At last, after taking a few wrong turns, she found herself outside the laundry. The windows were so steamed up that it was impossible to see through them and she suddenly remembered the little Chinese girl who had helped her a few days before and she hoped that this might be the one that the girl had said she worked in.
After taking a deep breath she squared her shoulders and rang the bell on the door. Seconds later it was opened by a small Chinese woman with grey hair and oval eyes which squinted at her suspiciously.
‘We no want to buy anyt’ing,’ she said waspishly and Flora was relieved that the woman spoke English. That was something at least.
‘I’m not selling anything,’ Flora assured her as the woman looked at the state of her face and scowled. ‘I’m actually looking for a job and wondered if you might have any vacancies?’
‘A job? You wish to work in de laundry? Come in, come in.’ As the woman opened the door a little wider Flora stepped inside. Instantly the heavy steam almost enveloped her and she broke out in a sweat. Everywhere she looked there were great steaming coppers and deep stone sinks with young girls hanging over them scrubbing at sheets, and the heat was almost unbearable.
‘We launder sheets mainly,’ the woman told her, spreading her hands. ‘From hospitals and hotels. In here they are washed and then taken t’rough there to be put t’rough the mangles and dried.’ She gestured towards a door. ‘You t’ink you can do this work?’
‘Oh yes,’ Flora assured her hastily. ‘I was a laundry maid back in England for a time.’
The woman still didn’t seem convinced. ‘We work from six in the morning until seven at night every day but Sunday. You off ill and you not come to work you not get paid, you understand?’
‘Perfectly,’ Flora said. The woman then mentioned a wage which was ridiculously low for the hours she would be working but she supposed that beggars couldn’t be choosers and it would do until something better came up.
‘You agree to t’ese?’
Flora nodded a little too vigorously causing her swollen eyelid to throb. ‘Yes,’ she squeaked and, apparently satisfied, the woman asked, ‘You start straight away? We have order to get out.’
‘Yes.’ Flora supposed she may as well work as wander about the streets.
‘And have you somewhere to stay?’
Flora’s sigh was her answer and the woman sniffed. ‘There also I may help you. Many girls rent rooms from me. Rent is taken from wages. Two or three girls in each room and kitchen to share. You want this?’
Heartened, Flora nodded again. Anything was better than nothing and at least she would have somewhere to lay her head.
‘Good … come. But I warn, this a trial. You no good – you out!’
Flora followed the tiny woman into the back room which was as hot and uncomfortable as the first room, and approaching a young, flame-haired girl who was in the process of putting a sheet through an enormous mangle, the woman barked, ‘Mahoney, this girl share your room. She start work immediately so show her what to do then take her back to your room wit’ you after.’
‘Yes, Mrs Yung,’ the girl said subserviently, and without another word the woman turned and strode away. She might be tiny in stature but she’s certainly strong in spirit, Flora thought.
Once Mrs Yung had gone the girl, who Flora noticed had eyes the colour of emeralds, smiled at Flora and told her, ‘I’m Colleen.’
‘Flora.’ She held her hand out but saw immediately that the girl’s eyes strayed to Mrs Yung and that she didn’t dare stop what she was doing.
‘I’ll show you how to go on an’ then we’ll talk tonight, so we will,’ the girl told her in a strong Irish accent and with a nod Flora rolled her sleeves up and set to work. She really didn’t have much choice.
Chapter Nineteen
By the time seven o’clock rolled around that evening Flora was so exhausted that she could barely stand. Her face was throbbing painfully and her hands were so sore that she didn’t know what to do with them. Every item of clothing she wore was sticking to her with sweat and she wondered how she was going to bear it. Mrs Yung was a hard taskmaster who would not allow any of her staff to slack for a minute and Flora was forced to question if she had been right to run away. Surely anything that Alex could have done to her when she discovered the truth would have been better than this?
Seeing her exhaustion, Colleen smiled at her reassuringly. ‘It does get easier,’ she promised, taking Flora’s hand and leading her to the door. ‘I remember my first day, so I do. I was so tired I didn’t know if I could ever come back and face another day here, but needs must. Come on, I’ll get you back to our room now. Our other roommate will no doubt already be cooking for us, so she will.’
They stepped outside and the cool air after the heat in the laundry hit Flora like a smack in the face and she felt dizzy. Even so she tried to keep up with Colleen as she strode purposefully along. The girl was tiny and yet Flora had noted that the amount of work she had got through that day would have done justice to someone twice her size.
Once again Flora entered the gloomy alleys and her heart began to pound with fear as she thought back to the night before but Colleen seemed confident enough.
‘Nearly there now,’ she told her encouragingly. ‘But don’t be expectin’ too much, mind. Mrs Yung doesn’t provide the best workin’ nor livin’ environment but ’tis better than sleepin’ on the streets, to be sure.’
As Flora eyed the dismal houses they were passing she could well believe it and she began to shiver as she thought back to what had almost happened to her the night before. It seemed that all the nationalities of the world were gathered in these back alleys and they eyed her suspiciously as she and Colleen moved on.
Eventually Colleen stopped in front of a tiny, terraced house and opened the front door. They stepped into a narrow hallway and a multitude of smells assaulted them: curry, boiled cabbage, stale urine and other smells that Flora didn’t dare to try and imagine what they might be. The walls were running with damp and ahead of them a steep, narrow, wooden staircase rose up to the first floor. A number of dull-eyed children were playing with some glass marbles on the floor and Flora’s heart ached for them as she saw how thin and lethargic they looked – as if they hadn’t had a decent meal for weeks. The clothes they wore were little more than rags and were so faded that it was difficult to distinguish what colour they might once have been.
Colleen beckoned Flora to follow her up the stairs. A baby was wailing loudly somewhere and as they reached the first floor landing they were just in time to see a thick tail and a pair of red eyes disappear into a hole in the skirting board.
‘Ugh, was that a rat?’ Flora squeaked and Colleen giggled.
‘It was so, but don’t be worryin’, he’s more afraid o’ you than you are of him, so he is.’ They climbed up yet another flight of stairs and at the top Colleen took a key from her pocket and unlocked a door.
‘Well, this is it,’ she announced as they stepped into a small, musty-smelling room. ‘It might not be much but it’s home for now.’
Flora stared about in disbelief. A number of straw mattresses were scattered along one wall with blankets neatly folded at the end of them and by the only cracked window was a small table with two mismatched chairs, one of which was leaning drunkenly to one side. A pair of faded curtains hung at the window and there was an old washstand with a chipped jug and ewer standing on it. The only other furniture the room boasted was two battered chests of drawers, but what did strike her was that although the room was dismal, Colleen and her roommate had done their best to make it as clean as they possibly could. The bare floorboards had been scrubbed and she was heartened to see a small fire glowing in a tiny fireplace.
‘Ah, my roommate is back,’ Colleen commented when she saw the fire. ‘She’ll be downstairs in the kitchen cooking a meal, no doubt. We take it in turns,’ she explained and the words had barely left her lips when the door opened and Flora blinked in surprise when the prett
y Chinese girl who had helped her when she got lost was standing there.
‘It’s Jia Li, isn’t it?’ Flora croaked and with a wide smile the girl carried a heavy pot to the table and placed it down before nodding.
Colleen looked surprised. ‘So, do you two know each other?’
Flora nodded. ‘We met once when I lost my way and Jia Li was kind enough to give me directions.’
‘How do you do, missy.’ Jia Li again placed her hands together and gave the curious little bow that Flora remembered. ‘It is nice to meet again … but what are you doing here?’
Flora’s face became solemn. ‘It’s a long story but perhaps I’ll tell you one day.’
‘Well, whatever it is it won’t be good.’ Colleen shook her head sadly as she approached the pot Jia Li had carried in and lifted the lid, sniffing appreciatively. ‘None of us end up here if we have anywhere better to go, but never mind that for now. Jia Li makes the most wonderful curries you’ll ever eat. Come on, let’s have it while it’s still nice and hot.’ She crossed to some shelves that Flora hadn’t noticed before where a selection of mismatched pots and pans were placed and lifted down three chipped dishes which she proceeded to fill. Then, handing round some spoons, they all sat down on the mattresses and began to eat. Just as Colleen had said, the curry was like nothing Flora had ever tried before and was quite delicious.
‘We share the kitchen downstairs with the other residents for making our main meals,’ Colleen informed her. ‘But we have a kettle up here so we can make tea and coffee in our room. We have a toasting fork as well, so sometimes we make our own toast too.’ She smiled at Jia Li then and Flora saw that the two girls were close.
‘And how do you er … have a bath?’ Flora asked.
Both the girls chuckled. ‘There’s a tin bath hanging on the wall outside so once a week we cart it up here between us and boil kettles to fill it, usually on a Sunday. We’re too tired to be bothered on the days we work so we just make do with a good wash down, but we get by one way or another.’
‘And how long have you both shared a room for?’ Flora questioned curiously.
Colleen shrugged. ‘Oh, for a few months now. Mrs Yung doesn’t tend to keep staff for long so the workers come and go.’
If what she had seen of the woman that day was anything to go by Flora could well understand why no one ever stayed long. She was like a mini sergeant major barking out orders with never a word of praise. Flora had even seen her cuff one young girl round the ear earlier in the day because the poor little thing had slipped on the wet floor and dropped a basket of freshly washed sheets.
‘I can quite understand why no one stays,’ Flora commented, at which both girls giggled.
‘Huh! If you t’ink she’s bad just wait until you meet her son!’ Colleen whistled through her teeth and frowned. ‘He’s a real tyrant! He t’inks because we all work for his mother that he has licence to do what he wants with us, so he does! He’s started hassling Jia Li, here, and I’ve heard whispers that more than one lass has been sent packing without a penny piece with his baby growing in her belly, yet his mother won’t hear a word said against him. She worships the very ground he walks on, so she does, so beware if you meet him and try to keep out of his way. His name is Huan.’
‘I’ll remember that,’ Flora said, horrified, and they all fell silent as they enjoyed the rest of their meal. When it was done, Jia Li carried the pots down to the kitchen to wash them and returned with a jug of cold water from the tap in the yard.
‘It is to bathe your face,’ she told Flora gently. ‘It must be very sore, yes?’
‘It is rather,’ Flora admitted as she tentatively raised her hand to touch her swollen face.
Jia Li gently began to bathe it for her and Flora had to grit her teeth to stop herself crying out.
‘Who do this to you?’ the Chinese girl questioned softly and instantly tears began to spill down Flora’s cheeks. She had intended to keep what had happened to herself but somehow, she sensed that she could trust the two girls, so it all came pouring out.
‘I did something unforgivable,’ she told them in a wobbly voice. ‘It started on the night the Titanic went down. I was travelling here with my young mistress but …’ By the time she had finished the sorry tale she was drained.
‘So, you see … I deserve what happened to me last night, I’m a very bad person,’ she ended.
Colleen and Jia Li shook their heads in unison.
‘No, you’re not bad,’ Colleen soothed. ‘You were about to arrive in a strange country and you were scared, so you did what you had to to survive.’
Jia Li nodded in agreement. ‘Yes, everyone knows of the disaster on the Titanic. It must have been … how do you say … trum … traumatic?’
‘It was.’ Flora closed her good eye and again in her head she could hear the screams of the poor souls in the icy water and see Connie pitching to her death. ‘But what about you two? What brought you to this?’
Jia Li and Colleen glanced at each other but it was Jia Li who spoke first.
‘I came here some long months ago aboard a cargo ship from my home town in China. My father, he a very rich man, he a banker. As child I was very spoiled but then my father, he arrange a marriage for me but …’ She paused here and took a deep breath. ‘The man he wish me to marry is very old and rich but I not love him. I love Bai, but he only a poor chef and my father forbade me to see him. And so just days before my wedding, Bai arrange a place on a ship coming here for me, and soon he will join me. Until then I have to work for Mrs Yung to live for I ran away with nothing but what I stood up in.’
‘How very sad.’
‘And what about you?’ Flora looked at Colleen now and the girl lowered her eyes and shrugged.
‘Oh, my story is about as opposite to Jia Li’s as you could get,’ she said quietly. ‘Back in Ireland I was one of fourteen children, though not all of them survived. We lived on a little smallholding just outside of Kilkenny, packed in like sardines, we were, in the farmhouse, but the fields and the countryside are glorious. We had pigs and sheep, as well as a cow for milk and hens for fresh eggs but me mammy was downtrodden, God love her, and me daddy was a boozer. Many the day we had not a crust on the table but me daddy never went without his ale. Then as the girls reached a certain age he decided that they could earn their keep on the streets, if you get me drift? Some of them agreed, some of them did a runner, so they did, and then it came to my turn and I couldn’t stand the thought of it, so much like Jia Li I sneaked aboard a boat and ended up here, and though it’s not much of a life, sure it’s better than the one I had, so it is. At least I don’t have to lie awake now waitin’ for me daddy to come in drunk an’ use one or another of us as a punchbag.’
Flora’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed at them silently. They had been through so much in different ways and she felt ashamed.
‘But what about you?’ Colleen asked then. ‘Will you be going back to London?’
Flora sighed. ‘How can I now? I’ve no doubt Alex will inform my parents of what I’ve done and though they’ll be relieved to know I’m alive after all, they’ll be so ashamed of me. I don’t think I can ever face them again now. Sometimes I even wish it had been me that had died instead of Connie …’
‘That’s a terrible t’ing to say,’ Colleen scolded while Jai Li looked on with her beautiful dark eyes. ‘Sure, life is precious an’ to be lived an’ though we may not have much at the minute there’s many worse off than us, so there are. An’ I wouldn’t mind bettin’ that your mammy an’ daddy would be thrilled to have you home, no matter what you’ve done.’
‘Well, we’ll see.’ Flora wiped her nose on the sleeve of her dress. ‘But it won’t be for a while. I need to save enough up for the fare for a start off, even if I do ever decide to go home.’
The three girls stared at each other silently for a moment and Flora felt a little comfort for the first time since the Titanic had sunk. At least with these two girls there were
no lies between them and she would no longer have to watch every single word she said. They had bared their souls to each other and she had the feeling that they would become good friends.
Chapter Twenty
‘Come on, sleepyhead, it’s time to be gettin’ up, so it is.’
Flora groaned as Colleen gently shook her arm. The straw mattress she had slept on was prickly and she’d spent half the night scratching before eventually managing to drift off to sleep. Jia Li had boiled the kettle over the low fire and made them all a pot of tea and now she carried a mug over to Flora with a wide grin on her face.
‘You not sleep well,’ she stated matter-of-factly, and before Flora could answer she went on with a twinkle in her eye, ‘You talk in your sleep of someone called Jamie. He is your boyfriend, yes?’
‘He was.’ Flora pulled herself up into a sitting position and took the mug of tea gratefully. It was very weak but better than nothing. ‘I was seeing him before I agreed to go to New York with Connie. He didn’t want me to go and we argued and …’
‘Ah! I see. You part on bad terms, yes?’
Flora nodded miserably. ‘Yes, I don’t think I realised how much he meant to me till I was on the way to New York and it was too late by then.’
‘But it’s never too late to put things right if you love someone,’ Colleen said practically, then jumping up she urged, ‘But hurry with that tea now, woudya? Sure, Mrs Yung will have us workin’ all night if we’re late.’
Flora did as she was told but all she had time to do was borrow Jia Li’s hairbrush, tug it through her hair and have a quick swill in the cold water in the bowl before they set off. The rest of the day passed much the same as the one before and by home time, Flora was once again exhausted and depressed as she thought of doing this day after day, yet Jia Li and Colleen seemed cheerful enough.
Flora was beginning to thoroughly dislike Mrs Yung, for her small size was deceptive and she was a bully. Each sheet that arrived at the laundry had to be boiled and scrubbed till it was as white as snow before being taken to the next room where it would be rinsed and fed through the huge mangles. Mrs Yung checked each one and it was woe betide anyone who left so much as a tiny stain on one. Flora had witnessed her shouting at one small girl who looked to be no older than twelve or thirteen until she had reduced the poor little mite to tears. She had then smacked her hard about her ear and told her that she must stay behind for an extra hour that night because of one tiny, pea-sized stain that the girl had missed.
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