The Rag Nymph (aka The Forester Girl) Read online

  ‘Odd, when you come to think of it’—he handed her a full wineglass of gin—‘but they say he’s like he is because his father and mother were religious. When he was a lad they used to tie him up in the cellar, starve him for days and read the Bible to him as food for his soul. So since his old fella died and he couldn’t take it out on him, he’s taken it out on his young missis and the young ’uns.’

  He again sat down on the settle opposite her, and sipped a glass of beer before saying thoughtfully, ‘Funny, when you come to think about it, but it’s what happens when you’re a bairn that sets the pattern for a man or woman, in most cases anyway.’ Then looking up towards the ceiling, he added, ‘I wonder what she’ll turn out to be like, that young ’un?’

  ‘Well, there’s one thing that seems sure to me: she’s not goin’ to have it as easy as she’s had it up till now, by the sound of her.’

  ‘What d’you think’ll happen to her if her mother goes along the line?’

  ‘It’ll be the workhouse, where else? But then, from what I hear, that’s overrun with bairns; they’ve stopped gathering them in from the streets. So, likely, they’ll farm her out to somebody and she’ll be put to work, probably as a runner in one of the mills.’

  ‘That’ll be a pity. I wouldn’t like to see that happen to her.’ He looked down into his glass and in a much lower voice now he said, ‘Annie was put into the mill when she was seven, the same age as that young ’un.’ Again his head jerked towards the ceiling. ‘She did a twelve-hour day, sometimes fourteen. They say things are better for the bairns now since they brought the hours down to ten, but some of the pigs get over that. Before, they used to count their breaks in the twelve hours, now their breaks are in their own time. It’s against the law, but they get off with it. Annie never knew what it was to have a pair of boots on her feet until she was ten.’

  ‘Oh, my God! D’you want me to cry over her? Anyway, she’s had almost twenty years since that to get her feet warm.’

  ‘There’s two sides to you, you know, Aggie, and one’s unfair and as bitter as gall.’

  As he rose from the settle and put his glass down none too gently on the table, she said, ‘Aye. Well, now go on and tell me me good side.’

  ‘I doubt if you’ve got one.’

  For a moment, she said nothing, but sat watching him pour out a mug of beer; then she said bitterly, ‘You’re an ungrateful devil. You know that?’

  He put the can back on the table, placing his free hand across the top of it for a moment; then he took the mug over to the couch and, handing it to her, said, ‘You know that isn’t true. The fact that I’m here at this minute proves it.’

  She sipped at the froth, then sat looking towards the fire. But when he went to take his seat again on the settle, she said, ‘There’s no need for you to hang about; get yourself away. But lock the gate and take the key with you, and don’t make a rattle when you come back. And tomorrow you could put a drop of oil on that loft door, and the stable one an’ all; they screech like barn owls.’

  He grinned at her. ‘Barn owls?’ he said; ‘Well, they might be an’ all as we only close them at night. Barn owls…You’ll be all right?’

  ‘Have you ever known me to be anything else?’

  ‘Aw!’ He shook his head with impatience. ‘Nobody can be kind to you, can they, Aggie? You won’t take kindness, will you? You get worse, you know that? More sour.’ He turned now and went hastily from the room, and she repeated to herself, ‘You get worse, you know that? More sour…’

  The twilight was fading fast when she entered the bedroom but she could see that the child was still sitting bolt upright in the bed.

  ‘You should be asleep.’

  ‘I…I was waiting for you. It…it was getting dark.’

  ‘It’s a long time off dark. Lie down now.’

  The child lay down; then she watched the big fat woman undress herself, noticing particularly that she did not wear corsets like her mama, but that she wore a habit shirt, and one bodice petticoat and two waist petticoats. Her shift, too, was white, but it was sticking to her body here and there with sweat. She watched Aggie ease it off her flesh, then take a nightdress from a drawer and pull it over her head, and lastly, sit on the side of the bed and draw off her stockings.

  When Aggie climbed into bed, such was her weight that the child rolled towards her, and her head seemed to fall naturally between her breasts, and when the small face peered up at her and the small whisper said, ‘You’re very big,’ Aggie said, ‘Aye, I’m very big. An’ you’re very small; an’ you have too much to say, so go to sleep.’

  As the head snuggled into her and the thin arm came round her waist, Aggie drew in a long tight breath; then when her own arm automatically went around the child, she closed her eyes tightly, because for the first time in her life she was feeling flesh close to her own.

  Two

  It was eight o’clock the following morning when Ben came back from the town. Aggie was dressed for the day: her hands and face looked clean, her hair had been combed; she was wearing a clean blue-striped blouse. She had just finished her breakfast of dripping and bread and a piece of cold bacon when Ben came into the room. She said immediately, ‘Well?’

  ‘She’ll be up at ten o’clock before the Justice.’

  ‘Did you find out anything more? Who did you talk to?’

  ‘Well, would I talk to anybody else but your dear Constable Fenwick?’

  ‘Well, what did my dear Constable Fenwick say?’

  ‘He said she’s among the others. There’s nine of ’em. But he has no details of her because he didn’t bring her in, he said…which was kind of him.’ He now pulled a face at Aggie and went on, ‘He said he thought she was new to the job.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Aye, except he pointed out that if she was new to the job and she tried to muzzle in around that quarter, the others would soon make short shrift of her. Remember the other month, it was in the papers, wasn’t it? About them tearing the clothes off that one who tried to queer their pitch? If I remember, that was on a Saturday night when the gents came down for their pickings. Anyway, I’ve been thinkin’ about her. She’s not up to much, is she, if she takes a bairn like that ’un with her when she’s on the make?’

  ‘Well, likely it was the lesser of two evils. She would have had to leave her alone in the house, and Nelson Close isn’t in the suburbs, is it?’

  ‘Is she still asleep?’

  ‘She was when I left her.’

  He sat down at the table now, and she pushed the bread board and the dripping towards him, saying, ‘Want a piece of bacon?’

  ‘No; I don’t feel like it this mornin’.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. You didn’t get back into the loft until one o’clock, did you?’

  ‘Timing me now, are you?’

  ‘No, but I did wonder why you don’t move your bed along there. Dear Annie’ll make room for you.’

  ‘Yes, I could. I’ve thought about it, an’ all.’ They stared at each other; then, his tone changing, he said, ‘What’s goin’ to happen to the young ’un if the mother goes along the line?’

  ‘Well, we went into this last night, didn’t we? All I’m concerned with is handin’ her over to her rightful parent or whoever’s goin’ to take responsibility for her.’

  ‘You’re goin’ down there?’

  ‘I’m goin’ down there to the court? Aye, I am.’

  ‘Well, well, well. You mean to get rid of her, don’t you?’

  She now placed her large square hands on the table and leant towards him, and her voice was low and hard as she said, ‘Well, what’s the choice? Can you see me keepin’ her here? Look around you, look at the refinements I’ve got to offer.’

  He didn’t answer her for a moment; when he did, it was quietly. ‘She could do worse, a hell of a lot worse. I can speak for that, can’t I, Aggie?’

  She straightened up now and bawled across at him, ‘You were a lad; now you’re a y
oung man. She’s just a chit, and a knowin’ one at that, who’s been brought up in a different atmosphere. It mightn’t have been the class but there’s been some schoolin’ there an’ some refinement. Can you see her fittin’ into this? Aw!’ She shrugged. ‘You’re soft in the head. You know that? It’s them books you’re readin’. Mr Dickens is gettin’ at you. Help the poor. My God! What does he know about it? The only thing I feel about Mr Dickens is he’s makin’ his money out of exposing misery.’

  ‘Aye; well’—he got onto his feet now—‘it takes somebody to expose it. God Almighty! There’s plenty of it, and nobody’s bothered much with it except here and there. They keep their distance; the smell of the poor’s enough for them. Mr Dickens is doin’ some good.’

  ‘Well, he’s certainly got a supporter in you. But while we’re on, I’ll tell you this; you’ll go blind readin’ that small print.’

  ‘Oh Aggie, shut up!’ He had turned and was starting to walk towards the door when he received a full blast from her as she yelled, ‘Don’t you tell me to shut up, you young prig, else you’ll find the door locked on you. Aye, you will. I’m not as soft as all that. It’s come to something, hasn’t it, when I can’t speak in me own house now.’ She addressed the fire, saying, ‘What’s come over him anyway? He’s never stood up to me before. All through that ’un.’

  She started as the voice of ‘that ’un’ said, ‘Good morning. I found my own way down. There was no water to wash. There was a basin and a jug in the room but no water. And I’ve managed to do up two of the buttons at the back, but I can’t reach the top two. Would you, please?’ As the child turned her back to her, Aggie bent down and buttoned the top of the dress; then she said, ‘You hungry?’

  ‘Not very; but I would like a drink, please. And may I get washed? I should have washed before I put my dress on, you know. But when I see Mama and I tell her, she won’t mind.’

  Aggie looked down on the child. She said she was seven. As Ben had pointed out last night, his Annie was scurrying between the looms when she was seven, and barefoot. This one had certainly had it soft. And God help her! Whichever way her life was goin’ she would never have it soft again, not as she saw it at this present moment.

  ‘There’s a pump round the back of the house. Go on out there; Ben’ll show you where it is. Ask him to put some water in a bowl, and you can bring it into the scullery. There’s soap and a towel there.’

  Millie looked at Aggie for a moment before saying quietly, ‘Thank you.’ Then, as if forced to say something polite, she said, ‘I slept very well. It was a nice bed. Thank you,’ and turning about, she went out, not running like a child but walking sedately.

  A few minutes later she returned with Ben, who was carrying a tin bowl of water. The child was smiling and she looked up at Aggie, saying, ‘The pump was funny. It talked the water out; it went gurgle, gurgle, gurgle.’ And Ben raised his eyebrows as Aggie looked at him.

  When he returned to the room, having left the child in the kitchen, Aggie was pouring some milk into a mug, and she said to him, ‘Look at that! You can see through it. That churn’s stood out in the rain for a long time. By! I’ll see that bugger tomorrow mornin’ if I have to get up at five, an’ I’ll tell him what I’ve meant to do for a long time; I’ll take the can along to the authorities. By God, I will! That cow would have kicked the pail out of the byre in shame if it had squirted anything out like that.’

  ‘Oh, Aggie!’ His smile was wide. Then changing the subject completely from milk and children to the necessity for a clean yard, he said, ‘I know where I can get some broken slabs. I’ll only have to pay him a dollar and the cartage, and there’ll be enough to cover the rest of the yard. When it’s wet it’s a mire out there. How about it?’

  ‘Oh, well, yes, if you’re afraid to get your feet muddy. Yes, of course, sir. But a dollar, no more. How many loads would it be?’

  ‘Oh’—he shrugged his broad shoulders—‘two, three. It’s heavy stuff, even for a horse. It could be done in half a day; I mean, the cartage.’

  ‘Well—’ She went to the fire and ground the kettle on top of the glowing tins, then added, ‘As you’re takin’ over, you’d better see to it.’

  ‘That’ll be the day when you allow anybody to take over. Anyway, Aggie—’ He sidled close to her and looked into her face, saying, ‘That little ’un’s got under me skin. If her mother has to do the month, keep her here till she comes out. Will you?’

  She jerked herself away from him. ‘Not on your life, lad,’ she said. ‘Not on your life.’ Then in a lowered voice, she added, ‘What would I do with her in here all day? And when I’m out, take her with me? Her lookin’ like that! Then look at this place. What is it like? A hovel.’

  ‘Well,’ he hissed back at her, ‘it needn’t look like a hovel, if you’d get off your big fat arse at times and do a bit of scrubbin’.’

  Her hand shot out and caught him fully on the side of the face, causing him to wince. Rubbing his cheek, he said, ‘It’s years since you did that. It struck home that, didn’t it? ’Cos it was the truth. You’re always talking of speaking the truth yourself, aren’t you, Aggie, but you can never face up to hearin’ it. We’ll forget about this now but I’m warnin’ you, Aggie, never raise your hand to me again. Never! ’Cos I would die of shame if I retaliated and hit back; and I would, because I’ve levelled men almost as big as you before today, and you know it.’

  ‘Is this milk for me?’

  They both turned to look at the child. She was pointing to the mug. But Aggie’s anger rendering her unable to speak, Ben said, ‘Aye, me dear. Drink it up.’ And going to the table, he asked, ‘Would you like some bread an’ drippin’?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘And there’s some bacon there.’ He pointed to the plate on which were some slices of cold streaky bacon.

  She reached over to look at the bacon before saying, ‘No; thank you. I’m not very fond of fat.’

  Making a sound in his throat, he turned his head away, then said, ‘Funny thing, but neither am I; yet I’ve had to get used to it;’ and on this he went out, leaving Millie looking at the big fat woman and feeling she must make conversation. ‘It’s a beautiful morning,’ she said. ‘You have a lot of clothes in the next room. And why are all those heaps of things in the yard? Is it a kind of shop?’

  Oh no; she couldn’t put up with that, not at this moment; and so, saying, ‘Stop your jabber and get on with your breakfast. Then stay put until I come down,’ Aggie walked to the door leading to the hall.

  In the hall, she stopped and looked about her. ‘It needn’t look like a hovel,’ he had said, ‘if you’d get off your big fat arse at times and do a bit of scrubbin’.’ She had worked like nobody else for years, right from when she was ten, and before that, hard manual labour. But during these last few years she had felt tired, weary. It was as much as she could do to push the handcart and to carry her body around with her. It was too big, too cumbersome. If she could only stop eating. But why should she? Aye, why should she?

  Not one of these questions had hit her before. It was since that child had come into the house last night. Was it only last night? My God! It seemed that she had been here years, and already she had driven a wedge between her and Ben. And Ben was all she had for companionship; those who would have been her so-called friends she wouldn’t let over her step, and those she would have liked to call friends wouldn’t come near her step. No; she had only Ben, and she had struck him.

  She must get rid of that child.

  She stood at the back of the dingy room, the child close by her side, and she listened to the clerk calling out the offences—soliciting was a common phrase, but once he said ‘Procuring of men’—and she noticed that the Justice hardly raised his head: ‘One pound or one month. One pound or one month. One pound or one month.’ He had seen them all before. They mightn’t have a pound between them but he knew it would be paid. Big Joe would see to that, or one of his cronies. But he raised his eyes and the
n his head when the last one stood before him. He hadn’t seen her before.

  ‘Soliciting…she was known to have men at her house and was seen to stop them in the street. Constables Walton and Makepeace apprehended her.’ Et cetera, the et cetera going on to explain that she had been taken to the hospital and there examined by Doctor Bright in the presence of Constable Makepeace.

  What Aggie didn’t know about the ways of loose women, prostitutes and pimps wasn’t worth learning, but it was a business and she believed that everybody should mind their own business. Only one thing she drew the line at and that was when the prostitution took up bairns. She couldn’t stand that.

  Until now her knowledge had come from conversation and confidences and such; she had never before been in a morning court and listened to the proceedings.

  From this distance, and her being among the other women, the child had not recognised her mother, but when the sentence was passed, ‘One pound or one month’, and the woman turned about and the child saw her face, a cry escaped her, and she was about to spring forward when Aggie pulled her tight against her leg and, bending down, hissed at her, ‘Quiet! Be quiet!’ only for the child to hiss back, ‘That is Mama. What is going to happen to…?’

  ‘Shut up! Shut up!’

  Gripping the child’s arm, Aggie pulled her from the room and through into a hall and there she stood waiting, for she guessed that the women lined up like felons against the wall would now be led out to pay their fines at the desk in the corner, or be taken through the door back to the cells. She was not surprised that most of them were laughing and giggling.

  Two men were standing near the main door. One was a big man with a bullet head and a short neck, with shoulders almost as broad as Ben’s; but he had height with it, being all of six feet tall, which in itself made him different from most other men, for it was only here and there you would see his like. His companion was a head shorter and he was thin; but a reader of character would have stamped him the more evil of the two.