Love and Other Wicked Games (A Wicked Game Novel)

by Olivia Fuller

  “We’re taking a carriage now because I’ve come to my senses. And we’re also going a bit farther than I, for one, would like to walk.”

  “I thought we were going to the cotton mills.”

  “Oh, we are. I promised you that so I’ll take you, but we won’t be staying there for long.”

  “What do you mean? Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere even better. A surprise. Somewhere I hope you will always remember.”

  Ellie shivered, but it wasn’t a happy feeling. She felt a chill setting into her bones and she didn’t like anything about the way it made her feel. There were so many things she wanted to ask him now. So many things she needed to know, but for the first time since she’d met him, she actually felt scared. Not of him, not ever, but of the way he was acting. It was like he was setting his final affairs in order in anticipation for a major change.

  Neither of them said another word as the carriage bumped along London Road north to where it became Piccadilly near the commercial district, and then west where it turned into Market Street jutting through the city center—just south of Withy Grove and Shudehill where they’d spent most of their time at meetings—and then to where it intersected with Deansgate, which they took north.

  Somewhere along the way they left Deansgate for a road Ellie did not recognize, the bump of the cobblestone became soft earth, and the path they traveled became narrower and darker. In some places they we unable to pass as the covered walkways held barely enough room for a single person let alone a carriage and horses. In those areas they were forced to loop back around on yet another unrecognizable street until at last Ellie heard the sound of slow moving water and her nostrils were filled with the scent of death and decay. She wrinkled her nose and gulped, trying to hold back the convulsions of her stomach. She’d been wrong to think that she smelled death before this moment. Here the stagnant scent of waste and unbridled putrefaction was unmistakable. It was something she would never forget.

  Ellie leaned against the window of the carriage for a better look as the carriage slowed its pace. She could see that they were now on a bridge and she craned her neck to look over the low barricade.

  “This is Ducie Bridge,” Cal informed her as her eyes jutted around in the darkness, “And that’s the River Irk.”

  Ellie gagged and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket to cover her nose and mouth.

  “Why is the water that color? Is it just because there’s so little light?”

  “Oh, I wish I could tell you that but I’m afraid that would not even be close to the truth. That color comes from the waste. From the people, from the factories, and from the mills. There are also several tanneries around here, which is part of what you’re smelling.” Cal’s face twitched as he pointed to the south bank of the river. “And over there, are just a few of the many rows of houses in this area.”

  Ellie felt her stomach drop. “Those? Those are houses?” she asked as she squinted her eyes and tried to take it all in. “But some of them are coming right out of the river! That one doesn’t even have a roof! And that one… well, the bottom floor seems to be wide open to the elements with filth flowing right inside… And look at all those people crowded around that one… They can’t all live there can they?” Her jaw slacked. Though she’d learned about the sharing of rooms at the union meetings, it had never even occurred to her to ask the size of the rooms. The one she could see now looked barely bigger in length and width than a tall man. “I can see from here that room barely holds a bed…”

  “This place, the closest to the factories and mills, this is the worst. So much of it is built up on the old structures and has been long forgotten about as the city grew and the wealthy moved outward. But it’s still here, crumbling around these men and women.”

  “Can we get out of the carriage?”

  “No.” Cal shook his head rapidly. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. Withy Grove and Shudehill were bad enough, but this area… it’s not the sort of place you should really walk through unless you belong, especially not at night.”

  “But you said no one will—”

  “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be cautious. You can see whatever you want, I’ll point it out, but we’re staying in the carriage. You can see much of the area from here on the bridge, which is why I brought you here.”

  “But I wanted to see the mills…”

  “And you can. From here. But you said you needed an image to hold in your mind. You said you wanted to see the mills, but the mills do not stand on their own. They are held in place by these people and so I wanted you to see how the worst of them live. We’re only as strong as the weakest of us and there’s no place weaker than Long Millgate and its adjacent areas.” Cal tilted his head. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He nodded. And so, for the next half hour or so Ellie asked questions about the area and Cal answered, occasionally pointing to the right or left of the river for a visual as he explained.

  He told her about the factories, mills, tanneries, and so forth explaining that the sewage they produced had no place to go but the streets and the rivers. He pointed out several places where the water was blocked up nearly to a standstill and bubbles of gas popped up through the sludge. He even pointed out several of the Duke of McAlister’s mills along the waterway and the large areas of buildings he owned where his workers lived. Just the thought of him made Ellie shudder and she saw Cal wince at her discomfort.

  She also learned about the irregular construction of the neighborhoods. For someone unfamiliar with the area it was easy to become lost in the twist and turns of homes and alleyways, or to be taken unaware by the irregularly shaped spaces amid the buildings.

  “Between many of the buildings,” Cal told her, “are courtyards of varying sizes. But they’re not the type of courtyards and alleyways you’re used to. These places aren’t used for leisure because they’re rather often full of standing water and foul waste from any number of sources. In some of those places the smell is even worse than it is here on the bridge as privies are few and far between. And the ones that are in use are constantly full and without proper ventilation.”

  He also told her more about the people and the buildings they called home too. She’d learned quite a bit on her own talking with the workers and their families at the meetings. But in those situations, the people had been far removed from their normal lives and Ellie had been forced to rely on her own interpretations of their descriptions. When Ellie tried to picture what she had been told about the living quarters she always imagined them to be in much the same state as the meeting locations and their surrounding areas. But the fact of the matter was that none of the places they had visited had been homes.

  From where they were now, Ellie was finally able to put a visual with the descriptions she had been given and confirm the fear she’d had all along that the living conditions were much worse than she could have ever imagined. Even at this time of night there were huddled masses of people on the streets alongside the buildings she now knew were homes. Light flickered here and there and she realized after a while that what she was seeing were small fires in the roads which the people were gathered around. She could see the smudges and grime of their face in the flashes of light and the utter disrepair of their clothing. In every direction were piles of garbage from various sources. Not only were stray animals digging through the waste for food, but here and there she could see children doing the same.

  She wiped at a tear on her cheek and breathed deeply to hold back the sobs.

  “Why are they outside?” she eventually asked Cal.

  “There isn’t ventilation in most of the rooms either and with so many people packed into such a small space the temperature rises quickly.”

  “So why the fires then?”

  “It’s too hot inside and too cold outside. They’re trying to find a balance. I’d say it’s also a form of security. It provides some light and some comfort in the dark.” />
  “Security from what?”

  “Anything and everything. Most of the people are good at heart, you know, you’ve met some of them, but desperation can make people do things they would never do otherwise… which is why, like I said, it would not be safe for us to get out of the carriage.”

  From this point on Ellie could not do anything but sit silently and listen to Cal.

  By the time he was done explaining everything he wanted her to know, the burden she felt was so heavy that she no longer even noticed the smells or the darkness that surrounded her. All she could feel was the sadness and despair. All she wanted to do was cry. But she could not cry and give up. She wanted to cry and wipe her eyes and do something. It didn’t feel right to go home to her warm bed and family and plentiful meals while these people lived here like this. But it wasn’t as if she could wave her hands and immediately make everything better for these people. It was going to take years of hard work and Ellie had no idea where to even start.

  It was for this reason that she couldn’t stop herself, and after Cal bid the carriage driver to move along she moved closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. As the carriage swayed along towards an unknown destination she braided her fingers into his, and to her surprise he put his arm around her, pulling her close. She tried to choke back the tears but she wasn’t able to. Her body shook painfully as the tears ran down her face.

  “Shhh… Shhh…” He smoothed her hair, holding her against him, and everything changed. If only for a moment, she felt the tension of the entire night break and release them both.

  “Tell me, Cal,” she began later, as the carriage continued to rock them back and forth and her tears finally subsided. “What would you do? We’ve been working at this together for weeks now and I know you’ve been working on this even longer. With what you’ve learned now, what would you do? If you had the power to do anything at all, what would it be?”

  He didn’t answer right away, patting her side instead. She looked up to him, curious, and for the first time tonight, she saw him smile. A real genuine, heartwarming smile. “It seems you have spoiled my surprise.”

  “You have a surprise for me?”

  “Didn’t I say that already?”

  “Oh. Yes. I suppose you did.” She chewed her lip. “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you. That would spoil it.”

  “Please?” she asked with a smile, playfully nuzzling her head against him.

  “No. Not yet. This is worth the wait.”

  Ellie could think of several things that were supposed to be worth the wait, none of which she agreed with. “But maybe—”

  “No,” Cal said. And he continued to stroke her head and pat her side in silence as the carriage made a path through the city. After some time, Ellie looked out the window only to realize that they were on the edge of the city and would soon be passing through the villages on the outskirts.

  “Are you running off with me?” she teased, only half joking.

  “No, my dear. I shall have you safe in your bed again by morning.”

  Ellie didn’t like this answer at all. “What if I don’t want to be safe in my bed by morning? What if I want to be in your—”

  She felt Cal shudder and then stiffen against her. “No,” he said once more. “No.”

  Measured amounts of the earlier tension were returning to his body and so Ellie held her tongue, afraid that he would become cold again and push her away. Instead she did everything she could to take in all of him and this moment. She concentrated on the way he felt so warm and safe against her, and the way he always smelled spicy, but most importantly she concentrated on the way he made her feel about herself. Confident, safe, and secure. An hour must have passed by in silence—even still it was not nearly long enough for Ellie—before Cal tapped the top of the carriage and called to the driver.

  Cal sat up abruptly as the carriage jerked to a stop. He looked around, with a new energy apparent on his face. “We’re here,” he told her. “We’re here.”

  He jumped out of his seat and rounded the carriage. Ellie rubbed her eyes and looked out the window but she wasn’t able to see much through the darkness of the night. Her door opened quickly and before she even had a chance to exit on her own, Cal grabbed her arm and removed her from the carriage. Ellie stumbled slightly before she was able to right herself and take in her surroundings.

  She stood in place for a moment and then, when nothing about the situation became clear she turned around in a circle. First to her right and then her left. There was no light out here save for the stars and the small sliver of moon but there was one thing that was apparently clear.

  “We’re—we’re in a field! An empty field.”

  “Exactly!”

  Ellie cocked her head to the left and lifted her eyebrow. “Why?”

  “Oh,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Look around! Haven’t you any imagination?”

  “Of course I do! But it would be helpful to at least know a category!”

  “Oh. Oh yes. I suppose the excitement has caused me to get ahead of myself.”

  Ellie just looked at him.

  “You asked what I would do if it was up to me. Now that I know what I know, if I could do anything at all to the help the people what would it be. What would I change.”

  “Yes…”

  “Well, the answer is simple: nothing. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  “What?” Ellie tapped her hand against her ear unable to believe what she was hearing. “What do you mean you wouldn’t change a thing? Then—then what was the point? What was all of this? What—what—”

  “Wait, wait, wait Ellie. Let me finish.”

  She crossed her arms. “Alright then.”

  “Do you trust me, Ellie?”

  “Of course I do,” she answered slumping her shoulders.

  “Alright then.” Cal rubbed his hands together rapidly. “If there is one thing I have learned from all of the information you’ve helped me gather, it’s that the condition of the workers’ neighborhoods and the mills are too far gone to change anything. The neighborhoods are in such a state of disrepair over such a large area and their current state is perpetuated by the rest of the city…” Cal began to pace and talk more rapidly. It was becoming apparent that he’d been thinking about this for a while and had much to say about it.

  “I mean, I’m sure it could be done if someone spent massive amounts of money to clean up the river or rebuild the homes or clean up the streets. But there are many problems with that idea. For one, it’s not as if they could use the existing structures. They’d have to all be torn down which would be more money, and then rebuilt from the ground up which would be more money. And as far as cleaning things up, that will only work for so long, because unless someone has enough money to clean up the entire city of Manchester and somehow maintain the cleanliness everywhere, which again would take massive amounts of money—more than anyone I know has at their disposal—then eventually the filth and the grime and the state of disrepair would return…”

  “So what are you proposing?”

  “Have you ever heard of a man named Robert Owen?”

  “No.” Ellie shook her head. “I haven’t.”

  “What about New Lanark?”

  “Haven’t heard of that name either. Sorry.”

  Cal nodded. “Alright, so. New Lanark is a small cotton mill town in South Lanarkshire, Scotland that was founded by David Dale in the late 1700s. He had a fairly philanthropic approach to his business practices which inspired his son-in-law…”

  “Robert Owen?” Ellie asked.

  “Yes. Exactly. So, in the early 1800s Dale sold the town to Owen, who continued to improve upon his father-in-law’s work. When Owen took ownership, both the town and its mills were already in a fairly decent condition, especially when compared to other mill towns. But Owen wanted to do better. He knew he could do better. But—and here’s the key—” Cal said stopping for a moment to hold up a fi
nger, “—he didn’t presume to know everything they wanted and needed: he asked them, working side by side with them in some cases to improve their lot. Especially the children. He was particularity moved by their plight.”

  “So, what did he do for them?”

  “Oh… oh so much!” Cal threw his hands in the arm and spun around. “He set up schools for the children and charities to help the towns-people who were in need. He severely limited the sale of alcohol to cut down on drunkenness, he refused to participate in the truck system—”

  “Truck system?”

  “Where employers don’t pay their workers with real money. Instead they pay them in company money that can only be used in the company store. It was a way to keep the workers subservient and prevent them from raising their position or leaving to go work elsewhere.”

  “Oh, that’s awful.”

  “Exactly, which is exactly why Owen refused to participate. Instead he set up cooperative shops where he bought goods in bulk so the workers could buy high quality goods at lower prices. And instead of pocketing the savings he passed them along to the workers. But he didn’t stop there. Remember what I was telling you earlier about the layout of the buildings and the irregular alleyways and courtyards?”

  “Yes.” Ellie wrinkled her nose, remembering.

  “That’s all due to improper city planning as the city grew. So, Owen also made sure that the growth and structure of the city were extensively planned, that everything from schools to mills and housing were all laid out in the most effective manner. Eventually he even bought out his partners so that they couldn’t restrict him in his plans. And then he did even more. He did so much more,” Cal’s eyes glazed over for a moment and Ellie could see just how in awe he was. “But the point of all of this is that before long—and much to everyone’s surprise—the workers, the mills, and the town were vibrant and prosperous. People came from all over to observe his practices.”