The Sweeping Saga Collection: Poppy’s Dilemma, The Dressmaker’s Daughter, The Factory Girl. Nancy Carson

Minnie was taking off her dress in front of the fire, casting large, swooping shadows on the opposite wall.

      ‘Minnie … You’re back. Are you all right? What happened? I’m sorry I left you like that, but I was frit to death of what that man was going to do to me.’

      ‘Who, James? Oh, he was all right.’

      ‘So what happened after I’d gone? I thought they might come after me.’

      ‘You kneed him in the taters good and proper.’ Minnie laughed as she recalled it. ‘He couldn’t move for ages, cursing after you he was. By the time he could move, he’d decided he wasn’t gunna waste his time and money on somebody what wasn’t interested. So we drank that bottle of whisky between us …’

      ‘And then what?’

      ‘I made another two shillings out of ’em.’ Minnie chuckled contentedly. ‘Both of ’em. Honest, Poppy, this doing it for money is a lark. I’ll be rich in no time. Men are such fools – dead keen to part with their money for a quick poke.’

      Poppy sat up. ‘But you’re not going to do it regular, are you, Min?’ she asked apprehensively, concerned more for her friend’s morals than for her safety.

      ‘It’s easy money, Poppy. You should think about doing it as well. We could make a fortune on the game, you and me. There’s plenty of men about daft enough to pay. And you know me, Poppy … I love it anyway …’

      ‘You’ll catch something, Minnie, I swear. If not a baby, then something you can’t get rid of.’

      Minnie shrugged. ‘It’s a chance you take. If I do catch anything it won’t kill me. Not right away any road. I’ll have had me fun by the time it does.’

      ‘Well, I want something better out of life,’ Poppy declared. ‘I don’t want to go flitting from one man to another. What if they knock you about?’

      ‘I’d hit ’em back.’

      ‘It’s your concern, Minnie …’ Poppy lay back on the plump pillow again and sighed. ‘Night-night, I’m going to sleep now. I’m glad you’re back all right.’

      Poppy was dozing when Minnie slipped into bed beside her.

      ‘Are you still awake, Poppy?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I’ve bin thinking. If I’m gunna go on the game regular I’d better find me some lodgings. Somewhere I can take men back to. Shall you want to come with me?’

      ‘To look at lodgings, you mean, or to live with you?’

      ‘Both.’

      ‘I’ll look at lodging houses with you, if you want, but you’ll need money to pay rent in advance. That’s the way landlords work.’

      ‘Oh, I’ll soon get money, Poppy. Believe me.’

      On the Monday morning, Poppy and Minnie went to look at a back-to-back house Minnie had been told about. It was in Gatehouse Fold, a development of terraces which had been built for the influx of workers from the countryside to fill the jobs in the pits and ironworks. A miserable huddle of dwellings, it lay physically, but by no means spiritually, close to the church of St Edmund. A channel of slurry, that stunk like the open sewer it was, bisected a squalid courtyard. Poverty-stricken garb fluttered faded and dingy in the chill October breeze, strung out across a propped line that spanned the fold. Barefoot children with running noses and faces as dirty as their feet played, oblivious to the squalor, while others skulked, blatantly scheming. Poppy shuddered. It was no better, and in some ways worse, than the Blowers Green encampment.

      It had been arranged that the landlord’s agent should meet them there, a weasel of a man with unkempt curls strategically trained to cover his balding pate. Inside, the only downstairs room was bare. The unplastered walls needed a fresh coat of whitewash and the quarry-tiled floor needed a scrub. Several windowpanes were cracked. A door next to the fire grate led upstairs via a steep, narrow staircase. In the solitary bedroom the floorboards needed a sweep and a coat of woodstain, and the windows a clean. Cobwebs hung in tacky threads from the ceiling, and Poppy noticed a pair of woodlice sneaking into a crack under the window frame.

      ‘All we need is a mattress to sleep on,’ Minnie said, undaunted. ‘A mattress shouldn’t cost much.’

      ‘What about furniture downstairs?’ Poppy prompted. ‘A table, a couple of chairs, a settle …’

      They descended the stairs. Poppy noticed another door and asked where it led.

      ‘To the cellar,’ the landlord’s agent informed them.

      ‘It’s not much of a place, is it?’ Poppy said, unimpressed.

      ‘What do you expect for the money? Buckingham Palace?’

      ‘I don’t mind it,’ Minnie proclaimed. ‘It’s handy for the town … And as it’s me what’ll be paying the rent, I’m the one to decide. I’ll take it, mister.’

      ‘Three months’ rent in advance, if you please.’

      ‘Three months? Lord! How much is that?’

      ‘Nineteen shillings and sixpence.’

      Minnie looked at Poppy beseechingly. ‘Poppy, I ain’t got that much on me … Can you lend it me? I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.’

      Poppy looked around the walls with distaste. ‘Are you sure you want this place?’

      ‘Yes. Like I said, it’s handy for me work. Anyway, it’s a start. I can always get somewhere better later.’

      ‘All right, Minnie, I’ll lend you the money.’ Poppy fished out of her pocket the small soft leather bag that Buttercup had handed to her and counted out nineteen shillings and sixpence into the man’s hand. ‘Can I have a receipt or something, please? To say you’ve had the money.’

      The man smiled. ‘That, you can, miss.’ As he wrote it out, she said, ‘How soon can she move in here?’

      ‘The place is vacant. She can move in today.’

      Minnie grinned with pleasure. ‘Oh, Poppy, we’ll have to go and buy a mattress straight way.’

      The man left them with a key and went on his way.

      ‘There’s tons of things we’ll need,’ Minnie said, looking around her with pride at this dubious acquisition. ‘We’ll need bedclothes, candles, pots to cook in, cups to drink out of, plates to eat off, curtains up at the windows, as well as new furniture. We’d better go to the shops.’

      Poppy nodded, but without enthusiasm. It was curious how Minnie had already assumed that Poppy was going to share the house, when Poppy herself was reticent. Certainly, it would mean that Poppy would be paying for everything, since she was the one with the money.

      ‘Let me make one thing plain, Minnie,’ she said, in an effort to set the record straight. ‘This is your house and you’re the tenant. I’ll stay here with you till I find work, then I’ll go. I don’t mind lending you the money for things to help you get started, but you’ll have to pay me back as soon as you can afford to.’

      ‘Course,’ Minnie agreed. ‘I’ll be able to pay you back in no time. I know I will.’

      ‘Well, my money won’t last for ever.’

      The two girls walked the town for things they needed. Items that were too big to carry, such as the mattress and furniture, were to be delivered the following afternoon. The rest of the stuff, things that were easy to carry, they took themselves. They would sleep at the Old Bush that evening, settle up their bill, and move to the house in Gatehouse Fold tomorrow.

      That night Minnie decided she was going out to ply her new trade. When she returned to the inn she recounted her experiences.

      ‘I only had one chap,’ she said, taking