A Wanton Tale (15 page)

Betsy immediately thought about her hoard of cash. ‘Where did she get that sort of money? She’s fucking robbed us, I knew it!’

She was panicking, the thought of being robbed was unbearable. ‘Give me the Fu Dogs. I’m having another reckon up, I have an idea that Lily’s fucking fleeced us!’

She whipped off the heads of her precious ornaments. Pulling out a bundle of notes from each, she started counting earnestly.

‘Just shy of five hundred quid.’ She announced. ‘Thought there would be nearer six.’ Betsy was scratching her head, frowning deeply.

Speaking more quietly as she gathered her thoughts she then added, ‘We’ve been dipped, fucking robbing cow!’ Freddie, lost for words clumsily grabbed some of the notes. He clenched his grubby fists then released the money which floated to the floor all crumpled.

‘Don’t you start you idiot. Put that money back, don’t know what gets into you these days.’ Roared Betsy.

This was too much for Betsy. She began to step backwards, she was losing her balance. Feeling queasy, she flopped back onto the chaise longue making Freddie reach for the smelling salts. They were always to hand on the occasional table inside a little engraved silver box. She was relieved to inhale a deep sniff.

When she had composed herself she launched into Freddie. ‘Why didn’t you know about this?’

Freddie stifled an embarrassed cough. ‘If it hadn’t been for Maurice, we wouldn’t have found out so quickly, I agree. I have followed Lou and Ellen a couple of times but they were just going to swag shops and cafes. Sooner or later we would have found her.’ He cleared his throat rather nervously and continued rambling, ‘Maurice wants a ‘do’ with the young ‘un. I hope Alice will come back to us. If she doesn’t return we will have to find another. I had to tell him though, that she’s gone missing and I fear he may be shying away from us, he’s got the wind up like, with her age and that. We’ve been good to that girl. I expect she’ll be starving by now and won’t be able to survive on her own in the town.’

‘Freddie, you are a numb skull! I wager that Alice is probably sitting in the nick right now spilling the beans to a copper. Lily is taking the bread out of our mouths and Maurice wants a
‘do’.
Stupid sod! Sometimes I wonder about you!’

Freddie wasn’t listening. He continued with a grin. ‘Unless someone’s got her chained up in a cellar somewhere.’ He broke into forced laughter, a laugh that Betsy found unbearable.

The look on her face said it all. Betsy didn’t see the funny side of any of it, particularly not Freddie’s remarks.

‘Don’t be so fucking stupid!’ She retorted. Even so Freddie licked his lips savouring the thought of Alice with a man.

‘I hope you’re not getting a thrill out of this, your mind’s in the gutter. Just so as you know, we may be able to bring the other Boyle girl here, I’ve been to see her mother. But, not until I’ve nobbled the judge before you and the other idiot go on trial. Oh and by the by, keep out of The George. We’re barred and besides, I don’t want anyone asking questions. First of all, I’m going to see the ginger haired one. She’s not robbing me and getting away with it. I am not having it and I will be paying her a visit, tomorrow!’

The following afternoon, she snatched her hat from the coat stand and pinned it on her head in a haphazard fashion. Betsy was off to Seymour Street. She turned left down Renshaw Street, then headed up Mount Pleasant. It was a long uphill walk but she was resolute. She had to stop here and there along the way, she was short of breath and her cough was impeding her. Nevertheless, she was determined to make it.

Just before she left, she had ordered Freddie to stop out of the way and discreetly watched the comings and goings, although recently, there weren’t as many coming. They had lost two girls which would naturally make a difference, but Freddie had noticed that numbers were dwindling. With takings being down and having been arrested, things were not going at all well for the Hales.

For once in his life, Freddie decided to get a grip. He was determined in his quest to cut down on the drink and opium. Now more than ever he needed a clear head. He felt they were losing control. It was as though the powerless were becoming powerful and he didn’t like it one bit.

Betsy was now standing on the steps of Lily’s four storey house. It was an imposing end property on the corner of Copperas Hill, the biggest house in the street. Betsy tried to calm the anger within her before she knocked on the door. She was flustered and out of breath. The story she had been told was a little unclear. She wondered whether or not Lily really had bought the property. If it had been bought, Betsy couldn’t fathom how on earth she could have afforded it, unless, of course, she had robbed her. She imagined it would be pricey and beyond her reach, therefore she must have ‘dipped’ her. She was only sure of one thing, she was about to spoil Lily’s afternoon.

She had made Freddie repeat, exactly word for word what Maurice had said. ‘
I believe that she’s acquired a property for herself, 55 Seymour Street.’

One thing was certain, Lily would be inviting men there whether it was rented or not.

The heavy knocker, the brass numbers and the letterbox were shiny. She pursed her lips as she was poised to give her the sharp end of her tongue. Betsy’s small hand grasped the knocker, her fingers were painful and knarled with arthritis. She gave three weak raps on the heavy black painted door. It was indeed a smart house, provoking an immediate feeling of resentment and jealousy from Betsy. In less than a minute Lily opened the door. She only pulled it slightly ajar, she was always cautious. She was clearly expecting someone else. Her ready smile soon contorted into a scowl. She was clearly most displeased to see the woman before her.

‘What the fuck do you want?’

‘You know full well why I’m here! I want me hundred quid!’ She demanded as she tensely wrung her hands. The sight of Lily made her feel a rush of anger from deep inside her.

‘A
hundred
quid?’ Get off my step and don’t come here again with your accusations, you old bag, go on get to fuck!’

‘So you admit it then? You red haired cow, you are a thief!’ Exclaimed Betsy.

‘This is a respectable neighbourhood and I’m not having this on my doorstep, get in here, you can stand in the hall.’ Lily hauled her in by the arm and shut the door. To a strong girl like Lily, Betsy was as light as a feather, as she dragged her in, her feet hardly touched the ground.

It was a narrow hallway and it took a few moments for Betsy’s eyes to adjust from the bright afternoon sunshine. Lily was amazed at how puny Betsy had become. This time Lily knew it was she who had the upper hand. Lily’s ramrod straight back made her tower head and shoulders over Betsy. She looked her up and down, then looked straight into her eyes. She was no longer frightened of this dreadful harridan who had bullied her and lived off her for years. She remembered how scared she had felt on the day she made her escape from Duke Street. She was afraid no more.

‘I’ll say this once and I won’t say it again Betsy Hale. Don’t you darken my door again, you old fiend, coming here with your accusations. You’ve been chiselling me for years and if either you or the other contemptuous rat ever come here I’ll pay someone to break your legs. Do you hear me? You’ve been breaking the law, selling the body of a child to dirty, filthy men. You are the vilest of the vile, the lowest of the low!’ Her voice was level, as she continued. ‘Have I made myself plain? If either of you come near me I’ll have the two you arrested or I’ll cripple the pair of you, whichever takes me fancy!’

Her message became even more chilling, ‘I’ll have your throats slit, you are villains who have lived off me for years.’ She slowly ran her finger across her throat, making Betsy gasp in horror. Betsy’s eyes were wild and bulging, she stepped back almost banging her head on the closed door. She grasped the latch, her fingers were trembling. Lily was smirking, enjoying seeing her squirm. Betsy wanted to make her escape.

Lily knocked her fumbling fingers out the way, opened the door and pushed her out into the bright sunshine. Betsy’s eyes were squinting in the day light. She stumbled down the steps and choked with fear. She was angry as she made her way back home at one point almost falling under a passing carriage. She never bothered Lily again. She was convinced that Alice’s disappearance had nothing to do with her. As for the money, Betsy had to put it under her foot.

It was the summer of 1900 in Aunty Margaret’s house. Margaret had gone back downstairs and had joined Jim in the kitchen. She was shortly followed down by Sophie who was dressed to go out. ‘You look very nice Sophie.’ Said Margaret warmly.

‘Thank you. I have to go out, I understand that I have an important assignment to fulfil.’

Margaret looked puzzled then Jim glanced at her with a look of reassurance. Sophie looked slightly impatient, then added, ‘I must go now.’ She turned and left, Jim smiled as he heard the front door click shut. Margaret was still perplexed and looked at Jim searchingly for an explanation.

‘Aunty, Larry will protect her. I know she believes, she knows the importance of her mission.’

‘I don’t know about that and I’m not sure that I follow you.’ Answered Margaret a trifle dismissively.

Margaret sighed as she reached for her sewing basket.

As Sophie stepped out, Aunty Margaret’s road was unusually quiet but something was amiss, this wasn’t the road she was in before. There were no children playing out and the pavement was free of people. There was an eerie silence. There were no horses nor carriages, no one was leaving nor entering the houses.

She felt totally alone… then the silence was broken by the sound of music and cries of excited people. The noise, in particular, the voices of children, became louder. The sound seemed to be coming from the end of the road, perhaps around the corner, but she couldn’t see anything. She began to walk towards the noise. In her new heavy clothes she felt slightly restricted, she was aware that she was walking more slowly than usual.

She felt the warmth of the afternoon sun on her face. She was intrigued and drawn to the music. The sound of the barrel organ became louder as she approached the end of the road. As she rounded the corner she stopped in her tracks and smiled. Amidst the music, yells and laughter, she saw a familiar figure. It was Larry.

Sophie was drawn towards him like a magnet, his powerful force seemed to envelop her. She had only just seen him in the mirror in Aunty Margaret’s house. She had seen him by her parents’ house in New Brighton and he had guided her onto the fairground caterpillar ride, twenty eight years in the future. Instinctively, she knew she could trust him.

The same throng of street revellers were with him, they were well dressed and looked happy. Then, she noticed another child in the group whom she had not seen before, she wasn’t with the other children in New Brighton. She was pretty, with fair hair, blue eyes. Sophie guessed that she was almost the same age as herself.

She was puzzled at first. This girl had a striking resemblance to her new friend Jim. ‘Could this be Alice?’ Wondered Sophie. Then it dawned on her that she had to be Alice, the sister who had been sold by their mother. The man with the top hat was smiling and nodding his head. Sophie felt he had read her thoughts.

He was beckoning her again, so she moved closer. He told her she had travelled back in time, back another thirteen years to a dark and dismal place. She then became one with the crowd she was drawn to.

‘Come with us. You will be safe with us! We need you!’ Larry stretched out his hands, his voice was strong and imploring. ‘When we arrive, I will tell you what has to be done.’

The dreaded day of the court appearance was fast approaching. Betsy had been in a foul mood for a couple weeks. On the day of the hearing she could hardly contain her temper. She was furious with Freddie, since the day he had been arrested, everything seemed to go wrong. Their cosy, debauched little world had been crumbling before them. Losing Lily was bad enough but the circumstances under which she had gone and the mystery of Alice’s disappearance was a raw nerve in her body.

Lou and Ellen tried to avoid her, they just got on with their business and kept a low profile. They had been slipping each client a sly note to let them know of Lily’s whereabouts. Lily was popular and they knew that their visitors would quickly be dwindling.

In the Boyle’s house the atmosphere was awful, Lottie had become even more unbearable to live with and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other women in the neighbourhood.

‘She’s got nerves her, you know.’ They didn’t care that Lottie could hear them. No one had any respect for the woman who drank herself into oblivion, the bad mother who neglected and abused her children. Sadly, in these separate territories assigned to poverty, it was all too common a tale.

The gossip from other women was always the same, ‘Well, she should stop her drinking then, she is a terrible mother.’ Lottie didn’t expect any sympathy, nor did she receive any from any soul around her. There were rumours that she’d sold her own daughter. People would talk and whisper allegations, from one end of the street to the other. No one believed that Alice had gone into service, but when it suited people they would turn a blind eye. Everyone had enough of their own problems, trying to survive and keep the wolf from the door. Most were scared of the police and authority. It was easier to do nothing. Alice’s disappearance had descended into a confusion of idle chit chat and innuendo. This narrow, mean, street was rife with rumours about the Boyles.

The only person who had ever helped Lottie was the kind pensioner who lived opposite. Sally was good to the children, she was benevolent. More than a good neighbour, she was like a grandmother to them.

‘I am going to clear this court!’ Bellowed the judge. It was indeed Judge Cuthbert Rees sitting as Stipendiary Magistrate.

‘The three wise monkeys.’ Thought Freddie cynically, as he stood in the dock with his co-accused partner in crime Mr. Charles Henry Boyle. In contrast to Freddie, Charlie was shabbily dressed. He didn’t have a suit to his name. The collar on his shirt was well worn and should have been thrown out to the rag and bone man years ago.