she’d been given settle on her. Gracie urged her on, saying next to visit was th
e telephone company to have one of the new gadgets fitted in the house.

  ‘You said you wanted one, to make things easier than going out on errands, as well as telephone Mr Colley for any further news.’ Gracie said.

  Cara said she would see to it later; they really needed to speak with the solicitor first.

  The three women then walked on to Martin Lander’s office. Ushering them in, he pulled up chairs for each.

  Cara introduced Gracie and Molly before saying, ‘Mr Lander, I would ask you read this passage from a personal letter left to me by Grandma. Then I would ask for any advice you may be able to give.’ Handing him the letter, the women watched as Lander read the relevant words.

  Handing the letter back, Martin nodded.

  Cara went on, ‘Mr Colley, the Registrar, agreed to go through his records for anyone with the Flowers surname, but there may be too many to actually help us narrow down the search.’

  Martin Lander thought for a moment before saying, ‘Well, you do have a challenge on your hands! May I suggest… you might visit… the workhouse?’ He looked pained.

  ‘Oh yes!’ Cara said suddenly. ‘We didn’t think of that!’

  Despite Cara’s excitement, Gracie’s spirits dropped at the very thought of visiting the most dreaded building in the town. She’d heard the stories of the terrible life people had in there; of having little food, of working their fingers to the bone for no pay, and of the possibility of never having a life outside the place again.

  ‘Of course,’ Martin went on, ‘any relatives could well have moved away. Maybe they travelled looking for work, which would make things far more difficult for you.’

  ‘I’m really looking for any siblings, so they would probably be younger than me. However, if my parents did move away, then the children would have gone with them.’ Cara felt a twinge of disappointment as she thought out loud.

  ‘Forgive my asking, Miss Flowers, but how is it you came to be raised by Mrs Selby in the first place?’ Martin Lander enquired.