The massive expanse of waste ground behind ‘Cara’s Cottages’ belonged to no one that he could discern and Mr Harris, the estate agent, wondered why Cara Flowers had enquired about it. Over the months of their dealings with other properties, he had promised to direct his clients to use Martin Lander as their solicitor as Cara had promised to continue to use his agency. Mr Harris knew of the actions Cara had taken with regard to the workhouse and he admired her for it. He was also aware that for her to pursue her chosen task she would be on the lookout for any old buildings – and that’s where he came in.
Harris scanned his map of Bilston which lay on his desk. The patch of land Cara had indicated was shaped like the side of a house; floor, two sides and a pointed roof. It backed directly onto her cottages. One side was edged by Regent Street and the part which looked like a roof ran along the end of the allotment gardens. Behind this area was a larger patch still which abutted half the length of Proud’s Lane.
He thought whatever Cara Flowers intended for this scrubland would certainly be an improvement, and Harris had encouraged the young woman to stake her claim to this land with the local council before someone else did.
Folding the map, he dropped it into the drawer of his desk. He would be very interested to see how Cara’s next undertaking would pan out.
*
Martin Lander and Cara took a cab to the council offices. The local council, it seemed, owned the land she was interested in.
‘Well, Miss Flowers, that land does indeed belong to the council,’ the man sitting opposite her said, ‘and as far as I can tell there are no plans for its use. Therefore I can see no reason why it should not be sold to you.’
‘That’s marvellous!’ Cara gushed her thanks.
Telling her the asking price, the man was taken aback when Martin intervened. ‘That’s a great deal of money! Rather too much, I would say!’
Cara glanced at Martin, saying, ‘I do need that land, Martin, but as you say, it is rather a lot of money.’ Turning to face the council officer again, she said, ‘That land is turning into scrubland and, as you point out, there are no further intentions for its use. Therefore, I will offer you half the amount you have asked.’ Holding up a hand to prevent the man’s counterargument, she went on, ‘Consider… empty waste space which no one else wants and you can’t be rid of or… money in the bank and the millstone shifted from around your neck.’
Lander smiled as he watched her bargain for the land.
‘You have a very valid point there, Miss Flowers. I have to agree, hanging on to the land would not benefit the council in any way.’ Looking down at the paperwork then back to the girl, he added, ‘Therefore I concede. You may buy the land for your proposed amount.’ The council officer smiled as he stood to shake hands with the young woman who had stood her ground, so to speak. He had heard of this girl and was very pleased to see her wanting to help.
Cara beamed her happiness. ‘I will arrange for a banker’s draft immediately. You will have your money this very afternoon.’
‘Miss Flowers, may I ask your intentions for the land you have just purchased?’ The man asked as he signed the relevant documentation before passing it to Martin to witness.
Cara told him what she had in mind.
The man nodded then said, ‘Everyone in the town is talking of your good work, you are well known for your achievements.’ He saw Cara smile shyly and the blush rise to her cheeks. ‘You and I have agreed a deal here today and although your money is not yet in the council coffers, I am entrusting the deeds to the land to you right now.’ Standing up, he extended his hand. ‘Good luck with the land, Miss Flowers, I hope all works out well for you.’
Cara clutched the deeds tightly as they left the building and she chatted excitedly to Martin about her new acquisition on their journey home.
As they travelled, Cara told him of the meeting with the Chairman of the Board of Guardians later in the week and asked if he would be present. He assured her he would be delighted. She told him she was nervous about the upcoming meeting, not being at all sure how to handle herself, but his attendance and support would ease her worry somewhat.
Once more at home, Cara pondered her next move. She knew she now needed workers. She intended to turn the waste land into allotment plots for growing fruit and vegetables, thus providing work for more men to whom she would pay a small wage whilst they were being set up. But unfortunately she was unable to get the other men in the workhouse released as she had no more accommodation available. She had gone over her bank account figures and she had enough to invest in buying more housing for the workers. Knowing her family’s buying and selling of property over the years had ensured that Cara was now very wealthy, however she still needed to keep a wary eye on those figures. The last thing she needed was to run out of money before completing her task. She smiled as she realized the buying up of property appeared to run in the family.
The following day Cara hailed a cab and told the driver she would hire him for the day provided he didn’t mind waiting for her at times. The driver was more than happy to oblige the pretty young woman who was working so hard for those in need of her help.
Cara’s first port of call the following morning was with Mr Harris to collect the list of available properties he’d drawn up. He had told her it would be waiting for her at his office. And indeed it was.
Showing the paper to the cabbie, she asked his advice on the best way to visit all the properties on the list. Scanning the names, the cabbie pointed to each street in turn, and Cara climbed aboard to begin their journey.
The carriage rumbled through the streets slowly, every now and then manoeuvring around carts and people shuffling along. Cara was on her way to Brook Street which lay just around the corner from Gozzard Street. There were five houses vacant and she was eager to see them. These buildings stood on the corner where Brook Street met Temple Street. Climbing out of the carriage, Cara cast an eye over each. They were locally known as two-up two-down, having a kitchen and living room downstairs and two bedrooms upstairs. Each house was joined to the next and had a front and back door. One entry which led to the back of each house stood at the end of the row. The houses were in a sorry state; roof tiles missing and window frames rotting away. Was it possible they would be habitable whilst renovations were underway? She needed every property she could lay her hands on so she would just have to find a way to make it work.
Cara climbed back into the cab, and it rolled along to its next destination. Chapel Street crossed the bottom of Temple Street so the journey was short. Out of the eight houses on one side of the street, four lay empty. Again, badly in need of repair, they were very much like the others she had viewed. Nine possibilities so far, all of which would need a lot of work doing to them.
The carriage left Chapel Street, crossing the busy main thoroughfare which was Oxford Street then came to a halt in Hare Street. Here four houses and what looked to have once been a warehouse or small factory stood in the shadows. She wondered why so many properties were standing empty? Maybe Mr Harris would know. She made a mental reminder to ask him.
Cara looked over each building. The yards were full of rubbish and the smell emanating caused her nose to wrinkle in disgust. She began to worry that the buildings were too far gone to be of use. Some had the remnants of what were once chimneys. Others had doors missing completely and their windows were smashed. The quarry floor tiles were lifting and would need to be replaced. The whitewash was peeling from the walls and mildew grew in abundance. The brickwork was black with the fine coal dust that seemed to coat everything. They were dark inside and Cara seriously wondered if they could be turned around and made into comfortable homes. But then, even the state they were in was preferable to the workhouse… wasn’t it?
Shaking her head in dismay, Cara asked the cabbie to move on to the next street. Here she climbed out to look at the buildings. These were in a dire condition, there was nothing left in the gaps where window frames had once stood. Standing back she noted half of the roof tiles were missing. Some had walls which were crumbling to the ground, they were complete ruins. They were very unsafe and she sighed as she discounted them completely. Climbing back into the cab, she asked to be returned to Harris’s office. Thirteen houses and a small factory – how much was Mr Harris willing to sell them for? Certainly they were in worse condition than the others she had purchased and she was determined to remind Mr Harris of that fact.
Once more in the estate agent’s office, Cara asked, ‘Mr Harris, why are there so many empty properties down in that particular area?’
Pulling out the street map, the man spread it on the desk before her. Coming round to stand next to where she sat, he traced a finger over the area she had just visited. ‘As you can see, Gozzard Street is here and Brook Street here. Chapel Street and Hare Street are further down here. Now about ten years ago, scarlet fever broke out in that district and the council cordoned it all off. They didn’t know what else to do, so the whole area was put into quarantine as advised by the doctors.’ He pointed his finger and ran it around the square of streets, showing its enforced perimeter.
Returning to his own seat, he continued. ‘It was a dreadful time, no one was allowed in or out of that area for fear of the illness spreading to the rest of the town. The police patrolled and the council had to leave food by the fence they erected. Only one doctor volunteered to treat the sick.’ He shook his head sadly at the memory. ‘The fever ravaged the area and whole families succumbed. By the end, very few had survived, fortunately the doctor was one of them.’
‘Good grief!’ Cara said her hand on her chest. ‘That’s awful, those poor people!’ After a moment of scanning the map again, she realized just how many people must have died of the disease. Then she asked, ‘Why did the properties remain empty?’
‘Folk were afraid, Cara. Even though the doctor assured everyone the fever had died out, and the fence was removed, people stayed away from the area. They had seen whole streets of families taken to meet their maker, and they didn’t wish to join them.’ Mr Harris’s voice held a sadness as he spoke. ‘Eventually, people came to Bilston from other towns and, not knowing the terrible history of the area, some took up residence, but a lot of the houses remained empty. I’m not sure the areas will ever be revived.’
‘Look Mr Harris, if I can buy these properties, I assure you I will fill them with people. I will give the area a new lease of life!’ Cara’s excitement began to rise.
‘I can only wish you good luck, but you may well be buying a pig-in-a-poke.’ Mr Harris saw her frown, not understanding what he meant. ‘Let me explain. Even if you buy these buildings, people, even those from the workhouse, may not wish to live in them. Then you’ll have the same problem as me… empty houses no one will move into.’
‘We’ll see about that, Mr Harris, you let me have these properties and then watch what I do with them.’ Cara was determined not to back down on this.
Eventually Mr Harris conceded. Her contention was – money in his pocket was preferable to having empty buildings on his books. Houses that no one else was interested in. Properties, although almost derelict, she could put to good use and… Mr Harris would be helping in her quest to aid the poor of the town. She left the office as the new owner of properties in the three streets she had visited.
*
Cara had devilment in her and decided not to make an appointment at the ‘Spike’, she would just arrive and hope the ‘delightful’ Mr Tulley would grant her an interview with the inmates. Her confidence was increasing day by day and with each property bought it meant more folk released from the soul-destroying drudgery of the workhouse.
The cab rolled up to the large gate and Cara climbed out. Paying the cabbie, she turned to see the porter had opened the gate to allow her entry. He was unaware she was not expected by the workhouse Master. By now he was used to her comings and goings.
Hammering on the oak door inside, Cara waited. It was opened by the same rail-thin woman, who gave her a wan smile before leading her to the office.
Tulley inwardly fumed at the audacity of the young woman now standing before him.
‘Miss Flowers,’ he growled, ‘it is customary to make an appointment, as well you know!’ Cara nodded and placed ten pounds on the desk. She watched his greedy eyes covet the money. ‘However,’ Tulley looked up at her, ‘as we have conducted business on previous occasions, I see no reason why we should not do so again. I am incapacitated as you see…’ he indicated his sling, ‘…so perhaps you might see yourself to the yard. I’m sure you know the way by now.’ In reality Tulley, even having given his injury as an excuse, couldn’t be bothered to act as this woman’s guide.
‘I do, sir, but I feel it would be highly inappropriate to wander around your workhouse alone. You are the Master here after all…’ Cara smiled sweetly.
Getting to his feet reluctantly, Tulley left the money untouched on the desk and led the way to the bone and stone yard, where Cara’s appearance stopped work immediately. They all knew who this lady was and if stopping work irked the Master, they didn’t care. Cara Flowers was far more important to them at the moment. It was she who could get them out of this place, and they were desperate to be the next to be taken out. The men gathered around her, taking care not to dirty her clothes.
Tulley retreated into the doorway once more, his mind on the money on his desk.
‘Gentlemen,’ Cara said as she looked around her. Each man nodded a response. ‘You are all aware of my ultimate goal…’ More nods. ‘All those with children are now out of this place. Therefore if you have a wife in here please wait by the door.’ She knew there were no children left in the workhouse, so it would be husbands and wives and possibly single men and women.
Five men shuffled over to where Tulley stood shaking his head.
‘Good. Five houses allocated. Now the rest of you I take it are single men?’ She watched as the nods came again. ‘I have eight more houses very badly in need of repair…’ The men looked around, making a mental head count. ‘I can take eight of you out with me today or, if you are prepared to share a house, we can double that figure.’
Shuffling feet pushed closer to her as she scanned the faces. She noted there were more than double that number remaining. Every pair of eyes were watching her as she faced the dilemma of who to choose. The younger men, whilst rake thin, still had some colour in their faces, there was some strength left in their bodies, but the older men were hunched over at the shoulders. Their skin was pallid and drawn and she knew these would have to be the first to come out with her.
‘I have decided to take the older members of your group first, but rest easy in the knowledge I will come back for those of you remaining.’ Her heart ached at the disappointed faces of the men left behind, but she would get them out as soon as she could.
Tulley led Cara and the men back to his office and whilst he put each through the signing out procedure, Cara was dismissed to wait outside the gate.
Pacing back and forth, her frustration began to mount at having to wait, but she knew it would be worth it in the end.
Three hours later, twenty one men and five women walked through the wrought-iron gate to greet her. The joy of their being released eased Cara’s tension and she smiled a returned greeting. Explaining her intentions, Cara led the happy group towards their new homes and their new lives.
As the group neared the area they were heading for, quiet mutterings began and the pace slowed. Cara stopped when a woman spoke up. ‘Miss Flowers, am we going to the “black area”?’
Cara asked in return, ‘The “black area”?’
‘Ar,’ the woman went on, ‘the place the scarlet fever raged.’
Cara sighed heavily, she had hoped these people would be so glad to be out of the ‘Spike’ they might not question where they were headed. Now she was faced with having to answer the woman’s question and convince them all it was perfectly safe.
Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Yes, but please understand, the properties are perfectly safe now.’
‘I ain’t so sure,’ the woman said, ‘don’t misunderstand me, Miss Flowers, we’m all very grateful for what you’re trying to do, but…’
Cara’s eye roamed the twenty six people stood around her, looking on anxiously. Now what would she do? Mr. Harris’s prediction was coming true. These people were afraid.
Looking around her, Cara said, ‘Right, come with me.’ She led them a short way down Queen Street and out onto a patch of scrubland. ‘Now, I need you to wait here for me. I need to do a quick errand and I won’t be long. I will be back in half an hour.’ Taking some money from her bag, she gave it to one of the men. ‘Go along to the Prince of Wales pub and get a few jugs of beer to share. I’ll be back before you’ve drunk it.’
The women sat on the wasteland as the men made for the pub. Cara walked briskly back along the street. Hailing a cab sat waiting for a fare, she gave the driver the address she needed to go to.
True to her word, Cara arrived back half an hour later with Dr Cooper at her side. She smiled to see the people chatting and laughing, the beer obviously having gone straight to their heads. It was no wonder, drinking beer on an empty stomach was not a good idea. She should have suggested food, but it was all she could think of at the time and at least the people didn’t look so worried.
As she and the doctor had travelled in the cab, she had explained her predicament and had asked the doctor to have a word with the frightened people.
Standing before them now, while Cara asked the cabbie to wait to return the doctor to his home, Dr Cooper began to speak. ‘Right then, Miss Flowers has told me what’s going on here, so I’ve come along to explain to you. The scarlet fever can be caught by breathing in bacteria from an infected person, by touching the rash on their skin or from sharing their clothes and bed linen. The symptoms are sore throat, headache, a swollen tongue in some cases and a rash on the chest which spreads over the rest of the body. Infection lasts for a couple of weeks after these symptoms appear.’ Dr Cooper watched as the people looked at each other then resumed. ‘When this occurred in the “black area”, it was not diagnosed quickly enough unfortunately, and many people died before the illness ran its course. However, I’m here to tell you… you cannot catch scarlet fever from a building!’
As applause sounded out, Cara thanked the doctor as he climbed into the cab. As she turned back to the people sitting on the scrubland, she was relieved when the woman who had spoken before said, ‘Right, you men, get those jugs back to the pub and hurry it up. Miss Flowers ain’t got all day!’ As the men scrambled to their feet, the woman turned to Cara with a big smile. ‘Thanks for that,’ she said, ‘We all feel better about it now.’
Cara returned the woman’s smile while they waited for the men to return from the pub. Maybe Mr Harris would be proven wrong after all.
*
Fred Tulley stared at the ten pounds Cara Flowers had left on his desk. He knew for certain now what she was up to. It was her intention to close the ‘Spike’ and she was attempting to accomplish this by emptying the place.
Fred pondered the twenty six people he had just released and wondered how far the young woman’s money would stretch. If Miss Flowers managed to get the majority of inmates released, housed and in work – would the Local Government Board close the place down? Surely they would not keep it open for a handful of residents? Indeed not. Fred Tulley considered the prospect. Maybe it was time to move on, to find employment elsewhere. He didn’t want to wake up one morning and find himself out of a job, or worse… an inmate in his own workhouse!
The more he thought on the matter, the more the idea appealed to him. He could just take off. He could take the money he and Ada had saved and do a ‘moonlight flit’. Best of all, he could leave his wife behind. Freedom from Ada and the ‘Spike’ beckoned and Fred felt the stirrings of excitement begin to grow.
In the meantime, Ada Tulley had been thinking much the same thing as she sat in her living room, beer in hand. Her husband had tried to murder her and she knew it was just a matter of time before he succeeded. However, life was a great deal harder for a woman alone. Where would she go? What would she do? How would she live? Ada was also aware that at the rate the workhouse was emptying, her position as Matron was under threat. Yes, folk were still trickling into the place, but they were leaving at a faster rate!
Supping on her beer, Ada considered her options. She could up and leave Fred to it or she could stay and see what the future brought. The decision was a difficult one and she pondered it long and hard. Eventually the only conclusion she came to was to have another beer!