So it was agreed, and one fellow went off to make a new lock as the others smashed the old one to gain entry.
The men threw open the shutters and the light spilled in and lit up the dust motes floating lazily in the stale air. Doors were propped open and the workers wandered around as Wally tried to decide where they should begin.
‘I thought this was an old factory,’ Wally said, ‘but now I think it may have been a shop.’ He heard mutters of agreement as he too wandered from room to room.
The main room was massive and a door led into a huge kitchen and scullery. A water standpipe stood in the yard at the back. Further back still was the privy in its own brick building. Another door led from the shop area onto living quarters, from which a staircase led to three bedrooms.
Wally Webb smiled as he meandered around the place; this would keep them busy for a while. One thing for certain was Cara Flowers wouldn’t recognize the place once they’d finished with it.
Taking out a small notebook and pencil, Wally licked the lead and proceeded to make notes of the jobs which the men called out needed to be done.
‘Chimneys need pointing and sweeping’, shouted one.
‘A couple of window frames need replacing,’ yelled another.
‘Shutter hinges could do with oiling,’ from a third.
‘New curtains for the bedrooms… Hopefully some of the women can help out on that score…’
‘The whole place could do with sweeping, cleaning and painting…’
Wally’s little notebook filled rapidly with tasks to be accomplished and he nodded as he saw the finished building in his mind’s eye.
One man was set to fix the range in the kitchen, another worked the standpipe to get clean water flowing. Yet another was sent for supplies for their midday meal and to make a good strong cup of tea. The work had begun and Wally took measurements for bedroom curtains in the hope one of the wives would oblige in the making of them. He thought the older kids would tidy the yard and help with window washing, in exchange for a bag of boiled sweets from Teddy Grey’s Confectionery Shop. Wally settled to his work comfortably and his excitement grew as he imagined Cara’s face on her first visit to the newly renovated building. He prayed silently she would be pleased, and although his heart told him she would be delighted, a prayer sent upstairs would most certainly help, he thought. What Cara would do then with the property was anyone’s guess.
Twenty
Charlie Flowers sat next to Cara and eyed the official-looking man sat in the chair opposite.
Cara said, ‘This is Mr Purcell, from the Board of Guardians.’
‘What’s he want?’ Charlie asked, trying to be brave. He was suspicious about what was expected of him and he felt most uncomfortable under the man’s gaze. He knew the man was associated with the workhouse, and the dread of waking from what he thought might have been a dream and being hauled back there haunted him still.
‘I’d like you to tell him about your time in the workhouse and your treatment at the hands of Fred and Ada Tulley.’ She urged him to be honest and omit nothing, assuring him he would never again be taken into anyone else’s care. ‘You are my brother, Charlie and I love you dearly, so please don’t be afraid.’ She watched as the boy drew in a deep breath. She felt nervous enough for both of them.
Doing as he was bid, Charlie’s eyes locked with those of the Chairman as he shared the truth of life in the workhouse.
Purcell listened with surprise, which he kept carefully hidden. He knew the workhouse was no paradise, nor could it be, but he hadn’t realized it was as bad as the boy was saying. Was this boy telling the truth? Or was he lying to please his sister? Had they hatched this between them to put the workhouse in a bad light? Were the Tulleys really as bad as the boy was making out? He put these questions to the back of his mind as he listened, he could think about them at a later time.
When Charlie had finished, Cara praised him. ‘Well done, Charlie, thank you. Now, you can return to the kitchen and ask Gracie for some cake and milk.’ Charlie didn’t need to be told twice.
Joseph Purcell drew in a long breath and let it out again slowly.
‘So, Mr Purcell, you now see why I have to accomplish what I set out to do,’ Cara said with confidence.
Joseph’s eyebrows furrowed as he said, ‘I’m sure you realize that the problem stretches further than the workhouse. There is poverty all over the town and whilst there is such poverty there will be a need for a workhouse.’
‘My initial aim was to get those people away from the dire conditions they were existing in…’ Joseph noted she had not said ‘living in’. Cara went on, ‘I wanted to give them back their dignity, a home, a purpose in life once more! I know there will be others who will be forced to enter that place out of sheer desperation and… and…’ Her words trailed off as her eyes filled with frustrated tears she had willed not to come.
‘Cara, please don’t distress yourself,’ Joseph said as he reached out and touched her hand which lay on her knee. It was distasteful to him to be touching this young woman in such a tender fashion, but he felt it was necessary to a point. He needed to glean as much information as he could about her future plans, and whether they would affect him in his capacity of Chairman of the Board of Guardians. Above all, he intended to watch his own back. Therefore if holding her hand helped, then he would do it. She was plotting something and he wanted to know what it was.
Martin Lander saw the movement and a lance of pain shot through him. Was this man making a move on his girl? But then Cara Flowers was not his girl, she was his client. Nonetheless, Martin’s dislike of the Chairman grew in an instant.
‘Mr Purcell,’ Cara began, ‘I can’t do it all! I can’t do anything about the town’s poverty, at least not quickly enough! The best I can do is help those most in need. I cannot find a cure, I can only treat the symptoms.’ Cara could hear her own desperation in the words. She knew she was becoming agitated and battled her emotions threatening to spill out.
Purcell nodded, saying, ‘Martin has given his help to your cause, I believe. What else can be done?’
Cara’s demeanour changed in an instant. She gave him the most beautiful smile as she won control of the tears she had felt so close to falling and said firmly, ‘The Workhouse can be closed down!’
*
Martin Lander fumed as he made his way home to Alice Street. He thought Joseph Purcell had wormed his way into Cara’s affections… and in one day! How could this be? He, Martin, had spent the better part of his time aiding Cara with her quests and had lost his job into the bargain! In a mere few hours, Purcell had managed to get onside. Blast the man! Scowling, Martin stomped through the streets taking his anger out on the cobbles.
The summer was drawing to a close and as he sat by his fire in the tiny living room, Martin determined to watch Purcell closely, he had no intentions of allowing the man to get close to Cara. He knew he had to be very careful, however, for Joseph Purcell was still the Magistrate of the town, which meant they could cross paths frequently in court. If Purcell took a dislike to him, he could lose his cases, as well as the clients who employed him. Nevertheless, his main aim was to protect Cara and her interests.
Magistrate or not, Martin would not allow the man to sweeten his way into courtship with Cara. She must be warned of what Martin saw as Purcell’s romantic intentions, and he must be the one to inform her. Gazing into the fire, he turned the situation over in his mind. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset the girl. He didn’t want her to think he was out to cause trouble. So how should he go about this? Sometimes he felt Cara was too innocent for her own good and one day it would come back on her. Would this be that one time? Not if he had anything to do with it, it wouldn’t!
Martin heard again the words discussed in the parlour at The Laburnums; he saw again Purcell’s hand touch Cara’s and he suddenly realized she had not pulled away from that touch. Surely she couldn’t have feelings for the man after one brief meeting? Besides, Pu
rcell must be at least twenty years her senior. The thought disgusted Martin as he slammed his cup onto its saucer. Was Purcell looking to coax the innocent young woman into his bed? What if he accomplished that? Would he then just leave her to her own devices having got what he wanted? What if she should become pregnant? Would he cast her aside like an old rag?
Martin paced his living room, drawing his hands through his hair. It didn’t bear thinking about. What he did have to consider was whether he should warn Cara Flowers precisely what Purcell had on his mind!
*
All now gathered in the kitchen, Cara related the discussions to Molly and Gracie.
‘Christ Cara!’ Gracie said. ‘You have to be sensible! You don’t really think that man is going to allow himself to be put out of the job of Chairman, do you?’ The cook shook her head at Cara’s innocence.
‘Well…’ Suddenly it dawned on her. She hadn’t stopped to consider that fact, so incensed had she been earlier at the injustice of it all.
‘He won’t, you know…’ Molly added. ‘And he won’t put the other Board members out of work either.’
‘Oh my God! What have I done?’ Cara wailed dropping into a chair. ‘He’s fully aware of my plans now!’ Panic gripped her as she realized her folly.
‘The saving grace…’ Gracie said sympathetically, ‘…is that he can’t stop you getting folk out of that place, as far as I can tell. He might refuse you visiting, but people can still sign themselves out.’
‘So we would need to get a message in to say how many we need to come out… but first we need more housing! Oh Gracie, this is madness… there has to be another way!’ Cara was in a state; she stood and paced the floor.
‘Well, when you want a message taking, I can do it,’ Charlie said simply.
‘No Charlie, it would be far too dangerous,’ Cara replied.
‘It ain’t, I can climb up the wall and tell the men, then they could be ready for your call.’ The boy grinned.
‘We’ll see,’ Cara smiled at her courageous brother.
‘Oooh our mum used to say that when she meant yes, didn’t she, Charlie?’ Daisy said, not taking her eyes from the doll she was playing with on the table. The boy nodded, his eyes clouded at being reminded of their mother. Daisy’s words had been said in all innocence, but Charlie couldn’t shake the sadness that he was feeling of still not knowing where his mother was, or even whether she was still alive.
He wondered what was happening about Cara finding their parents, so he said,
“Cara, I was wondering about our mum… about how we can find her.”
“Oh sweetheart, I’m not sure yet. Mr. Colley the Registrar telephoned to say he was still searching his records. There must be an awful lot to look through as it seems to be taking a long time. As soon as I hear anything I’ll let you know right away.” Cara’s heart went out to him as he nodded sadly.
‘All right,’ Cara went on, ‘but first we need to sort out housing for these men. The work won’t be a problem, I have some ideas about that.’
‘Right,’ Gracie chimed in, setting the kettle to boil, ‘tea has always been good brain food!’
*
Joseph Purcell made a detour on his way home from The Laburnums. His carriage rumbled down Brook Street, where he chatted a while with the new residents. Then he did the same in Chapel Street and Hare Street. Asking about the large building the men were working on, he was not surprised when they politely told him to mind his own business.
The men and women adored the young woman who had saved them and their families from a life of hardship and drudgery in the ‘Spike’. They would not tolerate her being talked about.
Purcell smiled as he rode home in his big black carriage. Bilston, it seemed, had its very own Florence Nightingale!
Stepping from the carriage, Joseph looked up at his own house. Not nearly as grand as The Laburnums, but he felt it more than adequate for a man living alone save for his servants. Brueton House sat in its own gardens and was situated between James Street and Lewis Street; a rather select area. The house was large with three bedrooms and servants quarters. A living room, parlour, kitchen and scullery made up the ground floor. It would soon sport an indoor lavatory.
The maid opened the front door, saying she would bring his tea immediately. Purcell nodded his thanks and walked to the parlour. Sitting before the fire, he let his thoughts roam.
Cara Flowers was intent on seeing the workhouse closed and she was making progress, albeit slow. He knew as fast as people were leaving the workhouse, others were taking their places. However, considerably more people were leaving than entering. He could not, in all honesty, see her succeeding in this quest she had set herself, but he had to admire her tenacity. She was like a terrier worrying at a bone.
His position of Chairman of the Board of Guardians would not be a great loss to him if it were taken away; he would still be the Magistrate for the town. Having said that, he enjoyed the perks of the job like the meals and wine that Mrs Tulley provided, as well as the extra money paid by way of salary. Then again, the time taken up by that position was proving to be a drain, especially with the emergency meetings having to be called. Damn Tulley and his wife!
Joseph returned his thoughts to the delightful Miss Flowers and her eyes which sparkled like blue diamonds. He had to admit he was rather taken with her as far as her spirit was concerned. Never having found anyone he cared to take as a wife, Purcell suddenly realized that could well change. Cara would make excellent marriage material if he could tame her wild side, and… she had money – lots of it!
The young woman had not spurned him when he laid his hand on hers, he noted, which said she might be willing to consider a courtship, possibly a proposal of marriage – all in good time of course. The more pressing matter, however, was her fight against the workhouse remaining in use. As he mulled this over in his mind he came to the conclusion that if he did not manage to get his hands on her money through marriage, then he fully intended to keep his position as Chairman of the Board and the prestige and perks that went along with it. Therefore, his problem now was finding ways of, at the very least, stalling Cara Flowers’ efforts.
*
Autumn began to spread her wondrous cloak over the land, turning everything to shades of golden brown and red. Crows cawed constantly in the trees as they fought for the best position within the branches. The sun still shone down but there was a slight chill in the air as Cara walked across the town to Martin Lander’s office. She realized that she had not spoken to him in almost a week, which was unusual, and so she had packed a lunch basket in the hope of sharing a picnic with him. All too soon the winter would set in and eating alfresco would be out of the question.
Cara thought Martin appeared a little offhand as she entered his office. He had merely looked up, and had not greeted her with the smile she had expected. He seemed very flustered and was shuffling papers around on his desk.
‘I thought we might eat a picnic together,’ she said.
‘I am extremely busy, I’m not sure if I can take the time,’ he answered, but then felt wretched as he saw her disappointed face. Relenting, he grabbed his jacket and, carrying the basket for her, they left Earle Street and walked up Broad Street and onto The Crescent.
Finding a spot on the heathland that bordered the street, they sat to enjoy their food.
‘Martin, I feel I have been such a fool,’ Cara said out of the blue. ‘I gave away all my intentions to Joseph Purcell in the hope he may be able to help me. I am so sorry!’ Tiny tears lined her lashes as she looked at the man who had been such a help to her.
So, Cara had seen sense, but was it too late?
Martin grasped her hand in his and squeezed it gently. Her fingers returned the gesture and Martin’s heart skipped a beat.
‘Cara,’ he said softly, ‘Joseph Purcell does not appear to be as helpful as he seemed, but we can beat him and the workhouse, we just have to continue to work together. You have to be aware though
, he has set his sights on you.’
‘Oh Martin, thank you! I knew you would understand.’ Cara beamed at the man still holding her hand. She was so relieved he had forgiven her stupidity, she completely ignored the rest of his sentence. However her mouth dropped open at his next words.
‘Cara Flowers, would you consent to step out with me? Will you be my sweetheart?’
Cara considered his words carefully before giving him her answer. Did she want to be Martin’s sweetheart? Did she want to walk out with him? Did she want the world knowing they were an item? Did she love him? She wasn’t sure she did but felt she could in time. Certainly Martin Lander could be seen as the catch of the century.
Drawing in a deep breath, she whispered, ‘Yes Martin, I will step out with you.’
Martin was delighted, his grin stretching from ear to ear. As she watched him pack away the remains of the picnic, she hoped she had made the right decision.
He chatted on about his work as they returned to his office, but Cara’s mind was on other things. She had just consented to become this man’s sweetheart. Part of her had wanted to say yes to him, and part of her had cautioned her against it. Why was that? Did that tell her she was definitely not in love with him? She realized she had not really missed him when they had not spoken to each other in the week. Was this another warning sign? Well, she had accepted now, and after all was said and done, Martin was a good man. He worked hard and she knew he would take care of her. Cara snapped her mind back in an effort to listen to what he was saying.
Twenty-One
Cara saw the men standing in the ‘Bread Line’ near the market in the hope of work. Although the autumn sun beamed down, she knew they would still gather when the cold snow of winter fell, should they not find work in the meantime. Martin Lander walked by her side. She had decided to attempt to attack the problem of Bilston’s poverty at its heart – unemployment, so this is what had brought her here. Cara was unsure at first, remembering she had promised the men still in the workhouse that she would do her utmost to get them released and rehoused; that she would find them work. And she would, but she also realized that if she didn’t solve the root cause of the problem, the workhouse would remain open.
The Workhouse Children Page 15