The Girl in the Ragged Shawl. Cathy Sharp

they call it hiring but selling is what it is,’ she’d told Eliza. ‘The first one beat me and starved me and then he died and his wife sent me back here; the second one fed me, but he wanted more than a servant and I didn’t like the stink of him so I ran away. I lived on the streets for a few weeks but then I was caught beggin’ and the beak sent me back here to the spike; since then no one has asked for me.’

      ‘Why do you not leave?’ Eliza asked innocently. ‘Could you not ask to be signed out, as the men do?’ It was easy enough to give the three hours’ notice, which was necessary for the lengthy forms that had to be signed, but to leave without permission was deemed a crime, and if you wore the clothes provided for you by the workhouse it was theft, for they belonged to the master and must be paid for.

      ‘A man may take his family out if he has work to go to, and in the spring and summer there be work aplenty for those with a strong back,’ Ruth said, ‘but for a woman ’tis not easy to find work unless it be offered afore she leaves, and the fine ladies think twice of taking a servant from the workhouse, for they think us be lazy good-for-nothings. I be not beautiful, my lovely. Not many men look twice at me, and since you came I’ve been content to bide my time here – but they will look at you when you’re older. We must get away from here before that happens, Eliza. Mistress might have sold you afore this if she be willin’ but she refused – and I worry what she plans to do with you, my lovely.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Eliza had asked, but Ruth would only shake her head and mutter something she could not understand but knew concerned her friend.

      Eliza closed her eyes. How long had she been in this cellar? Far longer than the rules allowed, she was sure. Her fingers and toes were turning numb with the cold. Her eyelids were feeling heavy and she was so tired. Surely, she should have been released before this? She felt as if she were drifting away, being dragged down in the dark cold waters of a deep cavern and it was almost too much trouble to breathe. Perhaps she was dying – and surely death must be easier than living with this pain …

      ‘Eliza! Oh, be you not dead, my lovely.’ Ruth’s voice seemed to come from a long way off. ‘I swear that I will kill that evil witch if you be dead, my sweet babe, for as innocent as a babe you are and she a hell-born monster.’

      Eliza’s mouth felt so dry and she tried to moisten her lips and ask for water but the words wouldn’t come. She felt Ruth’s rough-skinned but gentle hands stroking her forehead and her eyelids flickered. Her lips moved as she tried to speak but failed.

      ‘Sip a little of this, my lovely,’ Ruth said, and Eliza felt the sweetness of cool water on her lips and in her mouth. A trickle went down her throat and she made a little choking noise. ‘She ’ad no right to keep you shut up there that long. Now sip this for me …’

      ‘Not too much,’ a man’s voice said, and Eliza thought she knew it but she couldn’t be sure. Surely the master wouldn’t be here in the women’s side. He never bothered with the women and children, leaving all that to his sister. ‘I thank you for coming to me, Miss Jones. I cannot afford to have another child die so soon. Mr Stoneham is still demanding answers about the lad who—’

      ‘Eliza was punished for speaking out, sir. She believed it was because the mistress beat Tommy that he died.’

      ‘Well, well, no more is to be said of that, do you hear? My sister is a good warden and I won’t hear her slandered – but she should not have left the girl for so long in the cellar. One day shut up is the rule and two on short rations. I fear that she might have died had you not begged me to save her – and I have done so. You must be grateful to me and not speak ill of my sister to the doctor when he comes. The girl hid in the cellar and the door slammed on her. We have been looking for her – do you understand me?’

      ‘Yes, sir,’ Ruth agreed eagerly. ‘May I heat some milk and honey for her, sir – and then some nourishing broth?’

      ‘Yes, yes, tell Cook to give you whatever necessary, but in return you will give the story I have prepared – do you agree?’

      ‘Yes, sir, I do. Thank you for what you did, sir.’

      ‘Well, well, I am not a bad man,’ Master Simpkins said and cleared his throat. ‘My wife was an angel and she ministered to those in her charge – as you will recall, Ruth. You were but a child when she took ill of a fever and died. Was she not an angel?’

      ‘Yes, sir, ’tis so. The late mistress was a good woman and I do wish she was still with us.’

      ‘Well, well, it is what we all wish. My sister is not the woman my wife was – but she does her duty by you all. Now, I have work to do. Remember, if you are questioned by the doctor – or Mr Arthur Stoneham, in particular – you must tell them that the girl ran away and locked herself in the cellar. You do understand me?’

      ‘Yes, sir, I understand, and thank you for helping me.’

      Eliza vaguely heard their conversation and then the sound of a door closing. ‘Where am I?’ she asked, her voice cracked and hoarse. ‘Can I have some more water please?’

      ‘You’re in the infirmary and I be told to look after you. The master said I am not to leave you until you’re better, my lovely. I will bring you some warm milk sweetened with honey and you must drink it, a little at a time, for it will make you strong again. When your throat’s better you shall have bread and milk and Cook says she shall save you a little of the stew from the master’s dinner, for she always cooks too much.’

      ‘Kind …’ Eliza murmured and drifted away into sleep.

      She did not know how long she lay without stirring, but then she became aware of a man bending over her, touching her, and she cried out in fear.

      ‘Now then, child, there’s nought to fear.’ The doctor’s voice calmed her, for she had seen him tend other sick inmates. ‘There’s no real harm done. It’s fortunate your friend found you or you might have died in your hiding place.’

      ‘No …’ Eliza tried to deny the lie, but her words did not reach her lips. ‘She shut me in there …’

      ‘What 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