Never Look Back Page 17

  Matilda sat for a moment in stunned silence. She applauded what he was intending to do, she wanted to be part of it. Yet she knew this would involve going into that terrible place again and again, and coming home to face her mistress without letting on what she’d seen. Could she really do that?

  ‘But what about the risk of infection sir?’ she said quietly. ‘No one can reach those children and bring them out of there keeping them at arm’s length. They will all be lousy, they may very well be carrying diseases which you or I could bring home to Tabitha. I’m not afraid for myself, only her and Mrs Milson.’

  Giles suddenly knew he was right to involve Matilda. Much as he’d always been convinced he was right to rescue these children, keeping it from Lily had put him under such strain that sometimes he felt he couldn’t carry on. By sharing it now, his conviction had come back, and he suddenly saw the road ahead clearing for him. Taking Matilda along with him would ease any of Lily’s suspicions. He felt the way he had at twenty, full of vigour and enthusiasm.

  ‘We have what you might call a half-way house set up,’ he said. ‘A doctor will be there to help us. And we’ll take every precaution.’ He reached out and took her hand in his. ‘Now, could we be partners?’

  She felt a sudden warmth run through her veins like hot syrup. Maybe it would be safer to refuse, to say she’d say nothing to her mistress, but she wasn’t going to assist him in any way. But she couldn’t forget what she’d seen earlier today, or refuse to help a man intent on saving small children.

  ‘You’ll just tell Madam I’m helping you to take children to the Home?’ She needed that confirmation if Lily questioned her in private.

  ‘Nothing more. We’ll make it sound like a Sunday school outing,’ he said with a smile.

  She took her hand away from his, spat on it, and held it out again. ‘That’s how they seal bargains down in Seven Dials,’ she laughed.

  He smiled, spat on his own hand, then gripped hers.

  ‘Partners!’ they said together.

  Chapter Six

  ‘This is it,’ Giles said, flicking back the hood of his oilskin cape as he and Matilda approached a crumbling, disease-looking dilapidated corner shop just inside Five Points. ‘You’ll soon see why everyone calls these places “grog shops”. It might say “Groceries” on the window, but inside there’s precious little food in evidence.’

  It was a week ago that she saw this area for the first time, but the warm, sunny weather had ended just two days ago with a heavy storm and it had been raining ever since. Now the narrow streets and alleys were a stinking bog of glutinous mud. Even the pigs and dogs were trying to shelter against walls and in doorways, and aside from the sound of rain cascading from broken roofs and guttering there was utter silence, as if all the human residents had gone into hibernation.

  As they stepped inside the shop, a scrawny little man with a pock-marked face and filthy apron shuffled out from behind his barrels and crates of bottles. It stank of cheap liquor but it was at least preferable to the far worse smell out on the street.

  ‘Good day to you, Reverend.’ The man gave them a fawning smile. ‘Brought a little helper today, have we?’

  ‘This is my assistant, Miss Jennings,’ Giles replied in a crisp, businesslike voice. Although this Irishman had promised to direct him to where the orphaned children congregated, Giles didn’t trust him. During previous conversations he’d had strong suspicions the man’s knowledge of the children’s habits wasn’t prompted by kindly interest, but far more likely because he was in fact a procurer for the many brothels along the Bowery. ‘We’ve brought some bread and apples with us for the children. So if you could point us in the right direction to find them we won’t take up any more of your time.’

  ‘’Tis almost certain they are in the cellar of Rat’s Castle,’ the man said, looking intently at Matilda. ‘I saw one of the bigger lads crawling in as I went past this very morning. Don’t suppose they’ve moved on, not in this rain.’

  Giles blanched, Rat’s Castle was every bit as bad as the Old Brewery that Kirkbright had told him about when he first arrived in New York. Like that place, only the most desperate for some kind of shelter would go in. A policeman had informed him it got its name because of the innumerable escape routes from it which had been devised by the criminals who squatted there. He also said that on one police raid they had found three bodies of people who had been murdered, along with another four who’d died of natural causes. All these bodies had been left to rot in the cellars along with the stinking effluent of some three or four hundred people

  Thanking the man, Giles left with Matilda, but once out on the street he turned to her, his face drawn with anxiety. ‘Maybe we ought to wait for better weather when we can find the children out on the streets. Rat’s Castle is an evil place, Matty. I can’t take you in there.’

  Matilda thought for a moment. Lily had fully accepted her husband’s story that he was going out today to visit four children who had been cared for by a neighbour since their mother died, to see if they were suitable for the new Waifs’ and Strays’ Home. There was no reason why she shouldn’t believe this to be true, even back in London Giles often took on such roles from time to time. She had willingly agreed that Matilda should go with him, and had even pulled out a few outgrown clothes of Tabitha’s to help out. However, she would be suspicious if they returned saying they hadn’t located the children. Giles wasn’t any good at outright lies, and Lily would be quizzing them both all evening.

  Not liking to voice her real thoughts, Matilda looked up at the leaden sky. ‘We might have a long wait for better weather,’ she said. ‘It’s the start of autumn, sir, and before long it will turn cold. Besides, I’m not easily shocked.’

  Giles was heartened by her desire to get on with it at any cost. She looked like a street waif herself today with an oilskin cape like his, a very worn dress and shawl, and her hair tightly braided under a mob-cap. They had dressed for this excursion at Dr Kupicha’s house just beyond Five Points, and they would return there to wash and change back into their own clothes before returning home. The doctor had warned them that this wasn’t complete protection from carrying any infection home, but it was the best precaution he knew.

  ‘Well, we’ll just go and reconnoitre the place,’ Giles said. ‘We might not be able to get in there anyway. Not if there’s a few bully boys keeping watch.’

  Rat’s Castle stood at the end of a narrow passageway, and as they approached it they paused, both intimidated by its desolate appearance. To Matilda it was very reminiscent of rookeries she’d seen in Seven Dials, and judging by the many windows, pointed eaves and fancy, twisted chimney pots, the half-timbered building had once been the home of someone wealthy. But now there were gaping holes in the walls, the timbers were rotting and all the windows were boarded up. The buildings all around it had been built at a later period but they were equally dilapidated, and what must have been a stable was leaning crazily to one side, rain water gushing down what was left of the slate roof.

  There was no front door, just a gaping hole as if someone had wrenched it and its frame out for firewood. Taking a step closer, Matilda saw that the staircase at the back of a dark, rubbish-filled hall had gone the same way. The banisters had gone completely and what was left of the stairs was almost swaying in the breeze.

  The smell made her gag, and she had to move back again so she could breathe.

  ‘At least there’s no one guarding it,’ Giles said. ‘But I don’t really know how to get in, Matty. I tried to get up that staircase once before a few weeks ago and one of the treads gave way on me.’

  ‘That man in the shop said he saw the boy crawling in,’ she said. ‘That might mean from outside somewhere.’

  ‘Let’s look around the side then,’ Giles replied and led the way through a thicket of tall weeds and straggly bushes.

  ‘It’s funny how quiet it is everywhere,’ Matilda said thoughtfully, picking her way carefully as there was human excremen
t everywhere.

  ‘I find silence more nerve-racking than hearing shouting and fighting,’ Giles said in a low voice. ‘Somehow it shows the depth of despair they’ve sunk into.’

  As they skirted around a particularly large bush they suddenly found themselves in a kind of small clearing where the weeds were stamped down. Ahead of them was a narrow but well-trodden path, presumably starting from somewhere behind the house.

  ‘Look!’ Matilda said, noticing what looked like a burrow dug into the ground at the base of the house. ‘I bet that’s the way.’

  Gingerly she pulled at some branches lying over it. They came away easily to reveal a hole some two feet high by three feet wide in the lathe and plaster wall of the house.

  Matilda looked at her master in consternation, but he grinned in reassurance and fished into his sack for the lantern he’d brought with him.

  ‘I’ll lower this in and take a look,’ he said in a low voice. Matilda watched as he lit the candle inside and knelt down in front of the hole. ‘Here goes,’ he whispered, and lowering the candle into the hole he leaned right inside.

  He withdrew almost immediately. ‘They are there,’ he exclaimed with an expression of horror on his face. ‘Down in the cellar. Dozens of them.’

  ‘Let me see,’ she said, and as he got up she took his place, stretching out her arm so the light of the lantern lit up the dark cavern. But what she saw made her almost drop the lantern and her heart contracted with pity. Dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on the light from above, tiny white faces caught in the beam.

  The smell from within there was appalling but she couldn’t back away. ‘I’ve come to bring you some food,’ she called out. ‘Can I come in?’

  She didn’t wait for a reply or even to consult her master, but crawled on in holding the lantern firmly. There was some sort of box beneath the hole, then a crude and wobbly stairway made of crates down to their level, some fourteen or fifteen feet below, but her overwhelming desire to help these little mites wiped out her fear, and her disgust at the evil stench. As her feet touched the ground she found it was three or four inches deep in water.

  Holding the lantern higher, she moved nearer to the children. They were huddled together so tightly in just one small spot that she could only assume it was the only part of the floor not under water. ‘I have a man with me from the church,’ she said, speaking slowly and clearly so as not to frighten them. ‘He is a good, kind man who wants to help you, and he has a sack of food with him, will you let him come in too?’

  ‘I knows you.’ A voice came from behind the main body of children. ‘You’re that lady what was scared in Rag-Pickers.’

  ‘Sidney?’ she said in astonishment. The voice was familiar, but it was too dark to see if it was the same red-headed boy.

  ‘Yeah, it’s me,’ he said, and she saw a movement as if he’d been lying down and was now getting up. ‘She’s the one that give me six cents,’ he said to his companions.

  Suddenly there was a disturbing flurry of movement and for a moment she thought she was going to be attacked. ‘I haven’t any money on me,’ she said quickly. ‘But the man with me has bread and apples. I’m just going to call him in.’

  She turned her head to see Giles was already gingerly climbing in.

  ‘This is Reverend Milson,’ she said, very relieved to find the children weren’t about to set upon her, but just sitting up. ‘He is a minister at Trinity Church. My name is Matty and we’ve both come to help you.’

  She heard a splash as Giles reached the water. ‘I’m just going to light another candle so I can see you,’ he said, and Matilda noted his voice was shaking. ‘Then I want you all to tell me your names and how old you are. After that I’ll give you some food.’

  ‘I already know Sidney over there,’ Matilda said, thinking it might give Giles a little more confidence. ‘So perhaps he’ll tell us who everyone is. Will you do that, Sidney?’

  ‘I don’t know all the babbies’ names,’ he said.

  As Giles lit the second candle and Matilda saw the full horror of their condition and ages, her stomach heaved. They were only little tots, yet their drawn faces and bleak eyes made them look like little old wizened men. Not one she could see wore anything which resembled clothes, just rags draped about them. Their hair was matted and their limbs like sticks. One small boy who had stood up to look at her had only a piece of sacking round him and his rib-cage protruded like the dogs’ out in the street. At a quick count she thought there were eighteen children, and Sidney at six or seven was by far the eldest.

  He rolled out the names of the older ones, ‘Annie, John, Oz, Harry, Meg,’ then went on to use nicknames which suggested that perhaps these children had been orphaned or abandoned so young they didn’t know their real name. ‘Blackboy, Pig, Rat, Fish and Injun.’

  Matilda took the sack of food from Giles and began to hand out the bread. A sea of hands waved at her and a chorus of ‘Me’ broke out, but the moment they had a lump of bread in their hands silence fell as they devoured it.

  Matilda’s stomach lurched again, but this time it was purely from horror that anyone could eat in such conditions. She guessed that the water they were standing in was sewage – Giles had told her a couple of nights before that all the cellars around here were flooded with it when it rained. Hearing a squeak, she looked up to see a beam across the cellar roof was teeming with rats. When she cast her eyes nervously around there were dozens more, on ledges, in corners, their bright beady eyes watching her intently. Shudders ran down her spine and she just had to hope that the unexpected candlelight would keep them at bay.

  At the back of the cellar was a door. She wondered what lay behind it. Only after all the bread was gone and the apples handed out did she dare to ask Sidney.

  ‘The old ’uns don’t let us go in there,’ he said. ‘They don’t use this one ’cos it’s always wet.’

  ‘Do you always sleep in here?’ Giles asked him.

  ‘Not likely,’ he said, managing a surprisingly cheerful grin. ‘Mostly I goes down Battery Park. Only come here ’cos it’s raining. See, we built a platform for us.’ He bent down to pick up some rags under his feet and revealed planks laid on top of bricks. ‘We would have done it all, but the old ’uns would turf us out and take it.’

  Matilda’s feet were turning to ice now that the water had seeped right into her boots. She was wearing warm clothes, yet she felt very cold, she supposed it was only by huddling together that the children managed to sleep. It didn’t bear thinking what it would be like for them in winter.

  ‘Have any of you got mothers and fathers?’ Matilda asked. Most shook their heads, but the youngest just stared at her with large, sad eyes.

  To try to find out for certain, she began asking them individually, getting them to say their name, age and what had happened to their parents. Sidney said he was eight. Annie said she was six, and her mother had died a while ago, she didn’t think she had a father. Oz, whose full name was Oswald Pinchbeck, said he had lived with his aunt but she went away, and he wasn’t sure how old he was.

  Each child was so much like its neighbour – the dirt, rags and emaciated body – that Matilda thought she’d never be able to put a name to each face. They could tell her so little about themselves, ‘dunno’ was the most common word. She thought that this building was aptly named ‘Rat’s Castle’ for they were like rats, foraging for food and sleeping in packs, so ignorant of the way the rest of the world lived that they had no conception of the idea of families, care, and certainly not love.

  She let Giles tell them about his plan to take them to a ‘Home’. He spoke well, painting a picture of comfort and warmth and happy futures for all of them. Yet although it should have brought joy into their little faces, Matilda was distressed to see their eyes narrow with suspicion.

  ‘It isn’t a prison like The Tombs,’ Matilda said, bending nearer to the group. ‘It’s a real house with warm fires, beds and good food. You’ll have a school there, wear real clothes
and boots on your feet. You can learn to read books, have toys to play with. No one will ever hurt you again.’

  There were no questions, just blank stares, but some of the older ones looked to Sidney as if expecting him to be their spokesman.

  ‘Sidney,’ she said in a commanding voice. ‘You’ve met me before and I trusted you enough to lead me out of Five Points. Do you think you can trust me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘That’s good. I knew you were a smart boy, so I want you to take charge of all the others. In two days’ time we’re going to come back here at the same time and wait outside. I want you to bring all these children with you and we’ll take you to a doctor’s house close by, where you can all have a big dinner, a wash and some new clothes. Then later we’ll take you to that new Home we’ve told you about. Now, do you think you can make them all come with you?’

  ‘Dunno,’ he said doubtfully.

  ‘They’ll think you are a real hero when they see where you take them to,’ she said persuasively.

  ‘I dunno if I wants to live in a Home,’ he said. ‘Ain’t got much time for folks telling me what to do.’

  Matilda remembered how she had been reminded of her brother Luke when she first saw him. Clearly he had a similar mentality.

  ‘Well, you’re such a big boy that maybe you can manage without warm clothes and good food. So I’ll do a deal with you. You bring the little ones and have some dinner with them, but if you don’t want to stay, you can come on back here.’

  He didn’t reply, just looked at her with hard eyes.