This morning, after they had finished eating and the family had left the kitchen, Mrs Peart said, ‘You’re looking a bit peaky today, Mary. Are you feeling alright?’
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ replied Mary. She didn’t want Mrs Peart to know that she had been ill for a while because she might send her home.
‘Sorry lass, it’s probably just your time of the month. I know what it’s like.’ She nodded to herself as she left Mary alone in the room.
‘Time of the month’ echoed in Mary’s head. She sat down. When had her last ‘time of the month’ been? She couldn’t remember. And slowly it dawned on her. All the pieces fell into place and she knew — she was with child.
Her mother had been sick a lot when she was pregnant with John, especially on a morning, and she had often asked Mary to cook breakfast, and sometimes dinner, because the smell of food had made her feel ill. It all added up; she was carrying Joe’s baby.
Mary realised that what Joe and her had been doing was wrong because they weren’t married yet. She was a country girl and knew that it could result in her having a baby, but she didn’t think that would happen so soon, especially when they hadn’t been together many times. But it was alright because they both wanted to marry and have a family and a farm. Joe had said as much on the way back from the dance. He had said he wanted a farm and a family, in that order, but she was sure he would be happy whichever came first. She was thrilled that they were going to have a baby.
She had to see Joe; she had to tell him.
The evening was dry, so she set off to the woods, hoping that Joe would do the same. On her way there, Mary thought about the life that was growing inside her. It was hard to imagine that there was a baby in there, her and Joe’s baby. She was so excited about telling Joe the news that she ran most of the way to the woods to meet him. It was the first evening for over a week that it hadn’t rained, and she hoped he would be there.
She came into the clearing and saw him standing near the ash tree. The ground was wet and muddy. She went over to him and stood in front of him. Looking up, she said, ‘Joe, I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘What is it, Mary? What’s happened?’
She smiled up at him and said, ‘I’m going to have a baby. Our baby.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Joe, as he took a step back. ‘A baby?’
‘Yes Joe, a baby.’
He looked shocked. He turned away and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.
‘Aren’t you happy that you’re going to be a father?’ asked Mary. Her shoulders slumped.
Joe shook his head from side to side, ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t given it any thought. No thought at all.’
‘Well you should have. It’s what happens when lads and lasses lie together. I thought you’d be pleased. You told me that you wanted to have a family and a farm. We can get married and we can have them both. Just think, Joe,’ she said as she touched her tummy, ‘our baby’s in here. A little boy or a little girl. A part of you and a part of me. Don’t you think that’s wonderful?’
‘Mary, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.’
Mary watched him walk away through the trees and into the night. She stood there alone wondering what had just happened.
Chapter 10
Springbank Farm, Westgate
January 1873
Christmas and the New Year came and went. Joe was leaving the farmhouse through the front door and he was so deep in thought that he didn’t see Mary watching him. She was polishing the walnut breakfast table that stood by the parlour window and her eyes followed him until he was out of sight.
Joe hoped he had done the right thing. It had always been his dream to own a farm. He had to take this opportunity before someone else did. If he missed out on this chance to get Springbank Farm, he knew that he would regret it for the rest of his life. He had wanted it for as long as he could remember. As a boy, he had played there, and he had worked there whenever an extra pair of hands was needed. It was as familiar to him as his mother’s farm, which he could never own. High House Farm belonged to the Bishop of Durham’s estate and it would never be for sale, but even if it was, there was no way he could afford to buy it. He had to find another way — and this was it.
To own your own land was a step up. The villagers would look up to him as they did Mr Peart. He would even be able to vote in elections. Yes, he was certain that he had done the right thing. He wanted Springbank Farm more than anything.
Joe had heard the rumour about Connie and knew that no gentleman would consider marriage to her in case it was true. He didn’t really mind if it was true or not. Connie’s virginity was not a major concern to him. She was his ticket to securing Springbank Farm and, as her options were limited now, it meant that she was more likely to give his proposal serious consideration.
His thoughts turned to Mary. She had reminded him of what he wanted when they had met in the woods the other night. He grimaced. He thought of her standing there telling him she was going to have his baby and that they could get married. Where had she got that idea from? Aye, she was a bonny lass and he liked her well enough, and he might have considered marrying her if it wasn’t for the farm. He thought that it was a pity her family were only miners and that she hadn’t anything to bring to a marriage.
Anyway, Mary wasn’t his problem. She could take care of herself. She was a strong lass and she had a family who would take care of her. Families always did. He knew in his own mind that he had made the right choice. If Connie agreed to be his wife, he would inherit the farm when Mr Peart died.
***
Connie had been summoned to the parlour; her father wanted to see her. When she entered the room, he was sitting in an armchair and he held a glass of whisky in his hand.
‘Come in, Connie. Have a seat. There’s something I need to talk to you about.’
‘What is it?’ She asked, as she sat down.
‘I know it’s not long since you broke up with Henry.’
‘Please don’t even mention his name to me,’ said Connie, rolling her eyes.
‘It’s not about him. I just hope that experience hasn’t put you off marrying anybody else.’
‘No, why would it?’
‘It’s just that I’ve had a gentleman here this morning and he asked me for your hand in marriage.’
‘What!’ she said in surprise. ‘Who was it?’
‘Joe Milburn.’
‘Joe!’ she laughed. ‘You said a gentleman.’
‘Joe Milburn is a decent young man. You’ve known each other since you were children. He’s a hard worker. He knows this farm better than anyone. Why not Joe?’
‘I don’t know. It’s just I’ve never thought of him in that way. I had no idea that he even liked me.’
‘Well, perhaps you should have a think about it. He’s coming back tomorrow for an answer. Let me know what you decide in the morning.’
Connie went back to her room and sat by the window, staring out across the sodden fields. So, Joe Milburn wanted to marry her. Her father had asked, ‘Why not Joe?’ and she asked herself the same question. She had to admit that he was handsome, with his dark hair and dark eyes. He was a bit rough around the edges perhaps, but she could help him with that. He was young and strong and he would be capable of running the farm when the time came.
She knew it bothered her father that he didn’t have a son to pass the farm down to. The man she married would inherit it and, if she chose someone who had no interest in farming, Springbank Farm would be sold off to the highest bidder. She wouldn’t like to see that happen.
If she chose Joe, she thought, the future of the farm would be secure. It would stay in the family and that would surely make her father like her more. She knew he had always been disappointed that she had been born a girl and that her mother had been unable to bear him a son.
Joe Milburn had played at the farm as a boy. He had worked there regularly at clipping time and at hay time and whene
ver he was needed. He was one of the most frequent visitors at the farmhouse. Her parents had grown close to Joe over the years. When she thought about it like that, she was surprised that she wasn’t jealous of their friendship. Joe had always been there for as long as she could remember.
Connie knew that it must have been Henry who had started that rumour about her. She would never forgive him for that. Nobody had shown any interest in her since then and she hadn’t received any invitations to society parties or events. Would that change in future? Would anyone else want to marry her? Or would she end up an old spinster living alone?
And then there was Mary. She had seen for herself that Mary was interested in Joe. If she accepted Joe’s offer and married him, Mary wouldn’t be able to have him. That thought pleased her.
Marriage was a big step, a lifelong commitment. She decided to sleep on it and in the morning she would know the answer.
Chapter 11
Springbank Farm, Westgate
January 1873
The next day, Mrs Peart was in a state of excitement as she bustled around the house looking for Mary. She found her in the kitchen, preparing vegetables for dinner. ‘Mary, come and sit in the parlour, we have a lot to talk about.’ Mary’s stomach lurched as she followed the older woman along the corridor and towards the parlour. How could Mrs Peart have found out about the baby? Mary had been so careful to hide her pregnancy. Surely Joe wouldn’t have said anything. Is that why he had been to the house yesterday? The Pearts would throw her out if they knew she was expecting, and she would have to go home to Fell Top — if her father would take her in.
‘Mary, are you listening? Please sit down,’ Mrs Peart said.
Mary sat obediently in the comfortable armchair facing her employer, but she felt far from comfortable. She couldn’t understand why Mrs Peart was smiling; it didn’t make any sense. What was that she said? ‘So, the wedding will take place as soon as the banns can be read, in about a month. Just one month! That’s all the time we have to prepare and there’s so much to do. I’m going to need your help, Mary. We want our Connie and Joe to have the best wedding Westgate has ever seen.’
Mary’s heart missed a beat. Had she heard correctly? Connie and Joe were to be married. How could he marry Connie? He was supposed to marry her. She was having his baby and she loved him. Didn’t he love her? Obviously not, she thought. There was no way that he would consider marrying Connie if he loved her.
Mrs Peart paused and looked directly at Mary. She reached out and touched her brow. ‘Are you not feeling very well? I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve been saying. Go and make a cup of tea for now. We’ll start making the arrangements in the morning.’
Mary’s mind drifted. When she had first realised she was going to have Joe’s baby, she assumed that he would be pleased, that they would get married and then get a farm together and have more children. That is what he had wanted; he had said so on the way back from the dance. Why had he changed his mind?
It slowly dawned on Mary that he hadn’t changed his mind. She wasn’t part of Joe’s plan and she never had been. He didn’t want to settle down with her. Springbank Farm had been what he had wanted all along. He couldn’t buy it, so the only way he could get it was by marrying Connie. Connie would inherit the farm when her father died and, as married women couldn’t own property, it would belong to her husband. If Joe married Connie, he would become the next owner of Springbank Farm. Oh Joe, how could you? She couldn’t imagine her Joe married to such a selfish woman. Mary felt sick. She had thought that Joe loved her, really loved her. How could she have been so stupid? And now she would have a baby, but she would never have its father. Mary remembered her father’s words of warning, ‘There’s plenty that’ll take advantage of a bonny young lass like you.’ She had been such a fool.
‘I’m not feeling well, Mrs Peart. Will you manage if I go and lie down for a bit?’ Mary didn’t wait for an answer. She ran upstairs to her room, flopped down on her bed and sobbed into the bedspread. She cried and cried until there were no more tears left to fall.
During the next four weeks, wedding preparations kept everyone in the Peart household busy. Mrs Peart and Connie made several trips to Newcastle to buy everything they needed for the celebrations. They met with a distinguished dressmaker and they were both very excited about Connie’s wedding dress.
The house was cleaned from top to bottom. This was left almost entirely to Mary, although Mrs Peart did help a little.
Mrs Peart discussed food for the wedding feast with Mary and told her what food would be ordered, what animals would be slaughtered and what Mary would need to prepare. They planned what she would make in the days preceding the wedding and what would be made on the day.
Reverend Richards was a frequent visitor during this time. He met with Joe and Connie to discuss the institution of marriage, and met with the family to discuss the wedding service and sometimes, it seemed to Mary, he just came for tea.
Everything for ‘the big day’ was managed down to the finest detail.
The wedding invitations were written in Mrs Peart’s neat handwriting. Mary was given a large pile of them to post. On the way to the village, she had been so tempted to tear them up, drop them in the mud and stamp on them or float them down the river. But she didn’t.
***
Joe and Connie didn’t start courting until the time of their engagement. Although they had known each other since childhood, when they walked together and chatted, they felt like strangers. Connie showed little interest in Joe’s conversation about the farm and livestock and his plans for the future, so he let her do most of the talking. He thought she prattled on about the daftest things — hairstyles, clothes, Star and her pet dog, Charlie.
Charlie was a little red and white dog with a flat nose and he was just a pet. Connie insisted on taking Charlie on their walks and, much to Joe’s astonishment, she talked to the dog as if he was a child. She petted him and sometimes she even picked him up and carried him when the path was rough or muddy. Joe didn’t know anyone else who kept a dog as a pet. Dogs were meant to work. They herded sheep, guarded property, killed rats or retrieved game. What use was a pet?
Joe held Connie’s hand when she wasn’t carrying the dog. He had tried to kiss her several times but, whenever he moved towards her, Charlie started to bark at him and nipped at his heels. He had laughed at the time, but it was very frustrating. He thought that perhaps he had discovered what Charlie’s job was — guardian of his mistress’s innocence. The dog needed discipline and training.
Once Connie was living with him at High House Farm, he would put a stop to all her daftness.
Chapter 12
St Andrew’s Church, Westgate
February 1873
Connie looked beautiful on her wedding day. Her parents had made sure of that. She had an outfit fit for a princess. The white silk wedding dress had been copied from a design by Worth of Paris. The bodice fitted perfectly and showed off her tiny waist to perfection. The skirt had a huge bustle and long train, both the height of fashion. A long, delicate lace veil covered her face. She wore a pearl pendant on a gold chain around her neck, a wedding gift from her father.
As Connie walked down the aisle towards Joe, he was completely dazzled by her. She looked stunning. He realised he was standing with his mouth open and promptly closed it. He couldn’t believe his luck — he had a very beautiful bride and, in time, he would also have the farm that he had always longed for. Dreams really could come true.
His brother stood by his side. After Tom’s initial surprise at the news of the marriage, he had agreed to be Joe’s best man. Tom had questioned Joe about his relationship with Connie because everything seemed to have happened very quickly. He had never seen the couple together and he didn’t even know that Joe had had his eye on her. During the conversation, Tom had reminded Joe about when the three of them were little. As children, they had played tricks on each other. Connie had loved it when her pranks worked on
the boys but had hated it when the joke was on her. She’d had such a temper back then. Her face would go bright red, then she would yell at the top of her voice and then she would storm off to tell her father. They had laughed at the memory. Joe marvelled at how different the woman walking down the aisle towards him was from the girl he remembered.
Mr Peart kissed his daughter’s cheek and sat down next to his wife on the front pew. Reverend Richards performed the ceremony without a hitch and it didn’t seem long before he said, ‘You may now kiss the bride.’ Joe put his arms around Connie and kissed her on the lips, and he was pleasantly surprised when she kissed him back, fairly passionately considering they were in company. Some of the congregation cheered and others smiled knowingly at their partners.
***
Mary watched the ceremony from the back of the church and she felt utterly miserable. She had just witnessed the man she loved marry a woman she didn’t even like. After that ridiculously long kiss, she had seen Connie looking at her and, when their eyes met, Connie had smiled triumphantly, making Mary feel angry and bitter. She didn’t know how she would endure the rest of the day.
The guests returned to the farmhouse for the wedding reception which was a grand affair. All the relatives and villagers who had been to the service were invited. The wedding cake was the largest Mary had ever seen; it had a large round cake at the bottom and a medium-sized round cake sitting on top of it, and it was all covered in fancy white icing. Connie took a knife from Mrs Peart, and she and Joe cut the cake to a round of applause. Then she passed the knife back to Mrs Peart so that she could cut it into small portions for the guests, most of whom were drinking sherry and chatting loudly.
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