The Ragamuffins

by Anna King

  Panting with rage, Sadie glared down the dimly lit street, then her attention was brought back to the presence of the unknown child by the sound of muffled sobbing. Careful not to frighten the poor little mite more than she had been already, Sadie called out softly, ‘It’s all right, love. The bad man’s gone, you can come out now.’

  When no answer came, just the continual quiet sobbing, Sadie moved cautiously nearer the sound, her eyes raised. She saw the rope dangling from the old beams and thought of climbing it, then common sense quickly dismissed the idea. That particular route might be all right for a small child, but no way would it take her weight.

  Standing directly beneath the rope she again called out, ‘I know you’re scared, love, but I ain’t gonna hurt you,’ but the sobbing only intensified.

  Sadie was in a quandary. It was obvious the child needed help, but if she wasn’t going to trust her enough to show herself, then there wasn’t much Sadie could do. On the other hand, she couldn’t just leave the child in this dump on her own. She wouldn’t be able to sleep nights if she walked away and abandoned the child to the mercy of any passing pervert, and God knows there were plenty of them about. Trying a different tack she said calmly, ‘All right, love. I don’t blame you for not coming down. I mean to say, yer don’t know me, but I don’t want to just go off an’ leave you, not after you helped me. After all, one good turn deserves another, don’t it? You scared off that nasty man, didn’t you? I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t of been here. But if you want me to go, then I will. Thanks for helping me, love, I’m really grateful.’ Sadie paused, her ears pricked for any sound from above. ‘I’m leaving now, love. ‘’Bye.’ So saying she walked loudly on the spot to make it sound as if she was going.

  Up above, Molly sat huddled on her bed, her young mind struggling to know what to do for the best. She was tired, cold and hungry, but most of all she was desperately frightened.

  Even though she had no clock, Molly knew that her brother should have been back hours ago. She knew too that for Micky to be so late something terrible must have happened to him. And she couldn’t even go and try to find him in case that horrible man was waiting for her to step outside the safety of her home.

  In her young life she had only known two men. One was her father, whom she had adored and who had made her feel safe and loved. The other man was Kenneth Wells. He had been nice at first, until…Her immature mind quickly shut down on what the man had been trying to do when Micky had come running back that day. Micky had saved her. From what exactly, Molly wasn’t quite sure, but she knew enough to know it was bad and nasty, and that just thinking of it made her feel sort of mucky inside.

  From her limited experience of life she had imagined that there was only one bad man she had to avoid, but now she knew better. Her world, until now, had been very black and white for Molly. She stayed in the derelict building while Micky was at work, so that the bad man couldn’t get her. Now she realised there were plenty more men of his type, and that new-found knowledge struck a chill into her heart. What if Micky didn’t come home? What if something terrible had happened to him? What would she do then? She couldn’t stay up here forever. She desperately needed help, and down below there was a woman who might be able to provide that help. But if she showed herself Micky might be angry with her for disobeying his orders. But Micky wasn’t here, was he? And if she had any chance of finding him she would need the help of a grown-up. If it had been a man downstairs, Molly wouldn’t have dreamed of asking for help. But women didn’t do nasty things to children; it was only men who did those nasty, dirty things. And the lady sounded nice. Still Molly hesitated, then she heard the woman’s footsteps leaving, and in that moment Molly made up her mind. Scrambling to the edge of the floor, she leant over the edge, crying out in a trembling voice, ‘Wait, lady. Don’t go. I’ll be down in a minute.’

  Sadie watched as the small figure deftly slid down the rope with expert ease making it obvious the young girl had done it many times before.

  Then the woman and girl were facing each other in the faint light of the moon shining through the rotting roof. Moving slowly, so as not to frighten the girl, Sadie gently took the small, cold hand and moved over to the empty doorway where, in the light shining brightly from the lamp post on the opposite side of the street, the two females took stock of each other. Molly’s huge eyes stared in amazement at the lady dressed in a bright red dress with matching feathers stuck on top of equally bright auburn hair. Her mouth agape, Molly, momentarily stuck for words, continued to gaze at the gaudy creature, a sight she had never seen before.

  Guessing what was going through the girl’s mind, Sadie laughed merrily. ‘Gawd ’elp us, love. Close your mouth before a moth flies in. I take it you’ve never seen anyone dressed like me before, ’ave you?’

  Instantly contrite at having been caught out in her thoughts, and aware she was displaying bad manners, Molly stuttered, ‘I’m sorry for staring, lady. Me mum always said it was rude to stare.’

  Her face softening, Sadie asked kindly, ‘And where is your mum, love?’

  At the mention of her much missed mother, Molly’s eyes, already moist, began to well up with fresh tears. ‘She died… and me dad, an’ all. An’… an’ I don’t ’alf miss ’em.’

  Her face tender, Sadie crouched down and said softly, ‘I’m sorry about that, love, I really am. But who looks after you now? You can’t be caring for yourself.’

  Sniffing loudly, Molly answered, ‘Me brother Micky looks after me. He’s nearly grown-up now, he’ll be 15 in a few weeks’ time. But… but he hasn’t come ’ome yet, an’… an’ he’s usually back by now.’ She gave another loud sniff. ‘And I’m scared something’s happened to ’im, ’cos he’d never leave me on purpose. He’s me brother, an’ he loves me.’

  When the strange woman’s arms went around her shoulders Molly flinched then, needing physical comfort, the comfort her mother used to provide, she relaxed against the soft, sweet-smelling woman. Feeling the small frame nestled so trustingly against hers Sadie swallowed hard. It had been a long time since she had felt contact with another human body. Her punters didn’t count. Contact with them was limited to the minimum amount of time possible. But that kind of contact was devoid of any warmth or affection; it was simply business. Now, with the child’s head nestled in the voluptuous folds of her breasts,

  Sadie felt a surge of tenderness and fierce protectiveness.

  Hugging the small girl tighter Sadie thought quickly. She couldn’t leave the child here to fend for herself; on the other hand there was the brother to think of. There could be any number of reasons why he was so late. And when, or if, he turned up and found his sister gone he would be frantic. She would have to leave a message of some kind. But how? She wasn’t in the habit of carrying writing material on her person. Maybe the child could help. Tilting Molly’s chin upwards she said, ‘Now look, love, I can’t leave you ’ere, so I’ll have to take you home with me… Hang on, mate, don’t be frightened…’ she added quickly as she felt the girl begin to struggle in her grasp. ‘What I was thinking was, we could maybe leave your brother a message, to let him know where you are. I can’t just take you away without leaving some sort of note for him, can I? I mean to say, what’ll he think when he comes home and finds you gone? Why, the poor little sod’ll be out of his mind with worry. The problem is, I ain’t got no paper or pen. How about you, love? You got anything we could write a note to your brother on?’

  Molly chewed her lip thoughtfully, her confused mind torn between the desire to go with the lady, or to stay here in the dark and cold waiting for Micky to turn up. What if he’d had an accident? No one knew about her, no one would come and tell her if Micky was hurt or… Her mind shied away from the unimaginable possibility to explain Micky’s absence.

  Watching the girl struggle with her conscience Sadie said wryly, ‘Unless you’d rather I fetched the law, ’cos I can’t leave you ’ere on your own.’

  Instantly Mol
ly’s eyes filled with fear. Her body trembling she cried, ‘Oh, no, please! Don’t tell the coppers. They’d take me away an’ put me back in the workhouse. An’… an’ it’s ’orrible there.’ Grabbing hold of Sadie’s hands Molly hung onto them like a drowning man clinging to a life raft. ‘We could write a note on me slate. Micky got it for me and some chalk so I could learn to spell and add up, ’cos I can’t go to school anymore. Wait a minute, I’ll go and get them.’ Scrambling up the rope she paused halfway and stared hard at the gaudily dressed woman, a woman Molly was now desperate to hold on to. ‘You won’t go, will you, lady? You will wait for me, won’t you?’

  Sadie nodded. ‘’Course I won’t leave yer, you silly cow. Go on, get your slate and chalk.’

  Molly was up and back down the rope in record time. ‘’Ere you are, lady. You’ll ’ave to write the message, I ain’t that good at writing yet. But I’m learning. After all,’ she whispered sadly, ‘I ain’t got nothing else to do all day.’

  Taking the slate, Sadie again moved out of the building into the street where the light was better, and after a moment’s thought asked the hovering Molly, ‘What’s your brother’s name again, love, I’ve forgotten. Come to think of it, I don’t know your name either. In fact, we ain’t been properly introduced.’ Holding out her hand she said in mock formality, ‘I’m Sadie North. How do you do?’

  A shy smile lit up Molly’s face as she solemnly took the proffered hand saying, ‘My name’s Molly, and me brother’s name is Micky, Micky Masters.’

  ‘Hello, Molly, pleased to meet you. Now then, we’d best get a move on.’ Raising her gaze to the darkening sky she added, ‘It looks like it’s going to chuck it down any minute.’

  Finishing off the brief note that merely gave her name and address and that Molly was safe with her, Sadie put the stub of chalk in her beaded bag. Going back into the damp-smelling building, Sadie, with Molly close behind, looked around for somewhere to leave the slate so that Micky would be able to see it the minute he returned. The trouble was that with no proper lighting, except that from the street lamp on the other side of the road, and the weak stream of moonlight, it was difficult to think of where to place the slate where it would be easily seen.

  Voicing her dilemma, Molly said earnestly, ‘I know, lady, I’ll put it on our bed. That’s the first place Micky’ll look for me.’ Once again Molly scrambled up the rope, placing the slate at the foot of the double mattress.

  She was about to descend the rope when Sadie called up, ‘You’d better bring your coat, if you’ve got one. It’s turning bleed— I mean it’s turning bitter, an’ it’s starting to rain.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’ve got a coat, Micky bought me one at Easter. I’ll get it. Hang on, lady, I won’t be a minute.’

  The desperate fear in Molly’s voice caused a tightness in Sadie’s throat, while at the same time she wondered what she was letting herself in for. For all she knew, this Micky character might be a thieving ruffian. Then she uttered a short laugh. What was she thinking? After all the years on the streets she was more than able to look after herself – she’d had enough practice. And if she could handle grown men, she didn’t think she’d have much difficulty in managing a young lad of fourteen.

  Terrified the lady might leave if she dallied too long, Molly grabbed her coat, bouncing on the mattress as she shrugged her arms into the thick sleeves. ‘I’m coming, lady, I’m coming,’ she called out anxiously, still afraid that the lady might change her mind and leave her here alone. As she bounded off the bed she noticed the slate fall to the floor. Hurriedly she laid it back upright at the foot of the bed, placing it directly under the moonlight so that it would be easy for Micky to see when he got back.

  Once down in the lower part of the building Molly gazed up at the painted lady, her heart beating rapidly, still not sure she was doing the right thing.

  Then Sadie stretched out her hand and Molly hesitated no more. Pausing only to look one more time down the street hoping to see the familiar figure of her brother racing towards her, Molly’s face fell in disappointment. Clasping Sadie’s hand tightly, Molly didn’t utter another word as she went trustingly with her new-found friend.

  * * *

  Back in the building the rain Sadie had forecast began to pour down heavily. Most of the water missed the mattress which Micky had wisely pushed up against the furthest wall for just such occurrences. But the foot of the mattress was unprotected. As the rain poured through the hole in the roof, the rivulets quickly washed the carefully worded slate clean, completely obliterating the hastily chalked message.

  Chapter Twelve

  Micky was inconsolable. Seated hunched by the fireplace in a worn, comfortable armchair back at Ted’s house he stared miserably into the fire, watching the flames jump and lick at the heaped coal and wood laid in the grate, but inside he felt cold, so desperately cold.

  It was now gone eleven and Nora, after much prompting and gentle bullying from her son, had finally, albeit reluctantly, gone to her bed leaving the young lad in the safe hands of Ted, but not before she had put a liberal dose of laudanum in Micky’s cocoa. Just in case the lad got it into his head to try and sneak out to trawl the streets in another desperate attempt to find his sister. Then she and Ted would have two children to worry about, and Lord knows, one was enough!

  Drawing up the matching armchair Ted pulled the chair closer to the silent youth until his knees were touching Micky’s thin ones. ‘Look, mate. There’s nothing we can do tonight. I know you’re half outta your head with worry – bleeding hell, I would be in your shoes – but yer’ve gotta look on the bright side. Maybe she just wandered off, you know, looking for yer, and…’ Ted’s words trailed off miserably. He was only making things worse by trying to give the lad false hope. Despite his attempts to comfort Micky, deep down Ted was imagining the worst. After all, the girl was only eight and, knowing their circumstances, would be unlikely to walk into the nearest police station to ask for help. Even so, Ted had gone back to Mare Street police station to ask if any lost young girl had been brought in by some kind passerby. Then he’d had to answer some difficult questions as to why he was inquiring about a lost child, especially as he’d only just bailed out a young lad suspected of theft a couple of hours previously. Ted had hoped to find John Smith still on duty, but unfortunately that kindly man had gone back on his beat, and Ted couldn’t waste time looking for him. His main concern had been to get back home to Micky whom he had left with his worried mother.

  Receiving no response, Ted touched the slim leg lightly, then gave a tired smile. The laudanum had finally taken effect. Easy in his mind now he knew Micky would sleep for a good few hours, Ted took the opportunity to do the same.

  But sleep didn’t come easily to Ted. Not when his mind was filled with images of a young, vulnerable child in the hands of a pervert. Yet even with the horrendous images, the long day, coupled with worry, finally caught up with him. Exhausted beyond measure Ted’s last thought was his planned visit to the bakery in the morning to find out just what that old witch Agnes had been up to, accusing and getting Micky arrested for stealing. And by God, he’d find out, even if he had to shake the truth out of the malicious old cow.

  * * *

  Agnes was in the scullery making herself yet another mug of strong tea in an effort to stay awake when the loud knocking resounded through the small terraced house.

  Hurrying through the parlour to the front door, her smile of welcome was wiped from her face when, instead of a happy Kenneth holding a small child in his arms, there stood a man she hardly recognised, so contorted was his face with savage rage. Kicking the door shut behind him, Kenneth grabbed Agnes’ arm in a vicious grip as he snarled, ‘Where is she, you deceitful bitch? Where’s my Molly?’

  As the pain shot up her arm, Agnes tried not to cry out for fear of alerting the neighbours, if the loud banging at her door at this hour of the night hadn’t already done so. Groaning pitifully she gasped, ‘Please, Kenneth. You’re ’urting me a
rm. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did what you told me to, you know I did. If the kid ain’t where she’s supposed ter be, I don’t know where she is. Why on earth would I?’

  The pressure on her arm eased as Kenneth flung her to one side, striding past her into the parlour without so much as a backward glance at the quietly crying woman.

  Timidly following him, Agnes looked at the tall, well-dressed figure with growing unease. It was the same figure who, only earlier that evening had held her in his arms, his face wreathed in smiles as he’d told her over and over how grateful he was to her for giving him the opportunity to rescue his niece.

  Swallowing hard she moved nearer and when she tried to speak her voice came out in a croak. ‘Are yer sure you went to the right place, Kenneth? I mean, maybe, you know, in the dark, like, you…’

  Kenneth’s fist came down hard on the mantelpiece making Agnes jump in alarm. Then she began to retreat as the murderous-looking man bore down on her.

  ‘You stupid bitch. Of course I went to the right place. It’s the only house still standing in that road.’

  As he approached, Agnes stepped back further, her heart racing with fear. There was something wrong here, something terribly wrong. She could understand Kenneth being upset at not being able to find his niece, but nothing, at least, nothing normal, warranted this terrifying display of emotion.

  ‘You were the only one other than me who knew where those brats were living. So I’ll ask you again, and this time I want the truth, or so help me God I’ll wring your scrawny neck.’

  As he came nearer Agnes tried to run, then screamed in pain as she felt her hair being pulled viciously by the very roots from her head.