by Anna Jacobs
“About Annie? What on earth do you mean? If Annie wants something, she can surely ask me herself!”
“It’s not like that, ma’am. It’s – well – some information has come my way that I thought you ought to know.”
“I hope you’re not going to be wasting my time with spitefulness, Mabel.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. This is something important. I’m sure you’ll want to hear about it.” Mabel felt a thrill of intense pleasure at the thought of how angry Mrs Lewis would be with Annie.
“Then come to the point and tell me, Mabel! I have a lot to do today.”
“I believe Annie Gibson is going to have a baby, ma’am.” There, it was out! And just look at her highness’s red face! She’ll be spitting fury in a minute, thought Mabel gleefully, remembering how angry Mrs Lewis had been with Bet all those years ago.
“What did you say?”
“They – er – they don’t say who the father is, but it’s not her young man, that’s for sure.”
“Her young man?”
“Oh, didn’t you know she was walking out, ma’am?”
“You must be mistaken! I don’t believe you!” Annabelle didn’t want to believe Mabel. For once, she was more than satisfied with a maid. If this news were true, she’d have to dismiss Annie and find someone else. It couldn’t be true!
Mabel smirked. “I think you’ll find that it is true, ma’am. I’ve had my suspicions about her for a while.” The words poured out. It was balm to Mabel’s jealous soul to be able to blacken Annie’s reputation. “She’s been walking out with Matt Peters, Ellie’s brother. And he’s got a way with the girls, they say. He won’t go out with a girl for nothing, won’t take no for an answer.” Might as well lay it on thickly! “But the baby’s not his.”
Annabelle sat staring at the unopened letter in her hand. Could this tale really be true? She drew in a sudden sharp breath. Annie had been very quiet lately, and pale.
“And ma’am, she’s been seen going into Dr Lewis’s rooms. Late at night. On her own.” The voice continued to drip its insidious poison.
The letter was suddenly screwed up in Annabelle’s clenched fist. If Jeremy had been doing that – with her own maids – under her own roof … “That’s enough, Mabel! You did right to tell me what you’d heard, but I’ll attend to the matter myself from now on. Send Annie to me!”
Mabel curtsied and left the room. She found Annie in the kitchen. “You’re wanted upstairs. She’s found out about you know what.” She looked suggestively at the girl’s stomach.
Annie’s face went chalk-white. Without a word she went upstairs, leaving a clamour of voices behind her.
Mrs Lewis looked at the best maid she had ever had and knew from her face that Mabel had been right. “So it is true. You are having a baby! You filthy little slut! After all I’ve done for you!”
Annie flinched. “It’s not like that!” she said desperately. “It wasn’t my fault! Please, ma’am …”
“I don’t want to hear the sordid details. You may pack your things and leave. I do not tolerate immorality in my household!” The thought that Jeremy and this slut had actually dared to gratify their lusts under her roof made her feel physically sick.
“But, ma’am …”
“Did you hear me?”
Annie shrank back as Annabelle’s fury boiled over.
“How dared you behave like that in a respectable household! How dared you! After all my kindness to you! Get out! Get out! Get out!” She was shrieking at the top of her voice. Making love to the master, then laying those same hands on the mistress! Revulsion coursed through her. “One hour! Make sure you’re out within one hour!”
“What about my money, ma’am?” Face pale, but determined, Annie remained where she was. Now that the initial shock of being treated like that was over, she was determined to stand up for her rights.
“Money! You dare to ask for money!” Annabelle’s voice rose to a piercing scream that could be heard all over the house. “Just get out! And be thankful I don’t have you up before the magistrate for immorality.”
Ellie, in Miss Marianne’s rooms, pressed her hand to her mouth. Mabel, in the kitchen, smiled at Susan. Mrs Cosden rattled her pans and muttered under her breath.
Annie stood her ground.
Annabelle continued shrieking at the top of her voice, wanting only to get the girl out of her sight. “It’s not money you need; it’s a sound whipping!”
The door opened and Jeremy came in. “Please keep your voice down, Annabelle. You can be heard all over the house. What on earth is the matter?” He caught sight of Annie. “Oh!”
“You might well say ‘Oh!’” said his wife viciously, her suspicions confirmed, she felt, by his reaction. “How dared you bring a slut like her into a respectable household? Into my house! How dared you?” Her voice was rising again.
“Annie’s not a slut.”
“Well, if you don’t like the word, there are plenty of others to choose from – whore, strumpet, fancy piece. Just take your pick!”
“Annie’s none of those things.”
“It’s all right, sir. It doesn’t matter what she calls me. They’ll call me worse in the Rows. Only I’ve got to have my money, sir. I’ve earned it and – and I need it!” Her voice broke.
He turned to his wife. “How much is owing to Annie?”
“Nothing! One does not pay wages to a servant dismissed for improper conduct.”
“How much is owing, Annie?”
“Two pounds, sir.”
He felt in his pocket. “Here.” He pressed a handful of change on Annie, much more than two pounds and folded her fingers round it when she opened her mouth to protest. Then he turned to his wife. “I’ll deduct that from your next quarter’s housekeeping allowance, Annabelle. We don’t cheat those who work for us.”
Two red spots were burning brightly in Annabelle’s cheeks, but she said nothing. She would not so demean herself as to argue with him in front of the girl.
Annie turned to leave.
“Don’t go yet, Annie,” said Jeremy quietly. “My wife may not wish to know the truth, may not even believe us, but I intend to tell her exactly what happened in January. Sit down in this chair, please.” For once, he was brooking no opposition; for once, Annabelle was not going to ride rough-shod over him.
“It doesn’t matter, sir,” Annie whispered, “really it doesn’t!”
“Oh, yes, it does. My wife obviously believes that you are my mistress.”
Annie gasped aloud at this and sat down. How could people think such things?
“In January,” began Jeremy, “Annie was brutally raped on her way back here.”
Annabelle sniffed disbelievingly. “So she says!”
“I found her in great distress, creeping in through my surgery. As a doctor, and only as a doctor, I examined her! She had been beaten and tied up – oh, yes, the marks of the cords were still on her wrists! – and she had obviously been a virgin when attacked.”
He looked at his wife, willing her to show some sign of relenting from her self-righteous stance, but she just tossed her head. He sighed and continued. “I can’t force you to believe this, Annabelle, but it is none the less the truth and I owe it to Annie to tell you – as I shall tell the other servants. A few days ago Annie came to me because she feared she was pregnant. Unfortunately she is. It seems grossly unfair.”
Annabelle glared at him. “You’re taking her side against me!”
“If you think that I would either bring a mistress into your house or molest one of your servants, then I can only say that it is you who have a filthy mind!”
He stopped and waited for her to say something, but she didn’t speak, merely glared from him to Annie and back. He sighed. Annie had been right. Annabelle would not listen. And the other women with whom she associated would probably be the same. He felt sickened, as he always was by cruelty and injustice.
“Go and pack now, Annie,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry you
’ve been treated like this. If you ever need a reference, you may give my name. If you’re ever in need, come to me.
When the girl had gone, Annabelle, bosom swelling with rage, stood up to leave, too.
“One moment, please,” Jeremy said, his voice cold.
She stood there looking at him resentfully.
“Do you really believe that I took Annie as my mistress?” he asked. “My own wife’s servant! And that I am lying to you now?”
“You took Mary. The fact that she was my servant didn’t stop you then!”
“But you know that Mary didn’t become my mistress until after you had dismissed her.”
“She was a slut as well.”
“Not until you ruined her life for some trivial offence – if there was an offence. I found her starving on the streets.”
“It’s a servant’s place not to give offence,” she stated, and her calm superiority sickened him. “It’s a mistress’s right to dismiss anyone who doesn’t give satisfaction. And, Jeremy Lewis, if you ever speak to me again like that in front of a servant, I will make you rue the day!”
“I already rue the day I met you and I wish that I need never speak to you again as long as I live,” he said wearily and turned to leave her. “What else you do is a matter of indifference to me. But, madam, if you take out your spite on anyone else, Ellie for instance, I shall halve your housekeeping and refuse to pay any more dress bills.”
She watched him leave with murder in her heart, but did nothing to provoke further wrath. It was the servants who felt her anger and who had an extremely uncomfortable week or two, especially Ellie.
Annie packed her things quickly, managed to snatch a hurried word with Ellie, who was distraught and vowing that she would leave, too. Having made her friend promise to do nothing rash, Annie then walked slowly down the stairs. Taking a deep breath she entered the kitchen. She was not going to slink out as if she were ashamed of herself.
Mabel was standing there with a triumphant sneer on her face. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?” she jeered.
Annie ignored her totally. “Goodbye, Mrs Cosden,” she said quietly, “and thank you for all you’ve taught me.”
Mrs Cosden looked at her reproachfully.
“Dr Lewis will confirm,” said Annie, still in a tight, controlled voice, “that I was raped. I wouldn’t like you to think badly of me, Mrs Cosden, though I don’t care what others say.”
The cook muttered something, then turned away.
Mabel stood holding the door open and grinning.
Annie took a deep breath. “I’ll send someone for my box this evening, Mrs Cosden.”
“The sooner the better!” said Mabel.
Annie didn’t go straight back to Salem Street. She couldn’t face it yet. She had thought she would never again have to live in such a place and now she was going back there in disgrace. It would be very hard to bear. It was all very hard to bear. She wished she were dead. She went and sat on one of the new wooden benches in the park, oblivious to the cold wind and equally oblivious to the beauty of the daffodils swaying under the trees.
How had word got round so quickly? That was what she didn’t understand. It wasn’t Dr Lewis, she was sure of that. He wouldn’t tell anyone once he’d given his word. That left Ellie, her dad and Emily, and Matt. It hadn’t been Ellie, and she didn’t think Dad or Emily would have told anyone, either. They knew how much she needed the extra money she could earn. No, she reasoned, working her way through the people who knew, her father would not have told anyone and Emily was as close and secretive as her tightly-pursed mouth. How could her father have married someone like her after Lucy? At the thought of her dead mother, a tear trickled down Annie’s face. Lucy would have stood by her if she’d been alive, stood by her and comforted her. Not offered the grudging help Emily had been forced into. Not turned away from her, like Matt!
Annie tried to tell herself that it was reasonable for Matt not to want another man’s bastard, but the revulsion in his face had hurt her deeply. She’d seen that he couldn’t even bear to touch her, and she, God help her, had longed even then, and still longed now, to feel his arms around her. She should hate him, she told herself fiercely. He was a coward and perhaps worse, for who else could have given her secret away? But she’d loved him for so long that she couldn’t just turn that love off. Her greatest ambition had been to become Matt’s wife. She’d have cooked good meals for him, kept his house clean – for she knew he was almost as fussy as his mother about cleanliness …
She dashed her hand angrily across her eyes. What use was it thinking of such things? That was all over. She must decide what to do now. She didn’t have much choice for the moment. All she could do was pick up her bag and return home to Salem Street. But she wasn’t going to stay there. She wasn’t! She looked up at the grey sky and said it aloud for emphasis. “I won’t stay there!”
Emily’s reception of her was chill and unfriendly. “What are you doin’ here? I thought you were goin’ t’work till it showed?”
“I couldn’t. Someone told Mrs Lewis about it and she turned me off. Did you or Dad tell anyone?”
“What d’ye take us for? Let alone we need the money you could’ve earned, it’s not somethin’ we’d go boastin’ about, is it?”
“What’s our Annie talkin’ about, Mam?” asked May, who’d been sitting quietly in a corner, listening.
“Never you mind!” her mother told her sharply.
“She’s bound to find out,” said Annie. “She might as well hear the truth.”
“Aye, I suppose so.” Emily turned to her daughter and spoke curtly. “Annie got attacked by a man one night an’ she’s goin’ to have a baby from it. She’s just lost her place with Dr Lewis because of it as well, so she’s comin’ back here to live.”
May’s pale, protuberant eyes nearly started out of her head. She opened her mouth to make a comment and her mother told her savagely that she wasn’t to talk about it to anyone, not anyone, or she’d take a belt to her.
“I thought your May went to Granny Marker’s school,” said Annie. “What’s she doing at home? Is she ill?”
Emily flushed. “We – we’ve had a bad patch. We didn’t have the pennies to send her to school.”
“Oh.”
“An’ I don’t know how we’re goin’ t’manage with you here t’feed either, let alone findin’ t’beddin’ for you. We’ve no spare blankets, none at all.”
“I’m sorry, Emily. I really am. I did try to go on working. If it wasn’t you or Dad who let my news out, it must have been Matt Peters. He’s the only other person who knew.”
“What would he want to do that for? He might not want to marry you himself now, but he wouldn’t go an’ do somethin’ like that, surely! I mean – it’s not your fault, is it? It’s not as if you done it on purpose.” Emily shook her head and looked at her stepdaughter with something approaching sympathy.
“No, it’s not my fault, but who’s going to believe that? The doctor spoke up for me to Mrs Lewis, but it made no difference. She still turned me off.”
For the rest of the day Annie helped Emily in the house and Emily had to admit grudgingly that the girl wasn’t afraid of hard work. In fact she threw herself into the cleaning like one possessed. “You sit back and have a rest, Emily. I’ll do this.”
Emily sat back, but she felt resentful. John would be bound to notice the difference.
Later Annie produced a shilling. “I don’t eat much,” she told Emily, “so I reckon three shillings a week should be enough to pay for my food. I’ll give it you every day or two.” If it had been her mother, she’d have tipped all her money out on the table and together they’d have schemed to make it last as long as possible. But you might as well throw money away as give it to Emily. She spent foolishly, even on food, and it was always either feast or famine at Number Three. No wonder Tom refused to hand over all his wages!
Annie had no intention of telling Emily that she had several guin
eas saved. Her money was sewn up in her best petticoat, a trick the nursemaid, Katy, had taught her, and after they’d all gone to bed tonight, she would sew up the money Dr Lewis had given her. Seeing the sudden greed in Emily’s eyes, Annie resolved to wear that money petticoat all the time until she was able to make some proper plans and arrangements.
When John came home, he was deeply upset that Annie had been turned off and said at once that she must now consider this her home. When she told him her suspicions about how the news had got out, he was for going straight along to Number Seven and confronting Matt Peters. With difficulty Annie dissuaded him from doing this and made him promise to leave that to her. After he’d eaten she asked him to go round to Park House for her box. He’d have to borrow Barmy Charlie’s handcart, for it was heavy. “You’ll need sixpence for that,” she said, trying to press it into his hands.
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve done old Charlie a favour or two. If I tell him why we need the cart, he won’t charge me now. You keep your sixpence, love. You’re goin’ to need it. He’s all right, Charlie Ashworth is. An’ he’d not be so barmy if folks left him in peace.”
Only when her father had left did Annie steel herself to go along to Number Seven. “I want to see what he has to say for himself,” she told Emily. There was no need to explain who the ‘he’ was. “I also want to make sure Mr and Mrs Peters know the truth. They’ve been good to me, especially Mr Peters, and Ellie’s still my friend.”
Tom, who’d come in late and who was wolfing down his meal, told her that she was wasting her time. “It’s all round t’Rows that you’re no better than you ought to be,” he told her. “You might as well face up to that an’ find yourself a cosy little nest, like Sally Smith. She’s done all right for herself, an’ you’ve got twice her style.”
His words were cut short by Emily clouting him on the side of the head. “I’ve told you afore that I’ll ’ave no such talk in here!” she shouted. “You godless young devil! As long as you live under my roof, you’ll watch your tongue. We might be poor, but we’re decent folk an’ we don’t talk like that.”
“Aye, well, I won’t be here for much longer!” he shouted back at her. “An’ if you ever try clouting me again, I’ll clout you back, an’ a damn sight harder than you c’n manage, too! Have you told Annie about your little gin bottle yet?”
