Pauper's Gold

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘I think he did at first, but only out of kindness. I think him and that nice constable at the station wanted to know I was all right. But once he set eyes on Nell . . .’ Hannah laughed.

  ‘And you don’t mind?’ Bessie asked seriously.

  Hannah shook her head. ‘Oh no. Not a bit. I like Jim ever so much, but . . . but he wasn’t for me.’

  For a brief moment she closed her eyes and she could see Luke’s face in her mind’s eye, see them running hand in hand up the hills above the mill, could almost feel the wind in her hair.

  ‘You still haven’t forgotten that lad at the mill, ’ave you?’ Bessie said softly. Her face, illuminated by the soft glow from the fire, was full of sympathy.

  ‘No,’ Hannah said huskily. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever forget him.’

  ‘Don’t spend your life grieving for him, love. He wouldn’t have wanted that, would he?’

  Hannah sighed. ‘I don’t suppose so.’ She was on the point of confiding in Bessie, on the point of confessing that one day she intended to go back to the mill, when a knock came at the back door.

  Bessie gave an irritated tut. ‘Now who can this be at this time of night?’

  ‘Sit still,’ Hannah said, jumping up. ‘I’ll go. And whoever it is, they’ll get a piece of my mind, disturbing folks this late.’

  She threw the door open, an angry remark ready on her lips. Flo Harris, her arms folded across her thin chest, stood there. ‘Is Bessie still up? There’s summat I have to tell ’er.’

  ‘Can’t it wait till morning? We’re both dead on our feet. We’ve been up since five.’

  ‘No, it won’t wait. An’ she won’t want it to when she hears what I’ve got to tell her.’

  Hannah sighed. ‘You’d better come in, then.’

  Flo marched into the house, pushing her way past Hannah. There was a strange air of suppressed excitement about her. Whatever it was, she couldn’t wait to tell it, but, following her into the room, Hannah had the uncomfortable feeling that this was not going to be pleasant news for Bessie. Flo was triumphant. Yes, that was the word. Triumphant.

  ‘Hello, Flo.’ Bessie, despite her tiredness, raised a cheery smile of welcome for her neighbour. ‘What brings you round at this time of night when most good folks are in their beds?’

  ‘Ah, now you’ve hit the nail right on the head there, Bessie Morgan.’ Flo stood on the hearthrug in front of Bessie. ‘When all good folks should be in their beds.’

  ‘Oh, sit down, do, Flo. I’m getting a crick in me neck looking up at yer.’

  Hannah closed the door quietly and came to stand behind Bessie’s chair whilst Flo took the one near the fire where Hannah had been sitting.

  ‘So? What’s this important news that won’t wait till morning?’

  Flo leaned forward and her eyes gleamed with jubilance. ‘I’ve seen your Peggy.’

  Thirty-Four

  For a moment there was utter silence in the room, then Bessie gave a cry and fell back in the chair. Swiftly, Hannah knelt beside her. ‘Auntie Bessie, are you all right?’ Even in the shadowy light from the fire, the girl could see that Bessie had turned pale and she was holding the palm of her hand flat against her chest as if she had a pain.

  Angrily, Hannah turned to Flo. ‘Why did you blurt it out like that? You could’ve been a bit more tactful.’

  ‘Huh! Sorry, I spoke,’ Flo said, making as if to get up and leave, but Hannah stood up and pushed her back into her chair. Standing over her, she said in a threatening tone, ‘Oh no, you stay right where you are and tell us it all.’

  ‘When . . . when did you see her?’ Bessie gasped, still holding her chest. ‘And where?’

  Flo settled back, enjoying her moment of glory. She was sure of their full attention now. ‘It was near the pub. I’d just gone to fetch Harry his pint. He has one every night ’afore ’ee goes to bed. Just the one, mind you, I wouldn’t like you to think ’ee’s a drinker.’

  If the situation had not been so fraught, Bessie might well have laughed out loud at this. The whole street knew that Harry Harris spent most evenings in the pub and only staggered home at closing time. The jug of beer that Flo fetched most nights from the pub in the street round the corner was for herself.

  ‘Get on with it,’ Hannah muttered through clenched teeth.

  ‘She was hanging about outside the pub. Waiting for the fellers to come out.’

  ‘What feller?’ Hannah snapped.

  Flo smirked. ‘Any feller’d do, long as ’ee’d still got the price for a bit of you-know-what left in his pocket. Shouldn’t be allowed. This is a decent neighbourhood, this is.’

  ‘I know very well what my daughter is,’ Bessie retorted, ‘but you can’t resist any chance to rub it in, can you?’

  Flo laughed. ‘Not my fault if I’ve heard tales, is it? She’s been seen in some of the worst parts of Manchester and—’

  ‘I think you’ve said enough, Mrs Harris,’ Hannah interrupted. ‘We’ll bid you goodnight.’ She grasped the woman’s arm and hauled her to her feet.

  ‘’Ere, ’ere, what do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘I’m showing you the door, that’s what I’m doing. Now you’ve done your dirty work, you can go.’

  ‘Dirty work, is it? It’s not me doing the dirty work. I thought Bessie would want to know.’

  ‘Mebbe she does and mebbe she doesn’t. Like I said, you could’ve done it in a lot kinder way. You’ve about given her a heart attack, by the look of her. So I’ll be obliged if you’ll leave. Now!’

  Flo thrust her face close to Hannah’s. ‘You’re a fine one to be handing out your orders like Lady Muck. Just remember who you are. Your mother weren’t no better than her Peggy.’

  ‘My mother’s dead and buried. You leave her out of this,’ Hannah spat back. ‘And I don’t need no reminding of what I am, so there’s nothing you can say that can hurt me. But you’ve hurt Bessie, so I hope you’re proud of yourself. Go on, get out of here.’

  ‘I’m going. And don’t ask any favours of me again.’

  ‘There’s no fear of that.’

  When the door banged behind her, Hannah turned to bend over Bessie. ‘You all right?’

  Bessie struggled to sit up. ‘Aye,’ she said heavily. ‘Right as I’ll ever be.’ She clutched Hannah’s hand. ‘Oh, Hannah, love. Go up the street and see if you can see her, will yer?’ Tears spilled down Bessie’s face. ‘Bring her back here, Hannah. If you find her, bring her home.’

  Hannah patted her hand. ‘’Course I will.’

  She hurried to take down her shawl from the peg behind the back door and run round the corner and along the street towards the Brewer’s Arms. But there was no one standing in the shadows near the doorway. Hannah looked up and down the neighbouring streets, searching this way and that. But there was no one that could possibly be Peggy. The dark, wet streets were deserted except for the distant figure of a man, weaving his way unsteadily homewards.

  Hannah bit her lip. It was almost closing time and she didn’t want to be caught hanging about on the street corner. Then she made a sudden decision. She marched boldly up to the door of the tavern, pushed it open and stepped inside into the fog of pipe smoke, into the midst of the raucous laugher and the smell of ale.

  Only women of a certain sort ever entered a public bar. Even Flo would go to the back door of the public house with her jug and wait there for the landlord to serve her nightly pint to her. The conversation stuttered and died, and Hannah found that every eye in the room full of men turned towards her. The big landlord stepped out from behind the bar and came towards her.

  ‘Now, love, no offence, but I don’t allow your sort in my pub. Out you go.’

  He made to take hold of her arm, but Hannah said, ‘I just came in to look for someone.’

  ‘I bet you did, but like I say—’

  ‘No, no, you don’t understand. I’m looking for a girl.’

  ‘Well, she’s not here, love. I promise you that.’

&nbs
p; Another man reeled his way towards her. ‘’Sall right, Dan. I’ll look after her. And yes, yes, I’ll tek her out. Now, my pretty one,’ he leered at Hannah. ‘Looking for company, are yer?’

  The landlord turned away with a shake of his head and the buzz of conversation rose again, as the drinkers lost interest.

  Hannah eyed the man now holding her arm with distaste and then suddenly, an idea came to her. She smiled. ‘Isn’t that what I’m supposed to ask you?’ she said pertly, putting her hand on her hip and swaying provocatively. The man’s smile broadened, showing a mouth of blackened and missing teeth. He put his arm around Hannah’s waist and pulled her to him. Sickened by the stench of body odour and sour breath, she steeled herself not to repulse him. ‘I’m looking for a friend of mine. Peggy. Someone told me she was here. Have you seen her?’

  The man shook his head. ‘Naw, but don’t let’s bother about her, my beauty. Let’s go out the back.’ He gave a sniff. ‘Some places’d let us go upstairs. But not this landlord. Won’t ’ave no goings-on on his premises, he says. He keeps an orderly house, does Dan.’

  Hannah could not prevent the gleam in her eye at being given such information, but the man misunderstood it and made to pull her towards the door.

  ‘But there’s a nice little backyard ’ee’s got, and whilst he’s busy in ’ere . . .’

  Hannah smiled into his face. ‘Let me go first and see if the coast’s clear.’

  He grinned again. ‘Tha’s a good idea. Don’t want to disturb anyone,’ he leered. ‘Or be disturbed, my lovely, do we?’

  She pulled herself from his grasp and made for the door. Ribald laughter followed her, but, her heart thumping, she hurried round the corner and into the back yard of the pub. She leaned against the wall for a moment, her heart pounding, her palms sweating. The stench of the man still in her nostrils was making her want to retch. But her concern, her love, for Bessie drove her on into untold danger. If the man should choose to come after her, she was trapped with no one to lift a finger to help her.

  As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could see that there was no one there. There were two doors leading into low buildings across the yard and she opened each one, peering inside. They were cluttered storerooms but there was no one there.

  Like a thief in the night, Hannah stole back round the corner. Not daring to linger, she picked up her skirts and ran past the barroom entrance and all the way back to Bessie’s house, not feeling safe until she was inside and leaning against the closed door.

  ‘Hannah? Is that you?’ came Bessie’s anxious, quivering voice. Hannah moved forward into the room. ‘Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry, Auntie Bessie, but she’s gone. I couldn’t find her.’ Swiftly, without dwelling too long on the detail of the man accosting her, Hannah explained. ‘I went into the pub and even round the back, but she wasn’t there.’

  Bessie lay back in her chair and groaned. ‘So close, so close and we’ve missed her.’

  ‘Maybe she’ll come another night. I . . . I could go again.’ She didn’t relish the idea, but she would do anything for Bessie.

  Bessie let out a long, hopeless sigh. ‘I don’t reckon she’ll come again. Maybe . . . maybe she came to . . . to look for her dad. He used to go on down to the pub sometimes. Just on a Saturday night. Maybe . . . maybe she hoped to see him.’

  ‘Her dad?’ Hannah was shocked. ‘But . . . d’you mean she doesn’t know about . . . about her dad?’

  Bessie shook her head. ‘Far as I know, she doesn’t know he’s dead. She’d gone before then.’

  ‘Oh.’ Hannah was thoughtful. An idea began to form in her mind, but she forbore from telling Bessie.

  She had the feeling that the older woman would not be happy about it. Not happy at all.

  ‘I need your help. I’m sorry to ask and if you feel you can’t do it, Jim, because of your position an’ all, I’ll understand.’

  ‘This sounds very mysterious, Hannah. Come inside and have a cup of tea with us. Nell is just home from work and I’m not on duty until ten o’clock tonight. Tommy’s in bed, so you can talk freely – whatever it is. Is it Bessie? Not ill, is she?’ All the time he was asking questions he was ushering her through from the front door, through their parlour, at present sparsely furnished, into the cosy kitchen at the back of the terraced house.

  ‘Hannah!’ Nell exclaimed, hugging her as if she hadn’t seen her for weeks instead of only days. Whilst Nell excitedly showed her round the house and all that they had done in the short space of time, Hannah held herself in check, even though she was bursting to confide in Jim and ask his advice, ask for his help.

  At last they sat down, grouped in front of the cosy fire in the range.

  ‘Now,’ Jim said, gently but firmly interrupting his wife’s prattling. ‘How can I help you, Hannah?’

  ‘I’d better tell you the whole story . . .’ Launching into her tale, she began by telling Jim about the night Nell had come home with her hair dyed and Bessie’s outraged reaction. Nell nodded, taking up Hannah’s story. ‘She scared me a bit. I really thought I looked like some woman of the streets, but it turned out it was because her daughter, Peggy, had dyed her hair and . . .’ Nell shot a look at Hannah. ‘By all accounts, that’s exactly what Peggy had become. Bessie said she’d heard bits of gossip over the years and, you could tell, she was so sad about it.’ Nell paused and looked questioningly at Hannah. ‘So, has something happened?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘The day you got married. We were just going to bed after a lovely day.’ She smiled fondly at the happy couple, who exchanged a bashful glance. ‘And who should come knocking at the door but Flo Harris. She couldn’t wait to impart a juicy bit of gossip. She said she’d seen Peggy hanging around near the Brewer’s Arms, waiting for the fellers coming out, she said. Her and her vicious tongue . . .’ Hannah paused a moment, imagining what she’d like to do to Flo Harris, given half a chance. Then she went on, recounting the events of that night. ‘And since then,’ she ended, ‘Bessie’s been sunk in despair. It’s awful to see her. I just want to do something to help her. I want to find Peggy.’

  Jim was thoughtful. ‘If she’s still here in the town, it mightn’t be too difficult. We know most of the girls, but there’s not many stay long.’ He grinned. ‘Not much business in this town. We move ’em on as quick as they come, that’s if we can’t actually arrest them. Now, if you were to say she’d been seen in one of the big cities . . .’

  ‘She was – I mean Flo reckoned she’d been seen in Manchester.’

  ‘Mmm, now that might be more difficult, ’cos it’s a big place.’

  ‘Bessie said she might have been looking for her dad. He used to go to that pub when . . . when he was alive.’

  Now it was Nell’s turn to be shocked and she repeated the very same words that Hannah had said to Bessie. ‘You mean she doesn’t even know her dad’s dead?’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘Bessie thinks not.’

  Nell turned to Jim. ‘Oh, poor Bessie – and poor Peggy. Never mind what she’s become. She was hurt by some feller and too proud to come home, I bet.’ Nell touched her husband’s hand. ‘Not everyone’s been as lucky as me,’ she said huskily, ‘to find someone big enough to forgive past mistakes. Jim, we have to help Hannah find her. For Bessie’s sake, if nothing else.’

  ‘But I do understand, Jim, if you can’t,’ Hannah put in, anxiously. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to risk your job.’

  ‘No, no, I’ll mind I don’t do that. We’re not just there to run folks in, you know. We try to help where we can.’

  Hannah smiled. She, more than anyone, knew that. ‘And if it’s helping some poor girl off the streets, then I suppose it could be classed as part of my job.’ He grinned, his kind face crinkling. ‘I’ll ask around. Ask my colleagues. I’ll look at the charge book, an’ all. See if she’s ever been brought in.’

  ‘Do you think she might be using another name though?’ Hannah suggested. ‘I know I would if I’d . . . if I’d . . .’ She falt
ered. Far from condemning Peggy, Hannah was thinking, there, but for this kind policeman and Bessie, I might have gone. She saw, so clearly, that if she hadn’t had a little help from caring people at the right moment, her life now might be very different.

  Jim was wrinkling his brow thoughtfully. ‘You could be right at that. D’you have a description of her? D’you know what she looks like?’

  Hannah shook her head. Nell, despite the gravity of their conversation, couldn’t help laughing. ‘I know one thing, she’s got red hair.’ The other two stared at her for a moment and then joined in her laughter. It eased the tension and drove away some of the sadness. They were suddenly filled with more hope. The two girls had more faith in Jim than perhaps he had himself, but in turn, he had colleagues he could enlist in his search.

  ‘We’ll find her,’ he said. ‘We’ll bring her home. But not a word to Bessie, Hannah. I don’t want to raise her hopes until we have definite news.’

  Thirty-Five

  The days passed with agonizing slowness for Hannah and Nell, but each time when Jim returned home, he shook his head sadly. ‘No news, love. I’m sorry, she must have left the town. The lads have kept an eye open for her, but she’s skipping out of sight as soon as a policeman comes along. They do, you know, they just melt away into the shadows. I don’t know how they do it.’

  Nell sighed sadly. ‘If you ask me, their whole lives are spent living in the shadows. I suppose the only alternative for them is the workhouse and they chose the way they did.’ She paused a moment and then added bitterly, ‘Can’t say I blame ’em in some ways.’