The Workhouse Girl (42 page)

‘He'd seen me at the house in Spital Square and he knew I was related to the Fitch family. He spotted a chance to make even more money from my uncle by threatening to expose me as a petty crook, and when that failed he made me work for him until the debt was repaid with interest. I was a fool to get involved . . .' He broke off, struggling for breath as he fell back on the pillow.

‘You mustn't worry about anything, Grey. You must concentrate on getting well again. Moorcroft will see to it that justice is done.'

‘It's too late for me, Sarah. I'm done for.'

‘You mustn't say things like that.'

‘The truth weighs heavily on my conscience. I should have told Elsie that her child lived as soon as I found out, but I didn't because I was a coward. I didn't want her to know that I was involved with a criminal like Trigg.'

‘None of that matters now, Grey.'

‘Yes, it does. I want to die with a clear conscience. You must find her daughter and make sure she's all right.'

‘I'll try but it won't be easy. How old would she be now?'

‘A year or two older than you.'

‘Do you remember her name?'

Grey's eyes opened wider and he gripped her hand so hard that she cried out with pain. His lips formed a word but she could not hear what he was trying to tell her. ‘What are you saying?'

‘Nan . . .' The word escaped from his lips like a sigh and his head fell to one side. His eyes were closed as if he had fallen into a peaceful sleep.

‘Grey. Speak to me.' Sarah laid her head on his chest, listening in vain for a heartbeat. ‘No . . .' She buried her face in her arms and sobbed.

‘I can't have a dead body in one of my best rooms.' Mrs Kenny stood arms akimbo, glaring at Sarah. ‘It's bad for business. I'll send my boy for the undertaker.'

‘No.' Sarah dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘I must take him home.'

Mrs Kenny raised an eyebrow. ‘And where is that, may I ask?'

‘I don't think it's any of your business. My friend will be here soon and then we'll make arrangements.'

A flicker of doubt crossed Mrs Kenny's face. ‘Well he'd better hurry because I want you out of here by tonight. Anyway, it's best if you leave under the cover of darkness. I don't want the neighbours to see a corpse being carted out of the house.' She turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

Sarah remained at the bedside, keeping a vigil over Grey's body as it lay cold and still beneath the sheet. Even though she knew he had gone from her, she still found it hard to believe that he could have succumbed to a simple fever when he had survived shipwreck and near drowning, but the sea had claimed his life as surely as if he had been swallowed up by the waves. It seemed that she had only to love someone and they were taken from her. The Thames had robbed her of her father, and she had watched her mother die in the squalid surroundings of the workhouse labour ward. Elsie had survived the fire only to succumb to her injuries and now Grey was dead. He had been a fallible human being and had fallen into a life of crime, but she had always felt safe in his company, and there was no one who could fill the gap his passing had left in her heart and in her life.

She wept until she could cry no more, and she must have fallen asleep as she was awakened by the sound of voices and footsteps outside her room. The door opened and she snapped upright in her chair, blinking as her eyes grew accustomed to candlelight.

‘Sarah, my dear. We've just heard the sad news.'

‘Mr Moorcroft.' She rose stiffly to her feet and flung herself into his arms. ‘You came.'

‘Of course I did, Sarah. When I heard Davey's account of your trials nothing would keep me from you.'

She glanced over his shoulder and saw Davey standing beside Mrs Kenny. He hurried to her side. ‘I'm so sorry,' he said softly.

‘Grey's gone,' Sarah murmured, choking back a sob. ‘He died this morning.'

‘And I want the corpse out of here,' Mrs Kenny said firmly. ‘This is a respectable lodging house and I've got my reputation to think of. There's nothing that will put customers off more than a death in one of the letting rooms.'

Moorcroft turned on her, glowering. ‘While I appreciate your concern, my good woman, I can assure you that we will take all the necessary steps. Now if you want to be of assistance I suggest you send for a laying-out nurse and an undertaker.'

‘No.' Sarah clasped his hand. ‘I want Grey taken home to Blackwood. I don't want to leave him here where no one knew him.'

Davey slipped his arm around her waist, giving her a comforting hug. ‘I'm sure it can be arranged.'

Moorcroft nodded. ‘Of course. And I'm sure that Mrs Kenny will see that my instructions are carried out.'

‘Yes, sir.' Mrs Kenny backed away. ‘I'll see to it now.'

Moorcroft waited until the door closed on her. ‘Dreadful woman. I wouldn't spend the night here if she gave me bed and board for nothing.' He turned to Sarah with an encouraging smile. ‘You look exhausted, my dear. We'll wait until the undertaker arrives and then we'll set off.'

‘We're travelling overnight?' Sarah looked from one to the other. ‘But you must be tired after coming all the way from London.'

‘I've booked rooms at the hotel not far from here,' Moorcroft said, glancing round the room with a look of distaste. ‘We'll catch the London train in the morning and break our journey there. Sophia is eager to see you and so is Nettie.'

‘What happened about her audition?'

‘She's got a part in Boucicault's latest play at the Lyceum,' Davey said enthusiastically. ‘I've forgotten what it's called but she can't talk about anything else.'

‘Perhaps this isn't the right time to talk about it,' Moorcroft said softly.

‘I'm glad for her,' Sarah said dully. ‘But at the moment I can't really think straight.'

Moorcroft took Davey aside. ‘It's the living we must take care of now, my boy. I want you to take Sarah to the hotel and order dinner for all three of us. I'll settle matters here and follow on as soon as I can.'

Sarah pulled back the sheet and dropped a kiss on Grey's forehead. ‘I'll take you to Blackwood. You're going home, Tobias Grey.'

They arrived in Elbow Lane in the early afternoon. The events of the previous day were a blur in Sarah's mind, but after a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed she was feeling more able to cope with what lay ahead. Mrs Arbuthnot was sincere in her welcome, and below stairs in the warmth of the kitchen Sarah had an eager audience in Cook, Dorcas and Betty, who wanted to hear every detail of her trip to France and bombarded her with questions. She was plied with tea and seed cake and each of them in turn begged her to remain in London.

‘You don't want to go back to that draughty old house in the wilds of Essex,' Cook said, refilling Sarah's teacup for the second time. ‘We've got room for you here now that young Nettie's living in digs nearer the theatre. Dorcas and me have got tickets for her first night. I can't wait to see her on stage.'

Dorcas offered her another slice of cake. ‘I've made it up with Wally and we'll be getting married soon, Sarah. I'm sure that the mistress would take you on in my place.'

Betty shuffled across the floor to sit by Sarah's side. ‘I'd like you to stay. I misses you something terrible.' She shot a resentful glance at Dorcas. ‘She slaps me round the lughole for nothing. Bad-tempered bitch.'

‘Language, Betty,' Cook said, frowning. ‘Dorcas has every right to discipline you when you do wrong.'

Betty huddled up against Sarah's knee. ‘I'd like to live in that house in the country. Can I come with you?'

Sarah stroked Betty's lank mousey hair back from her forehead. ‘Not today, love. I'm not sure what I'll be doing. I think the house belongs to Mr Fitch now, and he won't want me there.'

‘What about that handsome young chap who came to fetch Mr Moorcroft?' Dorcas said, eyeing Sarah curiously. ‘There's a romance in the air if I'm not mistaken.'

‘You hear wedding bells everywhere.' Cook chuckled and all her chins wobbled. ‘Ever since Miss Parfitt and Franz announced their engagement there's been wedding fever in this house, Sarah. You're lucky you've missed it all.'

‘Miss Parfitt is going to be married?'

‘In a few weeks' time,' Dorcas said smugly. ‘But Wally and me will beat her to it. You'll come to our wedding, won't you?'

‘Of course,' Sarah said, smiling dazedly. ‘It's a lot to take in at once, but I'll be here if I can. The trouble is that I don't know what's happening to Davey and his brothers and sister. I have to go back to Blackwood for Grey's funeral and Davey needs to find a new home for himself and the children.' She rose to her feet, gently freeing her skirt from Betty's clutching fingers. ‘You be a good girl now, Betty, and I'll see you again very soon.'

Cook's mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Think about what I said, Sarah. There's a job here when Dorcas goes. You could do worse and I'm sure that the mistress will agree to take you on.'

‘Thank you all for being so kind.' Sarah turned away to hide the tears that had sprung to her eyes. She did not want to disgrace herself by crying in front of them, nor did she want to upset Betty who would almost certainly join in and start howling. ‘I'd best go upstairs before they come looking for me.'

She found Davey and Moorcroft in the parlour conversing earnestly with Mrs Arbuthnot.

‘I'm just leaving,' Moorcroft said, turning to Sarah with a tired smile. ‘It's been a long day but it's not over yet. I'm going straight to Spital Square to see George Fitch. He is the next of kin and must be notified.'

‘I'm coming with you.' Sarah met his surprised look with a steady gaze. ‘I think he hid Elsie's will because he knew that she'd left the house to Grey.'

‘That's a serious accusation,' Moorcroft said slowly. ‘Can you prove it?'

‘Of course not, but he's capable of anything. Did Davey tell you that Fitch has been dealing with the free traders? That's why he allowed the rumours of Blackwood House being haunted to circulate and frighten off visitors. He didn't want anyone to discover the secret passage that leads to the church crypt, and the regular cargoes of contraband that find their way to Blackwood's cellars.'

Moorcroft's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. ‘Is this true?'

‘It's true, sir.' Davey nodded emphatically. ‘I'll bear witness to that and I can name a dozen or more people who'll testify against Fitch.'

‘What does all this mean, Martin?' Mrs Arbuthnot looked from one to the other. ‘It sounds very serious.'

‘It changes everything,' Moorcroft said, running his hand through his grizzled hair. ‘I need to speak to my former client right away, and you should accompany me, Sarah.'

‘Me too, sir.' Davey moved swiftly to Sarah's side. ‘I'll have a few words to say to Mr Fitch.'

‘No, my boy. I think it best if you return to your village. You must go to Blackwood House and make sure that your sister and brothers are all right. If George has sent Mrs Trigg to evict them they could be in serious trouble.'

Sarah caught Davey's eye and shook her head. She knew that he was thinking of the body caught up in the embrace of the yew tree tunnel. The thaw must have set in by now, and unless Parker had managed to dispose of the corpse it would be decomposing. ‘Yes, Davey,' she said, fixing him with a meaningful stare. ‘Please go to Blackwood and make sure that everything is all right. Parker isn't the most forgiving or patient of men and your brothers can be very lively. The children need you.'

‘Yes, of course.' He hesitated. ‘But there's a question of funds. I'm sorry, Mr Moorcroft, but I'll have to ask if I may borrow the train fare. I'll repay you as soon as I'm able to.'

Moorcroft put his hand in his pocket and took out a handful of coins. ‘This should be enough to keep you and your family for a while. You won't be able to go fishing until your broken bones mend.'

‘Thank you, sir. I'm indebted to you.' Davey's cheeks flushed and he looked away.

Sarah could feel his embarrassment and she linked her hand through his arm. ‘Don't worry. We'll get through this somehow, Davey. I'll follow you to Blackwood as soon as I can. I've a funeral to arrange and I know that Grey would want to be buried in the family plot. That's something else I want to discuss with Mr Fitch.'

 

George Fitch sat behind his large desk, steepling his fingers. ‘Well, Martin, what have you to say? I'm a busy man and I don't have time to spare on trivialities.'

‘The first thing I have to do is to tell you that your nephew, Tobias Grey, passed away after a short illness.'

George's jaw dropped as he digested this piece of news. ‘So he's escaped the law after all. I always knew he was a slippery character.'

‘That's not fair,' Sarah cried angrily. ‘You placed false charges against him. Grey didn't do anything wrong.'

‘What's she doing here, Martin? My agent, Mrs Trigg, told me that this little troublemaker was trespassing on my property.'

‘I came because Grey wanted to be buried in the family plot,' Sarah said without giving Moorcroft a chance to respond. ‘And it was Grey who took me to Blackwood House, so I wasn't trespassing as you put it. He had as much right as anyone to be there. In fact, it was probably left to him in Elsie's will, the document that has so mysteriously disappeared.'

George slammed his hands down on the tooled leather top of his desk. ‘You can't prove anything. The whole estate belongs to me now.'

‘So you admit that you are responsible for the property?' Moorcroft betrayed nothing by his expression or tone of voice.