Joseph Purcell stepped from his carriage outside the row of dwellings now known as ‘Cara’s Cottages’. He had been the Magistrate for Bilston town for the last ten years and Chairman of the Board of Guardians for five of those ten. He had heard about the young Miss Cara Flowers and wanted to see for himself how the former inmates of the ‘Spike’ were faring in their new environment.
A shrill whistle bounced off the cottages, an alert to the mothers from the children that a stranger had arrived. As one, a line of women moved to the front of their houses, arms crossed over chests. Seeing the stranger, their body posture remained rigid. The husbands came forward too and, after introducing himself, Joseph Purcell shook the hand of each man.
‘I see the work is coming on,’ he said as he looked at the buildings. He gave a thin smile as a chair was dragged outside for him; he noted he was not about to be invited inside.
After tea and cake, he spoke again: ‘I have heard a great deal about Cara Flowers and her work, and I wished to see for myself how you good people are faring in your new homes.’
Joseph asked questions of the new residents: were they paying rent? How could they afford that as they had no jobs? Would their children be attending school? Did the men anticipate finding work? How did they feel about Cara being their landlady?
All very forthright questions, and it was one of the women who gave him a forthright answer. ‘Now you look here, Mr Purcell, you can ask as many questions as you like but we ain’t giving you no answers.’ Rumbles of assertive agreement sounded.
‘I was just enquiring…’ Purcell began, but the woman cut him off.
‘Cara Flowers has been bloody good to us,’ she spread her arms to encompass the little group, ‘so what makes you think we would betray her trust by telling you her business? What goes on between us and her is our business and no one else’s. I don’t know what it is you want here, but whatever it is, you won’t get it from us. I, for one, won’t have anything said against that young wench!’
When the applause died down, Purcell said, ‘Obviously I have not made myself clear, which has raised suspicion of my visit. I came only to congratulate you all, and praise Miss Flowers for the marvellous work she has undertaken.’
As Purcell said his goodbye and climbed into his carriage to leave, the mutterings began once more.
The men and women remained sceptical at his unannounced visit. They didn’t trust the man, for all he was a magistrate. He was fishing in their pool for information… why? What was he up to? They later agreed it would be wise to let Cara know the next time she called.
Joseph leaned back in the carriage seat and pondered what he saw as a wasted half an hour. The residents had told him nothing more than he’d already heard on the town grapevine. That Cara had been tasked by her dying grandmother to find and care for any living relatives. She had found two members of her family and was indeed looking after them. She was on a mission – that much was evident – to help the poor of the town and had set her sights on the workhouse. What was she up to? Why the workhouse? There were more than enough poor folk in the town she could aid. Joseph couldn’t help but admire the woman’s tenacity and ingenuity. Then he chided himself for such a thought, women should really stay at home and attend to their children, they should not be poking their noses in men’s business.
Miss Flowers had become great friends with Martin Lander, too, Purcell had heard. The brilliant young lawyer had been in his courthouse many times and Joseph felt he was a man to reckon with.
As for Cara, Joseph thought he would like to meet her. He wanted to know precisely why she had such a keen interest in the workhouse. As the carriage rumbled over the cobbled streets he made his decision. He would write to this young woman and ask if he may call on her sometime… in his official capacity of course!
*
Martin Lander had eventually found a property in Earle Street, just two streets away from where he lived, and was busy setting up his business there. Mr Harris had been most helpful in suggesting the new location for the solicitor’s office.
He thought about Cara and how she had now bought the twenty houses and the shops in Gozzard Street which had stood empty in a part of town which appeared to be dying. She fully intended to revitalize the area by moving families in who would renovate the buildings and maybe open small businesses eventually. He smiled as he manoeuvred furniture into place in his new premises. He knew she would snap up those empty buildings and, sure enough, she had. His smile turned to a grin when he remembered her driving a hard bargain with Harris regarding the price. Cara was turning out to be a shrewd businesswoman.
*
In the meantime, Cara decided to telephone the workhouse. ‘Good morning Mr Tulley,’ Cara said into the telephone.
‘Miss Flowers,’ Fred’s voice was followed by a huge sigh, causing Cara to smile.
‘I would like to make an appointment to visit please,’ she said.
‘I’m afraid there’s been an incident so you will have to wait a while.’ Tulley’s voice sounded tired.
‘I see. Then I will wait until after the weekend. Thank you, Mr Tulley.’ Cara heard a grunt before the connection went dead.
Wondering what the incident could have been, she was startled by a knock on her front door as she walked past it from the hall to the kitchen. Opening the door wide, she was faced with a stout woman wearing a hat with an enormous feather sticking out at an odd angle. The woman nodded and the feather bobbed.
‘Miss Flowers?’ the woman asked in a no-nonsense manner.
‘Yes,’ Cara answered, unable to draw her eyes from the bobbing feather. The woman was not well off, as could be seen by her old high-neck blouse and long skirt with a patch on the side.
‘My name is Bertha Jenkins, and until yesterday I was the cook at the workhouse.’ Bertha’s hands were crossed and lay on her ample stomach.
‘Please Mrs Jenkins, won’t you come in and have some tea?’ Cara urged. As she led the way to the kitchen, Cara wondered if the incident at the workhouse had involved this woman in some way. With Daisy and Charlie playing in the garden, Cara introduced the woman to Gracie Cox and Molly Barton.
‘I’ve been hearing a lot about you and your good deeds, Miss Flowers,’ the woman said.
‘Cara, please call me Cara… and thank you.’
‘Bertha.’ The nod of the head confirmed they should use her given name. ‘I know about you trying to get them poor buggers out of that place… beggin’ your pardon.’ Bertha apologized for what she felt may be inappropriate language. Cara nodded that no slight had been taken and Bertha continued. ‘I have things to tell you that will make your hair curl!’
Gracie and Molly leaned forward in their seats in their eagerness to hear what Bertha Jenkins was about to divulge.
*
Fred Tulley had called in the doctor, who was now wrapping a bandage around the arm with the stab wound. Folding a sling, he tied it at the back of Tulley’s neck before gently placing the arm to rest inside.
‘There, that should hold it nicely. Now I think you should inform Purcell of what has occurred.’ Seeing Fred’s horror-stricken face, he added, ‘Either you do… or I will.’
Leaving it at that, the doctor turned to Ada who was moaning in pain. ‘Right, Ada, let’s have a look at that shoulder.’
‘Ooooh…!’ Ada groaned as the doctor cut the sleeve from her dress in order to assess the damage. ‘That bastard stabbed me!’ she howled.
‘I believe it was in retaliation, Mrs Tulley, according to your husband anyway. Now hold still while I take a look at your wound.’ The doctor’s patience was wearing thin with all that was going on. His mind wandered as he worked, maybe it was time for he, himself, to quit his post at the workhouse.
As he worked, he listened as Fred informed the Chairman of the Board of Guardians, over the telephone, that there had been a terrible accident. Dr Cooper smiled to himself. The Tulleys were in a pickle now and he wondered how they would talk themselves out of this one.
With no cook to instruct in the kitchen, the inmates, unsure of what to do, had argued about whether to make breakfast themselves. Eventually, hunger won out and they began to settle, each to their own job. No thin porridge made with water this morning, but thick creamy oatmeal with sugar sprinkled on top! A large chunk of fresh bread accompanied each bowl served to every person in the building. The Matron was nowhere to be seen, so gossip was passed without hesitation about all the yelling and screaming they’d heard take place. Mothers sobbed their joy at seeing their children again and hugged them freely and fiercely. Husbands and wives spent a few tender moments together before the next sitting was due in. They knew whatever was keeping Ada Tulley occupied, it wouldn’t be too long before she was back, so they relished the time they had.
Joseph Purcell arrived disgruntled at having been woken so early. Dropping into a chair in the boardroom, he snapped, ‘Right Tulley, explain!’ Joseph’s eyes remained on the Master standing before him, his arm in a sling. He ignored the Matron, who also wore a sling, and the doctor who stood behind Tulley.
‘Well sir, it’s like this… Mrs Tulley… that is to say, my wife…’ Fred was at a loss as to how to explain.
Stepping forward, Dr Cooper saved him the bother saying quickly, ‘Mrs Tulley was drunk… again! She stabbed Mr Tulley who then stabbed her in return. Oh… and the cook has resigned!’ Screwing up his mouth, he dropped his chin, his body language screamed… ‘Ha!’
Joseph Purcell stared in disbelief. After a moment he stood, and as he walked out he called over his shoulder, ‘I will convene an emergency meeting at two o’clock this afternoon! Everybody be there!’
Dr Cooper shook his head as they filed out of the room; the Tulleys had begun to bicker again as they followed behind him.
‘You started it…’
‘It was your fault…’
‘If you weren’t drunk…’
‘Oh, put a sock in it…’
Dr Cooper whirled on the argumentative pair. ‘Will you both… shut the hell up!’ Then he stamped away, leaving the open-mouthed Tulleys in his wake.
*
The Board members had discussed the incident at great length before the doctor and the Tulleys had been invited into the boardroom to join them.
‘Mr Tulley,’ Joseph spoke confidently, ‘this is the second time we have had to call an emergency meeting. This sort of thing simply cannot go on! I must warn you, if anything like this should happen again, the Board will have no option but to see you dismissed!’
Dr Cooper fumed, Tulley was going to get away with it again! He muttered sarcastically, ‘Naughty boy, don’t do it again.’
Joseph’s eyes moved to the doctor. ‘Dr Cooper, do you have something to say?’
‘Actually I do.’ The doctor stepped forward. ‘This man and his drunkard of a wife are not fit to run this institution!’
‘Dr Cooper, please confine your comments to medical matters only as that is your profession.’ Purcell kept his voice calm.
Dr Cooper did not however, and his voice boomed out. ‘I did that once before if you remember, regarding the death of the Townsend child, but nothing was done about that!’
‘This is an entirely different matter,’ Joseph said.
‘I was called in on both occasions, which means both incidents were medically related… a connection there I think?’ The doctor’s voice dripped sarcasm.
‘We digress,’ Joseph said, trying to regain control of the situation. ‘What we have to decide upon now is how to handle this matter quietly.’
Again Dr Cooper jumped in. ‘Quietly! Mr Purcell the “matter” of the cook leaving is the talk of the town! Everyone is aware your cook has walked out and her reason for doing so. It won’t be long before word is out that the Master and Matron have tried to kill each other!’
‘That cannot be allowed to happen, Dr Cooper!’ Purcell began to lose his cool demeanour.
‘Mr Purcell, word will get out… like it or not. Then will follow how these two…’ The doctor tilted his head towards the Tulleys, ‘… have been treating the inmates. They have overworked and underfed them. They have beaten the children…’
Purcell held up his hands for silence, but the doctor was in full swing.
‘Oh no Mr Purcell! I will not be silenced again! The Townsend child died of food poisoning which, as you know, was noted on her death certificate. In effect, she was murdered, albeit inadvertently!’
Gasps sounded around the room as the doctor continued. ‘Mrs Tulley is known to be drunk every night. Yes, I am the medical officer for this facility but only because no other bloody doctor would take on the job! Mr Purcell, members of the Board, Mr and Mrs Tulley…’ He looked at each in turn then resumed speaking. ‘I resign my post as medical officer to the workhouse as of this moment!’ Dr Cooper smiled, turned on the spot military style and walked out.
‘Now what the hell do we do?’ Joseph Purcell asked his esteemed colleagues who were shaking their heads in disbelief at the turn of events. ‘Well something has to be done otherwise you’ll lose your jobs on the Board… more to the point, I will lose mine as Chairman! No job, no money, and no perks, you best think about that, and soon!’