A Wanton Tale (4 page)

‘No Aunty keeps us love and our mothers never kept us neither and looking at you, well you could do with some nice clothes and nice new boots.’ Said Lou seriously.

‘My Ma belted me across the head if I came back and hadn’t sold all the fruit she sent me out with.’ Said Alice. ‘I used to walk the streets in the peeing down rain with no boots on me feet, my Ma is a bitch.’ Alice had a lump in her throat as she spoke and she was determined never to go back to her Ma.

‘And mine used to beat me if I didn’t come back with ten shillings a night.’ Added Lou.

Ellen looked on, pretending to be astonished and offended, her own upbringing had been equally difficult. She preferred to keep her own sad tale to herself.

Within a week of being there Alice knew what was going on, the other girls had pretty well told her. She could hear for herself the moans and groans of ecstasy through the flimsy old walls. She knew where babies came from and had walked in on her Ma and Pa in bed. She had heard groans like this before, but this time it was different.

Alice soon understood that the other girls were performing sex acts with the men that came to the house. They had told her all about their business.

Freddie waited his opportunity to test Alice’s hunger for money on a day when he was alone in the house with her. He knew she was in the bedroom upstairs, he heard her cleaning the fire grate. He approached her, stroked her hair and passed flattering remarks.

‘Our secret.’ He had told her. ‘Not a word.’

He gave her two shillings as he opened his trousers. Alice accepted the inevitable, she looked up at him feeling powerless. She didn’t protest as he pulled her head towards him. She pleasured the man who had cruelly coerced her into a terrible experience.

Freddie Hale was sitting with a group of cronies in the smoke filled cellar of a house in China Town. His eyes were stinging with the heaviness of the air from the opium users as they puffed on their drug filled pipes, searching for the oblivion that the terrible substance gave them.

Interestingly, it was not the Chinese who had originally introduced such drugs to England. Freddie had been told that their precious commodity of tea from China, much sought after by the English, was traded for opium from their ships!

A stick thin young Chinese girl came towards the men who were seated discreetly in the corner. She was carrying a tray of drinks which she quietly placed down without a hint of a smile. Her placid little face was heavily painted giving her the appearance of a sinister doll. All manner of alcohol, narcotics and vices could be arranged in Freddie’s favourite little bolthole. The place was known as ‘Su May’s.’

Betsy knew that Freddie occasionally frequented the house where he treated himself to the delights on offer. There was nothing doing at home for him except for watching others and for Freddie it wasn’t enough. Anyway, as far as he was concerned the sex was better in the Chinese brothel. More adventurous and highly suited to his deviant tastes, a haven of exotic girls and drink. Freddie had tried several narcotics but he knew of the extreme danger of opium.

One of Freddie’s card playing cronies was a man called Maurice. He was rich and Freddie knew that he liked young girls. He liked them even more now it was illegal to touch them. ‘This would raise their value.’ Thought Freddie. He dropped hints to Maurice that soon they would have a ‘new one’ ripe for the plucking, ‘for a good price naturally.’

Maurice was a mystery man, he was well spoken, finely dressed and no one really knew how he came by his money. He often lost at gambling and losing money didn’t seem to affect him, it was as though he had a bottomless pit. Freddie thought that he wasn’t very old either, possibly in his mid thirties. He surmised that he was the black sheep of a rich Cheshire family who had been flung out on his ear with a pile of money. Clearly, he had been banished for good. Nevertheless, it mattered not. His wealth was a good enough reason to fraternise with him and Maurice only entertained the likes of Freddie because he arranged good things for him.

Freddie’s supposition about Maurice wasn’t far wrong, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself in his father’s house. For the second time he had got one of the young housemaids into trouble, at Bramble Hall, near Knutsford. Under duress they had both succumbed to his advances but had sadly landed themselves in the workhouse for the privilege. It was easy to blame the girls but his father knew otherwise, he was onto Maurice after the first episode and was aware that his son was a bully. Maurice blamed two of the estate workers for the down fall of the young women, they were fired on the spot. It was common knowledge that Maurice was the culprit but people were frightened to speak out. They were afraid of losing their livelihood and for this they loathed him. It was a relief to all when he left. His father quite simply wanted him out of the house, off the estate and out of Cheshire.

Now in Liverpool, Maurice’s appetite for young girls was more rampant than ever. Plenty of vices were available to him without the aggravation of being under scrutiny by his father. Maurice made sure he enjoyed himself and the cynical toff, never short of money, had no qualms about taking big cheques from his father. As for his father, it was money well spent, he was determined to keep him away from Bramble Hall and away from the county. He would never run the risk of him blackening the family name again.

Freddie couldn’t wait to tell Betsy that Alice had succumbed to the lure of money. It was music to Betsy’s ears, so she arranged for a special client to come to the house. She brought Alice into the parlour for the man’s pleasure and many more after.

Betsy made up a story that she was the virgin daughter of a clergyman. Such tales excited the men more and most importantly for Betsy, made them pay handsomely. The sickening woman would encourage them to explore Alice’s body and unloose themselves onto her.

Alice hated doing it, but Betsy required it of her and Alice felt indebted to the woman who had brought her to live under her roof. When she was pleasuring a client, it was Betsy she was trying to impress. From a deep place within her, Alice knew that she was doing wrong. She meekly accepted these acts as a form of punishment. She was all too aware that penance came in many guises, most she had already witnessed in her young life. Life would never be good if you were poor. She would take it unflinchingly, as she always did, imagining it was not really her doing it. Each time it was over, her mind and body would return to the miserable existence that had been her lot for as long as she could remember.

Alice would soon fall even further into the soulless cesspit of immorality. Her time had come. Freddie wanted to auction off her virginity, they talked about it several times. But Betsy’s answer was firmly, ‘No’.

‘There’s more than one who will pay handsomely for her. I have spoken to a few who like ‘em young and have money. Four and ‘the other one’ are very interested. Rather than one of them paying us one hundred, in addition, four will pay us fifty to watch. Work it out in that pickled head of yours. You see if it doesn’t work out good.’ Maurice, who had sunk into the depths of perversion got a thrill out of other men watching him.

Betsy treated Maurice with a particular deference. She only knew him by his first name. He often used a pseudonym of Jones, but she had an idea that Jones was not his real name. He was looked after by Betsy and Alice knew that he was someone important. She rightly guessed that he would be her first and was dreading it.

Betsy had prepared her for the day. She had opened the door to the four men and Maurice. Betsy showed them into the parlour then sat down on her chaise longue.

Alice sat there timidly, she was fearful of what was to come. Betsy locked the door and put her arm around Alice, her smile was more of a sneer. She was the centre of attention, five men and Betsy were all staring at her, she felt trapped and uncomfortable.

‘Take your clothes off.’ Whispered Betsy as she began to help the girl out of her clothes. Alice was numb with fear. For a moment her mind drifted to the older girls and she thought how awful it must be for them too. Then, the reality of the situation dawned on her. She would have to go through with it, there was no way out. She was standing in the middle of the room, imprisoned by the leering eyes of the men.

One pair of eyes seemed more sharp and penetrating. They were blue and piercing, forcing her to drop her gaze to the floor. She couldn’t bear to look at him, his stare was wicked. She had learned to read Betsy’s facial expressions, her beady dark eyes were locked onto her, she gave her a look seen many times before. Alice could barely cope with all these men in the room and Betsy was an intimidating presence. By the time she was naked, they were holding themselves, enjoying the anticipation.

The heavy red velvet curtains were drawn and the room was dark and shadowy, very little daylight could penetrate through Betsy’s drapes. Alice felt she was in a dungeon far removed from the life of the street. The clatter of horses and carts outside were a world apart from her.

Maurice reached out a clammy hand and pressed it into the small of her back. Alice was fearfully dreading what was to come.

Betsy stood up and with a flourish of her hand she guided the girl towards an upholstered chair. Alice couldn’t stand the bony fingers on her shoulders, they were cold, like icicles. At first she froze and then gave way as Betsy began bending her across the back of the chair, grabbing her tiny hips.

Alice could see all of the men, except one. She sensed that the man with the cold blue eyes was behind her. There was a delay, that felt like an eternity. Then came a sudden shock of searing pain as he forced himself into her, seemingly as brutally and fully as he could. Her eyes were closed tightly. She had bitten her lower lip and could taste her own blood mingling with tears. She couldn’t move, her knuckles were white as she gripped the chair.

Betsy’s crooked mouth broke into a cynical smile. Alice’s ordeal was over.

As Maurice caught his breath and withdrew, Alice opened her eyes. He was staring at her.

He glanced over to Betsy, noticing her twisted smile and thought that the ‘old hag’ looked slightly ludicrous, grotesque even, as she watched over the spectacle before her. Secretly, in his sick, twisted mind he was enjoying the attention.

The elegant front parlour had, to Alice, become a frightening place. The men left in silence. The atmosphere was a nauseating blend of Alice’s cheap perfume and stale tobacco which lingered on the men’s clothes. The smell of the burning coals of the fire were no longer welcoming. She would remember the sights, the smells, the feeling and the fear of this day for ever. Time seemed to stretch and contract and she was adrift in her own emotion. She felt on the verge of… something unstoppable.

Betsy said, ‘Come on Dearie. Pull yourself together. It’s over, had to happen, now liven yourself up!’ She then threw her dress at her. A callous streak in her had just reared its ugly head. Betsy lit her cigar and her mind drifted with the clouds of exhaled smoke which now dominated the air. She didn’t give a damn about young girls, ‘No one cared about me when I was eight and it happened to me.’ Betsy was, in reality, a bitter woman.

Then her mood softened. ‘Ah, there,’ she said, ‘try a drop of that gin on the sideboard, it’ll unrattle your nerves.’

She didn’t want any gin, at first she wanted to refuse the five pound note but thought better of it and took the money. Betsy smirked as she handed over the crumpled, dirty note, then Alice left the room quietly. Now the girl had gone, she emptied the secret pockets of her skirts. Clutching the rest of the money, she bustled over to the pair of Fu Dog ornaments. They had been cleverly made, the heads were removable and there was hardly a join. It was here that she hid her money. She poured herself a ‘well deserved’ drink. The black sequins of her dress and the satin of her bow shimmered and sparkled in the firelight. As she tweeked her black jet beads and earrings she congratulated herself for acquiring such a lucrative commodity.

Alice climbed the stairs, she had to go to the wash room, she felt dirty. She looked at herself full on in mirror and began to cry, they were bitter, regretful and angry tears.

She could hardly face the other three girls who were anxiously waiting above, There was sympathy from all but one. Lily eyed her with icy disapproval as she entered the attic lair, her mind was on money. ‘How much did she you give you?’

‘Five shillings.’ Alice lied, wary of Lily’s tone, her face looked pinched and severe.

‘That’s good, about right, a bit more than usual.’

It was the first time in her life that she had lied, the five pound note would be her own little secret.

T
he past year had been like an eternity to Alice and the future seemed to stretch ahead in the same miserable way. Although a pretty child, since an early age she had always been melancholy. In her mind she knew that girls like her could never expect to be happy. She had grown to accept that she had been born into a family and an area which was far removed from happier classes.

At home, Alice had to grow up fast. Now, even faster in the house into which she had fallen. She coped with her life with a subdued acceptance but she still had hope. She had to admit to herself that the money she had saved, kept her going. She was determined that one day she would make good, away from this sordid life. It was this thought that kept her sane and gave her the resolve to carry on.

Now she was an active member of the house, she had regulars. She knew that the other three resented her presence. A fourth share of the clientele would affect their earnings.

Although the girls got along, under the froth there were underlying frictions. Alice hated Betsy, she represented all that was evil in the exploitation of young women. Alice resented the fact that this was not just a means of making money for Betsy and Freddie. They enjoyed a sick perversion by watching the girls and encouraging them to plummet into greater depths of depravity. The girls were never averse to indulging the clients with more outlandish acts.