The Song of the Siren

“I see you brought me here to steal my cloak. Well, you have it. Now let me go.”

Mrs. Brown turned to the girls and they all laughed. “She’s pretty, though, ain’t she?” said Mrs. Brown. “Such a trusting little piece. She took quite a fancy to Good Mrs. Brown, I can tell you. Was ready to follow her wherever she led.”

I turned towards the door. Mrs. Brown’s hand was on my arm.

“That’s not all, ducky.”

“No,” I cried. “You want my purse as well.”

“You did keep it nice and safe for us. It would be a pity not to have it after that, wouldn’t it?”

They kept laughing in a shrill way which frightened me.

I took out my purse and threw it on the floor.

“Good. You see she’s not one for trouble either.”

“Well, you have my cloak and my purse. Now let me go.”

Mrs. Brown was feeling the stuff of my gown.

“The very best cloth,” she said, “only worn by the gentry. Come on, dearie. Off with it.”

“I cannot take off my dress.”

“Her servants has always done it for her,” mocked one of the girls.

“We’ll be her servants today,” said Mrs. Brown. “I always believe in treating my friends in the way they’re used to.”

It was becoming more and more of a nightmare. They were pulling my dress over my shoulders.

“What shall I do?” I cried. “You are taking all my clothes. I shall be ... naked.”

“See, a nice modest little girl. Now listen, dearie, we wouldn’t let you go out into the streets starkers, would we, girls? Now that would cause a bit of a barney, wouldn’t it?”

They all laughed hideously.

I felt numb with terror. How I longed to call back time. How I wished I was sitting at my window and that I had had the good sense to do what I had been told was the wise thing to do-never go out alone.

I was sure this was some sort of nightmare. It couldn’t be true. Things like this did not happen.

They had stripped me down to my shift. How I hated their dirty fingers feeling the cloth of my clothes, gloating, as they took them from me, over the price they would fetch.

I stood there shivering with the awful realisation that if I wanted to escape I could not run out into the street with no clothes on.

Nevertheless I felt I could not endure to stay any longer in this terrible room with the piles of clothes lying on the floor. I saw that it was the profession of women like Mrs. Brown to lure unsuspecting people-children, it seemed mostly-into her den and there rob them of their clothes.

“Well, dearie,” said Mrs. Brown, “you was a nice little pick up. But listen here.

I don’t want no trouble. You understand. Trouble and Mrs. Brown is two that don’t go together.”

“You’re a thief,” I said. “You will get caught one day and you’ll go to Tyburn for what you do.”

“Not such a babe as we thought, eh?” She winked at the girls, who chortled with amusement.

“We’re careful. We’re good. Least I am. I wan’t called Good Mrs. Brown for nothing.

Give me that cloak, ducks,” she said to one of the girls. The girl handed her a cloak which was rugged and torn.

“There, wrap that round yourself,” she said.

I looked at it distastefully.

“Oh, it’s not what you’re used to, dearie. I know that. But it’s better than going naked. It’s more decent, see.”

I wrapped the cloak round me and for a moment my disgust was greater than my terror.

“Now listen, dearie. We’re going out of here. I’ll take you back on your road, see.

I don’t want no trouble. I don’t want nothing traced to me. Good Mrs. Brown keeps out of trouble. All she wants is the nice clothes rich little ladies and gentlemen wear. It don’t mean much to them because they have others. But it means the difference between eating and starvation to Good Mrs. Brown. So I shall take you out with me. And if you was to shout I’d got your clothes nobody here would listen to you. Then I’ll leave you to find your home on your own. Yes, when it’s safe I’ll leave you. Understand?”

I nodded. My one desire was to get out of this place with as little trouble as possible.

She gripped my arm. We went up the stairs. The relief to feel the fresh air again was great.

All the time she was taking me through the narrow streets she was talking to me.

No one took any notice of us. She had had my shoes too, so I was barefooted and I could not walk easily on the cobbles.

She laughed at me because I stumbled.

“They are such pretty shoes,” she murmured. Then she went on: “Listen to me, ducky.

You’ve had a lucky escape. You lost your clothes. You could have lost more than that, dearie. Mrs. Brown has taught you a lesson. What a day for a rich little girl to go wandering out in her velvets and silks! Today, dearie, there’s more rogues and vagabonds in this ‘ere city than at any time .. . and there are enough of us, Gawd knows, without this new lot. They comes in from all over the place, coronation days, royal weddings, you know ... such like. They’re the times to make a picking. Well, you’ve been plucked, little pigeon, and thank your stars it was by Good Mrs. Brown.