An Orphan's Journey

by Rosie Goodwin

  Susan shrugged as she nudged her towards an empty cubicle. None of them had doors and Pearl thought it was degrading to have to sit there with all and sundry being able to see what you were doing, but it didn’t seem to bother the other girls. No doubt they were used to it.

  Minutes later, the girls began to file down to the dining hall and Pearl fell into step beside Susan. The other girl was very slightly built, although her arms were muscled from the back-breaking work she did in the laundry. Her hair was chopped off to chin length, as was all the other girls’, and it was a dull, mousy-brown colour. But her eyes were her saving grace, they were a lovely deep grey colour that reminded Pearl of pictures she had seen of the sea on a stormy day. And she was kind, which Pearl appreciated.

  Once seated in the dining hall Mrs Bates said grace and then the girls tucked into dishes of unsweetened porridge washed down with tin mugs full of stewed tea. It was hardly tasty but it was filling and for Pearl, who was used to being hungry, that was enough.

  ‘Do you think I could risk goin’ back to the dormitory to check ’ow Eliza is?’ she asked Susan miserably when they set off to begin work, but Susan shook her head vigorously.

  ‘Only if yer wants to ’ave a taste o’ what she’s ’ad be now.’ She gave Pearl a sympathetic smile and Pearl felt she had no choice but to follow her.

  The day seemed to pass interminably slowly as Pearl fretted about Eliza. The only bright point in her day was when she had another lesson with Miss Sweet.

  ‘That’s very good, Pearl,’ the young woman praised her as Pearl laboriously managed to write down the first five letters of the alphabet on her slate. ‘We’ll have you reading and writing in no time at this rate. But tell me, where is Eliza today?’

  Tears welled in Pearl’s eyes. ‘Please, miss, she were scared, wi’ bein’ in a strange bed in a strange place an’ she wet the bed so Mrs Bates ’as punished ’er.’

  ‘I see.’ Just for a moment, Pearl thought she glimpsed a flicker of anger in the teacher’s eyes, but then she forced a smile back to her face and made her way back to her desk without comment.

  It was not her place to comment on the way the children in the workhouse were chastised, Marianne Sweet thought, but she certainly didn’t agree with it. She was from a very well-to-do family and had no need to work but, as she had told her father at breakfast only that morning, she enjoyed the few hours she spent teaching the children each day and it gave her a sense of worth. Her father had sniffed disdainfully, but she knew deep down that he was proud of her. The same couldn’t be said for her mother, who was a terrible snob and believed that women need only be trained in how to make good wives and mothers. She had been parading an endless stream of suitors in front of Marianne for the last couple of years but, as yet, not one of them had appealed to her, and she had remained obstinately single.

  Now she watched Pearl lean over her slate again. The girl was concentrating so hard on what she was doing that her tongue was in her cheek and she seemed oblivious to everything that was going on around her. She was like a little sponge, soaking up every bit of knowledge she could – unlike some of the other girls who made it clear they were only there because they had no choice. She was a pretty girl too, Marianne thought, or at least she would be if dressed in the right clothes and taken care of. Her hair, although it had been hacked off, had sprung into a halo of soft curls that framed her face and her eyes were a lovely shade of green that reminded her of spring grass. With a little shake of her head the young woman forced herself to concentrate on the rest of the class. She really shouldn’t have favourites but sometimes it was hard not to.

  For Pearl, the end of the lesson came all too soon and once the class was over the girls began to file back out of the room.

  ‘Pearl, a moment please.’

  Pearl hurried to the desk and looked at Miss Sweet worriedly.

  ‘It’s all right, dear, you haven’t done anything wrong.’ She smiled kindly. She was dressed in a pale-green gown today and Pearl was sure she was the prettiest woman she had ever seen.

  ‘I couldn’t help but notice that your hands are very sore.’ Miss Sweet reached out and took Pearl’s roughened hands in her own for a second. They were red raw and covered in weeping blisters from the long hours they had been submerged in scalding water. Dropping them hastily she told her, ‘I shall bring you some lotion in tomorrow that will soothe them but . . . could we keep it between ourselves?’

  ‘Oh yes, miss, thank yer, miss.’ Feeling as if she was floating on a cloud, Pearl turned and ran out to catch up with the rest of the girls, but Miss Sweet’s kindness stayed with her for the rest of the day and was a distraction from her worries about Eliza.

  Until they returned to their room that evening, that was, when she found Eliza curled into a foetal position beneath the thin grey blanket on her bed. The rest of the girls had gone to the toilet block, but Pearl had risked coming back to the dormitory to check on her sister and bring her the slice of dry grey bread she had managed to sneak out of the dining hall for her. Now she was even more glad that she had.

  The room was in darkness but even in the gloom she could clearly see how ghastly pale Eliza was.

  ‘Eliza . . . are you all right?’ Pearl tentatively reached out to touch her sister’s face but the girl flinched away from her. ‘Eliza, please speak to me?’

  Eliza continued to stare blankly at the wall so Pearl gently peeled the blanket back, and the sight that met her eyes when she did made her flinch. From halfway down Eliza’s back to just above her knees was a criss-cross of angry-looking weals. In places the cruel split cane that Mrs Bates had used had broken the skin and she was covered in congealed blood.

  ‘Oh, Eliza.’ Pearl was so upset and horrified that she didn’t know what to say. As it was, she had no chance to anyway, for at that moment the door opened and Mrs Bates stood there, her face a mask of fury.

  ‘Why aren’t you in the toilet block with the rest of the girls?’ she barked.

  Pearl’s eyes flashed as she stared defiantly back at the woman. She couldn’t keep quiet this time; she had to say something. ‘I wanted to see how my sister was,’ she snapped back. ‘And it’s a good job I did. Look at the state of her – she needs a doctor.’

  Mrs Bates was so angry that her face flushed a dull, brick red and she looked as if she was about to burst a blood vessel. ‘How dare you answer me back like that, you little hussy!’ Stepping into the room she put the oil lamp she was carrying down on the nearest bedside locker and advanced on Pearl with her hand raised. Once close enough, she smacked Pearl about the ear so hard that Pearl’s head bounced on her shoulders and she heard bells ring, but she wouldn’t give the woman the satisfaction of letting her see her cry.

  ‘Me sister needs a doctor,’ she repeated doggedly as the woman reached out and grasped her arm in a cruel grip.

  ‘It’ll be you as needs a doctor when I’ve finished with you.’ Mrs Bates yanked her back out on to the landing just as the first of the girls appeared on their way back from the toilet block. Pearl had a brief glimpse of Susan’s frightened face, but then Mrs Bates had dragged her to the top of the stairs and was dragging her down them. With her weaker leg, Pearl struggled to keep up and at one point she slipped, but the woman continued on with Pearl’s knees scraping painfully on the hard wooden steps. By the time they reached the bottom, blood was dripping from the scrapes and cuts but Pearl sensed that there was much worse to come. When they reached Mrs Bates’s office, she was proved right. The woman threw her inside, slammed the door and, as Pearl lay in a heap on the floor, went to fetch a lethal-looking cane from her desk.

  ‘Seems to me that both you and your sister need to learn a little humility and obedience,’ she snarled, as she crossed back to Pearl and stood over her like an avenging angel.

  The cane rose and whistled through the air and seconds later Pearl winced as it smacked across her bare legs. The pain was excruciating but still she didn’t cry out, although she couldn’t stop the
tears from flowing. All she could think of was how terrified Eliza must have been when Mrs Bates was caning her, and her hatred of the woman began to grow from that moment. Again and again, the cane rose and fell until Pearl was sure she was going to faint from the pain. But then, mercifully, the blows stopped and, peering up at Mrs Bates through swollen eyes, she saw her standing breathless with a look of satisfaction on her face.

  ‘You won’t be so quick to cheek me in future, will you, girl?’ There was an evil glint in her eye as she nudged Pearl with the toe of her boot. ‘Now, get back to your dormitory and no loitering on the way else you’ll feel more of the same. I don’t want hear another peep out of you or your sister.’

  Somehow Pearl managed to drag herself to her feet and stagger out into the hallway, leaving drops of blood on the floor in her wake. Then one by one she tackled the stairs, feeling as if she were climbing a mountain. After what felt like a lifetime, she made it back to the dormitory, and as she headed for her bed Susan’s voice came to her through the darkness.

  ‘Are yer all right, Pearl?’

  ‘Y-yes. Go to sleep else you’ll get in bother too,’ she answered, managing to keep her voice level, despite being on the brink of yet more tears. Somehow, she managed to climb into the bed, but she was in so much pain that she couldn’t bear the weight of even the thin blanket on her wounds so she lay on the top of it, shivering.

  ‘Oh, Ma, Ma where are you?’ she whimpered into the darkness, but the only answer was the sound of the other girls snores, while through the window she could see the snow softly falling. She had never felt so alone.

  Chapter Four

  ‘S

  o where are Pearl and Eliza today, Freda?’ Miss Sweet asked a girl sitting at a desk in the front of the classroom the next afternoon. Freda was well known for being a bully and a troublemaker and Miss Sweet wasn’t fond of her at all. She was tall for her age with a spotty complexion and teeth that protruded over her bottom lip.

  Freda glanced up at her and informed her with a hint of glee, ‘Mrs Flanders sent ’em both, that’s Pearl an’ Eliza, to the infirmary when they got into the laundry this mornin’, miss.’

  ‘Oh? And why was that?’

  ‘They both got a canin’ off Mrs Bates,’ Freda informed her. ‘Eliza fer wettin’ the bed an’ Pearl fer stickin’ up fer her. But Eliza couldn’t walk very well this mornin’ an’ Pearl were burnin’ up wi’ fever so they both got a day off work.’

  ‘I should think so, if they are as bad as you say they are,’ Miss Sweet retorted, as her dislike for Freda grew. She did try very hard not to have favourites; all of the children in there were to be pitied, but Freda did nothing to endear herself. ‘Thank you, Freda,’ she said primly, silently cursing Mrs Bates. In the time she had been working there Mrs Bates had inflicted the same punishment on a number of children and she didn’t agree with it at all. Of course, she realised that in such an establishment there had to be a code of discipline, but surely not to the extent that Mrs Bates doled it out?

  As soon as the afternoon classes were over, Miss Sweet tidied her desk and collected her cloak and bonnet before setting off purposefully for the infirmary. Thankfully, she had met Sister May, who ran it, a number of times. Unlike Mrs Bates, she seemed to genuinely care for the people who were admitted so Marianne had no doubt she wouldn’t object to her visiting.

  ‘I’ve come to see how the Parker girls are,’ Miss Sweet informed her when Sister May opened the door of the infirmary. She was tiny with bright eyes and a kind face and reminded Marianne of a little bird hopping about the place. But today she shook her head gravely, as she ushered her inside.

  ‘Neither of them are at all well,’ she answered truthfully. ‘Eliza is completely traumatised. It’s as if she’s locked herself away in a world of her own, and Pearl . . . well . . .’ She tutted. ‘The poor child has a raging fever.’

  ‘But she will be all right?’

  The sister shook her head. ‘It’s in God’s hands now. We’re doing all we can. She had a severe thrashing but with this fever on top it could go either way . . .’

  Miss Sweet frowned. ‘May I see them?’

  ‘Of course.’ The sister led her to the ward where the children were lying in beds next to each other. ‘But I doubt either of them will know you’re here,’ she warned.

  At the sight of them Miss Sweet’s temper rose, so much that she thought she was going to choke. ‘This is quite appalling. Mrs Bates should be reported to the guardians,’ she said, as tears pricked at her eyes.

  The sister patted her arm. ‘I quite agree, but both you and I know that nothing would come of it even if anyone dared to report it. Mrs Bates would just say that the children became aggressive with her while she was trying to reprimand them and she was simply defending herself. A nurse who used to work here did just that once and she was gone in no time. The guardians don’t know half of what goes on here, that’s the trouble.’

  ‘Then perhaps it’s time I spoke up and told them,’ Miss Sweet replied, her eyes never leaving Pearl’s flushed face.

  ‘Hmm, and they would just find some excuse to finish you too, and then where would the children be? They rely on you to show them a little kindness during the time they spend with you; you’re the only bright spot in their day unless they end up in here,’ the sister pointed out.

  Miss Sweet’s shoulders sagged in defeat. She knew the sister was speaking the truth, and as she slowly left the ward, she had never felt so useless in her life.

  Luckily Pearl’s fever soon broke and she started to recover, but the sister allowed them both to stay in the infirmary for a few days. During that time, Pearl learned from the kindly sister just how huge the workhouse was. As well as the dormitory where she and Eliza slept, there was an isolation hospital, a ward where the lunatics were kept, the infirmary, the Gothic-style chapel, the dining hall, a nur-sery for the babies and numerous other dormitories that housed the boys and the older men and women who were separated the instant they entered the place. It seemed so sad to Pearl that families should be separated just because they had fallen on hard times, but that was the way the place was operated. She had also discovered that while the women earned their keep doing the laundry or cooking and cleaning, the men were put to work breaking rocks or picking oakum, which involved picking fibres from old hemp ropes. The resulting material was then sold to shipbuilders or the navy who would mix it with tar and use it to line ships.

  Pearl and Eliza were finally released from the infirmary on Saturday evening.

  ‘Well at least we don’t ’ave to go to work tomorrer,’ Susan said chirpily when she met Pearl leading Eliza back to the dormitory on Saturday evening after they were released. ‘An’ we get a crackin’ nice dinner on Sunday an’ all. The guardians come sometimes an’ the housemuvver allus makes sure to put on a good show fer ’em. We ’as to go to chapel in the mornin’ first, though, but after dinner we can do what we like wivvin reason. Some o’ the kids get visitors on a Sunday. Do yer fink your ma will come?’

  Pearl was shocked by how accepting her friend was of the place. She was sure that she would never be happy here no matter how long she had to stay.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Pearl answered truthfully. She had prayed for her to come every single day while she lay in the infirm-ary but as yet there’d been no sign of her. ‘But what about yours, will she come?’ She realised that she didn’t even know if Susan’s mother was still alive and hoped she hadn’t put her foot in it.

  Susan smiled. ‘Ner, she won’t be able to, she’s too ill. That’s why I’m in this place; she’d never ’ave let me go uvverwise. She’s really beautiful, yer see. We lived in a lovely ’ouse in Chelsea wi’ servants an’ everyfin’ but then me dad died an’ we ’ad to move to a smaller place before she took bad. But just as soon as she’s better she’ll come; I know it.’

  ‘Ooh, your tongue should fester, Susan Harper,’ Freda Swift mocked.

  Susan’s cheeks flamed but before she could say any mo
re Mrs Bates appeared and all the girls fell silent.

  ‘So what’s this?’ The stern-faced woman glared at them, putting the fear of God into each of them. ‘Why aren’t you all getting ready for bed? Come along now, unless you want to feel my cane on your backsides.’ As her eyes momentarily rested on Pearl and Eliza, Pearl could have sworn she saw her smirk, but she wouldn’t give her an excuse to punish her again so she merely looked away.

  Ten minutes later, by which time the children were all in bed, the woman returned, collected the oil lamp and left the room without another word.

  The instant she had gone, Susan leaned up on her elbow and grinned at Pearl. She had missed her and was pleased to have her back. Pearl was the only friend she had made since entering the wretched place. ‘We can relax a bit now,’ she told her. ‘Mrs Bates will go off duty till morning an’ Miss Hayes who takes her place ain’t nowhere near as bad. She don’t mind the girls havin’ a little natter wivvin reason. So tell me, are you an’ Eliza better now? We ’eard as you were really poorly.’

  ‘We’re better than we were,’ Pearl said. ‘Though it’ll take a while for the wounds from the cane to ’eal. She laid into us good an’ proper.’

  ‘Hm!’ Susan screwed her nose up. ‘She’s bleedin’ wicked, that one is. I ’eard as ’ow ’er husband left her fer a younger woman so she ’ad to come an’ work ’ere to keep ’erself. Yer couldn’t blame ’im fer leavin’ that old bag, could yer?’

  Pearl couldn’t help but grin into the darkness; Susan was a character and she liked her. All around them the girls were whispering and giggling but eventually the room grew quiet and they slept.

  The next morning being the Sabbath, they were allowed an extra half-hour in bed, and after washing and dressing they made their way to the dining room, where they were served with the usual lumpy, bland porridge for breakfast – but at least if what Susan had told them was true, they had a nice dinner to look forward to.