The Workhouse Girl Read online

Sarah clutched Nettie’s hand even tighter. ‘Don’t let him take me.’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ Nettie said firmly.

  Cook clutched at the area railings, fanning herself vigorously. ‘Run and fetch a constable, Dorcas. The fellow should be taken to the watch house and locked up.’

  Dorcas seemed frozen to the spot and despite a hearty shove from Cook she remained where she was, staring open-mouthed.

  ‘You’ll give the child back, sir,’ Trigg shouted, fisting his hands. ‘You’ve cheated me out of five pounds and I’ve got to answer to the governors for my actions.’

  ‘You were quick enough to grab the money, workhouse master. We had an agreement and I’m holding you to it.’ Mr Arbuthnot stood his ground. ‘I’ll be the one to report to the governors and it won’t be favourable, I can tell you that.’

  ‘I couldn’t say anything in front of the other mill owners, but you took the child and it weren’t legal.’ Trigg took a step towards him. ‘Give me the girl and we’ll say no more about it.’

  Sarah uttered a strangled cry and hid behind Nettie. ‘I’m not going back to that place. I’d rather die.’

  Mr Arbuthnot turned his head as if realising for the first time that he had an audience. ‘Take the child indoors, Cook. She’s going nowhere with this abominable bully.’

  ‘Bully?’ Trigg roared. ‘I’ll have you know I’m acting within my rights. That child is the property of the workhouse. It was an honest mistake when I allowed her to leave with you. It’s kidnap, sir. Pure and simple.’

  ‘Choose your words carefully, Trigg. I could have you for slander.’

  Trigg made a strange gobbling sound deep in his throat. ‘Hand her over, or pay me the five pounds as recompense for my loss.’

  ‘That’s blackmail.’ Mr Arbuthnot turned to Dorcas. ‘Fetch a constable. Run quickly.’

  She danced up and down, wringing her hands. ‘I dunno where to find one, sir. Me legs have turned to jelly.’

  At that moment the front door of the house opened and Mrs Arbuthnot rushed out into the street. ‘Don’t touch my husband, you brute,’ she cried, placing herself between them with her arms outstretched. ‘You’ll have to knock me down first.’

  Mr Arbuthnot lifted her bodily and placed her behind him. ‘Thank you, my dear, but I can handle this.’

  Taking the opportunity provided by Mrs Arbuthnot’s dramatic intervention, Trigg lunged at Nettie, pushing her aside and grabbing Sarah by the arm. ‘You’re coming with me.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ A huge fist landed on Trigg’s jaw sending him spinning onto the cobblestones.

  Dazed and terrified, Sarah gazed up at her saviour.

  ‘You are safe, Liebchen.’ A burly, fair-haired young man with startlingly blue eyes smiled at her and ruffled her hair.

  ‘Franz.’ Dorcas uttered his name with a sigh of relief. ‘You was so brave.’

  He smiled modestly. ‘It was nothing. I cannot let the master down.’ He stood over Trigg, folding his arms. ‘You want to argue, mein Herr?’

  Mr Arbuthnot slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Thank you, Franz. That was good timing.’

  ‘Yes, boss. I think you had trouble here. Shall I hit him again?’

  ‘Take him away,’ Mrs Arbuthnot cried, clutching her husband’s arm. ‘Take the fellow away before my husband does him some harm.’

  Mr Arbuthnot patted her hand. ‘I’m not a violent man, as you very well know, Sophia. I don’t think we’ll have any more trouble with the workhouse master, but he hasn’t heard the last of this.’

  Keeping a wary eye on Franz, Trigg scrambled to his feet. ‘I’ll sue you for assault, you Kraut bastard.’

  Cook uttered a screech and hurried down the area steps. ‘Bring the girls inside, Dorcas. Don’t just stand there staring at the sugar baker.’

  Dorcas sidled up to Franz, smiling. ‘You was wonderful. I don’t think my Wally could have done better.’

  He nodded. ‘Thank you, but it was nothing.’

  ‘It was a timely intervention, Franz.’ Mr Arbuthnot shook his hand. ‘Is there a problem in the refinery, or were you just taking the air?’

  ‘I was coming to find you, mein Herr. You are needed in the sugar house.’

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as this man goes on his way.’ Mr Arbuthnot took a menacing step towards Trigg, who was dusting himself down.

  ‘All right, I’m going, but you haven’t heard the last of this.’ With a malicious glance in Sarah’s direction, Trigg lowered his voice. ‘You’d better watch out. I’ll have you, girl.’

  Franz uttered a guttural growl and chased him down the street.

  Nettie burst out laughing. ‘That’ll teach him.’

  Mrs Arbuthnot kissed her husband on the cheek. ‘You were so brave, James. I thought I was going to faint when I saw that brute attacking you, but you were magnificent.’

  He puffed out his chest. ‘Thank you, my dear, but it really was all in a day’s work. I’m used to dealing with scoundrels like Trigg. However, I think we’d better be on our guard for the next week or so. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to snatch the child.’ His smile faded. ‘Dorcas, I want you to keep an eye on both Sarah and Nettie. Don’t let them go out alone.’

  ‘No, sir.’ Dorcas curtseyed. ‘I’ll take care of them.’

  Mrs Arbuthnot held out her hands. ‘Come indoors, girls. I’ve just seen Miss Gant, my dressmaker, coming down the road.’ She ushered them into the house, hesitating on the step to give her husband a worried glance. ‘You will be careful too, won’t you, James? I don’t trust that man. He might make trouble for you.’

  His reply was lost on Sarah as she entered the hallway. She staggered and leaned against the wall as a feeling of faintness made the world spin dizzily around her.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Nettie said, putting her arms around her and giving her a hug. ‘I won’t let the old bugger get you.’

  ‘Ta, Nettie. I’m better now.’

  ‘That’s the ticket.’ Nettie moved away to primp in one of the gilt-framed mirrors. ‘I don’t half fancy that big German bloke. I wouldn’t mind working there if they’re all like that.’ She rolled her eyes and wiggled her hips.

  ‘You’re just saying that to make me laugh,’ Sarah said, giggling.

  ‘Well it worked, didn’t it?’ Nettie jumped to attention as Mrs Arbuthnot approached them, followed closely by Miss Gant.

  ‘Go into the parlour, girls. Miss Gant will take your measurements and then Dorcas will show you where you are to sleep.’

  The attic rooms were on the fourth floor at the very top of the house. Mrs Burgess occupied one of them, Dorcas another. A small space was used for storage, and the room allotted to Sarah and Nettie was at the back of the house overlooking a surprisingly large garden. Sarah went straight to the dormer window set beneath the eaves and peered out at what in her eyes appeared to be a small park. Despite the fact that it was late autumn, there were still a few sooty roses clinging to a pergola halfway down the garden, and a clump of bronze chrysanthemums created a pool of deep colour. The clouds had dispersed after a brief shower and the last rays of a pale golden sun played with the few remaining leaves on the trees, turning them into copper pennies dancing in the breeze. Having lived all of her life in the shadow of crowded tenements and dark alleyways where sunlight struggled to reach the pavements, Sarah could hardly believe her eyes as she gazed at the scene below. ‘It’s their garden,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I wonder if they’ll let us go outside and play.’

  ‘Stop gawping out of the window and feel the mattress on your bed,’ Nettie said, flinging herself down on her iron bedstead with a chortle of delight. ‘It’s flock-filled unless I’m very much mistaken, and we got proper cotton sheets and pillowcases, and a coverlet. We’ll sleep like princesses tonight.’

  Reluctantly, Sarah left the view and went to sit on her bed. ‘It’s lovely up here,’ she whispered. ‘I used to sleep on the floor when I was with Ma in Vinegar Yard. She had the bed and the babies was
put in a drawer while they was alive, and in little wooden boxes when they died.’ She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘I can’t believe they’ll let us stay here, Nettie. It might be just for tonight and then we’ll have to sleep on the bare tiles in the kitchen. That’s what most servants do.’

  Nettie lay on her back, staring at the sloping ceiling. ‘You know a lot for a kid. I spent most of me life in the workhouse.’

  ‘I don’t really. It’s just things I overheard in the theatre. They used to forget I was there.’

  ‘Well, I don’t care if this is just for tonight, and I don’t mind if Miss Gant with the big sticking-out teeth makes me something even worse than this blooming uniform, I’m just going to enjoy each day of freedom as it comes and eat as much grub as I can get down me. If it all ends tomorrow, I’d still think it was worthwhile if only to have seen old Trigg lying in the horse shit and the rubbish in the gutter with his eyes rolling in fear of the sugar baker.’

  Sarah was not so sure. She had a nasty feeling that Trigg would have his revenge. She had been in the workhouse long enough to learn that the master was the law as far as the inmates were concerned, and he was not used to having his authority questioned. She was also painfully aware that she had made an enemy of Mrs Trigg from the start, and that together the Triggs were a formidable foe. She did not think that either of them would give up easily once they had made their minds up about something. She wished she could be as confident as Nettie when it came to the future, but experience had taught her that she could take nothing for granted. Life had a way of playing nasty tricks on poor people, and no one was poorer than a pauper.

  Next morning while it was still dark they were awakened by Dorcas, who burst into the room and shook them until they opened their eyes. ‘Get dressed and come downstairs. I dunno what you’re both supposed to be doing in the house but you can make yourselves useful.’

  For a moment Sarah thought she was back in the workhouse and she fell out of bed, landing on the rag rug with a thud.

  ‘Lord, you’re eager,’ Dorcas said, chuckling. ‘I wish young Betty was as good at getting up as you are. I have to prod and poke that simpleton until she gets up from her bed by the hearth, and even then it’s hard to tell if she’s awake or not.’

  Nettie stretched luxuriously and sat up. ‘I never had a night’s sleep like that in me whole life. I thought I was floating on a cloud, and I was snuggled up warm and comfy; it was lovely.’

  ‘I’m glad, but don’t run away with the idea that you’re going to be spoilt rotten, because we work just as hard as any servants in the square. You’ll be on your feet from before dawn until late at night if needs be, so you’d better start now. Nettie can fetch in the coal and you, Sarah, will help me clean out the grates and lay the fires.’

  ‘Yes, Dorcas.’ Sarah slipped her much-hated grogram dress over her head and put on her pinafore. ‘I’m ready.’

  Sarah was used to hard work, but she soon realised that Dorcas as the only housemaid in the establishment had duties that kept her fully occupied. There was the back-breaking task of carrying coal up several flights of stairs, not to mention the pitchers of hot water needed to fill the washbowl in the master bedroom. The chamber pots had to be emptied before the night soil collector called to take away the stinking human waste, and the potties had to be washed and dried before being replaced beneath the beds.

  ‘We must feed you both up,’ Cook said, filling Sarah’s bowl with porridge when it was time to stop for breakfast. ‘You and young Nettie are like a pair of skinned rabbits. You need more meat on your bones.’

  It was hardly a flattering description, but Sarah took it meekly, although Nettie scowled as she spooned food into her mouth. ‘I can work as hard as the rest of you,’ she said sulkily. ‘But I ain’t going to be a housemaid all me life. I’ll tell you that for nothing, missis.’

  ‘You address me as Cook, or Mrs Burgess, and I don’t want any of your lip, Nettie. It’s up to the mistress if she chooses to employ you on a permanent basis, so if I was you I’d keep my mouth shut and only speak when spoken to. We’re not interested in what you want or don’t want. We all have work to do.’

  Nettie subsided into silence and quickly mopped up a second bowl of porridge.

  Dorcas came clattering down the stairs. ‘The mistress wants to see you in the front parlour, Sarah.’

  Sarah jumped to her feet and Nettie half rose but Dorcas shook her head. ‘Not you, Nettie. Just the young ’un.’

  ‘Have I done something wrong?’ Sarah asked nervously. ‘I done everything you told me to, Dorcas.’

  ‘It’s no use asking me. I don’t know what she wants.’ Dorcas took her seat at the table. ‘My corns are killing me. It’s these blooming boots; they’re too small, but I can’t afford a new pair until next quarter when I get paid.’

  ‘I told you not to waste your money on that new bonnet, girl,’ Cook said, slapping a plateful of porridge on the table in front of Dorcas. ‘You only bought it to impress that young man of yours. You should have been more sensible.’

  ‘Wally thought it was very pretty and he don’t look at my feet.’ Dorcas stared pointedly at Sarah. ‘Why are you still here? The mistress is waiting for you.’

  Sarah sent a mute plea for help to Nettie, but she shook her head. ‘I can’t hold your hand all the time, nipper. It seems you’re the favourite round here and I’m just the skivvy.’

  ‘That’s enough of that talk,’ Cook said severely. ‘Perhaps you’d rather go back to the workhouse if you don’t like it here? The master went there to get strong lads to help in the sugar house and all he brought back was two little girls, so watch your tongue, young lady.’

  Nettie subsided into silence, her mouth pulled down at the corners and her jaw clenched. Sarah gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before making her way to the parlour.

  She hesitated outside the door, taking deep breaths as she plucked up the courage to knock. What would she do if Mr Arbuthnot had changed his mind and decided to give her back to Trigg and his wife? The mere thought of it made her feel faint with anxiety. She tapped gently on the oak door panel.

  ‘Enter.’ Mrs Arbuthnot’s voice sounded friendly enough.

  Sarah peeped into the room, half expecting to see the workhouse master, but to her intense relief Mrs Arbuthnot was seated in a chair by the fire with an embroidery hoop clasped in one hand and a needle threaded with pink silk in the other. She was alone and she looked up, her face breaking into a smile. ‘Come in, Sarah, and close the door.’

  Sarah did as she was told but she hesitated, not knowing what to do next.

  ‘Come over here and sit on the stool beside me. I want to talk to you.’ She waited until Sarah was seated. ‘Dorcas tells me that you’ve been helping her this morning.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘I’m not sure that such heavy work is suitable for a girl of your age.’

  ‘I’m nearly ten, ma’am. And I’m used to working hard.’

  ‘Yes, I know, and it bothers me. I think a child of your age ought to be in school, even if you are a girl.’

  ‘I can read and write, ma’am.’

  ‘And my husband tells me that you can recite some Shakespeare.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Well, that is a talent in itself. You obviously have a retentive memory and I think you ought to have more schooling.’

  ‘You’re not going to send me away, are you?’

  ‘No, Sarah. I intend to find a teacher who will give you at least two hours each morning, except Sundays, of course.’

  ‘Miss Parfitt.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but she taught us at the workhouse. Miss Parfitt is lovely.’

  ‘That’s all very well, but it’s unlikely that she’ll be available. However, I’ll see what I can do, and in the meantime you will continue to help Dorcas. I’ll make certain that she gives you some of the lighter chores around the hou
se.’

  Realising that she had been dismissed, Sarah stood up but she did not leave the room immediately. She hesitated, twisting her hands together as she struggled to find the right words. Mrs Arbuthnot looked up from her sewing, her eyebrows raised. ‘Have you got a question, Sarah?’

  ‘Yes’m. What about Nettie? Will she have lessons too?’

  Mrs Arbuthnot frowned. ‘I think she’s probably had all the education she will need in life, but you may send her to me. I’ll have a word with Nettie.’

  When Nettie returned to the kitchen she was looking distinctly downhearted. ‘I’ve got to help Dorcas and do everything she says. I might as well be back in the blasted workhouse.’

  ‘Language,’ Cook said crossly. ‘You should think yourself lucky to be here.’

  ‘I suppose I am, but I don’t want to be a servant all me life.’

  ‘But it’s lovely here,’ Sarah protested. ‘You know it is, Nettie. We got a comfy bed and three square meals a day.’

  ‘It won’t make me rich, though.’ Nettie slumped down at the table. ‘No one got rich by cleaning privies and humping coal. Anyway, it’s all right for you. You’re going to have lessons and learn to be a young lady.’

  Cook reached across the table and smacked Nettie’s hand with a wooden spoon. ‘That’s for grumbling when you got no cause. I was going to take you and Sarah to Wilton’s music hall on Saturday night as a special treat, but I’ve changed my mind now.’

  Nettie leapt to her feet and rushed round the table to hug Cook. ‘I didn’t mean it. I was just being a grump. Please, please take us to the theatre, Cook. I never been to one in me life and I’m dying to see what it’s like.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ Sarah whispered, clasping her hands together. ‘Please forgive Nettie. She don’t mean a word of it really. She’s ever so grateful to the master and mistress and to you and Dorcas and even Betty.’

  Betty popped her head out of the scullery. ‘Who called me name?’

  ‘No one,’ Cook said hastily. ‘Get back to your work, silly girl.’ She waited until Betty was splashing about in the stone sink. ‘She’s not all there, poor little soul. We’ll settle her down with a drop of Hollands when we go to the theatre. She’ll sleep by the fire and Dorcas will keep an eye on her.’