Pauper's Gold (34 page)

‘’Ere, ’ere, what do you think you’re doing?’

‘I’m showing you the door, that’s what I’m doing. Now you’ve done your dirty work, you can go.’

‘Dirty work, is it? It’s not me doing the dirty work. I thought Bessie would want to know.’

‘Mebbe she does and mebbe she doesn’t. Like I said, you could’ve done it in a lot kinder way. You’ve about given her a heart attack, by the look of her. So I’ll be
obliged if you’ll leave. Now!’

Flo thrust her face close to Hannah’s. ‘You’re a fine one to be handing out your orders like Lady Muck. Just remember who
you
are. Your mother weren’t no better
than her Peggy.’

‘My mother’s dead and buried. You leave her out of this,’ Hannah spat back. ‘And I don’t need no reminding of what I am, so there’s nothing you can say that
can hurt me. But you’ve hurt Bessie, so I hope you’re proud of yourself. Go on, get out of here.’

‘I’m going. And don’t ask any favours of me again.’

‘There’s no fear of that.’

When the door banged behind her, Hannah turned to bend over Bessie. ‘You all right?’

Bessie struggled to sit up. ‘Aye,’ she said heavily. ‘Right as I’ll ever be.’ She clutched Hannah’s hand. ‘Oh, Hannah, love. Go up the street and see if
you can see her, will yer?’ Tears spilled down Bessie’s face. ‘Bring her back here, Hannah. If you find her, bring her home.’

Hannah patted her hand. ‘’Course I will.’

She hurried to take down her shawl from the peg behind the back door and run round the corner and along the street towards the Brewer’s Arms. But there was no one standing in the shadows
near the doorway. Hannah looked up and down the neighbouring streets, searching this way and that. But there was no one that could possibly be Peggy. The dark, wet streets were deserted except for
the distant figure of a man, weaving his way unsteadily homewards.

Hannah bit her lip. It was almost closing time and she didn’t want to be caught hanging about on the street corner. Then she made a sudden decision. She marched boldly up to the door of
the tavern, pushed it open and stepped inside into the fog of pipe smoke, into the midst of the raucous laugher and the smell of ale.

Only women of a certain sort ever entered a public bar. Even Flo would go to the back door of the public house with her jug and wait there for the landlord to serve her nightly pint to her. The
conversation stuttered and died, and Hannah found that every eye in the room full of men turned towards her. The big landlord stepped out from behind the bar and came towards her.

‘Now, love, no offence, but I don’t allow your sort in my pub. Out you go.’

He made to take hold of her arm, but Hannah said, ‘I just came in to look for someone.’

‘I bet you did, but like I say—’

‘No, no, you don’t understand. I’m looking for a girl.’

‘Well, she’s not here, love. I promise you that.’

Another man reeled his way towards her. ‘’Sall right, Dan. I’ll look after her. And yes, yes, I’ll tek her out. Now, my pretty one,’ he leered at Hannah.
‘Looking for company, are yer?’

The landlord turned away with a shake of his head and the buzz of conversation rose again, as the drinkers lost interest.

Hannah eyed the man now holding her arm with distaste and then suddenly, an idea came to her. She smiled. ‘Isn’t that what I’m supposed to ask you?’ she said pertly,
putting her hand on her hip and swaying provocatively. The man’s smile broadened, showing a mouth of blackened and missing teeth. He put his arm around Hannah’s waist and pulled her to
him. Sickened by the stench of body odour and sour breath, she steeled herself not to repulse him. ‘I’m looking for a friend of mine. Peggy. Someone told me she was here. Have you seen
her?’

The man shook his head. ‘Naw, but don’t let’s bother about her, my beauty. Let’s go out the back.’ He gave a sniff. ‘Some places’d let us go upstairs.
But not this landlord. Won’t ’ave no goings-on on his premises, he says. He keeps an orderly house, does Dan.’

Hannah could not prevent the gleam in her eye at being given such information, but the man misunderstood it and made to pull her towards the door.

‘But there’s a nice little backyard ’ee’s got, and whilst he’s busy in ’ere . . .’

Hannah smiled into his face. ‘Let me go first and see if the coast’s clear.’

He grinned again. ‘Tha’s a good idea. Don’t want to disturb anyone,’ he leered. ‘Or be disturbed, my lovely, do we?’

She pulled herself from his grasp and made for the door. Ribald laughter followed her, but, her heart thumping, she hurried round the corner and into the back yard of the pub. She leaned against
the wall for a moment, her heart pounding, her palms sweating. The stench of the man still in her nostrils was making her want to retch. But her concern, her love, for Bessie drove her on into
untold danger. If the man should choose to come after her, she was trapped with no one to lift a finger to help her.

As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could see that there was no one there. There were two doors leading into low buildings across the yard and she opened each one, peering inside.
They were cluttered storerooms but there was no one there.

Like a thief in the night, Hannah stole back round the corner. Not daring to linger, she picked up her skirts and ran past the barroom entrance and all the way back to Bessie’s house, not
feeling safe until she was inside and leaning against the closed door.

‘Hannah? Is that you?’ came Bessie’s anxious, quivering voice. Hannah moved forward into the room. ‘Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry, Auntie Bessie, but she’s
gone. I couldn’t find her.’ Swiftly, without dwelling too long on the detail of the man accosting her, Hannah explained. ‘I went into the pub and even round the back, but she
wasn’t there.’

Bessie lay back in her chair and groaned. ‘So close, so close and we’ve missed her.’

‘Maybe she’ll come another night. I . . . I could go again.’ She didn’t relish the idea, but she would do anything for Bessie.

Bessie let out a long, hopeless sigh. ‘I don’t reckon she’ll come again. Maybe . . . maybe she came to . . . to look for her dad. He used to go on down to the pub sometimes.
Just on a Saturday night. Maybe . . . maybe she hoped to see him.’

‘Her dad?’ Hannah was shocked. ‘But . . . d’you mean she doesn’t know about . . . about her dad?’

Bessie shook her head. ‘Far as I know, she doesn’t know he’s dead. She’d gone before then.’

‘Oh.’ Hannah was thoughtful. An idea began to form in her mind, but she forbore from telling Bessie.

She had the feeling that the older woman would not be happy about it. Not happy at all.

‘I need your help. I’m sorry to ask and if you feel you can’t do it, Jim, because of your position an’ all, I’ll understand.’

‘This sounds very mysterious, Hannah. Come inside and have a cup of tea with us. Nell is just home from work and I’m not on duty until ten o’clock tonight. Tommy’s in
bed, so you can talk freely – whatever it is. Is it Bessie? Not ill, is she?’ All the time he was asking questions he was ushering her through from the front door, through their
parlour, at present sparsely furnished, into the cosy kitchen at the back of the terraced house.

‘Hannah!’ Nell exclaimed, hugging her as if she hadn’t seen her for weeks instead of only days. Whilst Nell excitedly showed her round the house and all that they had done in
the short space of time, Hannah held herself in check, even though she was bursting to confide in Jim and ask his advice, ask for his help.

At last they sat down, grouped in front of the cosy fire in the range.

‘Now,’ Jim said, gently but firmly interrupting his wife’s prattling. ‘How can I help you, Hannah?’

‘I’d better tell you the whole story . . .’ Launching into her tale, she began by telling Jim about the night Nell had come home with her hair dyed and Bessie’s outraged
reaction. Nell nodded, taking up Hannah’s story. ‘She scared me a bit. I really thought I looked like some woman of the streets, but it turned out it was because her daughter, Peggy,
had dyed her hair and . . .’ Nell shot a look at Hannah. ‘By all accounts, that’s exactly what Peggy had become. Bessie said she’d heard bits of gossip over the years and,
you could tell, she was so sad about it.’ Nell paused and looked questioningly at Hannah. ‘So, has something happened?’

Hannah nodded. ‘The day you got married. We were just going to bed after a lovely day.’ She smiled fondly at the happy couple, who exchanged a bashful glance. ‘And who should
come knocking at the door but Flo Harris. She couldn’t wait to impart a juicy bit of gossip. She said she’d seen Peggy hanging around near the Brewer’s Arms, waiting for the
fellers coming out, she said. Her and her vicious tongue . . .’ Hannah paused a moment, imagining what she’d like to do to Flo Harris, given half a chance. Then she went on, recounting
the events of that night. ‘And since then,’ she ended, ‘Bessie’s been sunk in despair. It’s awful to see her. I just want to do something to help her. I want to find
Peggy.’

Jim was thoughtful. ‘If she’s still here in the town, it mightn’t be too difficult. We know most of the girls, but there’s not many stay long.’ He grinned.
‘Not much business in this town. We move ’em on as quick as they come, that’s if we can’t actually arrest them. Now, if you were to say she’d been seen in one of the
big cities . . .’

‘She was – I mean Flo reckoned she’d been seen in Manchester.’

‘Mmm, now that might be more difficult, ’cos it’s a big place.’

‘Bessie said she might have been looking for her dad. He used to go to that pub when . . . when he was alive.’

Now it was Nell’s turn to be shocked and she repeated the very same words that Hannah had said to Bessie. ‘You mean she doesn’t even know her dad’s dead?’

Hannah shook her head. ‘Bessie thinks not.’

Nell turned to Jim. ‘Oh, poor Bessie – and poor Peggy. Never mind what she’s become. She was hurt by some feller and too proud to come home, I bet.’ Nell touched her
husband’s hand. ‘Not everyone’s been as lucky as me,’ she said huskily, ‘to find someone big enough to forgive past mistakes. Jim, we have to help Hannah find her. For
Bessie’s sake, if nothing else.’

‘But I do understand, Jim, if you can’t,’ Hannah put in, anxiously. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to risk your job.’

‘No, no, I’ll mind I don’t do that. We’re not just there to run folks in, you know. We try to help where we can.’

Hannah smiled. She, more than anyone, knew that. ‘And if it’s helping some poor girl off the streets, then I suppose it could be classed as part of my job.’ He grinned, his
kind face crinkling. ‘I’ll ask around. Ask my colleagues. I’ll look at the charge book, an’ all. See if she’s ever been brought in.’

‘Do you think she might be using another name though?’ Hannah suggested. ‘I know I would if I’d . . . if I’d . . .’ She faltered. Far from condemning Peggy,
Hannah was thinking,
there, but for this kind policeman and Bessie, I might have gone
. She saw, so clearly, that if she hadn’t had a little help from caring people at the right moment,
her life now might be very different.

Jim was wrinkling his brow thoughtfully. ‘You could be right at that. D’you have a description of her? D’you know what she looks like?’

Hannah shook her head. Nell, despite the gravity of their conversation, couldn’t help laughing. ‘I know one thing, she’s got red hair.’ The other two stared at her for a
moment and then joined in her laughter. It eased the tension and drove away some of the sadness. They were suddenly filled with more hope. The two girls had more faith in Jim than perhaps he had
himself, but in turn, he had colleagues he could enlist in his search.

‘We’ll find her,’ he said. ‘We’ll bring her home. But not a word to Bessie, Hannah. I don’t want to raise her hopes until we have definite news.’

The days passed with agonizing slowness for Hannah and Nell, but each time when Jim returned home, he shook his head sadly. ‘No news, love. I’m sorry, she must have
left the town. The lads have kept an eye open for her, but she’s skipping out of sight as soon as a policeman comes along. They do, you know, they just melt away into the shadows. I
don’t know how they do it.’

Nell sighed sadly. ‘If you ask me, their whole lives are spent living in the shadows. I suppose the only alternative for them is the workhouse and they chose the way they did.’ She
paused a moment and then added bitterly, ‘Can’t say I blame ’em in some ways.’

Jim looked at his wife thoughtfully. Nell was loved and cared for now. She was plump and rosy cheeked, with her shining hair neatly coiled, her apron crisply starched. But it hadn’t always
been so. He knew a little about her past, as much as she had been able to bring herself to tell him. But he never pried, never demanded explanations. He loved her unconditionally for the girl she
was now. But even though he had no conceit, he could see that her life could have been very different.

Silently, Jim vowed to redouble his efforts to find the missing Peggy. There was only one way he could think of; he would go out on his nights off in his own clothes. He would act like a man in
search of female company, the kind of company to be found waiting on street corners.

But first, he knew he must confide in his older colleague. Much as he wanted to help find the girl, he was determined not to risk his career and the happiness of his little family to do so.

‘Ah, well, now lad, I don’t know about that,’ Constable Robinson said when Jim told him of his plans. ‘You could be getting yourself into a bit of bother doing
that.’ He chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. ‘Does it mean so much to Hannah and this – er – Mrs Morgan, is it?’ He still remembered Hannah with affection.
He’d been taken with the golden-haired girl with the startlingly blue eyes.

‘Yes, it does,’ Jim answered. ‘Peggy’s Mrs Morgan’s daughter.’

‘Ah.’ The older man was suddenly full of understanding. He had daughters of his own and whilst he was obliged in his job to take a firm line with prostitutes, he was often filled
with a great sadness. Some of them were hard-nut cases, loud-mouthed, vulgar and beyond sympathy, but for a few, it was the only way they knew how to survive and he could find it in his big heart
to pity them. ‘Tell you what, lad. I’ll have to clear it with the inspector, but I don’t want you going out on your own. I’ll fix it so you an’ me get some nights off
together and I’ll come with you.’