Never Look Back

by Lesley Pearse

  ‘I told you I was,’ she said reprovingly, patting his shaven head. ‘I’m coming all the way to New Jersey to see you settled in. Now, were they all good last night?’

  ‘Ruth’s wet herself,’ he said, pointing to one of the very small girls still fast asleep. ‘She always did that in the castle. That’s why no one liked to sleep by her.’

  ‘Well, she’s only little,’ Matilda said. No one had been able to tell her anything about this child, not even her name. They guessed she was around two and a half, though she was so thin and small she looked much younger. Dr Kupicha had named her Ruth the previous day, and it was pleasing to hear Sidney use the name, a sign, she thought, that he did have a real sense of responsibility for all these children.

  ‘But I got the others to use the pail,’ he said proudly. ‘I’m in charge, see.’

  ‘Then you’d better get them all up now,’ she said, her voice softening with a surge of affection for him. ‘But now you’ll all have to learn to use the privy outside, because that’s much better than a bucket. After that you must all wash your faces and hands before having breakfast.’

  ‘Wash again!’ he said in amazement, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

  ‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘Or there won’t be any breakfast.’

  ‘I thought we’d done all the hard part yesterday,’ Giles admitted wearily to Matilda, as they rode back in the cart to the ferry across the Hudson river. ‘I never expected so many problems. Do you think they will all settle down?’

  Matilda turned her head to look back at the house. It was a plain stone-built building of three floors, surrounded by tall trees, built originally as a pest house for people with infectious diseases. Seen now at dusk, with a cold blustery wind coming in from the Atlantic Ocean, it had a forbidding, bleak appearance. They could almost feel the ghostly presence of all those poor souls who had been taken out there and mostly left to die.

  Yet however harsh it looked from her seat in the cart, however far removed it was from the cosiness of their little house in State Street, Matilda knew the children inside it were in a place of safety at last.

  ‘Of course they will settle down,’ she said. ‘You can’t expect children who’ve never had any kind of discipline before to fall in line immediately. If you’d taken me somewhere like that, instead of to the parsonage in Primrose Hill, I would have legged it straight away.’

  ‘You thought it was that bad?’ he said in horror.

  She laughed. ‘Well, all those spotless floors, the rows of beds and that hard-faced woman in her white pinafore were enough to strike fear into any kid’s heart.’

  ‘Miss Rowbottom came very highly recommended,’ he said indignantly. ‘She cares as much about the plight of slum children as you or I do.’

  ‘I expect she does,’ Matilda retorted. ‘But a smile or two wouldn’t have hurt her. Good job she didn’t see them all yesterday, that’s all I can say.’

  In fact Matilda’s opinion of Miss Rowbottom had improved during the course of the day because she’d found that underneath the frosty appearance was an interesting, intelligent woman. She had come to America as a governess, then moved on to become a teacher in Pittsburgh, but when she’d supported some of her children’s fathers in an attempt to get shorter working hours and higher wages, she had found herself out of a job. Having heard that the Reverend Kirkbright was a humanitarian involved with the Abolitionist movement, she came to New York in the hopes he might be able to help her find employment. She had been somewhat surprised to find herself being offered the post as Matron in a new Home for waifs and strays, but as she told Matilda, the idea excited her.

  ‘I can’t think of many people who could have coped with what we saw yesterday,’ Giles retorted. ‘That’s exactly why we had to get them cleaned up first. But don’t hold that against her, Matty. Not everyone has your strong stomach.’

  ‘I do think she’s a good person,’ Matilda admitted. ‘She’ll be a good teacher and I’m sure she’ll treat the kids fairly. I just would have liked someone a bit more motherly as Matron.’

  They fell into silence, holding on to the sides of the cart as the horse picked its way gingerly along the rutted, muddy lane, jolting them each time the wheels hit a larger rut or hole. The driver was a man called Job, who had escaped from slavery in Virginia and made his way to New York where Kirkbright took him under his wing. He was to be the janitor, odd-job man at the Home. According to Miss Rowbottom, he was a ‘pearl’ who could do anything from felling trees to washing floors. Matilda had already made up her own mind he was an inspired choice for such a position when she’d seen his big face break into a wide, warm smile at the children’s arrival.

  It had been a day of taut anxiety. Two adults in charge of eighteen fearful children had not been enough. Some of the children had been sick on the ferry, a combination of the motion and unusually full bellies. One of the older boys had tried to make his escape when he saw the house, convinced it was a prison, and once inside almost all the children had been cowed and uncooperative. Even Matilda had turned pale at the foul language they used, and most of them forgot they could no longer relieve themselves anywhere they chose.

  Yet there had been some very good moments too. Little faces wide-eyed with astonishment to see fields, trees, and cows, the way they’d gingerly tried out their beds and asked who else would be sharing it. Their delight to find there was another meal waiting for them on arrival, and a big fire in the room which was to be their playroom. Matilda wondered sadly how long it would take before they would stop behaving like little old men and women, move away from the fire and discover the meaning of play. She had got out a box of building bricks and tried to show the younger ones what they could do with them, but they scratched their little shaven heads and just stared at her. When she showed them a picture-book they just looked at it blankly.

  Yet Sidney had been a pillar of strength. He alone seemed delighted with everything, and when any of the others seemed to be getting difficult he stepped in and jollied them along.

  But to Matilda one of the saddest aspects of the day was that she wouldn’t be involved with the children any longer. She might see them again when they brought another bunch to join them, but that would be only fleetingly. Half of her wished she dared ask Giles if she could go and work at the Home, for that way she could mother them all and watch their progress, yet she couldn’t bear to leave Tabitha either, or disappoint Lily by leaving.

  As the ferry pulled away from the jetty, Matilda looked back. It was too dark now to see the house, but she could see Job’s lantern swaying as he rode up the rutted lane. She offered up a silent prayer that Miss Rowbottom wouldn’t turn out to be cruel, that the two girls who were going to help her weren’t as dumb as they looked, and that Job would be brave enough to tell the Reverend Kirkbright if he saw anything amiss.

  Giles was watching Matilda’s face as the ferry got under way, and he was suddenly struck by her beauty. It wasn’t the classical, delicate kind, her features were too strong and her colouring too bold for sedate salons and drawing-rooms, but out here on the river with the wind catching at the tendrils of blonde hair escaping from her bonnet, she was perfection. Such a soft, wide mouth, her nose just faintly tilted at the tip, and plump, rosy cheeks. It saddened him to think she would almost certainly end up marrying a working man and that beauty would be worn away with hard toil and child-bearing, her sharp mind dulled by lack of stimulation. For lovely as she was, despite having learned to speak and behave like a lady, there was something about her direct manner and sharp wit which gave her origins away, and no gentleman of means would consider marrying such a girl, however much he desired her.

  Giles felt a surge of tenderness for her. She had so many gifts – intelligence, compassion, humour and courage. He knew she hadn’t wanted to leave the children tonight, and they hadn’t wanted her to go either. All day he’d been astounded by her patience, how she could soothe one child while still keeping a watchful eye on all the oth
ers, how she could cheerfully clean up a mess that made him blanch, yet gently explain to the offender why he or she must learn not to do it again. In truth he knew he ought to go straight to Kirkbright tonight and tell him that she should be Matron of the Home, and let Miss Rowbottom just be teacher. Matilda had every talent needed for the job, but he knew he couldn’t do it, for he had come to rely on her himself too much, and so had Lily and Tabitha. Besides, he needed her help to get at least another eighteen children out of Five Points.

  Lily Milson was sewing in the kitchen the following afternoon but she was watching Matilda out of the corner of her eye. On the face of it the girl was behaving quite normally, kneading the dough for bread on the table, every now and then bending to Tabitha beside her and showing her how to knead her smaller piece properly. But Lily sensed she wasn’t quite herself, there were no jokes or laughter, and her voice was subdued. She guessed the cause of it was that Matilda was brooding on those children she’d taken to the Waifs’ and Strays’ Home.

  Lily recalled how emotional she’d been about children when she was Matilda’s age, and how she’d longed for the day when she would hold her own baby in her arms. She remembered too how despairing she’d been as the years passed and no man even took an interest in her, let alone wanted to be her sweetheart.

  She thought that perhaps this was what was troubling Matilda today, maybe the recent events had reminded her that she had no young man. Possibly she’d suddenly realized that her entire life could be spent caring for other people’s children, that she might never find love, get married and have a home of her own.

  Thinking on this, Lily felt a stab of guilt that she and Giles relied so heavily on her. Matilda had given up her family to come here to America with them, she had no opportunities to make friends of her own age, and she was probably very lonely.

  ‘Why don’t you go to the dance at the church tonight?’ she said on an impulse.

  Matilda looked up in surprise and wiped a floury hand across her cheek. ‘I can’t go on my own,’ she said.

  ‘You could go with Mrs Arkwright’s maid,’ Lily said. ‘The Italian girl you met at the Bible class.’

  ‘I don’t think her mistress would let her,’ Matilda said with a shrug.

  ‘I think she will if I ask her,’ Lily replied. ‘I could take a stroll along to her house now. She’s always asking me to drop in one afternoon, today is as good a time as any.’

  Matilda smiled. She didn’t much like the idea of the dance, but it would be good to see Rosa again for she’d missed the last class. ‘Well, if you’re sure you won’t need me,’ she said, a touch of excitement banishing her earlier dejection. ‘And you don’t mind asking Mrs Arkwright?’

  ‘It will be a pleasure,’ Lily said, meaning it. She didn’t like the woman one little bit and although it was an unChristian thought, she hoped she would be thoroughly put out by having no one to dress her hair and help her into her vulgar gowns.

  Matilda finished kneading the bread while Lily was gone, and put it to rise on the stove, then after tidying the kitchen she sat down with Tabitha to teach her some words. She had devised a game in which Tabitha picked out something in the house, then whatever the first letter of it was, Matilda got her to find other things beginning with the same sound and wrote them down. Tabitha picked ‘clock’ and Matilda wrote the word and a picture beside it. Soon they had ‘candle’, ‘carrot,’ ‘couch’ and ‘cat’ too.

  The little girl was very quick, she could recognize most letters of the alphabet already, and if Matilda showed her the words from other days, covering up the pictures, she remembered many of them.

  They were just going back to the As when Lily came back. ‘Rosa’s got the evening off,’ she said with a beaming smile. ‘She’ll be along for you at seven. But she has to be back by ten.’

  Matilda was so excited she felt like hugging her mistress. ‘I’ll wear that pretty dress you gave me, the one with the blue flowers,’ she said.

  ‘That’s a day dress,’ Lily said, looking scandalized. ‘No, you must wear that rose-pink taffeta one of mine I was going to make over for Tabitha. I’m sure it will fit you.’

  Just before seven Matilda came downstairs. She felt she couldn’t breathe because Lily had insisted she had to wear stays and pulled them in very tight, but she was prepared to put up with that just for the joy of wearing such a beautiful dress. By her mistress’s standards it was dreadfully unfashionable as it had no hoops in the skirt and the bustle was very small, but for Matilda who was used to wearing navy-blue serge every day, it was glorious and made her feel like a princess. She had plaited her hair and coiled it up around her head, fixing a small pink ribbon above each ear. She just hoped her bonnet wouldn’t spoil it.

  ‘You look lovely,’ Lily said, her small sharp features softening. ‘Now, make sure you dance with anyone who asks you and thank them politely afterwards, even if they have stepped on your toes. But don’t be too forward, Matty dear, and come straight home afterwards.’

  ‘Perhaps I should go to meet them?’ Giles spoke out. It was unthinkable for a lady to be out alone after dark, but he wasn’t sure if this applied to servants.

  ‘I’m told that one of the chaperones always finds someone trustworthy to escort girls home,’ Lily said. She looked at Matilda and smiled. ‘So just mention to one of them that you are Reverend Milson’s nursemaid and they’ll find you someone.’

  At that Rosa knocked on the door, so Matilda slipped her shawl around her shoulders, put on her bonnet and hurriedly left in great excitement.

  The dance was a dismal disappointment. There were dozens more men than women, but most of them old enough to be the girls’ fathers. The ageing pianist played every tune like a funeral dirge and Matilda felt she was attracting too much attention to herself in her pink taffeta. Everyone else, except a few older women and those who were acting as chaperones, were wearing very ordinary dresses. Even Rosa, who had gasped with envy when she saw it and remarked that her green print cotton looked dowdy beside it, looked a great deal happier later to find she was the one in the right clothes.

  Both girls made the best of it and danced with anyone who asked them, but by nine, their feet sore from being trampled on, and weary of being asked questions in halting English, Rosa said she wanted to leave.

  ‘We can’t,’ Matilda said. ‘We have to wait until one of the chaperones finds us someone to walk with us.’

  Rosa grimaced. ‘I surely can’t stand another hour of this,’ she said. ‘Let’s just slip out while no one’s looking and go down to Castle Green.’

  Matilda knew that the Milsons would be horrified if she did such a thing. The concert hall at Castle Clinton was considered a smart place to go, but the Green surrounding it was reported to be crowded with dubious people at night. It was also too cold to go wandering about. But she didn’t want to stay at the dance either, nor did she want her new friend to think her dull and unadventurous.

  Rosa must have sensed her wavering. ‘Come on, you’ve gotta see it or you ain’t seen nothing. I’ll tell one of the chaperones Mrs Arkwright’s coachman is here to collect us.’

  The moment the girls had left the church hall and Matilda heard the familiar sound of a hurdy-gurdy in the distance, her misgivings left her and excitement took their place. The sound was so evocative of London and the freedom she’d enjoyed before going to work for the Milsons. No harm could come to them in just an hour, and she wanted something jolly to take her mind off those children in New Jersey.

  As they turned into the street by the Green the sight that met her eyes thrilled her. It was as good as any street fair in London. Hundreds of people were milling around, hurricane lamps hanging from trees and more on the many stalls made it as light as day, and music was coming from all directions.

  Right in the centre there was a carousel, and as the horses pranced sedately up and down and around, the lamps caught the mirrored central pedestal and made a dazzling light show in the darkness. As they joined the jostlin
g crowd the first thing Matilda saw was a big brown bear dancing on a lead, and she clapped her hands with delight.

  ‘Like it?’ Rosa said, taking her arms and making her do a polka with her to the sound of a gypsy fiddler.

  ‘It’s better than London,’ Matilda gasped, breaking away from the dance because people were looking at them. She didn’t know where to look first, there were so many stalls selling ice-cream, oysters and fruit, and pretty hair ribbons fluttering in the breeze. ‘But I just hope no one recognizes me,’ she added.

  ‘Church people don’t come down here,’ Rosa laughed, nudging her friend to look at a couple of very gaudily dressed women wearing paint on their faces. ‘And if there are, they are probably looking for mischief just like us, so they won’t be telling.’

  ‘I didn’t know New York was like this at night,’ Matilda said, stopping to listen for a minute to a man playing the penny whistle. ‘I got the idea everyone was kind of serious.’

  ‘Serious! New Yorkers?’ Rosa’s dark eyes danced. ‘You’ve only met the snooty ones. You should see the Bowery, that’s wild at night.’

  It occurred to Matilda then that Rosa seemed very worldly for a maid, and it made her feel just a little uneasy, yet after the stuffiness of the dance, it was exhilarating to be in a noisy, carefree crowd.

  A little later Matilda was just going to suggest they had an ice-cream, even though it was really too cold, when two gentlemen in silk hats and frock-coats came up to them.

  ‘Good evening, ladies,’ the taller of the two said, and raised his hat. ‘May we walk with you?’

  Rosa giggled. ‘Certainly, sir,’ she replied, and to Matilda’s surprise she winked at her friend and took the man’s arm.

  Matilda might never have had a young man but she had learnt a great deal about men by observation back in London’s streets. Instinct told her these two men had taken her and Rosa for prostitutes.