Fred took his time as he completed the paperwork for the release of the men, women and children, knowing full well this would aggravate Cara Flowers to boiling point. Then he watched from the front door as they trooped out of the gate. He saw the hugs and handshakes as they greeted the woman who they saw as their saviour, the High and Mighty Miss Cara Flowers.
Snorting his disgust, he slammed the front door shut and with a sigh he rolled his eyes at the sound of his wife’s screeching voice. Now what?
‘Mr Tulley!’ Ada yelled. ‘The children’s quarters are empty! We have no kids left!’ Her voice assaulted his ears from behind as she followed along behind him. They walked back to his office and he slumped into his chair behind his desk.
‘That’s correct, Mrs Tulley, I’m glad to see you are your usual observant self.’ His sarcasm was lost on her, however, as she continued to rail.
‘Whatever shall we say when the Board meets again?’
With another huge sigh, Fred said, ‘We will explain to them how Cara Flowers is finding the inmates work and housing and that we now have plenty of room for more to enter this humble abode.’ Seeing her grin showing her blackened teeth, he shook his head and screwed up his mouth in disgust.
*
Leading her group away from the ‘Spike’ Cara began to explain about the houses in Gozzard Street.
‘I’m afraid they are in a terrible state. They need a lot of work doing on them, but if you can live in them while the work is undertaken, then at least you have a home of your own. The workers from my other cottages have agreed to come over and help so it will speed up the repairs.’
Traipsing through the streets, the group looked like a band of raggle-taggle gypsies. Thin frames were almost hidden by the rags they wore. Dirt and grime was ingrained in their skin, and the odour they gave off was appalling. Their short hair was testament to where they had been living. Cara saw the children’s shoes with the toes cut away to allow for growth. She noticed one man’s boot, the sole flapping loose and slapping in time with his tread. The long skirts of the women had great gaping holes in; they had nothing to patch them with. But, for all that, they were giving their grateful thanks at being given this opportunity to have a life outside of the workhouse.
Arriving in the vicinity of the houses she had bought, Cara saw the men’s faces fall and said quickly, ‘I did warn you they were in disrepair…’ Looking at the buildings, she added, ‘I’m so sorry, I think it’s more than that… they’re dilapidated! I was so eager to get you all released I don’t think I realized how bad they are!’ Cara felt wretched.
One of the women slapped her child soundly for calling the houses ‘shitholes’ before she said to him, ‘You, young man, can always go back to the “Spike”, you ungrateful little bugger!’ Turning to Cara, she said, ‘I ain’t half sorry, Miss, but you watch we’ll have this lot looking like mansions in no time! We’re just grateful for what you’re doing for us.’
Cara’s spirits lifted slightly at the woman’s words.
Her son muttered his apology to Cara and she smiled down at him. ‘If your dad and the other men will go to the market for food and other things, maybe they’ll bring some sweets back for all you children.’ The lad grinned widely.
The women and children immediately went about selecting a house to live in and Cara handed out a few pounds to each of the men. She knew with a few ‘bob’ in their pockets, the men could hold up their heads with dignity. She smiled as windows were flung wide and the delighted squeals of the children filled her ears. Her spirits lifted even more as she watched work begin, the women shouting orders to their men and children.
Cara walked back into the town with the men. She enjoyed their banter, each promising to pay her rent once they were on their feet.
‘I live at ‘The Laburnums’ in Proud’s Lane, so if you have any problems you can find me there,’ Cara said. ‘Now go and fill your larders and please… don’t forget the sweets for the children.’
‘More than our life’s worth,’ one of the men said then added, ‘thank you Miss Flowers, thank you from the bottom of every heart here.’
Blushing, Cara said jauntily, ‘Be off with you otherwise your wives will be playing hell with you.’
Waving goodbye in the market, she watched the men walk away. Her thoughts turned swiftly to those left behind in the workhouse. She needed to find other properties now. She had to make good on her promise. The warm feeling she’d experienced earlier was replaced by worry now as she thought about how to fulfil that promise.
Walking up Proud’s Lane, Cara’s thoughts turned back to the people and properties she had just left. Had she made an error in judgement with those particular buildings? Could they be made habitable… or were they too ramshackle? Yes, the people were grateful, but would they have been better off left where they were in the workhouse? No. She could not believe that. She determined to ensure those houses would be made comfortable quickly for the families living in them.
She also remembered approaching the estate agent some while back about the land abutting Cara’s Cottages. She had plans for that piece of waste ground and had asked him to discover who it belonged to.
Daisy met her at the door, shouting, ‘Cara, a letter’s come for you!’
Hugging her younger sister, the young woman took the letter to the kitchen and sat at the table.
“Now then Miss Daisy Flowers, how was school today?” Cara asked.
“Alright,” Daisy answered with a beaming face, “the teacher said I was good at reading cos I already knew my letters.”
“Good girl. I’m very proud of you.” Cara said then turned to Charlie. “And you, young man, how was your day?”
“It was okay, I did some sketching and the teacher liked it. She said I had a talent for it.”
“That’s marvelous. Oh I have such a clever family.” Cara said clapping her hands together.
As her siblings helped Gracie set the table for tea and cake, she couldn’t believe how well they had settled in with their new family, and she was grateful for it.
Opening the letter Daisy had passed to her, she scanned the words before saying,
‘Now there’s a turn-up for the books,’ she said to Gracie and Molly who looked on with puzzled expressions. ‘It seems the Chairman of the Board of Guardians wishes to come here and meet with me!’
‘Really?’ Gracie asked. ‘I wonder what he wants.’
‘I have no idea,’ Cara answered, ‘but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. You know he visited the residents in Cara’s Cottages?’
‘Why?’ Molly asked.
‘Apparently he was asking questions… about me. He wanted to know everything, but the cottagers told him to… go away!’
Molly giggled. ‘Damn cheek of the man!’
Cara continued, ‘Do you think he’s out to try and stop me getting people out of the workhouse?’
‘I don’t rightly see as how he can,’ Gracie muttered. ‘You ain’t breaking the law as far as I know, so it’s anyone’s guess.’
‘I don’t like it, Gracie! He’s snooping around asking questions of other people about me. Why doesn’t he come and ask me those questions rather than bother my tenants?’ Cara felt anger rising in her.
‘Now then wench, don’t get all riled up about it,’ Gracie soothed, ‘besides, maybe that’s why he wants to come over and meet with you.’
Cara nodded but the frustration and anger remained within her.
Whatever the reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that began to weigh her down. She had the dreadful feeling this meeting was a ploy… but to what end? Sighing heavily, she knew she would just have to wait and see.
Eighteen
The massive expanse of waste ground behind ‘Cara’s Cottages’ belonged to no one that he could discern and Mr Harris, the estate agent, wondered why Cara Flowers had enquired about it. Over the months of their dealings with other properties, he had promised to direct his clients to use Martin
Lander as their solicitor as Cara had promised to continue to use his agency. Mr Harris knew of the actions Cara had taken with regard to the workhouse and he admired her for it. He was also aware that for her to pursue her chosen task she would be on the lookout for any old buildings – and that’s where he came in.
Harris scanned his map of Bilston which lay on his desk. The patch of land Cara had indicated was shaped like the side of a house; floor, two sides and a pointed roof. It backed directly onto her cottages. One side was edged by Regent Street and the part which looked like a roof ran along the end of the allotment gardens. Behind this area was a larger patch still which abutted half the length of Proud’s Lane.
He thought whatever Cara Flowers intended for this scrubland would certainly be an improvement, and Harris had encouraged the young woman to stake her claim to this land with the local council before someone else did.
Folding the map, he dropped it into the drawer of his desk. He would be very interested to see how Cara’s next undertaking would pan out.
*
Martin Lander and Cara took a cab to the council offices. The local council, it seemed, owned the land she was interested in.
‘Well, Miss Flowers, that land does indeed belong to the council,’ the man sitting opposite her said, ‘and as far as I can tell there are no plans for its use. Therefore I can see no reason why it should not be sold to you.’
‘That’s marvellous!’ Cara gushed her thanks.
Telling her the asking price, the man was taken aback when Martin intervened. ‘That’s a great deal of money! Rather too much, I would say!’
Cara glanced at Martin, saying, ‘I do need that land, Martin, but as you say, it is rather a lot of money.’ Turning to face the council officer again, she said, ‘That land is turning into scrubland and, as you point out, there are no further intentions for its use. Therefore, I will offer you half the amount you have asked.’ Holding up a hand to prevent the man’s counterargument, she went on, ‘Consider… empty waste space which no one else wants and you can’t be rid of or… money in the bank and the millstone shifted from around your neck.’
Lander smiled as he watched her bargain for the land.
‘You have a very valid point there, Miss Flowers. I have to agree, hanging on to the land would not benefit the council in any way.’ Looking down at the paperwork then back to the girl, he added, ‘Therefore I concede. You may buy the land for your proposed amount.’ The council officer smiled as he stood to shake hands with the young woman who had stood her ground, so to speak. He had heard of this girl and was very pleased to see her wanting to help.
Cara beamed her happiness. ‘I will arrange for a banker’s draft immediately. You will have your money this very afternoon.’
‘Miss Flowers, may I ask your intentions for the land you have just purchased?’ The man asked as he signed the relevant documentation before passing it to Martin to witness.
Cara told him what she had in mind.
The man nodded then said, ‘Everyone in the town is talking of your good work, you are well known for your achievements.’ He saw Cara smile shyly and the blush rise to her cheeks. ‘You and I have agreed a deal here today and although your money is not yet in the council coffers, I am entrusting the deeds to the land to you right now.’ Standing up, he extended his hand. ‘Good luck with the land, Miss Flowers, I hope all works out well for you.’
Cara clutched the deeds tightly as they left the building and she chatted excitedly to Martin about her new acquisition on their journey home.
As they travelled, Cara told him of the meeting with the Chairman of the Board of Guardians later in the week and asked if he would be present. He assured her he would be delighted. She told him she was nervous about the upcoming meeting, not being at all sure how to handle herself, but his attendance and support would ease her worry somewhat.
Once more at home, Cara pondered her next move. She knew she now needed workers. She intended to turn the waste land into allotment plots for growing fruit and vegetables, thus providing work for more men to whom she would pay a small wage whilst they were being set up. But unfortunately she was unable to get the other men in the workhouse released as she had no more accommodation available. She had gone over her bank account figures and she had enough to invest in buying more housing for the workers. Knowing her family’s buying and selling of property over the years had ensured that Cara was now very wealthy, however she still needed to keep a wary eye on those figures. The last thing she needed was to run out of money before completing her task. She smiled as she realized the buying up of property appeared to run in the family.
The following day Cara hailed a cab and told the driver she would hire him for the day provided he didn’t mind waiting for her at times. The driver was more than happy to oblige the pretty young woman who was working so hard for those in need of her help.
Cara’s first port of call the following morning was with Mr Harris to collect the list of available properties he’d drawn up. He had told her it would be waiting for her at his office. And indeed it was.
Showing the paper to the cabbie, she asked his advice on the best way to visit all the properties on the list. Scanning the names, the cabbie pointed to each street in turn, and Cara climbed aboard to begin their journey.
The carriage rumbled through the streets slowly, every now and then manoeuvring around carts and people shuffling along. Cara was on her way to Brook Street which lay just around the corner from Gozzard Street. There were five houses vacant and she was eager to see them. These buildings stood on the corner where Brook Street met Temple Street. Climbing out of the carriage, Cara cast an eye over each. They were locally known as two-up two-down, having a kitchen and living room downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. Each house was joined to the next and had a front and back door. One entry which led to the back of each house stood at the end of the row. The houses were in a sorry state; roof tiles missing and window frames rotting away. Was it possible they would be habitable whilst renovations were underway? She needed every property she could lay her hands on so she would just have to find a way to make it work.
Cara climbed back into the cab, and it rolled along to its next destination. Chapel Street crossed the bottom of Temple Street so the journey was short. Out of the eight houses on one side of the street, four lay empty. Again, badly in need of repair, they were very much like the others she had viewed. Nine possibilities so far, all of which would need a lot of work doing to them.
The carriage left Chapel Street, crossing the busy main thoroughfare which was Oxford Street then came to a halt in Hare Street. Here four houses and what looked to have once been a warehouse or small factory stood in the shadows. She wondered why so many properties were standing empty? Maybe Mr Harris would know. She made a mental reminder to ask him.
Cara looked over each building. The yards were full of rubbish and the smell emanating caused her nose to wrinkle in disgust. She began to worry that the buildings were too far gone to be of use. Some had the remnants of what were once chimneys. Others had doors missing completely and their windows were smashed. The quarry floor tiles were lifting and would need to be replaced. The whitewash was peeling from the walls and mildew grew in abundance. The brickwork was black with the fine coal dust that seemed to coat everything. They were dark inside and Cara seriously wondered if they could be turned around and made into comfortable homes. But then, even the state they were in was preferable to the workhouse… wasn’t it?
Shaking her head in dismay, Cara asked the cabbie to move on to the next street. Here she climbed out to look at the buildings. These were in a dire condition, there was nothing left in the gaps where window frames had once stood. Standing back she noted half of the roof tiles were missing. Some had walls which were crumbling to the ground, they were complete ruins. They were very unsafe and she sighed as she discounted them completely. Climbing back into the cab, she asked to be returned to Harris’s office. Thirteen houses and a small factory
– how much was Mr Harris willing to sell them for? Certainly they were in worse condition than the others she had purchased and she was determined to remind Mr Harris of that fact.
Once more in the estate agent’s office, Cara asked, ‘Mr Harris, why are there so many empty properties down in that particular area?’
Pulling out the street map, the man spread it on the desk before her. Coming round to stand next to where she sat, he traced a finger over the area she had just visited. ‘As you can see, Gozzard Street is here and Brook Street here. Chapel Street and Hare Street are further down here. Now about ten years ago, scarlet fever broke out in that district and the council cordoned it all off. They didn’t know what else to do, so the whole area was put into quarantine as advised by the doctors.’ He pointed his finger and ran it around the square of streets, showing its enforced perimeter.
Returning to his own seat, he continued. ‘It was a dreadful time, no one was allowed in or out of that area for fear of the illness spreading to the rest of the town. The police patrolled and the council had to leave food by the fence they erected. Only one doctor volunteered to treat the sick.’ He shook his head sadly at the memory. ‘The fever ravaged the area and whole families succumbed. By the end, very few had survived, fortunately the doctor was one of them.’
‘Good grief!’ Cara said her hand on her chest. ‘That’s awful, those poor people!’ After a moment of scanning the map again, she realized just how many people must have died of the disease. Then she asked, ‘Why did the properties remain empty?’
The Workhouse Children Page 13
