by H D Coulter
He made his way upstairs, where George Carter, now his clerk, hurried towards him with another cup of coffee and read out the morning tasks with unfeigned enthusiasm. On his first day, the clerk had sketched out his full personal history for Goldstein’s new manager, hardly pausing for breath, or to drink his own brew. George was a young, sharp-eyed lad of twenty-four, born in Boston into an elite trading family, and eager to make his own mark on the world. He was undeniably keen, and furthermore had a thick, nasal accent, which Joshua had struggled to understand at first.
“Slow down, George, allow me to drink my coffee, and leave the list on my desk – I’ll call you in for your thoughts when I’ve had time to digest both.”
George blushed with embarrassment, handed Joshua his steaming cup, and dodged past him quickly to place the list on his desk. “Thank you, George.” With a nod and an apologetic grin, George strode back into the adjoining office and continued with his tasks.
Joshua mopped the drips from the bottom of his cup along the rim of the saucer and stared out of the window down to the harbour below. He had arranged a surprise for Bea, which should arrive today, if weather permitted, and he hoped that when he arrived home that evening, his reception might hold a little more life than usual. He had kept in contact with Bob Lightfoot, exchanging updates on the effects of the upheaval they had left behind them, and letting him know how his daughter was doing. In one particular letter, Mr Lightfoot had confided in Joshua just how much Bea’s misfortune had cost the family. Business had become slow, and Beth had eventually lost her job when the family for whom she had worked for no longer wanted to be connected with the scandal. He had remarked hopelessly that if Beth was to have any chance of a loving suitor or a suitable position in life, she would need to leave Ulverston. In response, Joshua came up with a plan to help both Lightfoot women. In previous letters, he had informed Mr Lightfoot of Bea’s condition, and the sad difficulties she was experiencing after her ordeal. He had suggested that if Beth came to Boston, she could help support Bea, and they could both give her a fresh start in a society that knew nothing of her past. The second Lightfoot sister would arrive today by three, God willing, and perhaps be all the difference they needed.
Joshua congratulated himself for a moment. He felt constantly responsible for what had happened to the Lightfoot’s after he and Bea had fled. Perhaps worst of all, in an act of revenge, his father had blacklisted Bob’s rope business, convincing four other companies to pull their contracts nigh on simultaneously. Gritting his teeth in shame, he turned back from the window. He should have known his father was more than capable of such bitterness and pride.
Joshua stared at the immediate list of jobs burning a hole in his desk and finished his coffee, keeping one eye conscientiously on the clock.
THE DOCKS WERE SUFFOCATING. The air was thick with sweat, waste, spices, and sugar. On one side stood the grand ships, with the smaller vessels cast in their shadow. Opposite the piers there were warehouses lining the bank, with everything else crammed in between. One man, with sweat running down his grubby face, leaving behind shining lines from hairline to chin, glared at the Englishman as he jumped out of the way from an oncoming crate. Joshua made his way to the pier where the passenger ships were coming in and whiled away the spare minutes, pacing on the spot as he watched people disembark. He had met Beth twice, and on neither of those occasions had he spoken to her, his attentions guided only towards Bea. What if, in fact, she hated him for what he had put her family through? What if this was all a mistake? He watched as each man and woman paused at the top of the ramp in wonder and fear as they contemplated the scene and the skyline in front of them.
Then, for a moment, he thought he saw Bea standing on deck. The sun was shining down on her, and she had a wide-eyed, youthful appearance, the way she used to look when they had first met. Taken back, he found himself catch his breath at the memory. He waited for her to descend and stepped forward.
“Miss Beth Lightfoot?” Joshua tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yes?” She jumped.
“Hello, may I introduce myself – properly, for once - I am Joshua Mason.” He held out his hand for her to shake.
Her expression relaxed as a smile spread across her face and a little chuckle ebbed out at her initial surprise as she took hold of his hand. “Hello, Mr Mason, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Is Miss Crookshank with you? How was your journey?”
“Yes, thank you, it was strange; oddly, given my Da’s profession, I have never been on a ship before, and there were moments it was very choppy – Rose, Miss Crookshank, is somewhere just behind me.” Joshua spotted another lost soul a few feet away, scanning the people around her for a sight of her friend. “Rose, over here!” Beth waved her hand in the air.
“There you are -”
“Rose, Miss Crookshank: Mr Joshua Mason, my brother-in-law.”
“Hello Sir.” Rose did a strange little curtsy as Joshua doffed his hat towards her, trying not to smile.
“A pleasure to meet you. I have a carriage waiting to take us straight to the house. Bea will be happy to see you again, Miss Lightfoot.”
“Call me Beth, please, it feels too strange now for you to call me Miss Lightfoot.”
“Then you must call me Joshua.”
“Agreed.” smiled Beth.
Joshua gestured to the two men standing behind, holding their luggage towards the carriage, and they turned as one away from the ship.
Joshua shut the door, blocking out the sounds of passage and toil, and thumped the roof to signal they wished to set off.
“I have not told Bea you are arriving, I wanted it to be a surprise for her.”
“How is she?” Beth lowered her voice.
“She...” He looked at Miss Crookshank for a moment and filtered his words carefully. “She is... resting, preparing for the baby.” He forced a weak smile, and Beth understood.
Chapter 7
Sarah came racing down the stairs with a distressed expression toward the three people standing in the doorway. Joshua sprang forward immediately. “Sarah, what has happened? Where is Bea?”
“Sir, I sent a boy to your work, but you’d gone – it is Mistress...” Joshua dropped the bags and ran towards the stairs taking two at a time, with Sarah explaining breathlessly from behind: “she been funny all day Sir, never really waking, not eating, and then she started a-shoutin’ and a wailin’, and nothin’ I could do would-”.
“They are going to kill my baby.” Bea’s scream through the bedroom door was so high-pitched that it pierced their ear drums.
“Bea?” Joshua barged into the room. He saw his ghostly-white wife stumbling back and forth, muttering to herself with protective arms wrapped round her bump. “Bea, what’s wrong?”
“They are trying to kill my baby.”
“Who are?”
“The rope, it is tightening around her neck.”
Joshua spun round and stared at Sarah. “What has happened? Why is she talking like this?”
“She just woke this way – about two hours ago, I heard a scream from downstairs, so I came up, and saw Mistress covered in sweat, shoutin’ nonsense. I did not want to leave her, so I got the runner-boy to fetch you – but you’d gone.”
“Bea, its Joshua, I need you to sit down and talk to me.”
“Who?” She stared at him blankly, broke out of his hold and kept moving. “They need to be stopped – they can’t have her – they had me once – they can’t have her.” Joshua froze in shock, his outstretched arms vacant.
Beth moved past Joshua and placed an arm around Bea’s shoulder as she walked beside her. “Bea, its Beth, love.”
“Beth? Beth! Beth, fetch Da, please, quickly.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll fetch him. You just sit here now, alright, on the bed? That’s it, good girl.”
“He’ll know what to do.” Bea muttered to herself, rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed.
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br /> “What are you talking about, your Da isn’t here, I’m here -” Joshua looked from one sister to the other, with wide, hopeless eyes. He tried to reach out to Bea once more, but Beth grabbed his arm.
“Joshua, may I have a word – out in the hallway?” Beth funnelled Joshua out the open door and closed it quietly behind them. “Joshua, you need to fetch a doctor. I will stay with Bea.”
“Why does she not know me?” Pain and exhaustion were all too clear in his face, and Beth could finally see the toll the last six months had taken on the man in front of her.
“It’s the pregnancy. I have seen other women go through this. She needs a doctor - now.”
“What, is she - ... will she be...?”
“We must not think that way. If you hurry, you can save them both.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. “I can’t lose her.”
She rested her hand on top of his and gave him a look of determination, a look he knew well. “Who is her doctor? Fetch him or a midwife, Sarah might know of one in the community. Either way, she needs someone now.” She gave him a light pat on the hand before letting go and headed back to her sister.
“Sarah?” Sarah stood two feet away from him, still clutching onto the damp cloth in her hand. “Do you know anything about birthing children? Or of any women who have helped others through labour, a midwife perhaps?”
Sarah thought of the wise woman who visited her when it was time for her child to come into the world. The fear gripped her heart, knowing her child would become a slave the minute it was born. She hadn’t wanted to let go of it, to bring an innocent life into that hateful world. She saw the same look now on her Mistress’s face. “I know only a little sir, but there is another, someone who all our women use.”
“Can you get your boy to fetch her? I’ll pay for her time – please?”
“I can, but... sir...”
“What?”
“She is black, Sir... a Negro.”
Joshua let out a small laugh of relief. “It makes no difference to me; all I care is that she can help my wife.” There was no judgement in his voice, only concern as he headed towards the stairs.
“Yes Sir – I’ll send for her.”
“Thank you, watch over her.” He gave her the same look of trust and thankfulness he had given her every morning as he left the house. “I’m going to fetch the doctor, but I hold little store by him.” Another scream from Bea followed as he bounded down the stairs, jumping the last three, and sprinted out the door.
Sarah quickly shuffled after him and made her way to the kitchen where the little boy sat by the fire eating a chunk of fruitcake.
“I need y’to head over to Miss Fishers, now, as fast as you can.”
“For her, who’s screaming?”
“Tell her it’s my Mistress and her unborn babe.”
He nodded his head, placed the rest of the cake in his mouth, grabbed another slice for his pocket, and made his way out the back door toward the alleyway.
Sarah gathered a small bowl of cold water and replaced the fabric in her hand with new ones before making her way back up to the bedroom.
“BETH, I SAW IT, I CAN feel it: the rope is around my baby’s neck, she can’t breathe...”
“Bea, I need you to sit down. Your baby is fine, she is still in your belly, you are protecting her.” Beth stood in front of her, wanting to grab her, to hold her tight, but fearful all the while, sensing her sister could feel something wrong with the pregnancy and having no clue herself as to the best course of action.
“You don’t understand, none of you do.”
Balancing the bowl in one hand with the fabric draped over her shoulder, Sarah opened the door. She placed the items on top of the dresser, rolled one piece of fabric into a wad, and dipped it into the cool water.
“Mistress - Bea, I need you to sit.” Sarah gently rested her hands on the trembling outstretched arms and guided the clammy woman towards her small velvet chair, a few feet away. She rung out the water from the cloth and placed it on Bea’s feverish forehead. Bea calmed, as the soothing relief of the wet cloth penetrated her chaotic mind.
“None of them know... to think you’re going to die... to feel the rope around your neck, snapping tight...” For the first time, Sarah wondered exactly what had happened to her Mistress all that way across the sea. She saw a woman who had been on a torturous journey, much like herself, to escape her past and find some kind of freedom.
“Thank you - Sarah, is it? I’m Beth, Bea’s second sister. I’ve seen this... this thing, before - have you? Back home, another woman close with child. As the due date neared, she became feverish, and seeing things that weren’t there. The baby came into the world already dead,” she whispered the last words. “And the mother, she... she died giving birth. The amount of blood was too much. I was her maid, but also her friend.” Her voice was distant. “She wanted me there, I held her hand and then I - cleaned up the room afterwards. I never thought that...”
“That thing won’t happen today.” Sarah’s voice was firm and controlled.
Beth nodded, and squeezed one of Sarah’s hands, damp from the cloth, both keeping an ear out for the door, praying the boy found Miss Fisher before it was too late.
Bea drifted in and out of consciousness, moaning in pain and spouting randomly chosen words. Sarah kept cooling down the rags and placed them back on her head and over her collarbones. Her face was swollen, red, and blotchy. Sarah had noticed how her hands and feet had grown bigger over the past couple of days, and wondered maybe this wasn’t normal swelling. Back in her old community, stories from women in different plantations would advise sending for the wise woman. The smell of the tea would filter through the little wooden huts as the songs from the homeland danced around the birthing hut, and the birdsong mingled with the women’s cries. Miss Fisher would know what to do.
The front door slammed, breaking her free from the ghosts.
“Straight up the stairs Dr Hutton, second door on your left.”
An older, stout of a man barged through the door, followed by Joshua. He peered over the doctor’s shoulder and then weaved passed him.
“How is the patient doing?” The doctor stared dispassionately at the three women in the room. One in the corner, confused by the proceeding. Another, anxiously pacing, startled by the sudden noise. His gaze hovered over the black woman, who was kneeling beside his patient, holding a cloth to her head. He let out a low grunt and then shuffled towards them, bag in hand.
“That won’t do any good. Step back so I can attend to my patient,” he grumbled.
Sarah kept her head down and, without muttering a word, stood up and placed the rag back in the water.
“What do you think could be wrong, doctor?” asked Joshua in a hoarse voice as he knelt beside the chair.
“She seems to be asleep now, her face is puffy, but that is normal for the time she has left; two or three weeks?” Joshua nodded. The doctor placed two fingers on the inside of Bea’s wrist and studied his pocket watch. “Her heart rate is rapid, but that could be because she had some sort of fright. Everything seems normal to me. She probably has experienced nothing more than a bad dream.”
“A bad dream?” Beth exclaimed incredulously.
“Young woman, please, do not allow yourself these hysterics. You will wake the lady.”
“It was more than a bad dream doctor. If you had only seen her when she was awake, she was in a lot of pain,” offered Beth, lowering her voice.
“Women have described having vivid dreams when they are with child, and so to her it probably seemed real, pain and all. Has she been under much stress recently?”
“I- well... some stress, yes, with the move, and preparing for the birth. She was... sickly for a few months, before we were married.”
“Well, there you have it. That will be it, and all she needs, therefore, is plenty of rest. Yes, bed-rest, with none of this unnecessary fussing, is what I advise. You
may call upon me when it is time for her delivery.”
“But... you will not check the child?”
“The lady is my patient, not the child – there is certainly nothing more I can do in that case until she goes into labour.”
Bea let out another moan and shuffled on the chair. Her eyes shot open suddenly as she let out a low scream. Joshua held out his hands in front of her, not knowing where to place them in fear of hurting her further.
“Joshua – Joshua?”
