The Doorstep Girls Read online

  Edward laughed and said he had never seen anything so ridiculous as women’s fashion, and instead of leaving as he was asked, he picked up the pile of petticoats and the gown, bundled them into the maid’s arms and ushered her out of the door. As she ran down the hall she gave a huge bubbling laugh.

  May put her arms across her chest, even though she was still wearing a silk shift beneath the hoop. ‘I am so ashamed, Edward.’ Tears ran down her cheeks. ‘How could you humiliate me in front of a servant?’

  ‘Well, she must think it ridiculous to see you wearing all this paraphernalia,’ he argued, and turned her around to undo the ribbon which held the hoop. ‘Come on, lift up your arms, or do you step out of it?’

  ‘We need a chair to stand on,’ she wailed. ‘Fetch Dora back, please, Edward.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘We can manage without her.’ I’ve undressed Ruby often enough, he mused, and felt a great desire rushing through him as he thought of her compliant body. He swallowed hard and concentrated on unfastening the bands of whalebone.

  ‘Stand on a chair, then.’ May’s bottom lip trembled. ‘And lift it over my head.’

  Edward roared with laughter at the notion, but he did as he was bid and swung the hoop over May’s head, leaving her standing in her pantaloons and lace chemise, her arms crossed over her chest and her head lowered in embarrassment.

  Edward stepped down from the chair and took hold of her arms, forcing them wide so that he could look at her. ‘For heaven’s sake, May,’ he said softly. ‘You’re still covered from head to toe in clothing. I can’t see a single part of your body, not even your feet.’ He looked down at her feet which were encased in white silk stockings. ‘Why are you so embarrassed?’

  ‘It shouldn’t be like this,’ she sniffled. ‘You should have come in when I was in my night attire and ready to receive you.’

  ‘Ready to receive me?’ he bellowed. ‘What do you mean? That I’m only to come to your room with your approval? Must I ask permission to couple with you? What about desire, May? Have you given any thought to that?’

  May’s face blanched. ‘How dare you use such language to me?’ she whispered. ‘And on our wedding night!’

  ‘I can go elsewhere,’ he said from between clenched teeth, ‘if you do not wish to receive me. If tonight is not convenient to you.’

  She started to cry, sobbing that she never thought that it would be like this, but he gazed at her stony-faced, then interrupted her to ask, ‘Do you wish me to stay or not?’

  She wiped her cheeks with her fingers, and taking a deep breath said as if reluctantly, ‘I suppose you’d better. We’ll get it over and done with.’

  He swore beneath his breath. By God, but we will. Reaching towards her he roughly unfastened her chemise and threw it on the floor, then picked her up and carried her to the bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Grace arrived home late one midweek evening. The tour was considered to be a great success and many local and some national newspapers had given commentary on it. Their final town was Oldham; the group then split up and made their various ways home. Mary Morris had singled Grace out to offer her congratulations, and to remark that she was sure they would hear more of her. ‘You are young,’ she said, ‘and you may feel that what we are fighting for will never come. But it will,’ she asserted. ‘One day the common people, and women too, will find a different life from the one we know now. Don’t become downhearted.’ Mary gazed steadily at her. ‘Fight for what you believe in, and it will come.’

  Grace travelled with Miss Emerson and Molly for the final part of the journey, and on arriving in Hull she asked if she could be put out of the carriage in the Market Place.

  ‘Will you get a hansom?’ Miss Emerson asked. She fumbled in her reticule. ‘I have some change.’

  ‘No. No, thank you.’ Grace refused her offer. ‘I’d like to walk home.’

  ‘But it will soon be dark,’ Miss Emerson objected. ‘Will it be safe?’

  Grace smiled. ‘For me, yes,’ she said. ‘I have nothing that anyone would want.’

  ‘You have your youth and beauty, are you not afraid of being attacked?’

  Again Grace replied no. ‘This is my home town, Miss Emerson. I know which areas are safe and which are not. Will you thank your father for me?’ she asked. ‘It was so kind of him to allow me to travel in his carriage.’

  Miss Emerson opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it and gave her a pleasant smile. ‘Goodbye, Grace. It has been wonderful to have you with us. You have made such a difference.’ As the carriage started to move off she suddenly called a halt. ‘You have forgotten your travelling bag!’

  ‘Those are your garments, Miss Emerson,’ Grace told her. ‘Molly said that she would launder them for me. I have my things here.’ She showed her the package beneath her arm which contained her own clothes. ‘I will return the clothes that I’m wearing tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, but there’s no need.’ Miss Emerson seemed embarrassed. ‘You can keep them, really you can.’

  Grace hesitated. She had taken rather a fancy to the grey dress that she was wearing, and the red petticoat. ‘If you’re sure? No, no, I won’t take the others. Just this that I’m wearing. Thank you, you’ve been very kind.’

  She walked slowly home, along the Market Place and Lowgate, skirting the Old Dock, where, as always, there was a great activity of labourers unloading ships which had come in on the evening tide along the Humber, through the narrow Old Harbour and into the dock. This is a town to be proud of, she thought. So much industry. Whaling, timber, corn, iron, wool. She saw a ship with its decks piled high with hides, another which was being laden with bales of wool to be taken abroad. A wealthy town, like Da says, onny with poor people.

  She walked on towards Middle Court, cutting across Charlotte Street, Mason Street and Sykes Street, and was suddenly aware of how narrow the streets were, away from the main thoroughfare and bordering the river Hull. She saw people sitting on the doorsteps of their houses, for the evening was warm, and noted how they glanced at her as she passed. She nodded to some of them whom she knew by sight. Someone called out, ‘It’s Grace Sheppard, isn’t it?’ and she realized that by wearing different clothes she must look like a stranger to them. So this is why Miss Emerson was nervous, she pondered. I must seem to be better off than these people in their shabby garments. They don’t know that I’m the same person in spite of my clothes.

  The alleyway was dark and it stank of urine and animal matter. Did it always smell like this? she wondered. Was it always littered with debris? She held the skirt of her gown closer to her, away from the damp walls, and entered Middle Court. She had been so much looking forward to coming home, to seeing her ma and da, but she was overcome by the squalor of the court. Will I ever get used to it again? Her spirits dropped. Can I accept that this is how I will always live?

  She slowly opened the door to their room and put her head inside. There was a low fire burning in the grate. Her mother and father were sitting at the table eating their supper, and she was surprised to see Mr Hanson seated with them. She waited a second, for she had opened the door so quietly that they hadn’t heard her come in.

  Then her mother looked up. ‘Well, I never! Our bairn’s come home at last.’ She rose from the table and Grace frowned, for she saw the wince of pain on her mother’s face.

  ‘Ma! Da! Hello, Mr Hanson.’ She was disappointed that he was there, for she wanted immediately to share the news of what she had been doing with her parents. Now it would be tempered because there was a stranger in the house. But perhaps he wouldn’t be staying long. Then she saw the mattress on the floor and a thin curtain held up by string which stretched across from corner to corner.

  Her mother gave her a kiss and, on seeing that Grace had noticed the mattress, explained, ‘Mr Hanson’s staying with us for a bit – as a lodger. I’ve had to give up work.’

  Grace nodded and gave her mother’s arm a squeeze of sympathy, the
n moved to kiss her father on his forehead. ‘Welcome home, lass,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ve missed you.’

  ‘Well.’ Tom Hanson spoke up. Soup had dribbled from his mouth and stained the whiskers on his chin. ‘Prodigal daughter, eh! Hope you’ve been paid well while you’ve been away wi’ them nobs. We read about you in ’Packet.’

  ‘Will you have a drop o’ soup, Grace?’ Her mother gave her an anxious glance. ‘There’s some left.’

  ‘No.’ Grace shook her head. She wanted to cry. ‘I had something at dinnertime. I’m not hungry.’

  ‘By heck.’ Tom Hanson pushed his seat back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘There’s not many of us can say that.’

  ‘You’ve eaten well enough while you’ve been here.’ Lizzie’s voice was sharp.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean owt, missus. Don’t tek offence.’

  ‘Then watch your tongue,’ she said curtly.

  ‘I’m off out,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll be in later.’

  Grace’s mother pulled a face behind him as he left the house. She sat down again at the table. ‘I’m beginning to rue ’day that I asked him to come,’ she said angrily. ‘He’s that ignorant, has no manners or consideration for anybody but himself. There’s no wonder his missus left home.’

  They told Grace why they had asked him to stay. ‘We knew his money would just tide us over until I can get some other work,’ her mother said. ‘But I can’t apply for owt until my back is a bit better.’

  ‘I’ll be looking for a job in ’morning.’ Grace’s spirits dropped even lower. ‘We’ll manage, Ma, and then you can ask him to leave. I don’t suppose he’s had news of Daniel? And what about Ruby?’ she asked. ‘Have you seen her?’

  ‘Aye, once or twice. She’s been round here looking for you, wanting to know when you’d be back. But we’ve not heard owt about Daniel. But never mind about all of us. What about you? What about ’famous Miss Grace? Tell us what she’s been up to!’

  She found it strange talking about the past events, and it was almost as if she was speaking of someone else and not herself. She told them about the crowds at Wakefield, about the woman and the sick child, but not about the collection which she had given away. She had no need to be modest, however, for the news of her generosity had reached the Packet and her parents had read it.

  ‘That was right good of you, Grace,’ her father said. ‘You’ll allus find somebody worse off than yourself.’

  Grace agreed that that was true. ‘But had I known that you’d had to take in a lodger because I was away, I might have felt differently about it. I’ve been well fed,’ she confessed, ‘and I’ve slept in beds with cotton sheets and wool blankets, and a maid to bring me more breakfast than I could eat. But I haven’t earned a penny. Only this one.’ She took it out of her pocket and held it up for them to see. ‘I hope I never have to use it.’

  The next day, before going to look for work, she called on Ruby’s mother. ‘Will you tell Ruby I’m back, Bessie?’ she asked.

  Bessie was still in bed. A proper bed on legs which she said Ruby had bought for her. There wasn’t a fire, but Grace noticed there was a sack of coal and a box of firewood by the hearth. There was also a chair and a table and on the table was a loaf of bread and a jug.

  ‘Are you eating, Bessie? Are you managing to look after yourself?’

  Bessie sat up. Her skin was sallow and her hair lank. ‘Aye,’ she said in a quavery voice. ‘I manage, though I miss Ruby not being here, but she said I wouldn’t have my loddy if she wasn’t with her gentleman.’

  There was a knock on the door and a child came in. She looked at Grace and then at Bessie, who nodded at her. The child took the loaf from the table and picked up the jug, which appeared to be empty, and went back out again. Bessie shuffled about on the bed and said almost apologetically, ‘One of Mrs Blake’s bairns. They don’t get much to eat.’

  How generous, Grace thought, but I wonder what she is doing with the jug? Fetching ale perhaps?

  She left, reminding Bessie again to tell Ruby that she was back home, but as she turned out of the alley and into the street, there was Ruby walking towards her. They put out their arms and ran towards each other.

  ‘I’ve read about you in ’paper,’ Ruby said excitedly. ‘Edward left it when he came one day, I don’t think he’d read it cos he never mentioned you. He’s away,’ she said gleefully. ‘He’s just got married and has taken his wife on holiday for a few days, so I’ve got a bit of peace.’

  ‘Are you not worried that he might not come back to you now he’s married?’ Grace asked, and explained that she had already heard about the marriage from Miss Georgiana Gregory.

  ‘I know that he will,’ Ruby laughed. ‘He came to me on his wedding morning and ’day after. He’s besotted with me, Grace. Totally besotted!’

  Then how could he marry someone else? Grace thought as she looked at Ruby, so beautiful with her dark hair and sparkling eyes. She looked so plump and well that she didn’t wonder at Edward Newmarch falling in love with her.

  ‘She’s wealthy, of course,’ Ruby said. ‘And she doesn’t want any of ’bedroom palaver. He’d quite a time with her on their wedding night, it seems. She’s not taken with that sort of thing at all!’

  Grace gave a gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. How dreadful that Edward Newmarch should discuss his wife with Ruby. She remembered the conversation that Miss Gregory and Miss Emerson had had about Martin Newmarch, as they mulled over his personality and marriage prospects. If that is how well-to-do folk behave, she thought to herself, then I’m glad that I don’t belong with them.

  ‘I’ll just slip in and see Ma,’ Ruby said, ‘and then we’ll go and have a cup of chocolate. That’s what I’ve been doing,’ she laughed. ‘And that’s why I’m getting fat!’

  ‘I can’t,’ Grace said. ‘I’m going to look for work. I’ve been to see your ma, she’s still in bed.’

  ‘Going to look for work? I thought that after all you’d done, people would be asking for you.’

  Grace shook her head. ‘No. Everything is as it was and I need to earn a living. I’ve no money, Ruby. Nothing at all to live on and Mr Hanson is lodging with us. Ma wants him out.’

  ‘He’s mean,’ Ruby said, ‘and greedy. I don’t know how they managed to have a son like Daniel.’ She looked pensive. ‘He should be home soon. Do you think he’ll talk to me, Grace?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t he?’ Grace was surprised at the question.

  ‘You know – because I’m being kept by a gentleman.’

  ‘Oh! I don’t know.’ Grace considered. ‘Yes, of course he will.’ She saw the anxious look on Ruby’s face. ‘You’re fond of him, aren’t you?’

  Ruby put on a bright smile. ‘Of course I am! Just as you are. He’s our friend, isn’t he? But you’re the one he cares for, Grace. Make no mistake about that.’

  Grace’s job as a scullery maid at the Emersons’ had been given to someone else, her mother had told her, and she wasn’t sorry to hear of it. She didn’t want to work where there was a chance of bumping into Miss Emerson and causing any awkwardness. But she was disappointed to find that the work at Masterson and Rayner’s had gone.

  ‘I’m sorry. Very sorry,’ Mr Hardwick said to her. ‘But this girl is very thorough, as you were, and it wouldn’t be fair if she was asked to leave.’

  Grace hastily agreed that it wouldn’t. She wouldn’t want to take the bread from someone else’s table. She tried other places, shops of all kinds, factories, seed mills, offices, but everyone had a full contingent of workers. There had been a mass arrival of Irish people into Hull who were willing to work for coppers, and the employers were taking full advantage of them. So what else can I do? she thought despondently. I must find work of some kind or I’ll be begging in the streets. How else can I earn money to live?

  ‘Try for a housemaid or lady’s maid,’ her mother suggested the next day. ‘Try and go up in ’world. You’ve got ’right manner.’

  So she
wore the grey dress and applied at several houses, but she hadn’t had the experience, she was told, and some threw up their hands in horror that she hadn’t any references, and so another day went by. By the end of the following week she was getting desperate. She was trying not to eat after she had heard Tom Hanson muttering that he hadn’t expected to feed another mouth out of his wages.

  Ruby offered to give or lend her money, but she refused. She couldn’t turn away the box of groceries that Ruby brought in and left on the table, for she saw her mother’s face light up when she saw the packet of tea and a bag of potatoes and onions. ‘Don’t tell your da where it came from,’ she whispered after Ruby had gone. ‘He’ll not want to eat it.’

  Grace sighed. She took after her father, she realized. They were both far too proud for their own good.

  Then Tom Hanson came in on Saturday after work, sat down and ate his supper, and abruptly announced that he was leaving. He was taking lodgings with a widow in Sykes Street. ‘You can keep them saucepans belonging my wife,’ he said in an unaccustomed fit of generosity. ‘And I’ll sell ’mattress and chair, unless you want to buy ’em,’ he told Grace’s mother. ‘And you’ve had money for this week’s lodgings, so I’ve nowt to pay. I’ll be off first thing in ’morning.’

  Grace saw that her mother was deflated – they would only have her father’s wages coming in now. Lizzie turned an eagle eye on Tom Hanson and told him he was a mean and greedy peazan and she would be glad to see the back of him.

  After he had gone out, for he was a habitual drinker at one of the local inns, Grace sat on Daniel’s stool and threw another piece of wood on the fire. It burned quickly, being dry, and sparks flew out onto the clipped rug. There must be something I can do, she worried. There must be some way of earning money. Or else – She stiffened as a thought occurred to her. I could apply to ’workhouse! Ma and Da can’t keep me. I’ve no money and no livelihood. She looked up. Her mother was lying on the bed and her father was hunched in his chair staring into the flames.