An Orphan's Journey

by Rosie Goodwin

  Pearl smiled back at him, starting to relax a little. She wasn’t used to talking to boys other than her brothers but Nick seemed nice enough and seeing as he was on his own, she didn’t really mind him joining them. No one should be on their own on Christmas Day, after all.

  ‘So have yer been here long?’ she asked timidly.

  He shrugged. ‘A good few years now. Me dad cleared off when I was a babby an’ then me ma died so I ended up ’ere, but it ain’t so bad if yer keep yer ’ead down an’ do as yer told. I shall be out o’ here anyway, when I’s fourteen. I work in the gardens out back an’ I’m hopin’ they find a place fer me on a farm out o’ the city. I’d like that. What about you? You ain’t been ’ere long, ’ave you?’

  ‘No.’ Pearl shook her head. ‘Just a short while.’

  He studied her intently for a moment before asking, ‘So why are you ’ere then? Parents die, did they? Or were yer livin’ on the streets?’

  Pearl felt her cheeks begin to glow, but luckily she was saved from having to answer when Susan spotted him and grinned.

  ‘All right then are yer, Nick?’ She had clearly met him before.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine, Susan.’ Then by way of explanation he told Pearl, ‘Me an’ Susan used to live close to each other before we come in ’ere.’

  ‘Oh!’ Pearl was mildly surprised. Susan had given her the impression that she came from a very well-off area, but she didn’t have time to ask questions because Mrs Bates appeared in the doorway then with yet another group of carol singers who had come to entertain them until lunchtime, and soon those that knew them were singing along to well-loved carols. Even Eliza seemed to be coming out of her shell a little and Pearl was thrilled to see her little sister looking more like her old self.

  The rest of the day passed in a pleasant blur, and when they tucked into bed that evening their bellies were comfortably full and they were all in a good mood.

  ‘Cor that turkey we ’ad at dinner time were luvly, weren’t it?’ Susan gave a contented sigh. ‘If only we didn’t ’ave to work in that bleedin’ laundry it wouldn’t be so bad livin’ ’ere.’

  Murmurs of agreement rippled through the other girls until Freda piped up, ‘Ooh! ’Ark at Lady Susan. She thinks she should live in a posh ’otel.’

  ‘Shut up, yer spiteful bitch!’ Susan retaliated, her good mood gone. ‘Trust you to go an’ try an’ spoil everyfin’!’

  ‘What’s all this noise in here?’ Light spilled into the room as Mrs Bates appeared in the doorway with an oil lamp in her hand. ‘Settle down now, girls. Christmas Day or not, it’s past lights out, so I don’t want to hear another peep out of you.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Bates,’ the girls chorused, and as the door closed behind her they were left in darkness once more.

  ‘She soon got back to ’er old self once the guardians were gone, didn’t she?’ Susan hissed but then silence fell. Soon there was nothing but the sounds of snores to be heard.

  One cold, foggy Sunday afternoon early in January, as they all sat in the day room, Nick came to join them. He often sat with them now but today he seemed excited about something and they soon discovered what it was.

  ‘Mr Fellows, our housemaster, came to see us yesterday,’ he confided. ‘An’ he told me an’ some o’ the other lads that it looks like they’re goin’ to be shippin’ another lot o’ young ’uns abroad in the spring.’

  Pearl instantly thought back to what her mother had told her about the possibility of having a new life in the sunshine, and her ears pricked up.

  ‘So – what’s it all about then?’

  ‘Well, apparently this woman called Annie MacPherson started this scheme goin’. It’s mainly kids from the Dr Barnardo’s homes that get chosen to go but sometimes if there’s room left on the ships they’ll take a few from other orphanages an’ the work’ouse. My mate got chosen last year an’ I were hoping to go an’ all but I never got chosen.’

  ‘So where exactly do they go?’ Pearl asked with interest.

  Nick shrugged. ‘All over the place, from what I’ve heard of it. Some go to Australia, some to New Zealand an’ some to Canada. They go to live wi’ the settlers there who take ’em on as workers.’

  ‘Sod that!’ Susan piped up. ‘If that’s the case we’d be as bad burned as scolded. It just means yer swappin’ one place o’ work fer another, surely?’

  ‘Ah, but the difference is yer livin’ in sunnier places an’ I bet we’d get more freedom than we’d get here,’ Nick answered. ‘Anyway, you lot will probably be told about it soon an’ all. Last year they took four girls an’ four boys from here, all about round our age, so there’s a chance fer all of us.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t go if they picked me an’ they didn’t pick Eliza too,’ Pearl said heatedly as she glanced at her little sister.

  Nick chuckled. ‘Well, we’ll just have to wait an’ see, won’t we?’

  They went on to chat of other things and the subject was dropped.

  Two weeks later, the girls were woken one morning to be told by Mrs Bates, ‘We have six children in the sick bay with measles. If any of you feel unwell you are to tell me or a member of staff immediately. We don’t want this to turn into an epidemic. It’s really most inconvenient!’

  ‘Silly cow,’ Susan mumbled when she left the room leaving them to get dressed. ‘As if anybody would choose to be bad, especially wi’ measles. It can be a killer, can’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it can.’ Pearl nodded as she pulled the drab brown dress over her head. She could remember all too clearly how the disease had killed a whole family of children in the terrace of houses where she had lived with her parents.

  Later in the morning when they were hard at work in the laundry, she noticed that Eliza looked flushed. Initially she wasn’t too worried; it was no wonder, really, when they were labouring over sinks full of steaming water. Even so, she kept a wary eye on her and when they finally broke for lunch, she knew that something wasn’t right. Eliza’s eyes looked unusually bright and she seemed to be even slower than she usually was.

  ‘Do you feel all right?’ she asked with concern as they made their way to the dining room.

  Eliza shrugged. ‘Just a bit tired, that’s all.’

  ‘Hm!’ Pearl wasn’t convinced so she watched her carefully for the rest of the day and was glad when they could retire to bed. Perhaps Eliza was just a bit under the weather and a good night’s sleep would cure her.

  But the next morning her worst fears were realised when she glanced towards her sister’s bed to see an ugly red rash across her face. Still in her nightdress, she flew out on to the landing and shouted in a panic, ‘Mrs Bates, come quick. I think our Eliza’s got the measles.’

  ‘Oh, not another one,’ the woman groaned as she appeared from a small office at the end of the landing. Already the infirmary was full and during the night the first of the patients had succumbed to the illness and passed away. ‘Right, let’s get her out of there,’ she told Pearl, with no hint of sympathy. ‘The younger ones are coming down with it left, right and centre!’ She allowed Pearl to bring Eliza out on to the landing, but then told her harshly to go back and get changed and carry on as normal as she led Eliza away to the sick bay. Pearl was beside herself with fear. Eliza was burning up with fever and so weak that she could hardly walk and Pearl didn’t need a doctor to tell her that she was very seriously ill.

  ‘She ain’t that strong, I don’t know if she’ll be able to come through this,’ she confided to Susan as they made their way down to the morning service in the chapel. ‘And I’m not even allowed to go and see her. She’ll be so frightened surrounded by people she don’t know!’

  ‘She’s stronger than yer think,’ Susan told her comfortingly as she squeezed her hand. ‘She’ll be outta there in no time, you’ll see.’

  Word filtered through to the laundry later that day that yet another inmate had died that morning and shortly after, they saw the staff and the vicar following a small coffin as they made thei
r way towards the burial ground at the back of the house.

  ‘Poor sod, whoever it were,’ Susan muttered, but then Mrs Flanders bore down on them and they had to concentrate on their work.

  When they finally got to their dormitory that evening it was to find two more empty beds. Another two girls had joined Eliza in the infirmary.

  ‘Lord, they’re droppin’ like flies,’ Susan said in her usual forthright way. ‘There won’t be room in the infirmary for all of ’em if it carries on like this.’

  Pearl spent a sleepless night fretting about her sister and the second Mrs Bates entered the room the next morning to wake them she asked her, ‘Have you heard how Eliza is doing, Mrs Bates?’

  Mrs Bates glared at her. ‘Do you really think I have time to keep running to and fro to the infirmary to check on one girl?’ she spat nastily. ‘Now get dressed, those of you that are still able will have to work extra hard to cover for those who are ill, so get to it!’

  ‘Miserable old cow!’ Susan said the second she left. ‘It would serve ’er right if she come down wi’ it; she might be a bit more sympathetic then.’

  Sick with worry, Pearl could only nod in agreement.

  During the following week, all lessons were called off for the younger children and no one was allowed in or out of the building as the staff fought to contain the disease within the workhouse. As things went from bad to worse, even the tradespeople who delivered the food were told to simply ring the bell and leave it on the steps. One of the dormitories in the boys’ section eventually had to be cleared of those who were lucky enough not to have come down with the illness and turned into a temporary sick bay to accommodate those infected. But still Pearl had heard nothing of how Eliza was faring, or even if she was still alive.

  Each morning at the early service in the chapel, the healthy girls would stare at the empty seats and wonder who would be next to go missing, praying hard for their friends and themselves. Although they hadn’t been told, they were aware that many of the younger and older people had died by the number of cheap coffins that seemed to be arriving daily from the local undertaker. And then they were forbidden from even walking around the yard for the short time they had previously been allowed each day to get a breath of fresh air. That was no hardship, as although the snow had thawed it had been replaced by a thick, freezing fog.

  ‘I feel like a bleedin’ prisoner. This place is gettin’ to be more like a prison than a work’ouse,’ Susan complained.

  Pearl nodded in agreement, although if truth be told she would have had no desire to escape even if the opportunity arose, not without Eliza.

  Then suddenly, one morning during the first week in February, Eliza suddenly walked into the laundry as if she had never been away and tears of relief stung at the back of Pearl’s eyes. Her first instinct was to fly to her sister and give her a big hug, but she knew that would only get her into trouble with Mrs Flanders so she simply continued with her work, although she couldn’t prevent herself from continually glancing towards her sister. She had been thin before her illness but now she was almost skeletal and looked as if one good puff of wind would blow her away.

  It was lunchtime before Pearl had the chance to speak to Eliza and at the first opportunity, she caught her in her arms and gave her a big kiss.

  ‘How are you feeling? You’ve lost a lot of weight. Are you sure you’re well enough to come straight back to work?’ The questions poured out of her as Eliza stood quietly.

  She shrugged. ‘I’s all right,’ was all she said, and with that Pearl had to be content as she silently thanked God for sparing her. It seemed He had listened to her prayers after all.

  Chapter Seven

  I

  t was four weeks later, early in March, and things had returned to relative normality, with many of the girls coming back to work safe and well again, when Pearl, Eliza and two of the other girls were called into the day room. As their names were called out, they glanced at each other fearfully, wondering what they had done wrong, before following Mrs Bates into the office where a well-dressed gentleman with steel-grey hair was waiting to speak to them. He was almost as far round as he was high, and wore a smart suit with a brightly embroidered waistcoat. As they filed in, he eyed each of them from beneath thick, bushy eyebrows that seemed to have a life of their own.

  ‘So, young ladies,’ he began when they were all seated. ‘I am here to speak to you today about an opportunity that has arisen for the four of you to travel to climates new. There will also be four boys of similar ages to yourselves given the same opportunity. Mrs Bates here has kindly given me the names of the four she feels would be the most suitable to go, so you four are’ – he lifted a sheet of paper and cleared his throat before continuing importantly – ‘Freda Swift.’ Freda’s face was a picture of delight as she clasped her hands together. ‘Susan Harper, and Pearl and Eliza Parker.’

  Susan and Pearl stared at each other as if they could hardly believe their ears. Were they really being selected to go?

  ‘Now, girls, you are being offered a golden opportunity to go and live in the New World. How do you feel about it?’

  Eliza merely stared at the floor, while Susan and Freda nodded enthusiastically. Only Pearl looked troubled.

  ‘Would we be allowed to come back ’ome if we didn’t like it there? An’ where exactly would we be goin’?’ she asked tentatively.

  Swallowing his annoyance, the man stared at her. Usually the children that were selected were so grateful that they fawned over him, but here was this impudent young pup daring to question him! ‘In answer to your first question, my dear, I doubt very much whether you ever would wish to return here. And as for the second question – you will be going to live in Canada. You should think yourself very lucky that you are being given such a golden opportunity.’ Now that the four girls stood before him, he could see why Mrs Bates had put their names forward. The girl he was speaking to was a cripple, her sister was clearly away with the fairies and the other two . . . well, they were so scrawny he doubted very much if they could work particularly hard. No doubt Mrs Bates simply wanted shot of them, but then that wasn’t his concern. His job was to fill the berths on the ship and, truthfully, he didn’t much care who filled them.

  ‘But what about our ma an’ our family?’ Pearl dared to ask, and now she could see that he was annoyed.

  ‘I doubt very much they will miss you,’ he said in a clipped voice. ‘Otherwise why would they have put you in here? No, I’m sure they will raise no objections to you going so I advise you to seize this chance of a lifetime with both hands. And now I really must be getting on. I have to meet the four boys who have also been selected to go and tell them the good news. I shall be back to give you all instructions as to when exactly you will be leaving and what you will require to take with you closer to the time. Good day.’

  He picked up a rather grand hat and with a little bow in the girls’ direction, he waddled from the room.

  ‘Phew, well whadda yer make o’ that then?’ Susan whooped when Mrs Bates had shown him out. ‘Canada, eh! I can ’ardly believe it!’

  ‘But what about your ma? What if she gets better an’ wants you back ’ome?’ Pearl asked.

  Freda laughed, an ugly sound that made Susan’s pale cheeks burn. ‘Want her back? There ain’t much chance o’ that ’appening, is there, Susan?’

  Susan’s hands had clenched into fists of rage. ‘Shut yer dirty bloody mouth.’

  But Freda had no intention of being silenced. ‘Her ma is too busy entertainin’ any bloke who can afford to pay ’er. She’s a drunken whore! Ain’t that right, Susan? That’s why she got rid of yer in ’ere. She didn’t want yer in the way!’

  Angry tears had sprung to Susan’s eyes, but as she made towards Freda the door opened and Mrs Bates entered the room again.

  ‘What’s going on in here, then?’ She had expected to find the girls in good spirits but instead she felt as if she had walked into a war zone. She tutted. ‘You ungrate
ful girls. Get back to work, all of you. Hopefully you will be leaving sometime in April, so just try to behave yourselves until then. Go on, be off with you!’

  Head down, Susan stormed past her followed by Pearl and Eliza, who were very quiet, and Freda, who had a smug grin on her face.

  It wasn’t until they were in the dining hall that evening that they could talk again. ‘Pay no heed to Freda. We all know how spiteful she can be. We didn’t believe what she said about yer ma, honest!’ Pearl whispered sympathetically.

  Susan, who was usually the first to finish her meal, hung her head and pushed the food about her plate. It wasn’t very appetising that night anyway: lumpy mashed potatoes and gristly gammon that was difficult to chew.

  ‘Sh-she ain’t as bad as Freda said,’ she muttered.

  Reaching beneath the table, Pearl found her hand and squeezed it. ‘It wouldn’t matter if she were,’ she told her kindly. ‘She’s still yer ma an’ you’ll love her no matter what.’

  ‘That’s the trouble . . . I do.’

  They fell silent then but none of them really enjoyed their meal that evening and Pearl was glad when it was time to go to bed. She had a lot to think about. Eliza hadn’t said a word about going to Canada, but then Pearl realised that she probably hadn’t understood what the man was telling them.

  As she lay in the darkness, tears trickled down her cheeks. Deep down she knew that what the gentleman had told them was the truth. If her mother had truly loved her and Eliza, she would never have abandoned them the way she had. She could quite easily have come to visit them but she hadn’t even bothered to do that, which told its own story. For the first time Pearl wondered if going to Canada wouldn’t be so bad after all, for surely it couldn’t be any worse there than it was living here in the workhouse? Admittedly she had grown accustomed to the back-breaking work in the laundry, and her hands had hardened and calloused so they no longer pained her as they had when she had first arrived, but they were still well used to feeling the flick of Mrs Flanders’s cane whenever they did the least thing wrong. She lay trying to imagine a land full of sunshine, until finally she slept.