THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 3... Part 10.

A continuation of my book.

It was two nights later, when the women had settled themselves down to sleep, the cell door opened and a Warder stood there, peering into the cell with his eyes scouring the women. He was small and deformed with the hump on his back giving him a lop-sided appearance. His face was narrow and cracked by pockmarks.
“Bertha?” he shouted in a high voice. “Bertha? Are you in there?”
Beth stirred then jerked awake. She shook Bertha awake from her snoring.
“Who is it? What…?” gasped Bertha.
“I think the Warder at the door is wanting you.” said Beth.
Bertha shook her head to clear the drama of dreams and stared out through the gloom, to make out the small figure in the doorway.
“Walter? Is that you?” she cried, rising to her feet and moved hurriedly forward to crush Walter in her arms, swamping his small frame so that he frantically tried to free himself from her embrace.
“I knew you’d come as your wants is risen, Walter!” she cried.
“That’s me own thinking, Bertha.” said Walter as he took her hand, leading her out before slamming the door shut.

Beth settled down again although she felt suddenly lonely with Bertha going. She considered it simply part of her life in meeting people and becoming close and then to have them suddenly leave her alone.
But two hours later the cell door opened to admit Bertha who laughed as she threw herself down beside Beth.
“I had a mind to think I would not be seeing the likes of you again.” said Beth, hugging Bertha wildly.
“Of course I have to come back. Does you think I would be allowed out because Walter has the fancy of me? But I can tell you this much, dearie.” Bertha settled herself to whisper in Beth’s ear. “Walter is in fixing it for me to be moved into better digs. I told him I was in grooming trade with you, teaching you as to please his friends at some time as when you’re willing. That way you can be settling in with me to better quarters. What does you say to that?”
“But I’m not in a mind to please any Warder here!” exclaimed Beth quickly.
Bertha chuckled deep in her throat.
“But that’s for them as not to know and you not in the telling. It can be that you won’t be at any time for them afore you gets to going out, if you sees me meaning.”

 

It seemed to Beth that she had hardly slept when the door opened and Walter stood there.
“You two there! You’ll be accompanying me to further quarters.” said Walter in his high-pitched voice.
Bertha rose and hauled Beth to her feet.  Walter led them down a passage that had steel doors on either side.
“Hear them moans and screams coming out?” said Bertha as they passed. “Them’s the lunatics and waiting for the move to the asylum.” said Bertha when Beth had stopped on hearing the screams and moans which came from beyond the doors.
“Let’s not get to dawdling.” ordered Walter.
They hurried on.
“Here’s your quarters and in priority.” said Walter as he threw the door open.

The room was large with thin straw mattresses on the floor, six in all. Four of the mattresses were already taken up by four women who lounged and lay and who nodded and smiled at Bertha while they stared at Beth in new interest.
“This here is my friend. Her name is Beth and she is new to the learning of the art of a man’s fancy.” explained Bertha to the women.
“And that had better be soon.” said Walter.
“It would be sooner should you arrange a more private convenience, Walter.” replied Bertha.
“Now Bertha. I’ve put you and your friend in as nice a settlement as is available. You settle in to share with these fine ladies as is come into the same comfort as yourselves.” he finished.
“Come to me a-calling when the time suits and your fancy is high.” said Bertha to Walter, who laughed aloud before shutting the door.
“There’s no key to the lock!” exclaimed Beth, going to the door and opening it to peer down the passage.
“A lock aint in need here, Beth.” explained Bertha as she settled herself on one of the vacant mattresses.
“We is all to a Warder’s fancy here, aint that so ladies?” said Bertha to the women on the other mattresses and was rewarded by nods of agreement.
“Take yourself in rest, Beth. Sit yourself down and wait till we have a better feasting for breakfast.”
“Do we still have to take to sewing the tattie bags?”
“That we don’t, Beth. This room is for more gentle tasks so it settles the hands to a softer target. We has the basket-weaving here and all finer to the hands. You’ll see when it all comes clear to the mind.”
Beth closed her eyes and smiled. This was certainly better than the sweat and dirt of the cell they had earlier vacated. Silently, she thanked Bertha in her heart for taking her under her wing. She slept as Bertha engaged the other women as to their business and what liberties might be taken.

 

The food was fed to them from large bowls placed on the floor into which the women dipped fingers and chunks of hard bread, not being allowed knives, forks or spoons. Beth tucked into the meat and potatoes with a hunger that served its purpose, eating as the other women did and then sharing the bowls, tipping them up and taking it in turns to drink the watery gravy. After the meal the bowls were taken by two women with trusty armbands, who returned with armfuls of raffia and bases for basket weaving.
The women sat cross-legged as they worked, talking of all manner of things and the reasons for their stay. It seemed to Beth that the women had visited more than once, having accumulated debts and finding it easier to exist in the prison than meeting hard times on the outside. Each of the women sold themselves to Warders for the favours of better conditions.