The Workhouse Girl (16 page)

She hesitated. ‘What about Trigg? You said you had to see him tonight.'

‘He'll be in the Rising Sun. I won't let on that you're here, so don't worry.'

Sarah nodded vaguely. ‘Good luck.'

‘Don't fret. I can repay my debt and that'll be the end of it.'

Sarah was too tired to worry about Trigg, who would almost certainly have forgotten about her after all this time. He had had his revenge on poor Mr Arbuthnot and she was a person of very little importance. She realised that Grey was waiting to see her safely into the building, and the reason for his concern was obvious when she saw a group of drunken men staggering towards her. She hurried inside and closed the door, hoping that they had not seen her. She breathed a sigh of relief when the sound of their boots thudding on the paving stones faded into the distance.

It was extremely dark and the floorboards were uneven, creaking noisily each time she took a step. She had to feel along the walls, dislodging flakes of plaster and stifling cries of disgust as her fingers came in contact with damp patches and the odd snail or two. After what felt like an eternity, she came to the end of the long passageway. True to his word, Grey had left the door open and she stepped inside, shutting the door and bolting it as he had instructed. As her eyes become accustomed to the darkness she could just make out the square panes of a window on the far wall. A glimmer of light from the street lamp outside revealed a single wooden chair close to an empty grate and a narrow bed in the corner of the room. A table was pushed up against the wall and amidst the clutter of plates, mugs and empty bottles she found a candle and a box of vestas.

She discovered that candlelight did nothing to improve Grey's lodging place. Cobwebs festooned the ceiling and veiled the window. Ashes spilled from the grate onto the tiled fire surround and the air was stale. Cockroaches scattered in all directions as she crossed the floor to take a closer look at Elsie, who was stirring and groaning. Sarah stuck the candle in an empty beer bottle and set it on the windowsill, leaving her hands free to tend Elsie, but there was little she could do other than give her a few drops of laudanum diluted in water.

‘We'll get you to hospital first thing in the morning,' she said, hoping that Elsie might be able to hear her and understand that she was doing everything in her power to make her well again. ‘You'll be better soon, and we'll go home. We'll find somewhere else to live and I'll take care of you. Grey will help us. He owes you that, Elsie.' She pulled up the coverlet, wrinkling her nose. The lack of female touches and the disorder in the room spoke volumes about Grey's bachelor existence. She began by tidying up the mess on the table, filling an old sack that she found stuffed in a broken windowpane with rubbish and cinders from the grate.

It was cold in the room and she could feel dampness rising through gaps in the floorboards. There were a few lumps of coal in the scuttle and a bundle of kindling stacked on the mantelshelf. She was in the process of lighting the fire when she heard someone tapping on the door.

Forgetting Grey's warning she rose to her feet and ran to open it. ‘Thank goodness. I thought you were never coming back.' Her hand flew to her mouth as the man barged past her and strode over to the bed. He wrenched back the covers and uttered an oath.

‘Who are you?' Sarah demanded nervously. ‘What are you doing here? This isn't your room.'

He had his back to her but he snatched the candle from the table and turned slowly to face her. His face was in shadow but she knew him instantly. Her heart was pounding and her legs threatened to give way beneath her. ‘What do you want?' she whispered. ‘Go away.'

TRIGG HELD THE
lighted candle close to her face. ‘I know that voice. It's bloody Sal Scratch.' He threw back his head and laughed. ‘So he couldn't keep his filthy hands off you. I always knew that Grey was a man after me own heart.'

She felt sick. The bitter taste of bile filled her mouth but she held her head high. ‘I'm Sarah Scrase and you couldn't be more wrong. Grey is my friend. He's looked out for me all these years since you stole me from my home.'

Trigg glanced over his shoulder. ‘Who's that in the bed? I know it ain't your ma because we buried her in a pauper's grave together with her bastard child.'

‘Don't you dare speak ill of Ma. She was a good woman.'

‘She was a whore and it looks like you're going down the same path.'

‘That's a wicked lie. You don't know anything about me.'

‘Well, if you ain't Grey's doxy, what are you doing here?'

‘You're a bad man to even think such dreadful things,' Sarah cried angrily. ‘I owe my life to him. I don't know how he came to be mixed up with a brute like you, but Tobias Grey is a good man and you are evil.'

He guffawed with laughter and his hand shook, spilling candle wax onto the floor. He put it down and his face was left in shadow, but the menace in his expression was imprinted in her mind and she was nine years old again and terrified. He took a step towards her. ‘You've grown into a cheeky little madam, Sal. A good slapping would knock that out of you.'

She was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing that she was afraid and she forced herself to remain calm. ‘What do you want? Grey isn't here.'

‘I can see that, sweetheart. But I'll bet a golden guinea that he won't be far away from his lady love. The bastard owes me money and I ain't going nowhere until I get what's due to me.'

A footstep in the doorway made them both turn to see Grey, half hidden beneath the pile of bedding he had brought from the cart. Sarah raised her hand in warning. ‘Don't come in.'

He dropped his burden and kicked it out of the way. ‘Keep out of this, Sarah. It's between him and me.'

‘Yes, it is.' Trigg made a move towards him, fisting his hands. ‘I want what I'm owed.'

Grey stood his ground. ‘And you shall have it, but we'll go to the pub as arranged and leave the ladies in peace.'

‘Ladies!' Trigg spat on the floor. ‘I don't know about the old 'un. But it seems to me you've taken full advantage of young Sal.'

Grey would have lunged at Trigg but Sarah threw herself between them. ‘Don't play his game. That's exactly what he wants.'

‘She's a bright girl. I'm sorry I got rid of her, but it's not too late. If you can't pay up, I'll take her instead.'

‘I can settle the debt, but I'm warning you, Trigg. Lay a hand on Sarah and you'll have me to answer to.' Grey moved swiftly to the door, holding it open. ‘Let's go.'

‘You would do better with me, darling.' Trigg looked her up and down with a lascivious grin. ‘The missis is past her best and I could do with some young blood.'

‘You'll taste your own if you carry on like that.' Grey's voice was controlled but his eyes glittered angrily.

Trigg raised his hand to touch Sarah's cheek as he walked past her. ‘You'll keep, little girl.' He lowered his voice. ‘But don't think you've seen the last of me.'

‘Come along, man,' Grey said impatiently. ‘The pub will be closed if we don't hurry.'

‘The landlord will stay open if I tells him to.' Trigg stared pointedly at Grey's bandaged hands. ‘You're not in any condition to stand up for yourself. I could take her and your money right now, if I felt so inclined.'

‘Just try it.'

Sarah watched helplessly as they squared up to each other. She could tell by the pallor of his skin, and the white lines etched from the corners of his mouth to his chin, that Grey's hands must be causing him a great deal of pain. It would only take one punch from Trigg's huge fist to knock him senseless.

‘But I give my word,' Trigg said, chuckling. ‘Honour amongst thieves and all that, Tobias my boy. I'll settle for the money and a glass of brandy, this time.' He pushed Grey into the passage and they both disappeared into the darkness.

Sarah ran to the door and closed it but the smell of Trigg lingered in the room, tainting the atmosphere as if part of him remained there to haunt her. She paced the floor, too agitated to even think about sleep. She had never thought to meet Trigg again but he was even worse than she remembered. Her childish fear of the workhouse master was even greater now that she was a young woman. His whole attitude to her had changed and was even more terrifying than before. The look in his eyes had sickened her and his assumption that Grey had taken advantage of her youth and innocence was revolting.

She came to a halt by the bed, gazing down at Elsie's inert form with tears in her eyes. She was an unlikely surrogate mother, but despite her odd ways they had dealt well together through the years. Sarah drew the covers up to Elsie's chin. Now it was her turn to look after the woman who had taken her in and had taught her all she knew. As soon as morning came they would take her to hospital and pray for a miracle. The doctor in Maldon had not held out much hope, but Elsie was a strong woman and a determined one. She, the healer, needed a power greater than her own to save her now. Sarah knelt by her bedside, murmuring the prayers that her mother had taught her when she was a small child. Elsie might worship the pagan gods but Sarah did not think that would be held against her in heaven.

She rose to her feet and put one of the pillows under Elsie's head. She laid the remainder of the bedding on the floor, one blanket for herself and one for Grey, spacing them as far apart as was possible in a small room. It was difficult to forget Trigg's vile accusations but she did her best to put them out of her mind. She stoked the fire with the remainder of the coal and sat down to await Grey's return. After a while she was beginning to feel sleepy, but the sound of approaching footsteps made her suddenly alert. The door opened and she leapt to her feet. ‘Grey?'

‘Yes, it's me.' He closed the door and bolted it. ‘You should be asleep, kid. It's almost two in the morning.'

‘I had to be certain that you were all right.'

He took off his hat and jacket and hung them on a nail high up on the wall, out of reach of nibbling rodents and the armies of ants and cockroaches that skittered across the floor. ‘I've paid him, that's all that matters. He won't bother me again unless there's a job he wants me to do, but I've had enough of Trigg. I'll not be working with him again.'

‘He's a brute.'

‘He's a villain and you do right to be scared of him. I'll get you away from here as soon as possible, Sarah. This isn't the place for you.'

‘But we must get Elsie to hospital.'

‘As soon as it's light I'll bring the cart round and we'll take her to the Charing Cross hospital. That's the nearest.'

‘I want to stay with her. I don't want her to wake up in a strange place. She'll be alone and frightened.'

‘I don't think Elsie has ever been scared of anything, kid.' He sat down suddenly. ‘As soon as Elsie's taken care of I'll go and get Boxer. The ostler only promised to keep him overnight and I wouldn't want him to fall into the hands of strangers who might ill-treat the poor brute.'

She was too tired to argue or to challenge his decision. ‘All right. We'll sort everything out in the morning.'

‘Good girl. Now make yourself comfortable. I'm afraid it'll have to be the floor, but you take the bedding. I'll sleep in the chair.' He smiled. ‘It won't be the first time. Now get some sleep.'

Elsie was admitted to hospital next morning and Sarah waited outside the cubicle while the doctor examined her. She wished that Grey had been able to stay and give her moral support, but he had left for Essex promising to return as soon as possible. She kept glancing at the clock on the wall but the hands seemed to be stuck in one position. Time was leaden and the heaviness of it pressed in upon her. She tried to keep calm but she was becoming increasingly agitated. Surely they would know something after all this time. She glanced at the clock yet again and was about to get up to make enquiries when the door opened and the doctor stepped out into the corridor. The shred of hope she had been harbouring faded when she saw his grave expression. ‘How is she, doctor? Will she be all right?'

‘In cases like these the patient often succumbs to shock,' he said, shaking his head. ‘Or else infection sets in and there is very little we can do other than keep them sedated and apply dressings soaked in turpentine.'

‘Can I stay with her, doctor?'

‘I'm sorry, miss. It's against the rules, but you may visit your mother this afternoon between four o'clock and five o'clock.'

She did not bother to explain her relationship to Elsie; it hardly seemed to matter whether or not they were blood relations. She left the hospital in a daze. Having put so much faith in the miracles of modern medicine it was almost impossible to believe that the doctors could fail now. She was beginning to wish she had used the tried and tested salve made from lard, mutton tallow, beeswax and carbolic acid which Elsie had used to treat burns. The mere thought of bandages soaked in turpentine made Sarah wince.

She set off along the Strand, heading in the direction of Wych Street. Grey had given her strict instructions to return to his lodgings and not to open the door to anyone but himself. She intended to do as he asked, but he had given her some money and she wanted to purchase a nightgown for Elsie and a shawl for herself. If she could find a second-hand shop she might be able to afford a change of clothes as well, but it had begun to spit with rain and her straw bonnet would be ruined if she did not take shelter.

She took a short cut through Drury Court, although she knew it to be a dangerous area, the haunt of criminals and families living with crippling poverty in filthy, rat-infested tenements. Men were huddled round a brazier, and women with babies in their arms and toddlers clinging to their skirts stared at her with hostile expressions on their hollow-cheeked faces. Some of them jeered at her, but a few of them held out their hands, begging for money. It was hard to ignore their pleas, which were genuine enough, but if the pickpockets thought she had anything of value about her person she would soon be relieved of her purse, and they might not stop at that. Unwary trespassers in the rookeries could find themselves stripped of their clothing and left to wander the alleyways barefoot and shivering.