Fallen Angels

by Val Wood

  ‘Never! Not in a million years!’ Cook pronounced. ‘Even I can tell that and I know nowt about fashion.’

  The girl scowled at her. ‘No, I can see that! Rena told me this skirt was made for a nopera singer.’

  ‘Well if you’re so fond of it, Lizzie, you can keep it once it’s been washed,’ Mrs Thompson said mildly. ‘But whilst you’re here you must wear something more suitable, especially if we’re to find some other employment for you.’

  Lizzie glared at her too, but said nothing, only glowering at them all in turn through narrowed eyelids. Lily hazarded a guess that Lizzie wouldn’t be staying long in this establishment. She’ll be off as soon as she’s satisfied the pangs of hunger and forgotten the pain of her bruises. The girl’s thin arms were black and blue and she had a fading yellow bruise and cut beneath one puffy eye.

  The younger girl, Cherie, scrunched her arms about her waist and said she would like something warm to wear. ‘It’s that cold at night out on ’streets,’ she said huskily. ‘I thought I was going to freeze to death.’

  ‘And how much worse it would be in winter,’ Mrs Thompson murmured. ‘But we’re hoping that you won’t go back to that life, Cherie. We’ll find you something else to do.’

  ‘Huh!’ Lizzie groused scornfully, and pushed her empty plate away. ‘Like what? There’s nowt else for such as us wi’ no money or place to live. We know we can earn summat out on ’streets. Enough to buy us a meat pie or a glass o’ gin, anyway.’

  ‘So don’t you want to stay?’ Mrs Thompson asked in the same mild manner as before. ‘You don’t have to. Nobody is forcing you.’

  Lizzie pouted and tossed her head. ‘I onny said I’d come cos of Cherie. I knew she’d get ill if she didn’t get warm and have a bit of a rest and a proper bed to lie on; and she wouldn’t come wi’out me.’

  They’re living on the streets, Lily thought in horror. They’ve no place to stay. She took a deep breath of trepidation. Is that my fate? Is that what will happen to me?

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘Drop me off in ’Market Place, will you?’ Lily asked the waggon driver, thinking that she might as well go back to where she had started in this town, for she knew nowhere else.

  ‘You didn’t stop long,’ he said. ‘Are you a hard case?’

  ‘A hard case? What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, some of ’women who go there just have a bit of a rest and a hot dinner, and then they’re back on ’streets again. It’s called ’temporary home for fallen women so they can’t stop ’em leaving. It’s not like at ’female penitentiary where they’ve to stop for two years; they’ve to do washin’ and ironin’ and such like in there to earn their keep.’

  ‘I see,’ Lily said thoughtfully. ‘And in ’temporary home, do some of them go back to their families?’

  ‘Oh, aye,’ he said chattily. ‘Sometimes they do, or else they’re found other jobs. Committee’s going to try and buy ’house next door cos they’re running out of space wi’ just the one. They’ll have room for fifty women then.’

  Fifty! So many unfortunate women – or girls, she thought. That’s all Cherie and Lizzie are. Poor girls who have to earn a living out on the streets.

  ‘What ’you going to do, then?’ he asked as he drew to a halt in the Market Place close by a golden statue of a man on a horse. ‘Going home?’

  Lily shook her head. ‘I’ve got no home. I’ll have to look for work and then a room. Where should I try, do you think?’

  ‘Don’t know, missis.’ He pursed his mouth. ‘Try one of ’inns or mills. You might be lucky, you know, if somebody hasn’t turned up for work.’

  I’ve lost track of ’days, she thought. We came in on Friday, and the market was busy, as it was on Saturday when they took me to Hope House. Today it was quieter with fewer people and traffic about, just a few carts and waggons, a brougham parked outside a hostelry, a man with a donkey, and only one or two stalls in the long street.

  ‘Good luck then,’ the driver said, moving off. ‘Hope you find summat.’

  She vaguely lifted a hand as he drove away and walked down the side of the church towards King Street. Then she looked across to the parade of shops where the apothecary had his premises. Dare I go in? she wondered. And if I do will they expect me to take Daisy away with me?

  As she watched, the shop door opened and Mrs Walker came out; she brandished an umbrella and scurried away from the square, towards the street which held the workhouse. Should I go in and ask if they’ll keep Daisy for a bit longer? Mr Walker won’t know I’ve been ill and not able to look for work. She sat on a side wall and peered through the iron railings, out of sight of anyone watching from the shop window, and pondered on what to do. Then the door opened again and Oliver Walker came out. He had a box tucked under his arm and another in his hand, and he turned to the door as if waiting. Daisy emerged; she was smiling, and she too held a box in her arms. Lily saw them both laugh about something and then go off in the same direction as Mrs Walker. She’s not unhappy, Lily thought. She seemed very merry. I’ve not seen her smile like that in a long time. Not since I married that blackguard Billy Fowler.

  She moved off her perch on the wall and went back the way she had come. She had noticed an old inn across from the golden statue and thought she would ask there if they had any work.

  Outside the inn there were now several hansom cabs being loaded with luggage. A delivery van pulled through the archway towards the back of the building. A well-built woman with a clean white apron over her black skirt was giving orders to a man in a leather apron and at the same time shouting instructions to a young girl. She politely dipped her knee to several people leaving the hostelry, who departed with her good wishes for a safe journey.

  ‘Now young woman, what can I do for you?’ she asked briskly when Lily approached.

  ‘Beg pardon, ma’am, but do you have any work for me? I’m stranded in Hull and I’ve a young daughter to—’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve just took somebody on for cleaning. Come back at ’end of ’week and if she hasn’t shaped up I’ll talk to you.’ The landlady broke off to tell a young lad to get upstairs and bring some luggage down. ‘And look sharp about it,’ she harangued him. ‘Folks have a train to catch and ’cabby’s waiting.

  ‘Sorry, m’dear,’ she said to Lily. ‘But you see how it is?’

  Lily thanked her and backed away. This obviously wasn’t a good time, but when was? She walked along the street and saw another hostelry and enquired there, but the answer was the same. Nothing available; come back next week. How do I live in the meantime? No job means no food or money to pay for a room. She called in at a few shops, greengrocers and butchers, to ask if they required a cleaning woman but she didn’t have any luck there either.

  She avoided the smarter shops, milliners and drapers, as she had caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. I look like a country bumpkin in this old skirt and shawl. She drew herself up; she was a tall woman and striking-looking, she knew, but her old clothes dragged her down and made her look frumpish. There had been no new clothes when she had married Fowler, nor money forthcoming to make any. The clothes she was wearing were the ones she had had when she was married to Johnny.

  It was now well into the afternoon and some of the shops were closing, so she wandered further down the thoroughfare, past another church, and cut down a narrow side alley into the cobbled High Street, which was closely built with imposing houses, warehouses and inns. Running between some of the buildings were narrow lanes which on investigation she found led down to a river.

  ‘This must be ’River Hull,’ she murmured, and glancing south along it saw that it led into the Humber estuary. The river was full of coal barges, small ships and keels loaded with timber and other commodities. She turned away. ‘Nowt here for me,’ she muttered. ‘If I was a man I could try for work on a ship.’ She gave a wry smile. But I’m not a man and I’ve a daughter to consider. Dear God, she thought. What am I going to do?

  She called
at other inns but was turned away and in near despair stopped outside two more. Both were ancient timber-framed hostelries. Signs above the entrances pronounced one to be the Yarmouth Arms, the other the George Inn. A narrow alley ran between the two buildings and she cut down it into a large yard, determining this time to be assertive. Stabling with haylofts or accommodation above ran around the yard, and she scrutinized it carefully. The light was fading and she would soon need somewhere to sleep.

  ‘Got any jobs for a hard-working woman?’ she said breezily to the man who opened the rear door of the George. ‘I can draw ale, measure gin, scrub floors …!’

  ‘Possibly,’ he said, and she held her breath in anticipation. ‘But my wife takes on ’staff and she’s away till tomorrow. Come back tomorrow night about seven and you can talk to her.’

  ‘I couldn’t help you out tonight, could I?’ She gazed at him pleadingly. ‘I’m desperate for work and somewhere to stay.’

  He shook his head. ‘Staff don’t sleep in; you’d have to find your own room if she teks you on.’ He started to close the door. ‘Come back tomorrow. I’ll tell her to expect you.’

  Lily wanted to weep but she gritted her teeth and walked away. I’m that tired; I’ll have to find somewhere to sit down.

  The alley came out at the other end of the Market Place, where the name on the wall had changed to Lowgate. Between the two main streets lay myriad narrow lanes and courts, all crammed with poor housing. Lily shuddered; she had always considered Billy Fowler’s cottage to be a hovel, but at least we had fresh air, she thought. Not like the poor souls who have to live down here. They probably never see daylight.

  She sat down on the steps of a bank to rest her feet and watched as workers tramped their way home. Many of them were poorly clad and there were barefoot children with tearful weary faces shuffling alongside the adults.

  Is this what is in front of Daisy? Working in a mill or a factory? How am I going to feed and clothe her? I can’t expect Mr Walker to keep her. Tomorrow I’ll go and ask him what he thinks we should do. I’m willing to work. I’ll do anything. Anything.

  A fair-haired man came up the steps, glanced at her and then sat down on the step above. What’s he up to? she thought. Waiting for somebody? He doesn’t look like a down and out. She turned towards him. ‘Are there any soup kitchens in this town?’ she asked.

  He stared at her. ‘Onny in winter. Not this time o’ year. Why – ain’t you had no dinner?’

  ‘Yes. I ate at dinner time,’ she said. ‘Midday.’

  ‘Think yourself lucky then,’ he said brusquely. ‘There’s folk in this town that don’t eat from one day to ’next.’

  He looks as if he’s fed well enough, she thought, although he wasn’t fat, but rather quite lean. But he didn’t have a hungry look; on the contrary, he seemed satisfied, and his manner was complacent.

  He came and sat next to her. ‘I’ve seen you afore,’ he said, contemplating her. ‘Where’ve I seen you?’

  ‘Nowhere,’ she answered, but knew that he had, for she had just recognized him. She began to rise from the step, but he put out his hand to hold her back.

  ‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘Don’t rush off. I do know you! Your husband sold you to me last week!’

  ‘Scabby scurvy dogs!’ she said vehemently. ‘Both of you! Blackguard,’ she spat out. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’

  ‘Hey, hey!’ he protested. ‘What if I hadn’t bought you? You’d still have been with him. I did you a favour.’ He looked her up and down. ‘I thought you were expecting? Have you lost it?’ He clutched at her skirt, forcing her to sit again.

  Lily put her head in her hands and thought quickly. Maybe he could give her a bed for the night. But I shan’t share it with him, oh dear no. She lifted her head. ‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘I miscarried. I’m not well. I need somewhere to stay.’

  ‘What happened to your lass? The one that was with you.’

  ‘Somebody’s tekken her in. But they couldn’t tek me as well.’

  ‘So where’ve you been since then?’ he asked.

  She heaved a great sigh. ‘Home for fallen women. Hope House. Somebody sent me.’

  He started to laugh. ‘Oh, yeh! I know it. Some friends o’ mine often stay there. Listen,’ he said, ‘I told you to ask for me when you’d got rid of – you know. So why didn’t you? You belong to me. I bought you fair and square. Ten bob I gave for you.’

  Lily got to her feet. ‘Go jump in ’river!’ she said, any hope of a bed for the night fading rapidly. ‘Whelp! What are you? A procurer of women!’

  ‘I’ve been called all sorts o’ names.’ He looked up at her. ‘Most of ’em true. But I meant it when I told you to get in touch. You look ’sort of woman who’d not stand any nonsense.’

  ‘Huh!’ she said. ‘What? When I allowed myself to be sold!’

  ‘Ah, yes. But you didn’t have a choice, did you? Not when you were expecting a babby and you had your daughter wi’ you. I reckon you’d have given that husband a whack or a lash of your tongue if you’d been able to.’

  ‘I’d have roasted him alive,’ she spat. ‘And he knew it. That’s why he tied me up wi’ ’rope.’

  ‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to you. I’ve got a proposition. What’s your name?’

  She sank wearily back on the step. ‘Lily,’ she said.

  He nodded his head as if in thought, pursing his lips. ‘Lily. It’s got a nice ring to it. Miss Lily. Mmm.’

  Lily gazed at him suspiciously. ‘What ’you on about? It’s Mrs, not Miss. I’m a – was a – married woman. Been married twice.’

  ‘Have you?’ he said vaguely. ‘Well, I’m not bothered about that. Listen,’ he said again, ‘I’ve got a house – well, I don’t live there, but you can stay tonight if you like – no funny business, honest,’ he added as he saw her suspicious glare. ‘I’ve got my own place. I’ve onny just tekken this other house on. Fellow that had it had to move away in a bit of a hurry, and he owed me, so he let me have it. It belongs to Broadley,’ he said, but the name meant nothing to her.

  ‘It’s a house,’ he urged. ‘A sort of rooming house, but I need somebody to keep an eye on it. You know, run it for me.’

  ‘Oh!’ It sounded promising but she was still wary of him. ‘A kind of housekeeper, you mean?’

  He hesitated. ‘Yeh, summat like that. What do you think? Do you want to come and see it? It’s onny round ’corner from here.’

  ‘I’ve no money,’ she said. ‘You’d have to pay me if I work for you. Can I bring Daisy – my daughter?’

  ‘Erm, not tonight you can’t. But we’ll talk about it later.’

  He’d risen to his feet and as he did so a man passing by wearing a business suit and top hat greeted him. ‘Anything doing, Jamie?’

  ‘Not tonight, sir,’ he answered. ‘Mebbe tomorrow.’ He put up his thumb. ‘About ’same time?’

  The man nodded and walked on. Lily stood up; she was taller than Jamie. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll come with you. But I’m warning you, if you try owt—’

  ‘I won’t. You have my word, and if you don’t like what’s on offer, then you can just leave.’

  ‘Why me?’ she asked as they walked along the street. ‘You don’t know me or owt about me.’

  ‘I said, didn’t I? You look ’sort who wouldn’t stand any nonsense.’

  She gave a sceptical smile. ‘Or mebbe it’s because everybody else knows you and nobody trusts you. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re too well known.’

  He made no answer, only sighed, and they continued walking until they came to a square of houses, mainly run down, but some with lace curtains at the windows. ‘It’s just down here, that one on ’corner.’ He took a key from his pocket. ‘It needs money spending on it,’ he said. ‘Landlord won’t spend owt so I’ll do it up as soon as I have some.’

  He ran up the steps to the front door and inserted the key in the lock. ‘Come on in.’

  Lily cautiously followed him in
side. The hall was dark, for the rooms off it all had their doors closed. He knocked on one and called, ‘It’s Jamie!’

  ‘Come in, Jamie!’ a girl’s voice replied. ‘I’m on my own.’

  They entered the room. It was furnished with a bed and a chair, a desk and a chest of drawers. At the windows hung red velvet curtains and swaths of lace. There was a strong smell of perfume. A young woman was curled up on the bed; she wore a shabby dressing robe beneath which Lily glimpsed bare white legs.

  On seeing Lily behind Jamie, she drew her wrap round her. ‘Ooh!’ she squealed. ‘You didn’t say you’d brought visitors.’

  ‘You—’ Words almost failed Lily as she took in the scene. ‘You pander. Whoremonger! This is a bawdy house!’

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ted didn’t know the way to Hull. He’d never been, though he had a rough idea of where it was. If I go towards Hollym and then to Patrington I’m bound to pick up a sign for Hull. But I’ll have to go on ’old roads cos I’ve no money for ’turnpike if I have to pay. He hadn’t a single penny in his possession. He’d never had any money. Fowler had always said that he had to work for his keep, and Ted would rather that than feel beholden to him.

  He rode through his former home village but didn’t see anyone. The sky had darkened with low black clouds and the rain had kept everyone indoors. A dog barked as he passed one of the cottages but no one came out. I’ll ride on to Patrington, he thought, and then look for shelter. He was cold and shivery but at least Fowler’s rubber coat kept out the rain.

  ‘Come on, owd lad,’ he said to the horse. ‘Can’t you go a bit faster?’ He urged him on, digging his heels into his thin ribs, but Dobbin skittered and skidded on the muddy uneven road and Ted had to be content with a slower pace, keeping his head down and his collar turned up to stop the rain running down his neck.

  Just before he reached Patrington he noticed a brick barn with a damaged roof standing off the road, and decided to seek shelter. The rain was still lashing down and he could barely see the road in front of him. A gate hanging off its hinges opened on to a yard; he dismounted and led the horse towards it. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and get dry. We’ll go off again in ’morning afore anybody finds us.’