by Anne Brear
Peggy used the back of her hand to push away strands of her sweat-soaked ginger hair. “We wash everything that comes in from the kitchen. We’ve got to have the cauldrons full at all times and on the boil. We never wash with cold water. Under each sink are scrubbing brushes, soaps and pots of baking sodas. All that you need.” Peggy went back to her sink and poured the hot water in. “We wash glassware first and then the china, but that’s been done for today. Nancy and I will wash the cutlery now and then start on the pots and pans. If you stand on the other side of Nancy you can dry what we wash. You’ll find there are containers for each type, spoons, forks and all that.” Peggy bent over the sink to work and Aurora went to stand beside Nancy.
“There’s the towels,” Nancy murmured, pointing a wet gray-sludged hand to a rack above their heads filled with white towels. “When you have a full tray place it on the stand by the door, someone will come and get it.”
Aurora smiled in thanks and reached for a towel. The women grew quiet as they worked. Hot steam from the sinks caused them to sweat and Aurora’s blouse stuck to her like a second skin, while strands of her wet hair lay against her forehead and face, irritating her.
“You’re lucky to start so late in the day,” Peggy said, heaving a copper pot out of the water. “You’ve missed most of the work.”
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Aurora replied with a determined nod.
The following morning, she arrived at the eatery as promised. She’d woken early, gone to fill the buckets at the tap, eaten a boiled egg for breakfast and left the house while Sophia still slept. Her back ached and her arms were sore to lift above her head, but she was resolved to work as others did. Money was needed and it didn’t fall out of the sky. Earning it was the only way to get them out of the lane and into the clean countryside.
“Morning, Aurrie.” Nancy and Peggy chorused on seeing her. They both wore drab clothes of dark colors, their boots unpolished. “Did you sleep like the dead?”
“I did, yes.” She grinned, forgetting about clothes and appearances. What people wore to work was hardly worth thinking about. Soon they’d be sweaty and mucky and although Aurora had taken care with tying up her hair and sponging her black skirt, she knew that here, she wasn’t being judged and it felt rather liberating.
“Hurry up, Mademoiselles.” Claudio, the chef, put his head around the doorway from the kitchen. “My pans will not clean themselves.” He twirled the long ends of his very busy moustache. “If you behave I might bring you in a pastry fresh from the oven!” He kissed the tips of his fingers and spun away.
Aurora donned her apron and wondered what their reaction would be if she suddenly spoke in French to Claudio. Her smile faded. Speaking French was in the past and wouldn’t help her now, but just for a moment she forgot where she was, who she was and in her head spoke a few sentences of the chef’s language.
“Come on, Aurrie,” Peggy called from the fire. “Give us a hand.”
While they worked Peggy explained that Claudio and the kitchen staff came in before dawn to bake the tasty pastries and soft breads that had a reputation as the best in York. And which was why at only seven in the morning, the scullery was brimming with dirty pots, pans, trays, boilers, enamel bowls and numerous other utensils a busy kitchen needed to prepare for the day’s trading ahead.
“Have you run away from home, or were you thrown out?” Peggy asked, scrapping sauce off a bowl.
Aurora blushed at her directness. “I left, but it is complicated.”
“Well, it always is, isn’t it? Still, you aren’t the first and won’t be the last.”
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” She looked from one to the other. “I don’t want anyone knowing about me.”
“It’s none of our business, is it, Nancy?” Peggy answered for them both. “Make sure you stay away from that toad Mervin Ellerton though. He likes the girls, if you know what I mean? And he likes the pretty ones like you even more.”
“Is he Mrs Ellerton’s husband?”
“Aye, but he acts as though he’s a single man. He’s twelve years her junior do you know? And he’s got his hands up more skirts than a dressmaker.”
Aurora stared as Peggy roared with laughter and made crude jokes.
Peggy, giggling and wiped her eyes and looked at Aurora. “Don’t worry, just keep him at arm’s length and never go anywhere with him or your belly will be swelling before you know it.”
Swiftly ducking her head, Aurora didn’t comment and concentrated on stacking piles of clean plates.
More trays were brought in and the three of them became too busy to talk any more. Within an hour, Aurora’s back ached. By the time they had a short break four hours later, the ache was so violent she thought she’d never stand up straight again.
A kitchen girl brought in a tray holding three cups of tea and three plates of thick meat sandwiches and three jam tarts. Aurora copied Nancy and Peggy by grabbing her teacup, the plate and tart. She followed them out into the back courtyard, where they sat in the warm July sunshine on upturned crates.
“We sit out here when it’s nice,” Peggy stated, sipping her tea. “We can get a refill of tea, too, in case you’re wondering. Claudio knows how hard we work and he turns a blind eye to it. Tomorrow we’ll likely have soup and bread. We get whatever is served in the dining room, you see.”
“Despite the hard work, it seems a good place to work then?” Aurora asked, her sandwich of sliced beef and pickles quickly disappearing. She’d never been so hungry in her life.
“It’s not so bad as long as Mervin keeps his distance,” Peggy told her between mouthfuls. “Mrs Ellerton is a craggy old cow, a right tartar, but she runs a good business and makes plenty of money. Though Mervin adds to it in his own way.” She snorted in disgust.
“Oh?” She was yet to encounter the mysterious Mervin.
“Aye, he manages to … well, how can I say this …” Peggy frowned. “He has his own side business happening.”
Nancy grunted, revulsion on her small freckled face. “It’s a disgrace if you ask me. I wish I’d never found out about it.”
“It’s York’s worst kept secret true enough.” Peggy bit into her sandwich.
Genuinely puzzled Aurora stared blankly at her, but then remembered Mrs Murphy’s warning that Ellerton might walk the wrong side of the law.
Peggy swallowed. “He sells babies.”
“Pardon?” Aurora leaned closer, certain she’d misheard. “What does he sell?”
“Babies.”
“I don’t understand.”
Peggy swallowed a mouthful of tart down with a sip of tea. “He gets girls in the family way. He enjoys preying on the girls who work here, and in the factories across the river, and has his way with them. Or he’ll use sluts and sometimes even wives whose husbands are away with work. He also finds girls who are already in trouble and helps them get rid of the kids when their born.”
“Oh, my Lord.” Aurora screwed her face up in loathing. “How is it possible for him to do such a thing?”
“He’s a handsome chap, you see, and has all the right patter for the lasses.” Peggy shrugged her thin shoulders. “If they’re stupid enough to think he’ll leave Mrs Ellerton for them, then they deserve being brought down.”
“Brought down?”
“Aye, he’s in his element when they’re with child. He gets his rocks off and makes a profit. You see, he persuades them to give him the baby and he sells the baby to good families.”
Aurora felt her mouth drop open. Peggy spoke so casually she thought she was imagining it all. “He actually sells the babies? Are you sure?”
“Oh aye. Makes a good sum and all with them. I think he enjoys having all these kids running about that are his. He’s mad.”
“That’s appalling. Someone should tell the police.”
“There’s a certain high up policeman who has one of the kids himself. His wife kept miscarrying.” Peggy finished her tart. “Anyway, the girls don’t want the babies, and ther
e are good families in need of them. Farmers always want boys, you know, to carry on working the land. It’s the same with the toff’s, who need a boy child for the family business. There’s the odd wealthy family in the district that have an Ellerton baby in their nest, you can believe that all right.”
“But he…I mean, it isn’t right.”
“The girls shouldn’t be so daft then, should they, and drop their drawers for him. He’s not raping them, he has no need to. Lies roll off his tongue and they lap them up.”
“They still should have some protection from men such as him.”
“Protection?” Peggy laughed. “You’re not from around here, are you? You speak like you’ve been educated, but you’re as green as grass about the real world.” She drained her cup and climbed off the crate. “Come on, let’s get back to it. We’ll have another break at four o’clock. I wonder what we’ll have to eat then?”
Aurora, slightly stupefied, plodded stiffly after Peggy and the quiet Nancy back into the scullery. How had she managed to end up working in a place such as this where a man was allowed to sell babies? She placed a hand on her own slight swell and promised it would never happen to her.
As the afternoon and evening wore on, she grew more exhausted and fell behind in her work. Desperate to avoid Mrs Ellerton’s rage or even her appearance in the scullery, she tried valiantly to continue. At their four o’clock break, she was too tired to eat the baked potatoes or the egg custard and merely sipped at the tea, wishing with all her heart she had taken Sophia’s advice and stayed at home.
A rough hand shook her shoulder and she opened her eyes to find she was sprawled across the crates and Peggy peering at her. “Come on, it’s time to go back.”
“I can’t, Peggy,” Aurora’s voice broke with tears.
“Don’t be soft. You have to.” Peggy dragged her up by the arm. “We’ve not long now. It’ll be seven o’clock before you know it. In winter we shut at five. So there’s something to look forward to.”
Somehow, she managed to walk and not crawl back into the building. The activity in the kitchen wasn’t as insistent as during the morning, though Claudio was still issuing orders at a rapid rate.
With dogged determination, Aurora made it through to seven o’clock. If she hadn’t been so worn out, she would have smiled with happiness of lasting out the first full day. Instead, she caught an omnibus to take her as far as Walmgate and then trudged down George Street and into the lane. She was aware of the women staring at her. Dilys called out something, but Aurora was too tired to acknowledge the greeting. She fumbled with the key and let herself in. The house was quiet and cool. Sophia was at work. Climbing the stairs, swaying with exhaustion, Aurora staggered into her room and collapsed on the bed and was asleep instantly.
Dilys crossed the cobbles and banged on the Murphys’ door. Anthony came out already tugging on his hat. “Right lad, she’s home, get yourself up to The Yellow Moon and let Sophia know.”
“Righto, Mrs Potter.”
Dilys found the door unlatched at number nine and went in. All was quiet downstairs and so she pulled herself up the stairs, cursing her weight, and stole into Aurora’s room. The poor girl was lying on her side on the bed still wearing her coat and shoes. Her face pale and shadows of fatigue under her eyes.
Tutting as a mother would, Dilys took off Aurora’s shoes and heaved the girl up to take off her coat before putting her under the blankets. “Welcome to the real world, lass.”
Chapter Thirteen
Reid lifted his head from the paperwork on the desk and looked across at his father lying in the large double bed. The nurse they employed was down in the kitchen having a break and he was happy to take over her role for an hour.
His father’s hand moved and Reid immediately went to his side. “Can I get you something, Father?”
“Son…”
“It’s Reid, Father.” He bent low, gripping his father’s hand, willing him to recover. For months they thought he’d recuperate to his old self, and he’d even gone downstairs on a few occasions, but one set back after another in the last weeks had stripped away the robust intelligent man, the power head of the Sinclairs, and left a faded shell behind. “Would you like some water?” His father’s blue parched lips alarmed him. He poured a glass of water from the tray at the bedside and helped him up to sip at it. As always, his father’s thin frame filled him with sorrow, a mere shadow of the healthy man he once was.
“Better.”
“Good.” Reid smiled, returning the glass to the tray. “Do you need anything else?”
“More time…” His father stared at him, his eyes clearer now than they had been for days. “I didn’t finish it all.”
“Finish what?”
“America.”
Nodding with understanding, Reid straightened the pillows slightly. “I know, but I can do it. You trust me to set the businesses up and run them successfully, don’t you?”
“You’re the only one who ... can.” He closed his eyes, the strength leaving him. “So sorry, Reid…”
“Please, Father, you mustn’t worry. I am known now to our partners in New York. They are sending me reports and the building of the new hotel will be finished by Christmas.”
His father’s eyes popped open as though he’d just remembered something. “Your mother…”
“I’ll take care of her.”
“Don’t let her bully you.” He took a shuddering breath. “She is too strong for a woman…Lead your life…”
“Rest, Father.”
“I loved her from the first moment, too much so ... Gave her a free rein.” He paused, his breath shallow. “Wrong to do so.”
“Sleep now.” Reid crooned, silently begging his father to rest, to regain his strength, his health, his life.
“She loves you ... all very much. Never forget that.”
“We know.” He patted his father’s blue veined hand, amazed at how old it looked when at the beginning of the year it had been strong.
“I want her to be ... happy, Reid.” His father licked his dry lips. “She won’t like being ... a widow. It won’t suit her.”
“Mother will be fine, I promise. I’ll take care of her and the boys.”
“The boys…”
“I’ll watch over them, Father, guide them the best I can, as you did me.”
“Proud of you.” They locked gazes until his father’s eyelids drooped and he finally dozed off. Reid carefully placed his father’s hand on top of the blankets and stood watching him for a moment. Satisfied his father slept comfortably, he went to the window and looked out over the Kensington Street. Below, people walked by, a carriage trundled past. Across the road, a maid opened the door to callers. All normal activities he felt removed from.
The July sun baked the capital and he wished he was in Yorkshire riding out along fields or even fishing beside a gurgling stream, but there was no hope of that for some time. He knew without the doctor’s confirmation that his father wouldn’t last much longer. He’d tried to prepare his family for it, but his mother blatantly refused to believe it. She tried to inject her own will of steel into her husband in the hope he’d rally. Whenever Reid tried to broach the subject of the future without his father, she refused to discuss it and would leave the room. He knew of her heartache, for he suffered it also. He was not only losing his father, but had already lost the woman he loved.
He leaned his shoulder against the window frame and, as always, his thoughts drifted to Aurora. What was she doing at this very minute? Shopping with her elderly Aunt? Reading? Perhaps strolling through a garden somewhere? He’d written to Winnie asking for an address to write to Aurora, but received no reply.
He rubbed his chest as though to erase the ache that lingered there. Why had Aurrie turned from him? Why didn’t she write back at least once? None of it made sense. Did she regret the night in the woods? He knew what courage it must have taken her to give herself to him, to cross that final barrier and he loved her all
the more for it, not less. He’d written to her thanking her for the most precious gift she could give him. He again spoke of them getting married. Surely she wasn’t ashamed, or doubted his intentions? Perhaps she did and he groaned with the agony of it. Did she understand why he remained in London and how the businesses, the family needed him more than ever?
His father gave a long sighing breath from the bed. Reid watched him, but his mind couldn’t dismiss Aurora altogether. He couldn’t rest until he had answers from her, but he couldn’t find her until his father recovered or…died.
He bowed his head and rubbed his chest harder.
Aurora wiped the perspiration from her forehead and plunged the pan back into the sink of hot water. She’d been working at the eatery for three weeks and, at the end of each day, she flopped into bed and pledged she wasn’t returning. But the dawn would break the next morning and she’d stagger out of bed to go to work. She wasn’t sure why she did it. Sophia begged her daily not to go, even the women of the lane said she was mad. However, something inside her forced her to go. She had to prove it to everyone that she could do it, but more than that, she had to prove it to herself. Women worked hard here and in the tenements around the lane. How could she not do the same and live amongst them? Her pride wouldn’t allow her to do nothing.
“Ahh, my favorite girls in all the world.” Mervin Ellerton came up the back steps and through the open door into the scullery.
Aurora’s flesh crawled at the mere sight of him, though she understood how others might be attracted to him. He had charm and good looks, in a dark swarthy way, and wore the best of clothes. His smile revealed large white teeth and when he spoke to you he looked you directly in the eyes and made you think he hung on your every word.
“Peggy, my dearest girl, do up your top buttons or you’ll lead me to impure thoughts.” He grinned audaciously.
“Nay, it takes less than a few loose buttons to have you dropping your trousers, Merv Ellerton.” Peggy gave him a saucy look. “Besides, it’s too bloody hot in here. We’re frying.”
“Then perhaps,” his voice lowered seductively, “you should take your dress off altogether?”