Nobody's Child

by Val Wood

  ‘Mrs Topham?’

  She jumped at the voice. She hadn’t heard anyone come up behind her. ‘Mr Ellis, sir.’ She dipped her knee. ‘Didn’t hear you!’

  ‘Are you all right?’ Joseph took off his hat.

  ‘Yes, sir. I’m a bit upset …’

  ‘I heard about your mother. I’m so very sorry. I would have come to the funeral if I’d known.’

  She gazed at him open-mouthed. He was still handsome, she thought, and polite, and he had a kind face, though he always looked sad. Even though he was married. She gave a small inward sigh. Marriage isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

  ‘I wanted to speak to you about Susannah,’ he murmured. ‘Have you got a minute?’

  ‘Yes, sir. She’s at school today.’

  ‘Yes, I’d guessed that she would be.’ His brow creased. ‘That’s why I came now. Your husband’s at work, isn’t he?’

  She nodded. ‘He works for ’Ellises.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ he said patiently. Then he bit on his lip as if considering something. ‘He doesn’t know about Susannah, does he? Whose child she is, I mean?’

  ‘No, sir.’ She looked down at her feet. ‘I’ve never told him, anyway. Ma allus said we hadn’t to discuss her wi’ anybody.’

  ‘But you do know that she’s my child? Look at me, Mrs Topham!’

  Jane lifted her head and gazed at the eyes which were studying her face. There was no wonder that Mary-Ellen had loved him so much. Any woman could. He seemed so strong-willed, yet gentle too. ‘Yes, I know that she is. Mary-Ellen was my best friend as well as my cousin.’ She swallowed hard. Everybody that she cared for had gone. Except for Susannah. ‘I’ll …’ The tears which were so close to the surface began to trickle down her face. ‘I’ll tek care of her, Mr Ellis,’ she blubbered. ‘As best I can, anyway.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said huskily. ‘I’ll make sure the allowance comes to you. And you’ll see that she goes to school? I want the best for her.’

  She lifted her apron and wiped her eyes. How would she get round that? Wilf said Susannah had to go to work. She’d have to pretend that she was going to work, when she was really setting off for school. But what if he found out? They’d maybe both get a beating from him. She nodded. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I don’t understand why we have to keep it a secret from Uncle Wilf. Susannah mulled over the dilemma as she trudged home from school. He’d surely be pleased that I’m going to school. He doesn’t have to pay for it, and I’ll be able to get a better job of work if I can read and write well. And I’m good at arithmetic. The best in school, Miss said.

  Nevertheless, Jane had insisted that Wilf mustn’t find out. But he probably won’t, Susannah thought. He hardly ever comes home. Thank goodness he doesn’t, cos when he comes I always have to go outside. He always has something to talk about to Jane that I shouldn’t hear. And it’s so cold waiting outside. Perhaps if I tell him that I won’t listen, he’ll let me stay in.

  It was her twelfth birthday the following week and she hoped that Thomas would come to see her. He used to sneak home in the evening, but since his mother had died he hadn’t come so often. Also, the weather was worsening for the walk from Skeffling. Wilf Topham borrowed a horse and cart when he came, but then he was a waggoner, not a horse lad like Thomas.

  Susannah was the oldest girl in the school. Most of the boys had left to apply for work at Patrington’s Martinmas hirings fair; the girls who were about her age had also left to look for work, either in domestic service or at Enholmes flax mill.

  The teacher had asked Susannah to help teach the younger children to read and write and do their numbers. She had given her extra books to read at home, and had set her tasks in arithmetical knowledge, computation and science, telling her that if she kept up her schooling she might be able to become a teacher herself. Susannah had told this to Jane who had expressed such astonishment that Susannah was sure that she didn’t believe her.

  She had stayed behind at school to help the teacher clear up, and when she arrived home, later than usual, the horse and waggon were standing outside the cottage. She hesitated, undecided whether or not to go in. Jane had started part time at the mill and told her that Wilf thought Susannah had started work there too. What shall I do? I don’t want to lie, but I might have to.

  She was saved the trouble of deciding as the door opened, and Wilf came out, buttoning up his coat. He looked up when he saw Susannah. ‘Where’ve you been?’ he barked. ‘Working overtime?’

  ‘I – no,’ she said. ‘I’ve been somewhere …’

  He started to question her further about the flax mill and her hours, and she stammered out uncertain replies.

  Jane came to the door. She was flushed about her face and neck. Her hair was mussed up and the buttons on her bodice were undone. She looked as if she had been crying. ‘She’s onny on half time, Wilf,’ she told him. ‘She’s too young for full time.’

  ‘Are you all right, Aunt Jane?’ Susannah asked. ‘You look feverish.’

  Wilf Topham laughed coarsely. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘I’ve give her a fever all right. I’ll give her summat else ’n’ all if she doesn’t watch out.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Susannah was worried. Jane seemed very distressed.

  ‘Is something wrong!’ Wilf mimicked. ‘Where’d you learn to talk like that? Not at ’flax mill, I’ll be bound. Been hanging round wi’ ’gentry, have you?’

  ‘My teacher says we have to talk properly if we’re to go up in ’world,’ Susannah said hesitantly.

  ‘Teacher! What teacher?’ He frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘But you’ve finished at school now. You don’t have to do what ’schoolteacher says.’ He eyed them narrowly, first Susannah and then Jane, cowering in the doorway. ‘Or am I being led up ’garden path?’

  He suddenly lunged at Susannah and dragged her towards the cottage door, flinging her inside so that she crashed into Jane. ‘Get inside, both o’ you. I’ll get to ’bottom o’ this.’ He banged the door behind him. ‘Now then,’ he said to Susannah. ‘Have you been tekken on at ’flax mill or not? Cos if you haven’t …’

  He let the threat hang in the air and Susannah eyed Jane anxiously, not knowing what to say.

  ‘They wouldn’t tek her on, Wilf.’ Jane began to cry. ‘She’s not old enough.’

  ‘Course she is! They’re tekkin’ childre’ on half time.’ He scowled at Susannah. ‘You can still get to school in an afternoon even if you onny work ’mornings.’

  ‘Could I? Should I do that, Aunt Jane?’ Susannah said nervously. ‘Perhaps they’ll take me next week. It’s my birthday then, Uncle Wilf. I’ll be twelve.’

  ‘Uncle Wilf! I’m not your uncle Wilf!’ he roared. ‘I’ll not be saddled wi’ that. You get down to Enholmes’ next week and get fixed up or I’ll want to know ’reason why.’ He scowled again, his brow wrinkled and angry. ‘Will ’parish still pay for her schooling if she’s working? Find out about that, cos I’ll not pay for her.’

  Susannah opened her mouth to say that the parish didn’t pay for her schooling, but some instinct stopped her and Jane said hurriedly, ‘I’ll find out, Wilf. I’ll do it tomorrow.’

  ‘See you do,’ he muttered. Opening the door, he stormed out, leaving the door swinging on its hinges.

  ‘What’ll we do, Aunt Jane?’ Susannah whispered.

  ‘You’ll have to do as he says.’ Jane licked her dry lips. ‘He’ll give me a beating if you don’t, and probably you as well.’

  ‘A beating!’ Susannah gasped. ‘For what?’ She had never had a beating. A smack, yes; both she and Thomas when they used to get into mischief, but never by Uncle Ben, always by Aunt Lol and only with the flat of her hand, never the strap. ‘Has he hit you, Aunt Jane?’

  ‘Aye.’ Jane sat down in a chair and began to sob. ‘Every time he comes – he’s that rough.’

  ‘Why?’ Susannah whispered. ‘What do you do that makes him hit
you?’

  Jane wiped her eyes. ‘It’s for what I don’t do that he hits me.’ She took a deep snuffling breath. ‘I can’t tell you, Susannah. It’s not for a bairn’s ears. I nivver thought that married life could be like this. My da nivver once hit my ma and when I told Wilf that he gave me another clout; he said it was to show me what to expect.’

  Susannah stared at Jane with her lips parted. Why would he do that? Jane was such a quiet woman, and small and thin. It was true that she had rather a whiny sort of voice which could be irritating, but that didn’t warrant a beating. Will he hit me if I don’t go to work? Who can I tell if he does?

  The next day he came back. Jane and Susannah were finishing their supper when they heard the sound of cart wheels outside. Jane stood up and began rubbing her hands together. ‘Why has he come?’ she whispered. ‘Why has he come now?’ She put her hand to her face and Susannah saw the yellow bruise on her cheekbone beneath her fingers.

  But Wilf Topham was all smiles when he came in. ‘Now then,’ he crowed. ‘Is there a cup o’ tea?’

  ‘Yes. Yes.’ Jane scurried about getting out crockery and Susannah swung the kettle back over the fire. ‘And a bit o’ cake if you’d like, Wilf?’ Jane said nervously.

  ‘That’s more like it.’ He sat down in her vacant chair. ‘Have you been to school today, Susannah?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Topham.’ Susannah stood up. ‘We’ve got tests to do next week.’

  ‘Mr Topham!’ he said heartily. ‘I’m not your schoolteacher, you know!’

  ‘What am I to call you, then?’ Susannah murmured. ‘If I’m not to call you uncle?’

  He nodded at her, a sly grin on his face. ‘Well, it’s a bit of a dilemma, isn’t it? You could just call me Wilf, I suppose, cos I’m not your proper uncle and not even a proper relation.’

  Susannah swallowed and tried to remain calm. Something must have happened to put him in this strange humour.

  Jane added more hot water into the teapot and poured him a cup of tea. It was weak but he didn’t seem to notice. He blew on it and slurped. ‘I’ve been having a natter wi’ Daniel,’ he said casually. ‘Aye. We get on right well, me and Daniel. Been telling me a thing or two, he has.’ He looked up at Susannah. ‘About school ’n’ that. And who pays for it!’

  ‘It’s not a secret,’ Susannah said boldly. ‘Mrs Ellis pays for it. She paid for Thomas as well. It’s cos they’re rich that they pay for poor children to go to school.’

  Wilf frowned. ‘Dan didn’t say they’d paid for Thomas. Onny you.’

  Susannah shook her head. ‘Both of us.’

  ‘Well, that don’t matter,’ he said, pushing back the chair and getting to his feet. ‘What’s odd is that ’parish would’ve paid for you, so why does Mrs Ellis?’

  ‘It’s cos Susannah doesn’t have no ma or da,’ Jane broke in. ‘She’s a norphan.’

  He scowled at Jane. ‘All ’more reason for ’parish to pay. And how is this money paid out? Does it go straight to school? Or …’ He gave a malicious grin as if he already knew the answer, and grabbed hold of Jane’s wrist. ‘Does it come ’ere? Does Mrs Ellis send it to you?’

  ‘To my ma,’ Jane gasped. ‘It was allus sent to my ma. I don’t know what’ll happen now,’ she lied.

  ‘It’ll come ’ere!’ He wagged a threatening finger at her. ‘To you! They’ll know your ma’s no longer wi’ you. And when it does, you’ll tell me, do you hear? I’ll see that it’s paid out to ’school – if I’ve a mind to, that is.’ He tightened his grip on her wrist and twisted it until she shrieked out in pain. ‘That’s for not telling me,’ he snarled into her face. ‘For letting me think that ’parish paid for her.’

  ‘Don’t do that!’ Susannah grasped his hand to shake it off Jane. ‘You’re hurting her!’

  He turned swiftly, dropping Jane’s wrist and grabbing Susannah’s. ‘Hurtin’ her, am I?’ He squeezed her wrist, nipping her flesh with his fingernails. ‘Like that, is it? Does that hurt?’

  Susannah screamed. ‘Stop it! Stop it!’

  He stopped immediately and swung a slap to her face, making her stagger and fall. Then he turned to Jane. ‘That’s a taste of what you’ll both get if I have any bother from either of you. Now listen to me. She goes to ’flax mill next week when she’s turned twelve. You both go full time and I want to see your wages. We’ll not bother tellin’ her up at ’big house that she’s finished school; she’ll be none ’wiser unless somebody tells.’ He glared menacingly. ‘And if anybody should …’

  Jane was speechless and looked completely terrified. Susannah dropped into a chair and wiped her streaming eyes, for the slap had been hard and made her eyes water. What would he do? she wondered. Would he kill them? But then, she pondered, he would lose his job and the money for her schooling. He hasn’t got much sense. Doesn’t he realize that my teacher will want to know where I am? Then she had the sudden thought that this term would already be paid for. Perhaps her teacher would think that she wasn’t coming back for the new term after Christmas. Wilf Topham would be able to keep the money and Mrs Ellis wouldn’t know. She never came to the house or the school. Susannah bit on her thumb. I don’t even know when she sends it, or who with.

  ‘Is that clear?’ he bellowed at Susannah. ‘Are you listening to what I say?’

  ‘Yes,’ she muttered. ‘I heard you.’

  Susannah went with Jane to apply for work at the flax mill the following week. The road from Welwick to Patrington was poor, with deep muddy ruts made by waggon wheels, and the rain was sleeting down. They had put on clean white bonnets and aprons, but their boots and shawls were soaking wet by the time they arrived.

  ‘How old are you?’ the mill foreman asked Susannah.

  ‘Just turned twelve,’ she stated. ‘And I’d like to work full time.’ Then she added, ‘I can read and write. Could I work in the office?’

  He grinned. ‘A lady clerk? I’ll have to ask ’boss about that. Fancy yourself a cut above workin’ in ’mill, do you?’

  ‘No,’ she hastened to say. ‘But it seems a waste if I don’t use my education.’

  ‘Ooh!’ he said caustically. ‘Hark at her! What about you?’ he asked Jane. ‘Where would milady like to work?’

  ‘Anywhere,’ Jane said. ‘I’ve signed on for part time already. I don’t mind what I do.’

  ‘Well you can go in ’drying room,’ he said. ‘In summer we dry outside, but in winter, or when it’s wet, ’flax has to come inside and somebody has to keep on turning it. When it’s dried it goes for dressing – broken and scutched,’ he said. ‘’Men do that usually. You’d not like that. ’Dust gets up your nose.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ Jane said dully. ‘Owt you like.’

  ‘All right.’ He glanced at Susannah. ‘Start tomorrow, six o’clock sharp, and I’ll ask if there’s a place in ’office for you. Don’t you want to come half time if you’re onny twelve?’

  She told him no, that she had to work full time and that she was finished with school. As they tramped back home Susannah reflected how different things were now that Aunt Lol was gone. She remembered last year when, on the day before her birthday, she had made a cake for her and Thomas. This year Thomas hadn’t even come to see her. We always shared our birthdays, she mused, and last year young Mr Ellis came to see Aunt Lol, and he gave me a sovereign and Thomas a shilling. Where is it, I wonder? She narrowed her eyes in concentration. Where would Aunt Lol have put it to keep it safe? She said it was mine, for when I needed it.

  She asked Jane later if she knew where it was, but Jane knew nothing about it. She was unusually quiet and said little. After they had eaten their supper, Susannah asked if she could look in Jane’s room. It had formerly been the family bedroom and then Aunt Lol’s and was now Jane’s. Susannah still slept in her own bed in the kitchen.

  She looked first under the bed; there was a box there which was covered in dust but in it there was only an old fustian sheet to be used for cutting up for dusters, a flannel shirt which had belonged t
o Ben, and a skirt and worn bonnet which had been Aunt Lol’s. Then she lifted the lid of a wooden chest which had been Ben’s when he was a farm lad, and underneath a woollen blanket she found a crocheted purse and, in it, the sovereign.

  ‘I’ve found it, Aunt Jane,’ she called excitedly. ‘Aunt Lol had been keeping it safe.’ Smiling, she went back into the kitchen clutching the precious coin.

  ‘Found what?’

  Her smile vanished when she saw Wilf Topham standing there. ‘Nothing,’ she said, putting her hand behind her back.

  He signalled with his finger for her to come near. ‘Must be summat,’ he said softly. ‘You look like ’cat what’s got ’cream. Come on! Show me.’

  ‘It’s mine,’ she said tearfully, reluctantly opening her hand. ‘It was a birthday present and Aunt Lol kept it for me.’

  ‘Did she?’ He roughly prised her fingers open as she tried to close them over the coin. He felt the weight of the sovereign in his palm and whistled; then, grinning, he tossed it up in the air where it spun, twisting and glistening. He caught it and gently cast it about in his hand. ‘Well, I’ll keep it for you now.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The next morning Susannah and Jane were halfway between Welwick and Patrington when they were caught up by a horse and waggon. ‘Want a lift?’ the driver called out and eagerly they ran towards it.

  ‘Hey up, Jane! Where ’you off to?’

  ‘Patrington.’ Jane climbed into the waggon. ‘We’re starting work at Enholmes mill. This is Susannah. You know – Mary-Ellen’s daughter.’

  Susannah climbed in after Jane. ‘This is Jack Terrison,’ Jane told her. ‘He works at Ellis’s.’

  ‘Did you know my mother?’ Susannah asked. No-one ever really spoke about her. Aunt Lol had said that she was beautiful to look at, with dark hair and bluey-green eyes. But it was as if her life had been forgotten.

  ‘Aye, I did,’ he muttered. ‘We were at school at ’same time. I used to see her about now and again.’