Trapped in 1895

Cheryl was coming to the end of her shift when Nicholaus came up to her.

“There’s a weird old man who wants to see you in the bar.”

Oh shit, thought Cheryl, and went downstairs. She was expecting Ugly Dan and got him, but drew her breath in when she spotted the woman beside the disgusting old man. Lousy Lucy, who was spotless and actually looked attractive.

“’ello again. I got another job for you.”

“Look, I’m getting tired of your jobs. Why don’t you just let me pay you off?”

Ugly Dan ignored her and turned to Lucy beside him.

“Tell her, Lucy, what happens to women who don’t pay their debts to Ugly Dan?”

Lucy played with her drink for a minute, then looked Cheryl straight in the eyes.

“You’re lying in bed one night, then they snatch you. Next thing you know, you are being auctioned off for the amount of money you owe him, then you spend the rest of your life as a whore.”

She said it with such sincerity Cheryl believed her.

“Ok, what do you want and do I get paid?”

“You’ll get twenty quid. There is an eight-year-old young girl in Cleveland Street Workhouse. I want you to go in, find her, then bring her out to me.”

“What do you want with a young girl?” asked Cheryl suspiciously.

“None of your business. Just do your job and don’t fail,” replied Ugly Dan with an ominous tone in his voice. He handed her an envelope and said, “This is her name and description.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow is a good start. I have arranged it so you skip the interview with the governor’s board. The Master will be expecting you. Meet Lucy at this address early tomorrow and she will fix you up.”

Cheryl gave a depressing sigh and went back to work, wishing she was back in front of a terminal trying to get servers to work.

At dawn, Cheryl stood on the steps of a decent little cottage. She had dressed herself in her scullery maid dress in an attempt to look poor. Lucy opened the door with a merry greeting.

“Come in love. How’s your hair?” She asked with a laugh. Cheryl felt an instant need to scratch herself.

“Quite louse free, but thanks anyway.”

“Now strip off.”

“What?”

“Look, if you turn up in those clothes, they will think you’re trying to dodge work. A scullery maid would be able to find a job. They will stick you in the worst jobs in the workhouse. I’ll make you look like your in desperate needs.”

Cheryl was a little worried about this as Lucy pointed to a pile of old smelly rags.

“What are these?” she asked, holding something at arm’s length and wrinkling her nose.

“Bloomers.”

As Cheryl pulled on the rags, she asked if they had lice.

“Probably,” was the reply. When she had finished, Lucy took some coal dust and rubbed it over Cheryl’s face till she looked like a homeless woman who has lived on the streets for years.

“Now follow me, but keep your distance. You’re smelling rather pungent,” said Lucy, and led them to the workhouse gate.

“Ok, we’re going in. Now listen, life in a workhouse is not like the police cells, but still pretty bad. However, although you can’t leave the cells, you can leave the workhouse whenever you want, just give them a few hours’ notice but don’t leave with your workhouse clothes on or you will be charged with stealing workhouse property. Understand?”

Cheryl nodded, and they entered the office.

“I want to see the Master,” she announced.

A man with a large belly and an air of absolute authority came out. He nodded to Lucy and sneered at Cheryl.

“Ugly Dan sent me,” she said and handed the Master a package. He weighed it in his hand, tore open one end, then stuffed it in his pocket. He sat at a desk and signalled Cheryl to stand in front of him but not too near. Once he finished the paperwork, he rang a bell. A stern-looking woman came out.

“Put her with the last lot.”

The woman snapped her fingers at Cheryl and signalled her to follow her through a door. Then entered a small room with three other women standing in a row. Three others came in behind her. They were all in dirty clothing and looked as though they hadn’t bathed in years. Another woman, a small one, stood waving a cane and demanding silence.It took some time before Cheryl went through the door. Two women were in this room and the cheery looking one said, “Take your clothes off, dearie, and put them in this sack. You’ll get them back all clean and laundered when you leave.”

Cheryl removed her clothes till she was standing, shivering, in the middle of the room. Without warning, the other woman started spraying her with a disinfectant over her whole body, not missing a single square inch till it was dripping off her.

“Stand over there for a few minutes, then go through that door.”

Cheryl complied, wet and shivering, till a little bell rang and she went through the door. Several women were there and a couple of naked ones were sitting on stools with something on their hair. A nurse, in uniform, seemed in charge.

“Fill the bath,” she ordered, and a woman turned the cold water tap on.

‘Oh god, not a cold bath,’ but when it was half full she turned the hot water tap on and the nurse measured the temperature.

“Get in,” she ordered, and Cheryl entered the warm tub and sat down. The nurse towered over her, and with intimidating authority, gave her a bar of soap.

“Start washing every single part of your body thoroughly and I will be watching you closely. If I feel you are not complying with my wishes, these women will do it for you.”

Two enormous women stood behind the nurse. Cheryl was happy to comply and scrubbed herself till the nurse said, “Enough, get out and dry yourself, then sit on a stool.”

Cheryl towelled herself and sat on a hard wooden stool till a woman approached with a bowl of smelly liquid. Wrapping a hand around her neck, she pulled Cheryl’s head down and began rubbing the liquid into her hair until her entire head was covered in the smelly liquid. She sat with the others, watching another woman being bathed. Half an hour later, several women came in and began washing their heads, then brought out scissors and a razor.

“Oh god, please, don’t shave my hair off,” she begged.

“Oh stop it. We are only going to shave around your ears and neck. It helps to keep the lice down.”

When they were finished, all six women were given a pile of clothing and entered another room with benches.

“When you have finished dressing, go through that door.”

The clothes they put on were all clean, but the underwear was rough and coarse while the dresses were drab and shapeless, falling from neck to ankle. Printed in large letters on the rear of the dress was a number and the words ‘Property of Cleveland Street Workhouse.’ The room they entered was a dormitory of twenty single beds. An attendant took them to their bed.

“Remember the number and wait for the dinner bell. Through that door, it will lead to the dining hall.”

The woman left, leaving them alone. They looked at each other, then one said, “Are we allowed to talk?”

“Just don’t talk loudly. They hate noise and you could starve if you make too much,” said an old woman.

“You were here before?” asked a ginger haired young woman.

“Lots of times,” said the old woman.

Before they could talk much further, a bell rang.

“Dinner time,” said the old woman and sprung up, heading for the door. The others followed. The dining room was vast and a large crowd of women entered in an orderly fashion, walking single file down between benches before coming to their seat, each position being filled one by one and in silence. They sat with their hands in their laps and heads bowed till the last one entered, then a priest came out and said grace. The single word, ‘Amen’ rang throughout the hall. People began eating and whispering to each other. No one dared speak out loud. The food was plain but sufficiently nourishing, washed down with a pint of beer. Another bell rang and everyone filed out, one by one.

As they filed out of the hall, an overseer would ask each their name, then direct them to their job. She came to Cheryl, looked at her carefully, then said, “Oakum shed. Over there.”

She was led out to another hall filled with benches and big tubs, full of bits of tarred rope.

“Grab a seat,” said the old woman she recognized. “This is where they put you if they think you’re trying to dodge work.”

“What do you do?”

“See this thing,” she said, holding up a large iron spike, “you dig it into the ropes and tease out the fibres into these buckets between your feet. Like this.”

She demonstrated it to Cheryl and for the rest of the day, Cheryl tried her best till her hands were sore and raw. At least she didn’t have to work in the prison cells.

The bell sounded to stop work, and they all filed back into the dining room for supper, then to the dormitories to prepare for bed.

The morning bell went off and Cheryl rose to a breakfast of bread and cheese, but instead of being sent to the oakum sheds, she was sent out to a large vegetable garden. Although there was nobody directing them they each seemed to know what to do. Cheryl started pulling the weeds out between the carrots and began whispering to her neighbour.

“Hi, my name’s Cheryl Brown.”

To her delight, she answered.

“Charlotte Evans.”

“Will we get in trouble talking?”

“No, just as long as you whisper and do your work.”

“What happens to the children?”

“They’re taken away and put into another part of the building. Why do you have a child there?”

Thinking quickly, she said, “I have a sister, half-sister in there. Will I be able to see her?”

“Yes, on Sundays, after dinner, for an hour.”

“Have you children?” asked Chery

“No, but plenty of women here have. We’re separated from our menfolk and children. We never see the men, though, till we leave.”

“How can you get into the children’s yard?”

Before she could answer, a big woman came up and kicked her.

“You. Get up and start spreading the horseshit amongst the potatoes.”

Cheryl stood up and looked at the huge pile of steaming, smelling horse dung. Women were shovelling it into sacks, slinging them over their shoulders and carrying them to different parts of the garden. Cheryl joined them and was soon carrying her sack to the potatoes. She upended it and was about to go back to fill it.

“Hoy, where do you think you’re going?”

“To get more horse-dung,” she said to a mean faced, thin woman.

“Are you going to spread that lot? “, she asked, pointing to the dung heap.

“But I’ve got nothing to spread it with.”

“Use your bloody hands or don’t you think you’re good enough? Spread them or go without food for two days.”

Closing her eyes and blocking out the smell, she began spreading the horse dung. The morning was spent carting horse dung and spreading it until they were given time to clean themselves for dinner. Cheryl was busy trying to scrub the horse dung from her hands when Charlotte came up.

“No matter how hard you scrub, you can never get the smell of horse dung off your hands,” said Charlotte.

“How come you didn’t do any of that?” asked Cheryl.

She looked bashfully at this, then looked around to make sure no-one was listening.

“I try to be nice to everybody,” she said, smiling lamely.

“And does it work?” asked Cheryl.

“Ooh yes. Life is so much easier when you’re kind and pleasant to people. Oh, and always agree with them”

“Could it get me into the children’s quarters?”

Without warning, a large cane came crashing down on the metal sink between Cheryl and Charlotte. The angry-looking woman completely ignored Charlotte and turned on Cheryl.

“You’re making too much noise, and that is forbidden. I intend to report you to the Master. You’ll be thrown in solitary for a week,” she snarled and strode off, leaving Cheryl shaking. She really didn’t want to spend a week in solitary.

“Don’t be worried. Now, if you are nice and very apologetic, all you will lose is one day’s food.”

Cheryl frantically ran after her, drying her hands on her dress. She caught up to the stern woman and fell to her knees in front of her.

“Miss, miss. Please forgive me. I’m new here and didn’t know I was going to be very quiet.”

“Oh get up, you stupid girl. I’m a missus and there is something you can do for me, but it means giving up your meals today and tomorrow.”

“I.. I don’t get anything to eat for two days.”

“Do you think you deserve it?”

Cheryl’s shoulders slumped.

“No, ma’am”

“Come with me,” she said, just as the others were filling in for dinner, but Cheryl’s luck was in. The overseer led Cheryl into a passage emerging in the children’s quarters, then through into the children’s infirmary. The smell of which was revolting as sick children vomited and suffered diarrhoea with almost no-one to attend them.

“The Master has cut the funding again,” she said, softly this time, “and I had to get rid of the cleaners. The nurses won’t clean up vomit and, you know what? As punishment, you will spend your meal times and rest times cleaning it up. Understand.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you ma’am. I’ll be very diligent, ma’am,” said Cheryl, thinking it couldn’t have worked out better. The overseer showed her where the cleaning gear was stored and she set about cleaning the putrid mess and almost as fast as she cleaned the vomit up, another child emptied their stomach on the same spot. At the end of the hour, the overseer came and got a tired and hungry Cheryl, taking her to the oakum shed. When the rope unravelling came to an end, the overseer, once more, came and took her back to the infirmary.

She was mopping up a mess beside a bed and noticed a young boy looking at her.

“Hello,” she said, but he didn’t say anything.

“He doesn’t talk,” said a girl’s voice on the bed beside her. Cheryl got a shock when she looked at her white, gaunt face with sunken black eyes and she immediately burst into a bout of coughing. It reminded Cheryl of the teenager in the cells.

“He hasn’t talked since they took him from his mummy.”

Cheryl turned to the boy and said, “I’m sure your mummy is well and will see you soon.”

The boy just looked with a blank stare as the girl said, “His mum died two weeks ago.”

“Oh, you poor boy,” said Cheryl. collapsing on the bed with her hand on his head.

“My mum died when my daddy killed her and they hung him. It doesn’t matter, I’m going to die soon,” said the girl, bursting once more into a violent, bloody coughing fit. Against her better judgement, she asked the girl if she knew of a Mandy Whitehouse. The girl was about to speak, then burst out coughing again. However, the boy got out of bed and took her hand, leading her to the opposite end of the ward. He pointed to a small, naked girl lying on her stomach with horrible red, bleeding stripes up and down her body.

Christ, she thought.

“Is this Mandy?”

The boy nodded, and a voice yelled out, “What are you doing up there, woman?”

Cheryl grabbed her mop, and the boy ran back to his bed.

“Cleaning the mess, sir, somebody had diarrhoea here. Do you want to see?”

“No, no. Just hurry up,” said the man and ran off. The overseer came back to take Cheryl to the dormitory, and she went to bed hungry.

The overseer stopped Cheryl from getting breakfast and took her to the infirmary, and left her there. She went to the boy and girl’s bed but the girl was gone and the bed was stripped of all sheets. She felt sad, but the boy smiled brightly at her.

“It would be nice if I knew your name,” she asked, but he just smiled. Looking around, Cheryl hurried to Mandy’s side, and she was just lying there, obviously unattended. She pushed her gently on the shoulder, worried she might be dead, but she groaned and turned her head and immediately whimpered and went into the foetal position.

“It’s all right, don’t be afraid. Are you Mandy Whitehouse?”

She whimpered.

“Ok, I’ll be back.”

The whole ward was devoid of any adult presence, even though children were moaning and crying for help. Cheryl came back with a bowl of clean water and a clean cloth and proceeded to carefully wash the child, taking great care over the bleeding whelps. She was surprised to find the boy at her side, pulling her skirt frantically. Cheryl looked up straight at the overseer.

“Your breakfast has finished,” she said and took the cloth from her.

“Can you find the way back to the vegetable garden?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I’ll finish what you started. Now go before they come.”

Cheryl made her way along a corridor leading to the vegetable garden when a door opened and an arm wrapped itself around her neck, dragging her into an empty room. The assailant threw her to the ground and, with a knee on her chest, pinned her to the ground. Another foot thudded into her ribs and a woman’s voice said, “The word is you’re looking for Mandy Whitehouse.”

“Get off me. I can’t breathe.”

Again, the boot thudded into her ribs.

“Answer me or it will be your last.”

“Yes, yes. I’m looking for her.”

“Let her up,” said the voice. Cheryl staggered up grasping her ribs and leaned against the wall. Two women stood opposite her. Women that looked as though they knew how to hurt other women.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

One woman drove her fist into Cheryl’s stomach, causing her to double up, struggling to breathe. The other woman grabbed her hair and pulled her upright.

“I’ll ask you again and if you don’t answer my friend here will put her knife where you won’t like it.”

The woman pulled a knife from under her skirt and lifted Cheryl’s dress.

“In the infirmary. They beat her with canes, and I don’t know if she will live.”

The woman stared into Cheryl’s eyes.

“Where is she?”

“Last time I saw she was in the infirmary ward.”

“If you’re lying, bitch, I’ll kill you.”

She slammed her fist into her stomach, causing Cheryl to double up in agony, once again struggling to breathe and vomit at the same time. The two women sped off towards the infirmary. Cheryl staggered into the hallway just when Charlotte passed by.

“Good god, what happened to you?”

“You’ve got to help me. Two women attacked me now. They’re going to kidnap a little girl.”

“Right, come with me.”

Charlotte led Cheryl to a room with six men around a table, eating. When she burst into the room, six eager faces looked up.

“Relax, gents. This isn’t a social call. My friend needs help.”

The six eager faces turned towards Cheryl.

“Explain it to them, Cheryl, before they burst a blood vessel.”

When Cheryl finished, a man, who appeared as the supervisor, said, “Can you recognize these women?”

Chery felt the sides of her ribs and said, “Yes.”

“You three search the corridors looking for any woman who shouldn’t be there, and you two come with me to the infirmary.”

They were not far from the infirmary when they heard a child screaming. They burst into pandemonium. The overseer was on the floor unconscious and children were crying and screaming all around. The two women were trying to restrain the girl who was fighting like a demon.

“For gawd’s sake, don’t hurt her,” said one of the women just as the girl poked a finger in her eyes, causing her to be dropped.

“Oh, god, The little bitch has blinded me.”

The girl squirmed under the nearest bed and the other woman dropped to her knees to get her out. By this time, the men reached them and pulled the woman up as a nurse, several women and men came pouring in.

“What the hell is going on here?” demanded the nurse. The supervisor explained everything and ordered the women to be taken away and Cheryl was hauled up before the Master, who looked at Cheryl as if he was struggling to remember her.

“Why did these women want to kidnap a homeless orphan?”

“I don’t know,” replied Cheryl, “but I wanted to protect my sister from a sadistic monster that would beat a little girl like that.”

The Master sighed.

“That would be Grimes. I’ve tried to get rid of him, but his son is on the board. If you’re her sister, how come your names are different?”

“I’m born out of wedlock. My mother married her father. She’s my half-sister,” replied Cheryl, amazed at her inventiveness.

“Nothing in here about living family members. Can you prove that?”

An image of the girl’s beaten buttocks flashed through her mind.

“She has a birthmark in the shape of a purple cherry on her left buttock.”

The Master examined the paperwork then his head snapped up.

“I remember you. You look much nicer cleaned up,” he said, then bent down and wrote something in the ledger, “I have added you as the girl’s sister and will be released into your care when you leave.”

“Oh good. I would like to leave today.”

“Unfortunately, you cannot leave until my medical staff says it’s safe for the girl to be released. Tell you what. I can transfer you permanently to the cleaning staff till we can. That way, you can keep a watch on her.”

Inwardly, Cheryl groaned. Back to cleaning up messes again, but she accepted the deal.

“Unfortunately, according to the records, you are being punished by being denied food till tomorrow, so you might as well start now and finish at bedtime.”

When she went back to the ward, the girl was still on her stomach, but a clean sheet covered her and the welts that broke the skin were properly treated and covered.

“Hello, Mandy.”

She got a weak hello back.

“I’m going to look after you but if anyone asks it is very important you say I am your sister, Cheryl.”

She smiled and nodded. Cheryl stroked her hair and thought it might be fun to have a sister, then got back to work as a voice yelled out.

Cheryl caught up with Charlotte at breakfast, her first food in three days. After Cheryl demolished her bread and cheese, Charlotte took pity on her and gave her half her cheese.

“What happened to the two women?”

“Up before the magistrate, probably go to prison for a long time but be careful. They might have friends around.”

They marched out to the vegetable garden again. A woman handed Cheryl a spade and Charlotte a garden fork.

“There’s a plot at the back corner of the garden that has been lying unused since last summer. It’s full of weeds. Dig them, turn over the earth and get it ready for planting.”

They made their way to the back plot and Charlotte started turning the earth as Cheryl pulled the weeds out. As Cheryl straightened up Charlotte yelled, “Duck.” Cheryl ducked her head and a huge stone flew by. A man got up from a bush and ran. Charlotte grabbed the garden fork and threw it like a spear coming down on the man pining his ankle to the ground. Cheryl and Charlotte pounced on him. Cheryl sat on his back and Charlotte held the fork above his head.

“This will make a nice hole in your head if you don’t tell us who you are?”

“I’m nothing, miss, nobody. Somebody paid me to throw that rock.”

“Who?”

“Honest, I don’t know. It was done in the quiet.”

Cheryl stood up.

“Tell your boss that Ugly Dan will find out about this. Now get lost.”

He ran off as fast as he could as an overseer approached them.

“Everything alright here?”

“Yes.”

“Back to work then.”

Cheryl stood in the Master’s office waiting for Mandy. The journey out was much more pleasant than going on. Her clothes were all clean, laundered, and vermin free. A nurse came out, leading Mandy by the hand and Cheryl’s heart almost broke at the sight of her. Her hair had been almost cut off, and she was bowed over. When she walked out she walked with a limp, but she gripped Cheryl’s hand tightly. The Master made a notation in his ledger and said, “Goodbye, Miss Brown, and good luck.”

Cheryl and Mandy left the workhouse hand in hand. Using the money she got paid in the workhouse, they caught horse drawn omnibus to the Professor’s house and entered the kitchen.

“Oh my, Cheryl, you’ve come back.”

“You know I wouldn’t go anywhere else, Mrs. Cole.”

“And who is this lovely little girl?”

Mandy peeked out from around Cheryl, and she knelt down to look at the child.

“This is a poor, frightened, abused little girl that I’m promising is going to be safe and happy in the future.”

Mandy wrapped her arms around Cheryl’s neck.

“Well, then,” said Mrs. Cole, “you better get her something to eat while I make a bed for her in your room.”

Cheryl made a little meal for the three of them and had to slow Mandy down.

“I hope you are going to church tomorrow.”

“Yes, and Mandy is coming too. Have you decided to go again.”

“I have, and I have made up with the vicar. We had dinner together and put our differences aside. I’m looking forward to getting to knowing him better.”

Cheryl was standing on the church steps with Mandy and Mary when Ugly Dan appeared.

“This is new,” said Cheryl, “it’s usually at the Black Stallion.”

Ugly Dan ignored her and said, “So, this is the girl.”

The ‘girl’ jumped behind Cheryl.

“It is.”

“I’ll take her now,” said Ugly Dan.

“No! You won’t until I know what you’re going to do with her,” said Cheryl, fully aware of the danger of opposing Ugly Dan.

“Well, well. The girl has plucked. I don’t care. You can finish the job and take her to her father.”

“I thought she was an orphan.”

“She was up to two months ago. His Lordship did not know he had a daughter. It seems he had a fling with a tavern maid nine years ago and she fled without telling him he was a father.”

He pulled a sheet of paper from his grubby coat.

“Take her to this address today and don’t fail me or your pluck won’t save you.”

Ugly Dan joined his men and strode off.

“We’ll go find your father straight after church and here is the very person to help us.” she said, smiling as Harry walked up.

“Going to church now, Harry,” said Cheryl.

“Mrs. Cole’s idea. Seemed to think it would make me a better man of me.”

“Good, can you help me after church? We need a lift in your cart.”

The address on the paper was in Gloucester Street. An upper class area, occupied by distant relatives of noble families or those nobles whose wealth had been sapped by their forebears.

Harry halted his work cart outside a well-maintained terrace house and Cheryl jumped down. Harry lowered Mandy down into Cheryl’s arm. When she reached the door, she swung the large brass door knocker.

Instead of a butler, a grey-haired man in a woollen jumper, smoking a pipe, stood there.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Lord Cowley?”

“And why?” said the grey-haired man.

“I have his daughter,” she replied, gently moving Mandy forward.

“My god,” said the man, and sank to his knees. He put his arms around the girl and she grimaced in pain. Cheryl touched the man.

“Be careful. She has been injured.”

“I’m Lord Cowley. I’ve been looking for my daughter for months. I can’t thank you enough.”

He took Mandy’s hand and led her inside, then closed the door.

“Don’t mention it,” said Cheryl to the closed door and returned to the cart.