‘She’s in the parlour with…’ Molly’s sentence faltered as Martin ran for the room she indicated.
‘Martin! How lovely…’ Cara’s words were cut off.
‘Is it true?’ Martin demanded.
‘Is what true?’ Cara asked, wrinkling her brow.
‘Is it true?’ Martin yelled. ‘Have you been having an affair?’
‘What?!’ Cara was astounded. ‘No! Most definitely not!’
‘I have been told you have had a relationship with another man!’ Martin was beside himself.
‘I have not, Martin! How could you believe it of me? Besides, when would I have the time?’ Cara looked from him to Gracie and Molly.
‘I… I…’ Martin stuttered.
‘Who told you this?’ Now it was Cara’s turn to demand.
‘Joseph Purcell has just been to see me and…’ Martin attempted, his glance moving from one shocked face to another.
‘And…?’ Cara urged.
‘He said you have been seeing another man behind my back.’ Martin was already beginning to feel like a fool.
‘Seeing who? Who, Martin? Who am I supposed to have been seeing?’ Cara was furious.
‘I don’t know,’ Martin said quietly. He hung his head in shame, suddenly realizing the stupidity of the whole thing.
‘I see!’ Cara’s voice rose an octave. ‘For God’s sake, Martin!’
Dropping into a chair, Martin Lander’s emotions spilled over and he looked close to tears. He pushed his hands through his hair and sighed loudly. Then he gave a sob.
Cara rushed to him, wrapping him in her arms. Gracie raised her eyebrows towards Molly and they made a swift exit to the kitchen. Gracie put the kettle to boil; Molly rushed to the pantry to fetch the cake. This would take some discussing and tea would smooth the way.
Eventually Martin gained control of his emotions.
‘I ask you again, Martin, how could you believe it of me?’ She was shaking with rage as he shook his head. ‘Do you really think so little of me to believe I would do such a thing?’ Not giving him time to answer, she raged on, ‘Honestly, Martin! You surprise me, you really do! This certainly has cast a shadow over our relationship, you do realize that, don’t you?’
‘Cara… I…’ Martin began.
‘Don’t, Martin! Don’t you dare apologize! You should have challenged him. You should have defended me; fought for my honour! I am to be your wife and if that wedding is to go ahead you will have to grow a backbone!’
‘I know, I’m…’ Martin’s words halted for fear of Cara yelling at him again.
Cara resumed, ‘Why would he say such a thing?’
Martin shook his head. ‘I have no idea,’ he said wearily. They both knew this was going to take a lot of thrashing out.
*
The gossip regarding Cara Flowers having had an affair with another man needed to be passed around the town and Purcell debated where it should begin. Sitting with tea in his living room, he eyed his cook who was informing him dinner was ready.
‘Have you heard the news about Cara Flowers?’ he asked.
The cook shook her head. ‘Well, it would seem she has been having an affair with a man behind Lander’s back!’
The cook was shocked and her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I don’t believe it!’ She muttered.
‘I thought the same at first,’ Joseph went on, ‘but I was reliably informed that it’s true.’
As the cook left the room, Joseph knew word would be passed the following day in the market. Gossip would be rife in no time and he knew that tittle-tattle such as this had ruined lives in the past.
Purcell would wait and watch. The people of the town would draw their own conclusions and once they did – Cara Flowers would be finished. Her reputation would be in tatters. He would enjoy watching the young woman’s downfall from her high and mighty status in the town. He would crow when she was shunned by everyone. All he had to do now was be patient. Sipping his tea he smiled his satisfaction. All was going to plan.
*
The discussion in the parlour raged on. Why had Purcell tried to blacken her character? Whatever could he gain from it?
‘The workhouse is dead and gone now!’ Cara snapped.
‘And so is Purcell’s job of Chairman of the Board of Guardians,’ Martin added, suddenly aware of the reason for the malicious intent.
A discussion in the kitchen was also going on about what had been overheard.
‘Bastard!’ Molly muttered under her breath as a knock came to the back door and Sam Yale, her sweetheart, walked in. Molly flushed at being overheard cursing by Sam.
It was then that Cara and Martin joined the little group in the kitchen.
Given tea, Sam was drawn into the conversation. ‘Nobody will believe it,’ he said.
Cara thanked her foreman for his support, ‘Gossip is a very strong weapon. It can ruin relationships and destroy lives. I will have to find a way to fight it!’ Cara was becoming upset and wrung her hands in her lap.
‘Well,’ Sam said, ‘why don’t you pre-empt it? We could let folk know before they hear this gossip that it’s not true.’ Seeing Cara’s puzzled face, he went on, ‘Molly and I could go to visit all your tenants and tell them, they would then tell others, and…before you know it, it will be all over the town.’
‘Also,’ Martin cut in now fully restored to solicitor mode, ‘this gossip is defamation of character. It’s up to whoever started the rumour to prove its authenticity, it’s not up to Cara to disprove it!’
‘Why didn’t you say that to Purcell at the time then?’ Cara asked pointedly.
‘I was upset, Cara.’ Martin answered.
‘You were upset! What about me? Did you stop to think how I might feel?’ Cara’s anger rose once more.
In an effort to diffuse the argument she felt was surely to come, Molly grabbed her coat and then, tugging on Sam’s arm, she said, ‘Right, let’s get to it! We’ll decide where to start when we get out there.’ She tilted her head towards the back door.
Cara watched them go. Although quietly confident their plan would work, she sent up a silent prayer anyway – it wouldn’t hurt to have God on her side.
*
After her shift in the kitchen, and staying true to her word, the cook in the Union Workhouse strode down the corridor and hammered on the Master’s office door. Hearing him yell for her to enter, she walked in and banged the door shut behind her.
Fred sighed inwardly. Judging by the look on the cook’s face, he was about to get an ear-bashing.
‘Mr Tulley!’ Hands crossed and resting on her stomach, the cook addressed the man slouching in his chair. ‘I would be grateful if you would tell the Matron to kindly keep her nose out of my kitchen!’
Sighing through his nose, Tulley asked, ‘What’s she done now?’
‘She waltzes into my kitchen, Mr Tulley, and proceeds to try and tell me how to prepare the food! I have been working here for many years and I will not be told how to do my job by one who is not qualified to do so! It wouldn’t be so bad but she’s only been here two minutes!’
Tulley held up his hands in an effort to quieten the cook’s temper. ‘I understand, I really do!’ he said. ‘Please be assured I will be having words.’
‘Good! I’m glad to hear it. That woman is an interfering menace!’ The cook nodded sharply.
You have no idea! Fred thought but said instead, ‘You are doing an excellent job and I’m grateful for your hard work. I will instruct Mrs Tulley to kindly keep her nose out of your kitchen.’
The cook nodded again before she turned and left the office.
Leaning back in his chair, Fred closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. ‘Bloody hell Ada!’ he muttered. ‘Don’t you even think to bugger things up for me in here!’
Fred Tulley had no notion of the upset taking place in Bilston as he closed up the workhouse later that night. It was nine p.m. and the whole building was in darkness, the only light coming from the moon. He fo
und Ada sprawled on the floor of the living room, drunk out of her mind. Stepping over her, he retired to bed, leaving her where she lay to sleep off the beer. He knew this couldn’t go on and thought again about the money he had hidden away. Purcell had promised more and Ada was ignorant of the deal the two men had struck regarding Fred being Purcell’s witness to seeing Cara Flowers stepping out with another man.
Fred had hidden the money he’d received from Purcell. His worry now was Ada finding out about the deal, the payment made and wanting her share of it.
Ada had attacked him once before and who was to say she wouldn’t do it again? Fred fell asleep determined to keep a close eye on his wife.
Thirty-Five
The coronation day of King Edward VII had arrived and preparations were underway in streets all over the country. Bunting was strung from house to house and shop to shop, crisscrossing the cobbled thoroughfares. The tiny pieces of rag flapped in the gentle breeze as the sun beamed down. Laughter and jocularity was in evidence almost everywhere. Tables, stools and chairs were dragged out into the streets and loaded with edible contributions from the residents. Those lucky enough to own a piano saw it hauled outside for the festivities and children waved small flags glued to sticks. The pomp of the coronation ceremony would not be viewed by the majority of the country, but the occasion was one to be celebrated nevertheless. The revelling began early in the morning and would not see people in their beds until very late that night.
There would be no coronation celebrations in Wolverhampton Union Workhouse however, life and work was to go on as usual. Ada woke with a headache from hell and a temper to match. She ached from having slept on the floor and the thought of breakfast turned her stomach. Hair of the dog was what she needed and she was pouring herself a beer as Fred stepped into the living room. Her husband shook his head in disgust as he walked past her, out of the door and onto the landing. Going down the stairs he entered the workhouse proper.
Downing the ale, Ada decided she would not bother working but go into town instead. She needed fresh air… as fresh as could be found in the industrial town of Wolverhampton.
Changing her creased clothes, she donned a dark brown skirt which fell to her leather ankle boots. A high-neck cream blouse with sleeves to the wrist complemented the full skirt, and with a cheap straw hat sporting a feather, she was ready.
At the gate she dropped a coin into the porter’s hand and walked away from the ‘Spike’.
Ada made her way to the market and strolled between the stalls. With nothing much to interest her, she strode away again.
As she walked back towards the workhouse, she heard her name being called. Turning, she saw a carter wave to her. Stopping his horse, he jumped from the cart.
‘So this is where you went,’ he said.
‘Ar,’ Ada replied, ‘we’m up at the Union Workhouse now. So what’s new in Bilston then?’
‘Well, gossip has it that your Fred saw young Cara Flowers out with another man!’ the carter said.
Wondering why her husband hadn’t shared this information with her, she asked, ‘Ain’t she engaged to that Lander fella?’
The carter nodded. ‘Word is, Fred saw her and another bloke out and about in Wolverhampton and he told Mr Purcell, the Magistrate, who then told Lander!’ Seeing her surprised look, he went on, ‘Right, I’d best be on my way, nice to see you, Ada.’ The carter climbed into the driving seat and waved again as Ada walked away.
Ada thought hard about what the carter had told her as she made her way back to the workhouse. Fred never gave anything away, not even gossip. So, if he’d told the Magistrate then there must have been something in it for him. It was her guess he’d been paid for that snippet of gossip he’d passed on.
Ada’s temper flared. Not only had he not told her the gossip, but he hadn’t told her of the money she suspected he had hidden away! Striding out, her anger building, she determined to have this out with Fred and ensure she got her hands on half that money.
Once through the front door, Ada slammed it behind her. Walking through the corridor, she drew in a deep breath and yelled, ‘Fred! Fred Tulley, where are you?’ Hearing no reply, she muttered, ‘Bloody hell, Fred, that’s typical, never there when you want him!’
Ada Tulley could not keep her counsel regarding the rumour about her husband’s gossip about Cara Flowers. Marching down the corridor, she strode into the bone crushing area.
‘Tulley!’ she yelled. Fred rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. ‘I want a word with you!’
Strolling towards his wife, he thought, Now what?
Ada’s voice carried across the yard, halting the work the men were undertaking. ‘What’s this I hear about you passing gossip about that strumpet in Bilston?’
Fred paled visibly and heard the mutterings of the men behind him. How had she found out? He knew the gossip would travel, but he had not thought it would be so swift.
‘Keep your voice down woman!’ he rasped.
‘I will not keep my voice down!’ Ada snapped back. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t find out about you taking a backhander, you swine? Well let me tell you, I want half of that money, and don’t you even think to deny you have it!’
The workers tittered and sat down to enjoy the show.
Deny everything, Fred’s mind was telling him as Ada railed on.
‘I bloody knew you was up to something. Well, now I know!’
Fred raised his hands in a manner of surrender, but Ada misread the action and screamed out, ‘Don’t you dare think to stride me again, Fred Tulley! You did that once before and don’t you dare think to try it again!’
The men sitting on the ground looked at each other and raised their eyebrows.
Fred finally retaliated with, ‘We will discuss this matter later, Ada, now go about your business… NOW!’ As he turned away from her, the men jumped up and returned to their work.
The Matron spun on her heel and fled to her living room and the solace of her ale.
Later in the afternoon with yet another beer-befuddled brain, Ada made her rounds of the laundry and exercise yards before entering the kitchen. Throwing the cook a malicious glare, she inspected the work being undertaken. The cook crossed her arms over her white pinafore which covered her long dark dress, and her cap wobbled in time with her tapping foot. Ada was in no mood for confrontation with the woman and nodding once, she left the room.
Liza Townsend had watched this silent stand-off between the women from the corner of her eye and a minute later she too quietly left the confines of the busy kitchen. The time had come and she knew where the Matron would be headed. Liza slipped off her boots and tying them together by their laces, she hung them around her neck. Walking along the corridor in her stockinged feet, Liza followed where the Matron led. Keeping out of sight and hardly daring to breathe, Liza tiptoed up the stairs to the private quarters of the Master and Matron. Pinning her ear to the door, she heard no voices; Ada was alone. Looking around her, Liza’s thoughts came together and if all went according to plan, Ada Tulley would breathe her last very shortly.
*
The family at The Laburnums had been invited to share in the festivities at ‘Cara’s Cottages’. By the time they arrived, the celebrations were in full swing. Gracie and Molly were loaded down with bread and pastries; Charlie and Daisy had bags of sweets for the other children and Martin arrived in a cab with a barrel of beer; Cara provided homemade lemonade.
Given a chair placed in the shade, Cara watched the children running around enjoying each other’s company while Gracie and Molly were gossiping with the wives. Cara’s thoughts were interrupted by Wally Webb, her foreman for the area.
‘Nobody believes the rumour, you know,’ he said as he sat on the ground next to her chair.
‘I hope not, Wally,’ Cara answered quietly. ‘I am worried though. No one has actually said anything, but I fear it may only be a matter of time.’
‘Look, everyone knows what you’ve done for this town and they k
now you’re a good woman. All that hard work you’ve put in with the poor folk. All that money you’ve spent! You’re all set to marry a solicitor for God’s sake! You would never jeopardize that for a fling with another man!’ Seeing her about to speak, he rushed on, ‘You wouldn’t and everyone knows that. You did Purcell out of a job as Chairman; you made him look a fool in front of the whole town and now he’s out to blacken your name in retaliation.’
‘But I never meant to!’ Cara’s distress was evident.
‘We all know that, wench,’ Wally said, ‘you caused one man some embarrassment, but look how many lives you saved! Look how many refused the ticket into the workhouse because of you and your good work! People all over the town see you as their guardian angel, Cara; you are their saviour!’
Cara blushed at Wally’s words. ‘Thank you Wally.’
Taking her hand, he kissed the back before scrambling to his feet to rejoin the party.
‘He’s right,’ Martin said, moving towards her. He had stood a little way off but had heard every word. ‘Now Mrs Lander-to-be, come and join in the festivities!’
Cara laughed as he lifted her from the chair and set her on her feet.
Leaning down, he kissed her gently and Cara flushed to the roots of her hair at the applause from the people watching them. He was glad things were back to normal between them.
*
Liza could hear Ada Tulley muttering to herself as she listened at the door. She heard the woman’s ‘Ahhh…’ before the smacking of lips. Ada was having a drink, and it was Liza’s guess it wasn’t tea.
Reaching into her apron pocket, Liza’s hand closed on a cold object that nestled there. She had swiped the paring knife from the kitchen before she had slipped unnoticed from the room. One of many it would not be missed.
Liza cast another quick glance around her… she was alone. She knocked on the door. Hearing footsteps approaching the door, Liza pulled the knife from her pocket and held it behind her back.
The door opened and Liza lowered her head.
‘What? What you want?’ Ada said, none too happy at having her drinking time disturbed. She didn’t notice the boots hanging around Liza’s neck.
The Workhouse Children Page 25