Daisy Renton’s Diary

March 1911

I have been running low on money for the past few weeks, it could be said that I didn’t have a penny to my name this fateful day of March. I was so hungry and desperate that I had to reduce myself to becoming one of the many women who spent their night time hours at the Palace Variety Theatre. As a young, quite pretty woman alone in that place, I knew I would be live bait but I had no other alternative.

I was sitting in the corner of the bar at the Palace Variety Theatre, but I didn’t go unnoticed. I was a fresh piece of meat, I could tell by the glint in the men’s eyes and the way they licked their lips as they salivated greedily. Even to think about it now disgusts me to my very core. Still, I sat there with my head held high and my sweetest smile plastered on my face.

I didn’t take long in regretting my decision to go there but, luckily, for the first couple of hours, no one had enough “liquid courage” to come up to talk to me. Sadly, as usual, my luck quickly ran out. Just when I was about to leave the bar to head to the squalid apartment I was bound to be kicked out of in a few days time, a large man came towards me. I hardly remember what he said to me as I was so panic stricken.

He sat on the stool next to me and slowly inched his chair closer to mine, leaving me trapped in the damn corner I had chosen to sit in…He put a hand on my thigh…he started panting quite heavily and moisture dripped from his brow…he started talking about what a pretty girl I was…how he was an important man in our small town…and how I should do what he asked me to…Terrified I started to look around, to see if there was anyone about who would come to my aid, but at this point everyone had decided to turn away and pay attention to the hard-eyed dough-faced women next to them. Well, everyone but a handsome man in his thirties. Something about this man had given me hope. I truly believed that he was going to help me. And, he did.

He managed the whole situation with tact and finesse. He told the man I was next to – who I believe was called Mr Meggarty – that the manager had a message for him. From the moment he started to talk to Mr Meggarty he had not looked twice at me. He just stood there with cool composure as if he was an actor on stage executing his lines that I almost felt compelled to believe his web of lies.

When Mr Meggarty had staggered out of the room, the man looked at me with sympathetic eyes and introduced himself. “I’m Gerald Croft, son of Sir Croft owner of crofts Limited” he said in a steady voice. With every word he spoke the faint scent of port mingled with that of his cologne. I was slightly mesmerised at the sight of my knight in shining armour. Noticing how I seemed to have no intention of leaving my chair in that instant, in a firm voice he said that he should accompany me out if I didn’t want to face any more suitors. I gave a slight nod and before I knew it we were standing in front of the County Hotel.

At first we sat in comfortable silence, that is , until he passed me the first drink. At that instant it seemed that I let out the breath which I felt I had been holding since the events at the Palace bar. I was far away from the wretched man and I felt perfectly safe in front of this complete stranger. I had only opened my mouth to thank him for his generosity and for saving me from a great ordeal and I was suddenly telling him all about my past. He had started to ask the question, of course, but I felt at ease so I ended up telling him about my past misfortunes, something I had never discussed with anyone else before. I had to bite my tongue a couple of times as I nearly let it slip that my real name was Eva Smith not Daisy Renton as I had told him. I could have taken a leap of faith. I could have told the complete truth but I was afraid. I was scared that my saviour would look down on me if he knew my real name. We don’t live in a large town after all and a businessman such as himself would have probably heard something about the ring leaders of the strike in the second largest factory in town, Birling and Company.

The rest of the night went quite smoothly. It seemed like we were life long friends chatting away. Gerald didn’t disclose much information about himself but I was not deterred because he looked like he was genuinely interested in what I had to say and as strange as it sounds he seemed to care for me. In my ramblings I let it slip that I was hungry and not a moment had passed before he was asking for food to be brought for me.

After what seemed like hours of talking he walked me home. All night long he kept a safe distance between us and was a true gentleman, and he was no different when we arrived at my doorstep, though I think he looked at my accommodation with a bit if disdain and disgust but I honestly didn’t car. With a kiss on my cheek and a promise to meet me again, he left me at the entrance to my home with the brightest smile I have had in years. Life seemed to be looking up, finally.

Jackeline Beddoe (1º Bachillerato)