Workhouse Waif

by Elizabeth Keysian

  Henry shoved at him roughly, his face twisted with anger and fear. Then he took a step down, but at that moment, Neville woke up fully, and pulled back sharply, spinning Henry of balance. He missed the step, and before Jack could grab him, the two men crashed down onto the stairs. There was a splintering sound as someone’s head hit the bannisters, and then a thud, followed by another, as the inexorable rolling began, a thumping, gut-wrenching drop from step to step, arms flailing, legs kicking as they picked up speed, finally to land with a thump at the bottom, where a billow of smoke hid them from view.

  Jack hung at the top of the stairs, arm thrown across his mouth, half-gagging at the thought of the tangled bodies below, half-choking from the acrid fumes. Suddenly a large, dark shape hurled itself towards the foot of the stairs from the hallway.

  A rescuer, he hoped. If it wasn’t too late… but there was no time to mind that now. He spun around, seized a marble bust—which was the heaviest thing he could see—and chased to the end of the corridor in search of Bella.

  Chapter 73

  Bella had collapsed against her bedroom door. Her face was stuck to the paint-work with tears of frustration, her hands and fingers hurt from the knocking and clawing, but no one had come to her aid—no one. Images of the punishment closet in the workhouse flashed into her mind, and there she was, an unloved little girl again, always getting into scrapes that she’d never meant.

  There was a sudden eruption of sound from outside. Dimly she could hear the dinner gong being beaten, and soon there was a response of opening doors and shouted enquiries. Then there were feet running, and she thought she heard a scream. Rousing herself from her stupor, she began pounding on the door again with her good hand and yelling. But she was at the end of the corridor—no one was going past her room. Her voice caught in her throat, and she had to wait for the bout of coughing to pass. Then she knelt lower, her head near the floor, and her face went ashen.

  Smoke!

  There was no time to call out again for help that wouldn’t come. She must keep a cool head, think, act quickly, to save herself. What advice used she to give the schoolchildren about fire? What had been the plan for dealing with fire in the factory?

  Leaping up, and wincing with pain because her legs were nearly numb, she chased across to the window. She could pull up the sash and climb out onto the narrow decorative parapet below the windowsill, but from there it was a long drop to the ground, and there was no soft landing on the carefully-raked gravel below.

  If she couldn’t jump down, she must climb. She attacked the bed like someone demented as she flung herself in amongst the covers and wrenched them off. All the time, the pain in her wrist was threatening to overwhelm her. But she gritted her teeth against it. She couldn’t give in now.

  Using one hand, her teeth and her stockinged feet, she knotted the sheets together from corner to corner, then added the bedspread. Next, she climbed on a chair and pulled the curtains down, knotting them in too until she reckoned she had enough length to climb to the ground.

  “My lord, I hope I can do this,” she muttered between clenched lips. “I hope I haven’t got too soft.”

  The bed was the heaviest, most stable thing in the room. She tied one end of her makeshift rope around its leg, then pulled the sheets out to their full length and peered over the edge of the parapet. Too far to drop still—she needed to get the bed closer to the window, preferably wedged against it so it would take her weight.

  She heaved and pulled at it with her good hand, then got in behind the headboard, wedged her back against the wall and pushed with her feet.

  “Oh, God, save me! It’s too heavy!” She was panting and crying and coughing now, all at the same time. Staring around wildly, she looked for something to make a longer rope. The coughing was getting worse, and her eyes were streaming. There was smoke coming under the door.

  “Oh, God, oh, God!” She threw the bolster at the door and tried to shove it against the gap underneath where the smoke was coming from, but at that moment there was a splintering sound, and she fell back out of the way as the panels of the door stove in and something white and shiny, a marble bust, came through. Then a man was beating at the rest of the panels and climbing through to her.

  “Jack! Thank heavens, Jack!”

  He threw his arm around her shoulders and held her close for a few heartbeats. Then he looked behind him, where a black, evil-smelling smoke was coming into the room. “I don’t want to go back that way if I can help it,” he spluttered. “There’s more smoke coming up the servants’ stairs.”

  Then he saw what she’d been doing, and while she explained to him what had happened, what Henry had done, Jack was reeling her rope in, and checking the knots. Then he eased her away, pressed a brief kiss on her lips, and heaved the bed right across the floor to the window.

  “Jack, your poor face. It’s all scratched.”

  “I had a run-in with Henry. Which wrist did that bastard break?”

  When she pointed, he picked her up and made her put her good arm around his neck.

  “But—”

  “You can’t climb down that rope with one arm.” He looked over the sill.

  “But the weight—” She couldn’t say any more then, and nor could he, because they were both coughing too much. He wrapped the rope tightly around his waist, then he stepped out over the parapet and together they began the most terrifying ordeal of their lives.

  Chapter 74

  Jack had never prayed so hard in his life, as he did while descending the wall of Linden Hall using that awkward, lumpy life-line. After a million lifetimes, a million nightmares, his feet scraped gravel, and he was able to let go.

  There was no time to hold, to caress, to cherish Bella. It wasn’t safe to be near the roaring, splintering house as the flames bit deep into its fabric and heat radiated from its walls. Coughing and retching, he grasped Bella’s elbow and hurried her around the side of the house.

  A large group of people stood at the front, a safe distance away. The men with buckets had given up—only the engine would have any success now. The reflection from the flames stained the watchers’ faces blood-red, like souls in Hell.

  Jack sucked in lungfuls of fresh air, his arm sliding around Bella’s waist. She was cradling her bad wrist with her good arm, but he forbore to curse her brother. It looked as if the man was already damned since neither he nor Neville was anywhere to be seen.

  Bella’s mother, fortunately, had made it out. But she was running to-and-fro across the front of the building, wringing her hands. Unlike the other survivors, she was fully dressed. He lurched forward, bringing Bella with him, and caught her arm. “It’s alright. She’s safe—she’s here.”

  “Isabella, ah, Bella!” Sarah flung her arms around her daughter, then turned a tear-stained face to Jack. “He’s in there still—he went in to get Bella for me. Oh, God, oh, God, it’s been ages!”

  “Who’s in there? Who went to get Bella?” Jack gripped her shoulders as he saw her face crumple.

  “Peter!” she choked.

  He stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Peter? Mr Hart’s Peter, the butcher’s assistant?”

  “Yes, yes! I went to fetch Pa when Bella was locked up, but Peter came instead, and now he’s gone.” Sarah started crying and muttering to herself. Jack, sensing the mounting hysteria, shook her by the shoulders until she was looking dumbly up at him.

  “I need you to do something for me. Now, listen. Find out if anyone’s missing. You know who should have been in the house. Talk to the servants, see if everyone’s here. You must do that for me, it’s important. Understand?”

  Sarah gave a ragged nod and stumbled away.

  Jack and Bella joined the group staring aghast as fire billowed through the great building. All the glass had shattered or melted, and great gouts of flame roared through the windows. A pall of black smoke had obscured the face of the moon, and the flames had taken root in the roof now—from the ground they could hear the timbers cra
cking and spitting. Henry’s guests—huddled in a sorry group by themselves—looked sick.

  Bella whispered, “I don’t see Henry.”

  Jack held her gaze. “He fell down the stairs trying to get Neville out. I thought I saw someone come in from outside to help them but… my only thought at the time was for you. I should go back.”

  Bella dragged on his arm as he stepped forwards. “No. You’re not going in there again. There’s nothing you can do. I won’t let you go again—I won’t.”

  As he hesitated, a new sound reached their ears, the insistent clanging of a bell.

  Bella clutched at him. “It’s the engine. Nobody needs to go back in there.”

  The people parted as the great horses galloped into view, the firemen clinging on behind, their brass helmets glinting in the unnatural light. A collective sigh went up from the watchers. Sarah ran towards the firemen and gesticulated and pointed before she began sobbing again. Keeping Bella tucked into his side, Jack fetched her away, and moments later, Finchdean found them.

  “I think the ladies should sit down. They look exhausted.” He peeled off his muffler and offered it to Bella. Jack realised he’d barely noticed the cold in all the excitement. It was jabbing icy fingers at him now, but it would be churlish to lament the loss of his jacket when the Sutcliffe family had lost everything. Bella was the only thing that mattered, and he sat beside her on a low garden wall, enfolding her tight in his arms.

  Strangers were arriving now, people who had come up from the town to see what they could do. The stark outlines, the geometric shapes and angles along the pediment of the once-great façade of the Georgian mansion were blurred now as the mortar began to crumble and the masonry shifted. The firemen yelled at people to move back in case any of it came down.

  Some of the new arrivals were distributing blankets, and Bella and Jack accepted sips of brandy. Sarah seemed to have gone into a stupor. Her eyes, standing out great and dark in her pale face, were pinned to where the main door had once been. She wouldn’t move or speak, didn’t react when a blanket was put over her, and a flask tilted to her lips. Jack looked at her, then at Bella—who was dry-eyed but still nursing her injured arm. If it hadn’t been done already, it was now high time to send someone for the doctor. Sarah was going into shock, just like Annie Tullard had done that dreadful day at the factory.

  That day when he thought Bella was being taken away from him forever. And he’d almost lost her tonight. It was time to get things settled between them before Fate intervened again.

  Chapter 75

  A doctor arrived to treat any injuries, and strapped up Bella’s wrist for her. He advised her to find shelter somewhere out of the cold and rest, but she refused to leave until the firemen had put out all the flames.

  The house could not be saved. When the grey chill of dawn stole over the watchers, it became clear that too much damage had been done, despite the firemen working tirelessly. A well-to-do neighbour came over and offered accommodation to the houseguests, and to Bella and her little group as well, but she refused, saying they must get back to her grandfather, to put his mind at rest.

  But one mind could get no rest, and that was her mother’s. No one had left the building since Peter went into it. When it finally entered Mama’s numbed mind that he could not possibly have survived the inferno, she collapsed in hysterics and needed to be sedated by the doctor.

  Jack had carried her all the way down the hill, and now she was upstairs, unconscious in a bedroom over her father’s shop, the one Jack had been using. Bella, her grandfather, Finchdean, and Jack were huddled before the kitchen fire, waiting for news. Bella hadn’t taken the pain-killing opiates offered by the doctor, lest she fall asleep—she wouldn’t be excluded from anything that was happening, and as soon as any news came, she wanted to be there to hear it.

  They were drinking tea to soothe their smoke-parched throats. Jack kept asking if he could have done things differently, could have stopped the fight from happening, or put the fire out when he could see Henry was bungling it, but no one seemed to blame him. Bella, totally unashamed, sat beside him with an arm around his waist, not caring what anybody thought, determined to claim him, overwhelmed with relief that he was still there with her, and not lying, a charred relic, amongst the ruins of Linden Hall.

  It wasn’t until five o’clock that afternoon, when they were all dozing with their heads on their arms that the knock came on the door. Bella felt sick immediately—she knew it was going to be bad, and her hand rested over her stomach as the policeman came in, his helmet held against his chest.

  He wanted ‘the young lady’ to leave the room, but she set her chin and glared up at him until he gave way. Three bodies had been found, he told them—two at the foot of the stairs. Another had been found in the hall, but there was evidence the man had fallen there from above, as pieces of charred wood and blackened ceiling plaster had been found beneath it. There would be an inquest, of course.

  But Bella knew it must have been Peter, falling from the landing. He had gone to rescue her, and he had died trying. She felt hollow, ill. No one said a word.

  The policeman gazed around at them, his face solemn. She stood up, and slowly, like someone in a dream, escorted him to the door and thanked him. When she came back, Jack was saying, “A horrible way to go, horrible. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  She swallowed down the bile in her throat. “Look, Jack, it really wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. You can’t put it right now—none of us can. Henry brought it on himself as much as anything. Well, at least we know. Now, we need to start thinking about what’s to be done.”

  She paused. Her wrist was throbbing, her head dizzy. “Jack, will you take me outside? I need air.”

  When they were out in the narrow street, he took her hand and clasped it against the undamaged side of his face. She turned her fingers to caress his cheek and asked, without raising her eyes, “When are you going back to Warbury?” She wanted him to say, never.

  “When you’re fit to travel, and when you’re ready to go.”

  “Me, go with you?”

  “Of course. I’ve no intention of leaving you here. But if you don’t want to leave, I’ll stay and find work here. My father will manage, I daresay. He’ll just have to find himself another chief engineer.”

  Her hands were trembling now, and she felt the colour rise in her cheeks. “How… how can I come with you?”

  “As my wife, naturally. I hope you’re not in any doubt about that?”

  “But… but you’ve never said—”

  But did he really need to? He’d risked his life for her. More than once. Still, she needed reassuring. Especially after what they’d just been through. All her life she’d had to struggle—why should things be any different now?

  Jack took both her hands into his and caressed them with his thumbs. He waited until she was looking up at him. Then he said softly, “We have to be together, no matter what Society may think of it. All I’ve thought about, all these last months, has been you. Since you left Warbury, I’ve been cursing myself for the way I treated you when we first met and then berating myself still more for letting you go so easily. And look what you’ve had to put up with since then! I’m going to put it all right for you now if you’ll let me. You must agree to marry me—you must. I couldn’t bear it if you said no.”

  Her mouth was dry, and she was trembling again. “Oh, hold me, Jack. Will you hold me?” As he reached for her, she murmured, daringly, “Do you love me?”

  “Of course, I do. I have done for a lot longer than you might imagine—longer than I was even aware of. You’re special, Miss Bella Hart—there’s nobody else like you.”

  Not caring that they were out in the street, that anybody could see, Bella clung to him, the tears streaming down her face. “It’s not that I’m unhappy.” She was finding it hard to breathe properly. “I’m sad and happy at the same time. It’s all been so hard, so hard. And now you’re here, and you wa
nt to take care of me, and I know now how precious that is. But what a way for it to come about.”

  “It would have come about, one way or another. Even if Henry still lived, we’d have found a way, believe me. Some things are just meant to be. But it’s over now, all the trouble. I promise you.”

  He was clasping her tightly, and she was unaware of anything else but him. Then the door opened, and she looked up to see Finchdean, rapidly turning away.

  Jack called, “It’s alright, come out, Josiah. You can be the first to congratulate us.”

  Finchdean grinned, and patted Jack heartily on the shoulder, and shook Bella’s good hand. “Well, well, this is good news, and we need some, don’t we? I hope it won’t be too long, Miss Isabella, before you can come to Somerset. Lucy will be delighted to see you.”

  Bella wiped her eyes and managed a smile. “Oh, Lucy. She could be my maid-of-honour, or whatever they’re called, couldn’t she, Jack? I know she’d love to wear a pretty dress just once in her life.”

  “Have you told Mr Hart, or Miss Sarah yet?”

  “It could hardly have escaped their notice that such a thing was on the cards. I think Bella here is the only one who couldn’t quite believe it was going to happen.” Jack smiled down at her.

  “Indeed. But what about Miss Sarah? She really doesn’t seem too well to me.”

  Jack pushed his fingers together. “Well, she has just lost her home… and her son. He frowned at Bella. “The funny thing about it is—and I hope I’m not speaking out of turn here—but she seems to be more upset about Peter.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Mama hasn’t said anything to me. She’s had very little to say for herself altogether. I am worried.”

  Jack gave her a squeeze. “I daresay she’ll rally in time. It’s been a great shock. The sedative may have depressed her too—perhaps that’s why she doesn’t want to talk. Don’t worry about it, dearest. I have a feeling things are only going to get better from now on. There’ll be plenty of good things to occupy your mind, now you know you’re to become a married woman.”