Ann Felton walked slowly along Union Street, heading towards the market. She had no home, a small amount of savings and little chance of finding work. Poverty was strangling the town and now she was one of the great unemployed and homeless. It was still early and she watched the streets come to life as she walked with no idea where she was going to end up.
Turning into High Street, Ann passed the Theatre Royal and a smile crossed her lips as thoughts of Richard Wyndham came to mind. Would he wonder where she’d gone? Would he even know she’d left? He had said he wanted to take her to dinner again soon. Briefly, she considered asking him for help, but her pride would not allow her to do so. It would be difficult, but somehow she would manage alone; after all she’d lived on the streets once before.
Halting at the High Bullen, the tramway stretched out before her. Considering her options, Ann looked left then right. She could remain in Wednesbury and try to find work and somewhere to live or she could ride the tram to another town. But would she be able to find work elsewhere? Would other places be as poverty stricken as this one?
It was as she stood contemplating that she heard the sound of a horse and trap. Turning, she saw the horse was almost upon her. Deftly, she stepped to the side as the horse careered past her. The trap had missed her by inches and Ann was shocked to see the smiling face of the driver. It was the bad tempered girl she’d seen outside the theatre!
Ann watched as the trap hurtled round the corner into Ladburys Lane. Her mind snapped to attention. Was that a deliberate attempt to run her down? Would the girl try again by turning the horse into Church Street, then again into High Street? If so, she would have driven in a triangle and could be upon her again in no time, the speed she was travelling! Dashing back the way she had come, Ann shot into Earps Lane, which lay off High Street. Stopping to catch her breath, she waited and, sure enough, a moment later she saw the horse gallop past once more. It was looking very much like that girl had taken advantage of a chance encounter and tried to run her over with the trap.
Rather than venture out onto High Street again, Ann wove her way between the buildings to Trouse Lane. Crossing the busy thoroughfare into Meeting Street, she kept a sharp eye out for the trap. Turning into Queen Street, she found the house she was looking for.
Banging on the front door of number twelve, she heard a sleepy voice call out, ‘All right, all right! Hold yer ’orses!’ The door opened and Maisie gasped. ‘Annie? Bloody ’ell, girl, come on in, you look as white as a ghost!’
Stepping into the small living room, Ann was ushered to a chair by the fire.
Over tea, her nerves began to calm and she related the tale of her leaving the Bell and the blonde haired girl being so rude to her outside the Theatre Royal and just now attempting to run her down with the trap.
‘That sounds like Victoria Beckett. Everybody knows what a temper she ’as. She’s the bank manager’s daughter and she’s firmly of the opinion she owns the town,’ Maisie confided.
Ann explained about ‘Lecherous Len’ being in her room and trying to molest her on her return from her evening out with Richard Wyndham. Maisie was shocked about Len stepping so far out of line but nodded her approval when Ann said she’d told Gladys, who had unceremoniously dragged the protesting Len away to their own room, where she’d proceeded to give him hell. She thanked Maisie for the loan of the dress which she had left with Gladys for safekeeping and said Maisie could collect it the next time she was in the pub.
‘So, what will you do now?’ Maisie asked, pinning her auburn hair out of her face.
Ann shook her head. ‘I need to find a job and quickly… as well as somewhere to live.’
Maisie eyed the girl sat by her fireside. ‘I ain’t ’aving you come into my business!’
‘I was thinking more of kitchen work,’ Ann laughed.
‘Good. Now, you are welcome to use my spare room for as long as you need it. Don’t worry, I don’t bring anyone back here; this is my sanctuary.’ Maisie said with a smile.
‘Oh, Maisie, thank you! I’ll find work and pay rent as soon as I can.’ Ann was delighted with this unexpected turn of events.
‘Don’t worry about that, you need to think more about that spoilt brat who tried to knock you down with her trap!’ Seeing the girl’s worried countenance, she went on, ‘Does Richard Wyndham know you’ve left the Bell?’
‘No.’
‘Be interesting to see if he searches for you ’cos you certainly caught his eye! Right, come on, bring your bag and I’ll show you to your room.’
Later, sitting together once more by the fire, Maisie said she would ask the girls to keep an ear cocked regarding some work for Ann.
That evening as Ann readied herself for bed, Maisie prepared to go out to ‘work’. It was going to be a strange arrangement should Ann find work. One working days, the other working nights, they would probably only meet up in the early evenings. Regardless, Ann was grateful she had a room where she didn’t have to shove a chair beneath the doorknob to keep herself safe.
Unbeknown to Ann, Richard Wyndham had indeed called into the Bell to see her and was told she’d left. He had not been given an explanation as to why and as he walked from the building he wondered what had occurred to cause her to just up and move. Was it anything to do with him? Had he frightened her in some way and this was her way of avoiding him?
He considered now might be a good time to return home to Shropshire, but even as the thought struck, he knew he would not do so. He had to find Ann; he needed to know the reason she had left. It had to be something very serious for her to give up her home and employment and he determined he would discover just what that was.
Walking along Union Street, he wondered how he could find the lovely young woman again. Who would know where she had gone? Sighing loudly, he continued up into the marketplace. Viscount Wyndham knew very few people in this town and those he was acquainted with moved in entirely different circles to those of Ann Felton.
Stepping into the London City & Midland Bank to withdraw some cash, Richard was surprised to see William Beckett disappear into his office. He recalled being introduced the night of the Mayor’s ball. His desire to know if the man had taken Ann’s advice and spanked his unruly daughter had him smiling.
Opening the door onto the street, he heard his name being called as he was about to leave and he turned.
‘Lord Wyndham! How very nice to see you again.’
William Beckett strode across the floor, hand outstretched. Shaking hands with the manager of the bank, Richard did not see the woman with auburn hair pass by in the street.
Maisie Bancroft, however, had seen him.
Maisie kept her counsel regarding seeing Richard at the bank, and also hearing him addressed as Lord Wyndham.
The days passed and Ann was settling well in the house she shared with Maisie, searching every day for work. With none to be had, she was at least able to keep the house clean and cook their evening meal before Maisie went out to ‘work’.
One afternoon over tea by the fire, Ann said, ‘Maisie, it’s impossible to find work in this town.’
‘Well, you ain’t coming to work with me!’ Maisie answered sharply.
‘No, I know, but I feel so guilty staying in your house, eating your food and not contributing to the household coffers.’ Ann was becoming distressed.
‘Something will turn up, you just have to be patient.’ Maisie could see Ann needed cheering up, so she added, ‘Besides, you could always go back to “Lecherous Len”!’
Ann grimaced before they both burst out laughing.
‘I wish I had loads of money,’ Maisie said dreamily, ‘I’d open a proper brothel and I could be the madam – just taking the money, you understand – and you could be the maid!’
‘Me – a maid in a brothel! I think not!’ Seeing the smile on her friend’s face, Ann went on, ‘I do hope this is just a joke and not actually something you would do.’
‘Not really – but just think…’ Maisie’s smile turned to a grin.
Ann howled as Maisie continued with an in-depth explanation about opening a place where men could visit in comfort. They could take their pleasure in plush surroundings and pay highly for the privilege, she said. Tears poured down Ann’s face and she struggled for breath when Maisie finished with, ‘It would be a bloody sight better than a knee-trembler in a back alley!’
Having heard this sort of talk from the women in the snug, Ann was accustomed to it, but she still laughed at Maisie’s turn of phrase.
‘Right, best get my arse out on the street, else we won’t eat tomorrer.’
Ann watched sadly as Maisie prepared herself for a night walking the streets, hoping for clients. She wished there was some way she could help Maisie give up the oldest profession in the world and find something they could work at together.
Shouting ‘Tarrar, cocker, see you later,’ Maisie was gone and Ann set her mind to working out how to get Maisie off the streets as well as finding good honest work for herself.
Meanwhile, Maisie Bancroft chatted amiably on the corner of Camp Street with the other working girls. They were all aware that Ann Felton was staying at her house and the reason for it and all of them were keeping an ear out for any work that might suit her, but nothing was forthcoming. However, they were all in agreement that Ann would not be joining them out on the streets.
Maisie confided to her friends about Richard Wyndham being a lord and how she thought he and Ann would make a handsome couple. If she could manage to get them together, Maisie knew Ann would want for nothing. She was going to make it her mission to ensure Lord Wyndham found Ann Felton again. Ideas on how to go about it played on her mind throughout the night.
Maisie let herself into the house as the sun rose and plopped down in the chair by the fireside. Ann had thoughtfully lit the fire and Maisie gazed into its flames. She heard Ann coming down the wooden stairs and smiled a greeting.
‘Fancy a cup of tea?’ Ann asked as she moved to prepare breakfast.
Nodding, Maisie answered, ‘I gotta find another job, Annie; my feet are killing me!’ Both laughed as Ann passed over a steaming cup of tea.
‘We should find something we could work at together,’ Ann said.
‘I only know this work; been at it since I were in my late teens,’ Maisie answered as she rubbed her sore feet.
Carrying a bowl of warm water, Ann placed it on the floor and Maisie sank her feet into it gratefully. Looking at her friend, Ann said, ‘All the more reason to get out of it and find something new.’
Maisie leaned back in the chair, enjoying the soothing water on her aching feet. ‘Annie, there ain’t no work out there for either of us. Nobody is hiring.’
‘Then why don’t we work for ourselves?’ Ann asked. ‘We could set up a little business from here.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. We could sew – make clothes. We could bake and get a market stall; we could make beer…’ Ann’s imagination was running on.
‘Hold on there, girl! I, for one, ain’t got a clue about any of that! Besides, we’d need money to start up with – money we ain’t got!’ Maisie sighed.
Scratching her head, Ann agreed, ‘That’s our first obstacle.’
‘Well, when you overcome it, let me know. Right now I gotta get me some shut-eye.’ Maisie dried her feet on a towel hanging over the arm of a chair. Grabbing the bread Ann was holding to the fire on a toasting fork, she grinned as she made for the stairs.
Ann ate her breakfast and quietly began her chores as Maisie slept soundly.
There had to be something they could do that would see Maisie out of prostitution and that would make them some money. With thoughts coming one after another, Ann slipped quietly from the house and headed for the market.
A little while later, Ann spread the old newspaper on the table, then began to create a pattern. Laying these pieces onto the material she’d bought from the few pennies she’d scraped together, she began to cut. Working all day in the silence of the living room, Ann looked at the finished article.
A pretty flowered child’s smock dress and mob cap to match lay on the table. Pleased with her efforts, Ann rubbed her tired eyes, before moving to the kitchen to prepare an evening meal.
A gasp drew her attention to Maisie, who had risen from her bed to ready herself for her night’s work.
‘Do you like it?’ Ann asked.
‘It’s bloody lovely, Annie, where’s it come from?’
‘I made it this afternoon.’
‘You – made it?’ Maisie lifted the pretty dress for clearer inspection.
‘Yes, I wondered if we could make more and sell them on.’ Ann smiled as she watched Maisie screw up her face.
‘I can’t bloody sew!’
‘You can learn,’ Ann said with a grin.
‘Nah, not me, but if you sew ’em I can sell ’em!’
‘Right, first I’ll need the materials then – we’ll be in business.’
Laughing together, the young women shared ideas over hot tea. Ann needed to make more children’s clothes and Maisie needed to be able to sell them. They decided cheap and cheerful was the way to go in the first instance, then if they were successful they could move on to more fashionable and expensive items. In time, they might gain a good reputation as well as a lucrative business.
Once Maisie had set off for work, Ann made a list of items she would need. Materials, pins, needles, threads – and newspapers for patterns. The following day Ann planned to go door to door begging unwanted newspapers to make up her patterns.
As Ann prepared for bed, she wondered how Maisie proposed to sell the items she made. It didn’t really matter as long as the clothes sold. Sitting in bed, she sketched out a few ideas for girls’ dresses and boys’ waistcoats and trousers.
Ann’s heavy eyelids began to droop as she looked at the last design she had drawn. Without realising, she had drawn a beautiful wedding gown. Her ideas had gone from children’s wear to bridal outfits. Was this to be her chosen profession? Could she be a dress designer?
Closing her eyes, Ann fell into a dream-filled sleep. Bridal gowns of all colours and designs drifted through her subconscious as she slept. Creams, whites, pale pinks, powder blues and peppermint greens jockeyed for prime position behind her eyelids and a smile crept over Ann’s face as she slept.