The Workhouse Girl (7 page)

Taking advantage of the fact that their attacker was hopping up and down in pain, Nettie grabbed Cook's umbrella. ‘Follow me.' She ran on ahead, trailing the ferule along the railings so that even as she disappeared into the wall of fog the metallic sound rang out like a peal of bells, leading them home.

When they were safely indoors with the door bolted, Sarah sank down on the nearest chair and Cook stepped over the sleeping Betty to take the simmering kettle off the hob. ‘We'll have a nice hot cup of cocoa, and you can tell me why that ruffian wanted to take you from us, young Sarah.' She reached up, taking the cocoa tin from the mantelshelf. ‘Pass me some cups from the dresser, Nettie.' She frowned, turning her gaze on Sarah who was shivering even though the kitchen was warm. ‘Had you ever seen that man before?'

‘N-never.' Sarah wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to control her shaking limbs. ‘I dunno why he wanted me.'

Nettie placed the cups on the table. ‘It don't take a clever person to work that out, duck. Who was here just a few days ago, making a fuss and demanding his rights?'

‘Mr Trigg, but that wasn't him.'

‘No, silly, but I'll bet it was the workhouse master what sent him to get you. Trigg ain't the sort to give up easily, and he's greedy. He'll be in trouble if the governors find out about his crooked business dealings, and I'll warrant it don't stop at selling the odd kid into slavery.'

Cook stopped what she was doing and her eyes narrowed. ‘The master should be told about this.' She pushed the kettle towards Nettie. ‘Finish making the cocoa. I'm going to see if Mr Arbuthnot is still up. He should be told.'

‘He might send me away,' Sarah whispered, her bottom lip trembling. ‘He might even send me back to the workhouse.'

Cook stepped over Betty, who had not stirred from her straw-filled palliasse by the range and was snoring loudly. ‘He won't do that, but he might well report the matter to the governors.' She left them staring helplessly at each other as she went upstairs.

‘I hope he's gone to bed,' Sarah said, biting her lip. ‘I don't want any trouble.'

Nettie finished making the cocoa and passed a cup to her. ‘Looks like you got it, whether you wants it or not, love.'

Cook returned just as they finished their warming drinks. She was flushed with triumph and slightly out of breath. ‘The master was in his study and he was horrified and then furious. He said he's already told the board of governors about Trigg but he'll let them know about the attempted kidnap. It might not be anything to do with the workhouse master, but he's going to report the matter to the police in case the man is known to them. I can certainly give a description of him, and you two might be asked to put your twopenn'orth in as well. Anyway, off to bed with you.'

The constable noted down everything that Sarah said. Mr Arbuthnot sat behind his desk, making encouraging noises when she was at a loss for words, and Mrs Arbuthnot sat beside her, holding her hand.

‘That will be all for now, sir.' The constable closed his notebook. ‘I've taken a description from Mrs Burgess and the other young girl and it will be circulated, although I have to say it could fit any number of the criminals known to us.'

Mr Arbuthnot rose from his seat. ‘I understand, constable. Anyway, thank you for attending so promptly.'

‘The officer on the beat will keep an eye on the house, sir.'

Mrs Arbuthnot squeezed Sarah's fingers. ‘That makes me feel much better. At least we'll be safe in our beds at night.'

‘Yes, ma'am.'

Mr Arbuthnot moved to the door and opened it. ‘I'll see you out, constable.'

Sarah gazed anxiously at Mrs Arbuthnot. ‘I'm sorry to have brought trouble to your door, ma'am.'

‘Nonsense, my dear. None of this is your fault, and you mustn't be afraid. We will see that no harm comes to you.' She released Sarah's hand with an encouraging smile. ‘You may go about your duties as usual, but you must on no account go out alone. I don't know why the workhouse master is causing us so much trouble, but I promise that we won't ever send you back to that dreadful place.'

Sarah bobbed a curtsey. ‘Thank you, ma'am.' She left the room and went to find Dorcas, who was dusting the drawing room on the first floor.

‘I seem to have missed all the excitement,' Dorcas said, tossing a duster to her. ‘Be careful with Mrs Arbuthnot's Dresden figurines. She'll be very upset if they get damaged.'

‘Yes, Dorcas.' Sarah picked one off the side table, hardly daring to breathe as she dusted the soot from the fragile piece.

‘So what did the peeler say? Did he know who it was who leapt out at you?'

‘I don't think so. He said it could be any one of the villains known to the police.'

‘But the master thinks it has to do with that horrible man Trigg.'

‘I think so, but I can't understand why he would want me back. Mrs Trigg used to call me Sal Scratch and made me wear a placard with my name written on it for everyone to see. She said I was the devil's daughter.'

Dorcas uttered a hollow laugh. ‘Did she now? Maybe she's the one related to Old Nick; it certainly sounds that way.' She gave a start as Sarah picked up a dainty porcelain shepherdess. ‘Oh, do be careful of that one, that's her favourite of all.'

Sarah put the ornament back on the table and when Dorcas was not looking she blew the dust off the delicate face and fingers. Before she came to Wellclose Square she would never have considered that keeping house was such a nerve-racking task, but she was rapidly learning its dangers and pitfalls, although so far she had not broken anything.

Dorcas lifted the sash and shook her duster out of the window. ‘At least the fog has cleared. It's my afternoon off and I'm stepping out with my gentleman friend.' She leaned out further. ‘There's a lady knocking on the front door.' She withdrew her head, turning to Sarah with a pleading look. ‘Run down and answer it, there's a good girl. She looks like one of them church-going ladies who raise money for orphans and foundlings. The master always gives something; that's why they make a beeline for this house.'

‘Perhaps you ought to go,' Sarah said nervously. ‘I wouldn't know what to say.'

‘I've got to get done or I'll be late meeting Wally, and he's a stickler for time. Just be polite and let her do the talking.'

Sarah was glad to be relieved of the onerous task of dusting precious things, and she raced downstairs hoping that she could remember everything that Dorcas had taught her. She stopped to check her appearance in the wall mirror by the hallstand before opening the front door. A housemaid had to appear clean and tidy at all times; that was what Dorcas always said. She opened the door and her breath hitched in her throat when she saw who was standing on the pavement outside. Forgetting everything that Dorcas had taught her about how to behave in public she threw her arms around the startled visitor, almost knocking her over. ‘Miss Parfitt. You came to see me.'

Disengaging herself from Sarah's frantic grasp, Miss Parfitt straightened her bonnet, which had almost been knocked off in the embrace. ‘I had to come, Sarah, but my business is with Mrs Arbuthnot.'

Sarah stared at her in amazement. ‘You know the mistress?'

‘Not exactly, but she sent a message to the workhouse asking me to come here today, although she didn't say why exactly.' Miss Parfitt glanced over Sarah's shoulder. ‘I think you'd better let me in, dear.'

‘Oh, yes. I'm sorry. I'm not used to doing this. It's Dorcas's job really but she's getting ready to go out and meet Wally, her gentleman friend.' Sarah stepped aside. ‘I've forgotten what I'm supposed to do next. I'm so pleased to see you, miss.'

‘And I you, Sarah. I think you ought to find Mrs Arbuthnot and tell her that I'm here.'

‘I expect she's in her parlour. That's where she spends most of the time on Sundays after dinner. We all went to church this morning. Nettie and me went with Cook and Dorcas, and Mr and Mrs Arbuthnot went on ahead. They sat in the front pew and we was at the back of the church, but the singing wasn't nearly as good as it was in the theatre last night.'

Miss Parfitt smiled and her pansy-brown eyes danced with amusement. ‘I'd love to hear about it, dear. But I think you should knock on the parlour door and announce me. Then if Mrs Arbuthnot says so, you come and tell me she'll see me, and show me into the room. Can you remember all that?'

‘Of course I can.' Controlling the urge to run, Sarah crossed the hall and knocked on the parlour door.

‘Come in.'

Sarah opened the door and went inside. ‘Miss Parfitt is here to see you, ma'am,' she said, bobbing a curtsey.

‘I was expecting her and I'm glad to see that she is on time. I hate unpunctuality. Show her in, please.'

Sarah ushered Miss Parfitt into the parlour and closed the door on them. She had to resist the temptation to listen at the keyhole, but she had no intention of going below stairs until she had found out if her suspicions were correct. She crossed her fingers, hoping that Miss Parfitt would agree to be her tutor, and then one day, if she worked really hard, maybe she might be able to find work as a teacher or even a governess. Of one thing Sarah was certain: she would do something that would make her mother proud of her, and if they met in heaven Ma would say, ‘Well done, love. I always knew you'd amount to something.' She paced the floor, waiting for what seemed like hours until the parlour door opened and Miss Parfitt emerged, followed by a smiling Mrs Arbuthnot.

‘Sarah, I have good news for you. Miss Parfitt has agreed to come here once a week, on her afternoon off, to continue your lessons.'

Miss Parfitt nodded. ‘I'd happily spend more time with you, Sarah, but my duties at the workhouse have to come first. However, you're a bright child and I'll set work for you to do on your own. Mrs Arbuthnot has offered to provide everything you'll need to further your education. You are a very lucky girl.'

‘I know that, miss. When do we start?'

Miss Parfitt came once a week as promised and Mrs Arbuthnot purchased the necessary books, a slate and slate pencils and even some expensive paper so that Sarah could learn to draw. Nettie was envious at first, but she changed her mind when she saw the amount of time that Sarah spent reading and doing sums.

On the Sunday before Christmas, Miss Parfitt arrived earlier than usual. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with excitement as she took off her bonnet and cape. ‘Such news,' she said, peeling off her gloves and handing them to Sarah. ‘You'll never guess what's happened at the workhouse.'

‘Are you all right, miss? You're not sick, are you?'

Miss Parfitt threw up her hands and laughed. ‘I'm absolutely fine, my dear. It's the Triggs. They've been sent packing. They're leaving the workhouse in disgrace. Can you imagine that?'

Sarah could, quite easily. She had been forbidden to venture out alone since the failed kidnap attempt, and she was certain that the man had been sent by Mr Trigg. ‘I'm glad, miss. They were bad people.'

‘I think everyone at the workhouse would agree with you there, Sarah. No one knows quite how it happened, but the board of governors called a special meeting and they sent for both Mr and Mrs Trigg. That was yesterday, and they've been given until tomorrow to pack their bags and leave.'

‘But that's Christmas Eve.'

‘I know. It does seem a little hard, but I can't find it in my heart to pity them. I myself have been thinking of leaving because I couldn't stand watching the poor children suffering. The only reason I stayed on was to try to make things better for them, but we must hope that the next workhouse master is a better person.'

Sarah's hands trembled as she hung Miss Parfitt's outer garments on the hallstand, but it was relief that made her shake from head to foot. The Triggs would have nothing to gain by abducting her now. She was free from them forever and she wanted to sing and dance, but her time in the workhouse had taught her how to control her emotions and she resisted the temptation. ‘Do you know where the Triggs are going, miss?'

‘No, but I hope it's somewhere far away from here. I never want to see them again.' Miss Parfitt opened the parlour door. ‘Let's start our lesson. It will be the last one before Christmas and I must say you're doing very well.' She opened the cupboard where the books were put away in between sessions and selected one. She spun round to face Sarah, her dark eyes lustrous with excitement. ‘Actually I have a surprise for you and Nettie. I was going to wait until we had finished, but I can't keep it to myself any longer.'

‘What is it, miss?'

‘Mrs Burgess told me how much you enjoyed your visit to the theatre, even though it very nearly turned into a disaster, but we won't speak of that.'

‘I'm safe now that the Triggs have gone. They won't want me any more.'

‘We must hope not, but that's not what I intended to say.' Miss Parfitt clasped her hands together and took a deep breath. ‘I'm putting this very badly and it's so simple. Your very kind employer has bought tickets for the show tomorrow evening at Wilton's music hall. He's treating you and Nettie, Mrs Burgess, Dorcas and myself, and just in case that evil man is lurking in the shadows, Mr Arbuthnot has arranged for one of the sugar bakers to escort us.'

Forgetting that she was supposed to behave with decorum during classes, Sarah danced up and down clapping her hands. ‘May I be excused so that I can tell Nettie?'

Miss Parfitt put the book down. ‘Of course you may, and when you return we'll read another chapter of
The Old Curiosity Shop
by Mr Dickens.'

‘I can't wait to find out what happens to Little Nell,' Sarah said, hesitating. ‘But I must tell Nettie about our Christmas treat. I never had one before and I don't suppose she has either.'