The following day William left for London on the early train, and Mary took the opportunity to explain to Lucy that she was going to be married soon. She didn’t tell the child that she couldn’t bear to stay on in this house with another mistress running it. She had been very fond of Dr and Mrs Thornbury, and although her amiable fiancé would have understood if she had wanted to become a daily maid instead of a live-in one, she had decided that a clean break was called for. When she had travelled to London at Mr Thornbury’s request, and had met his wife for the first time, her resolve to leave as soon as possible was strengthened. Mrs William Thornbury had told her that she would be choosing her own servants when she came to live in Hull.
‘An excellent idea, ma’am,’ Mary had said, and tried not to sound too pleased as she went on to say that she herself would only be staying on until a new housekeeper was hired, since she was leaving to be married. She considered that she was a good judge of character and knew without a shadow of doubt that she would not wish to work for Nora Thornbury.
‘May I come to your wedding?’ Lucy asked Mary as she dressed her. ‘I have lots of pretty frocks that I could wear.’
‘Of course you can. That would be lovely! Let’s tek a look in your wardrobe,’ Mary said, ‘and see what still fits you. You’ve grown so tall whilst you’ve been away.’
Taller and thinner is what she meant, and she hoped that a new cook would look to providing the little girl with nourishing food to build her up again.
They found several dresses that still fitted, although Mary would have to let down some of the hems. Lucy asked if she could wear one of them now instead of the one that her aunt had bought her as a mourning dress, which was dark grey wool and edged on the collar and hem with black frogging. Mary didn’t see why she shouldn’t and was convinced that the little girl would be cheered up by wearing something more colourful.
She dressed her and brushed her dark hair and found a blue satin bow to pin in it, and was pleased to see Lucy’s brown eyes light up as she looked in the mirror.
‘Wouldn’t Mama be happy to see me in this,’ she said.
Mary swallowed hard. ‘Indeed she would, Miss Lucy, and she would be more than happy to see that lovely smile on your face.’
‘I’ll try to smile, Mary,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s just that sometimes I feel very sad.’
‘We all feel sad sometimes, Miss Lucy,’ Mary told her. ‘But being happy is better and will chase ’sadness away.’
‘Could we go out?’ the little girl asked. ‘Is it allowed?’
‘Yes, it’s allowed. Why wouldn’t it be?’
‘Aunt Nora said I wasn’t well enough to go out before, because I have had a – had a …’ She delicately patted her mouth in an unconscious mimicry of her mother that broke Mary’s heart. ‘A drama I think she said.’
‘A drama?’ Mary frowned as she pondered on what that meant. ‘Trauma, was it?’
‘Oh, it might have been trauma. I don’t know what a trauma is; perhaps it’s something like a drama. But I don’t think I’ve had one.’
Mary took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know what it is either,’ she lied, ‘so we won’t bother about it and we’ll tek a short walk into town.’
It was a warm and sunny day when they ventured out after Lucy had eaten breakfast, with Mary carrying an umbrella in case of rain.
‘Could we go and see your house, Mary? The one you’ll live in when you get married?’
Mary hesitated. The house, or room as it really was, was situated in one of the poorer districts of Hull, being the only place that she and Joe could afford. ‘I haven’t got the key yet, Miss Lucy,’ she said at last, ‘but I’ll show you where it is.’ It wouldn’t do any harm, she thought, if the child saw how ordinary folk lived.
They walked from Baker Street into the town. Dr Thornbury and his wife had decided on that address as it was close to the General Infirmary where, had he lived, it was expected he would have eventually become a senior surgeon, but Mary took Lucy in a different direction so that she didn’t see the hospital. As they went through other streets Lucy seemed to be concentrating on her white buckled shoes. She gave a few little hops. ‘Did you hear that, Mary? My heels make a tapping noise when I go forward.’
Mary laughed. ‘So they do,’ she said, and she too hopped. ‘Tap, tap, tap!’
‘They’re dancing shoes.’ Lucy tried several different steps, and by the time they had skipped and hopped to her satisfaction they were well away from the Infirmary, cutting through narrow streets and into the town, skirting the Queen’s Dock and heading towards Whitefriargate where they could look in the smart shop windows.
Hull already had some fine buildings, but in this year, when the town was to be granted the status of a city, there was much talk of change and plans of demolishing the slum courts and alleyways were under discussion; new streets and housing would be built and the imposing Venetian-styled town hall, designed by the Hull-born architect Cuthbert Brodrick, would also be knocked down and a new guildhall built to reflect the status of a city. Mary hoped that they wouldn’t start demolishing just yet; some of the properties tucked down the alleyways between High Street and Lowgate, where she and Joe would live when they were married, must surely be on the list.
‘What’s that smell?’ Lucy wrinkled her nose as they crossed over Lowgate and through narrow Bishop Lane into High Street.
Mary knew what it was but hedged, saying, ‘It could be all manner of things, Miss Lucy. There are lots of mills and factories in this area and all of ’smells mingle together. There’re fish manure works and fish oil companies, and linseed and turpentine works. All manner of places. Hull is a busy industrial town, and we must put up with a few bad smells if it’s to thrive.’
The overriding aroma to which Lucy was referring, which Mary hardly ever noticed any more, came from the old privies at the back of the houses where the drains, such as they were, overflowed when the rain came down, or stank during hot weather. That was another reason why the corporation was so very keen to knock down some of these ancient buildings where people no longer wanted to live.
‘Why, look here,’ she went on, as a man approached. ‘Here’s Mr Harrigan himself. Joe, what you doing down here at this time of day? Why aren’t you at work?’
A solidly built man in a shabby tweed jacket and wearing a cap that he took off as soon as he drew near bent down to greet Lucy.
‘This must be Miss Thornbury her very self, is it, Mary?’ he said, putting his hand to his chest. ‘How do you do, miss? I’m very pleased to have your acquaintance.’
‘I’m very well, thank you, Mr Harrigan,’ Lucy piped, and politely dipped her knee. ‘And I hope that you are too? You may call me Lucy if you wish.’
‘I’d be honoured, Miss Lucy,’ he grinned. ‘Dee-lighted.’ Then he frowned. ‘But what ’you doing down here, Mary, and bringing ’young miss? That’s not on at all, you know.’
‘I asked you first, Joe,’ Mary said. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’
‘Short time,’ he said glumly. ‘I don’t start till after dinner.’ He shrugged. ‘I thought I’d collect ’key to ’house while I’d got ’time off.’
‘Oh, so I can see the house after all,’ Lucy said excitedly.
Mary shook her head silently, indicating to Joe that it wasn’t a good idea, and Joe, catching on, said as if reluctantly, ‘I’m afraid not, Miss Lucy. It’s being prepared, cleaned an’ that, ready for when me and Mary gets married. Mebbe you could come after that.’
‘All right,’ Lucy said. ‘Perhaps when you’ve got your own furniture and curtains?’
‘We’d consider it a great honour,’ Joe said. ‘Wouldn’t we, my Mary?’
Mary put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder and gave a soft sigh. ‘We would indeed.’
Joe left them and continued up High Street whilst Lucy and Mary carried on in the opposite direction until Mary halted at the top of a narrow alleyway where there were eight small houses.
‘We won’t go down, Miss Lucy, but ’house that me and Joe is renting is down here. This is called Narrow Passage.’
Lucy peered down and then looked up at the topmost windows. ‘It is very narrow, isn’t it? And rather dark,’ she said. ‘Won’t you be afraid of walking down here on your own? Although I suppose Mr Harrigan will be with you most of the time.’ She looked rather puzzled. ‘Except when he’s at work. What kind of work does he do?’
‘Joe works on ’docks. He’s a labourer,’ Mary said. ‘He unloads cargo off ’ships that come in.’
‘I see,’ Lucy said. ‘I suppose that’s very difficult work. He’ll have to be very careful not to drop anything.’
Mary smiled. ‘Oh, he’s very strong is my Joe, and very careful. Come along then, Miss Lucy. Let’s turn round and be getting home again.’
As they strolled back across town, Mary stopped to speak to someone else. ‘This is my sister Dolly, Miss Lucy.’
They exchanged greetings, and then in a low voice Mary asked a question of her sister. When Dolly shook her head, Mary said more loudly, ‘Ask her to come and see me early tomorrow morning. And then I can tell her what’s what.’
Lucy laughed. ‘What’s what,’ she said merrily as they continued, cutting through streets that Mary seemed to know very well until they arrived back in Albion Street, where many of the houses were occupied by doctors who worked at the hospital, dental surgeons, bank officials and others who didn’t have any occupation but were supported by an inheritance which allowed them to live in such a superior district.
‘What’s what?’ Mary said, turning the subject on its head as they walked on into Baker Street. ‘In a few years’ time, Hull will have changed. Old streets will have been knocked down and new thoroughfares built.’
‘Will you still know the way, Mary?’ Lucy asked. ‘Or will you get lost?’
‘I won’t get lost,’ Mary answered. ‘Soon you’ll be able to walk right down Prospect Street and into town without cutting through all those little streets the way we did when we came in.’
‘But if their houses are knocked down,’ Lucy said, ‘where will all the people live?’
‘Ah, well,’ Mary said solemnly. ‘I don’t know if all those clever folk with big ideas have thought of that yet.’
The following morning, before Lucy was awake, Mary opened the back door in answer to a soft tap and let in her niece Ada, Dolly’s eldest daughter.
‘Ma said I should come to see you,’ the girl whispered.
Mary led her into the kitchen. ‘No need to whisper, there’s nobody else here at ’minute. Your ma said you haven’t got any work yet.’
‘I haven’t,’ Ada said. ‘I’ve applied for some but haven’t had any luck so far. I was going to try one of ’mills, but I’d rather work in a house than a mill or a factory.’
Mary nodded. ‘I’m leaving here as soon as ’new mistress gets fixed up. She wants new staff and I don’t fancy working for her. I was used to my Mrs Thornbury’s ways and I know this one’ll be different.’
‘Bit of a firecracker, is she?’ Ada said perceptively.
‘I might be doing her an injustice,’ Mary answered, ‘cos I don’t really know her, but probably. Master’s nice though, just like his brother. But what I’d hoped,’ she lowered her voice, ‘was for somebody to keep an eye on Miss Lucy. She deserves some kindness after what she’s been through, and I know that you’re used to looking after your sisters and brothers.’
‘Surely they’ll want a nursery maid, not somebody like me?’ Ada said.
‘Mistress’ll want a maid of all work if I’m any judge, and I think you’ll be right up her street if you play your cards right. Now this is what I suggest …’