An Orphan's Journey

by Rosie Goodwin

  After breakfast, they attended a service in the chapel and were then allowed into an enormous room where they mixed with the boys and the families that lived there. It was the only day the families could be together and it broke Pearl’s heart to see them clustered close, chattering away to each other like a little flock of starlings and making the most of every moment. It brought home to her how much she was missing her brothers and sisters and a lump formed in her throat as she pictured them in her mind.

  At lunchtime, they trooped back into the dining hall and just as Susan had said, some of the guardians of the workhouse were seated at the top table with the staff. Mrs Bates was simpering as she pandered to them and Pearl felt resentful, wondering what the guardians would say if they could see the state of her and Eliza’s backs. Eliza was worrying her, for since the day Mrs Bates had caned her she had barely said a word. She just went about with her head down, doing what she was told with a blank expression, as if all the sparkle had gone out of her.

  ‘Looks like we’re gonna ’ave a lovely dinner today,’ Pearl whispered encouragingly to her sister as they waited in the queue to be served. Some of the women who worked in the kitchen were already placing steaming trays and covered dishes full of food on the table in front of the staff and the guardians, and the delicious smell issuing from them was making Pearl’s stomach rumble in anticipation. They were served with creamy mashed potatoes, slices of thick juicy pork, and cabbage and carrots, which for once hadn’t been cooked to a pulp. Everyone carried their meals back to the tables, careful not to spill a drop, and once grace had been said they tucked in. There was apple pie to follow and Pearl thought she had never tasted anything so lovely in her life, but she noticed with concern that Eliza merely picked at hers.

  ‘Wasn’t that lovely?’ she said when the meal was over and they were allowed back into the visiting room. Some of the boys and families were already there, some in little groups, others sitting alone staring expectantly at the door.

  ‘Visitin’ is allowed this afternoon,’ Susan reminded them, and after finding a vacant table Pearl, too, sat staring at the door as if thoughts of her mother would somehow conjure her up. On the stroke of three the visitors began to trickle in, their eyes searching the room until they rested on the ones they had come to see.

  ‘You expectin’ someone?’ Susan asked curiously.

  ‘Er, not really.’ Pearl didn’t dare say that she was hoping their mother would come for them for fear of upsetting Eliza if she didn’t show up, but deep down she was sure that she would come. She’d had a few days to realise just how much Pearl had done about the home now, so surely she would be ready to take them back?

  But the minutes ticked away and still there was no sign of her.

  ‘What time does visitin’ finish?’ she asked Susan after a while.

  ‘Five o’clock, I reckon, an’ then we ’ave to go fer another service in the chapel afore supper,’ Susan informed her, although seeing as Pearl couldn’t tell the time it didn’t help her much.

  Many of the children who never had visitors had congregated into little groups, casting envious glances towards the luckier ones who did, and suddenly Pearl wondered why Susan’s mother hadn’t come. Surely, if she was as lovely as Susan professed, she would at least visit her.

  ‘Are you expectin’ anyone?’ she asked innocently.

  Susan flushed. ‘Ner, like I told yer, me ma’s too ill to come, else she’d be ’ere like a shot.’

  Freda, who was sitting on the next table, overheard what she had said and smirked, making Susan flush an even darker shade of red.

  ‘Come on, let’s go an’ sit at that table over by the winder.’ She walked off quickly and Pearl followed her with Eliza trailing behind. Now that Pearl came to think of it, Susan never seemed too happy when Freda was present, but she only gave it a passing thought. She was too intent on watching the street outside for a glimpse of her mother.

  By four o’clock it was pitch-dark and the girls watched the lamplighter as he made his way along the busy street. The street lights cast pools of yellow on to the snow beneath them and it sparkled like shattered diamonds, but Pearl was too miserable to notice how pretty it looked, as hopes of her mother coming for them faded with each minute that passed.

  Chapter Five

  B

  right and early the next morning found them back at work in the laundry. Neither Pearl nor Eliza’s backs had healed, and some of the wounds opened up again and started to bleed as they heaved the heavy wet washing about. Eliza in particular was struggling to keep up with the workload, and more than once Pearl saw Mrs Flanders clip her sharply about the ear. Strangely, Eliza made no complaint. It was as if she had lost all feeling, and because Pearl was unable to help her, she had never felt more useless in her life.

  By lunchtime, their hands were raw and weeping again and Susan stared at them sympathetically as they sat down to eat. ‘Me ma used to say that your own piss hardened ’em up,’ she whispered to Pearl. ‘But seein’ as we ain’t allowed piss pots under the beds, that’s no use.’

  The salve that Miss Sweet had given to Pearl while she was in the infirmary was almost gone now as she’d been sharing it with her sister, so Pearl knew they would just have to put up with it.

  ‘Try an’ eat somethin’,’ she hissed to Eliza, who sat beside her staring at the congealing food on her plate, but it was as if the child hadn’t even heard her and Pearl’s spirits sank even lower. She tried to cheer herself up, thinking that they had their lessons to look forward to at least. But the next blow came when they arrived at the schoolroom shortly after lunch to find Mrs Bates standing next to Miss Sweet waiting for them.

  ‘We’ve just realised that seeing as you’re twelve, you don’t need lessons anymore, and shouldn’t have been allowed any in the first place,’ Mrs Bates informed Pearl with a malicious grin. Miss Sweet had told her how well Pearl was doing and how much she enjoyed learning. ‘So you can go back to the laundry and get on with work.’

  Miss Sweet was wringing her hands together and Pearl could see that she wasn’t happy with the decision, but on this she had no say. Rules were rules and unfortunately children in the workhouse were only educated until they reached their twelfth birthday. It was a shame, though, the kindly teacher thought, because Pearl obviously loved learning.

  Without a word Pearl turned and left the classroom, her shoulders slumped, and within minutes her hands were once again immersed in hot, soapy water as she scrubbed at the seemingly unending pile of dirty sheets.

  Eliza returned two hours later, and she too resumed her work without even glancing in Pearl’s direction. Pearl realised that it would have been no hardship at all had it been Eliza who had been forced to miss the lessons. She had never shown the slightest interest in anything Miss Sweet had tried to teach them, but because she was only eleven she was still allowed to attend class. Pearl worried about Eliza, floating around like a spirit. Still, she decided, all she could do was be there to keep an eye out for her, and that was exactly what she intended to do.

  Slowly the days slipped into one another and the girls resigned themselves to the monotonous routine. Nothing ever seemed to change, and each day was the same as the last. There had still been no sign of their mother and each night as Pearl lay in bed she fretted about her siblings back at home. Would their ma be feeding them? Would their dad still be rolling in drunk and knocking them about? She had no way of knowing, although she doubted things would have changed, so each night she fell asleep with her cheeks damp with tears.

  On Christmas Eve, the mood in the workhouse lifted. Even Mrs Bates managed a smile or two and the girls were happy because they had been told that they would be allowed to finish work two hours early that day.

  ‘Mrs Bates says we can go into the day room an’ do as we please till supper,’ Susan hissed to Pearl as they stood side by side at the deep stone sinks in the laundry. ‘An’ after supper we ’ave some carol singers comin’ in to sing to us an’ we’ll a
ll get a ’ot mince pie.’

  Pearl turned her head to Eliza who was working on the other side of her. ‘Did you hear that?’ She smiled at her sister. ‘And no work at all tomorrow. That’s good, ain’t it?’

  But it was as if Eliza had gone deaf, for she didn’t even acknowledge that she had heard her sister speak.

  At last Mrs Flanders clapped her hands and the girls and women instantly stopped what they were doing. ‘Right, that’s it for today,’ the woman told them. ‘Work will resume at the normal time on Monday morning and make sure you’re not late!’

  Because Christmas Day fell on a Friday that year it meant that they now had three whole days off to look forward to.

  ‘I wish Christmas Day could be on a Friday every year,’ Susan said as they made their way in an orderly line to the day room. ‘We allus get Boxin’ Day off an’ all, an’ ’cause we don’t work Sundays anyway it’ll be almost like a little holiday.’

  They were pleased to see that a fire had been lit in the day room and what with that and the vases of holly that someone had placed on the mantelpiece, it looked quite festive.

  ‘This is a bit of aw’ight, ain’t it?’ Susan said appreciatively as she held her chapped hands out to the welcoming flames. ‘An’ just look frough the winder, the snow’s comin’ down fick and fast out there.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  Leaving the comfort of the fire, Pearl stepped over to the window and stared through the glass longingly. The lamplighter was ambling along lighting the gas lamps and the pavements were teeming with people intent on doing their last-minute Christmas shopping. One lady staggered past, carrying an unplucked turkey that was almost as big as she was, and once again Pearl wondered what her family would be doing. Had she been at home she would have been at the market now, waiting for them to close the stalls so she could get any bargains that were going.

  It was then that a light tap on her shoulder made her whirl about and her mouth gaped as she looked up into the lovely face of Miss Sweet.

  ‘Hello, Pearl. I stayed behind today to prepare the lessons for the children for after the holidays,’ the young woman told her. ‘But before I left, I just wanted to give you these.’

  She pressed a slate, some lengths of chalk and a small book into Pearl’s hands and told her, ‘On top of the slate I’ve written your name, look. I want you to practise writing it yourself, and in the book you will find lots of small words that you can copy and learn. Just remember to pronounce the letters of the alphabet the way I taught you and you’ll be reading and writing in no time.’

  ‘B-but, miss . . . Mrs Bates said I weren’t to have no more lessons ’cause I’m too old,’ Pearl pointed out, with a look of consternation on her face.

  Miss Sweet’s lovely smile seemed to light up the room as she gave a small tinkling laugh. ‘You’re quite right, Pearl, she did. But there’s nothing to stop you practising on a Sunday afternoon or in your spare time, is there?’

  Now it was Pearl’s turn to smile and it lit up her beautiful face. These were the most wonderful gifts she had ever received and she didn’t quite know how to express her gratitude. ‘Th-thank you,’ she managed to mutter eventually past the huge lump that had formed in her throat.

  ‘You’re more than welcome.’ Miss Sweet began to pull some soft-beige hide gloves over her slim fingers. ‘But now I really must be going. My parents are holding a party this evening and I won’t want to be late for that, will I? Merry Christmas, Pearl. Goodbye for now.’

  Pearl stood and watched her until the door closed behind her and then the happy mood was shattered when Freda, who was sitting close to the fire, said spitefully, ‘Ooh, proper little teacher’s pet, ain’t yer!’

  Holding back the sharp retort that had sprung to her lips, Pearl instead smiled sweetly, and turning away retreated to an empty table in the corner of the room to begin her first lesson.

  ‘That were nice o’ Miss Sweet to give yer them things, weren’t it?’ Susan commented as they hurried back from the freezing toilet block to their cold bedroom later that evening. They had loved listening to the carol singers and had been allowed to stay up a little later, and now they had Christmas Day to look forward to.

  ‘Yes, it was.’ Pearl had tucked them safely away beneath her few possessions in her locker earlier that evening. ‘And I’ll tell you somethin’, I shall be writin’ me name in no time, you just watch me.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Susan chuckled, but was stopped from saying any more when Mrs Bates bellowed from behind them, ‘That’s enough of that chattering. Hurry along, girls!’

  The two girls grinned at each other but did as they were told.

  They woke the following morning to an eerie grey dawn to find the ice on the inside of their windows had formed a lace-like pattern. There was also a delicious smell wafting up from downstairs.

  ‘That smells like sausage and bacon,’ Susan remarked, sniffing the air like a bloodhound.

  ‘It does,’ Pearl agreed.

  Today they could hardly wait to get down to the dining room where crisp, white cloths had been laid on the tables, and to go with the sausages and bacon were lovely fried eggs with golden-yellow yolks.

  ‘Cor, just imagine havin’ nosh like this every single day.’ Susan sighed as she sliced into a fat, juicy sausage. Instead of the weak tea they were usually given, today there were glasses of frothy milk and Susan gulped hers down in seconds.

  Then, when the meal was over, Mrs Bates stood up to announce, ‘Make your way to the chapel for the Christmas morning service, and when it is over form an orderly queue in the main foyer where our dear guardians will give you each a gift.’ She flashed a simpering smile at the well-dressed gentleman seated beside her as the girls piled out of the room.

  ‘Pity one o’ the guardians can’t be ’ere all the time,’ Susan whispered as they entered the chapel, and Pearl nodded in agreement.

  The service that day was very enjoyable and they all sang hymns and admired the little nativity scene that stood by the altar. When it was time for them to line up for their presents Susan was almost hopping with excitement. The boys had been allowed to join them today and one mischievous-looking chap with lovely dark hair gave Pearl a cheeky wink when she caught his eye and she blushed furiously. She had seen him once or twice before on Sunday in the day room and had noticed him because, like herself and Eliza, he never had any visitors.

  But then they were moving along the queue, and once they reached Mrs Bates and the gentleman guardian who had shared breakfast with them, he smiled at her and Eliza kindly.

  ‘Good morning, my dears. Sisters, are you?’ he asked, noting their matching pale-blonde hair.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Pearl bobbed her knee respectfully as she had been told to do, while Eliza clung on to her hand.

  ‘Then may I wish you both a very happy Christmas!’ He handed them a small bag each, and seconds later they were jostled along as they made for the day room where they had been told they could relax until lunchtime.

  ‘I wonder what it is?’ Susan was feeling the bag as they headed for a window seat and the second she sat down she tore her bag open to reveal a short length of red ribbon and an orange. ‘Cor, look at that!’ She ran the ribbon through her fingers with a look of wonder on her face, before telling Pearl, ‘Well go on an’ open yours then, it ain’t gonna bite yer.’

  Smiling, Pearl did as she was told, to find a length of pale-blue ribbon and an apple in hers. In Eliza’s was a ribbon in a deeper blue and a pear.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about youse but I’m eatin’ mine now afore it gets nicked,’ Susan said, peeling the skin from her orange.

  As she bit into it she sighed with a look of pure pleasure on her face. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a piece of fruit and intended to savour every single mouthful. Pearl and Eliza did the same and soon even Eliza was smiling.

  But even the rare treats couldn’t quite wipe away the disappointment as Pearl’s glance kept straying to
the window. She had been so convinced that her mother would come on this very special day but once again she had let her down and now, for the first time, she was forced to wonder if she ever would come. If she didn’t, Pearl’s fate would be the same as the three girls who had left the workhouse the week before. They were to begin lives in service in places that the workhouse had found for them, as they did for all the young people when they reached the age of fourteen. Until then she would be forced to continue slaving in the laundry.

  It was a daunting thought, and suddenly some of the pleasure went from the day and a wave of homesickness washed through her. She might not have had the best of homes, but it had been the only one she had ever known and she was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that her mother had valued her and Eliza so little that she had abandoned them here.

  Chapter Six

  ‘S

  o, expectin’ visitors today, are you?’

  Pearl had become so lost in her gloomy thoughts that she started when she realised that someone was addressing her, and she glanced up to find the dark-haired boy she had noticed earlier staring down at her.

  ‘Oh, er, no . . . I don’t think so,’ she replied, all of a fluster. ‘I was hopin’ so, but now . . .’ When her voice trailed away, the boy sat down next to her. Susan and Eliza were listening to a girl chattering away on the next table and hadn’t even noticed that he had joined them.

  ‘I ain’t got nobody comin’ either,’ he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. ‘It’s just a shame as every day ain’t like today in ’ere, ain’t it. Oh, an’ I’m Nick by the way. Nick Willis. What’s your name?’

  ‘I’m Pearl an’ that girl there is me sister, Eliza,’ Pearl told him awkwardly.

  ‘Mm, thought as much.’ He grinned, revealing a set of straight, white teeth. ‘Yer look alike, did yer know that?’

  Nick was at that curious age when he appeared to be neither boy nor man. He was tall and scrawny and his arms and legs appeared to be too long for his body. His hair was a lovely dark brown and reminded Pearl of the colour of nutmeg, but it was his eyes that caught her attention. They were a rich tawny colour that made her think of warm treacle, and he had a kind smile.