Fallen Angels

by Val Wood

  Lily suddenly bent double with pain. ‘I think it’s too late anyway.’ She retched and he hurriedly fetched a small bowl and a towel. ‘Oh!’ she gasped again. ‘Leave me, sir. And you, Daisy, go away. This is not for you to see. I’ll manage on me own.’

  The chemist ushered Daisy out of the room and into his shop. ‘Is the pain very bad?’ he asked on his return a few minutes later. ‘I can give you something to ease it.’

  She gave a groaning laugh. ‘I don’t think you can. There’s nowt to ease ’pain o’ childbirth.’

  He gave a small smile. ‘Indeed there is. The use of chloroform is very effective.’

  She gazed at him from watery eyes. ‘Aye, I heard summat about it. But that’s not for ’likes o’ me. I couldn’t afford owt like that. Can you spread an old sheet or newspaper on ’floor? I don’t want to mek a mess on your nice clean floor.’

  ‘It will wash,’ he said. ‘It’s washed every day with carbolic acid to kill any germs.’

  She swallowed and squeezed her eyes tight as another pain creased her. ‘This is bad,’ she muttered. ‘Mebbe I’ll have that midwife after all.’

  He nodded. ‘My son has gone to fetch her. He’ll be back in just a moment. She lives only across King Street.’

  ‘I don’t know where that is.’ She breathed heavily. ‘This is my first visit to this town.’

  He raised his eyebrows, and then turned his head towards the door at the sound of a jangling bell. ‘That’ll be Oliver back again. Just a minute.’ He hurried out and returned immediately with a woman, older than Lily, perhaps in her late thirties, who bustled in, took off her shawl and rolled up her sleeves, then washed her hands in the sink as the chemist went out of the door and closed it quietly behind him.

  ‘Now then, dearie.’ She turned to Lily. ‘Let’s have a look at you.’

  Daisy had stood on guard behind the counter. Mr Walker’s son had asked her to mind the shop whilst he slipped out to fetch the midwife. ‘Shan’t be a minute.’ He grinned. ‘Two shakes of a lamb’s tail, that’s all.’

  She wondered how he knew that old saying. He surely wouldn’t have seen any lambs here in Hull, except those brought to market. He wouldn’t have seen them frisking in the meadows as she had, jumping with all four feet in the air when they were only a few weeks old.

  She gazed about her. Such myriad bottles, boxes and containers, and narrow chests with small wooden drawers, each with a brass plate engraved with a name on it. Names she couldn’t even pronounce, let alone understand. Many of them began with ph and she blew through her lips as she tried to say them. A pair of brass scales, some tweezers and several spoons of different sizes stood on the counter. Muslin, adhesive plasters, bandages and scissors were in a box on a shelf underneath.

  He’d returned within a few minutes, closely followed by a woman, who looked at her and commented, ‘You’ve got an assistant, Oliver!’ So then Daisy knew his name.

  ‘Will my ma be all right?’ she asked him shyly when the woman followed Mr Walker into the other room.

  ‘I don’t know.’ He came round the back of the counter to stand next to her. ‘I don’t know about this sort of thing. But I expect so, now that Mrs Moody is here. She’s well respected. That’s why my father asked her. It was lucky she was in.’

  ‘Is this your shop?’ she asked. ‘Your father’s, I mean.’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘I help him. I’m his unpaid assistant. Until I pass my exams and then I’ll be his junior partner.’

  She sighed. ‘That’s nice,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t know where my father is. Ma says he’s dead.’

  Oliver frowned. ‘But I thought – I thought …’ He pointed vaguely across the square towards the church. ‘Wasn’t that your father who – who sold your mother?’

  ‘No!’ she said vehemently. ‘He’s not! That’s Billy Fowler. Ma married him when my da didn’t come back. He was a sodger,’ she explained. ‘Ma says he was killed in Afghanistan – or somewhere foreign, anyway.’

  ‘I see,’ Oliver said solemnly. ‘I’m sorry. And don’t you like your stepfather?’

  ‘No, I don’t! And Ted doesn’t like him either.’

  ‘Who’s Ted?’

  ‘My brother.’ Her mouth trembled. ‘His name is Edward really, but we allus call him Ted. He’ll wonder what’s happened to us when we don’t go back.’ She turned anxious blue eyes up to him. ‘What do you think Billy Fowler will do to him when he gets home? He won’t want him there. He didn’t want either of us; he didn’t want this bairn that my ma is having either.’

  Oliver took a breath and wondered if this act of kindness on their part might have brought them more difficulties than they had anticipated. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

  ‘Daisy,’ she said. ‘Daisy Leigh-Maddeson.’

  ‘I’m Oliver Walker, Daisy,’ he said. ‘And I think that your brother will be able to look after himself perfectly well, and that he’ll probably come to look for you and your mother.’

  She smiled at him. ‘Do you think so? Ma says that he doesn’t have ’brains he was born with. But he’s all right really.’

  Oliver laughed. ‘All mothers say that. My mother used to say it to me – Ah!’ he exclaimed as the door jangled open. ‘Here she is!’

  As Mrs Walker came through the shop door, so too did Mr Walker emerge from the inner room. She looked suspiciously about the shop. It was as if she could smell trouble. Then she spotted Daisy behind the counter and stared at her.

  ‘Who’s this?’ she demanded. ‘We don’t allow people behind ’counter!’

  Mr Walker and Oliver spoke at the same time.

  ‘This is Daisy.’

  ‘Her mother is in labour.’ Mr Walker indicated the door behind him. ‘Mrs Moody is with her.’

  ‘In our dispensary!’ Mrs Walker looked horrified at the idea. ‘Molly scrubbed it out only this morning!’

  ‘Yes.’ Charles Walker gave an apprehensive smile. ‘Wasn’t that a good thing? That’s why I like it cleaned every day. We just never know when we might need it for emergencies.’

  His wife glared at him. ‘We don’t have the facilities for women in – in those circumstances. Why isn’t she at home?’

  ‘She’s from out of town, Mother,’ Oliver cut in. ‘She was taken ill and brought here.’ He avoided saying that his father had been sent for and had brought her here himself.

  ‘Well she can’t stay,’ she stated. ‘Not once she’s been delivered. She’ll have to go home.’

  ‘We can’t go home,’ Daisy said in a small voice. ‘It’s too far, and anyway …’ Her words trailed off as she saw Oliver give a warning shake of his head.

  ‘We’ll talk about that later,’ Mr Walker said briskly. ‘She’s in no fit state to go anywhere right now.’ He smiled down at Daisy. ‘In the meantime would you like to help us?’ When she nodded he said, ‘Go through into the kitchen and wash your hands and face. Molly will give you some hot water and maybe even a cup of chocolate if you ask her nicely. Mmm,’ he pondered. ‘Perhaps she’d better make a large jug. I’m sure your mother and Mrs Moody would like some too; and then when you’ve had that you can go with Oliver on a few errands and deliver some prescriptions.’

  He looked at his wife, whose face had set as if in stone. ‘It’s the least we can do,’ he said quietly. ‘She’s only a child, and she’s had a difficult, worrying morning.’

  She didn’t answer, but swung round, with her basket still on her arm, and barged through another door into what Daisy assumed was their private rooms.

  ‘Come on,’ Oliver said to Daisy. ‘I’ll come with you and introduce you to Molly. You’ll like her, she doesn’t bite.’

  Ten minutes later the midwife put her head round the door. ‘Mr Walker. Can you come?’

  He stopped counting out some tablets into a box, and went towards her.

  ‘She’s having a bad time,’ she said softly. ‘I can’t save ’child, but if you could give her a drop o’ laudanum or mebbe a whiff o’ chlor
oform to help her over ’pain, I can deliver her of it.’

  He nodded. Going first to lock the shop door, he went back into the dispensary and washed his hands at the sink. Then he took a pair of steps and climbed up, reached to the top shelf and handed down a bottle to Mrs Moody. On the ground again, he poured a few drops of the liquid contents on to a pad of folded muslin and approached Lily, who was lying on her side on the bed with the sheet over her.

  ‘I don’t know your name,’ he said.

  ‘Lily,’ she breathed. ‘Lily Fowler it is now, though I’ll not be known by that any more.’ She took a deep breath and gave a silent cry, her face creased with pain. ‘I’ll – go back to my other name when this is over.’

  ‘Well, Lily,’ he said, ‘would you like me to give you something to ease your suffering? Chloroform is perfectly safe.’

  ‘Aye, why not?’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘It can’t hurt ’babby, cos she’s just telled me it won’t live. I knew that anyway. Yes,’ she said. ‘I’d be glad to have summat. This is worse than giving birth to a living child. It can’t help itself out like a full term one.’

  ‘I know,’ he said softly, and leaning over her, he said, ‘Take a nice deep breath, Lily, don’t fight it, and you’ll just have a little sleep.’ He put the pad over her nose and mouth. ‘Breathe in, and when you wake up it will all be over and you can begin your life again.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When Lily’s eyes fluttered open she was on a narrow bed with a pillow beneath her head and a warm wool blanket over her. She gazed through half-open eyes round the darkened room which was lit by a low oil lamp, wondered vaguely where she was and then drifted off to sleep again. When she woke again it was morning, the lamp had either burned out or been turned out, and she could hear voices calling, the clatter of hooves and rattle of wheels, and all the bustle of life going on outside in Hull’s Market Place.

  I must have been here all night, she thought. But where’s Daisy, and what about ’babby? Somebody must have— Her thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and Daisy came in.

  ‘I’ve brought you a cup o’ tea, Ma.’ She smiled. ‘Molly’s just made it. It’s that hot it’s steaming, look!’

  Lily sat up. She felt refreshed after her sleep, though her body was aching. ‘I don’t know who Molly is,’ she said, ‘but she’s an angel. That’s just what I need.’

  ‘She works here,’ Daisy said. ‘She told me she’s general dogsbody to Mrs Walker; but she likes Mr Walker. She says he’s a proper gentleman.’

  Lily blew on the tea. ‘So he is,’ she murmured. ‘I reckon I’d have died without him.’

  Daisy observed her solemnly. ‘Babby died, Ma. Mr Walker said we’d to think of it as nature’s way.’

  ‘Aye, poor bairn,’ Lily sighed. ‘I reckoned that it would; it wasn’t ready for this world. But mebbe just as well for I don’t know what I’d have done wi’ another bairn to feed. As it is, Daisy, I still don’t know what we’ll do. We’re in a fix and no mistake.’

  Daisy said nothing, not telling her mother that she had heard raised voices last night after Mr Walker had closed the shop, and he and Oliver had gone through to their parlour for supper. She had stayed in the kitchen with Molly and the cook, who had eyed each other but made no comment, at least not in her hearing. It was Mrs Walker who was doing most of the talking; her voice was shrill whereas Mr Walker’s was low and subdued, and although she could only catch occasional words she guessed that the subject under discussion was how soon she and her mother would be leaving.

  ‘We might have to leave today, Ma,’ she said. ‘I don’t think we’ll be allowed to stay any longer.’

  Lily shook her head; her dark hair tumbled about her shoulders and Daisy thought she looked beautiful. ‘Course we can’t,’ she said. ‘Why should these folks keep us here? Mr Walker’s been very good to tek us in. He’ll need this room for his work.’ She swung her legs off the bed, clutching the teacup in her hand. ‘I feel a bit dizzy,’ she murmured. ‘I’m not sure if I can stand up.’

  There was a knock on the door, and Molly entered carrying a tray. ‘I’ve brought you a bit o’ breakfast, missis,’ she said. ‘Sorry, but I don’t know your name.’ She nodded at Daisy. ‘I know this is Daisy.’

  ‘Lily.’ Lily gazed at the tray. It had a teapot, a sugar basin and a milk jug on it, and a plate of eggs and bacon. ‘Lily Leigh-Maddeson. I’m going back to my first husband’s name. I don’t want to hear my second’s ever again.’

  Molly drew near. ‘I heard,’ she whispered, her eyes wide. ‘Is it true? That he tried to sell you?’

  ‘Tried!’ Lily exclaimed. ‘Well, money changed hands. But whether it’s legal I can’t say. He said it was, but I’d never heard of it afore.’ She took the tray which Molly held and drew her legs back on to the bed. ‘This is good of you.’ Her voice dropped low. ‘Does Mr Walker know I’m eating his vittles?’

  ‘Oh, aye. He said as I’d to bring you a good breakfast as you mebbe wouldn’t know when your next meal would be.’

  ‘I don’t.’ Lily was hungry, not having eaten since she and Daisy had shared the bread the previous day, and set to to demolish the breakfast, mopping up the egg yolks with a slice of bread. ‘If I’m stopping in Hull I’ll have to look for work, but if I’m going back to where I belong then it’s a long walk.’

  ‘I heard Mr Walker tell his wife that you weren’t fit to be moved yet.’ Molly nodded her head knowingly. ‘He said you’d had a difficult time.’

  ‘So I did, and I was glad of whatever it was he gave me, but that doesn’t mean that I should stay on here.’ She wiped the corner of her mouth with her finger. ‘I’d like to pay him back somehow if I can. Will he let me do summat? I could wash ’floor in here.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ Molly said. ‘I have my instructions on how it’s to be done. He’s very particular, is Mr Walker. He’ll come in to see you, I expect, when he’s finished his breakfast and you can ask him if you like.’ She went towards the door. ‘If you bring ’tray back when your ma’s finished, Daisy, you can fetch her some hot water for washing. You’ll want to freshen up, I expect?’

  Lily thanked her and said that she would. She finished eating, after asking Daisy if she’d like some of the bacon.

  ‘I’ve had mine,’ the girl answered. ‘Just ’same as yours. Eggs weren’t as fresh as ours, Ma,’ she whispered. ‘And ’bacon was salty.’

  Lily agreed, but added, ‘I’ve never had my breakfast in bed afore, Daisy; that was a real treat. Now that we’re fed we’re ready for whatever ’day throws at us.’ She handed her the tray. ‘Fetch me that hot water, there’s a good lass, and I’ll have a wash. Then I’ll thank Mr Walker and we’ll be off.’

  ‘What do you think you and your daughter will do?’ Charles Walker asked. ‘When you’re ready to leave, I mean. I could go with you to the workhouse and plead your case if you’d like me to.’ He gazed anxiously at her and she wondered why he would feel at all responsible for someone he didn’t know. He had a pleasant face, she mused, though worried-looking, and she wondered if that was on her account or if he always had a troubled countenance. His eyes were deep brown and his forehead was wide where his hair was receding.

  ‘The only difficulty with applying at the workhouse,’ he continued, ‘is – well, there are two really: one, you are not from the area, and two, the building is very overcrowded. There’s to be a new workhouse built on Anlaby Road which will accommodate more residents.’

  Lily felt tears spring to her eyes. What a dilemma. She didn’t want them to have to go to the workhouse, where they’d certainly be separated; Daisy would be sent out to work in one of the mills as a pauper worker, whilst she would probably have to pick oakum, unless she could get a job outside.

  ‘If I could find work I could perhaps afford a room,’ she began. ‘I’m a good housekeeper, or I could work in an inn, I’ve done that afore. I don’t suppose …’ She hesitated. Dare she ask this question when he had been so good to them alread
y? ‘I couldn’t ask if you’d let Daisy stop wi’ you for a bit? Just until I found work? I don’t mean for nothing. She’d work for her keep. She could scrub floors or run errands. She’s a good girl.’ She gazed at him imploringly. ‘She wouldn’t be any bother.’

  He had opened his mouth to speak when the shop door bell jangled and they heard voices. ‘One moment,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll just see who this is.’

  He went out of the room and as the door swung open she heard a woman’s voice. Daisy slipped in. ‘It’s Mrs Walker,’ she whispered. ‘She’s in ’shop wi’ two men. She looks a bit fierce.’

  ‘Does she?’ her mother whispered back. ‘Is it summat to do wi’ us, do you think?’

  Daisy nodded. ‘She wants us to leave. I heard her telling Mr Walker. They were arguing about it this morning; he says you should stay a bit longer.’

  The door opened again and Martha Walker entered. She was thin-faced and bony and dressed in outdoor clothes: a long black coat with a grey shawl over it and a dark grey bonnet which covered most of her light brown hair.

  ‘I’m Mrs Walker,’ she announced. ‘I’ve made arrangements for you. There’s transport waiting to take you elsewhere. You’ll be looked after until such time as you’ve recovered from your ordeal.’

  Lily rose from the bed where she had been sitting. ‘That’s very—’ she began. Kind, she had been going to say, but there was something in the woman’s demeanour which suggested that kindness was probably not one of her traits. ‘Thoughtful,’ she said. ‘Most thoughtful, Mrs Walker,’ she added. ‘I’m very grateful to you and Mr Walker.’

  Mrs Walker sniffed as if to say And so you should be, but she pursed her lips and then said, ‘It’ll be most appropriate, I’m sure you’ll agree, and the only option open to you under ’circumstances. I understand you were turned away from ’workhouse yesterday?’

  Lily nodded and swallowed. ‘Yes.’ What has she in mind? she thought. Where is she sending us? Mr Walker can’t know about it or he wouldn’t have asked me what we were going to do.