Cathy Sharp - The Barefoot Child

‘My cousin’s wife wrote to tell me she is dying and her children will be destitute. I must go at once to see if I can be of help to them.’ Arthur was annoyed, more with himself than his servant. He could only hope that when he reached the address the children were still there for otherwise it might be difficult to find them.

‘They’re all three under fifteen, and the youngest is eight,’ Jessie Foster told the magistrate’s clerk. ‘Living below the breadline they are, sir – and it saddens me ’eart to see it. The next thing we know the eldest girl will be walkin’ the streets, they’re that desperate.’

‘You say the family ’as no work?’ the clerk asked, busily writing it all down. ‘If that’s so, they need to be admitted to the workhouse – the whole family.’

‘Yes, sir, that’s why I thought it my duty to come and tell you.’

‘You did right, madam,’ the man said. ‘I shall report this to my superiors and something will be done about it – they’re all children and unless there is a relative to care for them, they should all be in the care of the workhouse guardians.’

Jessie Foster left the office feeling very pleased with her morning’s work. From what she knew of the law, the children would be taken in whether they liked it or not and their protests about having jobs would not be believed. In time they might prove that they had been supporting themselves, but by then Jessie would have taken over their room – and helped herself to the stuff she’d seen. She fancied the corner cupboard, which looked an expensive piece and she’d have that sold before the children could do anything about it …

‘From what you tell me, sir, Lucy is doing a wonderful job of taking care of her sister and keeping her family together,’ Hetty said when the parson had finished speaking. ‘The workhouse is meant to provide for those who are starving and cannot help themselves – as is the refuge I help to run.’

‘Yes, ma’am, that is my opinion on the matter,’ the Reverend Mr Joseph said and nodded his approval, for she was a sensible woman. ‘However, I think that someone is out to make trouble for the family and so, knowing of your work here, I thought it my duty to apprise you of what was happening.’

‘Now that you have told me about them, I shall certainly visit the family at home this evening. It may be that I can be of help to them. I do have a room free – if they could manage with that.’

‘Then I may leave the matter in your capable hands.’ The reverend nodded his approval. ‘I had heard that you were doing good work here, Mistress Worsley, and I am happy to have made your acquaintance.’

‘As I am yours, sir,’ Hetty said warmly. ‘I wonder, if I asked you, might you arrange Bible classes for some of my guests? I have noticed that some of the children need help with their reading and learning, and I believe that the right kind of parson might enrich their lives with Bible readings.’

‘It would give me great pleasure to come once a week – say on a Monday afternoon, if that would suit – between four and six?’

‘Yes, perfect,’ Hetty agreed. ‘I want the classes to be a treat for those that attend, sir. They are not being forced, but I think they might learn so much from a man like you.’

‘Were you perhaps the daughter of a parson, Miss Hetty?’

‘I was fortunate to have many privileges when I was young,’ Hetty told him. ‘I am trying to improve the lives of the children, sir – if you could show them the lovely artwork of Christ’s followers for instance …’

‘Yes, indeed. I have a precious book of hours in which the illustrations are beyond anything,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘I shall bring it with me to show you – and I have others the children may handle.’

The Reverend Mr Joseph was smiling happily as he left the refuge that afternoon. Miss Hester Worsley was a good woman and she had a lovely nature, to say nothing of her face and figure. He was conscious of a feeling of warmth. He had done a good turn and in turn found a new friend …

It was an hour later that a frantic knocking at the reverend’s door took him from his enjoyment of muffins and tea before the fire. His housekeeper answered the door and a few moments later Lucy Soames came rushing into his neat little parlour.

‘Is something the matter, my dear?’ he asked.

‘Kitty didn’t come home this evenin’,’ Lucy said. ‘I did some shoppin’ in the market before I went home or I should’ve discovered it earlier. Josh got home ten minutes after me and he hadn’t seen her – she wasn’t in the street playing and Sara May, one of the other tenants, said she was sure Kitty didn’t come home!’ Lucy drew a sobbing breath. ‘Sara fetched her daughter Jenny and Jenny says a man took her after she left school. She cried and screamed but no one tried to stop him – and he said he was from the magistrate’s court.’

‘Oh dear, I was afraid of this,’ the reverend said. ‘Mrs Foster came here and told me that your brother is younger than you – and that makes you all wards of the court, you see. But Miss Worsley from the women’s refuge said that if you were managing well, she might be able to help you – and she was coming to see you this evening …’ he finished lamely.

‘Josh is out searching for Kitty and I came here,’ Lucy said and tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘What did Mrs Foster do, sir?’

‘I fear that she must have gone to the magistrates and told them you were not fit to have the care of your sister – and worse.’

‘She is wicked!’ Lucy burst out. ‘She covets our room and our things. I’ve seen her lookin’ at Pa’s cupboard!’

‘Go home to your brother, Miss Lucy,’ the reverend advised gently. ‘I shall make inquiries in the morning and will do what I can to sort out this mess for you.’

‘But what about Kitty? Supposing she is hurt or cryin’?’

‘I dare say she is frightened and may well be crying,’ he said and shook his head sorrowfully. ‘I fear there is nothing to be done this evening – but in the morning I shall do what I can.’

Lucy nodded, though he saw mutiny in her eyes as she turned and ran from his house. He knew she was upset but he could hardly go to the magistrate’s house and demand to know what had happened to Kitty Soames at this hour. The magistrate was charged with the care of vagrant children and the girl would not be physically harmed, though it must have been a great shock for her when she was taken. Yet what good would it do to antagonise a man he wanted on his side if he was to arrange for the girl’s release? No, no, the morning would be soon enough.

‘He says it was Mrs Foster who went to the magistrates and said we weren’t fit to have the care of Kitty,’ Lucy said indignantly. ‘She is a nasty woman, Josh – and one day I’ll give her such a shock.’

Josh grinned. ‘Goin’ to burn her pie for her are yer? She’ll have yer guts fer garters, our Lucy.’

‘I don’t know how you can laugh when they’ve taken Kitty off to the courthouse and they’ll put her in the spike!’ Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Josh. I can’t bear it – poor little Kitty; she’ll be so miserable and frightened …’

‘Yes, she will, and I’m as angry as you.’ Josh’s mouth twisted into a snarl. ‘I’ll do more than burn that old bitch’s pie, Lucy. I’ll make her sorry she was born!’

‘You mustn’t do anythin’ silly or they’ll have you up before the magistrates and then you’ll lose your job and they’ll say you’re a vagrant and put you in the spike too.’

‘If they do, I’ll run away,’ Josh said. ‘They’re rotten, the lot of ’em – and I ain’t forgot ole Snodgrass cheated me, either. I’ll get even on all of ’em afore I’ve done.’