Replacing the telephone on the hall table, Cara blew a stray curl from her eyes. This was proving more difficult than she had imagined. She’d had no idea herself of the quantities needed and had asked advice from the women of the baking co-op. They had given her all the answers and she had made careful notes.
Picking up the telephone again, she drew in a breath. Now she needed to go through the whole thing again with the grocer, before ordering tin pots, pans, patty tins, cake tins and utensils.
Sitting at last in the kitchen after the final telephone call, Cara said, ‘Thank goodness that’s done! All we need now are bakers. I would have asked the baking co-operative but I think they might be working flat out already.’
Gracie handed her a cup of tea with a smile. ‘Did you order the sign for the frontage?’
Cara nodded, ‘Yes, I’m calling the bakery “Cara’s Cakes”, what do you think to it?’
‘Oh that’ll do very nicely!’ The women laughed together.
Then Cara said, ‘Gracie, I know I dismissed the idea of Charlie taking a message to the men still crushing stone in the workhouse, and I still don’t like the idea but I can see no other way. Mr Tulley won’t let me in again!’
Gracie was shocked and stared with an open mouth. “How do you know?”
“I telephoned for an appointment and he told me I would not be allowed in anymore.’ Cara was getting upset.
‘It certainly looks like you’ve riled old Tulley now!’ Changing the subject to calm Cara’s upset, Gracie said, ‘Here, you ain’t thinking of asking these men to do the baking, are you?’ She saw Cara’s nod.
“That was my plan,” Cara said.
‘Oh blimey! I can’t wait to see their reaction!’ Gracie’s laughter rang around the kitchen at Cara’s innocent face.
*
‘Charlie, you must promise me you will be careful,’ Cara said to her brother, who was stood in front of her.
‘I will, don’t worry,’ he grinned, ‘I won’t be long.’
Cara watched as the young rogue sped from the front door of the house. She prayed he would stay safe on his errand on her behalf.
Charlie ran along the edge of the allocated allotments shouting a quick ‘hello’ to the men working there. He noticed the land was being mapped out ready for short dividers to be put in place. Yelling a quick greeting to those in ‘Cara’s Cottages’, he was hailed by one of the women.
‘Where you off to in such a hurry then, Charlie Flowers?’ The woman asked.
‘I’m on an errand for our Cara. I have to deliver a message over the wall to the bone crushers at the “Spike”. Cara wants twelve of them to sign out, she’s got work for them.’
Turning, the woman yelled out. ‘Joe!’ A tall boy came running. ‘Go with Charlie and give him a leg up that workhouse wall,’ she said.
The two boys ran excitedly on up the dirt track towards Green Lanes and Charlie explained again what they were about. Circling around to the back of the ‘Spike’, they kept close to the wall in an attempt not to be seen. Hearing the sounds of stone being smashed, Charlie stopped. He pointed a finger at the wall. The older boy nodded and cupped his hands and Charlie stepped onto them. Hoisting the younger boy high, Joe tottered a little under the sudden weight pulling on his arms. Charlie grabbed the top of the wall and peeped over the top. Glancing around, he saw Fred Tulley disappear back into the building. Now was his chance.
Giving a whistle, he saw a few heads turn in his direction. Beckoning with his head, he watched a man approach, both keeping a keen eye out for the Master.
‘Cara Flowers wants twelve men out in three hours, they need to go to the end of Hare Street.’
The man nodded and grinned as Charlie disappeared back behind the wall. The two boys ran hell for leather back to the cottages. After thanking Joe, and his mother, Charlie raced off home.
Cara was relieved as she saw her brother run up the drive. She had been watching through the parlour window and she dashed to open the front door. She grinned widely as he puffed, ‘Joe Johnson came with me, the lad from “Cara’s Cottages”. He gave me a leg up the wall and when I saw Tulley go back in the workhouse I gave a whistle. A chap came over and I delivered your message. Job done!’
‘Well done, Charlie!’ Cara beamed. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ She gave him a hug as he laughed along with her.
Cara had asked Wally Webb to look out for the arrival of twelve men from the workhouse and settle them into the bedrooms at the new bakery. Three and a half hours later, he saw them striding purposefully towards him. Wally showed them to the bedrooms, saying Cara would be along the following day to meet them and explain what she had in mind. Thoughtfully he had brought along bread and cheese to at least ensure they had something to eat.
*
Fred Tulley fumed. Another twelve gone from the yard. Why? How? What had prompted their sudden request to sign themselves out? Where would they go? What would they live on? He knew the Flowers woman was behind this, but he couldn’t quite work out how she’d done it.
Pacing his office, he cradled his injured arm. ‘Bloody woman!’ he snarled nastily. He continued to pace, muttering under his breath. ‘First the damned Board and now this!’
The office door flew open and Ada marched in.
‘What have I told you about bloody knocking?’ Fred yelled.
Ignoring him, Ada Tulley, with a look that would sour milk, let forth a barrage of abuse. ‘You idiot! Another twelve gone! Whatever are you playing at? For God’s sake… the Board will have another blue fit when they find out!’
Fred shut his eyes tight as her voice made his ears ache. Dropping into his chair, he felt his will to live draining away.
Ada kept up her tirade, ‘What caused twelve men to up and leave just like that?’ She snapped her fingers. ‘What did they say? Did they tell you why they were signing out…? Did they say where they were going? Fred Tulley, are you listening to me?’
‘The whole bloody workhouse is listening to you, woman!’ Fred yelled back.
‘Fred, what are we going to do?’ Ada actually had tears in her eyes, something her husband never thought to see, and if Cara Flowers kept this up his wife wouldn’t be the only one fighting back the tears.
*
Those wives not part of the baking co-operative were asked by Cara to instruct the twelve new residents in the art of bread and cake making. These well-muscled men weren’t at all sure, in the beginning, if they liked the idea of becoming bakers. However, being told by Evie Webb, Wally’s wife, they could always return to the stone and bone crushing, the men settled down to learn what they could with no further argument.
A couple of the wives volunteered to work in the bakery shop once it opened; Cara planned the opening for the following month, in time for Christmas. Time was of the essence and the men knuckled down to learn their new trade. Cara knew she would have to draw in custom from the richer parts of town too, such as the people from Willenhall Road, Bride’s Row and Beckett Street, all of which lay on the edge of the town. The custom of the wealthy residents in Pearcroft Lane and Mountford Lane would also be well worth having. The houses there were in their own grounds and the owners usually employed a large staff. She wondered how she could go about spreading the word. In a flash the answer came to her. She would advertise in the newspapers. The higher echelon of society always had a newspaper placed on their breakfast plate which, when finished with, was sent downstairs to the staff. So news of the opening of the bakery would reach the rich and the not-so-well-off in one fell swoop.
She also remembered the town crier. The tallest man in the town who also had the loudest voice. He would walk the streets calling out the news to those who could not read. She made a mental reminder to place the advertisement at the newspaper office the next time she was in town, and also seek out the town crier.
With ‘Cara’s Cakes’ in the capable hands of Evie Webb, the women’s co-operative market stall doing well, and the allotment land divided off, Cara por
ed over her ledgers once more. Rent was coming in. However, the winter would see very little grown in the allotments. Cara had foreseen this and knew spring and summer would bring their own rewards.
Sam Yale was ushered into the parlour by a blushing Molly to collect wages and bring his report on the men working the allotments. Over tea, Cara was updated, then Sam said awkwardly, ‘Cara… the “Bread Line” is growing again. I just thought you might want to know.’ Screwing his mouth up, the young man watched the sadness creep over her face.
‘Thank you Sam, I’ll see what I can do to help.’
Sam Yale tipped his cap before leaving.
Cara set her mind to try and solve this new challenge placed before her. Her promise to the remaining men in the workhouse was in the forefront of her mind and she knew she had to somehow fulfil that promise first. It upset her that she was unable to help those standing the ‘bread line’ at present, but she would do her best to do so in the future. She would find a way. She just hoped they could manage until that time.
As she sat alone in the parlour, she racked her brains as to what she could do to relieve the misery of these men and prevent them going into the workhouse. However, ideas eluded her and her mood turned sombre. Her heart weighed heavy as she desperately tried to find a solution to these problems. She spent the afternoon alone, brooding, turning the situation over and over in her mind. But try as she might, she could not fathom how to solve the predicament she was now faced with.
Twenty-Three
Josiah Colley, the registrar, had searched his records from John and Elizabeth Flowers’ wedding date until the present time. He had found no more children born to the family but had discovered John Flowers’ death certificate.
‘Miss Flowers,’ he said into the telephone, ‘I have here a death certificate for John Flowers… please accept my condolences.’
Hearing her thanks, he resumed, ‘It would appear he died in a carting accident. To the best of my knowledge, there are no more children born with the Flowers name.’
‘Thank you Mr Colley for your efforts, I am most grateful.’
Replacing the telephone on the table, Cara returned to the kitchen and sat by the table. She considered how she felt about this news. John Flowers was her father after all, but she couldn’t remember him. She felt sad he had been killed and wondered how her life would have turned out had she still been living beneath his roof. Knowing what she had been told by Charlie, she wondered if he might have been cruel to her too. How did she feel about that? She felt extremely sad that he’d been so brutal to her mother and she would have probably felt as Charlie did. What would it have been like growing up with both a mother and father? She had loved her grandmother, there was no disputing that, but she couldn’t help but wonder how it would have felt to have had her parents too. Then again, she thought she may have grown up as a child full of anger.
She then realized Mr Colley had not mentioned anything of her mother. Was she still alive? Where was she? Cara knew if she was still living then she could be anywhere. She also knew that she would have to explain all of this to Daisy and Charlie on their return from school. How would they take this news? Would they be upset? Now she had no idea how to search for their mother. Her last line of enquiry in Mr Colley was closed. Where would she go from here?
Colley knew, as did the whole town, that Cara had found her two siblings and they were living with her. Word of her good works had spread far and wide regarding the poor people of Bilston. She was held in high esteem by everyone for her efforts in attempting to close down the workhouse once and for all.
With two siblings found and her father dead, Josiah Colley wondered what had happened to Cara’s mother. Was she dead also? She was not listed in his records, but then she could have perished in another town. If she was still living, where was she? How had she survived? Why had she not returned to her own mother after John’s death? Had she remarried? If that was the case she would have a new surname. Without knowing that, Josiah didn’t have a hope in hell of locating her.
His eyes still on the telephone he shook his head. Colley then returned to his work sad that there was nothing more he could do.
*
Cara was not surprised but was happy to learn that Molly Barton and Sam Yale had become a couple. Over the course of Sam’s visits to collect the wages from The Laburnums, she had seen them strike up a close bond. She was pleased for them both, although she did wonder what would happen were they to marry. Molly obviously would leave The Laburnums to be with her new husband, but Cara felt that was a way off yet. They would have to save their money to get married, and that was no mean feat. Of course she would help them in any way she could, but she knew a wedding would not be imminent.
She and Martin had found little time for their own relationship. Martin’s law practice had taken off spectacularly and she had been extremely busy with the shop and tenants.
November had arrived and with it came the first snow flurries. A bitter cold wind blew, carrying the little snowflakes to land on the trees which stood deep in their winter slumber. The wind was lazy which seemed to cut through even the thickest of clothes. It threatened to be a long, harsh winter. Cara dressed warmly in her wool suit. The navy blue jacket fitted her narrow waist and the long skirt to match stopped at her leather boots. A fur cape draped her shoulders with hat and muffler accessories. An umbrella completed the ensemble. Molly, Gracie and the children were wrapped warmly too as they all climbed into the waiting cab. It was the day of the Bakery opening and an advertisement in the local newspaper had broadcasted the news to the people of the town.
As the cab rolled down Hare Street, Cara gasped, ‘Look at all these women!’
‘Bloody hell!’ Gracie whispered and Daisy giggled.
‘Looks like it’s going to be a busy day,’ Molly added.
The line of people stretched for what seemed like miles. Cara felt like royalty as she alighted the cab and stepped into her shop. Three women in long white aprons over black dresses and caps on heads stood behind the counter ready for action. Cara looked at the long counter which had shelves beneath and a glass front which displayed cakes, pastries and breads, all freshly baked by her new ‘chefs’. Eclairs, cream horns, Eccles cakes, jam tarts and mince pies sat temptingly on large china plates. The aroma from the kitchen reached Cara’s nose and made her mouth water.
The sound of clapping reaching her ears as she thought the men had taken to baking extremely well. They had learned quickly under Evie Webb’s tutelage, even coming up with new ideas of their own.
The twelve men worked the kitchen like professionals and duly trooped out in their chef’s whites to add to the applause given their employer.
Smiling shyly, Cara nodded her acceptance of their gratitude and the bakers strode back to their kitchen. Turning back, Cara threw open the door and stepped to the side as women pushed their way into the shop eager to be the first to try the new treats. Time would see this shop one of the most popular in Bilston. Of course there were those who preferred to shop in the market, so the women’s co-operative stall was still going strong.
All morning Cara chatted with the constant stream of customers, some of whom, she learned, were the cooks of the wealthy. Some were the wealthy ladies themselves, dressed in expensive outfits and sporting beautiful hats. She was thrilled her advertisement in the newspaper had brought in this valued custom. She was even more thrilled that the till was working overtime. Cara watched as the bakers constantly refilled the shelves with custard tarts, macaroons, fairy cakes, gingerbread men and small Christmas puddings. By lunchtime she decided it was time for home. Praising the staff, she squeezed past waiting women to leave the building. It was evident the shop would be busy for the rest of the day.
*
The great expanse of heath leading to the Birmingham Canal was covered with old coal shafts or ‘gin pits’ as the colloquial term had it. Bilston Quarries was situated across the railway line from the station and Millfields Colliery, n
o longer working, lay further west. The old cottages dotted around these areas housed the poorest of the poor.
On the heath at the further side of the huge canal was another massive area of scrubland. The Bradley Row, Fiery Holes and Bradley Lodge Collieries all lay silent. No longer making a profit they had been shut down, the miners finding themselves out of work. Here, too, the poor scratched out a living as best they could. These small communities were visited often by the Relieving Officer of the Parish, offering ‘tickets’ into the workhouse. The last few months, however, had seen no one take up the offer. The people were starving yet still they refused him. Unsure of what to do, he eventually decided to report back to the Board of Guardians.
The poor watched from behind torn and dirty curtains as the man walked away, a ticket to their next meal clutched in his hand. Even stuck out here they had heard of Cara Flowers and her good work. Bilston people were fiercely proud and they would hold out as long as possible in the hope the young woman would hear of their plight and offer them assistance.
On the other side of town, Cara was unaware of the folk awaiting a visit from the ‘Guardian Angel’. Her mind was on the men who had finished their work on the cottages. The money coming in from the women taking in washing or selling their baking would help see them over the winter, but the men were now standing idle. Then there were the allotments, there would be no yield from them for some months, so again the men needed something to fill their days.
Cara’s mind swirled as did the snowflakes on the wind outside her window. Had she given these people hope only to see it vanish again? She prayed for inspiration, never imagining it to come in the form of the doctor.
*
Joseph Purcell heard again the words of the Relieving Officer after the man left his office at the court building. 'They ain’t taking up the tickets, sir. It’s my view they’m waiting on salvation from Cara Flowers’.
That woman again! He would not be undermined by this girl! He was Chairman of the Board of Guardians for God’s sake! He was a Magistrate!
The Workhouse Children Page 17