She threw her arms around Florrie and kissed her. ‘We missed each other. I waited and you didn’t come. Where have you been?’ She then realised that her daughter was upset. ‘You’ve been crying. What is the matter with you?’
Florrie opened her mouth to speak when she caught Jim’s eye. He was shaking his head, his eyes were on Minnie’s skirt. Florrie had known Jim long enough to understand his body language. She could see by his expression that he was telling her to be quiet.
‘I was just worried about you Ma.’ She said standing and hugging her mother again. She now smelt the whisky on her breath. She looked down and noticed that a button was missing from her mother’s skirt. There was a damp stain on the front of her blouse as though she had spilt something and her lipstick was smudged.
‘I’ll be on my way Mrs. Ryan. Good night Florrie, will see you tomorrow.’ He tapped her cheek with the back of his hand. He feigned a smile at Florrie’s mother then left.
Florrie cried herself to sleep that night. She now knew full well what her Ma’s game was. Clearly, her mother had been with a man shortly before coming home. She was sure that she was up to no good with men. Florrie now felt that she could never trust her again.
The Hales sat in the Vines drinking until the landlord called time. The amount they had consumed had obliterated their concerns about the night’s events. There was nowhere else for them to go but home. As usual, the evil pair cheeked it out, they would deny everything if the police came. They knew that the illusive Maurice would be long gone. They had spent the evening concocting a story.
‘To hell with young Florrie!’ Said Betsy wickedly. ‘I will say she came to our house under false pretences, I’ll tell the Mr. Plods that she was looking for gainful employment and it was a ploy to sneak her thieving ‘fella’ in. She came to our abode with her robbing little accomplice Jim Boyle. His father is a known thief with a criminal record. I’ll tell them the little bastard is one of the ring leaders of the criminal club. That’s why all the town traders and shops have been getting robbed blind, it’s because of low lifes like him.’
‘Good story. They will have all fucked off by the time we get back. Stick to your tale, I will let you do all the talking, I’m always better at being the quiet man.’ Added Freddie.
‘Come, we must go.’ Betsy gave him a nudge.
There was no need for any elaborate tales. They went home to an empty house and the police never came. Betsy and Freddie were off the hook once again.
As days went by, Florrie became more curious about her mother. She was now sure that Minnie was living a double life. Amidst the facade of her respectable job in the druggist’s and her neat terraced house with starched lace curtains, there was a dark side to her.
Florrie was alone in the house one evening and plucked up the courage to have a nose around her Ma’s bedroom. Minnie denied herself nothing. She wore good quality clothes and shoes made of kid leather. Her mother’s wardrobe contained some dresses that were exceptional. When she wore them, she made sure that the finery was hidden under a greatcoat.
Florrie rarely went into her Ma’s room. Of late, Minnie had often kept the door locked and had told Florrie, ‘Don’t you be going in there, there’s nothing in there for you, I don’t like anyone rooting in my private effects.’ This just made Florrie think that she had something to hide, her curiosity was aroused.
In the fading light, she looked at the row of fancy scent bottles on the dressing table. She had a quick dab of the perfume. She was taken aback by the headiness of it, it was heavy and over-powering.
She opened the top drawer in which there was an array of underwear, silk stockings, garters and fine silk drawers trimmed with lace. They were luxurious to the touch. For a moment Florrie gazed out of the window at the grey street before her. Tears began to roll down her cheeks at the thought of her mother laying with men for money. Florrie couldn’t bear the thought of it, particularly in the light of her recent experience.
As she rummaged around in the drawer she came across a small trinket box. Her heart skipped a beat as she dared herself to open it. Inside was a beautiful marquise style diamond ring. It sparkled in the fading evening light from the bedroom window. Florrie just had to try it on. It was a perfect fit for the middle finger of her right hand. Her mind was racing, she had never seen her mother wear this ring before and it couldn’t possibly fit her. Her Ma was a big boned woman and had fairly large if not ‘mannish’ hands.
‘Then where did she get it?’ Wondered Florrie, ‘One of her fancy men must have bought it for her, but then it would fit. ‘She must have pinched it then.’
She couldn’t believe that her own mother was going with different men and was possibly a thief as well. She didn’t like the way her mother had been conducting herself of late and she was starting to act strangely. Her drinking had made her become increasingly irritable and moody. Her mother had become unbearably rude, ill tempered and very difficult to live with.
Florrie decided that she no longer wanted to live under the same roof as her mother. Minnie was increasingly vague about her life outside the home and her work. She had been seen around town with a number of suitors. There were different men every week, Jim had reported some sightings of her and Florrie had seen her on two occasions walking arm in arm with a man. Florrie didn’t have the courage to confront her, of late her mother was temperamental and moody, she had no intentions of falling out with her.
Jim was beside himself with anger at the Hales. He knew exactly who they were now. He had been asking his father about them and had made some enquiries in the neighbourhood. He found out that they were brothel keepers and bad people. He swore he would kill the pair of them. Florrie restrained him, she did everything she could to calm his anger. The only consolation they had was that she’d had a narrow escape. However, Jim was seething with fury at what might have been.
His Pa had told him about his time in jail alongside Freddie Hale. Jim could see that the mere mention of Freddie was like a red rag to a bull so he decided to let sleeping dogs lie. After all, his Pa had done so well to redeem himself in the face of adversity. He came out of prison to hardly any family left and no home. Jim was now proud of his father’s achievements and efforts to improve his lot. Charlie often said, ‘Don’t look for trouble lad, trouble will find you.’ With these words firmly in his mind, Jim was determined to stay out of lumber.
Then one day he asked his Pa for a favour. He was tentative about asking, expecting the answer to be ‘No.’
‘Pa, you know my girl, Florrie.’
‘You know quite well I know who Florrie is, don’t fucking tell me, you’ve got her in the family way?’
‘No, no, nothing like that Pa, the truth is, she’s not getting on very well with her Ma, they are always arguing, Mrs. Ryan has a nasty temper.’ Jim exaggerated.
‘What’s that got to do with me?’
‘Can she rent a room off us? It’s a big house, plenty of space and she can have the second floor. She’ll be out the way and can pay us rent.’
‘Don’t know about that, it’s not decent, neighbours will have something to say and what about her Ma? How would she feel about her daughter coming to live here?’
‘Well she’s already asked her and she doesn’t mind. We are just waiting on you.’ Said Jim eagerly.
‘I expect she doesn’t, she’d have a free leg so she can go fucking around with men, I know what her game is.’
‘Well, Florrie is a good girl and doesn’t like what’s going on.’
‘Very well, but I’ll speak to her mother first, I just hope it’s not like mother, like daughter. Don’t even think of trying anything here, or else I’ll throw the pair of you out. I want her mother to make it plain to her before she comes here. There will be house rules do you understand?’
‘Of course I do Pa.’
The following week Florrie moved in with Jim and his father.
Before she left, Florrie took the ring from the trinket box that was hid
den in the drawer of her mother’s dressing table. She stole it to spite her, owing to her behaviour with men. ‘She hadn’t been here for me on that night I was nearly raped, what sort of mother is she anyway?’ Thought Florrie as she tried to justify her actions.
To hide her theft, Florrie hatched a crafty plan but she needed Jim’s help. Besotted with his girlfriend, he would do almost anything in the world for her. Jim was most surprised to learn that she had stolen the ring, she pleaded with him to stage a break in at the house. He couldn’t easily forget the values instilled in him by old Sally and felt reluctant to go along with Florrie’s wishes. He knew it was wrong but Florrie was a powerful influence on him. That very night Jim forced Minnie’s back kitchen door open with a jemmy to make it look like a burglary. Florrie had opened several drawers in her mother’s bedroom and left some of her underwear strewn on the floor. She also left the empty trinket box that contained the ring at the top of the stairs to make it look like a real theft.
Minnie had discovered the break in when she came home that night. It was just one of many crimes in the area and warranted little police time. They concluded that someone must have been watching the house and the thief had been disturbed once he was inside. After all, Minnie reported that nothing had been taken.
Minnie was upset that the ring had been stolen but she blamed the burglar’s luck.
‘The fucking rat has more than likely been put up to it by the Hales or even that bastard, Maurice.’
A few months had passed since Florrie was abducted by the Hales. In Florrie’s case, time was a good healer. She was now settled in Jim’s father’s house in Westbourne Street, she was very happy there. She came and went as she pleased and had the whole of the second floor to herself. Having a young woman about the house was good for Charlie and Jim. She did more than her fair share of the chores and made the house a proper home. After so many years of living on their own, a woman’s touch was welcome.
Florrie had carefully hidden the ring in the hem of an old dress that she no longer wore. She checked that it was still there every time she came home from work, she gave the hem a gentle squeeze. Just having such an exquisite piece in her possession gave her a flush of excitement.
She surmised that her mother had stolen the ring or may even have received it as a gift. She often wondered about her mother’s past. Florrie had always found her mother secretive, there had always been a barrier to communication.
Charlie Boyle’s contentment was complete when he, finally, encountered his three missing daughters. He was dismissive of wizards and magic and wouldn’t entertain anything to do with tales that were not based in reality. Eventually, Jim persuaded him that the message from Larry was real. Charlie was so desperate to see his daughters again, he believed him.
‘They are living in a house on Rupert’s Hill. I will take you there but we can’t stay long. Just enough time for you to see that they are keeping well and starting to trust people again.’
‘They will be all grown up now, the youngest Ruby will be twenty one, Rachel twenty two and my Alice will be twenty three.’ Said Charlie pensively.
He never forgot his children’s ages or even their birthdays. Although in the past birthdays came and went without presents as did every Christmas. He thought about them every day that had gone by since their disappearance. He wondered where they would be and what they would be doing. It often entered his mind that they might be dead, but something was telling him that they were safe. To Charlie it was incredulous, beyond his comprehension but that was how he felt.
‘I will take you there, come with me, you will see that the girls are safe.’ Jim took his father to the house at the top of Rupert’s Hill and all was made clear to him.
‘Goodbye Pa, you can have peace of mind now.’ Reassured Alice, after the visit Charlie was no longer haunted by the past.
He now believed and understood.
Chapter 16
Just Desserts
Late September – New
Brighton – 1900
‘This is our own little hidey hole here Duchess.’ Said Freddie smugly as he surveyed their new house in Tollemache Street. It was near the promenade in New Brighton, at the back of Ham and Eggs Parade. ‘The fresh air will do your cough good.’
Sometimes he looked at her and thought that perhaps, she had more the matter with her than a cough. Her eyesight wasn’t too good and now she had a rash on her face. She attempted to hide it with heavy powder and paint. She didn’t trust doctors and never went near one. Betsy was unaware that she had syphilis.
‘That is right Freddie. The house is smaller and easy to manage, cosy too and we don’t have to have any bunters living under our roof anymore.’
‘Ooh, I might miss that though.’ Said Freddie with a mischievous wink. ‘Never mind there is more than enough going on at Ham and Eggs Parade to make up for it.’
Ham and Eggs Parade was an imposing four storey building which towered above the promenade near New Brighton Pier. The ground level consisted of shops but mostly cafes which served a quick meal to the locals and day trippers, usually ham and eggs. Hence, it was known locally as ‘Ham and Eggs Parade.’ There were narrow stone stairwells between the cafes and shops to gain access to the dwellings above.
At first glance, they appeared to be respectable houses but their elegant facade hid a secret. The three storeys above each had their own front door and a communal landing which linked them like a little street. This upper pavement ran along the top of the cafes and shops. It was here that Betsy and Freddie rented out rooms. They allowed the use of the rooms to prostitutes on a daily basis. The girls paid for a full day or a night. Betsy, who operated her business from a cafe below, acted as banker.
There was no shortage of young women who solicited the ‘prom’ and the fairground, eagerly looking for business. Freddie, who had got himself well known for procuring, would often be approached by men purporting to be out for an afternoon stroll. Betsy would also pick up girls in the numerous cafes. She was a magnet for the women who had the misfortune to fall into prostitution.
‘Rents off the harlots in the upstairs rooms on the parade will bring in a few shillings. But there are too many of them Freddie. Far too many cheap older whores and not enough punters.’
‘Wait ‘til that Tower has the big ballroom built below it, there will be punters galore. Maybe we can open another house like Duke Street. This is the place of the future, a fine beach resort for pleasure seekers! Hales Bespoke Introductions, the pleasure is all ours.’ Freddie started his annoying, sniggering laugh. ‘You never know, might even find a young ‘un.’
Betsy did not give up her quest for young girls. There were always men who would pay a high price for their favours. She was prepared to take the risk. A small supply of such girls and a high demand would give her a good return.
‘It still sticks in my throat about that cocky Boyle lad saving Florrie, he made fools of us. We could have made money out of her. She is on with that Boyle lad and he’s got no fucking money. I’ve seen the little cunts over here regular for days out. I will wait my opportunity, I do not give in easily.’
Young girls were hard to find but Betsy was determined to find Florrie Ryan.
‘Although she would now be seventeen, she looked younger and would fetch a high price. Surely, by now she would be amenable to selling her charms, better than giving it away for nothing to that useless lad.’ Thought Betsy, wickedly.
‘She is still young too, only just turned seventeen, nice looker an’ all.’ Added Freddie.
‘She cannot possibly be a virgin. I have seen her walking out with Jim Boyle. He won’t be going with her because he likes the colour of her eyes.’ Mused Betsy.
It was late September, Betsy was out on the promenade, she was using a stick as a walking aid. Her back was hurting, she needed to stop every now and then to support herself. She had stopped smoking cigars and was getting a lot more fresh air these days. Her cough appeared to be getting a little bet
ter. Although pretty well rid of the bad chest, her health was otherwise failing. She had good days and bad days. On the good days she could stride out and even run a little. But lately there were more bad days than good.
She was outside The Bon Marche department store on the corner of Ham and Eggs Parade when she spotted Jim Boyle with Florrie. They were walking towards the store, arm in arm.
‘Hope it keeps fine for them, love’s young dream.’ Thought Betsy cynically.
Betsy wore a large brimmed hat. These days, she dressed more conservatively. Her business was no longer obvious by her mode of dress. She blended in with the mixture of people who were from all walks of life. Betsy, if anything, looked more like a member of the affluent middle class.
The couple were now looking at the merchandise on display in the large shop window. Betsy was standing alongside them, pretending to be interested in the women’s blouses. She glanced slyly to the side, peering under the rim of her hat. She noticed that the girl, Florrie, was wearing an expensive looking ring. It was on the middle finger of her right hand.
Florrie only wore the ring when she was out of town, she never wore it in Liverpool. She loved the anonymity of being in New Brighton, it was rare that she would see anyone here who knew her.
Although many of her friends did visit the seaside resort, it was highly unlikely that their paths would cross, even if they did, she had planned to turn the ring around on her finger to hide the diamonds so that no one would notice it. Betsy knew an expensive piece when she saw one, a couple of her own items of jewellery were real but most of her gems were faux.
Florrie pointed out a cream coloured high necked blouse with a black velvet bow. ‘Look at that one Jim, the stripes going through it match the bow and looks like velvet too, isn’t it lovely?’
‘And where do you think you’ll be going in that?’ Asked Jim showing his boredom already.
A Wanton Tale Page 20