The Girl in the Ragged Shawl. Cathy Sharp

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ is she saying?’ a voice Eliza did not recognise asked. ‘She seems distressed.’

      ‘It is just the ordeal she has suffered,’ the doctor said. ‘There is nothing to worry about, Mr Stoneham, I do assure you. Bed rest, nourishing food and the care of this good woman here and all will be well.’ The doctor turned to Ruth. ‘Remember, keep her warm, feed her – and a bath would not come amiss. I think it must be a long time since this young lady was properly bathed; her hair is crawling with lice and this dirt on her skin did not get there in three days. It is a sin not to clean yourself and the girl must be told this. So make sure she is bathed and has clean clothes – can you do that?’

      ‘Yes, if the mistress permits,’ Ruth said.

      ‘You must do exactly as the doctor tells you,’ Mistress Simpkins said in a soft caressing voice that Eliza did not recognise. The sound of it made her whimper and try to deny her lies, but her moans just made the doctor laugh.

      ‘These children do not like soap and water, Mistress Simpkins, but cleanliness is next to godliness – and I think she must learn to keep herself clean and to pray. I do hope you take your inmates to church every Sunday while your chapel is out of order?’

      ‘Of course, sir. I am not sure it makes any impression on them, for many of them are base and idle, but we try our utmost to keep them clean in body and mind.’

      ‘Our good queen sets us all an example by her conduct,’ the doctor said in a pious tone and the mistress agreed, for since the attack on Queen Victoria’s life some years earlier the people had taken her firmly to their hearts. ‘We must all attempt to live godly lives.’

      A tear ran down Eliza’s cheek, because being dirty was one of the punishments heaped on her for disobedience. She had not been allowed to wash for weeks because she was deemed to be unworthy of the privilege. Feeling a gentle but firm hand on hers, Eliza tried to look at the man bending over her, but her eyes wouldn’t focus properly.

      ‘Things will improve, I promise,’ he said in a soft whisper that only she was meant to hear. ‘Have faith, child.’

      Eliza’s fingers fluttered, trying to communicate her need, but he’d removed his hand and he and the doctor were leaving. She closed her eyes and waited until she heard the sound of the mistress’s footsteps returning.

      ‘If ever you dare to tell Mr Stoneham or the doctor that I shut you in the cellar I shall kill you!’ she hissed

      Eliza opened her eyes and stared at her. The mistress met her look for a moment and then walked away. Eliza believed her threat, because children often died of fever or near starvation in this fearful place and one more would not be noticed. The mistress stood in place of a matron, which every workhouse was meant to have, but she cared little for the health of her inmates and anyone who was sick was left to rot in the infirmary unless Ruth or one of the other women cared for them.

      ‘Eliza, are you awake at last?’ Ruth’s face was bending over. ‘Can you drink a little milk now, my lovely?’

      ‘Yes please.’ Eliza felt herself raised against the hard pillows and a cup was held to her mouth. ‘She will punish us, Ruth. Just as soon as she thinks it safe, she will punish us again.’

       CHAPTER 2

      ‘I swear there is something badly wrong at the workhouse in Whitechapel,’ Arthur Stoneham said to his companion as they lingered over the good dinner of roast beef and several removes Arthur’s housekeeper had served them. ‘I saw a child there today and she was barely alive. The tale was that she’d fallen down the stairs of the cellar when hiding to avoid doing her work – but those bruises looked to me very like she’d been beaten, and the idea of her having locked herself in the cellar is ludicrous.’

      ‘What do you mean to do about it?’ Toby Rattan asked. The younger son of Lord Rosenburg, Toby tended to spend his days in idle pursuits, gambling on the horses and cards, riding and indulging his love of good wine and beautiful women. He yawned behind his hand, for at times Arthur could be a dull dog, unlike the bold adventurer he’d been when the pair was first on the town in 1867 when they were both nineteen years of age. Something had happened about that time and it had sobered Arthur, making him more serious, though Toby had never known what had taken that devil-may-care look from his friend’s eyes, but their friendship had held for more years than he could recall since then, despite the change in Arthur’s manner.

      ‘I am trying to change things, but it is very slow, for although some of the board are well-meaning men they believe the poor to be undeserving,’ Arthur said and laughed as he saw Toby’s expression. ‘You did not dine with me this evening to hear about such dull stuff as this, I’ll wager.’

      ‘If only you would wager,’ Toby said and smiled oddly, because he was inordinately fond of his friend, even though he did consider him slow company when he got on his high horse about the state of the poor. ‘Actually, I agree with you, my dear fellow. If it would not bore me to death I would sit on the Board of Governors with you and help you get rid of that wretched woman.’

      ‘Ah, dear Toby, as if I would ask you to sacrifice so much,’ Arthur said and arched his left eyebrow mockingly. Toby was as fair as Arthur was dark and the two men were of a similar build and well-matched in form and looks, turning heads whenever they entered a room together. Toby grinned, for his sense of humour matched Arthur’s. ‘Fear not, all I would ask of you is that you donate a small portion of your obscene fortune to helping me repair and reform the workhouse.’

      ‘In what way?’ Toby smiled affectionately, because he admired his friend’s unswerving purpose in trying to rescue unfortunates from poverty and worse. ‘Are you going to install gas lighting or new drains?’

      ‘Firstly, they need a new roof, and I have already installed some new water pipes, but there was an outbreak of cholera in that area recently and I fear more needs to be done in the area as a whole,’ Arthur said and laughed as Toby’s lazy attitude fell away and he sat forward, suddenly intent. ‘Gas lighting is going a little too far for the moment, but I was hoping for both money and your help with changing opinions. For most the workhouse is a place of correction—’

      ‘Was that not its true purpose?’ Toby interrupted.

      ‘In 1834, because the demands of the destitute were so heavy on some parishes, the law was changed so that the poor could not claim on the parish unless they entered the workhouse,’ Arthur informed him, though he doubted his friend was ignorant of the law. ‘However, it was meant as a place of refuge where men, women and children would be cared for in return for work. The rules are strict, because they have to be – but I think Mistress Simpkins is not the only one who abuses them.’

      ‘In what way?’

      ‘I am fairly certain that they interpret the laws, using them for their own benefit. That girl had been in the cellar for three days, when the legal punishment in solitary confinement is one day, and she was lucky to be alive. Only a week or so back a boy died in mysterious circumstances in that same house and I believe the conditions to be much the same in many other workhouses.’

      ‘You do not hold to the opinion that the poor are shiftless and undeserving?’ Toby murmured one eyebrow lifting. ‘Most would say they have to prove their worth.’

      ‘Money is a privilege, not a right,’ Arthur said. ‘If I had a lazy servant to whom I paid good wages I would dismiss СКАЧАТЬ