The Workhouse Girl

by Dilly Court

  ‘And they didn’t find the body,’ Sarah added, smiling for the first time that day. ‘Grey would be pleased about that if only he knew. Parker did a good job of covering his tracks.’

  ‘But will Mrs Trigg let matters lie?’ Davey opened the lychgate. ‘She’s not the sort to give up easily.’

  Moorcroft stood aside to allow Nettie and Sarah to pass. ‘That woman will almost certainly be sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. When she gets out she’ll have to survive by her wits. I don’t think she’ll trouble us again.’

  ‘And what about George Fitch?’ Nettie asked anxiously. ‘Do you think he’ll contest Elsie’s will?’

  ‘I’m quite certain that he’ll also spend a considerable time in prison, and his house in Spital Square is heavily mortgaged, I know that for a fact. I imagine that his wife will have to sell up and live modestly or return to her family. George won’t have much to look forward to when he’s released, and that’s only if he survives life behind bars.’

  ‘I almost feel sorry for him,’ Sarah said, slipping her hand into Davey’s as they walked side by side.

  ‘Well, I don’t. Even if he is my uncle I don’t want anything to do with him.’ Nettie smiled up at Moorcroft. ‘We’re going to be a proper family, aren’t we, Pa?’

  ‘Of course we are, my dear. And that’s another thing I want to talk to you about, Nettie.’

  ‘Really, Pa? What is it?’

  Walking behind them, Sarah squeezed Davey’s hand. ‘I think I know what he’s going to say.’

  He gave her a smile that sent her heart fluttering inside her chest. ‘I love you, you clever girl.’

  She laid her finger on her lips. ‘Shh. Not now.’

  ‘Definitely later.’

  ‘Yes, definitely.’

  Nettie uttered a whoop of glee. ‘Oh, you are a one, Pa. I should have seen it coming.’ She stopped, turning to Sarah with a wide grin. ‘He’s going to ask Mrs Arbuthnot to marry him. What do you think of that?’

  Later, when the guests had left, weaving their somewhat tipsy way home, Sarah and Nettie were in the kitchen amongst piles of dirty glasses and crockery. They had sent Mrs Arbuthnot to her room to rest after her labours, and Mary was keeping an eye on the score as the boys played a rather soggy game of cricket with Davey and Moorcroft on the lawn, which was now neatly cropped by the goat, although it had also munched on all the woody plants and shrubs within its reach.

  ‘What do you really think about Moorcroft wanting to marry Mrs Arbuthnot?’ Sarah asked as she poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘Does it upset you to know that he’s fallen in love?’

  Nettie sat down at the table, making a space amongst the detritus left by the wake and resting her elbows on the wooden surface. ‘No, not at all. He deserves to be happy after the life he’s had. I’d be a mean bitch to deny him that, and I’m just glad to know that I’ve got a dad who cares about me. That won’t change when he marries Sophia.’

  ‘If she accepts him.’ Sarah stirred the pot and left the tea to brew. She searched the dresser for clean cups. ‘So will you live here and become lady of the manor?’

  ‘It’s all happened so quickly, Sarah. Yesterday I was just Nettie Bean with a walk-on part in a big London production, but now I’m Nanette Fitch, heiress to a bloody fortune and I’m responsible for this house and goodness knows how many acres of grounds. Worse still, half the village seems to think I’m a bigwig and they’ll want me to wet-nurse them. That’s not the life for me. I want excitement and glamour. I want to breathe in the smell of greasepaint and smoky old London with its overflowing sewers and rotten rubbish. I don’t like fresh country air and the stink of cow shit.’

  ‘You still want to be an actress?’ Sarah could hardly believe her ears. This old house and its grounds and indeed the whole way of country living was, she realised now, her idea of heaven. She would always be a Londoner at heart, but if she could live and work in Blackwood she would be happy to return to the city for long visits. She poured the tea into two cracked and chipped cups that she found at the back of the shelf. ‘Here’s your tea.’ She stared at Nettie, angling her head as a sudden thought struck her. ‘I suppose your urgent wish to return to London wouldn’t have anything to do with a handsome Frenchman, would it?’

  Nettie’s cheeks bloomed pink and she snatched the cup from Sarah’s hand. ‘I dunno who you mean.’

  Sarah pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘Come on, Nettie Bean. This is me you’re talking to. I mean Gaston Fournier, of course. He lives and works in London, doesn’t he?’

  ‘I think so.’ Nettie sipped her tea, refusing to look Sarah in the eye. ‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact he does.’

  ‘And you’ve seen him again?’

  ‘He came to the theatre during rehearsals and we went for supper afterwards. Where’s the harm in that?’

  Sarah chuckled. ‘You’re blushing, Nettie. You like him, don’t you? What happened during that trip home from France? Did you get to know him very well?’

  ‘I dunno what you mean.’ Nettie pushed the cup away and stood up. ‘I’m going to find Parker. He can clear this lot up. I’m the lady of the house now.’ She flounced out of the kitchen, leaving Sarah on her own amidst the chaos.

  She finished her tea, rolled up her sleeves and went outside into the yard to fetch water from the pump.

  ‘Here, let me do that.’

  She turned with a start as Davey took the bucket from her. ‘You’ll have to work the handle,’ he said ruefully. ‘I feel like a cripple with a useless arm.’

  She pumped valiantly and water splashed into the bucket. ‘It will get better, and anyway you haven’t got a boat at the moment so you can’t go back to sea.’

  ‘That’s not exactly true,’ he said mysteriously. ‘Whoa, that’s enough.’

  She released the handle. ‘What’s not true?’

  Davey carried the overflowing bucket into the scullery and emptied it into the sink. ‘Is there any hot water in the boiler?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, but I’ll fetch it when you’ve told me what’s going on. Why the mystery?’

  ‘There’s no mystery, my love. Mr Moorcroft had a chat with me while we were waiting for Jonah to find the ball that I’d lobbed into the shrubbery. Not bad for a one-armed batsman.’

  ‘You’re being deliberately annoying, Davey Hawkes. What did he say?’

  ‘He’s offered to lend me the money to fix the boat up, and I’m to repay him out of my earnings. I should be fit enough to take it to sea by the time the work is finished. Then I can ask you to marry me.’ He frowned. ‘What’s the matter, Sarah? You don’t look too pleased. Isn’t that what you want?’

  ‘Of course it is, but not yet. I told you that I want to qualify as a pharmacist so that I can continue the work that Elsie started and do it properly. I want to help people and they need me here in the village. Old Mrs Perks told me that today after the funeral, and it made my mind up for me. You do understand, don’t you?’

  ‘We’ve been here before, Sarah. I’m not sure that I do know what you want. Isn’t being my wife going to be enough for you? It’s what most women settle for.’

  She leaned against the stone sink, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘That’s just it, Davey. I don’t want to settle for anything. I’ll never be happy to spend my days cooking, cleaning and washing clothes in the stream with the other village women.’

  ‘You’ve been mixing with the toffs and it’s given you ideas above your station. You don’t want to marry a humble fisherman.’

  She shook her head vehemently. ‘No, that’s not it at all, but I saw what poverty and hard physical labour did to my mother. I watched the life ebb from her body that was worn out with childbearing, and I vowed then that it wouldn’t happen to me. Elsie showed me another way, Davey.’

  ‘So you don’t love me enough to marry me?’

  ‘Of course I love you. I always have, since that first day on the seashore when you rescued me from the crab. I want to be your wife
, but I don’t see why I can’t have both. If you will just give me time . . .’

  He threw up his hands with an impatient sigh. ‘How long do you want? A month, a year or even longer? We’ll be old and grey before you make up your mind.’

  She laid her hand on his arm. ‘We’re very young, Davey. I’m not sure how long it would take me to become qualified, but I’ve done my apprenticeship with Elsie. Would a year be too long? Do you love me enough to wait for a year?’

  He hesitated, looking deeply into her eyes, and his expression softened. ‘If you promise that you’ll give me your answer a year from now, then I suppose I can wait.’

  That evening after a supper of rabbit stew and an apple pie baked by Mrs Arbuthnot who was rediscovering the pleasure of cooking that she had learned as a young bride, the children were sent to bed and everyone else, with the exception of Parker who chose to go for a moonlight walk and smoke his briar pipe, gathered round the fire in the drawing room.

  ‘I want you all to know that I’m going back to London on the first train tomorrow morning,’ Nettie said firmly. ‘I’ll lose my part in the show if I don’t turn up for rehearsals.’

  Mrs Arbuthnot raised her delicate eyebrows. ‘But my dear, don’t you want to remain here and enjoy being the mistress of this wonderful house?’

  Nettie shook her head. ‘I’ve spoken to Pa about it and he agrees with me.’ She looked to Moorcroft, who smiled benignly.

  ‘Yes, Sophia. Nettie and I had a long chat before supper and she wants to follow her chosen career.’

  ‘Yes, I understand that,’ Mrs Arbuthnot said with a worried frown. ‘But surely the stage is not the life for a young woman of substance?’

  Moorcroft reached out to hold her hand. ‘The theatrical world is becoming quite respectable and some young women have even married into the aristocracy.’

  ‘And others have gone down a completely different path.’ Sophia did not look convinced. She sighed. ‘I suppose you will do precisely what you want to do, Nettie.’

  ‘What about Davey and the children?’ Sarah tossed another log on the fire, watching the sparks ignite the soot on the chimney back and wishing she could see into the future. ‘What’s going to happen to Blackwood House?’

  Nettie shrugged her shoulders. ‘They can stay here for as long as they like. Parker will carry on as usual. I don’t see why anything should change.’

  Moorcroft glanced at Mrs Arbuthnot and she nodded in response. ‘We’ve already discussed this, Nettie. As I’m soon to be your stepmother I was hoping that you would allow me to stay on here.’

  ‘You want to bury yourself in the country?’ Nettie stared as her as if she had lost her senses. ‘Are you sure, ma’am?’

  ‘It would be wonderful to get away from Shadwell. I was born in the country, Nettie, and I suppose I’ll always be a country woman at heart. I moved to London when I married James, but I’ve always longed for a different way of life.’

  ‘And you, sir?’ Sarah said, turning to Moorcroft. ‘Do you plan to live here too? What about your law firm?’

  Until this moment Bertram had remained slightly apart from those gathered round the fire, but he now rose to his feet and came to stand behind his brother’s chair. ‘I can answer that, Sarah. Martin has seen fit to make me the senior partner.’

  ‘And I will remain in London until I am certain that everything is working as it should,’ Moorcroft added, smiling. ‘Then I will set up a practice in Maldon or Colchester. Sophia and I plan to marry as soon as my affairs are settled.’ He covered her hand with his. ‘We are at a stage in life when every moment counts. I see no reason for a long engagement.’

  Nettie clapped her hands. ‘And I’ll visit you every now and then.’ She turned to Sarah. ‘And what about you? Are you and Davey going to tie the knot?’

  Sarah flinched, uncomfortably aware that all eyes were upon her, including Davey’s. She was about to speak but he silenced her with a tender smile. ‘We’ve decided to wait for a year so that Sarah can complete her studies and take the examination set by the Society of Apothecaries.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Sarah said eagerly. ‘But I want to practise here in Blackwood.’ Her smile faded. ‘The only problem is that I will have to live in London and study at Bart’s or the Middlesex hospital, if they’ll accept me on their course. I’ve already done my apprenticeship with Elsie, so it shouldn’t be a problem.’

  ‘Then what is to prevent you?’ Mrs Arbuthnot moved closer to Moorcroft. ‘You know that I love you like a daughter, Sarah. Is there anything I can do to help?’

  ‘I’ll need to live somewhere, ma’am. I have no money and I’ll have to find work to support myself.’

  ‘I’ll send you funds,’ Davey said stoutly. ‘As soon as my boat is seaworthy I’ll be able to earn my own living.’

  Mrs Arbuthnot held up her hand. ‘It’s simpler than that, Davey. Martin is going to move from Islington to my house in Elbow Lane. Sarah can keep him company and I suggest that you should live there too, Nettie. You are very young to live in digs where you might be subjected to all manner of temptations.’

  Nettie pulled a face. ‘I think I can look after myself, ma’am, but thank you all the same.’

  ‘Very well, my dear, but the offer is open to you at any time.’

  ‘And as your father I might have something to say about where and how you live, my girl.’ Moorcroft’s eyes shone with amusement and he blew her a kiss. ‘You look so much like your mother when you pout, Nettie. But I intend to make certain that no one, not even my friend Gaston Fournier, takes advantage of you.’

  Nettie’s cheeks flamed scarlet. ‘Oh, Pa!’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  LEAVING BLACKWOOD HOUSE and those she loved most in the world was harder than Sarah had anticipated, but she knew that she owed it to herself and to Elsie to finish her education and to qualify as an apothecary in her own right.

  She moved into the house in Elbow Lane with Cook and Betty to look after her, although she did her fair share of the housework as Dorcas was now married to her Walter and living in a tiny terraced house in Plaistow. Moorcroft also moved in and Nettie visited as often as performances at the theatre allowed, although she refused to give up the new digs she had found closer to the theatre. Sarah suspected that this had something to do with Gaston, but refrained from comment as Nettie was adamant that her sole aim in life was to become the toast of London.

  Although she had missed Dorcas’s nuptials, Sarah was able to attend the wedding of Miss Parfitt and Franz Beckman. Mrs Arbuthnot travelled up to London for the occasion and Nettie managed to get to the ceremony. Even so Gaston had to whisk her away in his private chaise before the wedding breakfast in order to get to the theatre on time as she now had a speaking part. It was only a few lines but Nettie was confident that this was the start of a glittering career. Sarah could only hope that she was not deluding herself, and she could see similarities between Nettie and Elsie which made her fear for the future. They shared an intensity of purpose and a zest for life that could lead to huge success or dismal failure and self-destruction. But there was the strong possibility that Gaston, the pragmatic Frenchman, would keep Nettie from the excesses and dependence on opium that had almost inevitably led to her mother’s tragic death.

  Backed by Moorcroft, Sarah enrolled in the school of chemistry at Bart’s and studied for the exam that would give her a professional qualification. She soon found that Elsie had taught her well, and that she had a natural aptitude for the subject. Miss Parfitt, now Mrs Beckman, was delighted to give her extra tuition in mathematics and Sarah spent many pleasant evenings in the Beckmans’ comfortable home close to the sugar mill in St George’s Place where Franz was the head sugar baker.

  Whenever possible Sarah accompanied Moorcroft on his weekly visits to Blackwood House, and each time she was delighted to see the improvements that Mrs Arbuthnot had made. Moorcroft handled the business side of the estate and with Parker’s help had hired gardeners and grounds
men. The rents from the farms and cottages were now collected by a bailiff who saw to it that the tenants were fairly treated and the money was used to improve the property and invest in new machinery for the home farm.

  At the end of the autumn during one of their monthly visits, the discussion after dinner turned to a new threshing machine that Moorcroft had bought for the home farm. Steam power was the coming thing, he stated with great enthusiasm. He admitted that he had invested a considerable amount of money in a company that manufactured these machines. ‘There is no limit to what steam power can achieve,’ he said proudly. ‘In fact, I’m thinking of investing more money and building a manufactory for the sole purpose of making farm machinery. Inventors are coming up with new ideas all the time.’ He danced Mrs Arbuthnot round the drawing room. ‘And we must be married before the month is out, Sophia. I’m tired of waiting.’ He glanced over his shoulder at Sarah who was openly enjoying the spectacle of two middle-aged people cavorting like children. ‘Maybe I’ll build a steam-powered vessel for you, Davey. You would be able to catch several times the amount of fish and you’d be set up for life. You could start with one such boat and when you made enough money you could buy another – soon you’d have a whole fleet.’

  Davey slid his arm around Sarah, holding her close. ‘What do you say to that, sweetheart? Would that bring our wedding day any closer?’

  She rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I’m taking my exam at the end of the year. Pearl thinks that I’ve a good chance of passing.’

  ‘That’s not an answer, my love.’

  Moorcroft came to a halt in front of them. ‘Put the poor boy out of his misery, Sarah. We all know that you’ll qualify, and if you fail I’ll go in person to the examination board and demand to know the reason why.’

  Mrs Arbuthnot sat down, smiling breathlessly. ‘I’ll marry you when the harvest is in, Martin. I can’t say fairer than that.’ She turned to Sarah, raising an eyebrow. ‘Martin is right, my dear. You’ll pass with flying colours. I think it’s high time you named the day.’