SATURDAY DAWNED BRIGHT and clear. The snow had finally exhausted itself and Sally’s walk to work was through a sea of grey-black slush. Carts crawled along the patchwork of icy cobbles; the horses’ safety was paramount. A slip of a hoof could, she knew, claim not only the beast’s life but a driver’s family when no work meant no food and coal.
In biting temperatures, with dwellings often as cold as the streets, inhabitants clung to life grimly, praying for spring. Many, particularly the young, old and infirm, wouldn’t see this spell through.
‘Spare a penny, missis?’
This, delivered through a beggar boy’s chattering teeth, no longer shocked her as it had when she first arrived in this town.
Children fortunate to own clogs had enjoyed the white blanket that encompassed their world; the lanes had rung with screeching laughter. Others, who worked the streets trading everything from their bodies to kindling – and those like this bundle of bones shivering beneath old newspaper in a doorway, bare feet probably plagued by burning chilblains – no doubt hadn’t shared the fascination.
‘Ha’penny, then?’
Yesterday’s performance with the Sharps had wrapped around her a veil of dejection. She’d lain awake all night, dreading returning. Why was nothing ever simple? Why had she always suffered so? Why were a select few born into a life of privilege and ease while others were clawing for survival upon leaving the womb?
The morose thoughts had swamped her yet now, looking at these people around her, skin blue, eyes utterly void of hope in sallow faces, Sally felt ashamed.
‘Missis, please. My guts ain’t known grub since Thursday.’
Lord, what had she to gripe about? Her clothes and boots, though thin and patched, dulled the edge of the cold. She’d suffered the workhouse then as Joseph’s wife, but was free of both. Countless children were lost but she had Jonathan. Evil drove her from Spring Row but she now had a safe home. Her parents had passed away but she had Aunt Grace, Uncle Ed, cousins. Dicksy had gone but she had solid friends in Ivy and her family, and potential ones in Con and Maggie Benson.
And she had her job. Though it wasn’t the most enjoyable, nor safest, many would give their eye teeth to be earning an honest crust. No, things were never as bad as they seemed.
She pressed a coin into the beggar’s hand and continued on her way.
Tomorrow, her day off, she was determined to make the most of. She’d visit Maggie. She couldn’t wait to see her and hoped she’d found another position. She’d take Jonathan. Spending time with him would be lovely and Grace deserved a break.
Also, Con was calling. She was rather looking forward to that, was glad she’d decided to try his friendship. There were things she didn’t know about him but then, there were things he didn’t know about her. However, he was a decent man who deserved a chance.
Entering the shop, she found Pru busy behind the counter. When she closed the door and Pru didn’t turn, she bit her lip. She usually greeted Sally warmly; was she cross about last night? She should never have slung the poker through the window or spoken to the old woman as she did. From where had that spark of courage come? It seemed the old Sally, that feisty, defiant girl who, mindless of the consequences, thought nothing of standing up to the workhouse matron – master, too – with bunched fists and eyes, and tongue spitting venom, was slowly but surely resurfacing, whether she liked it or not.
Nevertheless, what went on with mother and daughter was between them. From now on, unless Pru asked for her help, she’d keep out of their affairs.
‘Miss Sharp, my conduct last night … I’m so very sorry. I simply loathe one suffering at another’s hand, for I know how it feels. It will never happen again.’
Still, Pru didn’t turn.
Sally lowered her head. Would she dismiss her?
‘Don’t apologise, dear. You have nothing to be sorry for.’
Her head jerked up. She sighed in relief. ‘I’m truly sorry, Miss Sharp, I— Oh!’ The word ripped from her throat as Pru turned.
‘I’m quite all right. It looks worse than it is,’ Pru murmured, hands fluttering to her face.
Sally covered her mouth in horror. Pru’s face was badly swollen. Her gentle eyes peeped through puffy slits and dark bruises streaked the skin in livid patches.
‘Can I get you a cup of tea, dear?’
‘A cup …? Miss Sharp, what on earth has happened to you?’ She shook her head slowly. ‘That wicked old woman did this, didn’t she? What is wrong with her? She could have killed you!’
Pru’s split lips parted but whatever she’d been about to say remained unspoken.
Glaring at the ceiling, Sally was consumed with fury. Moments later, she was sprinting upstairs. She burst into Agnes’s room, strode to the bed and stared in disgust at the sleeping form.
‘Sally, please.’
Glancing to the doorway, her face softened. Pru was wringing her hands furiously, eyes wide in desperation.
‘If you question her, you’ll make matters worse for me. Please, dear.’
She shot Agnes a last look then followed Pru downstairs. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Sharp,’ she said when they reached the shop. ‘Of course I don’t want to make things more difficult for you. It’s just … She cannot get away with treating people like this!’
Pru patted the stool beside hers. ‘Come, sit down. We shouldn’t be disturbed. No one will be in to redeem possessions until they receive their wages, later.’
‘Is this about last night? Did she take it out on you because of my actions?’
‘No, no, dear. Don’t blame yourself. It’s entirely my fault. I foolishly continued the argument after you left. You would think I’d have learned by now, wouldn’t you?’
Recalling their exchange, she frowned. ‘Miss Sharp, I couldn’t fail to hear what your mother said regarding … a man? It’s none of my business but if you ever want to talk …’
‘Thank you, dear. She hasn’t mentioned … that, in a while. She brings it up now and then to hurt me. And Lord, her words do hurt. Far more than the feel of that poker. She believes it a necessary measure; spare the rod, spoil the child, so to speak.’ A small sigh escaped. ‘I’m able to ignore most of what she says, but not that.
‘It’s the one thing she knows will garner a reaction. And I fall for it every time.’ She patted Sally’s hand. ‘You’re a lovely person. I appreciate your concern, truly. One day, I may take up your kind offer and release my demons. But not yet. The memories are very raw, dear.’
Sally covered her hand with hers. ‘I understand, Miss Sharp.’
‘Mother will shortly be awake. Go on up and I shall bring you both some tea. And Sally, please don’t mention this, will you?’ Pru entreated, pointing to her face.
Sally sighed inwardly. How was she to bear that woman’s company? She’d love nothing more than to shake her awake, give her a piece of her mind, leave and never return. But she couldn’t. She needed this job, and Pru needed her.
‘I won’t, you have my word. But Miss Sharp, what will you do?’ she couldn’t help asking. ‘You cannot continue living in fear of her beating you whenever the mood strikes. I lived that way for a long time and it near killed me.’
‘It shan’t happen again, dear. If she ever mentions … I’m determined not to rise to it. I have no choice. She has no one in the world but me. I must simply grit my teeth and get on with it.’
Heart heavy with pity, Sally reluctantly headed upstairs.
The level of poverty in Manchester was like nothing Tommy had encountered. Since he’d stepped from the train and met the abjectness of Sally’s new home, an ache had taken root in his chest. Settling back in the hansom hailed outside the station, he prayed Ancoats wasn’t as bad as the parts he’d already seen.
He didn’t have a clue how he’d find her. Unsure where to begin, he’d simply instructed the driver to drop him ‘somewhere in Ancoats’. The man had scratched his head and stared at him as if he were mad. But when Tommy raised an eyebrow and jingled coins in his pocket, he’d shrugged and told him to hop aboard.
Rattling through the streets, Tommy kept his eyes peeled. It was a long shot but he might just spot her; she could be anywhere, after all. His breathing quickened at the prospect. The urge to see her was like coiled rope in his stomach, tightening, tightening. He felt like a man possessed. Nothing would stop him until he found her.
His mother’s smile returned to haunt him and he gripped the seat. He’d lied to her again; only this time, he’d gone further – he’d used Dolly as an alibi.
Unable to think up an excuse, he’d informed her he was off to see the dairymaid. Then, remembering his previous lie, that she couldn’t come to dinner because she was needed at the dairy, he amended his words, adding he’d wait at Dolly’s until she returned from work. His mother hadn’t suspected a thing. How he’d kept his tone even, his fixed smile in place, he didn’t know.
What he did know was that he hated himself for it. Lately, the lies flowed and it worried him. Being deceitful wasn’t in his nature. Yet where Sally was concerned, he couldn’t help himself.
They turned into a road teeming with carts and people. Reasoning the busier the place, the better the chance of someone having heard of her, he tapped the cab, alighted and stared about.
The sheer magnitude of his task slammed home. He hadn’t thought this through at all. After working a half-day then travelling here, the day was almost through. If he had no joy, he’d seek a lodging house and try tomorrow, he resolved.
As for his overnight absence, he’d tell his parents that after leaving Dolly, he’d met a pit lad at a tavern and, after too many jars, was unable to make it home and had bedded down at his cottage. His mother wouldn’t be best pleased but he’d face her tongue when the time came. Right now, all he could think of was finding Sally.
Questions tumbled over themselves in his mind, each more worrying than the last. Was she even here? Perhaps, unable to locate her aunt, she’d moved on.
As he turned from the roadside, a hand brushed his buttocks and hot breath fanned his neck. Jerking around, he saw a woman of indeterminate age, gaudily painted face fixed in a seductive smile.
‘By gum, lad, you’re easy on t’ eye. You looking for some fun?’
He peeled her arms from his waist, his colour rising. That she was a streetwalker didn’t surprise or embarrass him; he’d seen plenty in Bolton in his time. It was being propositioned in broad daylight that rendered him speechless. Prostitutes usually loitered in back lanes, attainable yet concealed. And this clearly wasn’t a random act; people passing barely batted an eyelid.
‘I know somewhere warm and dry we could go.’ Her simpering tone held the desperation in her eyes when he’d removed her hands. ‘I’ll do owt you’ve a fancy for, lad.’
Taking stock of her, he sighed. She wasn’t a woman at all. Behind the painted eyes, lips and cheeks, her pinched face was that of someone no older than fourteen or fifteen.
He extracted coppers from his pocket, took her icy hand and pressed them into her palm. Then he put his lips to her ear. ‘Go home, lass.’
Tears filled eyes old long before their time. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek and walked away.
Watching her scuttle through the throng of bodies, his guts lurched. What if Sally was in the same desperate situation …? No. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, think that. She was safe, well. She had to be.
A deep voice cut through his thoughts. Across the road, he saw a tall, good-looking man catch a beshawled woman around the waist. Smiling down, he guided her inside a pie shop, and Tommy swallowed a pang of envy. Would he one day be that happy? Would he ever hold Sally again?
As he peered around, a lump formed in his throat at the hopelessness of it all. He was never going to find her.
‘You see, ’tis to be there when you need rescuing I was put on this earth, acushla.’
Meeting the Irishman’s laughing eyes, Sally couldn’t help smiling. ‘Con, this is serious. I don’t think I can return. How I held my tongue today, I do not know.’
‘Hush, now, and start from the beginning. Sure, ’twas a stroke of luck I spotted ye leaving.’
She took a sip of her tea. ‘I’m glad you did. I couldn’t have allowed Aunt Grace to see me like this. She didn’t want me taking the position in the first place. Whenever she asks how I’m faring, I say all is fine. She’d only fret if she knew the truth.’ She placed her cup on the table and closed her eyes. ‘Oh Con, she is wicked, wicked. Miss Sharp’s face …
‘My anger as I ran up those stairs … I could have taken the poker to her.’ A man at the next table glanced over and she lowered her voice. ‘She believes it’s for her daughter’s good, that if she didn’t remind her of the feel of the poker, it would only be a matter of time before she sinned again. Can you believe that?’
‘What sin has she committed before?’
‘I don’t know. Miss Sharp seems the last person to do anything immoral; a more decent and generous soul you couldn’t wish to meet. However, Mrs Sharp said something about a man, that she didn’t know what he’d seen in her daughter.’
Con leaned forward, his slow smile surfacing. ‘It sounds like your Miss Sharp is a touch too generous.’
‘Whatever her past, it doesn’t excuse her mother’s actions. Nothing can justify what she’s done to her poor face – has done many times.’
‘What will ye do?’
She stared absently through the window. ‘I honestly do not know. I need this job but am not sure I can be around such evil. The way she was today … she must have known I’d seen her daughter’s injuries, yet she showed not a flicker of shame.
‘Do you know something else? Yesterday, I broke my back cleaning her room. I thought she’d announce she didn’t like it, to be awkward, but surprisingly, she said I’d done well.’
‘That’s grand, isn’t it?’
‘No, Con, I don’t think it is. I believe she intended to dislike the room before I even began but, when she noticed Miss Sharp there, saw it as a perfect opportunity to belittle her. She merely sang my praises to hurt her. How could she derive enjoyment from her child’s misery?’
He took her hand, the pleasure in his eyes when she didn’t shy away, clear. ‘When are you next in?’
‘Monday.’
‘And will ye go? Can you brave this out or will you look for something else?’
‘If I do stay, it will be for Miss Sharp. I doubt she’d find anyone to fill my position and the duty would fall to her. She’d be at that monstrous woman’s mercy completely.’
Stroking her fingers, he smiled. ‘You’re a grand woman. You’re gentle and caring, yet you’ve a feistiness I find irresistible. You intrigue me.’
His hand strayed up her arm and she pulled back, cheeks flushing.
‘Sally, I’m sorry, I—’
‘I’m sorry, too, Con. I don’t feel for you as you do for me.’ She glanced at him and sighed. ‘You’re handsome, you make me laugh, I feel safe in your company … but we cannot be more than friends.’
‘Because of this?’ He tapped her wedding band. ‘Whatever the reason your marriage broke down, who and where your husband is, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t care about your past. I just want to be part of your future. ’Twas fate, us meeting as we did. And whenever you’re in need, I always seem to be close by, to help and look after you. ’Tis like it’s meant to be, acushla.’
His heartfelt words touched her and when she spoke, there was a catch in her voice. ‘Aunt Grace was right about you Irish. You could charm the birds from the trees with your blarney.’
He flashed a weak smile. ‘But …?’
‘There’s no future for us, not like that.’
‘Is your heart already claimed by another?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Was your wistful smile on the train for him?’
Her cheeks burned but she tossed her head. ‘Con Malloy, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I harbour feelings for no man.’
He grinned. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Believe what you will,’ she said mildly. ‘Furthermore, there are several questions I would like to ask you.’
‘Such as?’
Her lips twitched when his infectious smile grew. ‘Why were you in Bolton that day? What do you do for a living? Where and with whom do you reside?’
‘We have a lot to discuss, to be sure. And you know what that means?’ He winked, his grin returning. ‘I get to spend more time with ye.’
Rolling her eyes, she laughed. ‘You’re incorrigible. Now, I’m afraid I must go as Jonathan will be needing me. You’re welcome to walk with me if you’re going my way.’
‘Feeling better?’ he asked when they exited the pie shop.
Sally linked her arm in his. ‘How could I not with a friend like you to cheer me up?’
He nudged her playfully and, laughing, she hurried him along the street.