The Doorstep Girls Read online

  ‘Somebody’s been to your house today.’ Lizzie stooped to place a small piece of wood on the fire. Being on the ground floor they had the luxury of a hearth, unlike the upstairs room where Ruby and her family lived. Although they could say they were lucky to have a roof over their heads, the ceiling above them was so rotten that a gaping hole showed through to the attic.

  ‘Who?’ Ruby was startled. ‘Not ’debt collector?’

  ‘A family,’ she replied. ‘A man, wife and three bairns. I saw them come this afternoon, but I didn’t see them go out again.’ She gave Ruby an intense glance. ‘Mebbe they’re still there.’

  Ruby pushed her chair back. ‘Thanks for ’soup, Aunt Lizzie. I’d better go and see what’s going on.’

  Although Lizzie Sheppard wasn’t her real aunt, Ruby had always called her such. She had known the Sheppards most of her young life and she and Grace were inseparable. Once, so she had been told, Grace’s mother and her own mother, Bessie Robson, had been good friends too. But they no longer spoke, and no-one knew why.

  The house in which they lived was at the end of the court, and nearest to the wall which separated this court from the one beyond. The wall was almost as high as the houses, thus blocking out any light or air. Sunshine never reached down here and although today, being summer, the sun had been bright in the sky, the residents of Middle Court had not been aware of it.

  Ruby climbed the broken stairs, and, when she came to their small landing, saw that a rickety wooden ladder had been placed against the wall. Attached to the ladder was a piece of rope which had been pushed through the partially open trapdoor in the ceiling. She looked up and thought that she could hear whispering.

  She opened the door of their room. ‘Ma! Why’s that ladder here?’

  Her mother was sitting on a ragged mattress with her shawl and a thin blanket wrapped around her. The room felt cold and damp in spite of the heat outside. She gave Ruby a nervous smile which showed that several front teeth were missing but where the gap perfectly accommodated her clay pipe.

  ‘I’ve made us some money,’ she wheezed, and tapped the side of her nose. ‘You’ll be pleased wi’ me, Ruby.’

  ‘What have you done now, Ma? What have you sold? Not that we’ve owt left to sell!’

  Her mother crooked her finger for Ruby to come nearer. When Ruby was near enough to hear a whisper, Bessie pointed up at the ceiling. ‘I’ve got us some lodgers,’ she croaked. ‘They’re living upstairs.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘Living upstairs! What do you mean, living upstairs? There’s no floor upstairs!’ Ruby stared at her mother and then up at the broken ceiling. ‘Besides, what’s ’landlord going to say?’

  ‘He’ll not find out, ’rent man never comes up here. He’s too scared o’ tummelling down ’steps.’ Her mother gave a satisfied grin and chewed on her unlit pipe. ‘And ’chap up yonder – Mr Blake – he’s found a bit o’ planking and put that down for them to walk and lie down on.’

  ‘Somebody’ll see that ladder!’ Ruby insisted. ‘You’ll have us turned out, then what’ll we do?’

  ‘Nobody’ll see it. I’ll keep ’front door shut, and folks upstairs won’t say owt. They’ve nowhere else to go.’

  There was no reasoning with her, and Ruby sank onto the mattress and put her hands to her head. ‘Front door won’t shut, Ma,’ she said, even though knowing she was defeated. ‘Hinge is hanging off.’

  Ruby never ever left the rent money with her mother, for she knew she would rush to spend it on her addiction as soon as Ruby had left the house to go to work. The rent collector called on a Sunday when Ruby was at home, and if there was any money left after buying bread and potatoes and paying off some of the debts which they owed, he took it. They were always in arrears, and, try as she might, she could never catch up with the payments.

  ‘I’m charging a shilling a week,’ her mother wheedled. ‘They’re ever so grateful.’ She looked at her daughter pleadingly and held out her hand. There were a few coppers in her palm. ‘You can have these, Ruby. I saved ’em for you.’

  Ruby took the coins. I can buy bread, she wavered, and short of climbing the ladder and telling the people to leave, I can’t think what else to do. Ma will have spent the rest of the shilling, so we can’t give it back. And they must be desperate, she decided, to be grateful to live in a cold damp loft with rotten beams and gaping holes in the roof.

  ‘Where’s Freddie? Has he eaten today?’

  Her mother dropped her gaze. ‘He’s out. He might have got a job.’

  ‘How can he get a job? He’s onny just eight.’ In spite of her lack of education Ruby knew the factory law. When her brother was nine, then he could apply for a job just as she had done when she had reached that age. ‘Anyway, he’s skin and bone. Who’d tek him on?’

  Her mother had a shifty look about her. What was she up to? She glanced up at Ruby. ‘I do my best, Ruby,’ she whined. ‘I do my best for all of us. I can’t help it if I’m not well enough to work myself.’

  ‘Freddie!’ Ruby persisted. She had heard her mother’s story of ill health so often that it no longer raised any sympathy. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘A man came to ’house this morning. He’d seen Freddie out in ’street and said that he was just ’sort of bright lad that a friend of his was looking for. So Freddie’s gone with him, and if this man’s friend teks to him then he’ll bind him as an apprentice. He said he was old enough at eight.’

  ‘But who was he? You let him go wi’ a stranger! To do what, Ma?’

  ‘He’ll get fed and clothed and looked after, though he won’t be able to come home.’ Her mother shuffled around on her bed of old rags and coats. ‘We shan’t have to buy so much food if he’s not here.’

  ‘Ma!’ Ruby screeched. ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Didn’t I say?’ Her mother’s mouth worked nervously. ‘As a chimney sweep’s lad!’

  Ruby lay down and curled herself into a ball with her head on her knees. She was so tired and weary, and now this. ‘Ma! How could you? You know he’s not strong. He could get stuck up a chimney and never get out!’

  ‘No,’ her mother said eagerly. ‘That’s what I said to this man that came, and he said that because Freddie was so small there was no fear o’ that. That’s why he would be just perfect for this job. And he said he would be working in ’countryside in big houses so he’ll get plenty o’ fresh air.’

  She waited a moment before adding, ‘And he said that if his friend took him on, then he’d pay us ten shilliings.’

  Ruby lifted her head and gazed at her mother. ‘You’d sell Freddie for ten shillings?’

  ‘What else can I do?’ Her mother took her pipe out of her mouth and laid it on the bed. She took hold of Ruby’s hand. ‘Don’t be angry wi’ me, Ruby. I’m doing my best. If we’d a man about we’d manage better. If you’d onny find some nice young fella in work who’d look after us.’

  ‘Like my da, you mean, who went off with a fancy piece? And like our Josh who you sent off to sea as an apprentice and we’ve never seen since. Oh, yes.’ Ruby nodded her head vigorously. ‘That’s just what we need, a man about the place to keep us in little luxuries, like hot dinners now and again or a pair of boots that don’t leak, and mebbe a room with a fire so’s we could keep warm.’

  She started to weep. ‘I’m fifteen years old, Ma, and I feel like an old woman.’

  But she wiped her eyes and with the few coins clutched in her hand went out to buy old bread from the baker. In the shop window was one small meat pie with a bluebottle buzzing round it. ‘I’ll give you a penny for that pie,’ she said, handing over a penny for the bread. ‘It’s got a fly on it.’

  The baker flicked the fly away then wiped the top of the pie with his floury fingers. ‘It would have been tuppence to anybody who hadn’t seen it,’ he said. ‘Here, tek it.’ He wrapped a piece of paper around the pie and handed it to her, waving away her offer of a penny. ‘I saw your ma earlier,’ he said, and gave a knowing nod. ‘She was
coming out of apothecary’s yonder.’

  Ruby’s heart sank. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered and taking her purchases she hurried across the street to the chemist’s shop. There was no-one else in the shop but the chemist in a loose brown coat with his back to her, lifting down a stone jar from the shelf. ‘Mr Cooke,’ she said diffidently. ‘Mr Cooke, I’d be obliged if you didn’t give my ma any more medication.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘If she asks for it and has the money to pay for it, then I’m obliged to sell it to her.’ He shook his head at Ruby. ‘If I don’t, she’ll go elsewhere and may be given something totally unsuitable.’

  Ruby’s mouth trembled. ‘We’ve barely enough money for food,’ she began.

  ‘I know,’ he murmured. ‘I do understand. But it’s too late, your mother has to have an opiate, she’s taken it since she was a child. She can’t give it up now.’

  Ruby turned away, tears pricking her eyes, but the chemist called her back. ‘I’ve only given her a small bottle of Black Drop. It’s mild, just a solution in wine and won’t hurt her, only calm her down. You could even take it yourself.’ He reached across to a drawer and took out some coins. ‘Here.’ He handed her a sixpence and a penny. ‘Your mother paid me too much. I was going to keep it until next time.’

  She thanked him and left. Take it myself, she mused. Perhaps I should. It’s supposed to reduce depression. Then she gave herself a mental shake. Don’t be so stupid, Ruby. Don’t start on that downward path. She knew that her mother had given her laudanum when she was a child, as she had given it to Freddie when he was a baby. Most mothers gave it to their children to ensure that they slept all day whilst they were out at work. Then the mothers were often so tired themselves, after a long day at the factory or fish dock, that a cordial laced with laudanum was given to the children in the evening so that they would sleep, and the mothers could get some sleep themselves.

  It was Grace’s mother who had weaned Ruby off it. She had been seven and still remembered the quarrel between Aunt Lizzie and her mother, when Aunt Lizzie had snatched the bottle from Ruby’s little hand and smashed it to the ground. ‘You’ll kill her,’ she’d shouted. ‘Just as you killed those other bairns.’ And it was then that Ruby had discovered that there had been other children, brothers or sisters, who hadn’t survived.

  As she crossed the street towards home, she saw Freddie walking hand in hand with a stranger who was very well dressed for these parts. She called out and ran towards him.

  ‘Ruby!’ the child shouted excitedly. ‘I’m starting work! I’ve had my dinner and – this is Mr Jonas. He’s just given Ma ten shillings so’s that I can start straight away.’

  Ruby stared at the man in the frock coat. He inclined his head towards her, but didn’t take off his top hat. So, whilst her back was turned the deed was done! Freddie had been sold and probably already her mother was smoking her pipe and taking an extra dose of Black Drop to celebrate her good fortune.

  ‘How shall I know where to find Freddie?’ she asked Mr Jonas. ‘In case owt happens and we need to be in touch with him. And to know if he’s all right,’ she added, not liking the look of the man.

  Mr Jonas looked surprised at the question, as if he hadn’t ever been asked it before. He fished in his waistcoat pocket and brought out a card which he handed to her. ‘Get in touch with me in the case of emergency or death and I will contact Freddie’s employer. Do not disturb me for anything trivial as I am an extremely busy man.’

  Ruby looked at the card. It was grubby and bent at the edges as if it had been in his pocket a long time, and, as she glanced at Mr Jonas now, he didn’t seem to be quite as prosperous as she had first thought. His hat was rather battered, his black frock coat had a tinge of green and was crumpled as if it had been slept in, and his fingernails were extremely dirty.

  ‘It’s not you, then?’ she asked pertinently. ‘You’re not ’chimney sweep?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ he replied huffily. ‘I am an agent. I search out suitable people for employment.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you rather come back home, Freddie?’ she asked her brother. ‘You’re too young to work.’

  ‘Too late, young woman,’ Jonas interrupted. ‘The contract is signed and the money paid over to his mother. And he’s not too young, he’s had his eighth birthday I understand.’ He took hold of Freddie’s arm. ‘He comes with me.’

  ‘I’ll be all right, Ruby,’ Freddie called as he was marched away, though she thought she now saw doubt in his young eyes. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

  Ruby was concerned, she was fond of her brother and didn’t like to think of him going to live with strangers, but she ran as fast as she could back towards Middle Court and was just in time to catch her mother scurrying out of the alley and into the street. ‘Come on, Ma,’ she demanded. ‘Hand it over.’

  Her mother clutched her black shawl around her throat. She looks like a wizened old crow, Ruby thought. Her face, which Bessie always maintained had been beautiful in her youth, was wrinkled and pallid and her once dark hair was now mostly white. ‘Hand what over?’ she croaked. ‘I haven’t got a penny on me, honest to God, Ruby. I haven’t.’

  Ruby stood her ground and beckoned with her fingers for her mother to hand over the money she had taken from Mr Jonas. ‘It’s mine,’ her mother whined. ‘It’s for my son. Nowt to do wi’ you!’

  ‘Give it here,’ Ruby insisted. ‘It can go towards ’rent and I can get my boots mended, my feet get soaked whenever it rains.’ The last time it had rained, when the court was flooded with water, she had carried her boots in her hand until she reached the footpath out in the street. She had dried her toes on her skirt hem and, although her feet were cold, at least her boots were dry. There was nothing worse, she had reasoned, than wearing wet boots all day.

  Her mother fished in her skirt pocket and took out five shillings and gave it to Ruby.

  ‘And the rest, Ma. Another five!’

  ‘I’m going to ’butcher’s,’ she muttered petulantly. ‘I need some money.’

  Ruby kept her hand out. ‘And what will you buy at ’butcher’s?’ she asked. ‘A nice joint o’ meat? A mutton chop?’

  Her mother nodded eagerly. ‘Yes! Yes, that’s it.’

  ‘And where will you cook it, Ma? Seeing as we’ve no fire!’

  Her mother looked confused for a moment, then said, ‘Ah!’ She gazed around her as if searching for inspiration. ‘Well, I’ll buy summat already cooked. That’s it! That’s what I’ll do.’

  ‘Give me ’rest of money, Ma,’ Ruby said wearily. ‘I’ve got a meat pie here that we can have for our supper. Come on, I’m tired, I want to go to bed.’

  Reluctantly, Bessie handed over the remaining five shillings. Ruby took it, then, in a fit of pity for her mother, gave her the penny which the chemist had given back to her. ‘Go get yourself a glass of ale,’ she said. ‘Then come home and we’ll share ’pie.’

  ‘You’re not a bad lass, Ruby,’ her mother said. ‘Don’t you want a glass?’

  Ruby considered, then handed over the sixpence. ‘Aye, why not! Borrow a jug from Tap and Barrel and we’ll both have some.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘Come on, Jamie, get moving. Time you were on your way.’

  ‘Yes. Yes. All right.’ Jamie heard his mother’s urging voice, but didn’t hurry and continued to gaze at his reflection in the piece of broken mirror which hung by the door, then retied the yellow kerchief around his neck.

  ‘That’s mine!’ his mother admonished. ‘You little thief!’

  ‘I’m onny borrowing it, Nell. Keep your hair on. Besides,’ he added, ‘it wasn’t yours in ’first place.’

  ‘Yes it was. Somebody give me it.’

  ‘Instead of money? You were short-changed. It’s onny a bit o’ cheap cotton.’

  His mother shrugged. ‘I liked ’colour. Besides, it was that or nowt.’

  ‘I keep telling you, you should tek money first, make sure they’ve got it.’ He turned away from the
mirror to look at his mother. ‘You should leave ’bargaining to me, you’re far too trusting, that’s your trouble.’

  ‘Not like you, eh, Jamie? Go on, get off. Drum up some business.’

  Jamie laughed and left his mother to gaze in the mirror as he had just done. She saw a similar version of his face, the same light blue eyes and full mouth, but where his features were strong and angular, hers were rounded and feminine. ‘He must tek after his father, whoever he was,’ she murmured, brushing powdered rouge on her cheeks and carmine on her lips. ‘A man o’ business, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  Nell had succumbed to the blandishments of an older man when she was fourteen. He had given her a bracelet and gifts of money to ensure her discretion, for he was a friend of her parents and didn’t want them to find out about his liaison with their daughter. As she found the experience not unpleasant and the money very welcome, for she was fond of pretty clothes, she decided that it was an easy enough way of making a living and much more congenial than working in a factory or on the fish dock as she was doing. She found plenty of customers, for she was attractive and willing, and she told her parents that she had changed her job and was working night shifts at a seed mill.

  Inevitably she fell pregnant, was discovered and turned out of the house by her father. She suffered great hardship for many years as she tried to make a living for herself and her child, Jamie. When he was a baby he slept all night with the help of laudanum, but as he grew older he had to fend for himself during the night hours when she was at work. She had a miscarriage when Jamie was two and bled profusely, but after that she never again became pregnant.

  When Jamie reached thirteen, he confronted her. ‘You’re doing it all wrong, Ma,’ he said. ‘You should be more particular. Tradesmen and businessmen are the ones wi’ regular money. Not seamen or common labouring types who onny spend on a Saturday night after they’ve got their wages.’