Born to Trouble (23 page)

She ignored the voice in her mind which pointed out that she could barely manage now. It wasn’t an option to leave them where they were, and that was that. The stigma of the workhouse had sat upon them like a mantle and they’d already had years of it. She didn’t question whether it was right or wrong to remove them from the institution. She didn’t have to. It was only the means of how this could be accomplished that was troubling her.

A grey twilight came early but Pearl didn’t light a candle; she rarely did unless she absolutely had to. Normally she was so tired in the evenings she went straight to bed after she’d had something to eat, the glow from the fire she always lit on walking in sufficient to enable her to see what she was doing. Candles were a luxury, and if it was a choice of them or coal for the fire, warmth always won.

She had bought a thick eiderdown for the bed from the Old Market, delving into the small hoard of money she had left from the farmwork. Now she undressed down to her shift, keeping her woollen stockings on, and slid under the covers, hugging her knees as she curled into a little ball to keep warm.

Since arriving in the town her thoughts had centred on Christopher and her brothers, and Byron to some extent, but tonight it was the fat, greasy figure of Mr Fallow who filled her mind. He was even more repulsive than she remembered. She shivered, but not with cold. And the way he had marched into the building as though he owned it . . . which he did in a way, she supposed. Certainly the workhouse master was someone who was greatly respected and feared, a man with untold power. And to think Mr F had a wife! Not only that, but she was the Matron of the workhouse, the second-in-command so to speak. Pearl had only glanced at her briefly because she’d been focusing on Mr F, but she had taken in that the woman was enormously fat.

The old fear of the man who had abused her so savagely was making her insides writhe, along with worry about James and Patrick, and she had never felt so alone. Alone and helpless. She was beyond tears.

She must have fallen asleep because when she next opened her eyes, the fire had gone out and the room was as black as pitch. She could hear shouting and cursing from one of the rooms below where a family of six were packed in like sardines, but it wasn’t that which made her sit up in bed, her eyes wide.

She knew what she was going to do now.

The next day was a Sunday. At eight o’clock in the morning Pearl was standing outside the locked workhouse gates insisting to the porter that she be allowed admittance. When he tried and failed to persuade the ‘stiff-necked little madam’ – as he later described Pearl to his wife – to see reason, he gave up and fetched the admittance officer on duty. The officer took Pearl to the Assistant Matron. When Pearl still continued to maintain that what she had to say was for the ears of Mr Fallow only, adding she was sure he would see her when he was told she had information regarding a Mrs Kitty Croft of Low Street, she was shown to a small brown-painted room which had a backless form running round three walls.

Half an hour later, half an hour in which Pearl oscillated between blind terror and controlled panic, the door to the room opened and Leonard Fallow walked in. He was alone.

Staring at the young slim girl standing so straight and still in front of him, he bit out one word.
‘You!’

She had wondered if he would recognise her. Eight years was a long time and she had been a child. Strangely, because she was trembling inside, her voice held no tremor when she said, ‘Yes, Mr Fallow. Me.’

He had shut the door behind him but now he turned and opened it again, poking his head out into the empty corridor beyond before he closed it again. Without any preamble, he said, ‘What do you want?’

Pearl’s face was deathly white but her manner was composed, even calm. ‘I want my brothers released into my care.’

‘What?’ The shiny brow wrinkled, his black eyes disappearing into the fat of his face. Whatever he had expected it clearly wasn’t this. ‘What the hell are you on about, girl?’

‘My brothers, James and Patrick, are in here and I’ve been told I can’t get them out. You’re the workhouse master, you can release them to me.’

Leonard Fallow found he couldn’t take his eyes off the girl in front of him. He didn’t desire her any more – once they reached a certain age that predilection was gone – but this girl had been an ache in his loins for years. She’d made him a laughing-stock with the group of men who shared his weakness; he’d told them about her and offered to share her with them, and then the mother had told him she’d vanished into thin air. He hadn’t visited the house again, but that hadn’t stopped him thinking about her, morning, noon and night. She’d been like a curse on his life.

His eyes as hard as bullets, he drawled, ‘And why would I do that, pray?’

Pearl’s anger was overcoming her fear. The Mr F of her imagination had assumed the power and ability of an omnipotent monster over the years. Mr Fallow, workhouse master, was just a man. A repugnant, oily, dirty-minded man who had ruined her life and been the means of her having to leave her brothers and ultimately them ending up in this hell-hole.

Without faltering, she said, ‘Because if you don’t, I will make it my business to see that your wife and everyone else knows about your secret life, a life which involves visiting whores and violating little girls. I don’t think the guardians would be pleased to know what their workhouse master is really like.’

‘You’re threatening me?’

‘Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.’

He took a step towards her and in spite of herself she shrank back; the thought of any part of him coming into contact with her was insupportable.

Leonard smiled. ‘You and your mother are the scum of the earth, m’dear,’ he said softly. ‘Who do you think would listen to you? And if your brothers are in here as you claim, I’ll make sure they don’t get out a day before they are able, and then I’ll send them to a master who’ll make their days in here seem like a holiday in comparison to what he’ll put them through. Now I suggest you get back to whatever hole you’ve crawled out of and continue obliging those men who pay for your services – unless you want me to call the law and tell them you are mentally unfit and ready for the asylum.’

‘I am not like my mother, Mr Fallow.’ Pearl didn’t know where the words were coming from, she only knew this man was her last chance of getting her brothers released. ‘She was a whore as we both know, and weak and cowardly too – unless she was bullying her children. I have a respectable job and my own home -’ she didn’t see why he should know it was only a rented room – ‘and I would be only too pleased for you to call a constable. I’m sure he would listen to what I have to say, as would your wife. She’ll believe me, I’ll make sure of it.’

He swore, a foul profanity, lifting his arm with his fist clenched, but this time Pearl held her ground. After a moment his arm dropped to his side. ‘You leave my wife out of this.’

‘That’s not my decision, it’s yours.’

‘Who do you think you are, to talk to me like this? Whether you have a job or no, you’re a trollop born of a trollop and blood outs. I’m a respected member of the community, people look up to me.’

‘They look up to the person you profess to be, but no one would look up to a pervert who rapes bairns.’

‘Shut up!
Shut up!’
Leonard Fallow was practically foaming at the mouth but Pearl glared back at him, her eyes blazing. It was even more important now that she got James and Patrick out of this place; by his own admission Fallow would make their lives even more miserable than they were already. After a few moments during which he ground his teeth, he said, ‘How do I know you won’t be back next week asking for something more if I let your brothers go?’

Wild elation surged through her but she was careful to let no trace of it show in her face or voice. ‘I want nothing to do with you, Mr Fallow. Nothing. You disgust me, and if I never have to set eyes on you again I’ll be content.’

He stared at her, tugging down his waistcoat over his balloon-like stomach and straightening his morning coat. He always dressed thus and his clothes were of the best quality and cut; after all, a man was judged on his appearance. His lower jaw moved from side to side a few times. ‘How do I know I can trust you?’

‘You don’t.’ Still unflinching, she looked back into his perspiring face. She felt sick to her stomach that this gross man had had her and used her; she wanted to shout and scream and cry and scratch his eyes out, but that wouldn’t get her James and Patrick. ‘You’ll just have to take my word for it.’

‘The word of a whore? That’s a joke.’

Hating him, she didn’t answer, merely swallowing hard as the stench of his sweat came to her nostrils. He was frightened of calling her bluff, she could see it in his face.

Nevertheless she had her work cut out to hide her surprise when he suddenly said, ‘All right, you can take the boys and be damned, I don’t care – but if you repeat a word of this, it won’t be only you who suffers. Do you understand me?’

Hardly daring to believe he meant what he said, she nodded. ‘I understand perfectly.’

‘You’d better. A loose mouth can be shut permanently.’

‘I told you, all I want is my brothers.’

He stared at her a moment more before turning and opening the door. ‘Wait here.’

Once she was alone again Pearl sank down on the bench. The trembling she’d hidden from him now wouldn’t be denied, and her hands were shaking as if with the ague. Telling herself she couldn’t afford to give way until she was sure he wasn’t playing a trick on her, she forced herself to stand up and began pacing, taking great gulps of air as she did so. Eventually all outward agitation was gone, even though her head was whirling as she went over what had been said.

When the door opened, she prepared herself to face him again, but it was the Assistant Matron who entered, carrying a bundle of clothes. ‘Mr Fallow says it’s imperative you take your brothers home today, Miss Croft. As you have given him the necessary documentation I don’t see that as a problem, although it is highly irregular.’

Pearl did not reply. She couldn’t. She was feeling faint.

‘Your brothers will be brought here shortly, where they will change into these clothes. Please concentrate while I lay them out for you.’ So saying, she began to make separate piles on the form. ‘One pair of drawers each, one vest each, one pair of woollen socks each, one linen shirt each, one pair of short trousers each, one knitted pullover each, one jacket each, one cap each. They will retain the boots they are wearing at present.’ She straightened after adding a small Bible to each pile. ‘Please sign this form to say you’ve received this and add your current address. You can write, I take it? Good. Now, any questions, Miss Croft?’

Numbly, Pearl said, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘You understand that the contents of the abode your brothers were taken from were sold and the money given to the guardians as a small – and in the case of the Croft brothers I understand it was very small – donation towards their keep?’

Pearl hadn’t given the matter a thought but she nodded.

‘Mr Fallow has expressed his satisfaction that the boys’ welfare will be adequately taken care of.’ The Assistant Matron’s tone suggested she suspected otherwise. However, she had no chance to say anything further because after a knock on the door it opened and one of the officers led James and Patrick into the room.

Pearl wanted to reach out and take them into her arms, but conscious of the two women’s eagle eyes, she contented herself with saying, ‘You’re coming home with me today,’ as she tried to smile naturally.

They nodded but appeared too overwhelmed to speak.

The Assistant Matron instructed the officer: ‘You will see Miss Croft and her brothers to the gates, Miss Ferry.’ Turning her gaze on James and Patrick, she said, ‘I shall expect you to conduct yourselves with propriety at all times. You were most fortunate to come under the care of this establishment, so please see you reflect the values which have been taught to you.’

Again they did not reply, which caused the woman to frown. Quickly, Pearl said, ‘Thank you. I’m sure they will.’

After exchanging a glance with the officer, the Assistant Matron nodded sharply and left the room.

‘Take off your uniforms and fold them neatly and leave them on the bench.’ The officer pushed James and Patrick towards the two piles of clothes. ‘Here are your new clothes. Make sure you look after them.’

The boys did as they were told. Once they were fully dressed, Pearl held out her hands to them and they came and stood with her. The clothes they had been given would have been taken from lads their age who had come into the workhouse, and were far from new. Patrick’s jacket was verging on threadbare. But she still had a little money left from her farmwork, Pearl thought. She could buy them each a warm coat from the Old Market if nothing else.

‘Follow me, please.’ The officer opened the door and led them along a corridor which opened into a wider passage. The smell Pearl had noticed in the hall the day before was stronger here, verging on a stench. She glanced at the double door as they passed and the officer said, ‘Infirm ward for the chronic patients,’ as though that explained everything. Which it did, she supposed.

Pearl didn’t speak to James and Patrick as they walked along clutching her hands so tightly it hurt, and they still hadn’t said a word. Two more corridors later and they reached doors which opened up into the hall. Once they reached the vestibule, which had no officer sitting at the table which had been pushed against the wall, unlike on visiting day, the grip on her fingers became even more intense. And then they were outside in the fresh air and walking towards the main gates.

The porter came out as they approached, nodding at the officer and then speaking directly to Pearl. ‘Got what you came for then?’ he said, glancing at James and Patrick.