The Street Orphans

by Mary Wood

  ‘Frederick, oh, my dear. Forgive me. Oh God, I’m so sorry.’ The scent of her told him she was near, but he had to keep his eyes closed, as the nausea would beat him if he didn’t. But why is she asking for forgiveness, when it is I who should be begging it of her?

  Another voice came to him, a rough-and-ready voice. ‘Eeh, what’s to do, Ma’am? What’s happened? Eeh, look at you, you’re in a reet mess – and look at me Lord Rollinson. What happened?’

  ‘Annie, Lord Rollinson is suffering from the amount he had to drink. Can you do something for him, in a very discreet way?’

  ‘Eeh, I can’t understand it. He was fine when I told him as you were ready. I mean, he had the expected banter with his friends, and then that Lord Bellinger accompanied him to his room, saying he had his last duty as best man to carry out – helping to get the bridegroom ready for his bride and making sure he knew what to do. Everyone had a laugh. I even giggled meself. They must have carried on drinking. Anyroad, M’Lady, he looks fine. I’d be for just letting him lie there and sleep it off. That’s the most discreet we can be. If I get a servant to help, it’ll be all over the house what state he is in, and what was obviously a successful union between the two of you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your nightdress, M’Lady . . .’

  Frederick heard no more. His common sense agreed with Annie – he was best lying here until the sickness passed. With this, he closed his eyes.

  Katrina’s shame had her drooping her head, but when Annie asked, ‘Are you all reet, M’Lady? Remember, I did tell you as this would happen, but are you hurt bad?’ she knew she had to act differently, to minimize the gossip amongst the household staff.

  ‘No, not at all, Annie. It was nothing. My husband is the gentlest of men. Now, you are to say nothing of this. You are my closest confidante and I want you to remain that way, but if anything gets out about what happened here, I will not take you with me as my maid when I move to Lord Rollinson’s home. Now, see to my bath and I will dress. We will deal with my Lord Rollinson after that. He seems to be sleeping soundly again.’

  Worry niggled inside her at Frederick’s condition. His face had taken on a pallor that frightened her, and his sleep was more akin to a coma, as his whole face had slackened and his eyes and cheeks had sunk until he looked almost skeletal. She hoped with all her heart that he would rally in a while and the doctor wouldn’t have to be called, as surely he would detect what had happened and then the whole sorry tale would come out. But then, was it a sorry tale? Part of her couldn’t think that the coming together of herself and Simon was. A sensation zinged through her at the memory of it, and now sadness settled in her at the sure knowledge that she had married the wrong man.

  16

  Frederick

  Finding Amy

  ‘Well, lad, you’ve not made a good show of yourself, but I’m glad to see you’re well now.’

  ‘I can’t apologize enough, Sir. I still have no recollection of events. The last thing I remember is going to my rooms with Bellinger and—’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t tell Katrina that, Frederick. She won’t be pleased, as by all accounts you managed to consummate the marriage, and it will be important to her that it meant something to you.’

  It seemed that the world knew he had come together with his bride – even her father! He only wished he knew it himself, because whatever had happened on their wedding night hadn’t been repeated. He’d just not been up to it, and hadn’t visited his wife’s bed since. His illness had meant they had missed their trip to France and had been stuck at his in-laws’ house while he recovered. Never in his life had he felt as he had felt the last few days, though he hadn’t taken up Arkwright’s offer of having a doctor attend him. His father-in-law had done enough for him, as it was. No, the few days’ rest had gradually cleared him of whatever had ailed him.

  Katrina had visited him every day, and he’d learned more about her than he’d known before. She had a sweet, attentive nature, though he detected something amiss and felt sure he had been rough with her. Not wanting to embarrass her, he hadn’t broached the subject.

  Nothing about his body seemed different. Even now, when he felt well, he didn’t detect anything in him that might suggest he’d taken on the mantle of ‘being a man’, in the sense of having experienced lying with a woman. It was disappointing in a way to feel like a virgin still, but he had no excuse to delay repeating the act, so tonight would be the night – why didn’t that fill him with some sort of anticipation? Now, if it was Ruth . . . Stop it! Stop being so damned silly. That can never happen! Ruth has gone; there is even a possibility that she could be dead.

  This thought brought a pain into the pit of his stomach that stabbed his heart. He couldn’t bear the thought of that. He had to find out the truth about what had happened to Ruth. He’d start by getting a man to look further into that chap he’d met at the market in Pradley, and to look for Ruth’s sister, too. He still felt guilty about her. Damn that bloody Bellinger! There was a lot he could lay at his door – his own state on the night of his wedding, for one!

  ‘Maybe tomorrow you will feel able to come to the mill with me, eh? I can start to put you in the picture as to the workings of it, and give you a feel for it all.’ This, from his father-in-law, drew Frederick from his musings. Agreeing with him and showing some interest – not that he felt any – appeased the man and suited his own purpose, as learning the ropes would give him an excuse to stay around Blackburn a little longer, to put his plans into operation.

  The door opened and his sister-in-law walked in. He didn’t like Marcia or the way she carried on, often flirting with him in an open manner. The look on her face told him that something was brewing in her mind – he’d seen the same look many times over the last few days.

  ‘What is it, Marcia? Can’t we men have even a few minutes without one of you women folk disturbing us?’

  ‘Sorry, Daddy. I was looking for Katrina and naturally, when I heard Lord Frederick’s voice, I thought I might find her here. Though why I did so, I can’t imagine. There has been no real young lovers’ spark about the two of you.’

  ‘Marcia, you should learn to hold your tongue, lass. I can’t think why you have such bad manners. Your mother has spent many pounds of my money trying to make a lady of you!’

  ‘Oh, Daddy, that is unfair. I speak my mind more than a lady should, maybe, but I am a lady and I am not bad-mannered. Oh, by the way, I bumped into Lord Bellinger whilst out for my ride this morning.’

  The look, and the drawl she used to voice this, sent worry coursing through Frederick, but he couldn’t have said why.

  ‘I invited him to dinner.’

  ‘You had no right, young lady. You should have consulted your mother. She is not best pleased with Bellinger; and neither, I imagine, are Lord Frederick and Katrina. He was the main instigator in making their wedding night a near-disaster.’

  ‘Only near?’

  Marcia’s eyes flickered with a venom that chilled Frederick.

  ‘Anyway, I rather fancy Lord Bellinger. Oh, I know he has spoken for someone, but Lady Henrietta Parvoil is no catch, not to speak of. Simon only wants her because of her social connections. Whereas I – well, I can bring him a lot more, as surely—’

  ‘Marcia! Damnation, girl, does your tongue have naw bounds? I have told you there will be a handsome dowry for you, but all the holdings in the mill will pass to Katrina – to her husband, that is. It is done, and cannot be undone.’

  ‘Daddy, there must be some part of it that you could pass on to me? What kind of a prospect am I? A dowry is nothing. The gentry are all suffering financially – well, most of them are. They all want a foot in the cotton-mill industry.’

  ‘Well, they should have taken the opportunity when it arose, instead of trying to get in the back door by making marriages. They— Oh, I beg your pardon, Lord Frederick. Marcia, leave the room at once!’

  Frederick had heard of Arkwright’s temper, but
hadn’t thought to witness it, or to hear how he really felt about the marriage of his daughter. He was glad, though, that Arkwright had given him his title, in another person’s presence. It boded well for his learning, and stood to remind Marcia of the respect she should show him.

  ‘Please forgive my outburst. I . . . Look, I didn’t mean that, lad. Me tongue wagged without me bidding it to. That daughter of mine – God alone knows where she pitched up from. Though likely she’s taking after me: ruthless and stepping on all she needs to.’

  ‘Don’t concern yourself.’

  ‘Naw, lad, it were unforgivable of me. It ain’t even what I think, where you’re concerned. You’ve given me daughter far more than we’ve given you. She now has the proper standing in life that she’s entitled to. I stole that from me wife. But I have given her love. Her father sold her to me, if truth be known – another one desperate for me money. Eeh, here I go again. I’m like a mole digging a hole and piling the muck behind me, as I go.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, really. You’re an honest man. We both are. It’s not easy, the way the world goes round in our circles. I hate most of it, but I love it at the same time. You won’t lose out, or be sorry that I have taken Katrina. Neither will she. I will make her happy. I will give her and your family standing in society. As you say, it is deserved, through your wife’s birth, and should be restored to her and given to your daughters. And I am not averse to you giving Marcia some share in the business, if it will make her happy and improve her prospects.’

  ‘Well, I am. I love her very much, but I recognize the worst side of meself – and, yes, of her mama – in Marcia, and that will spell trouble if she has even a small hand in the business. I’ll sort her out so that she’ll be taken on by a good husband. Though this thing with Bellinger worries me. D’yer see owt coming of it? Marcia has a way of getting what she wants.’

  ‘No, Bellinger wouldn’t go against his word to Henrietta Parvoil. It would cause too much of a scandal and he’d be ostracized by society, something he couldn’t face. Lord Parvoil is extremely influential in many fields of society and politics. He’s even a favourite of the Queen, up to a point – and not as much as he’d like to be – but he could, and would, make Bellinger’s life hell if he crossed his daughter. The most Bellinger could get away with is taking a mistress, as that is still the done thing and is acceptable, if conducted in a discreet manner.’

  ‘Good God! I allus knew you toffs were a fickle lot. Well, Bellinger hadn’t better throw his cap in Marcia’s direction with that in mind. I’d kill him. It may be accepted in your world, lad, but it ain’t in mine. And while I’m on, don’t you ever think of doing such a thing to my Katrina, or I’ll take back everything you have coming to you. Aye, her an’ all, if it comes to it. I’ll not stand for it, thou knows.’

  ‘You have nothing to worry about, Sir. I am an honourable man.’ Or am I? Why, if I am, do I even think of Ruth in that way? With this thought came the memory of what he intended to do, for Ruth and Amy. ‘On another subject, Sir, my wish to carry through obligations to others has put me in the position of needing your help. I want to engage an investigator.’

  Without taking any heed of Arkwright’s adverse reaction to this, Frederick went on to explain why, which further astonished the man. ‘But that lot did for your brother, and caused harm and great stress and unhappiness to your mother. It beggars belief that you now want to help them!’

  ‘I am not sure they did all they were accused of; and, if they did, they at least tried to help my mother. She would have died if they had taken the easy way out and run off. But they didn’t. Besides, the lads have paid heavily; and don’t forget they all lost their mother and little sister because of what happened. And that after losing their father and being evicted! So I do feel responsible for the girls’ welfare. Setting them up with a position amongst my servants isn’t much to me, but to them it could make the difference between dying and living.’

  ‘Aye, well, lad – put like that. Here.’ His father-in-law walked over to his desk and retrieved a calling card of the type businessmen generally used. ‘This man tracks down folk as owe money, but his skills would be the same for this, so he could be what you’re looking for. What does Katrina think of it all?’

  ‘I haven’t discussed it with her. It doesn’t concern her.’

  ‘Oh, but it does. That’s the first rule you’ll have to learn about being married – especially to someone as determined as Katrina can be. She won’t be crossed, or left out of things such as this. I’d chat to her about it, if I were you, lad.’

  This surprised Frederick and was alien to him. He had only ever known the man of the house to take decisions and do what he thought best. Women were capable of running the home, having children and taking part in the frivolous side of society without disgracing their husband, and of course servicing the husband’s needs in the bedroom, but that was all. Well, it was for the women of his class, anyway. It seemed the Arkwrights hadn’t completely prepared their girls for the world they wanted them to join! Oh, well, it would make no odds. Nothing would stop him from carrying out his intentions – and certainly not his wife’s opinion to the contrary. He’d never be able to live with himself, and would be considered brow-beaten by a petticoat, if he allowed such a state of affairs.

  A pain woke Amy. It stabbed her stomach and then settled to a dragging ache. The dampness between her legs that followed this told her she wasn’t having a babby and brought on her tears – tears that had been frozen inside her. Oh yes, she’d shed some, but still there had been a lump of tears left that she’d been afraid to cry out of her, and it had taken good news to shift them; and, with their shifting, she lost all control.

  ‘Shut your racket! Don’t you think as we all wanna give way to bawling our heads off? Some of us are trying to sleep here!’

  Knowing she was disturbing the others in this cramped room, where row after row of beds accommodated the workhouse inmates, didn’t help. She couldn’t stop. The tears flooded from her eyes, but her whole body wept for everything she’d lost and all that had happened. Loneliness crowded in on her and fuelled her despair.

  ‘For God’s sake, put a sock in it, afore I put me fist in your gob. That’ll stop you, alreet.’

  ‘Leave her alone. Any of you touch me little Iva and you’ll have me to contend with!’

  Lil came over to her. She’d never call this woman loopy, as the rest of them did. It wasn’t a problem to her that Lil still thought of her as her lost daughter. It made Lil happy, and that was all that mattered. Besides, it brought some comfort and love into Amy’s own life, as did her friendship with Lettie. She was a good friend, was Lettie. She’d managed to get Amy a job working alongside her in the infirmary, and that had eased the load she’d to bear. She’d never have survived doing what most newcomers did: keeping the sewer free, emptying the slop buckets and rodding the cesspit. God, the fetid air when she got downwind of it made her feel sick, let alone swishing it about.

  Snuggling into Lil’s arms slowed Amy’s sobs. ‘Fetch Lettie for me, Lil. She’ll be rising from her shift just now.’

  ‘Naw, I can see to you meself. Tell me what’s wrong, me little Iva. I’ll sort it.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, whoever sorts it, do it quietly, will you? I’m trying to get me last winks of sleep here. I’m warning the pair of you: shut up the racket, and shut it now!’

  Lil leapt at the man who’d said this, her hands held cat-like in front of her. Spittle ran from her mouth; and her hair, grey and wiry, stood up as if she’d taken fright. But the man moved faster than she did. The full thrust of his fist cracked into Lil’s jaw, sending her spinning backwards. The crashing of her head onto the iron bedstead behind her caused a sickening crunching sound, which resounded around the now-still and quiet room.

  As if spilt from a bottle, blood seeped out from under Lil’s head and snaked its way into a pool that settled near Amy’s feet. Lil’s eyes stared up at Amy. Her lips moved, but no sound
came from them. Getting down beside her, Amy cradled Lil to her. Something inside her told her to call Lil ‘Mam’. ‘You’re alreet, Mam, I promise. Me and Lettie will make you better.’

  Lil’s eyes held love and hope, but the rattle of her chest told Amy that all was lost, as did the trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Mam, stay with me.’

  ‘Naw, tell her to come to you,’ a woman that she knew as Peggy whispered in her ear. ‘That way she’ll go happy, as there’s no saving her, and in her heart she knows her Iva’s gone.’

  This seemed the right thing to do. ‘Mam, come to me. I’ve waited so long. I’m in heaven waiting for you.’

  ‘Eeh, lass, see that smile on her face. You did good. You made her passing from this world a happy one for her. I saw her eyes light up for just a second, when you said as you were in heaven waiting for her. She weren’t a bad lass. Just demented, like. But she’s gone to her rest now.’

  ‘What d’you mean – gone?’ The bully of a man whom Amy had often been afraid of, and who’d hit Lil, stood up, his stance aggressive. ‘It were self-defence. She were coming at me, she—’

  ‘You needn’t have hit her like that. You could have held her at bay. She were a frail thing; it wouldn’t have taken no doing.’

  ‘You killed her alreet,’ another voice chipped in, to the sounds of others agreeing and more accusations being levied, until the noise increased to a frightening anger of lynch-mob proportions. In one corner Amy saw the younger ones of her own age huddled together.

  The man backed away, inching towards the door, all the time facing the crowd and telling them he’d take any of them on, if they liked. No one went so far as to tackle him, but when he reached the door he backed into Lettie. His arm lashed out, knocking her off-balance. Catching her, he held her to him, with his arm around her chest. For a moment all went quiet. her shocked and frightened expression urged on Amy’s body and she lunged at the man, catching him off-guard. Stepping backwards, he stumbled with the weight of Lettie. Amy, on her knees now, sank her teeth into his leg. His scream was that of a babby, and he let go of Lettie.