The Workhouse Girl

by Dilly Court

  Mary’s expression softened just a little. ‘Well, I suppose that’s right, but why did you stay away so long? How are you going to explain that to Davey?’

  ‘Explain what to Davey?’

  Sarah spun round to see Davey standing in the doorway. He stared at her in disbelief. ‘Sarah?’

  She held out her hands. ‘It’s me, Davey. I’m not a ghost. I was just trying to explain things to the children.’

  He closed the door with such violence that the house shook. ‘You let us think you died in the fire and then you turn up out of the blue.’ He planted his feet apart, folding his arms across his broad chest. ‘And we’re supposed to pretend that it’s all right. Is that it?’

  ‘I sent you a note.’

  ‘Well I never got no note. Everyone said that you’d perished in the flames and I had no reason to suppose different.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You’ve had plenty of time to send word since then. Where’ve you been all this time?’

  His frosty gaze sent shivers down her spine and she looked away. ‘In London. We took Miss Elsie to hospital but they couldn’t save her.’

  ‘Who took you to London? Was it that villain who forced you to live with the mad woman?’

  ‘Don’t say things like that, Davey.’ She met his hostile gaze with a frown. ‘I won’t let you speak to me like this. I thought you’d be pleased to see me and I’m sorry you thought I was dead, but I had to do everything I could for Elsie.’ She made for the door but he barred her way.

  ‘You put me through hell,’ he growled, taking her by the shoulders. ‘What am I supposed to think? Did you run off with your fancy man?’

  ‘Stop it, Davey.’ Mary stamped her foot. ‘Don’t be mean to Sarah. Can’t you see she’s trying to explain what happened?’

  ‘Be quiet, Mary. This is between Sarah and me.’ Davey turned to his brothers, scowling. ‘And you two should be in bed. Don’t sit there gawping.’

  Lemuel and Jonah scrambled to their feet and went to sit on the wooden bed at the back of the room, watching them wide-eyed.

  ‘Leave them alone. It’s me you’re angry with, not them.’ Sarah pulled free from his grasp. ‘I’m sick of saying sorry, and Grey isn’t my fancy man. He saved Elsie from the fire and his hands were too badly burned for him to drive, so I did. We took her to London but it was no use. She died in hospital.’

  ‘Why didn’t you come home then?’

  She was quick to hear the note of uncertainty in his voice and she laid her hand on his arm. ‘I wanted to, Davey. But things happened and it was complicated.’ Her voice broke on a sob. ‘I don’t want to talk about it now. Perhaps I’d better go.’ She made a move to walk past him but he reached out and caught her by the hand.

  Mary hurried to her side. ‘You must be hungry, Sarah. There’s enough soup left in the pot for both of you.’

  ‘Thank you, Mary, but I had supper at Blackwood House. That’s where I’m staying until things are sorted.’

  ‘Blackwood House?’ Davey stared at her in amazement. ‘That old place? It’s been empty for years.’

  ‘And it’s haunted,’ Lemuel said in a loud voice. ‘No one goes there. The yew tree tunnel eats people.’

  ‘And spits out their bones,’ Jonah added gleefully. ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘Get into bed and stop being silly.’ Mary snatched their nightshirts from the back of a chair. ‘I don’t want to hear another word from either of you.’ She tossed the garments at them. ‘Don’t make me come over there, boys. I’m getting cross now.’

  Davey drew Sarah aside, lowering his voice. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?’

  ‘It’s complicated. Grey’s family own Blackwood House and his uncle has falsely accused him of theft. Now the police are after him, and he must leave the country as soon as possible, which means finding a ship that will take him to the Continent.’

  ‘Which is why you’ve come to me, I suppose.’ Davey’s tone was not encouraging.

  ‘You’re the only chance he has of getting out of the country. He’s innocent, Davey. I wouldn’t ask you to do this for him if he was guilty.’

  ‘Why should I? He’s brought you nothing but trouble.’

  She raised her hand and then let it fall to her side. ‘I thought you were my friend.’

  ‘And I thought we had an understanding, Sarah Scrase. I thought that one day I’d go down on bended knee and ask you to marry me, but it seems I’ve been a fool. First of all it was the schoolmaster who was ogling you like a lovesick old goat and then you go off with that criminal. I wouldn’t lift a finger to save his neck.’

  Sarah backed towards the door. ‘You’re a stupid, jealous fool, Davey Hawkes. I never made any promises to you.’

  ‘And now you’ve found someone you like better. It wouldn’t be because he might own the big house some day, unless his neck gets stretched by the hangman’s noose? I thought better of you.’

  ‘That’s not true and it’s not fair.’ She wrenched the door open. ‘I’ll never ask you for anything again as long as I live.’ She slammed out of the cottage with Mary’s sobs ringing in her ears.

  She was halfway down the main street when Davey caught up with her. ‘Wait, please.’

  She continued walking. ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘No, please stop a moment.’ He caught her by the hand and drew her to a halt. ‘I’m sorry. Seeing you like that was a shock. I hardly knew what I was saying.’

  ‘You made your feelings perfectly clear. I was stupid to think that you’d want to help.’

  ‘I’m the one who was stupid. I can’t begin to tell you how I’ve been feeling these past few weeks, but I had no call to speak to you like that.’

  ‘I did send you a note, Davey. I would have come sooner if I hadn’t got caught up in everything that was going on in London. But I really thought you knew I was safe.’

  ‘I’ll do anything you ask,’ he said, lifting her hand to his cheek. ‘Just tell me what needs to be done.’

  ‘Grey has to leave the country. If you can’t take him I thought you might know someone who can.’ He hesitated and she thought that he was going to refuse. ‘But if you don’t want to get involved I can hardly blame you,’ she added hastily. ‘It’s not your problem, Davey.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ he said slowly. ‘If it makes you unhappy it becomes my problem. We’ve been through hard times before, Sarah. I know someone who might be willing to help, for a price.’

  She thought quickly. There was still money left in the leather pouch, although she did not know how much. ‘That shouldn’t be a problem. What do I have to do?’

  ‘Nothing. Give me a day or two and I’ll let you know.’

  She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Ta, Davey. I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Now I must go. Grey’s waiting for me in the churchyard.’ She attempted to wrest her hand from his grasp but he tightened his hold.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you?’

  ‘He’s years older than me, Davey. I’ve never thought of him as anything other than a friend.’

  Davey uttered a derisive snort. ‘That wouldn’t stop him fancying you. You’re an innocent, Sarah.’

  ‘I can look after myself and I trust Grey. He’s been good to me and I don’t want anything to happen to him. Promise me that you’ll do everything you can to get him to safety.’

  He raised her hand to his lips and brushed it with a kiss before letting her go. ‘I promise. Now go and find him. I’ll wait here until I see you safely on your way.’

  ‘Thank you, Davey. I’ll never forget this.’ She turned and ran towards the churchyard, waving to Grey who was waiting in the shelter of the lychgate.

  Time would have hung heavily while Sarah waited for news from Davey had it not been for exploring Blackwood House, and its overgrown grounds. When she saw the yew tree tunnel in daylight she could quite understand how the rumours concerning it had arisen. Neglected and
left untrimmed the green boughs intertwined and twisted into strange shapes that had all but obliterated the passage between them. But when all was said and done they were just ancient trees that someone had planted many centuries ago in order to create a sheltered approach to the formal garden at the rear of the building. Perhaps the toxic berries that the trees produced had something to do with its macabre reputation, but whatever had started the rumour was patently absurd.

  Sarah wandered on through the lost gardens of Blackwood House finding something new and interesting at every turn. Half-hidden pathways led to a tumbledown gazebo or a weed-choked lily pond, and at the bottom of what once must have been a croquet lawn she discovered a long-forgotten summerhouse. The windowpanes were cracked and the roof leaked, but the wooden table and chairs inside must once have been the setting for afternoon teas enjoyed by ladies and gentlemen of leisure.

  She could only be glad that Parker had not chopped the furniture up for firewood, which seemed to be his main occupation. He roamed the grounds armed with an axe and hacked at fallen branches to fuel the kitchen range and set snares for rabbits, which ended up in the pot. Behind the red-brick walls of the kitchen garden Sarah discovered vegetable beds which he had done his best to tend, but they too were weed-strewn and the wildlife seemed to have benefited from their produce more than Parker himself.

  A greenhouse occupied the length of one wall, and although it was dilapidated she found evidence of planting, which confirmed her suspicion that Elsie had been growing some of the rarer specimens for use in her herbal remedies. She could not wait to discuss her find with Grey, but when she returned to the house she found him in the drawing room covered from head to toe in soot.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, trying not to laugh.

  He blinked and shook his head. ‘I was trying to light the bloody fire, and there was a fall of soot.’

  She struggled to keep a straight face. ‘I can see that.’

  He shook his head and black specks flew in all directions. ‘We might be here for days and I can’t spend another night sitting in the kitchen with Parker snoring his head off by the fire. I thought we’d be more comfortable in here.’

  ‘I hope we won’t be here that long. It’s too dangerous.’

  He plucked a dust sheet off one of the chairs and wiped his face. ‘I want pleasant memories of the old house when I’m in exile.’

  ‘Don’t put it like that. It sounds so final.’

  ‘I can’t see myself being able to return in the near future. George wants me out of the way and he’s not going to relent. He’s not that type of man.’

  ‘Elsie would turn in her grave if she knew how her brother was treating you.’

  ‘Poor Elsie. I wish I could have done more for her. It was a miserable end for someone who spent a good part of her life healing others.’

  ‘Maybe she left the house to you, Grey. If Mr Moorcroft finds her will, you might be the rightful owner.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘That won’t do me much good if I’m arrested the moment I put a foot on English soil.’ He frowned. ‘But if that should be the case, Sarah, I want you to live here and look after the old place until it’s safe for me to return. I doubt if it will happen that way, but I’d be happier knowing that you had a roof over your head.’

  ‘But I have no money, Grey. I’ll have to find work somewhere and even if I could get a job as a schoolteacher I wouldn’t be able to afford the upkeep of a house like this.’

  ‘There should be an income from farms and cottages on the estate, but I suppose George has been keeping that for himself. He certainly hasn’t spent it on the property.’ Grey stared helplessly at the heap of soot on the hearth, topped with an empty bird’s nest and a pile of dead leaves. ‘What a mess.’

  ‘I’ll clean it up,’ Sarah said firmly. ‘Go and stick your head under the pump in the stable yard, and perhaps you can find a change of clothes in one of the bedchambers. The house seems to have been abandoned with everything just as it was when your grandparents passed away.’

  ‘You might take your own advice,’ Grey said, grinning. ‘You look as though you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.’

  She glanced ruefully at her mud-spattered skirt and the tear where it had snagged on a bramble. ‘There’s a huge clothes press in the room where I slept last night, but wouldn’t it be stealing if I took something for myself?’

  ‘You can’t steal from dead people.’ Grey made for the door. ‘My mother was about your size and I daresay she might have left some garments here, although they’ll be a bit old-fashioned and probably moth-eaten.’

  This made Sarah laugh. ‘Do you remember the clothes I wore when I was with Elsie? We had to take whatever cast-offs people swapped for her pills and potions. I’m not fussy.’ She followed him out of the room and made her way upstairs, where she spent an hour sorting through the outdated but surprisingly wearable garments carelessly abandoned by people who did not know the meaning of poverty. In the end she selected a grey gown in a fine woollen material with a slightly yellowed lace collar and pagoda sleeves. No doubt Grey’s fashion-conscious mother would have made the garment ever more up to the minute by adding separate undersleeves in lace or broderie anglaise, but she was unlikely to have done anything more arduous than ply her needle or entertain her friends with afternoon tea in the summerhouse.

  That evening, over a supper of stew that Sarah had prepared using produce from the garden and Parker’s contribution of a pair of rabbits, skinned and neatly butchered, she told Grey about her finds in the walled garden. ‘Elsie cultivated herbs in the greenhouse and she visited regularly to bring food to Parker. I wonder why she never mentioned it?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps it was her way of cocking a snook at the family who disowned her. We’ll never know now.’

  She pushed her plate away, resting her elbows on the table. ‘If it had been my house I wouldn’t have let it go to rack and ruin. I’d look after it and bring it back to life. I can’t bear to see the grounds strangled by weeds, and the house longing for someone to take it in hand. A lot of hard work and a bit of polish would work wonders.’

  Grey stared at her, eyebrows raised. ‘I can’t see it myself.’

  ‘I feel as though I’ve lived here all my life. Isn’t that strange?’ She turned with a start at the sound of tapping on the drawing room window. ‘There’s someone out there, Grey.’

  He leapt to his feet and crossed the floor to fling the casement open. ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘It’s me, Davey Hawkes. Let me in.’

  ‘Go to the front entrance.’ Grey closed the window and made for the door. ‘I’ll let him in, Sarah. You stay here in the warm.’

  She rose from the table and went to stand by the fireplace where a log fire burned brightly thanks to Grey’s efforts that morning. She waited anxiously, hoping that Davey might have good news.

  He followed Grey into the room and came to a halt, taking in his surroundings. ‘Why do you need me when you own all this? I’d have thought a man of property could buy his way out of trouble.’

  ‘It’s not mine,’ Grey said, taking the leather pouch from his pocket and laying it on the table. ‘This is all the money I’ve got in the world. I don’t know if it’s enough to buy me a safe passage.’

  ‘That depends.’ Davey picked up the pouch and weighed it in his hand.

  ‘Grey is a good friend,’ Sarah said hastily. ‘You’d do it for next to nothing, wouldn’t you, Davey?’

  He shook his head. ‘My boat isn’t sturdy enough for a Channel crossing, but I’ve got contacts. Free traders who’ll do anything for the right amount of cash.’

  ‘Do you mean smugglers?’ She stared at him in horror. ‘Surely you aren’t mixed up with people like that?’

  ‘How d’you think we survive when the fish don’t run or the weather is too bad to put out to sea? We have to have an insurance against hard times, and much of it is stored in the crypt beneath the church.’
>
  ‘Do you mean that the vicar knows what’s going on?’

  He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Aye, and the squire and the schoolmaster too. Don’t tell me you didn’t know what went on here.’

  ‘Are you saying that my grandparents were aware of this free trading business?’ Grey demanded, giving him a searching look. ‘Have you any proof of that?’

  ‘The secret passage from your cellars to the church wasn’t put there for the glory of God.’

  ‘Well I’m damned,’ Grey said, chuckling. ‘And the family accused me of being the black sheep. I wonder if my uncle George is party to the illicit trade.’

  Sarah looked from one to the other in amazement. ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You’re talking about respectable people acting like criminals, risking imprisonment or even the death penalty.’

  Davey turned to her grinning. ‘If all the folks who’d had dealing with the free traders were found out there wouldn’t be enough jails to hold them.’

  ‘I’m sure Elsie didn’t take part in such goings on,’ Sarah said emphatically. ‘She wouldn’t.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Grey said, frowning. ‘All I can say is that the deals I did for her were all above board.’

  ‘We’re getting away from the point.’ Davey stowed the purse in his pocket. ‘I didn’t come here tonight to talk about smuggling.’

  ‘Then say what you’ve got to say and be done with it,’ Grey said impatiently.

  Sarah stared at him in dismay. ‘Don’t talk to Davey like that. He’s trying to help.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Hawkes. It’s just that the longer I’m here the more dangerous it becomes, especially for Sarah.’

  Davey’s jaw hardened. ‘You should have thought of that before you dragged her into this.’

  ‘Stop it, the pair of you.’ Sarah glared at each of them in turn. ‘You’re behaving like schoolboys.’

  ‘I came to tell you that the weather’s taken a turn for the worse, and it’ll be a few days before you can get away.’

  ‘What will we do in the meantime?’ Sarah turned to Grey with an anxious frown. ‘What if the police come here looking for you?’