The Doorstep Girls Page 13

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Ruby asked as they walked away from the mill. ‘I was beginning to think you’d gone home.’

  ‘Home? Why would I have gone home and lost my wages?’

  ‘I thought you might have been upset over what happened. There’ll be an inquiry, won’t there?’

  ‘Yes, I expect so,’ Grace said slowly. ‘Ruby, I’ve had such a strange day and I am upset and it’s just beginning to tell on me.’ She put her hand to her forehead. ‘I’ve got such a headache.’

  Ruby put her arm through Grace’s. ‘Do you want to sit down for a minute?’

  ‘Yes, I think I do.’ There was a stack of crates outside a warehouse nearby and they went towards it and hoisted themselves up. ‘I haven’t given myself time to think about all those poor people who died, even though I went to see the relatives. Now the horror of it all is creeping up on me.’

  ‘You went to see ’relatives?’ Ruby’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment. ‘Why was that?’

  ‘First the sergeant and then Mr Newmarch asked me if I’d go with them. ’Sergeant said he hated having to tell of a child’s death – and, and I don’t know why Mr Newmarch wanted me to go.’ She puzzled, a frown on her forehead. ‘Something to do with a woman’s sympathy, and he said that people were uncomfortable with a company manager around.’

  She looked up as the Newmarches’ carriage rattled by. Edward Newmarch was driving and he lifted his whip as he passed them. ‘I’ve been in that carriage today,’ she pronounced and Ruby stared at her, her mouth open. Grace laughed and felt better. ‘I have, honest! I rode inside going towards ’Groves, and on ’outside coming back.’

  ‘Why?’ Ruby breathed. ‘Why did you do that?’

  Grace shook her head. ‘Mr Newmarch asked me to. I think he wanted to talk to me.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘About being poor.’ She jumped down from the crates. ‘Come on, let’s go home. It’s been a long day.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘Appalling! Appalling! Appalling!’ Martin Newmarch beat his fist on his knees as his brother drove them out of the mill gates. ‘I couldn’t believe the squalor. The mess. The stench! There were even pigpens in some of the courts that we passed. And rats! Monstrous!’

  ‘How can people live like that?’ Edward shuddered. ‘They can have no sensibilities at all.’

  ‘No. No! You don’t understand! They’re not choosing to live that way. There is no other way for them!’

  ‘Oh, what tosh! They could do something about it if they wanted to. They don’t have to keep pigs. And they could at least keep clean.’

  ‘A woman threw a pail of dirty water into the street as we were passing,’ Martin went on, ‘and when I remonstrated against her, this young girl – Grace Sheppard, who went with me – asked what should the woman have done with it, if there were no drains to pour it down?’ He lifted his shoulders in exasperation. ‘I had no answer to that.’

  He looked down at his boots, which had been polished that morning and were now caked with mud, in spite of his having scraped them before entering the mill. For the first time in his life he had felt inadequate, imbued with a sense of helplessness as he had viewed those dilapidated houses, the stinking courts and the state of misery in which the people he had visited spent their lives.

  ‘So why did you take the girl with you?’ Edward asked. ‘What was your motive?’

  ‘She seemed so capable,’ he said. ‘She was on the staithe side organizing lists of those who had died and those survivors whom she had sent home.’ Martin gave a dry laugh. ‘She’d even, without a by your leave, sent them home in one of our waggons! But it wasn’t because of that.’ He took off his top hat and ran his fingers through his hair, letting the wind catch it as if blowing away the day’s troubles. ‘I thought that she might know what to say to these people, being from the same class, and of course she did, much better than I could.’

  Edward nodded but didn’t reply, being caught up with his own thoughts. He saw the two girls as they sat on a crate at the side of the road and lifted his whip, knowing that his brother was too engrossed in frustrated anger to notice.

  He’d looked for the dark-haired girl again that morning. It was beginning to be an obsession, this searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. They’d arrived early at the mill, Martin wanting a prompt start to the day, something or other he needed to do. Edward had been reluctant, he hated to be out so early, but Martin had insisted and, as they shared a chaise, he had had to submit.

  But as it turned out, Martin’s plans had come to nothing, for on arriving at the mill they were greeted by the news of the tragedy on the river. Martin had set off immediately to the scene and Edward had gone in to calm the workers. It was his own suggestion that they be given time to talk it out, to exchange views on how the disaster had happened and to let out their grief, for many of them would have known the victims.

  He’d looked down from one of the upper floors and watched the groups of workers as, after they had finished talking and with much shaking of heads, they started to drift back to their work stations, and it was then that he saw her. He’d hurried down the stairs and caught up with her as she swabbed the floor with her mop.

  His eyes were drawn to her bare feet. Her skirts were tied up and he could see her ankles and the fleshy curve of her calves. He looked at her face as he spoke to her, but his glance was constantly shifting back to her naked feet. They were small and white with straight toes and splashed with dirty water from her mop, and he thought that he had never before seen anything so erotic.

  He stayed to talk only as long as it was possible without arousing suspicion, but he cursed himself as he walked away, for he had forgotten to ask her name.

  ‘What do you think of her?’ The question he asked of Martin was unintentional, emerging as a spontaneous thought.

  ‘What do you mean, what do I think of her?’ Martin was irritable and answered sharply. ‘I just said that she seemed capable. She’s wasted at the mill doing menial tasks, but I have no other thoughts about her. Why should I have?’

  Edward shook his head but didn’t continue with the conversation. He hadn’t meant Grace Sheppard, as Martin had naturally assumed. He had been thinking of the dark girl and her bare feet, not the fair one.

  I’ll try to arrange a meeting with Emerson, Martin mused. He’s always been concerned about the poor, he’ll have something to say about the conditions those people are living in. He has some influence, I believe, with the City Fathers. And Georgiana too, she would be interested in what I have to tell her. If, that is, she can tear herself away from the issues of women’s rights. He gave a silent grunt. Women like Georgiana don’t have any concerns when compared with the wretches I have seen today. And as for the girl, Grace Sheppard … Why would Edward ask what I think of her? An odd question. I could make her a supervisor, I suppose. She’s competent and steady, but on the other hand … He remembered seeing her on the platform at Dock Green. She might make trouble. She would always be on the side of the workers, not the management. I’d bet a sovereign on it.

  He gave a slight smile as his thoughts wandered to their meeting on the riverside this morning. Her fair hair had come loose and was blowing in the breeze, and her skirt fluttered about her. She had raised her head as she spoke to him and he was put in mind of a figurehead, sweeping indomitably through a billowing sea at the prow of a sailing ship.

  She’s as slight as a willow, he mused. So fragile-looking that you would think she would snap in half. She’s young, but I reckon she has an inner strength that no-one, not even she, yet knows of. She told me that the workers were afraid of me, or at least of management, because we held their lives in our hands. But she wasn’t afraid. She fixed me with those deep blue eyes and without saying the actual words, she showed me that she wasn’t.

  He took a deep breath. You could be dangerous, Miss Sheppard. You disturb me. So, I’m sorry, but it’s back to washing the mill floor.

  I have
to see her. Edward lashed the horse onward as they reached the open road. She’s driving me mad! Or some other woman who can take the passion out of me. For heaven’s sake! he silently remonstrated. I’m getting married in a couple of months’ time. I have to get this out of my system. I’ll frighten poor little May to death if I don’t do something about it! I’ll go and find that young fellow. He said he knew of an older woman. She’d take the heat out of me. Nothing wrong with that, he reasoned. It’s what men do. Can’t go upsetting their wives with their demands. As long as the woman was – well – all right. I’d have to take precautions, of course.

  A few doubts crept into his mind. He was quite a fastidious man. He liked his shaving tackle laid out properly every morning, his sideburns and beard neatly trimmed, his shoes well polished. Of course he didn’t have to do those things himself but he liked to see that they were done. And he wouldn’t want misgivings about the cleanliness of any woman he might encounter.

  But I’ll search him out, he decided. If I can remember where it was that I came across him. Yes. That’s what I’ll do. Just enquire. And then I’ll think about it for a day or two. Give myself a chance to change my mind. But Saturday evening would be a good time and I can say that I’m going to my club.

  ‘I’ve done it, Grace. I’ve asked to be released from my indentures.’ Daniel’s face was white and strained. He had knocked on her door after her mother and father had gone off to work.

  ‘What did your master say? Was he angry?’ Grace was anxious for him, he looked so upset.

  Daniel nodded. ‘He said I was a fool, but he seemed more angry about my father. He said he’d told him that he would give him a labouring job any time he wanted, but that he was totally stubborn and wouldn’t accept.’

  He sighed. ‘He asked me to think it over but I said that I had already. Can I come in?’ he continued. ‘I want to ask you something.’

  She opened the door wider to admit him. There was a low fire burning in the hearth. She had lit it as she wasn’t at work that morning, and had decided that she would prepare some broth and cook it ready for the evening when her parents came home. It was the first time that Daniel had been inside and she invited him to sit down in her father’s chair.

  ‘No, thank you. I’d rather stand if you don’t mind, but please, you sit.’ He took two or three paces about the room and saw that it was neat as a pin, the wooden table scrubbed and the blankets folded tidily.

  ‘I’ve already got the promise of a ship,’ he said bluntly. ‘It sails on Friday. I shall be away six or seven months.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘So long!’ she murmured. ‘I shall miss you, Daniel.’

  ‘And I shall miss you,’ he said softly, and knelt beside the chair and took her hand. ‘I know we said that we would just be good friends, but I’m very fond of you, Grace, and I know that I’ll think of you all the time I’m away.’

  She squeezed his hand. ‘Is it too late to change your mind?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘It isn’t. My boss said would I go in today and say for certain if I was leaving. He said he wouldn’t cancel my contract until then and would give me the option of returning.’

  ‘But you won’t?’ she said. ‘Return, I mean?’

  ‘Only to collect my things. My tool bag and a sack of bits and pieces that I’ve made since I began my apprenticeship.’

  ‘What did your ma and da say when you told them you were giving up?’

  He rose to his feet and stared into the fire, then looked at Grace. ‘I haven’t told them. I shan’t tell them until it’s done.’

  ‘But –’ she began. ‘If your da –’

  ‘No buts,’ he said harshly. ‘I’ve decided. And anyway I couldn’t stand it if Da was labouring under me. Think of how he would feel, and Ma, she’d never give up grumbling and picking on Da and telling him constantly about what she’s had to give up.’

  ‘So what you’re really doing is leaving so that they don’t have to consider you? They’re going to have to make their own decisions on how they’ll live?’ She shook her head. ‘Daniel! You’re cutting off your nose to revenge your face! Tell them! Give them a chance to do something before you make ’final decision.’

  ‘No,’ he said, and she thought that he was probably just as stubborn as his father was. ‘Decision is made.’ His mouth turned down. ‘I thought that you would understand!’

  ‘I do,’ she replied. ‘But it doesn’t mean that I think what you’re doing is right.’

  He turned to the door. ‘I must go. I’ll come back later and bring you this sack of stuff.’ He sounded very despondent. ‘It’s of no value, you can use it for ’fire. Da can get plenty of firewood from ’woodyard. They’ll not be without a fire – if they can be bothered to make it,’ he muttered.

  ‘You were going to ask me something,’ she said. ‘What was it?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ He looked down at his boots. ‘I wondered, well – that is,’ he glanced at her from soft grey eyes. ‘I know I’m leaving them in ’lurch, Ma and Da, and it’s not because I don’t care about them. It’s just that I’ve had enough, I want to do something with my life, Grace. I want to make some mark so that I know that I’ve lived.’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I can understand that. So many people disappear without trace, as if they’ve never been.’

  ‘So what I wondered,’ he went on. ‘Would you mind keeping an eye on them – Ma and Da?’ He gave a slight grin and she knew that the old Daniel was still there, just hidden from view for the moment. ‘Listen out to make sure they’re not murdering one another!’

  She said that she would, but worried about how to prevent such an incident, should it occur. Mrs Hanson never spoke to anybody in the court and Mr Hanson merely passed the time of day, and she wondered, not for the first time, how two such dowly people could have produced a son like Daniel.

  Her father arrived home an hour later. ‘I’ve been laid off,’ he told her glumly. ‘There’s no work anywhere. We’ve been told to report in on Monday, but they can’t guarantee owt.’

  ‘Da,’ she said urgently. ‘Go and try at ’woodyard, Jensons, I think they’re called.’ She told him about Daniel. ‘Only don’t say a word to his father if you should see him.’

  ‘I won’t,’ he said, putting on his coat again. ‘And I’ll not feel guilty about tekking job either if it’s offered. If Hanson’s too proud to tek labouring work, there’s plenty who are not.’ He indicated with his thumb towards the door. ‘It’s dog eat dog out there.’

  She was scrubbing the last of the potatoes and adding them to the water in the iron pan, when Ruby came to the door. She seemed agitated and kept rubbing her hands together. ‘Somebody’s just been to our house,’ she said. ‘I kept ’door locked and we peeped out of ’window.’

  ‘Who was it?’ Grace lifted the pan with a great effort. It was very heavy but she managed to place it on the trivet over the coals.

  ‘Two men.’ Ruby plonked herself down in the chair. ‘I hadn’t lit ’fire so it would look empty from outside. Ma’s made herself scarce, she’s going to hang around Tap and Barrel and wait for her pals. She said she knew one of ’men. She said he’s a bum-bailiff, one of ’meanest. ’Other one we think is from ’landlord’s office. They’re checking us out, Grace.’ She pressed her fists to her mouth. ‘What are we going to do? We’ll be turned out onto ’streets.’

  Grace put her hand on Ruby’s shoulder. ‘They might not come again for a bit. Maybe they’re just looking to see if ’house is empty. What about ’people upstairs, in your old room?’

  ‘I’ve warned them.’ A tear rolled down Ruby’s cheek. ‘Mrs Blake said they’d have to go to ’workhouse if they’re turned out. They’ll be separated, of course. Mr Blake won’t be able to go with her and ’bairns.’ She stifled a sob. ‘What a life, Grace. We’re nowt. We might as well be dead as lead ’life we do!’

  Grace sat down on the floor next to Ruby’s chair and leaned her arm on her friend’s lap. ‘Daniel i
s leaving.’ She looked up at her. ‘He’s giving up his apprenticeship and probably taking a ship on Friday.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Ruby swallowed her tears and spoke in a choked voice. ‘I’ll miss him.’

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘So will I, but he feels he has to go.’

  Ruby put her hand on Grace’s hair and stroked it. It was fine and soft, not thick and heavy like her own. ‘If it wasn’t for you, Grace, I would’ve given up long ago. Life’s not worth a candle. My ma’s an opium addict, our Josh couldn’t care a jot for us, and as for poor little Freddie, maybe God knows where he is, for I don’t.’

  She played with strands of Grace’s hair, twining it around her fingers, then said, ‘I’ve come to tell you summat.’

  It was a day for confidences, Grace thought. Daniel asking, Ruby telling. She saw the tears running down Ruby’s face. ‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘We’ve had bad times before and got through them.’

  ‘But not like this,’ Ruby cried. ‘I’ve had enough, Grace. I’m frightened. I can’t go on any more.’

  Grace remained silent and continued to gaze at Ruby, giving her time to compose herself.

  ‘I’m just waiting’, Ruby said, ‘for Jamie to get up. You know how he and his ma sleep all day.’ She took a deep breath and raised her head. ‘As soon as I see their curtains open, I’m going to see him. I’m going to tell him that I’m ready.’

  ‘Ready?’ Grace whispered.

  Ruby nodded. ‘I’ve really made up my mind this time. What’s ’point in saving my virginity? What or who am I saving it for? I’m going to ask Jamie to lend me a shilling or more if he can, then if these men come back I’ll give them it for ’rent. I’ll make up some story about having just moved in. Then,’ she pressed her lips together, ‘I’ll owe Jamie and I’m committed. There’ll be no going back.’