Authors: Paula Marie Kenny
‘It is time to go.’ Said Lou quietly.
‘GO ON, GET OUT, GET OUT YOU FILTHY WHORES!’ Bellowed Betsy. They turned and left, irritating Betsy further by slamming the doors.
Betsy’s hand shook as she poured herself another glass of gin. She sat down to settle her rattled nerves. She was both angry and upset as she stared at the fireplace, she couldn’t understand why the girls had left her. ‘Ungrateful bitches.’ Thought Betsy as she festered. A myriad of negative thoughts were racing though her mind. She would find plenty to replace them, but young ones were becoming harder to procure.
‘I’ll have a sniff around Circus Street tomorrow, see if I can get hold of that Rachel one.’
Even Betsy thought that taking in Ruby at only eleven would be pushing her luck too far. ‘Besides, one on her own is much easier to control.’ Thought Betsy wickedly.
The following day Sally Walsh gave Jim a hearty breakfast. She gazed at the lad whilst he was eating and noticed that he needed building up. No one ever saw a fat child in this neighbourhood, most of the time people were hungry and the winters were cold and long. Nevertheless, she was determined to take good care of him. Although she was a pensioner she received the occasional few bob from her brother. He was a carpenter and had no children of his own. He was happy to help his sister out. She had always been good to him at times of illness.
‘I am responsible for you now Jim, I want to know who you’re mixing with and I have house rules. I’m not having you roaming the streets for hours on end or coming in late and call me Aunty Sally.’ Jim looked down prompting her to put her hand under his chin, she gently tilted his face towards her. ‘Now look at me when I am talking to you. I want you to be a good, honest boy and do you know that it is wrong to steal?’
‘I do Aunty.’
‘And do you know what happens to people who thieve and get into trouble with the law?’
‘They go to jail, like me Pa and jail is a bad place, I will never go there!’ Said Jim indignantly.
‘Good, now remember I am trusting you and don’t let anyone in this house while I’m out.’ She then produced her spare door key which was hanging on a piece of string. She placed it over his head, making sure it was hidden under his shirt.
‘There you are, let yourself back in when you’ve finished playing, you will never be left out on the step again in all weathers like you were across the street. But, you have to behave.’ Her expression was serious as she added, ‘do not let me down.’
‘Promise I won’t Aunty!’
Sally then left the house with the boy, locking the door behind her. She was surprised at how serious and grown up he sounded. ‘Unbelievably grown up for such a small boy, but I expect he’s lived more in five minutes than most of us have lived in ten years.’ Sally was steadfast in her mission to give him a better life.
‘Now, you can play out for an hour until I get back. Will you be going up to Florrie’s?’
‘Nah, playing out with the boys today.’
Sally was going to see the women from Barnado’s. She felt compelled to tell them that the girls had not returned. She was worried that they had been seen being taken up the street by a young woman. She still racked her brains as to who this might be. As she walked up the street she was deep in thought. Along the way she asked a number of children if they had seen Rachel and Ruby, they all shook their heads.
Much to her surprise she spotted Betsy Hale loitering around the entrance of one of the courts. ‘What’s that old bag doing around here?’ Thought Sally, she was highly suspicious. She remembered seeing her at the Boyle’s house over a year ago just before Alice had gone missing.
Another neighbour, holding a crying baby, was coming down the steps of a house she was passing. Sally said ‘Hello’ to her and made a fuss of the infant. Sally’s back was turned to Betsy who was a bit further up the street on the opposite side. She asked the neighbour with the baby if the woman standing on the other side of the street had been causing any trouble. The neighbour glanced over to Betsy, then explained that she had been quizzing about the Boyles.
‘About the Boyles?’ Asked Sally. The neighbour showed no interest nor expression, she had enough of her own troubles. She had told her all she knew. Sally thanked the woman and bid her goodbye, she realised that the wizened little brothel keeper was being crafty and manipulative.
She carried on walking and ignored the spindly, black cloaked madam who was still standing across the street. Sally’s heart was heavy, as she thought about Alice who went missing last year and now the two younger sisters had vanished.
She couldn’t get it clear in her mind. If Betsy Hale had arranged to have the girls snatched then why was she here asking about them. What had really happened to Alice? Sally was sure of one thing, she had definitely seen Betsy Hale at the Boyle’s house shortly before Alice’s disappearance. She knew where the Hales lived in Duke Street and now she would have to tell the authorities everything.
Sally had been told by the Barnado’s visitors that Charlie had been locked up alongside Freddie Hale. She knew that Freddie was as bad as his wife. They both lived off immoral earnings and Freddie had bought stolen goods from Charlie. The Hales were a sly and unscrupulous pair.
There were a few people, like Freddie, who were too spineless to go out robbing but thought that buying the goods was unlikely to result in detection. He had gone on for years in this manner, always a suspect, lying low in the shadows.
Betsy soon realised that she was wasting her time. She was careful not to ask anyone too close to the Boyle’s house in case someone recognised her. However, her presence hadn’t gone unnoticed.
One neighbour especially remembered Betsy from earlier times. It was Florrie’s mother, Minnie Ryan. She was aghast when she saw her and stepped back from her front door. She was now sure that it was Betsy Hale.
Minnie thought she had seen the back of the dreadful woman who had been walking down the street a little while earlier. Minnie had stayed safely behind the lace curtains of her front window. She was scared in case Betsy recognised her. Just the sight of her made her fearful.
When Minnie was just a child, her mother had, at times, left her in the care of Betsy while she ran errands. Little did her mother know that the ‘kindly’ neighbour was using her daughter to perform acts for her gentlemen callers. At first she used to strip the child and let her play in the parlour naked in front of men. In time, Minnie was encouraged to touch the men. In return, Betsy bought clothes and presents for Minnie.
The truth came out when one day, she refused to go to Betsy’s. She told her mother what had being going on. Her mother didn’t believe her and Betsy denied it. The scars of what had happened and even worse, not being believed, always remained with her.
Minnie thought that she had left all that behind her and didn’t want reminding of her unhappy past. She now had a respectable job in the laundry and she feared for her daughter Florrie.
Having caught sight of Betsy, Minnie began to make sense of Alice’s disappearance and wondered if she had something to do with the other two missing sisters.
‘She won’t ever get anywhere near my Florrie. Over my dead body or their’s!’
Within moments of Betsy arriving back at her house in Duke Street, there was hammering and banging on her front door. She nearly jumped out of her skin, she leapt to the window to see who it was. She thought it must be a disgruntled punter that one of the girls had robbed. Betsy had real fear in her heart, she was relieved to see it was a pair of flat footed policemen. She smirked and smoothed down her black taffeta dress as she calmly went down the hall to open the front door.
‘Betsy Jane Hale?’ Enquired the taller of the two. He had a waxed moustache and bad teeth, Betsy thought he must be a smoker like her.
‘I am indeed.’ Replied Betsy as she looked at him full in the face. They barged past her, the taller bobby waved his warrant under her nose.
‘Now, now gentlemen, please be calm, this is a respectable place.’ She coughed forcefully, then corrected herself. ‘A respectable house, now what is this about?’
‘We have reason to believe that you have committed a very serious offence and we are here to search the premises.’ They briefly exchanged a look and were slightly wrong footed by her coolness.
‘We have reason to believe that you have been living off the immoral earnings of a juvenile.’
Betsy’s face was grim and pale, otherwise she was composed and hid her fear and anger.
‘I will show you around.’ Her bracelets jingled as she waved her arm as though about to usher guests into dinner. But much to Betsy’s annoyance, they opened several drawers and cupboards, here and there as they searched every room.
The attic room had been cleared out by the girls, Betsy could hardly contain her fury as she looked around the once cluttered attic. Her jaw almost dropped with shock at the emptiness of the place, there was still a lingering smell of cheap scent. Apart from that, they had left no trace of ever being there.
‘Is something the matter madam?’
She barely stifled a cough, her throat was dry, as she replied, ‘No.’ In a quiet and croaky voice.
She hadn’t thought to check the rooms after Lou and Ellen had left. She was most surprised to discover that they had even taken Alice’s clothes.
Betsy was now wondering if Alice had fetched up in Seymour Street after all. ‘Now I could really cause Lily some bother. Bother?’ She thought, ‘More like fucking murder!’
For the time being, she would keep it under her hat, Betsy was determined to keep a low profile. She wanted the law off her back, the recent episode with Freddie had been quite enough for her.
The policemen thought that her house was a bit odd with four beds in an unlived in looking attic and a bed downstairs in the kitchen. As though she could read their thoughts she chipped in, ‘Sometimes, I take in lodgers,
only
gentlemen of course.’
‘Of course you do madam! Said the younger policeman with a guffaw.
Although annoyed at his sarcasm, she was relieved when the police had left satisfied.
‘No evidence of a juvenile girl and no other signs of impropriety’ was scrawled in their pocket books. It was no one else’s business what any one got up to behind the privacy of their own front door providing it wasn’t illegal.
It was time for Betsy to have her first gin of the day and this she enjoyed.
Rachel and Ruby were now reunited with Alice on Rupert’s Hill. They were happy and safe. They had been taken to Larry’s house at the top of the Hill, out of town and out of danger. Alice, had for the time being, forgotten about her experiences at the hands of the evil Hales. All three sisters had put their unhappy childhood behind them. Now they would never want for anything, there was food in abundance and no one could hurt them anymore.
T
he following day, Betsy breathed a wheezy sigh as she came round late in the morning. She was worried and hadn’t slept well. She knew that her money would quickly dry up with the loss of income from her brothel. She had to find a youngster to bring in the big money. Without Freddie, she would have to find girls herself. She didn’t spare a thought for him as she lay there scheming, in her comfortable bed.
She had heard about a woman named Liz who was working in a house near China Town. She had just been released from an asylum. Word had it that Liz was a lesbian with nymphomaniac tendencies. Incarceration was often recommended in the treatment of young women with ‘unnatural’ sexual traits. This intrigued Betsy, as it meant that she would probably be hard up, therefore, willing to do anything for money.
Freddie was languishing in a cell in Walton Jail. Exceptionally, he was ‘banged up’ with his partner in crime, Charlie Boyle.
They were woken before dawn by the customary prison noises of shouting and the jangle of keys. Charlie had had a restless night and Freddie was feeling unwell. The room was beginning to spin and a wave of severe nausea was coming over him.
Thanks to the benefits of the Prison Reform Act they were reasonably well treated. They were clothed, fed and exercised. There was a water closet on every landing with washing facilities. The prison building was naturally ventilated and had a rudimentary heating system. Each landing was lit by gas lamps.
Hygiene was paramount in the prison regime. New inmates were given a bath and issued with two sets of prison clothing. They were expected to wash every morning and evening, they took a bath once a fortnight. Underwear had to be washed once a week and outerwear once a month.
Exercise was deemed important. Prisoners exercised for one hour a day in the airing yards. Food was provided for free but it was plain – porridge, soup, bread and milk – but more plentiful and nutritious than Charlie had been used to in his life outside. Even Freddie ate better than he did at home.
The regime was, however, severe. Together with the loss of their freedom and deprivation of alcohol, it was a strict and disciplined environment for the men to serve their time. It was humane but unpleasant, purposefully designed to deter men and women from committing crimes. By keeping them mostly in silence and making them do hard and boring work, prisoners were made to face up to their wrong doing.
Despite the ventilation, the air was stale and damp. The putrid smell of the tin chamber pot in the cell, which was only slopped out once a day, made life unbearable. Tempers had flared between the two men, each blaming the other for their predicament.
Within a very short space of time, they could barely look at each other. The regime had concentrated their thoughts on their life on the outside. Charlie had ruminated for days about his life in Circus Street, in particular about his children. He now wanted to know from Freddie what had become of Alice.
Freddie was shivering, although it was late summer, he had beads of feverish sweat all over his face.
‘Don’t be fucking looking at me like that!’ Freddie was feeling agitated, he was still experiencing withdrawal symptoms from the alcohol and narcotics which were still in his system.