‘She is going to have a baby.’ Mrs Burns stared at Maud. ‘And the police need to ask you some questions.’
Cora’s chin went up a notch. ‘Where’s Enid now?’
Her voice had been abrupt and for a moment it appeared as though Mrs Burns had taken umbrage. Then she swallowed and with obvious effort spoke calmly. ‘Enid has been taken to a home where she will stay until she has the baby. She is refusing to name the – the father.’ Again her eyes rested on Maud for a moment. ‘But obviously it is a boy from round here so the police need to know if she has confided in you.’
Cora stared at Mrs Burns. She didn’t think she had hated anyone as much as she hated the farmer’s wife at this moment. Not even Hitler. He was evil and killing people right, left and centre, but this was a different sort of badness and it was directly in front of her. ‘It might not be a boy,’ she said harshly.
There was a second’s pause, and then Mrs Burns’s back straightened and her voice took on a steely quality. ‘The police aren’t interested in “might”s, girl, but facts. Do you understand me? Folk can get into a lot of unpleasantness with “might”s, unpleasantness that could cause them to be taken away and put somewhere else, away from everyone they know. Your mother asked you to look after your sisters, didn’t she? So think on. Facts, girl.’
Cora knew she was glaring at the farmer’s wife; she couldn’t help herself. She turned to Maud who had tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Enid spoke to you, told you things, I know she did,’ she said urgently. ‘She’s your sister, Maud, and they’re going to say she’s bad if you don’t speak up about what you know. And Enid isn’t bad, we all know that.’
Rachel Burns took a step towards Cora before checking herself. She would have liked nothing more than to shake the girl until her teeth rattled, but now was not the time to lose her temper. Gossip spread like wildfire, and if Bernard was tainted with it all the folk who had been jealous of a nobody like her becoming the wife of a well-to-do farmer would make sure the mud stuck till their dying day. Oh, she knew how people were, and the old school friends and her cousins and family who still lived hereabouts would be the worst. They might smile and nod and show deference now to her position in the community, but once the knives were out it’d be a different story. She didn’t doubt that nothing could be proven even if Enid named Bernard; he would deny it and his friends and associates would back him rather than a bit of a girl whose father was in prison. They knew which side their bread was buttered and the stuff that Bernard slipped them every month wasn’t to be sneezed at in this time of rationing. No, Bernard would get away with it all right, but the common folk, the people she saw now and again, would make her life miserable.
Her voice icy cold, she now directed her gaze to Maud. ‘No one is saying Enid is bad,’ she said stiffly, ‘merely that she was taken advantage of by some lad still wet behind the ears or even a passing vagrant. There was a tramp sleeping under the bridge down by the river for some weeks; he was at the kitchen door a few times asking for bread and cheese. Do you remember?’
Maud gulped and tried to speak but choked on her tears.
‘Do you remember?’
‘Don’t shout at her.’ Cora’s brown eyes were fiery as though they were reflecting the red of her hair, and her hands were clenched into fists at her side. ‘Don’t you bully her.’
‘Don’t talk to me like that, madam.’
Rachel Burns glanced at Cora but what she read in the girl’s face deterred her from continuing down that line. Instead, her voice took on a conciliatory note as she looked at Maud again. ‘Don’t get all het up, lass. No more crying, now then. I was just saying that when the police ask you questions there’s always that tramp to remember, along with any lads Enid knew at school. Girls like to flirt and carry on a little, it’s natural, nothing wrong in that, but lads take it too far sometimes. Force the issue. Anyway –’ her voice became brisk – ‘sit yourselves down, the lot of you, and I’ll get the mid-morning snack while we wait for the police to call you in. It’ll be one at a time and I doubt they’ll want to see Anna and Susan, just you older three. But think on about what I’ve said, all of it.’
Maud sat down at the table with her eyes on the oiled tablecloth. Maria glanced helplessly at Cora, tears welling. She was clearly shocked and scared, and Cora placed her hand on her sister’s. She would have liked to reassure Maria that all would be well and the truth would out, but suddenly she didn’t believe that. It seemed to her that Farmer Burns could do whatever he liked. Enid was clearly so afraid of him that she would not name him as the father of her child, and however little or however much she had told Maud, Maud was going to say nothing.
Cora bit hard on her lower lip. Her mother had sent them away. She didn’t care about them any more or she would have come to see them and make sure they were all right, or at least have written every week. She had forgotten about them, and so had everyone else in Sunderland. They were on their own and the only person she could rely on was herself. Maria and the two little ones and even Maud had no one to protect them but her, and she couldn’t afford to be sent away somewhere else as a punishment for speaking out her suspicions about Farmer Burns. Mrs Burns wasn’t going to help them. No one was. Maud and Enid’s mother couldn’t even read and write, Maud had told them that, and worked long hours in a shirt factory just to pay the rent. She would be no match for Farmer Burns and his powerful friends.
Mrs Burns placed a glass of milk and a wedge of stottie cake still warm from the oven in front of each of them. Anna and Susan tucked in immediately, and after a moment Cora and the others followed suit. Cora’s stomach was churning and she was sure Maria and Maud’s were too, but what could she do?
A thought occurred to her and she looked the farmer’s wife straight in the face. ‘Maud’s going to sleep in our room from now on.’ It was a declaration, not a request. ‘And when we clean the farmhouse we’ll be doing it in twos with the other one staying with Anna and Susan.’ There had been the odd occasion when she’d thought back that Enid had returned tearful and upset from her Saturday stint. Cora pictured Farmer Burns’s room and the big bed and the smell and she shuddered.
Rachel Burns recognized a trade-off when she heard it. Her eyelids blinked. If she agreed to this it would be tantamount to admitting she knew of her husband’s guilt, but she was in no position to argue. And in truth part of her had no wish to. If Cora could keep herself and the others out of Bernard’s reach, it would bode well for the future. He could take himself off elsewhere for his depraved practices, rather than fouling his own doorstep. She could feel the colour hot on her cheeks but aimed to retain some semblance of dignity as she said, ‘As long as the work gets done it’s no odds to me how you arrange it amongst yourselves.’
As she spoke the kitchen door opened and Farmer Burns stood there, his bullet eyes moving over them. ‘You.’ He pointed at Maud. ‘Follow me.’
Maud cast an agonized glance at Cora before standing up and doing as she was told.
When the door closed, Cora drew in a deep breath. ‘Is he staying in the room while the police ask their questions?’ When the farmer’s wife didn’t immediately reply, she said again, ‘Is he? Is he going to be there?’
‘I believe so.’
‘I shall say I don’t want him in the room.’
She watched Mrs Burns sigh and shake her head slightly. ‘While you live here with us we’re standing in for your parents.’
‘I don’t care. I don’t want him listening.’
‘What you want is neither here nor there, I’m afraid. The police will expect him to stay and if you cause a fuss it will rebound on you and your sisters, he’ll make sure of that.’
Cora was near to tears but she knew she must not show it. And now there rose in her an anger that enabled her to blink them away and straighten her back, but her fury wasn’t directed towards Mrs Burns, nor the police, not even Farmer Burns. It was her mother she was angry with, and in that moment she told herself she would nev
er write to her again. Her mam didn’t care about them – well, that was fine. She didn’t care about her either. Her mam had abandoned them here, left them at the mercy of strangers she’d never met, and forgotten all about them. She was as bad as Wilfred’s mother; worse, because her mam had pretended to love them. She hated her. Cora’s full mouth pulled tight. She’d never forgive her for this.
It was a few minutes before Maud came back and she was ashen white. Farmer Burns beckoned to Cora. ‘Come on.’ Once in the corridor leading to the main house, he walked in front of her, the smell of him causing her nostrils to flare with distaste. He opened the door into the hall and stood aside for her to pass him, his voice threatening as he murmured, ‘Watch your Ps and Qs, girl. None of your lip,’ before again walking ahead of her and flinging open the door into the parlour where the two police officers were sitting.
Cora noticed three half-full glasses and a bottle of whisky on the low table in front of the two men who were sitting on a sofa, and as Farmer Burns sat down in a chair at the side of them, he took one of the glasses and drained it.
Cora stood in front of the three men. No one suggested she sit down and she stared at the two policemen, determined not to show how frightened she felt. After a moment or two, one of the policemen said, ‘I’m Inspector Shaw and this is my colleague, Sergeant Irvin. I understand your name is Cora Stubbs, is that right? You’re an evacuee from Sunderland?’
She nodded.
‘And you’re here with your three sisters?’
Again she inclined her head.
‘You’re most fortunate.’ The inspector smiled. ‘There’s not many folk who would have taken four sisters so that you could all stay together. You’re the eldest, I understand? And you’re fourteen years of age?’
‘Yes.’ Fortunate? she thought. Did he really have no idea?
‘Do you understand why we need to ask you a few questions today, Cora? Questions that you need to answer truthfully.’
‘It’s because Enid is expecting a baby.’
‘Quite. Unfortunate business, most unfortunate. Now, Enid’s sister mentioned a man, a vagrant, who hung around these parts for a while some time ago in the spring. Do you remember such a person coming to the farm asking for food? I understand he requested that he be allowed to sleep in one of the barns, a request Farmer Burns wisely refused. Do you know if Enid talked to this man? Did you see them together?’
‘No.’ She looked at the farmer for a moment. ‘Definitely not.’
‘Did Enid ever mention him? Or a boy perhaps? One of the lads from hereabouts?’
‘Enid would never have had anything to do with a vagrant and she didn’t have a lad.’
‘Are you sure about that, Cora? Think carefully before you answer. Are you absolutely sure Enid wasn’t meeting a lad on the quiet?’ It was the sergeant who had spoken.
‘I’m sure. Enid wasn’t – wasn’t like that.’
‘Hm.’ The inspector had kept his eyes trained on her and now he finished his whisky; Farmer Burns immediately refilling the glass. ‘And you were close, were you? Best friends?’
‘We were friends, yes, but Enid was—’
‘What?’
‘Shy, quiet.’
‘Not shy enough, it seems,’ said the inspector in an aside to his sergeant who gave a smirk in reply.
Cora glared at the policemen. They were making Enid out to be bad, that this was somehow partly her fault. ‘Enid’s a nice girl,’ she said hotly. ‘She would never have done anything like this if she hadn’t been forced.’
Ignoring her, the inspector turned to Farmer Burns. ‘And the father’s in prison, you say?’ he murmured. ‘And the mother is illiterate? Dear, dear. We open up our homes to all and sundry and this is the result. The war’s got a lot to answer for, if you ask me.’
Cora felt sick. They had made up their minds; whatever she said they would believe Farmer Burns over her. Involuntarily her gaze went to his face. His expression was deadpan but something in the depths of his eyes caused her stomach to jolt. He was enjoying this, she thought with horror. Taking some weird satisfaction in proving how influential and untouchable he was. Showing her how he was fooling the police. He knew she knew about him and Enid.
‘Enid talked to Maud, I know she did,’ she said desperately.
‘How do you know? Did you hear them? Has the sister told you what happened?’ The inspector’s voice was sharper.
Cora shook her head. ‘I think Enid told Maud not to say anything, but I know Enid’s been unhappy and upset since we came to the farm.’
The inspector turned to Farmer Burns again. ‘That tallies with what you and Mrs Burns have told me about the girl not really settling. With her state of mind and her background it’s highly possible she was reverting to type, if you get my meaning. In my job we see the seedier side of life and –’ he lowered his voice but Cora could still hear him as he whispered – ‘they start young in the slums.’
Without looking at her again, the inspector said, ‘Thank you, Cora. You can go now,’ as he wrote something in his notebook. ‘Send your sister along, would you.’
She stood quite still for a moment, a sense of utter helplessness making her feel very small as though she was shrinking, reducing to nothing. It was a frightening feeling, something alien to her bold spirit and therefore all the more terrifying.
She didn’t glance Farmer Burns’s way but she knew his eyes were on her and it was this that stopped her from crumpling. Her back straight and her chin high, she swung round and left the room, and again it was his footsteps behind her that enabled her to march along the passageway and into the kitchen where Mrs Burns and the others were still seated at the kitchen table. ‘They want you,’ she said to Maria, amazed that her voice sounded almost normal, and as her sister walked past her she reached out and squeezed Maria’s arm. ‘Chin up,’ she said softly.
Farmer Burns remained standing in the doorway for a full ten seconds, staring at her after Maria had left, and then without a word he turned and walked back along the passageway. Mrs Burns glanced at her. ‘You and Maud’d better wait in the house for now in case there’s further questions, but you needn’t be idle. Get yourselves into the scullery and start on them pots and pans in the sink. I’ll call if you’re wanted.’
She had placed two baskets containing cheese and butter and cream on the table as Cora had walked in, and now she spoke to Anna and Susan. ‘Go and collect the eggs from the hen house. Farmer Burns has promised them both a few bits before they leave.’ She looked full at Cora then; the unspoken message clear before she turned away.
Cora stared back, sickened. So justice for Enid was to be sacrificed for a couple of baskets of food? She watched as the farmer’s wife wrapped some thick rashers of bacon in greaseproof paper and added them to the baskets. Without looking up, Mrs Burns said, ‘What are you two still doing in here? The pots won’t clean themselves.’
Maud was silently crying as they walked into the scullery, and once Mrs Burns was out of earshot, she whispered, ‘I couldn’t say about Enid, Cora. I couldn’t. Enid made me promise on our mam’s life. And he said he’d kill her if she told, me an’ all, and he would, Cora. He drowned one of the farm cats in the water barrel to show Enid what he’d do to us if she let on. He made her watch and she was sick after and he laughed.’
Cora put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.
‘He made her do things to him at first when we came here – he’d come up to our room at night and take her in the room you have now. Enid made me pretend to be asleep so he didn’t start on me. But then he’d make her do things in the day an’ all if he got her alone, and one day she came back from feeding the calves and there was blood on her legs and she was crying. She said he’d put his – you know what –’ she paused – ‘inside her and she could hardly walk. It – it was awful.’
Maud wiped her face with her sleeve. ‘After that she wouldn’t talk about it but he carried on. I know that. I’m – I’m scared, Cora.’
Cora rubbed her lips, her head spinning. It was useless to try and persuade Maud to talk to the police and even if she did would it accomplish anything? She thought of how the inspector and sergeant had been and knew the answer. But he mustn’t be allowed to hurt Maria or Maud or the little ones. Very quietly, she said, ‘Listen, Maud. From now on none of us must be on our own here, all right? You or Maria or me must always be with Anna and Susan, and the other two must be together. No matter what he says or what Mrs Burns says, we must do that. She’s agreed you can come into our room and that’ll start tonight.’
Maud nodded, her face a picture of misery.
‘It’ll be all right if we stick together. If he knows we’re not going to give him a chance to do anything, he’ll give up. And Mrs Burns knows now, I’m sure she does.’ Cora picked up one of the small kitchen knives out of the sink and ran the blade carefully along her finger. Slipping it into the pocket of the thick linen smock they wore over their clothes at the farm, she offered another one to Maud. ‘If he tries anything, use this,’ she said grimly. ‘It’d be enough to keep him off you.’
Maud backed away, eyes wide. ‘I couldn’t.’
‘Well, I could.’
They stared at each other for a moment and then began the task of scrubbing the pots and pans from the meal the night before. After a few minutes, Maud whispered, ‘What will happen to Enid now?’
‘I don’t know.’ Cora thought of the small plump girl with the eyes of a wounded doe, and her stomach contracted. But one thing she did know was that she wouldn’t let Farmer Burns hurt another one of them, no matter what she had to do to keep them safe.
Chapter Seven
Jed stared at Cora. Her face was drained of colour like a piece of bleached calico. There was no doubt she’d meant every word she’d just said; the little knife she’d shown him was proof of it. He didn’t like to say a small thing like that would be no defence against the big burly farmer; if it gave her some peace of mind so be it. When she’d spoken of her suspicions before, even though he’d suggested that Farmer Burns might be trying it on with the girl, he’d never seriously thought . . . ‘And Enid’s been sent away?’ A baby, at her age. Her life was ruined.
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