by Anna Jacobs
For a moment he was silent, then he said, ‘What happened?’
So she explained in more detail what her father was doing to her and her plans to run away.
As the minutes ticked by without him commenting, she wondered if this would be the last time she saw him.
Finally, he made a little noise in his throat and said, ‘I think you’d be better marrying me than running away. I’d never beat you and I earn a steady living in my father’s business.’
She was so shocked she could only gape at him.
He smiled across at her sadly. ‘I know you’re not in love with me, Kathleen, and you don’t want to marry anyone. But you’ll be safe with me, at least. I promise you.’
There was another reason she didn’t want to be married and it burst out now. ‘I’d still be tied to our children, though. The Kellers usually have large families and the women do nothing but have babies and run round after them.’
‘The Seatons don’t usually have large families and anyway, there are ways to limit families in this modern world. One of the grooms told me about it. I’d want two or three children, but not a dozen.’
She stared at him. ‘It’s a sin to stop the children coming.’
‘Only in your church.’
‘Oh. Yes, I suppose so. And if I marry you and join your church, will you promise you’ll do that? Keep the number of children down?’
‘Yes. I promise.’
And she believed him. He was like a child in a man’s body, blurting things out without thinking. But if he was telling the truth, he’d be able to keep her safe. A great weight slid from her shoulders. Something had gone wrong in her mother’s body and she’d borne a dead child after Kathleen, then been unable to have any others. So she’d only had five children. But other women from church had ten or more. She didn’t want to be trapped like that.
‘How can we get married, though? Da won’t give permission for me to marry anyone who isn’t a Catholic.’
‘You’re over twenty-one now. You don’t need his permission. My father won’t want me to marry you, either, so we must do it secretly. I shan’t say anything to him till after we’ve tied the knot.’
He frowned, clearly thinking hard, and she waited patiently.
‘Can you get hold of your birth certificate, Kathleen?’
‘Yes. Ma keeps all the family’s papers in the top drawer of the sideboard in our front room, the rent book and so on.’
‘Good. And can you get out of the house after everyone’s asleep?’
‘I can try. I’d need to get away tonight, though, or I’ll spend tomorrow evening fending off Desmond Mannion. He … um, started bumping into me when we walk together and tries to touch me where he shouldn’t.’
Ernest looked across at her sympathetically. ‘I’ve met him. He worked at our yard for a few days but my father sacked him. He boasted about the women he’d had. I didn’t like him. What time can you leave the house?’
‘My parents are heavy sleepers. They never stir once they’re asleep. But my father locked me in my bedroom last night and I should think he’ll do the same every night from now on till they marry me off. I’ll have to try to climb out of the window. I’ve read in storybooks about people knotting sheets together to escape.’
Ernest shook his head. ‘It’ll be easier if I bring a ladder, won’t it? Can you get the window open and climb through it or does he lock that as well? And dare you climb down a ladder?’
She returned his smile. ‘It wouldn’t occur to Da to lock the window. And I wouldn’t be at all afraid to climb down. I was a tomboy when I was little and I used to love climbing trees till Ma stopped me playing with the lads.’
‘Midnight it is, then.’ He stood up. ‘I have to get back to work now, but I won’t let you down, Kathleen.’
Again she believed him, she didn’t know why. He might speak and think slowly, but he seemed honest.
Was she doing the right thing? She didn’t know. But it would be better than running away on her own. She’d never even been out of Swindon, so she wouldn’t have any idea where to go.
That night after she was locked in her bedroom, Kathleen put her plan into operation. There were no gaslights up here, only downstairs, and they hadn’t given her a candle, but she was able to see clearly enough to pack her clothes by the light from the gas street lamp outside, whose top was just level with the bottom part of her window.
Trying to move silently, she stuffed as many of her spare clothes as she could into her pillowcase, used safety pins to help keep it closed and put it under the bed. Then she put on her best skirt under her working skirt, and two extra blouses, as well as extra underwear. She felt like an overstuffed doll, but she wanted to take as many clothes with her as she could.
Afraid of falling asleep, she sat bolt upright, her back against the wall and listened carefully to what was happening downstairs.
It seemed a long time till she heard her parents come upstairs. Soon their bedhead began bumping against the wall in a regular rhythm. Her father snorted and moaned as he had his way with her mother. He was like an animal, Kathleen thought, doing that nearly every night and not caring who heard him.
She’d asked her mother once if that sort of thing was normal and if it hurt. Her mother had shrugged and said you got used to it because men insisted on it and no, it didn’t usually hurt.
Desmond Mannion would treat his wife the same way, Kathleen was sure, and she didn’t intend to get used to it, thank you very much. Ugh. The very thought of him doing that to her made her feel sick.
But what would Ernest Seaton be like in bed? Would he keep his word and be gentle with her? Doubts were creeping in now because he was right about one thing: she didn’t love him, didn’t think she ever could, and didn’t really want him to touch her, either.
He was such a pale, plump man with thin stringy hair whose brown colour already looked faded, though he was only twenty-eight. He seemed kind and decent, though, if not very clever. She prayed she wasn’t mistaken about that. Kindness made a lot of things more bearable in this life, even small kindnesses from your workmates.
If the two of them could manage to get married without her father stopping them – or Ernest’s father – she’d be free and her parents could disown her all they liked.
She knew that their main reason for pushing her into marriage was to get all their children tied to ‘good providers’ so that when her father was old and unable to work, there would be money to spare to look after them. You’d think they could save enough to look after themselves, because he earned more than most men round here, but her father liked to buy his friends a drink and her mother was a poor manager so the money, including Kathleen’s wages, was often frittered away.
There had been no noises from the next bedroom for a long time, so when she heard the church clock chime midnight, she put on her shabby boots and went to look out of the window. Her Sunday shoes were safe in the pillowcase and she’d managed to fit most of her decent clothes in it too because she didn’t have all that many.
She sighed in relief as she saw Ernest waiting near the corner. It was a good sign that he had kept his promise and was on time, surely?
As she slid the bottom half of the window open slowly and carefully, he looked up and waved, bringing the ladder closer. She’d greased the pulley cords of the window tonight with a dollop of dripping she’d scooped on to an old rag when she was washing the dishes. To her relief the window didn’t squeak at all. Another good sign.
She’d easily got hold of her birth certificate because her mother insisted that she keep her library books in the front room, except for the one she was reading. Her mother was terrified of them getting damaged, for some strange reason, and a fine being applied, even though Kathleen had been borrowing books for years without that happening.
There was a faint clunk and the top of the ladder appeared against the bedroom windowsill. She took a deep breath and gestured, before throwing her bundle of clothes down to E
rnest. He caught it deftly and set it to one side, then held the bottom of the ladder and signalled her to climb out.
She crossed herself automatically before she did this, then got annoyed with herself for doing something religious when she’d vowed to be done with the Church. Taking a deep breath, she eased out on to the ladder. After a couple of rungs, she closed the window.
It was all happening so easily and smoothly she couldn’t believe it.
‘I was worried you’d change your mind,’ he whispered as she reached the ground.
‘No. Not at all.’
Ernest took the wooden ladder away from the windowsill, hefted it into a comfortable position and began walking.
She walked beside him, clutching her pillowcase tightly and wondering where they were going.
He took her to the yard at Seaton and Son, unlocking the gate and putting one finger to his lips. He trod lightly when he walked, as some plump men did, and she watched him stow the ladder away neatly. Was he going to hide her here? Surely not when her father worked for Seaton’s and was sleeping in the house at the other side of the yard?
But Ernest led the way out into the street again and locked the gate.
‘Where are we going?’ she whispered, worrying now.
‘I’m taking you to stay with our old housekeeper till you and I can marry, but I can’t get you there till tomorrow because she lives outside Swindon to the west, in a village called Monks Barton.’
‘I’ve never heard of it.’
‘It’s a small place, about ten miles from here. That’s too far for me to walk because I’d have to come back home afterwards.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I’m not good at walking long distances. Even half that distance would make me too tired to think straight and I’m going to need all my wits about me to get us safely married.’
‘So what shall I do tonight?’
‘There’s a shepherd’s hut just outside town that no one uses now. You’ll be safe there. It’s not too far. I’ve got a load to deliver near Monks Barton tomorrow afternoon and I’ll pick you up as I pass the hut. You should hide on the cart under the tarpaulin till we get there, if you don’t mind. It’ll be better if no one sees you till after we’re married.’
When she didn’t answer straight away, he asked, ‘Will that be all right?’
‘Yes, of course. Only … what does your housekeeper think of this? Does she know I’m coming?’
‘No, she doesn’t but she’ll make you welcome for my sake. I can always rely on Rhoda to help me. She’s the only person who’s ever really cared about me.’
‘What about your brother?’
‘Alex? I’ve only spoken to him once or twice since he moved away from home. My father would throw a fit if he saw us together.’
‘You seem very sure of this housekeeper.’
A smile lit his face briefly, making it suddenly seem less dull. ‘I am sure of her. You see, my mother left me in Rhoda’s care most of the time when I was younger, because Mother doesn’t like children and I was rather sickly. So Rhoda’s my real mother, as far as I’m concerned.’
Ernest took the pillowcase from her and they walked in silence for a while. He looked happy, much happier than she felt about this whole thing. All she knew was that marrying this man was her best, and perhaps her only, chance of staying out of Desmond Mannion’s clutches without having to tramp the roads and end up who knew where. So she was going to seize it with both hands.
She hoped she and Ernest would manage to build a decent life. His family were well off so there ought not to be any money problems. But what if his father disowned him as he had Ernest’s brother? How would they live then? She’d not think of that; they would face the problem if they met it.
Perhaps she could repay what Ernest was doing for her by helping him get away from his father one day. She certainly didn’t want to live in the same town as her own family.
If the two of them saved hard they might buy a little shop or a lodging house somewhere far away from Swindon. At the seaside, perhaps. She’d be good at helping Ernest run a business, she was sure. She was clever with money. She’d had to be because she’d had to make a farthing do the work of a penny all her life.
She stumbled and nearly fell. Ach, this was no time to be dreaming! She had to stay alert.
As they left the built-up areas behind without meeting anyone, she began to feel more hopeful that they really would succeed in getting away. She looked round with increasing interest because she’d not been far out of town in this direction before and the moonlight was bright enough to let her see the countryside they were walking through.
Her weekend strolls with the girls from church were quite short and they did more talking than walking. Their main topics were clothes and finding husbands. The group of young women had got smaller every year as one by one they got married.
She’d only gone out with them to get out of the house and didn’t have much in common with them. She’d rather have stayed at home and read a book but her father wouldn’t have let her waste her time on that sort of thing. She could only read when he was out at the pub or when she bought a candle and sneaked it up to her bedroom.
After about a mile, Ernest stopped next to a gate leading into a small field and pointed to a rough wooden hut in the far corner. He was panting slightly, which surprised her because they hadn’t been walking fast.
‘There’s the shepherd’s hut. No one uses it now, so you can wait for me there quite safely. I’ve eaten my midday sandwiches in it a few times when it was raining, so I know the roof is still sound, and there’s a little stream nearby with clean water, so you won’t go thirsty.’
He opened the gate and led the way across the field to the corner. ‘No one will see you if you stay inside the hut. If you need a drink you should make sure no one’s around before you go to the stream. And I bought you this in case you got hungry.’
He took out from inside his jacket what looked like a packet of buns. They were a bit squashed, but she’d be glad of them later, she was sure.
‘You’ve hardly spoken, Kathleen. You’re not … having second thoughts, are you?’
‘No, no. But I don’t know whether I’m on my head or my heels, it’s all happened so quickly. I’m deeply grateful to you for helping me, Ernest, and I promise I’ll do my best to be a good wife to you.’
‘I’ll do my best to be a good husband, too.’ He indicated the yellowing bruise on her cheek. ‘And I’ll never hit you, I swear. Never.’
He showed her the stream then said he had to leave in order to get home before anyone was stirring. ‘I don’t know what time I’ll get here. Just before noon, I hope, but sometimes the delivery schedules change, so don’t worry if I’m later than that. I won’t let you down.’
‘I know.’ She set her bundle down in the hut, which had a small bench across the back, just long enough for her to lie on. Suddenly she felt very tired indeed.
‘Goodbye, Kathleen.’
When she turned round Ernest was already crossing the field, and as she watched, he closed the gate and walked away.
She was left alone with her tangled thoughts.
In the end she lay down, using her bundle of clothes as a pillow, and told herself to go to sleep, because she was utterly exhausted. She was glad of the extra clothing now because it kept her warm. She hoped she could make a good impression on this housekeeper Ernest thought so highly of; she hoped she was doing the right thing. Life could be so hard for women on their own if they didn’t have families, so she hadn’t really wanted to run away by herself. Only desperation would have made her do that.
The trouble was, if this Rhoda cared about Ernest so much, she might not like him marrying a girl from an Irish Catholic family. Kathleen had seen the signs outside lodging houses and places offering jobs: ‘No Irish Need Apply’ or ‘No Catholics’. She could never understand why they spurned people like her.
Worrying about the future kept her awake for a while, as did the night noises
, but in the end she could feel herself getting sleepier and gave in to the urge to close her eyes.
In the morning Deirdre Keller unlocked her daughter’s bedroom door and was so shocked to find no one there, she screamed for her husband.
Fergus came running in half-dressed and cursed violently, shoving his wife out of the way to look under the bed as she had already done. ‘I locked that door myself. Was it still locked? You’re sure? Well, then, how the hell can she have got out? There’s only one key.’
On that thought he went to the window and found the catch unlocked. ‘She must have got out this way, damn her.’
‘How could she get down without hurting herself?’
‘Someone must have helped her, brought a ladder.’ He thumped the wall with his fist, then cursed because he’d hurt himself. ‘She’s got a fellow, that’s what, and it’ll be someone we wouldn’t approve of. I told you to get her married off as soon as she turned eighteen.’
She might have known he’d find a way to blame her, Deirdre thought resentfully. ‘But how could she have met someone? She’s either been at work or at home in the daytime and we don’t let her out on her own in the evenings.’
‘She has those breaks in the afternoons, doesn’t come home then, does she? You should have gone and kept her company.’
‘I didn’t have time, Fergus. The housework doesn’t do itself. Anyway, Kathleen goes to the library most days, so I thought she’d be all right there. I’ve seen the books she borrows.’
‘Those sodding books have addled her brain. I should have stopped her borrowing them.’
Deirdre checked the drawers. ‘She’s taken all her clothes with her. She mustn’t intend to come back.’
‘I’ll get her back, just you see, if only to show her who’s master here.’ He kicked the bottom drawer shut and pushed his wife aside, clumping down the stairs. ‘Make yourself useful and put the bloody kettle on, woman.’
She hurried to do his bidding.
‘I’ll make her sorry she crossed me,’ he said several times as he gobbled down his breakfast and drank three cups of hot, sweet tea. ‘Very sorry. You’ll see.’
