A Place to Call Home

by Evie Grace

  ‘Are you lonely?’ Minnie fretted.

  ‘Hardly. There are about one hundred and fifty prisoners – I am one of many, like a flea on a dog. I’m on a ward with several others my own age and several younger. I’ve taken the youngest boy who’s ten under my wing. It isn’t as bad in here as you think. It’s bearable.’

  He was putting on a brave face, Rose thought. He’d been in gaol for merely a week – he had a very long way to go.

  ‘We’ve missed you,’ Minnie said.

  ‘I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry for what I’ve done, and I can’t believe you’re here after what I put you through. I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.’

  ‘Of course we do, you clodpole,’ Rose said.

  ‘What do you do all day?’ Minnie asked.

  ‘There’s plenty to keep us occupied – there are four treadmills for hard labour and a crank mill for grinding corn. Some pick oakum and others are allowed to work in the garden to grow vegetables. There’s even a man who does shoemaking, but there’s no talking unless a guard speaks to you.’

  ‘What about you, though?’ Minnie said.

  ‘I get to go on the treadmill eight hours at a time, walking up the height of a mountain – it’s awful tiring when you are on it, all you are thinking of is keeping it turning, and how your legs ache. But don’t worry about me!’ His eyes flashed fiercely. ‘I got myself into this pickle and I’ll take my punishment. I tell you, though, if I ever get out of here, I’ll never do it again. I’ll die of hunger rather than take what isn’t mine.’

  ‘Do you promise that solemnly, hand on heart?’ Rose said.

  He nodded, and placed his hand on his heart. ‘I promise.’

  ‘We’ll be back to visit as often as we can,’ Minnie said.

  ‘I think I shall die here,’ he said, suddenly mournful.

  ‘I will not let that happen. I would swap with you,’ Minnie said sharply.

  ‘It’s kind of you, but it wouldn’t be allowed.’ Donald turned to Rose. ‘You haven’t told me what really brings you here from Overshill. I’m not stupid – I can tell something isn’t right.’

  ‘We’ve come to let you know that we’re going to put down roots elsewhere when we’ve found work. The word is that Faversham is pleasant enough.’

  ‘Faversham? You’re moving because of me?’

  Rose didn’t deny it.

  ‘I thought you were braver than that,’ he went on.

  ‘It isn’t just the gossips – they’re bad enough, but I can’t possibly take up my place as housekeeper at Churt House now.’

  ‘I see … the Cheeverses are not to be trusted. How can I ever make this up to you? I’ve been such a fool. Ma would kill me if she knew.’

  ‘What’s more, this has made our grandmother ill. Mr Carter blames us for her state of health. I thought it best to get away – I couldn’t have her death on my conscience.’

  He buried his head in his hands. ‘I’ve ruined your lives as well as mine.’

  ‘No, you haven’t. We will start again. You will join us when you’re let out. What’s done is done, water under the bridge,’ Rose said sadly. ‘We will get through this and one day we’ll be reunited with you and Arthur—’

  ‘And live happily ever after?’ he finished for her.

  ‘That’s right. We have to believe that.’

  ‘Visiting’s over,’ the warder said.

  It was with many tears that they left Donald behind and made their way back outside into the bright sunshine to collect the barrow. Rose quashed a yearning to visit their parents’ graves – Ma and Pa would have understood her reasons for not making the diversion to the cemetery. For the time being, her priority was to look after the living, not pay her respects to the dead.

  ‘We are going in the right direction?’ Minnie said after they had been walking for a while.

  Rose sighed. It didn’t really matter as long as they were putting some distance between them and Overshill, but she knew they were heading towards her intended destination when they came across a waymark for Faversham and the tall crown spire of St Mary of Charity rose into the sky ahead of them.

  ‘What will we do for money? Where will we live?’

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ Rose said sharply. ‘There will be work in Faversham, and failing that, there’s always the poorhouse.’

  ‘No,’ Minnie cried, making Rose wish that she hadn’t been so brutal.

  ‘I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m a little weary. Let’s say that I wouldn’t choose to go there, but if it means the difference between living and dying, we will choose the former.’

  They kept walking until they reached the outskirts of the town, following the Ospringe Road and passing the Union, Ma’s birthplace with its view of the gravel pits. Rose crossed the street to avoid it, in case its shadows could trap them and pull them in.

  ‘I’ve heard about those places,’ Minnie said. ‘They’re worse than the Rookery where Baxter lives.’

  ‘We would have food and a roof over our heads.’ And live among the lunatics and the sick, Rose mused, keeping her thoughts to herself. ‘We won’t need to go there – we’ll soon find work and lodgings.’ Had she done the right thing, dragging Minnie away from Overshill when she had no character reference or suitable clothing to apply for employment? She had thought she could turn her hand to teaching, but no one would look at her twice when they noticed the stains and rips on her dress. Touching the half a sixpence at her throat, she prayed for guidance. What would Ma have done?

  ‘Two bundles a penny, sweet violets!’

  ‘Any milk here! Fresh cheese and cream!’ came the calls of the street-sellers in the market.

  Rose hadn’t been to Faversham before, although she felt some affinity for the town when she spotted one of the breweries. According to the signage, it was owned by the Berry-Clays, the name reminding her of her mother’s former association with them. She wondered if she had run along the same streets as a girl.

  ‘Are you all right, Rose?’ Minnie reached out and touched her shoulder.

  ‘I was just thinking of Ma.’ She changed the subject. ‘We must find somewhere to stop for the night.’

  Minnie tripped, crying out as she fell on one knee. Rose heaved her back on to her feet and ordered her to get into the barrow.

  ‘I can’t do that – it’s too much for you,’ Minnie protested, but it didn’t take a lot to persuade her. Once she was sitting on top of their possessions, Rose dragged the barrow along the street, wondering where they should stop for the night. She felt nervous about asking for a room at the inn. It was busy, there were carriages flying in and out of the stableyard, and people everywhere. She had no idea what it would cost and was too scared to enquire.

  ‘Shall we sleep in the barrow?’ Minnie suggested. ‘We have plenty of blankets.’

  ‘That isn’t such a bad idea,’ Rose said, turning the barrow round and heading back out of Faversham.

  Eventually, they reached the gravel pits where they found a dip in the ground, hidden from prying eyes by the shadow of a dense hedge. Minnie soon fell asleep while Rose lay looking up at the night sky, listening to the scuffling of badgers in their sett, and the shrill shriek of a fox. She thought of Arthur in the smog, and Donald locked away in gaol, and Mr Wild. What must he think of her letting him down like this, or was she being naive even thinking he’d notice? Her heart ached as the stars twinkled in the blackness above her. She missed Overshill, and worried about their dear grandmother, but she felt Freddie’s absence even more. She doubted she would ever see him again, and that’s what hurt her the most.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Up the Creek

  ‘Minnie, it’s time to get up.’ Rose unfolded her limbs and stretched before shaking her sister’s shoulder the next morning. ‘We have much to do today.’

  ‘Oh, do we have to?’ she groaned.

  ‘If we aren’t to starve, yes. Come on.’

  Minnie sat up and gazed groggily around h
er.

  ‘Where are we? Oh, I remember.’

  ‘Today we find work, or beg for sanctuary at the Union.’ Rose shuddered at the thought of falling so low, but she couldn’t let Minnie starve on the streets. If there was anything she could do to keep them out of there, she would do it. She thought of the women she’d seen on the wharf, wearing flimsy clothes and too much of the devil’s trickery on their lips and cheeks, and changed her mind. She would do almost anything, but not that.

  She took the leather bottle out of the bottom of the barrow, undid the stopple and drank the warm, brackish water. Once she’d offered it to Minnie, she used the rest to wash their hands and faces, thinking longingly of ham, bread and hot milky tea.

  ‘Do I look respectable?’ she asked Minnie, nibbling on a piece of the cake they’d brought with them.

  ‘Almost,’ she said. ‘Let me brush your hair.’

  When they were ready, they set out for Faversham again, knocking on doors on the way, looking for work, but there was nothing for a woman who had no fixed abode or reference as to the quality of her character. After the seventh or eighth rejection, Rose began to see that it was hopeless. She had to think of an alternative. Perhaps she could find work at an inn? They must need cooks, servers and chambermaids.

  She went into the Ship Hotel and asked to speak to the landlord, who sent one of his minions to dismiss her as quickly as possible.

  ‘There’s nothing for the likes of you here,’ the young man said, staring at her.

  ‘The likes of me …?’ Her voice faded as she realised what he meant.

  ‘There’ll be work at one of the brickfields, I expect,’ he said more kindly. ‘Try Kingsfield. Ask for Abel – he’s one of the gaffers.’ He gave her brief directions to the place.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said.

  ‘Hurry along,’ he added.

  She didn’t hesitate. She knew when she wasn’t welcome.

  ‘Well?’ Minnie said, when Rose returned to where she had left her with the barrow, outside a nearby shop.

  ‘Nothing.’ She shrugged.

  ‘We aren’t having much luck, are we? We should’ve prayed harder in church.’

  ‘Maybe. Anyway, it’s no use standing around. We must make our way to Kingsfield to see if there’s any work there.’

  ‘What kind of work?’

  ‘I’m not sure exactly. We’ll have to see.’

  The sun was high in the sky when they entered the gateway to the brickfield, a stark expanse of earth stripped bare of grass and trees, where several gangs of men were working among stacks of burning bricks.

  A hot gust of air blew up a cloud of orange dust. Rose could feel it tickling at her throat and sticking to her forehead. She could smell rot and ash, and hear a regular tap-tapping sound, and the cries of the gulls overhead.

  ‘This is truly horrid.’ Minnie coughed. ‘We can’t possibly stay here.’

  ‘We have to endure it,’ Rose said, feeling bad-tempered and a little faint with the heat.

  ‘I wish we’d stayed in Overshill, or even in Canterbury.’

  Rose couldn’t restrain herself.

  ‘You lazy, ungrateful toerag! You’ve had me and Donald running around after you for months while your leg mended. Now that you’re well, you could at least show some gratitude. I’m doing my best.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rose.’ Minnie’s lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I am grateful. You’ve stuck by me through thick and thin. I’ll work anywhere … it’s just that this place looks like hell on earth.’

  ‘I know and I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.’ If it wasn’t for Donald they wouldn’t be here, she thought bitterly. ‘We have to put our fears to one side and take what we’re offered.’ Reaching for Minnie’s hand, she recalled Aunt Marjorie’s tale of Ma’s bravery when she was forced to leave home. Their mother had been completely alone.

  Nearby, a man was loading a stack of bricks on to the back of a cart drawn by a sorry-looking nag of a horse, nothing like the ones that Mr Carter sold from the farm. Another dusty man hawked and spat at their feet as he headed towards a pile of bricks that he was in the process of dismantling.

  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ Rose said. ‘I’ve been told to have a word with Abel.’

  He stopped and raised one eyebrow. ‘What do you want with him?’

  ‘I’ve heard he has need of more workers.’

  ‘Maybe. He’s down there somewhere.’ He pointed towards the wharf. ‘Mind your step as you go. What’s with the barrer?’

  ‘We are moving into new lodgings today, not that it’s any of your business,’ Rose said quickly. ‘Thank you anyway.’ With Minnie trailing along behind her, holding her shawl across her face, she towed the barrow across the bumpy ground until they reached a crowd of women and children who were hard at work, sifting dirt. Beyond them was a wharf where a flat-bottomed Thames barge sat in the grey sludge of the creek. Further out into the water was a second barge with its rust-red flax sails unfurled.

  A middle-aged man with a baccy tin tied to his belt approached, a smoking cutty pipe between his lips.

  ‘You look like you’ve taken a wrong turn,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘Are you Abel?’ Rose asked.

  He gazed at her quizzically. ‘Who wants to know?’

  ‘My name’s Rose.’ She shrank back, uncertain of him. Was he in any way a gentleman? ‘We’re looking for paid occupation, and came here because we were under the impression there was work to be had.’

  ‘Well, there’s some truth in that. The streets of Faversham aren’t paved with gold, but there are bricks to be made, and the season is short due to the weather.’ He paused and chewed on the end of his pipe, ruminating for a moment. He had an accent that was more Essex than Kent, and his skin and clothing were the colour of brick dust. ‘Have you sifted dirt before?’

  ‘No, I can’t say that I have, but—’

  ‘I haven’t any work today, but come back tomorrow morning at six o’clock sharp.’

  ‘I’m not too proud to tell you that we’re desperate,’ Rose said, her heart sinking. How long would they have to wait without a wage coming in?

  ‘I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do,’ Abel said.

  ‘I don’t know how to make bricks,’ Minnie said, stepping up beside her.

  ‘Oh, you won’t get into one of the gangs.’ Abel laughed. ‘You’ll be with the other women, sifting the dust that comes off the barges from London. The larger pieces – the breeze – get caught by the mesh and we use the ashes that fall through to mix with the clay to cure the bricks. You’re paid for the number of baskets of dirt that you sift. It isn’t for everyone – some can’t get used to the filth. The gangs come back every summer, but the women … they don’t stay long. I can’t promise anything, but I expect something will come up over the next few days.’

  Rose and Minnie returned four mornings running, sleeping in the barrow and eking out the little money they had, buying tea and food from the costermongers at the market. On the fifth day they were hired.

  ‘You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. I thought you’d have given up by now,’ Abel said. ‘Let’s see – you’ll need aprons and sieves. I’ll rent them out to you and you can pay me back with interest at the end of the week. I’ll dock it from your wages.’

  ‘What rate of interest will you apply?’ Rose asked, convinced now that Abel wasn’t a gentleman. He was scruffy, dirty and rude, and she wasn’t sure that she could trust him.

  ‘That’s a very smart question. How about fifteen per cent?’

  She swallowed hard. ‘That’s too much. We’ll never pay it off at that rate.’

  ‘Perhaps it is a little high. I’ll reduce it by one per cent out of the goodness of my heart. What do you think?’

  ‘It’s still too much.’

  ‘Oh, come on. You won’t find a better deal, and besides, you can’t work without the tools of the trade.’

  It was a reasonable argument, bu
t you could hardly call it a trade, Rose thought.

  ‘The aprons are over there.’ Squinting, he pointed to a makeshift table, an old door supported on broken bricks. ‘Take it or leave it. It’s up to you.’

  ‘I’ll take it, thank you,’ she said, upset at having been forced into a corner. She thought briefly of Baxter and how poverty had robbed him of the opportunity of making choices.

  ‘You’ll need one long apron and one of the shorter, thicker ones each, then go and join the rest of them. They’ll show you what to do.’

  She glanced towards her sister, who nodded and limped towards the table as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Rose picked up the first heavy leather apron from the pile and placed it around her waist, belting it up. She helped Minnie with hers before picking up a second, smaller and thicker apron which she laced up tightly on top of the first. The leather ran smooth beneath her fingers and she felt a lump catch in her throat, remembering the tannery and the cured hides that Pa had been so proud of. If there had been any justice in the world, Arthur and Donald would still be there, continuing his legacy.

  ‘Keep your chin up, Minnie.’ Rose forced a smile. ‘We’ll soon have money for a room. There’ll be no more sleeping in the barrow.’

  Minnie grinned back. ‘We’ll be able to live in a mansion.’

  ‘That’s wishful thinking, but it’s good to have a dream, something to hold on to.’

  Abel gave them each a heavy iron sieve before they joined the other women who were sitting in a semi-circle around a heap of refuse. Unsure of where to take her place, Rose moved to one end and sat down, her legs crossed under her skirt and aprons. She patted the ground beside her. Minnie sat down too, but she struggled to make herself comfortable, having to keep her mended leg straight, which made Rose wonder how long she would be able to work before her old aches and pains returned.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Minnie said.

  ‘Watch the others,’ Rose whispered back, trying not to make a spectacle of themselves, but that was impossible. She felt several sets of eyes on her as the other workers stared, their faces covered with scarves and rags to stop the dust getting into their mouths and noses.