Hetty Feather (26 page)

'Oh, I daren't, ma'am, for my father will beat me
viciously if I don't take him money for his drink.
And then there's our Lil too, she's poorly.' I decided
to embellish things a little. 'And then there's my
sister Sheila, she's got the smallpox and is hideously
disfigured, and my sister Monica, who's been kicked
by a horse and is very dim-witted now.' I started
going through half the dormitory at the hospital,
inventing ailments and misfortunes galore. I took
care to keep my tone tragic and my face a mask of
mournfulness – but to my astonishment the lady
and gentleman started
laughing.

'Be off with you, you naughty minx. You should
not tell such stories!' said the lady.

'Yes, it's very bad of you to try and con us – but
here's a little something for your cheek,' said the
gentleman. He fished in his pocket and handed me
a couple of coins.

'Oh thank you kindly, sir,' I said, bobbing him a
curtsy.

I thought he'd handed me a couple of pennies, but
when I opened my fist I saw it was
two shillings
!

'Oh, Hetty, you're a marvel!' said Sissy, giving
me a hug. 'There, you've brought us luck! We can
indeed go home now.'

I stood still. 'But . . . I have no home,' I said.

'You come along with me,' said Sissy. 'You can
stay with Lil and me for now.'

'Won't your father mind?' I asked anxiously.

'So long as he's got enough to drink he don't
mind anything,' said Sissy. 'Come on, little Hetty.
Come home and meet our Lil. She'll take a shine to
you, I'm sure.'

Sissy led me through a maze of dark alleyways
to her home. They were so dark that I kept
stumbling on the uneven cobblestones, and when I
tried walking in the gutter I stepped in something
unspeakable in my bare feet. I hoped I might be able
to have a proper wash at Sissy's house – but when
we got there at last, it came as a rude shock.

I was not a fool. I knew Sissy was very poor. I
hadn't pictured her in a palace. I'd thought she would
live in a very modest house, rather like the country
cottage where I'd lived with my foster family.

But Sissy's family didn't have their own house.
They had one room in a large, bleak, five-storey
tenement building, the bricks black with grime,
the window glass mostly missing, the roof partly
collapsed.

I stared up at it in horror. 'Is it falling down?' I
asked.

'It soon will. It's been condemned a while now so
the rent's cheap. Do you want to pee first? We're up
four flights of stairs, so it's a good idea to go now if
you want to.'

There was no proper privy, just a stinking hole in
a tumbledown shed in the back yard. Judging from
the smell and the slime on the walls, folk simply
tipped their chamber pots out of the window. There
was a tap over a drain. Sissy turned it on for me so
I could sluice my feet – but only a dribble of water
came out.

'That tap's no use. Never mind,' said Sissy. 'I'll
go up to the pump at the end of the street later on
and bring a jug back.'

There were cockroaches crawling along the dark
corridor of the fourth floor. Sissy stamped on them
with her boots, while I walked on tiptoe, agonized.
She opened the door of the room right at the end.
It was very dark, but I could see it was pitifully
small and barely furnished. There were two thin
mattresses on the floor, and a rickety chair and
a stool. Someone had hung sacking curtains at
the narrow window and worked a rag rug for the
floor, but these were the only homely touches. A
big slovenly man sprawled on one mattress while a
little girl huddled on the other, coughing and
coughing.

'Lil? Oh, dearie, ssh now. Here, darling, take a
drink,' said Sissy, hurrying to her side.

She helped Lil sit up and held an old tin cup
to her lips. 'There now, my lovey, this will help,'
she said.

'Cough, cough, cough! It drives me mad,' said
the father, scratching his head. 'She only does it to
annoy, I'm sure. A man can't even have a little nap
for that cough, cough, cough. Clear your throat, Lil,
and then shut up.'

He rubbed his eyes and then blinked at me.
'Who's this? Clear off out of here, this ain't
your room!'

'Hush, Father, this is my new little friend
Hetty. She's brought me luck. She's a dab hand
at flower-selling, almost as good as our Lil. Look
what she's earned for us!' She held out one of the
silver shillings.

He snatched it, bit it hard and then shoved it in
his pocket. 'Well, I'll be off for a little constitutional,'
he said, not giving me a second glance now. 'I'll just
stretch my legs and maybe take a drink to ease my
parched throat. I'll be back within the hour.'

He stuck his feet in his old broken boots, clapped
a greasy bowler hat on his tousled hair and made
his way over to the door.

'Within the hour!' Sissy muttered. 'We won't see
him till midnight – and good riddance. There now,
Lil, take another sip, that's my good girl. Give Hetty
a smile, dearie, and show her that
someone
in our
family has good manners.'

Lil tried valiantly to master her cough. She was a
tiny scrap of a girl, her eyes very large in her peaky
face. Her hair was limp and bedraggled, but tied
up jauntily with a bright red ribbon, which sadly
emphasized her eerie pallor. Her eyes popped as
she coughed, her whole face contorting alarmingly
– but as soon as she could draw breath she grinned
at me.

'Hello, Hetty! Oh my Lord, look at your red
hair! That's a queer dress – do you like it? How
old are you? Do you have a mother? How much did
you get for one posy? I got threepence one day 'cos
the gentleman took a shine to me!'

'Now, Lil, give Hetty a chance to answer!'
said Sissy, laughing. 'She don't see many folk
now, Hetty, so that's why she's so excited to see
you. You have a little chat with her while I run
out for more water and some supper.' She jingled
the coins in her pocket. 'We'll have a treat
tonight, girls!'

I sat on the edge of Lil's mattress and let her
question me relentlessly. I told her all about the
Golden Jubilee, and Madame Adeline at the circus,
and my night on Hampstead Heath, and the
Zoological Gardens, and the horrid gentleman who
seized me before Sissy rescued me.

Lil listened, wide-eyed. 'Dear Sissy! She's always
looked out for me and she'll look out for you too,
Hetty,' she said. 'When I die, perhaps you can be a
comfort to her.'

Her words came as a total shock. I blinked at her
anxiously, not knowing what to say. 'I'm sure you'll
get better, Lil,' I mumbled.

'No, no, I'm coughing blood. That means you're
dying. Can't fool me!' said Lil. 'I'll miss Sissy so
when I'm dead.'

'And she will miss you too, Lil, terribly. But at
least you'll be with your mother then,' I said, trying
to be comforting.

'I'll be with Mother?' Lil echoed. 'Oh, I should
like that very much! Are you sure, Hetty?'

'Certain,' I said, trying to sound convincing. 'Your
mother is up in Heaven, and when you die you will
be an angel with her.'

'An angel with wings? Will I be able to fly?'
Lil asked.

'Oh yes, you'll have great white feathery wings
and be able to fly all over Heaven. Sometimes
you might swoop down to earth and see Sissy and
make sure she's all right,' I said, warming to this
theme.

'Oh, I'd love that! Will she be able to see me or
are angels invisible?'

'She might just catch a glimpse of you, or hear
you whispering her name,' I said.

I'd never glimpsed my brother Saul or heard him
calling me – but I
had
sometimes felt a poke in my
ribs, as if he'd prodded me with his old crutch.

Lil spread her arms and flapped them like wings,
but the effort made her start coughing again.

'Oh, Lil, don't cough so,' I begged, frightened
that she might die then and there in front of me.

I tried to give her the murky water in her cup, but
she just choked and spluttered. I patted her helplessly
on her back, feeling her sharp little shoulder blades
under the thin stuff of her nightgown – almost as if
she was already sprouting small wings.

'There now,' said Sissy, bursting into the room,
bringing with her a warm savoury smell. 'Oh dear,
Lil! Here's some fresh water. Clever girl, Hetty, it
helps to rub her back. Now, Lil, see what a feast I've
got –
and
some more of that nice medicine. Oh, how
it will soothe your poor chest. We're going to get you
better and running about in no time.'

It was clear that Sissy wouldn't have any truck
with talk of dying and angels. She held the medicine
bottle to Lil's lips and made her swig a mouthful
between coughs – and it did seem to help a little.
Then Sissy unwrapped a waxed-paper parcel to
show us three large potatoes and a quantity of
fried onions. We seized a potato each and munched
ravenously.

They tasted very good, though they were not
quite the great treat I had expected.

'What did they feed you at this hospital place,
bread and water?' asked Sissy.

'Yes, they did give me bread and water,' I said,
remembering my night in the punishment attic.

'Was they really cruel to you, Hetty?' asked Lil.

'Really, really cruel,' I said.

'Did they beat you with a big stick?'

'Well . . . they had whips,' I said.

'Whips!' said Lil, her eyes round. 'Did they whip
you till you bled?'

'They were always
threatening
to whip me,' I
said. It sounded a little lame. 'They once locked me
up in a little attic room all day and all night, and
that was far worse than being whipped. Imagine,
Lil, being shut up in a tiny room, a total prisoner . . .'
My voice trailed away, because Lil could imagine it
all too well.

'Did they go out and get sodden drunk and
then come back and beat you in a fearsome rage?'
asked Lil.

I pictured Matron Bottomly and Matron Peters
glugging from a gin bottle. It was such a bizarre idea
I couldn't help laughing – and dear Lil laughed too.

'No, they didn't drink, but they frequently got
into fearsome rages, especially with me.'

'Did they all hate you, Hetty?'

'Yes! Well, both matrons did. Some of the nurses
were all right. Nurse Winnie was very kind, but the
teachers were very cruel. Miss Morley once beat
my friend Polly with a ruler and I snatched it away
and beat her back,' I said, getting a little carried
away.

'You had
teachers
?' said Sissy. 'Did they learn you
to read and write, Hetty? Could you teach our Lil?
She's very bright, I know she is. If she could only
read, it would pass the day for her.'

They had no books or paper but I improvised,
'writing' on the bare floorboards with a sooty stick.
Sissy squashed up beside us on the mattress. I
taught them
a
and
b
and c, making them sound out
each letter. When Lil succeeded in spelling out
cab,
we clapped her. She got so excited she jumped about,
and that started her coughing again, very badly this
time, as if she would never stop. Sissy held her close
and gently laid her down when she stopped at last.

'There now, my little Lil. No more excitement for
today. You go to sleep, dearie. You should try and
sleep too, Hetty.'

I lay down beside Lil on the mattress, fully
clothed. I had no nightgown and I could not take off
my frock as I would reveal I had no underwear.

'Have you read lots of books, Hetty?' said Sissy.
'How about telling Lil one of the stories to help her
get off to sleep?'

'Once upon a time there was a very little girl no
bigger than my thumb,' I started. 'She was so tiny
she curled up every night in a walnut shell . . .'

We all curled up too and went sound asleep until
the girls' father came stumbling into the dark room.
I felt Sissy tense and Lil gave a little frightened
whimper as he staggered over to our mattress. He
bent over us, smelling horribly of beer.

'All tucked up like birds in a nest,' he mumbled,
slurring his words. 'Goodnight, my chicks. Cheep-
cheep!' He laughed at his own joke and then crawled
on his hands and knees to his own mattress. He fell
on top of it and was snoring heavily in seconds.

'Thank the Lord he's happy-drunk rather than
roaring for a fight,' Sissy whispered. 'We never know
how it will take him.'

'Does he get drunk
every
night?' I said.

'If he has the money. He's been so much worse
since Mother died,' said Sissy. She sounded much
younger now – and despairing. 'He used to work at
the docks, but he can't hold down a job, the state
he's in. I have to earn to keep us all. I never make
quite
enough.'

'I'll help you, Sissy. I'll look proper mournful tomorrow and
we'll make a fortune, you'll see,' I said.

Sissy got up before dawn, moving slowly and softly
so as not to wake Lil.

'Sissy?' I whispered.

'I'm off to market to buy my flowers,' she
murmured.

'I'll come with you,' I said, though I was dizzy
from lack of sleep.

I was already dressed and I seemed to have given
up on washing, so I was ready in an instant. It was
raining, which made my lack of boots particularly
uncomfortable. My feet were numb from walking
across the slippery cobblestones. It was a struggle
keeping up with Sissy.

We walked to the huge market at Covent Garden,
abuzz with activity though it was still dark. Even
though I was exhausted, I paused to marvel at all the
wagon-loads of peas and potatoes, the barrows and
carts piled high with tomatoes and lettuces, the great
baskets scarlet with cherries and strawberries.

There were people fresh from the country, tall
men in smocks like Father, round red-faced women
like Mother, reminding me painfully of long-ago
times. Sissy tapped me gently and we walked on
to the flower market. Again I was dazzled, my eyes
stinging with the shock of such bright colours, sunny
yellow asters, hot orange pokers, fat pink peonies,
blue and deep-purple lupins, my nose wrinkling
with the overpowering smell of roses and great
white lilies.

Sissy sprang into action, bargaining with last
night's money until she had a huge basketful
of flowers. Then we sat beneath the big arcade,
fashioning the flowers into bright bouquets and tiny
posies. I tried to help her, though I still felt light-
headed and my hands were clumsy. When at last we
were done, she spent her last penny at the coffee
stall, sharing the hot drink with me. We had no
more money for buns or rolls, but Sissy kept a sharp
eye on the floor of the fruit market and snatched
up a discarded withered apple and a bruised pear,
providing us with a meagre breakfast.

We went to the steps of St Martin's, but another
older flower-seller was there already, and she
wouldn't let us stay too. Sissy tried Charing Cross
Station, but again we were too late. We had to go
to the square off Regent Street, though Sissy made
me sit close beside her, and whenever any weird-
seeming gentleman paused, she put her arm round
me protectively. There weren't too many gentlemen,
weird or otherwise, because the rain was relentless.
I wasn't really
cold
because it was summer, but I
felt chilled right to the bone, and by afternoon my
stomach was rumbling pathetically.

'Aren't you hungry, Sissy?' I asked.