The Workhouse Children Page 4

  In Tulley’s office, Cara watched as he produced the necessary paper for Charlie’s release, which he waved in the air, and eyed her expectantly. Guessing what he was about, she rummaged in her bag and produced five pounds which she placed on his desk and watched his eyes light up.

  ‘Now then,’ Cara said, ‘I wish to know the address for Daisy Flowers.’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly divulge…’ Tulley began.

  Cara sighed audibly as she cast a glance at Gracie; the cook nodded once. ‘Look Mr Tulley,’ Cara said, ‘I need to find Daisy and I am willing to pay for the information. Now, think on this… once she is in my custody, the people who bought her will need another to replace her. Where will they go? Why, to you of course. So you will have made another sale.’

  Watching her words sink in, Cara then gave Charlie a sly wink. An imperceptible nod from the boy told her he understood what she was about.

  Tulley retrieved another large ledger from a drawer and ran his fat finger down the column. Turning the book in her direction, she saw what she’d been looking for. Gracie and Molly leaned forward to view the address.

  Cara passed over another five pound note and turned to leave. Taking Charlie’s hand, she moved to lead the little group from the building.

  ‘This paperwork needs to be completed before I can release the boy and have his own clothing returned to him. Three hours’ notice has to be given for release,’ Tulley said with a spiteful grin. ‘You can wait outside the gate.’ He waved the paper in his hand towards the door.

  Cara inwardly fumed but held her tongue at being dismissed in such a manner. Turning to the boy, she said, ‘I’ll see you outside, Charlie. I’ll wait for you outside the gate.’ Charlie gave a grin and nodded. Cara strode from the office with her head high.

  The porter saw them coming and held open the huge gate for them to pass through. Marching past him, Cara lifted her chin pushing her nose in the air.

  The porter relocked the gate and disappeared back to his tiny lodge behind the wall.

  Cara looked at Gracie and Molly then gave out a whoop of delight.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Gracie said in astonishment. ‘You’ve got a brother and sister!’

  Cara stopped the little jig she was dancing and stared at Gracie. ‘Oh my goodness, I have!’

  ‘How do you feel about that then?’ Molly asked.

  Gracie butted in with, ‘I think that little dance just now said it all, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh Molly!’ Cara said, wrapping an arm around the shoulder of her friends. ‘This is a wonderful day! How marvellous to know I have other family besides you two lovely ladies!’

  After three and a half hours of stamping around outside the gate in an effort to keep warm, Cara saw Charlie emerge from the building alone.

  As he approached, he shivered as the chill cut through the rags he wore. ‘Miss, where we going?’

  Cara slipped off her coat and wrapped it around the boy as she said, ‘Home, Charlie. We’re going home.’

  Five

  Fred Tulley grinned as he pocketed the money from Cara Flowers. Making his way through the corridors to the dining hall, he knew his wife, Ada, would be thrilled with the extra money. The large room had two rows of refectory tables stretching from end to end with benches either side of each table. The boys were crammed together on the benches as they slurped the thin broth made from overripe vegetables. Glad of something to fill their bellies, they didn’t complain. Not one child looked up as Tulley strode the length of the room towards his wife.

  ‘Mrs Tulley,’ he greeted her.

  ‘Mr Tulley,’ she greeted him back.

  It was their custom to speak to each other in such a manner in an effort to reinforce respect to the children in their care.

  Fred whispered his news and his wife beamed her joy at having a few extra pounds in their savings.

  Ringing the large handbell, they watched as bowls were tipped to lips in an effort to swallow the last dregs of the thin soup. With hardly a sound, the bowls were replaced on the tables and the boys filed out of the room in an orderly fashion to return to their work of oakum picking.

  Tulley nodded to his wife in praise of how well she had trained the youngsters. A moment later a few thin dirty women entered and began to collect the bowls for washing. No one looked at the Tulleys as they worked. Other women brought in more bowls of broth and set them out before leaving the dining hall. The young girls then quietly entered the room and sat on the benches vacated by the boys moments earlier.

  Tulley smiled; the whole place ran like clockwork while he and his wife raked in the money.

  Fred considered himself fortunate as he patrolled the workhouse which was divided up into sections: one for the men, one for the women, one for the boys and the other for the female children. There were rules, which he often ignored, but no one dared to complain.

  Tulley ran over the rulings in his mind as he continued his patrol. No corporal punishment was allowed on any girl. None on any boy, except by the schoolmaster a rule which Fred always ignored. This was to be given by rod, and only then if approved by the Board of Guardians or Visiting Committee. Another rule Fred often flouted, as he thrashed the boys into submission. This caning could only be administered after two hours had elapsed from the time an offence had been committed. Many other rules were listed, but there were few he adhered to.

  Three hours a day should be given over to the teaching of reading, writing and arithmetic; the rest of the day the children spent working. The boys worked oakum picking and the girls worked in the laundry or bakery. Fred didn’t consider the learning of letters and numbers to be important to these children. They would never need to use them anyway.

  Fred knew each dormitory could hold at least twenty five children and more often than not there were two to a bed. The beds were wooden structures with a thin flock mattress. There were no pillows and each child was allocated two blankets. Lost or torn blankets were not replaced. Fred thought they should consider themselves lucky to have what they did.

  Children coming into the workhouse had their hair cropped short in an endeavour to keep head lice to a minimum, before their thin bodies were given a scrub down. Girls were given a long dress, a shift, a poke bonnet and knee-length stockings, plus a pair of hobnailed boots. Boys were given shirts, trousers, under drawers and boots. Such was the uniform of the workhouse, which was worn until it fell apart. Their own clothes were put into storage until such time as the inmate left the workhouse. Tulley smiled to himself; very few left this place, unless by way of a box, or he managed to sell them on as servants.

  The women worked the bake house, cleaned the workrooms and washrooms and did the laundry for the whole building. The men worked in the mortuary or outside breaking stones and crushing bones which were to be used in fertilizer.

  The sadness in the eyes of the people who first came into the workhouse soon turned to a glassy inevitability. Most knew they would die in that place, the only question left to them was… when?

  Fred Tulley congratulated himself as he sat in his office and counted the money again. Yet another job well done. His mind turned to the young woman who had bought out Charlie Flowers. Who was she? Where did she come from? How come she had family in the workhouse? Why had she not come for them sooner? Didn’t she know she didn’t have to pay for their release? Tulley dismissed the silly girl from his thoughts. He didn’t have time to waste on her, he had people coming in later with a view to purchasing a couple of boys as stable lads. Fred rubbed his hands together as he thought of yet more money finding its way into his pocket.

  *

  The three women and the scruffy boy wrapped in a coat which dragged on the floor walked over the patch of scrubland. Charlie asked, ‘Miss… how come you bought me out of the “Spike”?’

  Cara said gently, ‘It is my belief we are family, Charlie. I think I am your big sister.’

  ‘What?’ Charlie stopped walking, an astonished look on his face.

 
‘I’ll explain everything to you when we get home. Come on, it’s not too far now.’ Cara gave him a reassuring smile.

  They walked on past the allotment gardens and over more heathland until they reached Proud’s Lane. At the end of the street, Cara stopped. Digging into her drawstring bag, she pulled out her purse.

  ‘Molly, would you be good enough to go into town and buy Charlie some new clothes?’ She handed over some money.

  ‘You’re twelve right Charlie?’ Molly asked. At his nod she went on. ‘Right, it’s young man’s clothes for you then, none of this kiddie tat, eh?’

  Charlie beamed and Cara and Gracie shared a knowing smile.

  Molly gave the boy a wink then walked quickly down the street. Cara, Charlie and Gracie carried on into the driveway of ‘The Laburnums.’

  Charlie whistled through his teeth as he walked up the gravel driveway and looked up at the large house. ‘Blimey! Do you live here, Miss?’

  ‘Yes, Charlie, we all do… and now you do too.’ Cara smiled down at the boy, who stared with his mouth hanging open.

  Gracie went directly to the kitchen to set the kettle to boil. Lifting down a tin bath hung on the scullery wall, she then set large pans of water to heat on the range. The lad was to have a bath, whether he liked it or not! Going to the cupboard in the hall, she took out two large fluffy towels and set them on a chair by the tin bath. A chunk of soap was placed on the top.

  Setting the tea tray, Gracie went to the larder for bread, butter, cheese and cake. Charlie Flowers needed feeding up but slowly and carefully. He’d probably only eaten slop in a long while, so Gracie took it upon herself to give the boy good nourishing food, but this would do as a start.

  Meanwhile in the parlour, Cara was dismayed when she looked into the grate. ‘Oh no, the fire has gone out,’ she said.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Charlie said, ‘I’ll do it.’ The coat lent to him was removed and draped over a chair. He snatched up the poker and raked it over the fire bed. Loose ash fell through the grating and he grabbed a sheet of newspaper from the table, screwing it up loosely. Taking the kindling sticks kept in the grate, he laid them in a flat wigwam over the paper. Rifling through the coal scuttle, he found some small nuggets of coal which he sat carefully on the sticks. Looking around, he found matches on the mantelshelf and another sheet of newspaper on the table.

  Cara watched as he held the struck match to one side of the paper then once it had caught he moved it to the other side. Satisfied, he then held the sheet of newspaper across the front of the fireplace. Hearing the air pull the flames up the chimney, he nodded and removed the newspaper which had begun to turn brown. The coal chips were glowing red now and Charlie carefully added more coal nuggets. Then, wiping his hands on his trousers, he stood back to admire his handiwork.

  ‘Well done!’ Cara said.

  ‘Oh it weren’t nothing,’ the boy answered, ‘but give it a minute and you’ll have a blaze fit to rival a furnace.’

  They smiled at each other as Gracie brought in the tea tray and a dish towel which she laid on a chair for Charlie to sit on. The boy’s eyes widened and his mouth watered as he watched bread being thickly smothered in butter and a chunk of cheese placed beside it. Taking the plate offered to him, he said, ‘Oooh ta!’

  Gracie replied, ‘You’re welcome. Now… don’t bolt it, else you’ll be bad.’

  Nodding, Charlie bit into the bread and butter and closed his eyes savouring the flavour. He’d never tasted butter before, he had only ever had a thin coating of margarine on day-old hard bread.

  Cara and Gracie smiled at each other as Molly came in loaded down with parcels. ‘Oh tea! Just what I need. Right, I got trousers, shirts, underwear, socks, jumpers, cap and a jacket. Boots will have to wait, he’ll need to try them on for a good fit. Oh and I got pyjamas too.’

  Charlie looked from one to another as he quietly ate his bread and butter and cheese before his eyes rested on the cake.

  After tea, Gracie said, ‘Right, my lad, you come to the scullery with me.’ Seeing his eyes lower, she went on, ‘Oh lad, you ain’t going in there to work… you’m to have a bath.’

  ‘I ain’t!’ Charlie rounded on the cook. ‘Last time I had a bath I nearly drowned in the cold water!’

  The three women shared a smile and Gracie said, ‘You can’t drown in a tin bath, it ain’t big enough! Besides, I’ve warmed the water for you, so you stir your stumps right now!’

  Still unsure, Charlie reluctantly followed the cook to the scullery. He watched as she filled the tub halfway with water.

  Testing the temperature with an elbow, she nodded. ‘Right. Get them rags off and put yer arse in that water.’ Gracie pointed to the bath. Seeing his horrified look, she rolled her eyes and turned her back while he stripped down and climbed into the water. ‘There’s soap there, use it well… otherwise I will,’ she said over her shoulder.

  Gracie scooped up his old clothes and shoved them into the fire in the range. Leaving the scullery door open a little way, she set about the task of preparing their evening meal.

  Molly and Cara tiptoed into the kitchen and heard Charlie splashing about in the bath. When the noise of the water abated they heard him humming a little tune.

  The three women smiled as they listened. They had found and rescued Cara’s brother.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, Cara thought the first part of her challenge had been completed. She was pleased with her accomplishment, then Cara realized she had made herself responsible for the young brother she never knew existed until that day. It felt very strange to have a brother and she thought the boy must be feeling the same. She had never imagined having siblings but a loving warmth filled her as the joy of it overcame her. Still a teenager herself, she had not considered having to take care of a child until she was married and had a family of her own. Nevertheless, she had found Charlie and would do her utmost to make him feel part of the family. She felt again the ache in her heart as she thought how proud her grandmother would have been. Now though, she had to find Daisy. Would that complete their family or could there be others? Then of course there was the possible discovery of her parents. Cara’s mind reeled with unanswered questions as she listened to her brother singing softly as he splashed about again in the tin bath.

  Six

  After their evening meal of faggots, grey peas and potatoes, Cara began to explain the events of the last few months. Charlie listened as Cara said, ‘Our grandmother, Henrietta Selby, wanted me to find any remaining family and take care of them. Gracie and Molly, are helping me.’

  Charlie nodded to each before returning his eyes to Cara.

  ‘It was Martin Lander, the solicitor, who suggested we look in the workhouse in the first instance,’ Cara added.

  ‘So how come we didn’t know about you?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Cara answered truthfully, ‘but until today, I didn’t know about you and Daisy either. That’s why I asked you about your parents’ names, I needed to be sure they were the same as mine. That proves we are family, don’t you think?’ Cara’s mounting excitement was infectious.

  Charlie nodded with a big grin on his face. ‘Our Daisy will be over the moon when she hears we have a big sister!’ Then a forlorn look crossed his face as he thought about his younger sibling and where she might be.

  ‘Charlie, may I ask you some more questions?’ At his nod, Cara went on, ‘How did you and Daisy come to be in the workhouse?’

  A sadness began to cloud his eyes as he spoke. ‘Me dad was a carter an’ he travelled all over the place. He never brought me mum any money – he spent it on beer before he got home.’ A disgusted look crossed his face. ‘Mum struggled to feed us, so I used to scavenge in the market. Daisy would have to coal pick on the slag heaps. Then one day me father came home drunk as a lord. Oh God, he battered our mum senseless! I couldn’t stop him! I was only seven at the time. Our Daisy was five and scared witless.’ Tears streamed from his eyes at the memory. ‘Mum… mum had to
ld us to stay upstairs, but we didn’t.’ He wiped his nose on the back of his hand before taking a deep breath to continue. ‘We crept down to the kitchen and stood in the doorway. Daisy was bawling her eyes out as…’ His speech stalled as he tried desperately to keep his sobs in check. ‘…dad kept hitting our mum! Sometimes I can still hear her screams!’ Charlie’s shoulders heaved as he finally gave way to his tears. After a moment he finally dragged his emotions in check and said, ‘The next day dad sent us kids scavenging like nothing had happened!’

  ‘Oh lad!’ Gracie said, wiping away her tears.

  Charlie had more to say. ‘Well, when we got back from the market, the house was empty – they’d gone, both of them.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Gracie said. ‘They up and left you kids on your own?’

  Cara’s heart tightened at the thought of the children being abandoned so easily. This poor child had been left to take care of his younger sister and Cara felt a sob in her throat. How could parents do such things? How could her parents have done this terrible thing? More to the point, why had they done it?

  Charlie nodded, shaking loose yet more tears from his eyes, then said, ‘I don’t think mum would have left us, but I suspect she had no choice.’

  ‘Why is that, sweetheart?’ Cara asked.

  The endearment brought a quick smile to the boy’s lips. ‘Cos our dad was a bully! He probably would have killed her if she had refused him!’ Tears welled up in his blue eyes.

  ‘Don’t distress yourself, mate,’ Molly put in, ‘I’m sure you would have pasted him good and proper had you been able.’

  ‘I would an’ all!’ Charlie spat. ‘It’s our Daisy I worry about, she’s eleven… she’s just a kid!’

  Cara smiled inwardly. At only twelve himself he was hardly a man yet. ‘Well don’t you worry, we’ll find Daisy.’

  ‘How, Miss?’ Charlie choked on his tears, desperately trying to hold them back.

  ‘Cara, my name is Cara. You don’t have to call me “Miss” because I’m your sister. I know it might feel awkward, but we have to get used to the idea we are family. As for Daisy… well, we have the address she went to, so I think we should visit.’