by Wendy Reakes
From a pocket, I had sewn inside my dress, I took the key which uncle had made for the back door. Now I needed to go outside and I hadn’t gone outside for near on a year.
The air I breathedwhen I stepped through that door was different to the air I breathed up in the rafters. Up there, the air was heavy in the dusty confines of the attic, but outside, on my roof terrace, and now outside the house on the ground, thankfully, the air was fresh and breathable.
The night was black and formidable; visibility low. Only a small glow from the moon offered me a light to guide me along the side of the house and across the courtyard. Before I reached the stables, I wondered if the horses would snort and neigh as my presence agitated them. I soon saw the horses were gone and the stables empty. Then I remembered Celia telling me the livestock all got taken to another place when the family were away, except for one horse, used by Old Porter to pull his cart. I was glad of it. I might have bolted myself if I had heard them neighing with fright as I sneaked about in the dark of night.
I spotted the store straight away. Celia had pencilled me a little map in my journal, so I knew exactly where to find it. I looked across the courtyard to a small building with a single window and a door. That was Old Porter’s lodgings and his office where he paid the accounts to the tradesmen. All the details I’d acquired from my darling Celia.
I could see no light shining from Porter’s building, so it was now or never. I pinned myself up against the door and pushed the key gently into the rusty lock. When it turned, the mechanism clicked so loudly I thought I had surely woken the dead. I was about to slip inside when a beam of light fell across the courtyard. Porter had been stirred by my presence. I cursed myself for being so inept and I knew immediately my chance to take the boots had been thwarted. My only fear now was being discovered before I had a chance to get back to the attic where my baby slept.
Suddenly, as I slinked into the darkness, I heard the door to Porter’s lodgings open.
Then a shot rang out and I felt a pain that urged me to fall to oblivion.
The measure of timewas lost to me. I couldn’t think straight. I was in pain but I could only think about Rain, fearing her waking to the empty attic where her mama was nowhere to be seen. I pinned my hand against the side of my thigh where I could feel wetness soaking my frock. I managed to slip inside the door again and I quickly locked it behind me. I fell against the wall next to the coat stand, the one I had once pulled down to shelter me that terrible night when I’d lost my shoes.
Then I bounced off the wall, knowing that if I rested, I would surely collapse into a deathly heap.
I kept going, not hearing any noise other than the faint sound of a dog barking. As I laboriously climbed all the stairs to the top floor, I kept wondering if the dog and the groundsman would follow and discover me in the house they steadfastly protected.
Finally, I reached the attic door. I staggered up the stairs as best I could, leaning onto anything I could find. My sight was impaired by waves floating across them and my ears pounded with the sound of my heart beat. The only light I had to go by was moonlight filtering through a shutter somewhere, along with my natural ability to see in the dark since that was what I did a lot of now. I closed the door as my face became distorted with the pain surging though my leg. I had been shot. I was sure of it. Oh my god. I am going to die.
I travelled skilfully, using my staunch wits to drive me forward, through the forest of furniture and back to my safe parlour. A tiny candle burned near the bed allowing me through blurred vision to see Rain still asleep, safe and sound swaddled by William’s baby blanket.
Suddenly, I had nothing left to give. My exhaustion had overtaken the desire to survive. I had no more energy or willpower to get up onto the bed to lie next to my baby. I was collapsing to the floor. I was going to die and I wouldn’t be found, nor my dearest helpless baby, until Celia returned in two months’ time. God help and forgive me.
Chapter 20
Porter looked in wonderat the girl lying on the bed. He’d just picked her up from the floor and placed her upon it next to a sleeping baby, of all things. He couldn’t make head or tale of the image. He was surely dreaming.
Only minutes before, when he’d heard a growl coming from Ace’s throat, he’d awoken and known instantly there had been an intruder outside. He’d pulled on his leg, already encased in a boot and a pair of working britches and grabbing his shot gun before he opened the door. He could see nothing in the dark, except for the outline of the buildings on the back of the house across the courtyard. But as he detected a movement and Ace had rushed past him to chase whoever or whatever was out there, he’d raised his gun when he saw a figure moving in the dark. He pulled the trigger. When he reached the entrance at the back of the house, Ace was pacing and growling at the locked door. The door was locked which was a mystery indeed, since he was sure the intruder had gone through it. He’d double backed, told Ace to stay and then he’d paced with only the hint of a limp, back to his lodgings across the way. He’d grabbed the keys from a hook inside the door and ran back to where his dog was sitting obediently and barking as if he would never stop.
Porter had turned the key and let himself inside. He was carrying a lantern he had taken from his room, so he immediately spotted the blood on the floor. Noe of it made sense. He shushed Ace and the dog walked at his side as he went tentatively up the stairs to the main house. The blood led the way, like a trail of red crumbs. When he came to the attic door he turned the handle. It opened. He stepped inside and shone the lantern higher above his head. He instructed Ace to wait as he went inside.
The attic was packed with old furniture. The master had steadfastly not allowed him to clear it out, since his father’s belongings were stored up there.
Next to an old dresser, between a screen and rolled up rug, blood led the way along a path between the furniture. “Come out,” he said with his voice raised. “I know you’re in here. Come out whoever you are.”
When no one appeared, he carried on along the path. He could see a faint glow of light up ahead in the far end where those old glass doors led to a terrace on the roof, to those damn pigeons who turned the stone black on the side of the house. Keeping his wits about him, he came to a beam running along the floor, dividing the far end of the attic from the rest. He stepped over it and walked into someone’s parlour.
There, on the floor was a girl and on the bed, was a baby, sound asleep, wrapped in a white woollen shawl.
Chapter 21
When I opened my eyes to a new day, I did what I always did when I woke each morning, I turned my head to look at Rain. A pain shot up the side of my body as if I had been lashed with a whip. And then I remembered. I had been shot. Oh God help me. When I focused my eyes, to see my baby, Rain had gone.
I was desperate to scream when the pain shot through my body, but I knew I could not. I had to stay still and silent for fear of being discovered. The pain curdled my blood as if I was boiling in acid and my head…that was thumping like the beat of a worn-out drum.
So, I slept.
I was running in the field near uncle’s house, being chased by the black-haired lout, but then I turned and I saw Brent, my brother, holding a baby as he sprinted after me, calling my name, over and over again. I fell and God sent a bolt of lightning to burn the side of my leg. But it wasn’t God. It was uncle carrying a whip, laughing as he tore my skin making me stumble and fall. I fell into a fast running stream where uncle hailed stones at me as I tried to swim as fast as I could. Now, I was drowning and in the reeds beneath the river bed was a cradle where Rain cried with no sound coming from her open mouth.
Blackness.
I awoke and my sheets were sodden. It was surely raining inside the attic. I should stay dry. How could I help my baby if I was wet? A caught a glimpse of a man, maybe the black-haired lout. I screamed and he pinned me down and he was touching me. Oh, God not again. Not again.
So, I slept.
I could see a cand
le burning at the side of the bed.I felt weak, unable to lift my weight. “Rain,” I croaked “Rain?”
A face appeared before me. A man’s face.
I screamed and thrashed my arms but he was too strong for me.
He placed his hands on my shoulder and held me down.
I screamed again.
“Marley,” he said. “Marley, isn’t it?”
I stopped my thrashing and listened to his calming voice. A gentle voice soothing me, despite my fear. “Rain?” I cried. “My baby.”
“She’s safe. She’s sleeping there, you see?” the voice said.
His face was strong and handsome and his smile told me he was a gentle man.
I followed his gaze to a wooden cradle, where inside, my beautiful baby slept peacefully covered in William’s white woollen blanket.
“Who are you?” I asked sullenly, knowing my time was up. I had been discovered. I would be thrown in gaol. Oh, God help me. What about the baby?
“I’m Porter.”
I placed a hand on my head. I couldn’t unravel my thoughts. I couldn’t remember…Then it came to me. I had been shot, shot in the black of night. I reached down where a throb enticed my touch. My leg…my thigh…what of it?
He read my thoughts. “I’m afraid it was I who shot you,” he whispered. “My remorse allows me no sleep.” He sighed. “Still, I have cleaned the wounds. I took out six pellets from the side of your upper leg. There is no infection so I think you will recover very well.”
I could feel my body relax. My muscles were uncoiling as his voice with a Somerset twang pleased me.
“How did you come to be here, Marley?”
I looked at the shadows of my dark attic. It was night time with just a single candle illuminating the cosiness of my parlour.
“I had a key.”
Porter told me I had been unconscious for three days.
I had missed my train. I have been discovered. Now what shall I do?
“You know, everyone thinks you are dead, Marley,” he said.
“Yes, I know. Celia told me.”
“Miss Celia?”
I recoiled. Oh, now I have exposed my dearest friend. Now, she would be sacked for such a deception. Perhaps even her mother too. What a wretch I am. “Please, I forced her to help me. I outwitted her and blackmailed her. She is innocent of my terrible crimes.”
He was frowning, curious about how a girl such as I could live so long in an attic with a baby.
“You shouldn’t worry, Marley. I won’t give you away. I have secrets of my own, you know.”
I knew what he meant, but I didn’t tell him so. “You mean I can stay. You won’t bring the constable?”
“There’ll be no constables brought here, miss. But I can’t let you stay.”
I tried lifting myself from the mattress, but I was too weak to move. “I have nowhere to go.” I said as tears welled up in my eyes. What a self-serving wretch I had become.
“I will find you a place. You must leave it to me.”
He pulled the sheet over my body and forced me to lie down. “Try and sleep now and we’ll talk later.”
“The baby!”
He went to the cradle and lifted up Rain. She looked so tiny in his strong arms. He placed her on the bed next to me as I turned towards her watching her pretty lips closed in silent sleep.
“She is mute,” he said. A statement, not a question.
I blinked the sadness from my eyes.
He leaned across me and stroked her head with his large hands. “I will return in an hour. I have chores to do.”
As he rose from the bed to leave, a thought struck me. “Mr Porter, how did you feed Rain?”
He seemed awkward when he looked back and his gaze fell to my breasts.
Then I blushed as I have never blushed before.
I awoke to the morning light. Rain was in her cradle thrashing her arms and kicking her feet. I pulled myself up and placed my legs over the side of the bed, but when I put my weight onto them, I fell in a heap to the floor. Just at that moment, Porter came into the attic parlour. He rushed to lift me up as if I was weightless and then placed me gently back onto the bed. Our faces were so close our eyes locked as if a bond had been made and would never break.
Tearing away that look in his eyes, he said “You won’t be able to put weight on your leg for a few more days. I should have told you. Let me look at your wounds.”
I gasped at the thought of him seeing my naked leg, but my modesty gave way to the realisation he’d seen it many times, and other parts too. I allowed him to lift the bottom of my nightgown when I suddenly realised it didn’t belong to me. “I tugged at the sleeves edged with fine lace. “Where did you get this?”
He was unwrapping gauze from my thigh, going between my legs as I protected my modesty as much as I was able. “You were bleeding badly. I didn’t want to risk using anything from the attic, in case it was unclean. I went to the mistress’s chamber and took some nightgowns from her closet.”
I gasped. “Now, I truly will be thrown in gaol,” I said.
“No, Marley. I’ll fix it, so you mustn’t worry.”
“But…” then I saw my wounds for the first time. The whole side of my leg, from my hip to my knee was coloured blue with tiny round wounds peppering the skin. They were bright red with no sign of infection.
“The only way to fight infection is to use clean bandages. I found that out during my time in the Boar War when I watched men having their limbs amputated and dying in the process.” He worked as he spoke, dabbing my skin with gauze dipped into a bowl of warm water gone milky white with Dettol. “I was fortunate to meet a doctor who taught me to clean my own wounds. He was a brilliant surgeon. He saved my life.”
Porter took a large roll of bandages he’d made from torn up linen. “These have been sterilised,” he said. “I wash and change your bandages twice a day.”
I wanted to reach out my hand to thank him, but since he was working the layers around my thighs and between my legs, a touch would have been too intimate. Instead I just said it. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “Just repairing the damage I’d caused,” he said.
“It wasn’t your fault, Mr Porter.”
“What were you doing out there? I found the store unlocked with the key still in it.”
I nodded. I couldn’t recall how I had left the store. I’d just panicked. “I was looking for a pair of boots.”
“Why?”
“I was going to leave. I needed them.” Quickly, I added. “But I would have returned them, as soon as I’d got myself settled.”
He smiled. “Once, last winter, when I’d looked up to the top of the house after I heard the sound of pigeons scattering from the terrace up here, I noticed part of the roof was showing its tiles when the rest was covered in snow.”
I didn’t understand him.
“It must have been the heat you were generating from the attic. The snow wouldn’t settle. I was about to come up and investigate when I got called away and I forgot about it after that.” He finished wrapping my leg and tied two ends of the bandages together to form a neat knot. “I wish I had investigated. I could have saved you months of having to live here in these conditions.”
“But I was comfortable, honestly, I was, Mr Porter. I had Celia, the most precious of friends.”
“What happened to you, Marley?” He pulled down my nightgown and smoothed the sheet over my body. He was a gentle man. Not like the black-haired lout.
I came right out and said it. Now wasn’t the time to be secretive. “I was molested.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked at Rain as I reddened with embarrassment. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“I heard the last time anyone saw you was at the village fair. It was said you’d fallen in the river Mells and drowned, but a lot of people didn’t believe it.”
I blinked as the memory of that night intruded my thoughts. “You were there.”
“What?”
“You went past us on your horse. You didn’t stop.”
He shook his head trying to remember. Then he said. “I thought you were both drunk from the fair. You were staggering over the road…”
“Yes, I was trying to help him, but he deceived me.”
“Who was the blaggard?” His cheeks turned red as his anger grew.
“I won’t tell you that,” I said plainly.
“Why not?”
“Because you may feel obliged to seek revenge and I would be responsible for yet more heartache. I won’t do that, Mr Porter.”
“Was it your uncle.”
“Oh no, it wasn’t him. But I think he knew about it, which is why I can never go back. The shame of it, you see. I’d be exposed to more danger…and what of my baby?”
Porter held a frown on his face that was so endearing I wanted to kiss his cheek. I refrained, just in case he thought I was a trollop.
Chapter 22
He fed me chicken broth, while I sat up in bed and he repeatedly placed the spoon in my mouth. Beneath my chin was a cloth of white linen to prevent any spills from scalding my chest. I could see roughly cut carrots and onions floating about on the top, and a green herb I couldn’t identify. He said it was parsley and that there was ‘some wild garlic in there somewhere.’
As I opened my mouth, accepting the spoon with relish, I glanced across the room where my tiny makeshift kitchen has been replenished with supplies; fruit, vegetables, cheese and eggs, as well as some other items covered in muslin cloth. “You brought me food,” I said.
“Yes, you’ll be able to get up tomorrow and you don’t want me fussing over you all the time.”
I smiled. “I don’t mind.”
