Passage of a Desolate Woman (#2, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel)

by Dorothy Green

  Do right and tell me of things that are happening in our village. Your dearest friend, Jennifer.

  She folded the letter, and knew that she would not be able to send it by post until the following Saturday, when they were allowed to leave work a bit early, and she could stop at the post to send it.

  Lying in bed, she popped one piece of butterscotch in her mouth, savoring the flavour. Then she wrapped the other, and slipped it into her coat once more.

  Her eyes closed and allowed the flavors to dance on her tongue, rich and buttery. Visions of Jacob dance through her mind. What would he be doing at this moment? Would he be in his bed in the cottage, thinking of her?

  Perhaps he was feeding Champion, or getting ready for one of his late-night runs, dressed all in black being dangerous and mysterious. How she wished she was in his bed waiting for him; this time she would not argue with his work. She could never be a criminal, but now she had no notion about sharing a home with one. It would be more comfortable then the factory and lodge house, even if it was honest work. She had to remind herself that she had too much pride to live the criminal life. It was not for her.

  The next day, while she sewed her first shirt of the week, she needed more cloth. But in truth she had designed it this way, for she wanted to see Kevin one more time.

  In the back of the factory, the children worked. For children they were very quiet, not joyful and loud as children normally were. They dragged.

  Kevin worked at his station, dunking cloth into the black dye. Jennifer moved very close to him and looked around for the floor manager, nowhere to be seen. She quickly kneeled down next to Kevin.

  “Kevin, remember me?”

  He nodded his head yes. “ Jennifer.”

  “Yes, that is very good. I have something for you.”

  Quickly she unwrapped the paper and showed him the piece of butterscotch. His eyes lit up with such joy.

  “It is called butterscotch. Would you like to eat it now?”

  He nodded his head very excitedly yes. He looked at his hands in the wet black dye.

  “It is all right. Open your mouth.”

  He opened his mouth and she placed it on his tongue. He smiled such a smile that it made her heart leap with happiness. Then she quickly stood up and continued on her business, not wanting to get caught. She felt very good, having brought some sense of joy to that young orphan. She had set her mind. I will find out which orphanage, and adopt him and take him home with me when I leave in March. Then he will have a normal childhood, a brother for Adam to play with.

  This gave her a sense of satisfaction indeed. For she could almost handle the daily torment of having to see him work, just knowing that he just needed to stick it out a few more months with her, and then they would both return to the bright sunshine of the countryside with the clean air and all the frogs that he could catch with Adam. Yes, it was another mouth to feed, but she would have to make do. This meant she just needed to return with more money than she previously thought.

  In this manner, the days passed and she came to consider Kevin her own child, because in her mind she had already adopted him and took him home with her. Everyday in the factory, she checked on him, just to say hello. Once a week she brought him a piece of butterscotch, but not more than that. She could not get caught, and her savings did not allow it.

  * * *

  November

  Another month passed, and the London weather grew extremely cold. The factory was full of coughing and sneezing everyday. People were growing very ill, and it only made the conditions worse.

  Jennifer traded the butterscotch treat for a ginger or licorice treat, knowing that these two had medicinal properties. It was knowledge that came with living in the country. She did not want Kevin to grow ill, and the ginger or licorice treat would help.

  “Thank you, Jennifer. You make me happy.” Kevin said to her one Monday afternoon as she unwrapped the piece of ginger candy.

  Her eyes watered, but she fought the tears. How was it that one piece of candy could make this child's life happy? It should not be so.

  “And you make me happy, Kevin. Now quickly, we cannot get in trouble.”

  He opened his mouth and she slipped the piece of ginger in and walked away. She wanted to spend more time with him, and found out that she could not take him for an outing from the orphanage. They did not allow it.

  It made sense, because then they would just have to trust any strangers taking children from the orphanage, and she would rather that those that had dark sensibilities would not be allowed to do such a thing.

  Therefore she made do with having the little bit of access that she had four with him at the factory. She was counting down the months when she could try to properly adopt him.

  “What have you done?” Mr. Clark stood in front of Jennifer's workstation.

  She looked up at him in fear. Had she been caught? Would he take it out on Kevin?

  “I am sorry sir, I do not know your meaning.”

  “Look at this!” he held up a white shirt that she had been working on. There were specks of black dye on it, and she realised that they had probably splashed on her dress, and then she held the shirt against her when she returned to the station.

  “I am sorry. I must have walked too closely to the dye vats in the back when fetching cloth. It is my mistake sir.”

  “Yes, it is! This will come out of your wages Miss Bronson! Now, start over!”

  “Yes sir. Apologies sir!”

  He stomped away from her. She watched him in disgust, for she had learned that Mr. Clark was very rich indeed. He had a grand home in St James Woods,, a very expensive place of London on the west side. He made his money off the backs of children, and any rich man that would do so was a villain in her eyes.

  Jennifer counted the days that she would receive her last payment, and then she could tell this man exactly what she thought of him. How sweet it will be. Until then, all she could do was do her work obediently, not cause trouble, and not stick out from the crowd for any reason.

  But there was a place for her to take her anger, the growing Labour Party. In this group, she found relief.

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  * * *

  December

  “We have doubled our numbers!” Billy Barnes shouted at the crowd in the Labour party meeting. Jennifer was among them and applauded;this was where her anger for the treatment of children in factories found solace with others.

  “This is just the beginning. We must take it slow and steady, never giving up. You might think that you are not seeing the change quick enough, but change comes with time, and persistence. Never give up!” he shouted.

  The crowd repeated the phrase. “Never give up!”

  “He just gets better and better,” Rebecca said to Jennifer. For the two of them had become regular participants in the meeting. It was true that no real actions have been taken, but it was somewhat of a support to gather in the way that they had been. They gave Jennifer a place to go, to know that she was not alone and feeling guilty about the work that she did.

  “Miss Bronson, a pleasure to see you as always,” Billy Barnes came to her and Rebecca.

  “And you, Mr. Barnes,” She responded.

  “I am told that you can read and write, is that true?”

  “Yes, that is true.”

  “Then I may have need for your services,;the Labour Party has need for your services.”

  “Oh, and what might that be?”

  “You work in a factory. Rebecca tells me it is hard. I want you to write one page, on your experiences. The horrors that you see there.”

  “And what will be done with them?”

  “They will be published.”

  “Published? But I will get in trouble. I hate my work, but I cannot lose it. I support a mother and brother back home.”

  Billy laughed. “Miss Bronson, these things are not published with your name. They are published anonymously
. Otherwise, no one would ever talk.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Will you think about it?” I will need it by the next meeting, next Sunday.”

  Jennifer nodded her head.

  Billy tilted his bowler hat at them, and moved on, speaking to another group of gentlemen standing nearby.

  Rebecca elbowed her. “What is there to think about? When Billy Barnes needs you, you say yes. This is very important. I do not think he has asked a woman for such a thing before. He must think very highly of you indeed.”

  “Is that so? He has never asked a woman?”

  “Not to my knowledge entirely.”

  Jennifer felt a flood of pride. She grabbed Rebecca's arm and walked over to Billy.

  “Mr. Barnes. I shall have the page for you by next Sunday.”

  “Very well. It is much appreciated. Thank you Miss Branson.”

  “Call me Jennifer.”

  He nodded a thank you, and then proceeded to greet another group. Rebecca smiled at her.

  “Did you see how he smiled at you? There is a great future for Mr. Billy Barnes. He may even make his way to politician one day. He has many followers, a man of the people.”

  “Yes, you may be right.”

  Jennifer felt a sense of pride run through her. She felt very happy that she of all people had been asked to represent the Labour Party with her own experiences of the factory life. Her words would reach hundreds of people, perhaps thousands all over London. Now she felt like she was helping, not just herself, but the children like Kevin.

  Later that evening, she laid on her bed writing her one page for Billy. She had one roommate, named Beverly, who also worked but in a neighboring factory. The two were roommates and nothing more, no friendship had developed between them, and Jennifer was quite fine with that. For she felt that becoming friends with a roommate could cause problems, because then you brought the problems of friendship into the home. She and Beverly were as two passing ships, being cordial, but nothing more. She preferred it this way.

  By bedtime, she had written two versions of her story, ready to give Billy both and allow him to use whichever one pleased him.

  On the way to the factory the next day, something caught her eye in the window of the general shop. There were two wooden trucks.

  Oh how Adam would love that, and Kevin. They could play together outside in the dirt. How Adam is going to be delighted when I bring Kevin home, a real brother and playmate. He won't have to play alone any longer. I shall get them both one for Christmas.

  She continued toward the factory, and felt lighter than usual. Jennifer had done her part for the Labour Party, and now she was planning on the future, taking Kevin home and offering him a life.

  Perhaps, things would not be so bad in the next three months. Christmas was right around the corner in less than a week, then it would be the new year, and then before she knew it, spring. She would have saved up plenty of money, that they could live off of for at least a year, while she figured out how to continue to support them at home.

  Perhaps now that she had ventured so far, she could venture out to all neighboring villages to find work. For the distance no longer scared her after the experience she had. With the savings, she could buy a horse and cart, and possibly sell clothing that she made in Buntingford, alongside Katrina and her father. The possibilities seemed endless in her positive light.

  “Good day to you, Helen.”

  Helen did not return the greeting. Instead she looked at Jennifer with wide eyes.

  “Jennifer, I am very sorry.””

  “You are? What did you do, steal one of my candles? Do not worry, I brought plenty.” Jennifer replied.

  She sat down, happily ready to get to work. If she could finish two shirts that day, then there would be more money to be had to buy those trucks for Adam and Kevin.

  “Oh dear, you have not heard.”

  Jennifer turned to Helen, seeing the very serious look on her face.

  “Heard what? Is it Rebecca? What has happened, Helen?”

  “No. Rebecca is fine, as far as I know. It is Kevin.”

  Jennifer's heart fell to her stomach. This could not be good, and she did not want to ask what she meant by it. For in this moment, nothing bad had happened to Kevin yet. In this moment she was ignorant to any information, and that meant that in her reality it had not happened. She stayed silent. Helen answered her anyway.

  “After the work day on Saturday, it is said that he collapsed at the orphanage. The doctor said it was due to exhaustion.”

  “What? Is he all right?”

  “He passed, Jennifer. Last night.”

  “No!” Jennifer jumped up from her seat and ran to the back.

  “Kevin! Kevin!” the vat station he worked at was empty. “No! No! Kevin!” she shouted.

  All stopped working and turned to look at her. The children were in shock and a few of the women had come to her aid. But most were too scared to leave their stations.

  “Jennifer, you must not mourn here,” Helen whispered to her in a panic, searching the room for Mr. Clark

  “No!” Jennifer cried as tears flowed from her face and she sank to her knees beside the tin vat. Her body could no longer support her. Her cry echoed through the vast warehouse.

  “What the hell is all of this?” Mr. Clark stomped in with a look of shock upon his face. For he had never seen everyone stop work before. The audacity.

  “The young lad was a friend to Jennifer,” Helen said meekly.

  “Oh, right, the dead boy. Well, it happens. It’s done and gone. I will not lose hours of work to it. Back to work, all of you!”

  The rage entered Jennifer’s heart, turning it black. Never had she felt such rage in her life. It consumed her and she only saw red in front of her.

  She stood quickly. Whack. She slapped Mr. Clark across the cheek. The entire factory gasped collectively.

  “You did this! You animal! You work children to death! There is a special place in hell for you! You will be tortured for all eternity as these children are tortured by you!” She shouted. Her entire body trembled.

  Mr. Clark’s face turned red with anger, indeed he seemed to be trembling with it.

  Whack! he back handed her across the cheek, knocking her to the ground. “You’re fired! Get out!” he roared.

  Jennifer got on her hands and knees, getting her balance back. A sound rang in her ears, as though she could faint from the blow. Finally, she made it to her feet. She stood as tall as she could and faced her attacker.

  “You’re a murderer, Mr. Clark. I hope you think of that at every meal that is put in front of you. The word murderer will whisper in your ear right before you eat that meal, because that is what paid for that meal. The murder of children.”

  “Get out!” he roared.

  But Jennifer could see he was shaken by her words and that was all that she needed. On her heels she turned to walk back to the front of the factory. In her station she took out her candles that she had purchased and then walked out with her head held high.

  However, as soon as she entered her room. Grief over took her and she did not leave her room for two days straight. Kevin. Oh, little innocent Kevin.

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  * * *

  “Jennifer, you must eat something.” Rebecca said, sitting on Jennifer's bed, rubbing her back.

  “I just wish to be left alone.”

  “That I can understand. You talked of that boy Kevin very often. I am very sorry, but it has been two days, and you have not eaten a thing.”

  “I have no appetite.”

  Rebecca sighed. “ I understand. I have come to tell you news. The boy is being buried today at noon, a pauper's grave. Billy is downstairs, he insisted on escorting you to the funeral, that is if you intend to go. That is up to you quite frankly.”

  To this Jennifer sat up. “A funeral? You're sure?”

  “Yes, I made it my point to find out the info
rmation from the orphanage. It is today at noon, Whitechapel Cemetery.”

  “Then, yes. I will go.”

  “Then we shall walk with you. Would you like me to help you get dressed?”

  “No. That is not necessary. I will be down straight away. Perhaps wait with Billy?”

  “Yes. I will do that.”

  “All right, dear.”

  Rebecca gave her a hug, and then walked out of the room, leaving Jennifer to get dressed. She poured water in the basin,and washed her face. Her eyes felt puffy and red, but she did not care, as it was to be expected. This she would get out of the room for, she had not expected to be able to say goodbye to Kevin, and now was her chance.

  Jennifer brushed her long red hair and braided it over her shoulder, then she pulled on a dark blue dress, for she did not have a black one. Stockings and boots completed her outfit, and then she put on her coat and bonnet. She reached into her pocket, the delicate paper wrapped around ginger candy, brought tears to her eyes again. It was the piece she had brought on the Monday, to give to Kevin as was her usual routine.

  She walked down the stairs. The lodging was mostly empty since most were at work. She had not thought about what she was going to do now that she was fired, perhaps she would just return back home early. She wanted to see her family very badly but she had only been gone 4 months. And the money would be gone 2 months after she returned home if it lasted that long. No, she would have to find other work, but for now it was all about saying goodbye to Kevin.

  “Jennifer, I am very sorry for your loss,” Billy gave her a big hug.

  “Thank you, Billy.”

  That was all that she could say, as she was not one for conversation at the moment. In truth she felt like a broken woman, something that had never happened to her. Since she had been the head of her family since the age of 11, she was very strong indeed. There was nothing that could break down her spirit; not the Black Forest, not taking a journey to London alone, and not the hard work of the factory. But this was quite a different matter. She felt as though she has lost her younger brother Adam, and it was simply too much to bear.