by Valerie Wood
Lizzie bent her head and refused to be drawn any further. Maria could see that she was too afraid or ashamed to say any more. She took her gently to one side, away from Tom and Alice and very quietly said, ‘Listen to me, Lizzie. If anyone tries to hurt thee or tries to make thee do summat against thy will, come to me – come to my house and I’ll take care of thee. Understand?’ She shook her gently to impress what she was saying.
They stayed with her, waiting for Annie’s return. Maria sent Tom to look for kindling and they lit a small fire which sent dark shadows dancing around the room, accentuating the bareness but giving a little warmth and comfort, but still Annie didn’t come.
‘I’ll go and look for thy ma, Lizzie,’ Maria said at last, ‘and send her home. Now don’t forget what I said.’
Lizzie nodded tearfully and on Maria’s instructions she bolted the door after them, promising to open it only to her mother or her brothers.
Maria hurried through the town. She guessed that Annie would be in one of the inns or alehouses, but which one she frequented she had no idea. Fruitlessly she searched in the dram shops by the river, peering through the steamy windows, and enquiring of other women who were listlessly hanging around outside several establishments, some about their own business, and others who with young children clinging to their skirts were waiting patiently for their men to appear, but no-one had seen Annie or Francis.
Wearily she decided to go home. It was very late and Alice had started to cry fretfully with tiredness. She hoped that by now perhaps Will would be back from wherever he had been. She wanted to discuss the matter with him, to ask if he thought she was imagining things. She felt a gnawing concern about Lizzie, a feeling deep in her mind that all was not right.
Surely, she thought, not even Francis Morton would harm a child, not a gentle, docile little girl like Lizzie, who had suffered bruises already at the hands of her bully of a father. She was bewildered too by Annie’s apparent lack of concern over her children, though she excused her, for she guessed how difficult it would be for Annie to manage on her own.
As they reached home, Tom charged in through the door in front of her but stopped so abruptly in his tracks that she almost fell over him. The glow from the fire highlighted the corners of the room and they stared in amazement at the sight of Francis Morton rising from a crouching position on the floor by the bed, where they had obviously disturbed him.
Maria, recovering from the shock of seeing him there, and with a growing anger at seeing him uninvited in her home, demanded, ‘What’s tha doing in here, how did tha get in?’
He smiled slowly at her. ‘Tha needs a new lock, Maria, tha’ll have to persuade Will to fix one. There’s a lot of villains about, tha can’t be too careful.’
‘Tha didn’t answer my question. What’s tha doing in here?’ Her voice was sharp.
His face flushed with anger and brusquely he answered, ‘I’m only looking for what’s mine.’
‘There’s nowt of thine in here, Francis Morton, so I’ll thank thee to leave now before Will gets back.’
Francis laughed savagely. ‘Dost think I’m afeard of that cripple? It’ll take more than him to scare me off.’
He took hold of her arm roughly. ‘Now then, what’s he done with ’sacks? Tha’d better tell me or it’ll be ’worst for thee.’
Angrily she shook him off. ‘I don’t know what tha’s on about. There’s no sacks in here, nor has there been.’ She stopped suddenly, drawing in her breath, as recollection came to her. What was it that Will had been doing last night when he was so late home, when she’d woken to find him moving something? He’d said something about stowing some stuff away, but in her sleepy state she’d thought that she was dreaming.
Francis caught her look of uncertainty and smiled again sardonically. ‘So – little innocent Maria, so chaste and virtuous, tha does know summat after all!’
‘I know nowt,’ she said, backing away from him.
‘Come on, Maria, tell me where he’s hidden them.’
He lifted her chin with his finger so that she was forced to look into his eyes. Blue, penetrating eyes, that sparkled like splinters of ice, cold and cruel.
Frantically she signalled to Tom and Alice to run, for the two children were standing in stark terror at the sight of their mother in Francis’s grasp. Eventually Tom understood her gestures and with a backward glance he slid quietly out of the room.
‘Thee and me could have a good time together.’ He ran his fingers down the front of her dress. ‘Tell me where he’s put ’sacks and we could go off together, just ’two of us.’
Slowly and deliberately he started to unfasten the buttons on her dress. ‘Tha knows I’ve always wanted thee, Maria,’ he muttered huskily. ‘That look of purity hides fire – I know it.’
Her dress fell to the floor in a heap about her feet and she shook her head and banged her fists against his chest.
‘No – don’t, please. I’ll lose my babby.’
He stroked her neck and breasts. ‘I won’t hurt thee. I promise,’ he murmured. ‘I just want to hold thee and touch thee.’
With a sudden spurt of fury she pushed him from her. ‘Is that what tha told ’bairn? Did tha say that to young Lizzie?’
‘Who’s been telling thee that?’ The viciousness in his voice frightened her and she shrank from him. ‘Just keep thy mouth shut or tha’ll feel my fist in it,’ he shouted and raised his hand towards her.
The next instant he was lying spreadeagled and groaning on the floor as the force of Will’s crutch caught him on the back of his head and sent him reeling.
Unbridled rage had given Will mercurial speed when he saw his son hurtle out of the dark entry, and Tom had blurted out to him to come quickly for Francis Morton was hurting his mother.
With all the strength he could muster, he grasped him now by his hair and coat collar and dragged him towards the door.
Maria cried out in fear, ‘Don’t hit him again, Will, tha’ll kill him.’
‘Killing’s far too good for ’likes of him.’ Will replied and with a great heave threw him outside into the entry.
* * *
The oil lamp was sending thin spirals of smoke twisting and curling up to the ceiling as Will and Maria talked quietly. The children were both asleep, worn out by the late hour and the turmoil of the evening.
Maria had attempted to tell Will some of her fears about Lizzie, and he said bitterly that he wished he’d hit Francis Morton harder and made a better job of it.
‘Could tha face moving away from here, love?’ he started to say when he stopped and they both listened intently to a sound coming from outside the door.
Will reached for his crutch and moved quietly across the room, then stopped as he heard a soft tapping on the door.
‘It’s only me, Maria – Will. Can I come in?’
Annie stood there with Lizzie in front of her. The child looked tired and white-faced, but Annie was flushed and her eyes were bright and feverish. When she spoke there was a tremble in her voice. ‘Hast tha seen him? Is he upstairs? Francis, I mean!’
Will took her arm gently to bring her into the room, but she shook him away fretfully.
‘I need to find him, tonight. I’ve a score to settle.’
‘He’s out somewhere licking his wounds,’ Will said with grim satisfaction. ‘He’ll have found some hole to crawl into.’
‘Then I’ll go and look in all ’holes.’ Annie answered bitterly. ‘I’m familiar wi’ most of ’em.’
She turned towards Maria. ‘Can I leave Lizzie here with thee for a bit? And if owt should happen to me, or if by any chance I don’t get back, will tha take care of her for me?’
She looked intently at Will who was watching her anxiously. ‘I know I can trust thee both to be good to her. I’ve taken care of ’lads already – they’re in Seamen’s Hospital, just for a bit like. They’ll look after them, till I – till I get back.’ Her voice broke and she bit back tears.
Maria put her a
rms around her. ‘What’s happening, Annie, where’s tha going? Tell us, we’ll help thee!’
Annie released herself from Maria’s embrace. ‘No, don’t make it worse for me, Maria. Don’t give me tha pity or I’ll weaken, like I always do. It’s time now for me to stand on my own two feet.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘All my life I’ve been ill-treated by men. My fayther, my husband and now by Francis. But I’ve put up with it, I’ve always thought that that’s what women had to do.’
She drew Lizzie towards her and the little girl buried her head in her mother’s skirts. Annie’s face hardened. ‘But when it comes to my bairns, then it’s a different matter. I’ll not let it happen to Lizzie. Nobody will harm her without answering to me!’
She smiled wistfully. ‘If I’d been lucky enough to have met somebody like thee, Will, things might have been different, but I was always attracted to ’wrong sort. So I’m begging thee to look after her, make sure she doesn’t make ’same mistakes as me.’
‘But where’s tha going, Annie?’ Will asked. ‘Don’t go looking for Francis, he’ll be in a foul temper after what’s happened here, and he’ll be looking for someone to pay for his sore head.’
Annie didn’t answer, she turned to kiss Maria on her cheek. ‘Tha’s been a good friend to me, Maria, be a friend to Lizzie too.’ She turned towards Will and he bent and kissed her tenderly on her upturned face.
‘Those are ’first loving kisses I’ve ever had,’ she said, her eyes brimming with tears, ‘except from my bairns. I know folk think I’ve neglected them, but nobody loves them more than I do.’
She flung her arms around Lizzie, then with a soft cry pushed her towards Maria and ran out of the room.
Will called after her as she ran swiftly out of the entry. ‘Wait, Annie – I’ll come with thee.’ But she was gone, disappearing into the shadows.
They both lay awake most of the night, staring into the darkness, their minds too unsettled for sleeping, Maria between Alice and Lizzie, her arms around both girls, consumed with a black foreboding about Annie, and Will at the bottom of the bed next to Tom, wondering what the morning would bring.
As dawn broke and Maria rose wearily to get ready for work, her body aching with fatigue, Will reached across and took hold of her hand.
‘Come back to bed, love, try to sleep for a bit longer.’
She sighed deeply but protested. ‘We need ’money Will, there’s nowt left.’
‘Come back to bed and get some rest. Tha must look tha best today.’ He smiled at the puzzled expression on her face. ‘I didn’t want to tell thee before, in case nowt came of it. We’ve got to see ’Mastersons this morning. We’re about to start a new life.’
Annie ran swiftly, her bare feet not heeding the sharp grit and the hard cobbles. She had to find Francis tonight whilst she still felt the angry fire and pain inside her. By the morning her rage would have vanished and he would once more be able to manipulate her with his sweet talk and his sexuality.
She knew that he met his cronies in the dram shops down by the river at the South End. It was not a place to be in after dark. In the old days the area was used by smugglers who brought in goods by boat to the wharf side. Now it was a haunt of rogues and thieves, and the mariners who had no conscience about selling their masters’ wares for their own profit. Under cover of darkness rolls of silk, cases of spirit and any other easily disposable goods were brought ashore and exchanged for money or for the return of a favour.
Annie kept to the shadow of the walls as she peered into the dimly lit windows of the taverns. If she was found nosing around, chances were that she would be given a cut lip and a black eye, or worse.
There was no sign of Francis as she crept quietly from one place to another, and she was beginning to feel cold. A chill wind was blowing off the river, and she wished that she could have a drop of rum or gin to warm her. Her anger was slowly melting as discomfort took hold when she heard the sound of his laughter.
Immediately it provoked her resentment, for it was the laughter of a man without a care or a worry in his being, and she watched him as he emerged from a gin shop just a few yards from where she was standing.
He waved a cheerful goodbye to someone inside and made a sly remark to which there was an answering guffaw of male laughter, and then turned to walk towards Annie where she stood, pressed close to the wall, hardly daring to breathe.
She watched as he passed within inches of her, so close that she could have stretched out a finger to touch him. But she let him go. She could see his handsome face with a smile still lingering on it, and for a moment she experienced a yearning to hold him close just once more.
But the thought of the miseries and hurt that she had endured, and the fear that Lizzie would follow the same path unless she stopped it here and now, gave her courage. She put aside her own longings and hardened herself against Francis, whose concern, she knew, was only with his own bodily needs.
She draped her shawl over her head and covered her face, so that only her eyes were showing, and stepped out of the shadows behind him.
‘Hello, mister,’ she crooned. ‘Does tha fancy a bit of entertainment?’
Francis swung round. He obviously had not heard her behind him and knew that that was dangerous in a place like this, where the unwary could so easily find themselves in trouble.
‘Who is it?’ His voice was cautious.
‘Does that matter?’ she answered softly. ‘There’s no need for names when tha’s taking thy pleasure.’ She was close to him now and could sense his awakened interest. She could hear the smile in his voice as he answered her.
‘I need to call thee summat – if we’re to know each other!’
She kept her voice demure, for she knew that timidity excited him, while vulgarity in women offended and angered him. ‘Then call me Angel, and I’ll take thee to Heaven!’
He took hold of her arm firmly. ‘I’d like to see ’angel’s face before we go to Paradise!’
She simmered with fury as she listened to his honeyed words and knew that this was all sport to him. She determined that this was one game that he would lose.
‘Come with me then,’ she said as gently as she could, keeping her emotions in check, but with a quaver in her voice. ‘I know a quiet place where we can be comfortable, and then tha can look at me – all tha wants!’
As she took his hand in hers she could feel the throbbing of his pulse, and his anticipation. He moved closer towards her as she led him down towards the river.
‘Hey, wait a minute.’ He stumbled as he followed her down beneath the old wooden wharf. ‘Where’s tha taking me? I can’t see, it’s as black as Hell down here. We’ll slip into ’water and I can’t swim.’ Panic showed in his voice and Annie felt the satisfaction of power.
‘It’s all right,’ she said soothingly. ‘Tha’ll be able to see in a minute. We’re underneath ’wharf, but don’t worry, it’s quite safe, ’tide is out and there’s only soft mud below. There’s a walkway under here where we’ll be able to sit down.’
She led him, his hand gripping hers, until they reached a stretch of wide planking, where he sat down in some relief.
‘Well, that’s taken ’passion out of me,’ he said roughly. ‘Tha’ll have to work hard for thy reward now. Is this thy regular patch?’
He peered curiously at her. There were some small chinks of night sky coming through the planking above them and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he reached out for her shawl. ‘I know thee, I know that voice!’
‘And so tha should,’ said Annie, her voice bright and merry, as he pulled the shawl away from her face. ‘What a lark, eh, Frankie, tha didn’t guess?’
‘What’s thy game, Annie?’ He took hold of her roughly. ‘Has tha been following me? For if tha has!’
She was on dangerous ground, she heard the threat in his voice, but it only served to harden her resolve.
‘No, no, not following thee, Frankie – just looking for thee. I missed
thee – didn’t tha miss me?’ She put her head on his shoulder and stroked his thigh with long sensuous movements, feeling the muscles tense beneath his breeches.
He didn’t answer but she could hear the quickening of his breath as desire returned.
Gently she traced the outline of his mouth with her fingers, then slowly slid her hand down his throat and chest, until it came to rest at the belt on his breeches. She fumbled as she tried to undo the heavy buckle, until with a grunt he came to her assistance, and with clumsy haste tore off the belt, throwing it to one side.
‘Lie down!’ he commanded roughly as he knelt above her, and as she turned to obey she slipped her hand under the folds of her skirts to find the object she had concealed there.
His breath rattled in his throat as the thin steel blade found its mark in the softness of the flesh below his ribs and brought him to his feet.
‘Bitch!’ he gasped as oblivion started to cloud his comprehension. ‘Bitch. Curse thee!’ He fell again to his knees, his hand clutching the wooden shaft of the knife, and as he sprawled, his other hand touched the belt as it lay on the planking. With a sudden spasm he grasped it and lashed out at Annie, the buckle catching her on her cheek, drawing blood.
In cold fury she raised her knees to her chest and with an explosive force kicked out with both feet, knocking him off the walkway down to the mud below.
In unhurried calm and without looking down, she made her way back, feeling her way as surefootedly as she used to when as a child she had played beneath the wharf, scrambling and swinging from the creaking beams above the muddy water, daring and being dared by the other children. The ‘River Rats,’ they were named, for some of them, without a roof to call their own, made their homes there.
She ran, her feet making no sound, back to her room where she bundled bread into a cloth. The few remaining coins which she had left from Alan’s bonus she wrapped in a piece of rag and attached under her skirt. Taking more rags, she carefully wound them around her feet before putting on her boots.
She took one last look around the bare room before she opened the door, and caught sight of Alan’s bag in the corner where she had left it. It had been lying there ever since she had brought it home on the day she learned of his death, how in a drunken stupor he had got in the way of a careering barrel of blubber.
