Shadows of the Workhouse

’em. I’ll see to that, you’ll see. Muffins every day, if you wants ’em. An’ candy, an chocolate, an’ cakes an’ all.”
    “And can I have jam and honey and cream?”
    “Wha’ever you wants, my li’l sister, you can ’ave. You’ll see.”
    “And pretty dresses?”
    “Loads of ’em.”
    “And a carriage with four horses?”
    “Of course. Six ’orses, and a coachman, an’ all.”
    Peggy sighed with happiness. But something inside her stirred, and she clung to him. “But you won’t go away? You won’t let them take me away from you again, will you?” Her eyes were wide with terror. His eyes were serious and his voice firm. “No one can take you away from me, not no one, never. I’ve promised, haven’t I? We’ll be together always.”
    Satiated with muffins and warmth and the emotion of the day, her eyes began to close. Frank watched her closely, thinking he had never seen such a pretty face. She was so much prettier than the coster girls most of his mates had. They were rough-looking girls with loud voices and dirty hair. He leaned forward and touched her hair. It was like silk, and so fine he had to blow it, just to watch it move. She felt his breath on her face, and opened her eyes.
    “Come on, little girl, it’s time for you to go to bed.”
    Frank used the words he had used when he was six and she was two. A distant memory stirred and she giggled, and leaned back against the wall, kicking her heels against the floor.
    “Can’t make me.”
    He leaned towards her and took off her boots and socks, saying as he did so, “This little piggy goes to market. This little piggy stays at home.”
    She caught the rhyme and finished, “And this little piggy goes wee, wee, wee, all the way home. Home, Frank, not the workhouse but home, with you.”
    He undressed the sleepy young girl just as he had done nearly ten years before. He put her into the bed and she fell asleep straight away, snuggled into the warm blanket that he pulled around her.
    He threw another log on the fire. He did not feel sleepy. He felt wide awake, teeming with emotions that tumbled into his conscious and subconscious mind. He had done it! He’d got her out. Out for good an’ all. Hadn’t that stinking workhouse master sat up when he’d showed him the Post Office book, and told him there were respectable lodgings to take her to? Frank looked proudly round the little room. This was real swell, this was.
    He stroked the hair of the sleeping child, and a wave of tenderness swept over him. This was his sister. Was she really like their mother? He couldn’t say. Already the shadow of his mother was fading as the reality of Peggy grew more distinct. How soft and pretty girls were. He stroked the smooth white skin of her arm and compared it with his own, all covered with black hairs. He took up her hand, then noticed with fury that it was all red and rough, her nails short and broken, with little cracks at the fingertips. The bastards. They’d got her scrubbing and doing heavy washing already! They’d better not come his way again, or he’d murder them! No – that was too good for them. He’d get the Master and the lousy officers scrubbing the floors themselves. They could scrub for years. That’d learn ’em! He swore angrily to himself, and vowed that Peggy would never have to work so hard again.
    He got up and turned the log with his boot. Sparks shot up the chimney and the embers glowed red, making the meagre little attic look cosy. He looked around, and thought of the squalid men’s doss-house on the waterfront where he had lodged for two years. Disgusting! Men were always coughin’ an’ spittin’. Men were always fartin’ and belchin’ an’ swearin’. Always fightin’ over nuffink, they were. It wasn’t just Peggy who’d been rescued. Rescuing her had rescued him from that lousy, flea-ridden dump, and he was never going back. Never.
    He sat down again beside her and listened to her quiet breathing. Men snored! Leastwise, all the men he’d ever known had snored like elephants. Enough to keep a person awake all night. Peggy let out a tiny puff as she moved in her sleep, and he held his breath. Was that how girls snored? The workhouse dormitory with seventy boys and an officer came to his mind, and he shut the thought out quickly. He didn’t ever again want to think of it. It was too awful. They were both out now and they’d stay out. They belonged together. His jaw was set with determination as he