The Best of Sisters Page 5

  ‘Is anything wrong, dearie?’ Dolly’s face crumpled into lines of distress.

  ‘No! No, of course not.’ Eliza sat down, thrusting her feet into the boots, concentrating on doing up the buttons so that she did not have to look Dolly in the eye. ‘I dunno what to say, that’s all. I never had such wonderful presents in me whole life.’

  Ted cleared his throat with a loud harrumph. ‘Well you deserve them, ducks. Now get along to your place of work. You don’t want to upset that nice Mrs Tubbs, now do you?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ Nice Mrs Tubbs indeed! Eliza managed to smile but it was not easy. She longed to tell them the truth, but she must not spoil the day. She stood up, wriggling her toes inside the boots; if she was being honest her feet were not too comfortable. It was so long since she had worn shoes that it felt very strange. ‘I’d best be on me way or I’ll be late for work.’

  ‘You must wear your bonnet as well,’ Dolly said, thrusting the dreamy confection of silk and feathers into her hands.

  ‘No, really, I’d rather keep it for Sunday best.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, girl,’ Ted said, pulling on his cloth cap. ‘We bought it for you to wear every day like a proper young lady. I’ll walk you to the corner, Liza. And enjoy seeing folks admiring my pretty daughter.’ He offered her his arm and Eliza took it with a smile. Dolly gave her one last hug and, standing in the doorway, she waved enthusiastically. As they turned the corner, Eliza saw that she was still waving, although she suspected that without her specs Dolly could see no further than the end of her nose.

  Her new boots that creaked with every step and her blue bonnet certainly did attract stares from passers-by. Ted puffed out his chest with pride as they said goodbye on the corner of Old Gravel Lane. He strolled across the road to the chandlery and Eliza walked on to Mrs Tubbs’s establishment with a heavy heart. She had already decided that she was going to hide the bonnet as soon as she got to work, but she was not quick enough: Maisie spotted her as soon as she entered the kitchen. Lurching up from her chair, Maisie stumbled over a stool and only saved herself from falling by clutching at the edge of the table, sending a pile of dirty plates crashing to the floor.

  ‘Look at you,’ she jeered, pointing drunkenly at Eliza’s bonnet, ‘all dolled up like a Whitechapel doxy.’

  Eliza tugged at the ribbons but she only succeeded in tying them into a tighter knot. ‘Leave me be.’

  ‘Think yourself all la-di-da don’t you?’ Staggering crabwise with her boots crunching on shards of broken china, Maisie followed Eliza to the broom cupboard. ‘Look at you in new boots as well. Some bloke must have paid you well for your services, you little whore.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Turning on Maisie, Eliza faced up to her, too angry to feel frightened. ‘Leave me alone.’

  Maisie’s face contorted with rage and she raised her arm as if to strike Eliza, but, losing her balance, she fell flat on her back shrieking for help and with her legs waving in the air, like an upturned beetle. Eliza snatched up a broom, brandishing it in Maisie’s face. ‘Serves you right for drinking all that gin. You leave me alone or I’ll bop you one with this broom.’

  ‘What’s going on in here? I could hear the noise upstairs in the dining room.’ Mrs Tubbs’s stentorian voice echoed round the kitchen.

  Reluctantly, Eliza lowered the broom; it was no use trying to explain. She glanced anxiously at Stinger hanging on the wall, and her backside was already tingling in anticipation of the next assault.

  Maisie scrambled to her feet, pointing at Eliza. ‘She done it, missis. She come in flaunting herself and she broke them plates on purpose, just to spite me.’

  ‘Shut up, you drunken fool. You’ve been at the jigger gin again, Maisie. I’ve warned you a hundred times what’ll happen if you pour that foul stuff down your throat.’

  Muttering and whining, Maisie crawled over to her chair and sat upon it, shivering. ‘I only takes a drop of two to ease me twinges, missis. When the miseries get into me bones there’s nothing to ease them but a drop or two of gin.’

  While attention was diverted away from herself, Eliza struggled with the knot in the ribbon. Then Mrs Tubbs turned to stare at her and Eliza’s hands shook as she noted the appraising look in her employer’s eyes.

  ‘That colour brings out the blue in your eyes, Eliza.’ Mrs Tubbs stood with arms akimbo, smiling and looking Eliza up and down until she felt like a prime beef animal in Smithfield Market. ‘How old are you, Eliza?’

  She was tempted to lie, but attending church three times a day on Sunday had left its mark on Eliza and she had to tell the truth. ‘Thirteen today, missis.’

  ‘Ah! Thirteen, you’re almost a woman and you ain’t half bad-looking now I take a proper look-see. How do you fancy training to be a chambermaid then, Eliza?’

  Shaking her head, Eliza finally managed to undo the ribbon and she yanked the bonnet off her head, stowing it at the back of the broom cupboard. ‘If it’s all the same to you, missis, I’d rather stick to the job I’ve got.’

  Mrs Tubbs waddled across the floor towards her, hooking her arm around Eliza’s shoulders. ‘Come now, dearie. Wouldn’t you like three square meals a day and a pretty new dress to match that fine bonnet?’ She cast a meaningful look at Stinger.

  Eliza shook her head. ‘No ma’am, I’d rather keep to what I know.’

  ‘Then it’s time we had a chat with Stinger,’ Mrs Tubbs said, snatching the cane from the wall. ‘Bend over, Eliza. Maybe a taste of Stinger’s medicine will help you change your mind.’

  Stiff and sore, Eliza was cleaning out the grate in the upstairs parlour when the door opened and Dr Prince came in. She was not supposed to be in the public rooms when the lodgers were about, but it was mid-morning and she had not expected any of the gents to be in residence. Clambering to her feet, she muttered an apology.

  ‘Don’t mind me, Eliza. I was just looking for a lost collar stud.’ Dr Prince grinned ruefully. ‘Can’t find the damn thing anywhere. I’m always losing the little devils, and it don’t do for a professional gent to turn up at someone’s front door with his collar half undone.’

  He looked so pleasant and friendly that Eliza found herself smiling back at him. ‘I suppose not, sir.’

  ‘Help me look, there’s a good girl. If you find it, I’ll give you a farthing.’ He began rummaging around on the sofa, sending cushions flying onto the floor.

  Eliza set the bucket back in the hearth and immediately spotted an ivory collar stud lying in the grate. She bent to pick it up, uttering an involuntary grunt of pain as her sore muscles went into spasm. Mrs Tubbs had meant business this morning when she used Stinger. Eliza had not given in, but she knew that this was the first of many beatings to come if she didn’t accept her terms.

  ‘Is anything wrong, Eliza?’

  She looked up to find Dr Prince eyeing her with a concerned look in his startlingly blue eyes. ‘No, sir. I mean yes, I’m a bit stiff.’

  He put his head on one side. ‘Have you been horse riding, young lady?’

  Responding to the twinkle in his eyes, Eliza found herself chuckling at the ridiculous thought that she might be rich enough to own a horse, or even hire one from a livery stable. ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Then my guess is that someone has seen fit to tan your hide. Am I right?’

  Eliza held out her hand with the collar stud resting on her palm. ‘I found it in the grate, sir.’

  Dr Prince took it but his eyes never left her face and he ran his hand through his wavy bronze hair. ‘Thank you, Eliza.’

  ‘You’re welcome, sir.’

  ‘Now answer me truthfully. Did Mrs Tubbs beat you?’

  Eliza stared down at her new boots.

  ‘I guessed as much. Now a hiding from Mrs Tubbs, with all that considerable weight behind her, would be rather painful. I have a special ointment in my medicine case that will alleviate all the soreness. Come to my room, Eliza, and I’ll give you some to take home with you.’

  Going to a gentleman’s roo
m meant only one thing, according to the other girls. Startled and ready to run out of the door, Eliza shook her head. ‘No, ta for the offer, but it’s better already.’

  ‘You needn’t be afraid of me, Eliza. I’m a medical man.’

  She snatched up the bucket filled with ashes, clutching it in front of her like a shield. ‘I ain’t allowed in the gents’ rooms.’

  ‘Wait.’ He caught hold of Eliza’s hand as she went past him. ‘Has that woman been threatening you? You can trust me. I know exactly what goes on in this establishment. If it wasn’t so cheap, I wouldn’t stop here another night. Come, child. You can tell me.’

  ‘Please leave me be, sir. I’m all right, really I am.’ Glancing up at Dr Prince, Eliza saw that he was frowning: she could tell by the expression in his eyes that he did not believe her.

  ‘I’m not convinced, but I won’t say anything more on the subject, for now.’

  Eliza bobbed a curtsey and hurried back to the kitchen where she found Maisie sprawled on the floor, face down, with an empty bottle clutched in her hand. Stepping over her, Eliza set about clearing up the broken china and washing the pots and pans from last night’s dinner. She had just finished when Mrs Tubbs sailed into the room, stopping short to stare down at Maisie’s prostrate figure with an exclamation of annoyance. ‘Get up, Carter.’

  Maisie groaned, but did not move.

  ‘Get up this instant or you’re sacked.’ Mrs Tubbs prodded Maisie in the ribs with the toe of her shoe. ‘Do you hear me?’

  Maisie rolled over onto her side and opened one bleary eye. ‘Is it morning yet?’

  ‘You’re drunk and you’re sacked.’ Aiming a savage kick at Maisie’s ribs, Mrs Tubbs staggered and almost came down on top of her.

  ‘You can’t sack me,’ Maisie said thickly. ‘I’m your sister.’

  ‘Sister or no, you’re a drunkard and I’m sick of carrying you. Either get up and start cooking them joints of meat before they walk out of the larder on their own, or get out of my house for good.’

  Eliza stared, open-mouthed. She had often wondered why Mrs Tubbs kept Maisie on, and now she had the answer. Surely two sisters could never have been so unalike in appearance? Although, now she came to think of it, they were identical when it came to nastiness.

  ‘And you, girl.’ Mrs Tubbs turned her fierce gaze on Eliza. ‘What are you staring at?’

  ‘Nothing, missis.’

  ‘Get on up them stairs to the dining room; you’re starting your new job as chambermaid today. I’ve got your replacement all ready to take over cleaning the kitchen.’ She turned to point her finger at a small girl cowering in the doorway. ‘Come here, child, don’t stand there snivelling.’

  Maisie got to her feet, lurched sideways and landed on her chair with a grunt. ‘Throw that one back, sister, she’s too small to be of any use.’

  Mrs Tubbs caught the unfortunate child by the ear and dragged her into the kitchen. ‘This here is Millie, and she’s the new scullery maid. You, Eliza, you show her what to do and then get up them stairs, double-quick.’

  Staring at the terrified girl, Eliza felt anger boil up inside her. Millie was puny and undersized; she was probably seven or eight, Eliza thought, but she only looked five or six. Her brown eyes were underlined with smudged shadows and appeared to be far too large for her oval face; her lips quivered as though she was trying hard not to cry.

  ‘She’s too little,’ Eliza said, placing her arm around Millie’s shoulders. ‘She won’t have the strength to do my work.’

  Mrs Tubbs seized Stinger from the wall, swishing it through the air. ‘Fancy another taste of Stinger then do you, Eliza?’

  ‘No, I don’t and I don’t want to work above stairs neither.’

  ‘Ho, don’t you? We’ll have to see about that. Bend over, girl. You watch this, Millie Turner, because this is what bad servant girls gets.’ Brandishing the cane, Mrs Tubbs advanced on Eliza.

  ‘Beat me again and I’ll call a copper.’

  Mrs Tubbs let out a roar of laughter that made the saucepans clang together on their hooks in a carillon. ‘And who’d take any notice of a scrap of a girl like you? I’m within me rights to whip you whenever I feels like it, ain’t that right, Maisie?’

  Maisie lifted her head, opening one eye. ‘Give her what for, that’s what I say.’

  ‘Bend over. I won’t tell you again.’ Mrs Tubbs took a step nearer to Eliza.

  She stood her ground. ‘I won’t.’

  Mrs Tubbs’s fat arm shot out, grabbing Eliza by the scruff of the neck, and bending her double over a stool she held her down with one hand, using the other to lift Eliza’s skirts and expose her bare buttocks. She brought the cane down hard, again and again. Millie’s terrified keening and Maisie’s drunken laughter drowned Eliza’s screams. Mrs Tubbs seemed to have lost all self-control and, for a moment, Eliza was certain that she was going to die. Then, suddenly, the beating stopped and a man’s voice was raging at Mrs Tubbs. Raising her head, Eliza saw Dr Prince snatch Stinger from her and break it across his knee.

  ‘That’s what I think of you, madam. You are nothing more than a sadistic bully and you should be reported to the magistrate for child cruelty.’

  Sick with pain, Eliza slipped to the floor. As she tugged her skirts over her bare backside she felt something warm and sticky on her hand. It was blood. Stifling an anguished cry, she was convinced that she was dying; bleeding to death after that savage beating.

  Mrs Tubbs glared at Dr Prince with narrowed eyes. ‘That’s no child. She was bleeding before I took Stinger to her. She’s begun her courses and that means she’s full grown. Do you fancy being the first to have her, Dr Prince? I’ll do you a cheap deal if you like.’

  He tossed the broken pieces of the cane onto the flagstones and stamped on them. ‘Madam, you disgust me. I’m taking this child away from here and if you try to stop me, I’ll have you closed down for running a brothel.’

  Mrs Tubbs recoiled as if Dr Prince has slapped her across the face, but she appeared to recover quickly. ‘One word from you, Freddie Prince, and I’ll have you arrested for peddling quack medicines.’

  ‘Touché!’ He clicked his heels together in a mock salute and his generous mouth curved into a wry grin. ‘It takes one scoundrel to recognise another. But,’ he added, his smiling fading, ‘I meant what I said about child cruelty. I’m taking Eliza back to her family, and if I hear you’ve been ill-treating that other poor, unfortunate little creature, then I promise you I’ll have the law on you.’

  Trembling and still not fully understanding why she was bleeding and what Mrs Tubbs had meant by her ‘courses’, Eliza was more concerned about Millie than herself. She wrapped her arms around the terrified child. ‘There, there, don’t cry little Millie.’

  ‘Take Eliza then,’ Mrs Tubbs stormed, ‘and you can take that one as well, she’s too weak and puny to be of any use to me. You can leave her at the workhouse door on your way to finding a new lodging. I don’t want the likes of you upsetting my gentlemen clients.’

  ‘And I wouldn’t stay in this filthy hovel one night longer, madam.’ Dr Prince held his hands out to Eliza and Millie. ‘Come, my dears, the sooner we’re out of here, the better.’

  ‘Good riddance, that’s what I say.’ Turning on her heel, Mrs Tubbs stalked out of the kitchen, pausing at the door to shoot a malevolent glance at Maisie. ‘And you, you drunken slut, get cooking them joints or I’ll have your guts for garters.’

  Outside on the pavement, he paused to set his bowler hat at a rakish angle on his head and, having peered at his reflection in the grimy window, he picked up his portmanteau and the case containing his medicines. ‘All right, Eliza. Show me where you live.’

  Eliza looked at him doubtfully. ‘You won’t really leave poor Millie at the workhouse will you, doctor?’

  ‘I can’t see any other course open to me, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Dolly and Ted will look after her,’ Eliza said stoutly. ‘They took me in and treated me like the
ir own. I even think of them as me mum and dad.’ A twinge of pain in her lower back made Eliza grimace and clutch her stomach. She could feel the warm, stickiness between her legs and once again panic seized her.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ cried Millie, clutching her hand. She cast Dr Prince an anguished glance. ‘If you’re a doctor, sir, then you’d best help her.’

  Freddie started walking. ‘This isn’t in my field of expertise. You’ll be fine, Eliza, just lead the way home.’

  Dolly opened the door just far enough to peer outside. ‘Who is it?’ Her voice was tremulous and the tips of her fingers white as she held tightly to the door.

  ‘It’s me, Eliza, I’m not well.’

  The door opened but Dolly’s expression changed subtly as she squinted at Dr Prince. ‘Heavens above, what’s going on?’

  Doffing his hat, he executed a nifty bow. ‘Dr Frederick Prince at your service, ma’am. But my friends call me Freddie, which I much prefer.’

  ‘A doctor!’ Dolly’s eyes opened wide. ‘What’s wrong with Eliza?’

  ‘If I may come in for a moment?’ Freddie put one foot over the threshold.

  ‘I’m really sick,’ Eliza said, unable to prevent her bottom lip from wobbling, although she was trying hard to be brave so as not to frighten Millie.

  ‘A woman’s condition, ma’am,’ Freddie said, dumping his cases on the floor. ‘Not within my powers to advise.’ He tapped the side of his nose, winking.

  ‘Oh! Yes, I understand.’ Dolly put her arm around Eliza’s shoulders. ‘Come into the scullery with me, Eliza. And you, doctor, please take a seat and your little girl too.’

  ‘Not my child,’ Freddie said, clearing his throat. ‘Another matter for discussion between yourself and Eliza.’

  Suddenly businesslike and seemingly forgetting her invalid status, Dolly took Eliza into the scullery and, while she tore an old cotton sheet into strips, she told Eliza that she must expect this situation to occur monthly, although she was a bit vague as to the cause and became flustered when Eliza tried to ask questions.

  ‘We mustn’t keep the good doctor waiting,’ Dolly said, making a pad from the rags with a quick demonstration as to how to fasten it. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you, dear. It’s just one of the torments that we women have to suffer. It will go away in a day or so. You can clean yourself up at the pump and fill the kettle when you’ve done. We must offer our guest a cup of tea. Oh dear, I think my palpitations are returning; perhaps the doctor can give me something for them. Hurry up, dear. Don’t just stand there.’