Fallen Angels

by Val Wood

  Lily went back to her room. Lizzie had stripped off all of her wet clothes and climbed into Lily’s bed where she lay shivering. ‘I’ll get you a hot drink,’ Lily told her. ‘But do you want to tell me what happened? I thought you’d fallen in ’river.’

  ‘I nearly did.’ Lizzie’s mouth trembled. ‘Jump in, I mean, not fall. I’ve never felt so low, Lily. Never in my life. But then I thought about Cherie, and how she needed me, and about you, and how I’d be letting you down.’ She started to weep again. ‘And I hadn’t ’courage either, that’s top ’n’ bottom of it. I’m just a coward.’

  ‘No you’re not.’ Lily smoothed her wet hair, which was starting to spiral into dark curls. ‘You’re ’bravest lass I know. You don’t ever let owt get you down and God knows we’ve all got good reason. But why now?’ she asked softly. ‘What’s happened to distress you? Not Betty? You’re not upset that she’s gone and you’re still here?’

  ‘No.’ Lizzie gave a choking laugh. ‘No, I’m glad for her and I hope she’ll be happy wi’ Henry.’ She wiped her tears on the sheet. ‘He’s so nice he’d drive me barmy, but he’s just right for Betty.’

  She half sat up, leaning on her elbow. Her bare shoulders had plumped out since she had come here and were smooth and soft. She’s so young and lovely, Lily thought as she gazed at her. Yet so hardened and bitter. Surely there’s more for her in life than this?

  ‘I’m pregnant, Lily,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s where I’ve been today, trying to get rid of it. I’ve tried myself, but it’s too late. Everywhere I’ve been they said they wouldn’t tek ’chance of me bleeding to death.’ She was quieter now and more composed, though she kept giving deep sighs as if she couldn’t take a breath.

  ‘It’s not ’first time,’ she admitted. ‘It’s one of ’hazards of this job. I had an abortion when I was fifteen, but I’ve never had a proper flux since then and so I was caught out this time. I haven’t even been sick. So,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to have it and then give it away or hope it’s a still birth.’

  ‘Don’t!’ Lily said. ‘Don’t hope that! It’s a life when all’s said and done.’

  Lizzie shook her head. ‘What sort of a life will it have? What can I offer it? Nowt, that’s what!’

  ‘Love,’ Lily whispered. ‘That’s your gift to a child, no matter how the begetting of it.’

  Lizzie lay down again. ‘Can I stay here till everybody’s gone?’

  ‘Course you can.’ Lily smiled down at her. ‘In any case, Kendall’s in your room wi’ Sally.’

  ‘She’s welcome to him,’ Lizzie muttered. ‘It’s probably his bairn anyway. Damned barbarian!’

  ‘Try to get some sleep,’ Lily said. ‘I’ll lock ’door so’s you’re not disturbed and I’ll come in later with a hot drink.’

  Outside her door was a curtain pole holding a dark velvet curtain. Usually she left it draped to one side, but now she pulled it across, hiding the door so no one would disturb Lizzie. What shall we do, she wondered as she went towards the parlour, where she could hear the sound of singing. Alice had a sweet clear voice and one of the customers was singing with her. Then the door bell rang again.

  This’ll be Jamie back again, I expect. He’ll want to know if we’re making him a fortune. She opened the door ready with a sarcastic retort, but stopped and took a breath. It was the police and they pushed her aside as they barged in.

  ‘We’ve reason to believe you’re running a disorderly house.’ The sergeant, the same one who had been here previously, spoke brusquely. ‘And we need to question you, and all who are in here.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Lily was shocked into silence as the police charged in, making for the parlour and the stairs. Then she said hoarsely, ‘We’ve just got a few friends in, that’s all.’

  ‘Pull the other leg,’ the sergeant said, bringing out a notebook from beneath his rain cape. ‘We’ve reason to believe there’s been disorderly conduct in this establishment.’

  Lily put her hands on her hips. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Noise,’ he said, not looking at her, ‘riotous behaviour, conduct likely to disrupt ’neighbourhood.’

  Lily laughed; she couldn’t help it even though she felt nervous. ‘This neighbourhood!’

  ‘Yes, madam.’ He took a pencil from his pocket and began to write. ‘Residents of Lowgate have complained to ’magistrates of importuning females and their indecent conversation in ’area of Leadenhall Square.’

  Well, I can understand that, she thought. If I were a respectable citizen of Hull I wouldn’t want to live round here. ‘But no one has complained of us,’ she said. ‘Who would do that? We live very quietly.’

  He raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘I don’t mek rules.’ He handed her a slip of paper. ‘I just carry out orders and I’m here to tell you to be at ’magistrates’ court on ’date so written here. Can I have your name, please?’

  ‘You know my name,’ she said. ‘You took it last time you came on a fool’s errand.’

  He looked at her without speaking. ‘Lily Fowler,’ she said faintly. I’ll damn Billy Fowler’s name for ever, she silently vowed. He’s brought me to this. What shame.

  A constable came downstairs with a lopsided smirk on his face. ‘Nobody up there, sarge.’

  Kendall’s up there with Sally, Lily thought. He’s bought him off! Damn him! It would be almost worth going to court just to see him there as well. ‘I know you,’ she said abruptly, and then stopped. He was the man who had been here one night whom Mary had said was an odd cove. Now she realized that he was one of the constables who had come before. But how could she confront or accuse him? He knew they were running a brothel and he would also know that they couldn’t be prosecuted for it. There wasn’t a law against it, so they would find some other reason to charge her.

  Another constable came out of the parlour. ‘Drinking and playing music in here, sir. I’ve tekken names.’

  ‘There’s no law against that,’ Lily said indignantly.

  ‘Intoxicating liquor,’ the sergeant muttered, writing in his book. ‘Selling without a licence.’

  ‘No, we’re not!’ She almost shrieked at him. ‘There’s no money changed hands. Who’s put you up to this? Why don’t you go down ’street to ’other houses and see what they get up to?’

  The police officer put away his notebook. ‘Have done!’ He wore a satisfied smile as he spoke. ‘We’ve done a round-up. That’s why we’re here. We’re visiting every house in ’square.’ He tipped his top hat with his forefinger. ‘I’ll wish you goodnight, madam,’ he said with heavy emphasis.

  She closed the door behind them. The police had no valid reason to come here, she thought. Unless one of the other women who lived in the square had suggested they should. Perhaps out of spite because we don’t talk to them. Some of the women used to shout after her if they saw her; derogatory expressions like ‘stuck up bitch’ and ‘Lady Whore’.

  They called after Lizzie too, who always retaliated and gave them back a mouthful of abuse which made Lily cringe. Or, she thought, maybe a client had spoken of them and word had got back to the police.

  She gave a deep sigh and looked at the warrant. She had to appear at the magistrates’ court the following day. At least they didn’t arrest me, she considered. I could have been spending the night in a cell.

  Two of the customers appeared from the parlour. ‘Erm, can’t stay, I’m afraid,’ one said. ‘Have to be off.’ The other one hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘Well, I’m going to stay. They’ll not prosecute me and you’ll need the money to pay the fine. Come on,’ he said to Alice and Cherie. ‘No point in wasting time.’

  ‘Not Cherie,’ Lily said. ‘I need her for something.’

  The man shrugged and went upstairs with a reluctant Alice.

  ‘Mek a pot o’ chocolate, will you, Cherie?’ Lily said. ‘Lizzie’s back and in my room. She’s not well.’

  She pulled aside the curtain and opened the door to her room.
It was in darkness; Lizzie must have turned out the lamp.

  ‘It’s all right, Lizzie,’ she whispered, fumbling on the desk for a candle and match. ‘It’s onny me.’

  Lizzie put her head above the covers. ‘It was ’police, wasn’t it? I’d recognize ’sound of them clodhopping boots anywhere.’

  ‘Yes.’ Lily held up the lighted candle. ‘But they’ve gone now. I’m accused of keeping a disorderly house. I’ve to appear in court tomorrow.’ Her voice trembled no matter how she tried to keep calm. What if Daisy heard of it, or Mrs Walker? Would her daughter be dismissed because of her?

  Lizzie sat up, frowning. ‘Why here?’ she muttered. ‘This is a well kept house. Somebody’s got a grudge.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Lily sat on the edge of the bed. ‘But I can’t think who. One of ’customers has left; he decided not to stay, but ’others are still here, including Kendall. Constable who went upstairs came down and said there was nobody there.’

  ‘Bribe!’ Lizzie said caustically. ‘Not that Kendall’d have been prosecuted; men get away with it every time. But ’word would have been put about that he was here, and he wouldn’t want his wife finding out what he gets up to.’

  ‘So Sally’s all right, and Alice, Cherie and Mary were only singing.’

  ‘They could mek summat o’ that,’ Lizzie said. ‘They’d say they were singing vulgar ditties.’

  ‘It must have been ’other women who told of us,’ Lily said. ‘Sergeant said they’d been doing a round-up.’

  ‘Meks us sound like a pack o’ horses, doesn’t it?’ Lizzie gave a wry grin. ‘Fillies!’ Her grin faded. ‘And that’s what we are.’

  Cherie knocked on the door. She’d put a pot of chocolate on a tray with two cups and saucers. ‘Where’ve you been, Lizzie?’ she said. ‘I’ve been that bothered about you.’

  Lily glanced at Lizzie and raised her eyebrows. ‘Lizzie will tell you later,’ she said. ‘Right now she needs to rest.’

  Lizzie took the cup from Cherie and sipped the chocolate. ‘That’s good,’ she sighed, and took another sip. ‘No, I’ll tell her now,’ she said, ‘and get it over with. I’m pregnant. I’ve been out all today trying to find somebody to help me get rid of it. But there was nobody, so I’m stuck wi’ it.’

  Cherie’s mouth opened and then closed. Then she whispered, ‘I’ll help you look after it, Lizzie. I like little bairns. And – and I’ll go wi’ men instead of you, or we can tek it in turns once you’ve had ’babby. We’ll need ’money to feed and clothe it.’

  Lizzie nodded, but tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘Yes,’ she said huskily. ‘I suppose we could do that.’

  The next morning Lily presented herself at the door of the magistrates’ court. She had dressed neatly in her grey gown and a plain bonnet and the usher asked politely, ‘What can I do for you, miss?’

  When she showed him the papers he seemed taken aback. ‘Would you come with me, Mrs Fowler?’ he said. ‘There’s someone here you might like to speak to. Your case won’t be heard just yet. There are twenty women before you.’ He must have noticed her surprise for he added, ‘Some are charged with robbery and violence and will be heard first.’

  He took her along a corridor and she heard the raucous sound of singing and swearing coming from a room off it. She shrank back. Dear God, she thought. Please don’t put me in there with those women. They’ll eat me alive. But he continued along another passageway and opened a door. ‘Wait here and I’ll send somebody to you.’

  He locked the door behind him and Lily sank down on to a wooden chair, one of two which were placed at a table. There was nothing else in the room: no furnishings and no curtains against the narrow barred window. She clasped her hands together. What if I’m sent to prison? I’ll be in a worse position than when I first came to Hull.

  She’d waited about fifteen minutes before she heard a key turn in the lock. The usher opened the door to admit a man, then closed it behind him and locked it again.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Fowler.’ The man greeted her pleasantly. ‘My name is Thomas Fulton. I’m sorry you find yourself in such an unfortunate situation. The usher asked if I would speak to you as you didn’t appear to him to be the usual type of offender. I’m generally here at the courts when charges of indecency or disorderly conduct are heard.’

  ‘Are you a lawyer, Mr Fulton?’ Her voice trembled. ‘Can you help me?’

  ‘I’m not a lawyer, Mrs Fowler. I’m a member of the Society for Enforcing and Improving Laws for the Protection of Women.’ He gazed at her solemnly. ‘But I might be able to help you. Would you like to tell me your story?’

  She told him, as succinctly as she could, for she was aware that she might be called before the magistrate at any time, all that had happened to her since she came to Hull with Billy Fowler; of Jamie paying her husband and of her being obliged to him for giving her shelter after she had lost the child. He made a moue with his lips when she mentioned Jamie’s name as if he knew him, although he made no comment, either then or even when she said that she had in fact been running a brothel.

  ‘One of my girls has done well,’ she choked, for she felt very emotional. ‘She’s going to marry one of her clients. I’ve rescued two young foreign girls. If I could onny do something about ’others – well, three of them anyway – I’d feel that all of this hadn’t been in vain.’

  ‘Tell me, Mrs Fowler,’ he asked quietly. ‘Amongst your clients, do you ever have any eminent gentlemen, or are they mostly from the lower classes?’

  ‘Oh, they’re gentlemen mostly,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘So called,’ she added bitterly. ‘Men of law and business, though we’ve had Navy men. Officers, not crew.’ As she spoke she thought of Leo. He was a magistrate. Suppose he was to try her case? He would never admit to knowing her, of course.

  ‘If by chance,’ Fulton was speaking, ‘just supposing that a clerk to the court or a magistrate or lawyer might have been a client and you saw him here today. What would you do? Would you greet him as if you knew him or would you pretend that you’d never met him?’

  She gazed miserably at him. Whatever she did, the odds were against her. There was the police constable who had visited the house. Was he gathering evidence or indulging himself? There was Kendall; he certainly wouldn’t stand up for her. She was convinced that Mr Fulton was going to advise her not to display any recognition of such men. ‘I’d have to treat him like a stranger,’ she muttered. ‘What else could I do?’

  ‘Stand up to them,’ he said severely. ‘Women need greater protection. There should be no need for women to prostitute themselves just to survive. Laws should be implemented to crush this vile trade.’

  ‘I know,’ she said irritably. ‘But as long as there are men willing to pay for their services, then there’ll allus be women willing to take their money. It’s a vicious circle, Mr Fulton, and not one that we can change, no matter our good intentions.’

  He gazed at her. ‘You’re an articulate woman, Mrs Fowler. We could do with you on our side. These men should be denounced.’

  She heaved a sigh. ‘I’m doing my best,’ she said. ‘But I can’t do it from inside a prison cell.’

  The key turned in the lock and the usher opened the door. ‘Mrs Fowler is to be called next,’ he announced. ‘Would you come with me, please?’

  Lily could hardly stand. Her legs felt like jelly and she swayed from side to side as she followed the usher back down the corridor. The women in the cells were still shouting and some were singing in a raucous drunken manner. Have they been here all night? she wondered. Were they drunk when they were brought in?

  ‘They’re regulars,’ the usher commented. ‘They’ll spend a night or two in jail and then go back on ’streets again.’ He glanced back at her. ‘This your first time?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said hoarsely. ‘And I hope it’s my last.’

  She was led into a crowded courtroom as two street women were being brought out. ‘Don’t bring them before me again,�
� the magistrate called out. ‘I don’t want them in my court with their filthy obscene language!’

  Lily raised her head and looked towards the bench. It was Leo, and she didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lily licked her dry lips as she stood in the dock and Leo Leighton sifted through the notes in front of him. At his nod the clerk to the court asked Lily to give her full name.

  ‘Lily Fowler,’ she whispered.

  ‘Would you speak up, please,’ Leo said, with no sign of recognition or any other emotion on his face.

  I wonder if he’s nervous of what I might reveal, Lily thought. Though I suppose he’s used to accusations or abuse, especially from women like those who have just left. ‘Lily Fowler,’ she said more loudly.

  ‘And you live in Leadenhall Square?’ He glanced again at the notes in front of him. ‘Have you lived there for very long?’

  ‘Only a few months, sir.’

  ‘Have you fallen on hard times which have necessitated your living in such an undesirable place?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said. ‘I was left stranded in Hull without any support.’

  ‘Have you a husband?’

  ‘I did have. But after he abandoned me I heard that he’d died.’

  Leo leaned forward. ‘Your husband left you here? Why was that?’

  ‘He brought me from Holderness and sold me in Hull market. He wanted rid of me.’ She tried to swallow but her throat was parched. ‘Might I have some water, please?’

  Leo indicated that water be brought. He frowned. ‘He sold you? To whom?’

  ‘A resident of Hull, sir, who gave me shelter. I – I’d just lost a child; it didn’t go full term,’ she explained. ‘I was desperate. I didn’t know anyone here. Didn’t know where to turn.’

  Leo ran his hand over his chin. He had said on first meeting her that she was a remarkable woman and asked what she was doing in Leadenhall Square; now she was telling him.

  She took a drink of water from the glass that was brought and gazed directly at him as he said, ‘You stand accused of running a disorderly house and selling intoxicating liquor without a licence. Is this true?’ He too raised his head and gazed at her.