Letters from Alice

by Petrina Banfield

  Alice appeared to weigh her words carefully before answering: ‘We shall have to get you settled somewhere first.’

  Charlotte frowned, her features stiffening. ‘She’s alright though?’

  Alice reassured her that she had paid a visit to Elizabeth and the infant a few days earlier and then added: ‘She is thriving.’

  The teenager expressed relief and went on to ask how long it would be before a reunion with her daughter could take place. There was a pause, and then Alice said: ‘I am working on it, Charlotte. I have identified somewhere for you to stay. You are to join the staff of a beautiful country house. As soon as we have a release date for you, we can make arrangements to take you up there.’

  Immediately ill at ease, Charlotte insisted that she could not possibly consider a placement away from home. ‘I told you before, I can’t go nowhere else. I’ve got to get home.’

  ‘You cannot go home, Charlotte. It is not possible.’

  The girl appeared distressed. She clasped her hair and began to pant. ‘I have to! I have to go back! You need to speak to me mum and dad again, please!’

  ‘I have, my love. Your mother will not hear of it. And even if I somehow managed to get her to agree to allowing you back, there is no way she would be willing to accept Daisy. And with your mother so fixed in her ideas, your father will most certainly not entertain the idea either.’

  ‘I know! I didn’t mean Daisy as well. I’d go back and just visit Daisy as much as I could, and they’d never need to know nothing about her.’

  The almoner shook her head, but then her eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t understand. I thought you desperately wanted to be with Daisy?’

  Charlotte burst into tears. ‘I do! But I can’t just leave!’

  The almoner glanced at Winnie and then back again. ‘Why not, Charlotte?’

  A wizened-looking middle-aged woman with thinning grey hair passed behind Alice and beckoned another patient over. The pair of them pulled a chest out from the hollow space beneath the stage and began taking out colourful costumes and frilly scarves. Alice eyed Winnie then led the trembling teenager to a quiet corner of the hall. She cleared her throat. ‘Charlotte, I have been speaking to Dr Harland.’ She paused. The girl clutched her hands in front of her. The almoner reached out and placed her hands over Charlotte’s. ‘I know about the –’ There was a pause, and then she added: ‘– the operation.’

  Charlotte flushed and cast her gaze downward. She responded in a small voice: ‘I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do.’

  Alice tilted her head. ‘It went horribly wrong?’

  Charlotte raised her gaze to meet the almoner’s. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘It was terrible. I was so panicked I thought I was going to die. I crawled to the Royal Free, and someone carried me in.’

  ‘And what happened there?’

  ‘I was in such a state. I could hardly breathe, but the doctor, he –’

  ‘Dr Harland?’

  Charlotte nodded. ‘He calmed me down and told me to meet him somewhere and – and –’ she said falteringly, ‘then he made it all go away.’

  Alice pressed her lips together and patted her hand. ‘It’s not an easy thing to admit to.’ There was a pause, and then the almoner ventured: ‘So you had never met the doctor before that day?’

  Charlotte shook her head.

  ‘He is not the older man we spoke of before? Daisy’s father?’

  The teenager looked at Alice with wide eyes. ‘No. He was kind to me. That’s the reason I sent Molly to him.’

  Alice dropped her hands down to her sides and stared at her. ‘Molly?’ she repeated. ‘Molly Rainham?’ Charlotte nodded. ‘You sent Molly to see Dr Harland?’

  On further questioning, the teenager admitted that she and Molly had been friends for a year or so before the young mother’s death. Molly had become anxious, according to Charlotte, after discovering that she had fallen pregnant.

  ‘It was not her husband’s child?’

  ‘Course it was. He came home on leave. But Molly said that he would have a fit of the vapours if he found out she was expecting again, ’cos they couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. That’s when I told her about Dr Harland helping me,’ Charlotte said tearfully. ‘And she went to see him.’

  Alice shot Winnie a look and then levelled her gaze, her eyes shining with intensity. ‘And he took her to his lodgings?’

  Charlotte shook her head. ‘No, no, that’s the thing. He refused to help her. He sent her away.’

  Winnie came closer at that moment, stopping when she was a couple of feet away. The almoner gave her a sidelong glance, then turned back to Charlotte: ‘And so Molly consulted with someone else?’

  ‘I dunno. I never saw her again after that. Next thing I heard, she’d been found dead.’ Charlotte’s lip wobbled. ‘And the poor baby too.’

  Alice gave a grave nod. At length she asked: ‘Can you tell me why you are so desperate to return home, Charlotte? It seems to me that you were not at all happy there.’ The teenager bit her lip and folded her arms tight against her chest. ‘Are you concerned about your brothers and sisters? Or perhaps your mother’s drinking?’

  Charlotte let out a high-pitched, humourless laugh that drew attention from one of the nurses. She put a hand to her mouth and then shook her head and looked at the almoner. ‘Mum’s not like that, honest. You just don’t know what she’s really like.’

  Alice took a step closer. ‘Tell me, then. Tell me what she’s like. Because as far as I can tell, there’s enough income going into your house to –’ Alice stopped. Her eyes widened, and then she began to nod. ‘Of course,’ she said suddenly. She shook her head. ‘I cannot believe it hadn’t occurred to me before.’

  Charlotte flushed. Winnie stared, her expression blank. Alice touched the teenager’s arm. ‘Your father, he is reliant?’

  The teenager looked away, but then gave a slow nod and began to cry again. Winnie rushed forward and put her arm around her. At some length, Charlotte admitted that her father was a heavy cocaine user. ‘That’s why Mum has to work so hard,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘Most of our money goes on the powder, and she has to do all sorts to make enough to buy food.’

  ‘Why did your mother not confide in me?’

  The teenager drew her forefingers across the rims of her eyes, sniffed and then said: ‘She was terrified someone would come and take the little ones away. She made me swear not to tell no one. You won’t do nothing awful, will you? Please say you won’t take them away!’

  Alice held up a hand. ‘We’re not monsters, Charlotte. Your parents will be offered advice and support, nothing more.’

  Charlotte seemed unsure. Winnie gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder, and she appeared to relax. Eventually she said: ‘I tried my best to help. That’s why I went to the studio. And that’s how I ended up meeting Molly.’

  Alice nodded, though her expression was blank. ‘The studio?’

  ‘I saw the adverts, see,’ Charlotte said, looking from the almoner to Winnie and back again. ‘I thought that if I had me photograph taken I had a better chance of being an actress. I knew if I could do that, my mum wouldn’t have to work so hard and everything wouldn’t be such a struggle.’

  Alice lifted her eyebrows. ‘Having photographs taken is an expensive business.’

  Charlotte shook her head. ‘Oh no, it didn’t cost me nothing. I put in for it after seeing the adverts. I got paid for having them done.’

  Alice looked at her. ‘Advertisements? For what? What sort of photographs are we talking about here?’

  Charlotte flushed and looked down at the floor. ‘It weren’t what I thought it would be! It was an advert asking for models. I thought it was a way to get me started on the stage. I f-felt awkward when I was told to undress. I didn’t like doing it, but I’d already promised the money to Mum and she was so relieved. She stands and irons all them clothes till I think she might faint on the spot. I couldn’t let her down, not when she was so de
sperate.’

  Alice glanced at Winnie, who pressed her lips together and gave a weary sigh. After a long moment of silence the almoner returned her attention to Charlotte and said: ‘Molly wanted to be an actress too?’

  Charlotte shook her head again. ‘No, no, she was there to get some tickets to sell.’

  ‘Tickets?’ The almoner’s brow furrowed. ‘I’m afraid you have lost me, Charlotte. Please start at the beginning and tell me everything.’ After careful questioning and lots of reassurance, Alice managed to elicit the details. Charlotte had first met Molly in the reception area of a photographic studio in Hampstead. They had chatted together while waiting to be seen and, despite their age difference, a friendship had blossomed between them.

  ‘She was so kind to me. Nicer than anyone I’d ever met before; like the big sister I’d always wished I could have.’

  Alice gave her a sad smile and then asked: ‘Did Molly divulge what she wanted the photographs for?’

  ‘She didn’t want photographs – I told you, she weren’t there for that. She told me she wanted to help raise some money for the hospital. She said someone there had been good to her after her baby was born and that she wanted to do something nice in return. She came to the studio to collect the tickets so she could sell them and help the sick children on the wards. There was another advert, see, asking for help with fundraising for the hospital.’

  The colour drained from Alice’s cheeks, but Charlotte appeared not to notice. She continued to gush about Molly’s generosity, her efforts to help others and her gentle nature. ‘She was good in that way. I never heard her say a bad thing about no one, but, oh my, when I told her about me posing in the nude and dancing for Mr Hargreaves, you should have heard her. She went absolutely stark, staring mad! I never went back to the studio after that.’

  Winnie and Alice exchanged glances, and then the almoner sprang to her feet.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  If any person over the age of sixteen years who has care of any child under the age of sixteen years, wilfully assaults, ill-treats, neglects, abandons, or exposes such child, or causes or procures such child to be exposed in a manner likely to cause such child unnecessary suffering, or injury to health (including mental derangement), that person shall be guilty of a misdemeanour.

  (C. S. Loch, How to Help Cases of Distress, 1895)

  Alice and Winnie returned to the Royal Free to find a police constable guarding the door of their basement office, hands clasped behind his back, the strap of his helmet pulled tightly against his chin. Another one of his blue-tunic colleagues was standing just inside the room, next to Frank, helmet under his arm. The officer at the door lifted a hand to bar their entrance, but Frank turned and motioned them in with a wave of his pipe.

  Alice sidestepped the detective with lowered eyes and moved towards Bess Campbell, who was sitting, quietly composed, behind her desk. Winnie, her double chin wobbling with intrigue, followed the almoner across the office with a breathless wheeze.

  When the new arrivals stopped at Bess’s desk, Frank turned back to face Alexander Hargreaves, who was seated behind his own. ‘So, as I was saying, Sir, I’d like you to step outside for a moment, if you would.’

  Alexander gave Bess Campbell a puzzled glance then looked up at Frank. ‘And as I told you, Frank, I have far too much to do. Go and fetch that silly man from the mortuary if you want to play one of your childish games.’

  Frank lifted an eyebrow. ‘So be it,’ he said, turning around and gesturing one of the constables over with a small nod of his head.

  The constable donned his domed helmet and stepped forward. Standing to attention with his chin tilted upwards, he cleared his throat and said: ‘Alexander Hargreaves, I am arresting you on suspicion of the indecent assault of several women, including a fifteen-year-old girl, Charlotte Redbourne.’ The constable proceeded to read the fundraiser his rights.

  When the officer had fallen silent and stepped back to his post at the door, Alexander snickered softly and shook his head. ‘Good heavens, man,’ he said, addressing Frank. He rose from his chair and stepped elegantly around his desk, perching on the edge and linking his hands on top of his lap. He surveyed the detective with a sneering smile. ‘Is there no level to which you will not stoop for a moment’s entertainment?’

  Frank took a drag on his pipe and then cupped the polished bowl in the palm of his hand. ‘As I informed you a moment ago, Sir, I am a detective with the Metropolitan Police’s Criminal Investigation Department. I can assure you, this is not a joke.’

  A frisson passed over the room. Winnie turned from Frank to Alice and Bess Campbell and then back again, her jaw gaping. Alexander stood up, placed his hands at his slim hips and eyed Frank contemptuously. ‘And I told you, I’m not one to fall for such a ridiculous stunt, whatever lengths you may have gone to.’

  Frank grinned and flashed his warrant card in front of him. ‘Oh, how readily you accepted me as a bumbling fool, Alex. It’s what we’d been banking on all along.’

  Alexander’s expression faltered for a moment, but then he looked down his nose at the detective. ‘I am to believe that you have been entrusted with investigating cases of impropriety? And yet you have not more than a couple of brain cells to rub together.’

  Frank dipped his head. ‘If you say so. But imbecile or not, I am still bestowed with powers of arrest.’

  There was a pause and then Alexander drawled: ‘I have no knowledge of the incidents to which you refer.’ His tone was unconcerned.

  ‘Well, we’ll go to the Yard and see what we can do about establishing your innocence there.’

  Alexander grasped the lapels of his jacket in the manner of a barrister addressing a jury. ‘My only misconduct has been the neglect I have shown other areas of my life in deference to the generosity with which I have managed the appeals of this and many other hospitals,’ he intoned, his chest puffed out. ‘I have worked tirelessly through the years to ensure that each establishment is furnished with the very latest equipment necessary to keep them at the forefront of medical excellence. Do you have any idea what sort of position half the voluntary hospitals in this city would be in were it not for my contributions over the years?’

  Frank delivered a slow clap. ‘Another of your speeches delivered with aplomb, Alex, but I’m afraid, this time, it just won’t wash. Your goose is now well and truly cooked, and in my opinion, you should consider yourself lucky that you’ve managed to evade the law for as long as you have.’

  There was a pause and then Alexander said in a silky tone: ‘Need I point out the precariousness of your position, Frank? Accusing someone like me of such debauchery is a hazardous business. Careers have been ruined for far less.’

  ‘Not debauchery, Sir,’ the detective returned crisply. ‘These are cases of indecent assault.’ Frank proceeded to summarise the facts of the case and confirmed that during the course of his investigation he had managed to track down a number of women and girls who were willing to testify that they had been persuaded to perform lewd dances in a state of undress.

  ‘Damn your impudence! Those malicious, sordid rumours have been circulating for years. No one but an oaf would pay them any heed!’ Beginning to lose his composure, Alexander stroked a hand over his oiled hair and looked appealingly at Bess Campbell. A moment later, his hand fell to his side. ‘You knew about this?’ he said scathingly.

  Winnie goggled down at her boss, her jaw hanging down to her chest. The Head Almoner gave a small nod. ‘I agreed to Frank’s appointment, but only with the intention of clearing the name of someone I thought to be most honourable. I can honestly say, Alexander, that I have never been so thoroughly disappointed in anyone in all my life.’

  The fundraiser’s mouth dropped open. His cheeks flushed red with anger, but he recovered quickly. ‘No matter,’ he said, brushing at the lapel of his jacket with elegant fingers. ‘These are preposterous allegations,’ he said, his eyes on Frank. ‘And I refuse to be spoken to in such a way by some
half-wit who barely knows his left from his right.’

  ‘All of us are subject to the law, Alex,’ Frank said. ‘However lofty our manner.’

  Alexander’s mouth hardened into a tight slant. ‘A word to the wise,’ he said quietly, his face close to Frank’s. ‘Those who dabble in the affairs of someone in my position may find a whole house of cards tumbling down around their ears. You do realise, don’t you, that I am a magistrate, as well as a major fundraiser and philanthropist?’

  Frank dipped his head. ‘I do indeed. And in my humble opinion, concealing your foul deeds in a cloak of righteousness compounds your crimes and makes you a hypocrite as well as a pervert.’

  Alexander’s mouth opened and closed several times. When he’d recovered he said: ‘I shall be lodging a complaint with your superior first thing in the morning. I know him well, as it happens.’

  ‘By all means, Sir. I’ll make arrangements for someone to bring a notepad and pen to your cell.’

  The fundraiser’s face turned puce. ‘This is absolutely ludicrous! I may have taken some photographs of a few hussies here and there, but I never laid a finger on a single one of them. They were right little pieces anyway! Filthy strumpets entirely lacking in morals, and not one of them was what you would call truly bedworthy. They were of no more value to me than common whores.’

  Peter Harland stepped forward out of the shadows at that moment, his uneven mouth clamped in a tight line. Alice and Winnie exchanged glances. Frank held out a warning hand towards the doctor without turning around. Alexander stared at him. ‘You?’ he said scornfully. ‘What has this to do with you?’

  The doctor declined to answer. Frank turned and gave the constable by the door a small nod. He stepped forward, but Alexander backed away. ‘Ask any of my colleagues,’ he said in a rush. ‘They will vouch for my integrity and my good name.’ He turned expectantly, first one way and then the other. The air crackled with an uncomfortable silence. ‘Winnie?’ he said eventually, his eyes settling on her. The typist turned her head away. Humiliation brought another angry flush to Alexander’s cheeks. His eyes flicked to her left. ‘Alice?’