Chapter Four
The beating that Cassy had received at Biddy’s hands left her bruised and bleeding. Her calico blouse was ripped to shreds and the babies, who had been awakened by her screams of pain, were bawling their heads off, which further infuriated an already maddened Biddy. She tossed the cane across the room, snatched up the bag of coins that Mahdu had left to pay for Cassy’s keep, and stamped out of the house slamming the door so hard that the windows rattled.
Despite her pain, Cassy’s first instinct was to calm the terrified infants, but when they had settled down to sleep she found that she was shaking uncontrollably, and she finally gave way to tears. She collapsed onto a chair at the table, burying her face in her hands, and it was in this state that Bailey found her. He ministered to her injuries as tenderly as any woman, listening attentively to her tearful account of what had occurred earlier. He said little but she sensed that he was inwardly seething with rage.
‘This can’t go on,’ he said as he finished bathing her wounds. ‘It’s happened afore, and I’m afraid she’ll kill you if she ain’t stopped.’
‘Don’t do nothing stupid, Bailey,’ Cassy pleaded. ‘You’ll only make things worse.’ She reached for the tattered blouse which he had peeled carefully from her raw flesh, but it was beyond repair and stiff with dried blood.
Bailey took it from her hand. ‘You can’t wear that, it’s ruined.’ He went to the corner of the room where his palliasse was rolled up against the wall and pulled out a bundle of clothes. He selected a shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘There, that’s me only good ’un. Your need is greater than mine, nipper.’
She slipped her arms into the garment which was far too big for her and the coarse material chafed against her sore back, but she managed a smile. ‘Ta, Bailey, you’re a toff. But now you ain’t got a spare.’
‘It don’t matter,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I’ll take some of the old bitch’s money and get us both new duds at the Rag Fair, but until then you’re going to have to look like a scarecrow.’
This made her giggle despite her pain and then she remembered Freddie. Her bottom lip quivered. ‘Where’s me boy? What happened at the hospital?’
‘Don’t upset yourself again; he’s in good hands. They took him in and put him on the children’s ward where he’ll be looked after proper.’
‘He will get better, won’t he, Bailey?’
He looked away as if afraid to meet her anxious gaze. ‘I dunno, ducks.’ He moved swiftly to the range and poked the embers into life. ‘I’ll make us a pot of tea. That’ll be the ticket.’
Cassy wiped her eyes on the dangling shirtsleeve which was twice as long as her small arm. Her back felt as though it was on fire and every inch of her body ached, but she was still concerned for the babies left in her care. She went to check on them again, but Anna, Samuel and the twins lay asleep in their boxes, pale and silent like small wax effigies. She had to bend close to make certain they were still breathing. Despite all Cassy’s best efforts, only the strong survived Biddy’s regime of cruel neglect, but thankfully these little lives had been spared for another day.
‘Come and get your tea, Cass,’ Bailey said in a stage whisper.
She joined him at the table where to her delight she discovered that he had bought a pork pie for their supper. ‘How did you afford it?’ she murmured, licking her lips in anticipation of such a treat.
‘Never you mind,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose. ‘Eat up and enjoy it. I don’t want to see a crumb left or the old besom will know I’ve fiddled her out of tuppence, that is if she ever sobers up long enough to count her change.’
Cassy munched the pie, savouring each mouthful and making it last as long as she could. Good food was a rarity in Three Herring Court and their diet consisted mostly of bread and scrape, with the occasional smear of dripping if Biddy was feeling generous, or if Bailey managed to smuggle extra rations into the house. Having demolished the last crumb of pastry and licked her fingers one by one, Cassy sipped her tea, eyeing him curiously over the rim of the tin cup. ‘Why do you stay here, Bailey? You could get a proper job and have a decent life away from this place.’
He scrunched up the piece of newspaper that had been wrapped around the pie and tossed it onto the fire. ‘I remember the day that Indian woman brought you here. The fog was so thick you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, let alone where you was stepping, and she almost tripped over me. She was looking for Biddy and I led her here, although God help me I don’t think I done you any great service. In fact if I’d known what you was going to suffer all these years I’d have run away and left her to take you back home, wherever that was.’
‘But I’d never have known you,’ Cassy said, smiling despite her pain. ‘And you’re me bestest friend in the whole world.’
He reached across the table to pat her hand, but his eyes were bleak. ‘You might not think that when I tell you me news, Cass.’
He did not seem to be able to look her in the eyes, and suddenly Cassy was afraid. ‘You’ve found work somewhere and you’re going to leave me here with her.’
‘I got to go, Cass. I’m seventeen and I want to make me way in the world. If I can earn good money I’ll make a home for you and me. I’ll come back for you, I promise.’
A wail of despair rose in Cassy’s throat and she struggled to contain it, clenching her teeth and hands in an attempt to prevent the scream from escaping her lips.
‘Don’t take on, little ’un. It ain’t settled yet; I only met the recruiting sergeant today. He were looking for blokes like me, he said, and he made life in the army sound just the job. When I got enough money together I’ll rent a house and you can keep it for me. We might even be able to take young Freddie with us.’
A glimmer of hope punctured the black cloud that had descended upon Cassy. ‘And Sammy too, and Anna and the twins?’
‘Hold on, nipper. I ain’t starting up in competition to old Biddy. I said maybe we could take Freddie, but that’s just supposing everything goes well. What do you say, Cassy? Should I enlist in the army? It would mean I’d have to leave you for a while, but it wouldn’t be forever, and we can’t go on like this.’
Forever was a word that held little meaning for Cassy. She lived minute by minute, never knowing when the next blow was going to fall or where the next meal was going to come from. For a few brief moments she had dared to hope that her ma would take her away from this place, but Biddy had sent Mahdu off with a flea in her ear and Cassy’s dream of being permanently reunited with her mother had disappeared like a puff of smoke from Biddy’s clay pipe. Now she was in imminent danger of losing the one person who meant everything to her. She knew what he said made sense, but that did nothing to ease the agony of fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She said nothing, staring at Bailey as if she had been struck dumb. His face creased into lines of worry. ‘Say something, Cassy. Tell me you understand.’
She shook her head and the tears that she had been struggling to hold back spilled from her eyes in an unstoppable bout of sobbing that wracked her small body. Bailey leapt to his feet and moved swiftly to her side, rocking her in his arms. ‘Don’t cry, nipper. Nothing’s settled yet.’
‘D-don’t leave m-me. I’ll d-die if you goes away.’ Cassy had tried to be grown-up and brave, but the fear of living without Bailey was too great to bear. ‘S-stay with me, p-please.’
He stroked her hair back from her forehead. ‘Yes, yes, little ’un. Don’t fret, I’ll not desert you. The army can wait a bit. I daresay they can manage without Bailey Moon for another year or maybe two.’
Cassy rose from her palliasse early next morning. She had slept on her stomach to avoid hurting her back but the pain had awakened her several times in the night. She had lain petrified in the small hours when she had heard Biddy come crashing into the house, stumbling drunkenly into a chair and knocking it over. The babies had stirred in their sleep and Cassy had held her breath, praying that they would not cry. She knew only too well what Biddy was capable of when roused to a rage fuelled by drink. Cassy had once witnessed a horrific episode when a crying infant had been smashed against the wall by a drunken Biddy, who apparently remembered nothing when she sobered up next day. The baby had died, but if Elias Crabbe had suspected foul play he had said nothing, and the tiny corpse had been interred with a stranger. Cassy had lain there, stiff and silent, until Biddy had collapsed onto her iron bedstead and succumbed to the combined effects of alcohol and opium.
The babies began to whimper, but when Cassy went to the larder to fetch the milk she found that it had turned sour and she would have to go to the dairy for a fresh supply. She did not want the infants to wake Biddy, and to keep them pacified if only for a short while she dissolved a spoonful of sugar in tepid water from the kettle. The air in the room was rank with the smell of sweat and stale alcohol, and Cassy felt her stomach heave as she crept past Biddy’s bed. She paused as she saw a trail of vomit that had spewed from Biddy’s mouth and pooled on the floor. There was something unnatural about Biddy’s prostrate form. A cockroach crawled out of her open mouth and Cassy dropped the cup with a cry of horror.
‘What’s up?’ Bailey raised himself on his elbow, gazing blearily around the room. ‘What’s wrong, Cass?’
She could not speak, only point. He leapt out of bed and hurried to her side. ‘Oh, my God!’ He leaned over to feel for the pulse in Biddy’s fat neck. ‘She’s dead. Choked on her own vomit by the looks of things.’ He pulled the filthy scrap of sheeting up to cover her head. ‘She won’t ever hurt you again, Cass. She’s gone for good.’
The room began to spin around Cassy and she felt herself falling into a dark pit, but then she opened her eyes and found herself sitting on a chair and bent double so that her head was between her knees.
‘Sorry, ducks,’ Bailey said, helping her to sit upright. ‘I couldn’t lie you down because of your poor back.’ He held a cup of water to her lips. ‘Take small sips and you’ll feel better in a moment.’
‘Sh-she’s really dead?’
‘As a doornail. I’ll go for the doctor if you’re feeling well enough to be left. The nippers are all yelling their heads off so I’ll get some milk first, if you can cope with them.’
The dizziness was passing and the water, although stale and tepid, was refreshing. ‘It’s what I do every day. Biddy never touches them unless it’s to slap their poor little bums and legs.’
‘Well she won’t do that no more,’ Bailey said wryly. ‘She’s gone straight to hell or there’s no justice in the other world.’ He ruffled Cassy’s hair. ‘Sit tight, little ’un. We’ll sort things out, so don’t fret.’
‘But what will we do? How will we manage?’ Cassy stared at him helplessly. Biddy might have been a monster but she had ruled their lives so completely that the thought of being without her was alarming.
‘Before I do anything else I’m going to see if she had any of your ma’s money left. I can’t believe she could have spent it all in one night.’ He went over to the bed and felt around beneath the sheet, turning his head away and screwing up his face as his hands searched for the purse. He uttered a sigh of relief as he found it, but his face fell as he examined its contents. ‘There’s enough to pay the doctor and bury the old besom,’ he said grimly. ‘She must have gambled the rest. I’m sorry, nipper, because it was your money.’
‘I don’t care,’ Cassy murmured, turning her head away from the gruesome sight on the bed. ‘Just get the milk, please, Bailey. The babies don’t care whether she’s alive or dead, they just want feeding.’
‘There’s enough for milk and fresh bread too. She can have a pauper’s funeral but we’ll have a proper breakfast for once.’
The doctor came, and after a cursory examination he exhibited no surprise at Biddy’s sudden demise. He signed a death certificate and advised Bailey to make arrangements with Elias Crabbe. He left holding a clean white handkerchief to his nose.
‘I’ll get her moved as soon as possible,’ Bailey said, patting Cassy on the shoulder. ‘We’ll be all right, nipper. We’ll find the rent money somehow, even if I have to go begging on the streets.’
Cassy gulped and nodded. They might be free of Biddy but she had a feeling that the nightmare was far from over.
Biddy’s remains had been carted off to the funeral parlour with the help of Eddie, the rag and bone man who lived at the far end of the court, and his son Bob, who was a bit simple but what he lacked in brains he made up for in brawn. Bailey had bought them a pint or two in the pub by way of thanks, and he arrived back at the house in time to share a pie and mash supper with Cassy.
‘We’re living like kings,’ she said happily. The babies were well fed for once, and clean. Cassy had been able to boil as much water as she pleased without having Biddy grumbling about the cost of the coal or telling her that too much washing was dangerous, particularly in winter. But Cassy instinctively knew that babies should be bathed at least once a day, and that their rags ought to be changed regularly to prevent the rash that tormented their tender skins. Bailey had fetched a large bag of coal from the merchants in Cripplegate, and an ample supplying of kindling. There were candles burning on the mantelshelf and on the table, and they were fragrant beeswax as opposed to the cheaper and smellier tallow. The floor had been swept and scrubbed and Cassy had consigned Biddy’s urine-soaked mattress to the dust heap. Their surroundings might not have improved greatly in so short a time, but the room was clean and tidy and the worst of the smells had been eradicated.