Nick himself for the right price.’ Martha’s voice was soft. She had drawn her own conclusions about Bess’s father from listening to Kitty and Bess talk, and she pitied the pretty young girl in front of her.
‘How much would they want?’ said Bess, a little anxiously. She didn’t have a great deal in the old toffee tin on the top of her wardrobe at home. When she had been set on at the factory her father had made sure her mother doled back one shilling out of her wage packet, thruppence more than when she’d been working as a parlourmaid. It was only her mother slipping her an extra half-crown on the sly each week that had enabled her to save anything at all after she had bought her toiletries and paid for any extras, such as having her boots soled or new woollen stockings. Before she had managed her stolen evenings with Christopher her only treat had been a seat at the Avenue or Palace or one of the other picture houses with Kitty on a Saturday night.
‘Don’t worry about that.’ Martha’s voice was softer still. ‘I’m known for bein’ as good as me word an’ if I say you’re all right that’ll be enough to get it done, but you’ll have to pay after at so much a week. You could do that, couldn’t you?’
‘Aye, yes.’ Bess nodded. ‘I could do that.’ She gulped and then said, ‘How soon could they see me?’
‘I dunno, lass, but I’ll find out. The thing is, you don’t want to go to just anyone for somethin’ like this; some of the old wives don’t care what they do as long as they get paid. The woman I’ve got in mind might be as rough an’ ready as old Harry’s backside but she’s a good ’un an’ she knows what’s what. She’ll make a clean job of it, will old Maggie.’
Bess felt she was going to faint or be sick or both. She stared at the other woman from eyes so huge they seemed to fill her face.
‘You told your mam you’re in a pickle?’ Martha asked.
‘No, no one knows, not even Kitty. I can’t risk me da finding out.’ A little shiver passed over Bess’s face which said more to Martha than any words could have done. ‘You wouldn’t tell anyone?’
‘Not me, lass. Silent as the grave, I can be.’ And when Bess didn’t look reassured, Martha added, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t say nowt. I know what it’s like when you’re livin’ with someone like your da. Me own was a swine an’ all.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Put me on the game when I was nowt but eight or nine, he did.’
‘Oh, Martha.’ Up until now Bess had been both slightly afraid and contemptuous of this woman whose reputation was well known, but never once had she asked herself how a woman might come to be working the streets most of her life. Shame made her voice husky when she said, ‘How could you stand it when you were so young?’
Martha shrugged beefy shoulders. ‘You bear what has to be borne, lass, that’s what I’ve learned in life. Mind, I’d have liked to have got wed, had bairns an’ that, but what decent man would have looked the side I was on?’ For a moment Martha’s eyes were unfocused, as though she was looking at something Bess couldn’t see, and then with a seeming effort she smiled, flapping her hand as she said, ‘Anyway, don’t you worry, lass, I’ll see what I can do. A day or two an’ it’ll all be over. I’ll tip you the wink when I’ve set it up.’
‘Thank you.’ Bess tried to smile back but it was beyond her. And then as Martha made to leave, Bess caught hold of her arm. Her voice low and urgent, she said, ‘I have to do it, you see, there’s no other way. It’s not as if it’s really a baby yet, is it? It’s not going to feel anything. It’s not really living.’
The silence that fell on them had no movement in it, even the clatter beyond the confines of the toilets seeming dulled. For endless moments the two women stared at each other, one pair of eyes beseeching and the other pitying. Then
‘How much would they want?’ said Bess, a little anxiously. She didn’t have a great deal in the old toffee tin on the top of her wardrobe at home. When she had been set on at the factory her father had made sure her mother doled back one shilling out of her wage packet, thruppence more than when she’d been working as a parlourmaid. It was only her mother slipping her an extra half-crown on the sly each week that had enabled her to save anything at all after she had bought her toiletries and paid for any extras, such as having her boots soled or new woollen stockings. Before she had managed her stolen evenings with Christopher her only treat had been a seat at the Avenue or Palace or one of the other picture houses with Kitty on a Saturday night.
‘Don’t worry about that.’ Martha’s voice was softer still. ‘I’m known for bein’ as good as me word an’ if I say you’re all right that’ll be enough to get it done, but you’ll have to pay after at so much a week. You could do that, couldn’t you?’
‘Aye, yes.’ Bess nodded. ‘I could do that.’ She gulped and then said, ‘How soon could they see me?’
‘I dunno, lass, but I’ll find out. The thing is, you don’t want to go to just anyone for somethin’ like this; some of the old wives don’t care what they do as long as they get paid. The woman I’ve got in mind might be as rough an’ ready as old Harry’s backside but she’s a good ’un an’ she knows what’s what. She’ll make a clean job of it, will old Maggie.’
Bess felt she was going to faint or be sick or both. She stared at the other woman from eyes so huge they seemed to fill her face.
‘You told your mam you’re in a pickle?’ Martha asked.
‘No, no one knows, not even Kitty. I can’t risk me da finding out.’ A little shiver passed over Bess’s face which said more to Martha than any words could have done. ‘You wouldn’t tell anyone?’
‘Not me, lass. Silent as the grave, I can be.’ And when Bess didn’t look reassured, Martha added, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t say nowt. I know what it’s like when you’re livin’ with someone like your da. Me own was a swine an’ all.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Put me on the game when I was nowt but eight or nine, he did.’
‘Oh, Martha.’ Up until now Bess had been both slightly afraid and contemptuous of this woman whose reputation was well known, but never once had she asked herself how a woman might come to be working the streets most of her life. Shame made her voice husky when she said, ‘How could you stand it when you were so young?’
Martha shrugged beefy shoulders. ‘You bear what has to be borne, lass, that’s what I’ve learned in life. Mind, I’d have liked to have got wed, had bairns an’ that, but what decent man would have looked the side I was on?’ For a moment Martha’s eyes were unfocused, as though she was looking at something Bess couldn’t see, and then with a seeming effort she smiled, flapping her hand as she said, ‘Anyway, don’t you worry, lass, I’ll see what I can do. A day or two an’ it’ll all be over. I’ll tip you the wink when I’ve set it up.’
‘Thank you.’ Bess tried to smile back but it was beyond her. And then as Martha made to leave, Bess caught hold of her arm. Her voice low and urgent, she said, ‘I have to do it, you see, there’s no other way. It’s not as if it’s really a baby yet, is it? It’s not going to feel anything. It’s not really living.’
The silence that fell on them had no movement in it, even the clatter beyond the confines of the toilets seeming dulled. For endless moments the two women stared at each other, one pair of eyes beseeching and the other pitying. Then
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