Chapter One
"Oh John," whispered Elsie. "It's unthinkable. I couldn't do it." Her voice shook as she absent-mindedly twisted a piece of his hair around her finger.
"Elsie, I don't see what else there is to be done," John said hoarsely, staring straight up at the biggest hole in the bedroom ceiling. "I work and work all day, you are hectic all the time, and still we can't get food for the children. You know I like the idea of it no more than you do. But . . . things just seem to have come to a brick wall for us, Elsie."
"Surely we don't have to give away our own daughters to solve our problems, John!" Elsie said angrily.
"Shhh," he said cautiously. "The boys will hear us talking."
"They're sound asleep, John. Look at them." Sure enough, Thomas and Richard were fast asleep, curled up in their blankets on the floor.
"Look, Elsie, you know how much I hate it myself. But if we don't do something soon, we're all going to starve, including the girls! Can't you see that? Mr Hopkins is obviously about to turn us out onto the street as it is, and the grocer is refusing to give me any more food on credit - if there were only four of us, rather than six, we'd be out of this mess within several months - I've worked it out! And if we still had the boys, they could do their usual scrounging, and help you with the work, and you wouldn't be tied down looking after the girls all the time!"
"I would rather sell myself on the streets than give up Lara and Vivian," said Elsie quietly.
"I know you would, but unfortunately you can't," said John firmly.
"John, I mean it."
"You don't understand what it's like out there, Elsie. Besides, you are my wife! You can't run off with the courtesans. Who would look after the children?"
"The way you're talking, there won't be any children to look after," said Elsie quietly. She suddenly clutched John to her fiercely. "Oh John!" She started sobbing. "You know I don't want to leave you! But I cannot, I just cannot, lend countenance to the idea of giving away my girls!"
"Shhh, Elsie," said John, stroking her cold back, a stricken look on his face. "Please don't cry!"
"I will do it, John, I will! There isn't another way!"
"Elsie," said John now, more fiercely than before, "if you think you are going to go out on the streets, let me tell you now that there is no way I will allow it. You tell me there is no way you can lend countenance to the idea of giving away Lara and Vivian - now tell me this - do you think I could ever give countenance to the idea of letting you go onto the streets, you, my wife and the mother of my children? At least if we let Lara and Vivian go, they will grow up well cared for, without the shame of being the daughters of a common prostitute and a miner. They will never want for anything! The lawyer Evans has told me of many upper class and middle class families that want children to love."
"No more, John," said Elsie, sniffling. "I see your point, I do, but just give me a few days to think everything over. Please, no more."
He reached over and kissed her forehead. "Of course, love. I understand."
John went to sleep almost immediately, exhausted after his long day at the mine and his visit to the lawyer's. But Elsie lay sleeplessly on her side watching her two small daughters sleep peacefully - Lara, her beautiful, chubby toddler, and Vivian, the baby of the vivid eyes - she watched them the entire night.
*****************
The next morning Elsie scrubbed floors until her back ached, and longer, until it was agony. She got home in the late afternoon, and the two boys were sitting quietly in the cramped, dark little kitchen, waiting, covered in dirt from their day spent scrounging. They didn't stir from the floor when she came in, but looked up, their eyes large and dull-looking. "We're hungry, Mama," said Thomas.
Elsie felt a sob coming up her throat. "Are you?" she said, and sat down. "Did you not find anything today?"
"No," said Richard bleakly. "Can you give us something now?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had to pay Mr Hopkins more rent. There's nothing left. Perhaps your father will bring you something home."
The two boys sighed deeply but uttered no word of complaint. It was becoming less and less unusual for this to happen, and Elsie had to turn and walk into the other room so that they would not see her tears.
*****************
It was midnight when John finally arrived home from work the next night. He found Elsie huddled on the floor of the bedroom, holding baby Vivian.
"You shouldn't have waited up for me, love," he whispered, taking off his coat and hanging it up on the rickety old door.
"It's not a bother, John," she said.
He thought he could detect a hint of nervousness in her eyes. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing," she tried to say breezily.
"Nothing?"
"There's a mite of bread left for you in the cupboard for your supper." Elsie put Vivian down in her makeshift crib, arms shaking.
"Elsie, what is it?"
"I told you, nothing!" she turned on him.
"Oh," he heard himself saying. "Sorry."
She turned around and headed for the door, trembling. "By the by, John, there's some money in the hole in the wall."
He grabbed her shoulder. "Show me."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Here."
His eyes widened at the number of banknotes she pulled out. "Elsie . . . where did you get them?"
"Oh, you know . . . just found them, that's all." She was definitely nervous now. "You can pay off our debts now, and we won't have to give the girls away."
"You went out on the streets," he whispered disbelievingly. "You did, didn't you?"
Her lower lip quivered, but she said nothing.
For a moment he was quiet, but then the storm broke. Later, he was shocked to remember that in his fury he had hit her, and called her all manner of names, and she had cowered in the corner. Then he had stormed out into the kitchen, and thrown the chairs across the room to create a pleasing crashing noise, taken the banknotes and ripped them up, and finally sat down in the corner and wept.
Elsie, terrified of what she had done, lay curled up in bed wet with tears, watched by her startled sons, who had never seen their father so wild. She woke up in the morning to find John and the two girls gone, and she collapsed on the floor in a heap. The girls were gone. And it was her fault.
*****************
A grim John was back in the afternoon, to her relief. She wrung her hands together as he walked in, and couldn't meet his eyes. "Afternoon, Elsie."
"John - have you taken them away?" Her voice was strangely calm.
"I have," he said, slamming a loaf of bread down on one of the remaining shelves. "Mr Evans was very happy to relieve me of them. He even paid me some money for my trouble, and gave me a ride to the shops in his own carriage."
"Oh John, I'm sorry," she gasped, tears threatening to burst the fragile dams of her eyelids.
For the first time, he looked at her with a touch of compassion in his eyes. "I know. I am too. I should not have hit you."
"Where are they, John?"
His eyes hardened again. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" she cried, appalled.
"You are not going to go and retrieve them, Elsie. They will be better off. I told Evans to place them where he would, and he promised not to tell me where. He even said he would make arrangements that even he would not know, so that there was no way I could find out. A very accommodating man, Evans. The only stipulation I made was that they would be placed in a good, well- off family. He paid me a rather substantial amount of money for the girls, and on the way home I bought this bread. Elsie, you will never go out on the streets again, or I swear it, I will leave you."
"Yes, John," she said, wiping her eyes.
Of course she was relieved that John was no longer in that fearsome rage. She knew it might take him some time to get over his anger, and she was heartily ashamed of herself. Sometimes she felt like curling up into a ball and disappearing when she thought about what she had done. So there was relief.
But it was impossible for the relief to be untempered by the realisation that she would never see her babies again. She was miserable. And emotions were running through her like wildfire - why were her girls not here? Where were they?
*****************
Lara woke up confused again. She was in a big white room, in a large, heavenly bed, and to her it seemed like a dream. She bounced a little on the bed, and then went over to check on her sister Vivian sleeping in a wonderful lacy bassinet. Since Mama was not there, it automatically fell to her to look after Vivian. But she saw that Vivian was fine; sleeping quietly with a little smile on her face.
The door opened. "Good morning, dearie!" A little old woman walked in. "Now, would you like something to eat?"
Lara stared at her, wide-eyed, and didn't say a thing. She only had a few words still, and in any case would not use them on such a stranger. But the delicious smell of the bacon wafted across to her nostrils, and her stomach started to rumble at the scent of something she had only dreamt about recently. She nodded.
"Good girl!" said the lady, seemingly delighted with Lara. "You sit down here, and I'll help you with your food. Oh, before that - can you tell me your name?"
"Lara," she whispered shyly.
"Oh, that's pretty! You must call me Nanny, for I am to be your nurse," said the old woman.
"Where Mama?"
"Your Mama is right through that door," said Nanny, pointing.
Lara clapped her hands and ran as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her through gap in the door. She stopped.
Mama was not there.
Two strangers sat in the other room, and they looked very elegant to Lara's mind, used to the depths of dank, poor, lower London. The one she could see properly smiled when he saw her. "Isn't she a lovely one?" he said.
"Oh I suppose so, my dear, but we wanted boys!" replied a crotchety sounding voice hidden behind the sopha. Lara liked the man better.
"Boys will come, boys will come," replied the man. He bent down to Lara's height. "Hello, dear. What's your name?"
"Lara," Lara lisped again quietly.
"Oh dear, what a name!" said the shrill voice. "No, no, she must be something sensible, like Anne or Louisa or Mary or something."
"And what is your little sister's name?" the man asked, ignoring the woman.
"Thithian," said Lara.
"Thithian?" said the man, confused. "Ahh! Vivian!"
"Another ridiculous name," sighed the woman.
"Lara, I am your father now, and this is your mama," explained the man, leading Lara around the sopha to where a lady was reclining on it.
"Well, she is pretty, at least, isn't she?" said the woman lazily. "But my dear husband, you know youngsters are no good for my nerves! Mrs Bates will have to be a good nurse if we can keep them."
"Oh John," whispered Elsie. "It's unthinkable. I couldn't do it." Her voice shook as she absent-mindedly twisted a piece of his hair around her finger.
"Elsie, I don't see what else there is to be done," John said hoarsely, staring straight up at the biggest hole in the bedroom ceiling. "I work and work all day, you are hectic all the time, and still we can't get food for the children. You know I like the idea of it no more than you do. But . . . things just seem to have come to a brick wall for us, Elsie."
"Surely we don't have to give away our own daughters to solve our problems, John!" Elsie said angrily.
"Shhh," he said cautiously. "The boys will hear us talking."
"They're sound asleep, John. Look at them." Sure enough, Thomas and Richard were fast asleep, curled up in their blankets on the floor.
"Look, Elsie, you know how much I hate it myself. But if we don't do something soon, we're all going to starve, including the girls! Can't you see that? Mr Hopkins is obviously about to turn us out onto the street as it is, and the grocer is refusing to give me any more food on credit - if there were only four of us, rather than six, we'd be out of this mess within several months - I've worked it out! And if we still had the boys, they could do their usual scrounging, and help you with the work, and you wouldn't be tied down looking after the girls all the time!"
"I would rather sell myself on the streets than give up Lara and Vivian," said Elsie quietly.
"I know you would, but unfortunately you can't," said John firmly.
"John, I mean it."
"You don't understand what it's like out there, Elsie. Besides, you are my wife! You can't run off with the courtesans. Who would look after the children?"
"The way you're talking, there won't be any children to look after," said Elsie quietly. She suddenly clutched John to her fiercely. "Oh John!" She started sobbing. "You know I don't want to leave you! But I cannot, I just cannot, lend countenance to the idea of giving away my girls!"
"Shhh, Elsie," said John, stroking her cold back, a stricken look on his face. "Please don't cry!"
"I will do it, John, I will! There isn't another way!"
"Elsie," said John now, more fiercely than before, "if you think you are going to go out on the streets, let me tell you now that there is no way I will allow it. You tell me there is no way you can lend countenance to the idea of giving away Lara and Vivian - now tell me this - do you think I could ever give countenance to the idea of letting you go onto the streets, you, my wife and the mother of my children? At least if we let Lara and Vivian go, they will grow up well cared for, without the shame of being the daughters of a common prostitute and a miner. They will never want for anything! The lawyer Evans has told me of many upper class and middle class families that want children to love."
"No more, John," said Elsie, sniffling. "I see your point, I do, but just give me a few days to think everything over. Please, no more."
He reached over and kissed her forehead. "Of course, love. I understand."
John went to sleep almost immediately, exhausted after his long day at the mine and his visit to the lawyer's. But Elsie lay sleeplessly on her side watching her two small daughters sleep peacefully - Lara, her beautiful, chubby toddler, and Vivian, the baby of the vivid eyes - she watched them the entire night.
*****************
The next morning Elsie scrubbed floors until her back ached, and longer, until it was agony. She got home in the late afternoon, and the two boys were sitting quietly in the cramped, dark little kitchen, waiting, covered in dirt from their day spent scrounging. They didn't stir from the floor when she came in, but looked up, their eyes large and dull-looking. "We're hungry, Mama," said Thomas.
Elsie felt a sob coming up her throat. "Are you?" she said, and sat down. "Did you not find anything today?"
"No," said Richard bleakly. "Can you give us something now?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had to pay Mr Hopkins more rent. There's nothing left. Perhaps your father will bring you something home."
The two boys sighed deeply but uttered no word of complaint. It was becoming less and less unusual for this to happen, and Elsie had to turn and walk into the other room so that they would not see her tears.
*****************
It was midnight when John finally arrived home from work the next night. He found Elsie huddled on the floor of the bedroom, holding baby Vivian.
"You shouldn't have waited up for me, love," he whispered, taking off his coat and hanging it up on the rickety old door.
"It's not a bother, John," she said.
He thought he could detect a hint of nervousness in her eyes. "What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing," she tried to say breezily.
"Nothing?"
"There's a mite of bread left for you in the cupboard for your supper." Elsie put Vivian down in her makeshift crib, arms shaking.
"Elsie, what is it?"
"I told you, nothing!" she turned on him.
"Oh," he heard himself saying. "Sorry."
She turned around and headed for the door, trembling. "By the by, John, there's some money in the hole in the wall."
He grabbed her shoulder. "Show me."
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Here."
His eyes widened at the number of banknotes she pulled out. "Elsie . . . where did you get them?"
"Oh, you know . . . just found them, that's all." She was definitely nervous now. "You can pay off our debts now, and we won't have to give the girls away."
"You went out on the streets," he whispered disbelievingly. "You did, didn't you?"
Her lower lip quivered, but she said nothing.
For a moment he was quiet, but then the storm broke. Later, he was shocked to remember that in his fury he had hit her, and called her all manner of names, and she had cowered in the corner. Then he had stormed out into the kitchen, and thrown the chairs across the room to create a pleasing crashing noise, taken the banknotes and ripped them up, and finally sat down in the corner and wept.
Elsie, terrified of what she had done, lay curled up in bed wet with tears, watched by her startled sons, who had never seen their father so wild. She woke up in the morning to find John and the two girls gone, and she collapsed on the floor in a heap. The girls were gone. And it was her fault.
*****************
A grim John was back in the afternoon, to her relief. She wrung her hands together as he walked in, and couldn't meet his eyes. "Afternoon, Elsie."
"John - have you taken them away?" Her voice was strangely calm.
"I have," he said, slamming a loaf of bread down on one of the remaining shelves. "Mr Evans was very happy to relieve me of them. He even paid me some money for my trouble, and gave me a ride to the shops in his own carriage."
"Oh John, I'm sorry," she gasped, tears threatening to burst the fragile dams of her eyelids.
For the first time, he looked at her with a touch of compassion in his eyes. "I know. I am too. I should not have hit you."
"Where are they, John?"
His eyes hardened again. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" she cried, appalled.
"You are not going to go and retrieve them, Elsie. They will be better off. I told Evans to place them where he would, and he promised not to tell me where. He even said he would make arrangements that even he would not know, so that there was no way I could find out. A very accommodating man, Evans. The only stipulation I made was that they would be placed in a good, well- off family. He paid me a rather substantial amount of money for the girls, and on the way home I bought this bread. Elsie, you will never go out on the streets again, or I swear it, I will leave you."
"Yes, John," she said, wiping her eyes.
Of course she was relieved that John was no longer in that fearsome rage. She knew it might take him some time to get over his anger, and she was heartily ashamed of herself. Sometimes she felt like curling up into a ball and disappearing when she thought about what she had done. So there was relief.
But it was impossible for the relief to be untempered by the realisation that she would never see her babies again. She was miserable. And emotions were running through her like wildfire - why were her girls not here? Where were they?
*****************
Lara woke up confused again. She was in a big white room, in a large, heavenly bed, and to her it seemed like a dream. She bounced a little on the bed, and then went over to check on her sister Vivian sleeping in a wonderful lacy bassinet. Since Mama was not there, it automatically fell to her to look after Vivian. But she saw that Vivian was fine; sleeping quietly with a little smile on her face.
The door opened. "Good morning, dearie!" A little old woman walked in. "Now, would you like something to eat?"
Lara stared at her, wide-eyed, and didn't say a thing. She only had a few words still, and in any case would not use them on such a stranger. But the delicious smell of the bacon wafted across to her nostrils, and her stomach started to rumble at the scent of something she had only dreamt about recently. She nodded.
"Good girl!" said the lady, seemingly delighted with Lara. "You sit down here, and I'll help you with your food. Oh, before that - can you tell me your name?"
"Lara," she whispered shyly.
"Oh, that's pretty! You must call me Nanny, for I am to be your nurse," said the old woman.
"Where Mama?"
"Your Mama is right through that door," said Nanny, pointing.
Lara clapped her hands and ran as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her through gap in the door. She stopped.
Mama was not there.
Two strangers sat in the other room, and they looked very elegant to Lara's mind, used to the depths of dank, poor, lower London. The one she could see properly smiled when he saw her. "Isn't she a lovely one?" he said.
"Oh I suppose so, my dear, but we wanted boys!" replied a crotchety sounding voice hidden behind the sopha. Lara liked the man better.
"Boys will come, boys will come," replied the man. He bent down to Lara's height. "Hello, dear. What's your name?"
"Lara," Lara lisped again quietly.
"Oh dear, what a name!" said the shrill voice. "No, no, she must be something sensible, like Anne or Louisa or Mary or something."
"And what is your little sister's name?" the man asked, ignoring the woman.
"Thithian," said Lara.
"Thithian?" said the man, confused. "Ahh! Vivian!"
"Another ridiculous name," sighed the woman.
"Lara, I am your father now, and this is your mama," explained the man, leading Lara around the sopha to where a lady was reclining on it.
"Well, she is pretty, at least, isn't she?" said the woman lazily. "But my dear husband, you know youngsters are no good for my nerves! Mrs Bates will have to be a good nurse if we can keep them."