The Innkeeper's Daughter

by Val Wood

  ‘Tsk, tsk,’ Reuben Jacobs muttered. ‘But easy to – ein Feuer machen – make fire with so much rubbish. People light fires to keep warm and then fall asleep.’

  Bella put her hand over her nose and mouth as she followed Joe inside. The smell of damp, decay and alcohol was nauseating.

  ‘Ah!’ Joe jumped back and Henry began to wail. Joe had almost fallen over a man curled up on the floor, either dead or asleep.

  Mr Jacobs put his foot out and gave the body a prod with the toe of his shiny black boot. The man rolled over, his gaping mouth showing a few stained teeth. His hair was long and bedraggled, his clothes filthy. He was completely asleep so Joe prodded him in the ribs much harder than Mr Jacobs had done.

  He opened one eye and gazed glassily up at them. ‘Hey!’ He tried to get up but fell back again in a stupor. ‘Thish is private property. No admittance.’

  ‘Get up, you old soak.’ Joe prodded him again. ‘We’ve come to look at our property.’

  A short argument ensued, with the caretaker wanting to see some proof of who they were and Joe telling him brusquely that nobody else in their right mind would want to look round such a neglected place. The caretaker could only agree.

  ‘There’re folk asleep upstairs,’ he grumbled. ‘They’ll not tek kindly to being woken up.’

  ‘Are they paying for their accommodation?’ Mr Jacobs interrupted. ‘If not,’ he turned to Bella and Joe, ‘I can fetch a constable who will help you to evict them.’

  ‘Oh, no, no!’ The caretaker seemed to become suddenly aware of Mr Jacobs’s presence. ‘I’ll get them out, don’t you worry about that, sir.’ He was profuse in his assurances. ‘I know you very well, sir, of course. I know you have authority. This way, if you please.’

  Bella looked gratefully at Reuben Jacobs, very glad that he had come with them. Joe would have lost his temper and she would have been nervous of creating trouble.

  ‘Carter’s my name,’ the caretaker informed them when Joe asked. ‘Brewery asked me to keep an eye on ’place till they found somebody else to tek it on. Onny pay me a pittance.’

  ‘You have a roof over your head, ja?’ Mr Jacobs said. ‘That is gut. Better than sleeping on the streets.’

  Carter glanced warily at him and nodded, and led them into a large room with a counter and a piano and nothing else. It was very dark, with no outside window, just a large glazed pane overlooking a corridor leading to other rooms.

  ‘Where are all ’tables and chairs?’ Bella asked him. ‘I thought this was a public house. Where’s ’ale kept?’

  Carter shrugged, but he looked shifty. ‘Don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘This is how it was when I came.’

  ‘You have sold the furniture, I think?’ Jacobs said. ‘Or burned it.’ He pointed to a blackened fireplace where there had been a recent fire.

  ‘Not me,’ Carter protested. ‘There’s a lot o’ villains about, mebbe when me back was turned.’

  He showed them other rooms, smaller than the main one, and a room with a sink, wall cupboards, a larder and a cooking range, but again no furniture.

  Bella was mentally considering what they would have to bring with them. Her father had bought the tables and benches for the taproom and snugs and the furniture in the kitchen and bedrooms was theirs apart from the cupboards, which were fixed to the walls. So we need to bring practically everything, she thought.

  Carter took them upstairs. Bella fingered the oak handrail; it was stained and greasy but, she thought, would once have been lovely. The stair treads were bare of carpet, and as she looked up the flight she saw that the stair turned at the top and continued up to another landing.

  ‘Wait here a minute while I get ’lads up,’ Carter said. ‘Don’t want to embarrass ’young lady if they’re in a state of undress.’

  ‘I think there is no fear of that,’ Reuben Jacobs murmured. ‘His guests will not have brought night attire with them.’

  And of course he was right; the four men who shuffled out of one of the upstairs rooms had slept in their clothes for many a night, Bella thought, and a more unsavoury unwashed grimy bunch of people she had never seen.

  ‘Out!’ Joe pointed a menacing finger down the stairs. ‘And don’t come back!’

  ‘But Carter said …’ one of them began. ‘He told us—’

  ‘Out!’ Joe repeated. ‘Afore I have ’law on you.’

  They watched them stumble down the stairs and head for the side door. Although Joe wasn’t a big man he obviously had a sobering effect on Carter, who began muttering that he’d never invited them in, and they must have sneaked past him when he wasn’t looking.

  Reuben Jacobs gave a wry smile. ‘I will leave you now,’ he said. ‘I can see you are able to manage quite well on your own. You are not going to be bullied by any Schuft – scoundrel – in spite of your youth.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Mr Jacobs,’ Bella said sincerely. ‘You’ve been so helpful. I hope … that is – perhaps you’ll come and see us again when we move in?’

  He gave her a courtly bow and said he would, and asked where they had come from.

  ‘We live in a small village in Holderness, east of here,’ Bella said. ‘We’ – she encompassed Joe and Henry – ‘and our other brother and sister were born there, but our mother was born in Hull and wants to come back now that she’s widowed. We’re innkeepers and that’s why we’ve come to look at this place. But it’s not at all what we expected to find.’

  Reuben Jacobs nodded. ‘It will be a new life for you,’ he said. ‘You must make the best and the most of it. Viel Glück!’

  ‘Good luck,’ Bella said softly as he disappeared down the stairs. ‘We shall need it. What a nice man, Joe!’

  ‘Friend o’ yourn, is he?’ Carter asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Bella said quickly before Joe could deny it. ‘He is. He’s going to keep an eye on things until we arrive here in a month’s time. In the meantime we shall ask ’brewery to clean up this place. I’m sure they don’t know what sort of state it’s in or that people have been living here.’

  Carter shuffled his feet uncomfortably and then said, ‘I’ll mek a start on it; they might pay me a bit more. I don’t suppose …’ He looked at Joe and then at Bella. ‘I don’t suppose there’d be a job in ’offing when you come? Odd-job man, you know? I’m a hard worker, or I would be.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Joe interrupted. ‘Depends on how it looks when we get here. Floor needs sweeping.’ He looked round and up at the ceiling and then at the one window overlooking the alley. ‘There are no windows overlooking ’street. Why’s that?’

  Carter shrugged. ‘There used to be. Mebbe they got smashed and were bricked up. It was a gaming house at one time,’ he offered, ‘then a doss house. I think it was closed down.’

  Bella and Joe looked at each other; how their mother had been misled. We’re stuck with it, Bella thought. If Ma’s signed a contract we won’t be able to get out of it, not without paying, and she’s given in our notice at the Woodman, so we’ll have to leave.

  They went up another narrow set of stairs, which led into the roof space; it was similar in size to the top floor of the Woodman, and Bella thought that they could possibly make use of it eventually, perhaps as a storeroom.

  She turned away. ‘Come on, Joe,’ she said in a resigned tone. ‘Let’s go home.’

  Joe said they would go back on the Holderness road rather than the toll road and so headed back down Osborne Street. Many of the narrow streets they passed had ash as a surface dressing, and Bella wondered how it was possible to keep clean in Hull. When they came to the Junction Dock they diverted to take a look at the Old Dock, which Carter had told them was one of the biggest in the country. Henry was thrilled at the sight of the massive seagoing vessels, while Joe looked with interest at the warehouses and timber buildings lining the quayside.

  ‘It seems like a big shipping town,’ he conceded. ‘It’ll be like nowt we’ve ever known and I’m not sure if I’ll like it. I thought there’d be a t
own hall, for instance, but I’ve seen nowt that looks like one.’

  ‘Nor theatres,’ Bella said. ‘Nell said there were lots of theatres. There must be lots more to it than we’ve seen.’

  They followed the River Hull again, drawing up to wait at the North Bridge for a vessel to sail through and the drawbridge to be lowered. ‘Look, Bella,’ Henry called out. ‘A big ship in ’water.’

  ‘You’ll see lots more ships, I expect, when we come to live in Hull.’ There were notes of regret in Bella’s voice. ‘You’ll be a town lad, Henry.’

  She glanced at Joe, who had been fiddling with something in his pocket as they waited, and saw him tip a small bottle to his lips, swallow and clip the stopper back on the bottle neck.

  ‘Joe!’ she murmured, as she smelt the alcohol. ‘How could you?’

  ‘I needed it, Bella,’ he muttered. ‘After seeing that dump!’ He indicated over his shoulder with his thumb. ‘Having to face that! It’s enough to drive anybody to drink.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SARAH SEEMED BEMUSED and disappointed that Bella and Joe were not enthusiastic about the prospect of living and working at the Maritime. ‘Bart wouldn’t have got it so wrong,’ she insisted when they told her about the state of it. ‘You’re onny saying this so that I’ll change my mind about going. And I won’t,’ she said emphatically. ‘I want to go back.’

  ‘It’s going to cost money, Ma,’ Bella told her, ‘unless ’brewery will pay for putting it right.’

  ‘They won’t,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I got ’ingoing for a pittance. I told ’em in a letter that we’d pay for repairs and decoration.’

  ‘That was before we’d seen it, Ma,’ Bella said. ‘You’ve been misled. Let me write a letter to them saying that it’s in a poor condition but we’re willing to take it if they’ll put in some investment.’

  Her mother stared at her, clearly considering that she had been offered a lifeline, that she needn’t lose face after all. ‘Your uncle Bart—’

  ‘Can’t have seen it,’ Bella finished for her. ‘He surely wouldn’t have recommended it if he had.’ But why did he, she wondered? What made him suggest it?

  Her mother finally agreed that Bella should write to the brewery in her name, which Bella did with all speed. Time was running out. They would have to clear out the Woodman and tell their customers they were leaving, arrange for a removal waggon to transport their belongings, and then begin the clean-up at the Maritime.

  In her letter, Bella explained that they had understood that the Maritime was an established public house and were greatly distressed and concerned on visiting the premises to find that it was derelict. Without saying that they had been deceived she managed to imply that they had been. She wrote: ‘My late husband and I have run a successful and profitable country inn for over twenty years without hindrance or loss of integrity or honour and expected the same return in the dealings with your esteemed selves. Alas, I am greatly disappointed.’

  She went on, in what she thought was the right tone, to ask for investment in the property so that they could make it into a rewarding and flourishing business, and said that if this wasn’t forthcoming they would consult their lawyers with a view to withdrawing from the contract.

  Bella reread the letter and sat back with an air of satisfaction. Miss Hawkins had given her a book as a school-leaving present called The Universal Letter Writer. It wasn’t a new book but one of the teacher’s own, and Bella hadn’t had the opportunity to use it before, even though she had perused the contents avidly. In this instance it proved to be very useful, and by following the form of ‘Letters on business’ and using words she wouldn’t normally have thought of, she was sure that it would appear to have come from someone older and better educated than she was. She carefully checked her spelling, and, convinced that it was as perfect as she could make it, took it downstairs for her mother to sign.

  Sarah insisted on reading it first and squinted over the contents. Her lips moved as she read and Bella waited anxiously. Then her mother looked up. ‘You never wrote this by yourself, Bella!’

  ‘Of course I did, Ma. Who else could have done it?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know, but it’s a proper letter all right. I didn’t know you could write like this. I wouldn’t have known what to say to ’em.’

  Bella felt a stab of pride, followed by a sensation of disconsolation. No one had taken her seriously when she had wanted to stay on at school and teach the children. Nobody believed me, she thought, except Miss Hawkins, and I know she was disappointed when I told her I had to leave.

  ‘So, it’s all right is it, Ma? You’ll sign it?’

  ‘They’ll think I wrote it, won’t they?’

  Bella hesitated. ‘I’ll write my name at ’bottom, under your signature, if you like,’ she said. ‘And put “innkeeper’s daughter”. Then they’ll know there are two of us to deal with.’

  ‘Three.’ Joe had come into the kitchen and heard some of the conversation. ‘I’ll put my name to what you’ve written.’

  ‘But you haven’t read it,’ Bella said.

  ‘Don’t matter. I’ll sign it anyway, then there’re three of us for them to battle wi’.’

  ‘Let’s hope we don’t have to do battle with anybody,’ she sighed.

  Bella and her mother sorted out cupboards and drawers and put to one side a pile of unwanted clothing, baby clothes which Sarah stated firmly she wouldn’t be needing any more, clean but stained tablecloths and other items which were no longer used. Bella thought she would take them down to the village and ask Alice’s mother to distribute them to anyone who might want them; a polite way of allowing her to choose any items that she might like to keep for herself.

  At four o’clock one afternoon, when it was sunny after a morning of rain and an hour before they opened the door of the inn, she piled everything into a bag and decided that today was as good as any.

  She found her mother in the kitchen resting in an easy chair. ‘I’m going to Mrs Walker’s, Ma. I won’t be long.’

  Her mother nodded. ‘Tell her we’re leaving, and tek her a loaf.’ She raised a finger in the direction of the larder. ‘Tell her I mixed too much dough.’

  ‘I will,’ Bella agreed; her mother still had a soft spot for Ellen Walker even after all this time.

  Her main aim, apart from handing over goods which she was sure Mrs Walker could use or sell, was to ask her to pass on a message to Alice to tell her they were leaving the village. She was very surprised when Alice herself opened the door to her knock.

  ‘Hello,’ Bella said. ‘I didn’t expect to see you. Is it a day off?’

  Alice screwed up her mouth and shook her head. Her eyes were red, and her face was blotchy as if she had been crying.

  ‘Can I come in?’ Bella asked. ‘I’ve come to see your ma.’

  Alice opened the door wider but didn’t speak. Her mother was seated by the fire in a hard chair, feeding a baby. Bella was confused. Was this yet another child? There seemed to be no end to the number of infants Mrs Walker kept bringing into the world and it was difficult to keep count.

  ‘We’re having a clear-out, Mrs Walker; I don’t know if you heard that we’re leaving ’Woodman? Ma wants to go back to Hull where she came from. She said could you give this stuff out to whoever would like it?’

  Ellen Walker gazed at her with tired eyes. ‘I wish I could go back to where I came from,’ she said in a low, sad voice. ‘Back to ’beginning in my ma’s belly and not ever be born.’ She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘There’s been nowt in this life but misery. Can’t think why I was put on this earth.’

  Bella didn’t know what to say. She glanced at Alice, who stood there as if dumb.

  ‘And now our Alice is back home again,’ Mrs Walker went on. ‘Sacked from her job for no reason that I can mek out. So there’s another mouth to feed, for she’ll get no other job wi’out a reference.’

  Bella looked again at Alice, whose eyes began to spout tears. ‘I’m
sorry, Alice,’ she said. ‘So sorry.’ She could guess just how vital her job had been to the family’s income.

  ‘Weren’t my fault,’ Alice said in a strangled voice. ‘Missis wanted a younger lass who’d work for less than I was getting.’ She wiped her face with her apron. ‘I told her that I’d tek a cut in me wages but she said no, she wanted a change o’ face. Miserable old cow,’ she blurted out. ‘Seeing as I spent most o’ time on me hands and knees an’ she nivver saw me face, onny me backside. She should tek a look in ’mirror at her own.’

  She burst into an onslaught of crying and her mother just looked away, resignation etched on her lined face.

  ‘I, erm.’ Bella fished about in the bag. ‘I’ve brought a loaf. Ma said would you have it as she mixed up too much dough.’

  Mrs Walker allowed herself a ghost of a smile. ‘There’s no need to mek excuses, miss,’ she said softly. ‘I lost any pride I had long ago. I’ll tek owt that’s on offer if it means I can feed m’bairns.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Alice sniffled. ‘I mean, are you tekking another hostelry?’

  ‘Yes.’ Bella nodded. ‘At least – yes! It needs a lot of work. Brewery, or at least ’last tenant, has left it in a mess. We’re waiting to hear from them.’

  ‘Can I come wi’ you?’ Alice’s plea caught Bella unawares and she blinked. ‘I can help,’ Alice said. ‘I’m good at cleaning, scrubbing floors, owt. I’ve even cleaned out ’cow shed at ’farm.’

  ‘Well – well, it’s up to Ma,’ Bella began, but she was struck by the thought that they would need somebody. She couldn’t be everywhere and do everything herself and the Maritime would have to be made liveable and workable if they took it; her mother would look after the cooking and baking, Joe wouldn’t do very much except in the cellar unless she could get him off his drinking, and she discounted Nell who was always missing if there was a job to be done. ‘Can I let you know? As I said, we’re waiting to hear from ’brewery.’ She gave her friend a beaming smile. ‘It would be good if you could come, Alice. I’d like that.’