Flowers on the Mersey

by June Francis

‘Lied to you about what?’ He started forward.

  ‘Daniel! You cheated, and cheats never prosper!’ She put her hands to hot cheeks. ‘This is crazy!’

  ‘No!’ Suddenly his face loomed in front of her, large and grotesque. ‘It’s you that’s crazy and I know just the place for you. Only the best asylum for my wife, so it’s expensive. If you’re good I’ll probably let you out in a few months’ time. By that time your son will have been put up for adoption.’

  ‘Adoption!’ Horror seemed to be paralysing Rebekah’s limbs but she managed to fling the cup at him. It hit him on the forehead and then smashed in the fireplace.

  ‘Violence now.’ He smiled and tutted. She threw the saucer at his now double image, saw him sidestep before it, too, shattered into pieces. The last words she heard him speak seemed to freeze her mind. ‘I think I’ll tell the man to bring a straight jacket for you. We didn’t need one for poor Emma.’

  ‘She’s coming round.’ It was a voice Rebekah did not recognise.

  She lifted heavy lids and stared up at Joshua and the stranger. ‘There now, Mrs Green, you’re all right,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘David! Where’s David? He said—’ Rebekah sat up abruptly. ‘Who are you?’ She realised that she was lying on top of the bed in the room upstairs. ‘Why am I here? Have you taken David away?’ she said unsteadily.

  ‘I’m Doctor Gail, and you fainted.’

  ‘I never faint. He must have put something in my tea. My baby!’ Her voice broke on a sob. ‘Where’s my baby?’

  The two men exchanged glances and Joshua said in sober tones, ‘See what I mean, Doctor, she won’t accept the truth.’

  Rebekah’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. ‘You don’t know the meaning of truth! Where’s Doctor Michaels?’

  ‘Michaels is away,’ said Doctor Gail. ‘I’m standing in for him.’ He sat on the chair beside the bed and took Rebekah’s hand. ‘My dear Mrs Green, I’m sorry but your baby is dead.’

  ‘No!’ She stared at Joshua. ‘My husband stole David from me, to punish me.’

  The heavy features of the doctor were sorrowful, ‘I’ve seen your baby. Believe me, he’s dead.’

  Rebekah had thought she could not feel any worse but she did. ‘I don’t believe it.’ Her mouth quivered. ‘Let me see the body.’

  ‘Certainly, Mrs Green, but are you sure this is wise?’ His expression was sympathetic. ‘It will upset you.’

  Rebekah started to wonder if she was going mad. Surely she could not have imagined what had happened between her and Joshua downstairs? She darted a glance at her husband.

  ‘My sweet, you can see the body if you like,’ he said gently.

  His words scared her but she slid off the bed, unaided.

  Joshua attempted to take her elbow but she pushed him away. ‘Show me this baby.’

  Joshua shrugged and led the way downstairs. Rebekah followed, accompanied by a grave-faced Doctor Gail. At first sight of the baby in the tiny coffin, Rebekah felt faint. Had her husband killed her son? It was a few moments before she dared take a closer look. ‘That’s not David,’ she stated in a relieved voice. ‘This baby has fair hair. My husband is trying to trick you.’

  ‘My dear Mrs Green, why should he do that? You’re overwrought.’ Doctor Gail put his arm about her shoulders. ‘The maid said it’s your baby and he’s got a look of your husband. Grief has affected your mind and so you refuse to accept the truth.’

  Rebekah shrugged off his arm and turned on him. ‘How could that maid know? She’s never seen my baby! Find Janet or nurse! They’d tell you I’m telling the truth.’ She saw that he did not believe her, and despaired. She slammed a hand down on the side of the coffin. ‘I don’t know where my husband found this child but it is not mine! It is not mine!’

  ‘Calm down, dear,’ said Joshua in a soothing voice. ‘You’re getting hysterical.’

  ‘If I am, you’re to blame!’ She stared at him with wild eyes. ‘Where is David? You told me an orphanage! Which orphanage?’

  ‘I told you nothing of the sort. My dear, you’re starting to imagine things.’

  Rebekah’s fists clenched and she tried to gain control of the anger and fear that was rising, rising, threatening to choke her. ‘I am not! You’re doing this deliberately, Joshua. You want me to suffer. You want to drive me mad.’

  ‘My love, why should I do that?’ His voice had that velvety note that she knew so well. ‘I love you. I loved our son. Don’t you think I’m upset because David’s gone?’

  ‘No! No!’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘You didn’t love him and you’ve never really loved me. You don’t want people you love hurt. Where is David? Where is my son?’ On the last two words something snapped inside her and she flew at Joshua, hitting out at him with flailing fists. She wanted to smash his smirking face until there was nothing more of him left. He called the doctor and then she was struggling with both of them. Joshua held her face down on the floor. She felt a stabbing pain in her arm and then was swimming through cotton wool.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ‘It’s quite a nice place. I’m sure you’ll settle,’ said Joshua in conversational tones.

  Rebekah made no reply but attempted to free herself from the straitjacket.

  ‘Emma was quite happy here,’ he continued. ‘The doctor’s changed but this one seems quite decent. You’ll have lots of sea air … nice grounds to wander round once you calm down. You can play tennis. There’s a few books and a chapel. You’ll be able to confess your sins to Almighty God and perhaps find forgiveness.’ He smiled at her and began to peel an orange from the dish on the cream-painted bedside cabinet. ‘See, I’m not all bad. I’ve told them you’re to have this private room for a few days – it’s costing me a fortune but they would expect it from a man of my position. Then you can go into a general ward. I told them you’d probably like company.’

  ‘I don’t want company. I want to get out of here! I want my son.’ Her voice shook.

  ‘I notice you always say your son, never our son!’ His hand tightened on the orange, and juice and flesh oozed between his fingers.

  She tried to get a grip on herself and eased her dry throat and tried a different tack. ‘Where did you get the baby from?’

  ‘Baby? What baby?’

  ‘You don’t have to pretend with me, Joshua.’ Her voice was controlled. ‘You’ve been very crafty but you can tell me the truth.’

  There was a silence while he took out a handkerchief and wiped his hand as she waited impatiently for an answer. ‘You can get anything if you’re willing to pay for it. The mother was unmarried. I have influence in certain circles.’

  ‘And where’s David?’ she said quietly.

  ‘He became the dead baby, but I’m not going to tell you what its name was or where he is.’ He leant back in the chair with his legs stretched out before him. ‘If you knew it would make it easier for you. Not knowing is always so much harder to bear. And the fact that you can’t do anything makes it even better.’

  Rebekah despaired. ‘You’re evil! Evil!’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘My dear, it’s you who committed adultery, remember?’ He leant over and patted her cheek. ‘I won’t be seeing you for a couple of weeks. So sweet dreams until then.’ And getting up, he left the room.

  Rebekah wanted to scream and go on screaming. Her aching breasts were a reminder that somewhere someone else was feeding her son. She had known that Joshua would do something terrible if he ever guessed about her and Daniel, but never anything like this. But at least David was alive. Joshua had not killed him. If only she could get out of this place.

  ‘There now, dear. Are you going to be good?’ A buxom middle-aged attendant came in. Her companion, a fresh-faced young girl, smiled in a friendly fashion but Rebekah was too miserable, and also in too much pain, to care.

  ‘My baby. My breasts hurt.’

  ‘Poor lamb. He’s in heaven now and as happy as Larry,’ said the older attendant. ‘You must accept Go
d’s will. There’ll be other babies.’

  ‘My baby isn’t dead,’ said Rebekah emphatically. ‘And my breasts hurt because of the milk.’

  ‘I know nothing about that,’ said the woman. ‘Never been married.’

  ‘I do,’ said the young girl in a slight Liverpudlian accent. ‘My sister had milk fever. Perhaps Mrs Green has it.’

  The woman sniffed. ‘Have to get one of the nurses. You go, Ada.’

  The girl went and returned with a nurse, who ordered the straightjacket taken off and examined Rebekah’s breasts. She told her to express the milk herself and that would give her ease. The straightjacket was to stay off, but of course if she were to get violent again –

  Rebekah turned her back on them and wept. They left the room, locking the door.

  The next couple of days passed in a peculiar haze. A different doctor visited Rebekah and asked questions which she responded to by telling him that David was alive and in some Orphanage where her husband had put him. He spoke to her in a soothing voice, asking why he should do that? She hesitated to tell him, knowing the truth would probably make them side with Joshua. Her nerves grew so taut that she threw an orange at the doctor. He dodged it expertly and told the nurse to give her cold showers.

  Rebekah hated the showers which seemed to numb her brain. She felt trapped as if on a bridge of barbed wire with a waterfall beneath, waiting to sweep her sanity away. Perhaps David really was dead and she was mad? Her thoughts raced like scampering squirrels, causing her to press her hands to her head in an attempt to stop them. She yearned for her baby, and desperately needed Daniel. The war was over. Perhaps he would come. If he still cared. If Brigid could get news about her being missing to him through his cousins. If – if – if! She wondered what Brigid had thought when she had not returned, and whether Joshua had told her aunt that David was supposedly dead. Dead! No, she did not believe he was dead as they all kept saying. Even though perhaps life would be easier for her if she said that she did believe it. But she could not accept that. Somewhere he was alive and she had to hold on to that thought. To get out and find him.

  Rebekah was moved into one of the four general wards, which gave her something else to worry about. Fortunately men and women were kept separate but nearly all the other women patients were older than she, and preconceived ideas of lunacy filled her mind as she watched one approaching.

  The woman stared at her, her tongue lolling on her chin like an overheated dog. She asked Rebekah what her name was. She answered in a flat tone and a minute later the woman repeated her question. This went on, interspersed by the singing of hymns and the cackling of laughter, hour after hour. It was maddening.

  There was a woman who believed herself to be Queen Victoria, and gave Rebekah orders. ‘Fetch me a cushion and be quick about it.’ When she did not obey, the woman pushed her. ‘Do as you are told, girl. I don’t find your behaviour funny. Albert will see to it that you are punished.’ Rebekah moved away but the woman followed her, repeating the order. In the end Rebekah pretended to do whatever she asked, even if it meant pouring out invisible tea and handing a cup to her. This, strangely, seemed to pacify her.

  There were several younger women who suffered fits. At first these were frightening but Rebekah soon learnt that they were not to be feared and that the orderlies knew how to handle them, without anyone coming to harm. A couple of women of about her own age were suffering from melancholia, so the young Liverpudlian orderly told her. ‘It’s due to the war,’ she said with concern. ‘Poor things. They sunk so low into the doldrums that they haven’t been able to drag themselves up again.’

  Rebekah knew just how they felt. She was having difficulty keeping hope alive. She would never get out and would go mad, like those patients who never met her gaze but directed their conversations to an invisible someone behind her. They became angry when nobody answered them, or they were given wrong answers by real people, and got violent. They went missing for a few days then. She admitted her fears to the young orderly. ‘I’m frightened of going mad.’

  ‘Well, if you’re only going, then you’re not there,’ said the girl in bracing tones.

  Her words brought a smile to Rebekah’s face. ‘I’m on the edge. Do you think people can drive you mad?’

  ‘Me mam was always saying that we drove her mad.’

  ‘You live with your mam?’

  The girl shook her head. ‘I have a room in the village. It’s nice and I enjoy having a room to meself.’

  Rebekah forced herself to show interest. ‘You have brothers and sisters?’

  Ada nodded. ‘You remind me of one of them. My sister who had milk fever. She was really strange for a while after losing Tommy, her baby. It was the midwife’s fault. She came from a sickbed and didn’t wash her hands. She’s all right now. Had two more babies since. You’ll be all right, given time.’

  ‘My baby—’ began Rebekah automatically, then stopped at the look in the girl’s eyes, and after an inward struggle, continued the conversation. The girl was friendly and she could do with a friend. ‘How did you come here?’

  ‘I couldn’t get work. Then I saw this advert in the newspaper and decided to have a go at it. I had an interview in Liverpool, and Bob’s your uncle, here I am! It’s not as bad as I thought – but maybe that’s because most of them here aren’t what you’d call really dangerous. They have money and because they’re a bit soft in the head and can’t look after themselves, their families put them in here.’

  Rebekah said grimly, ‘I don’t think all the orderlies think like you. Some of them have no patience. I’ve seen Doris smacking some of the older ones.’

  Ada’s mouth tightened. ‘Doris should keep her hands to herself! But you can get that way that you look on them like children who need disciplining.’ Her expression softened. ‘But you’re not like that. You’re here just for a rest, really. You’ve had a shock and you need time to get over it.’

  ‘Is that what the doctor says?’ Rebekah’s voice was unsteady and for the first time in what felt like months she experienced a glimmer of hope.

  Ada smiled. ‘That’s what I say! Now would you like to have a walk in the gardens? It looks like it’s going to be a fine day.’

  The fresh air did Rebekah good. The gardens were spacious and the flower beds bloomed. Life was real again. She was not going mad. She would get out and find David.

  She kept saying the words to herself but as day slowly followed day with no change, and no visit from Joshua or word from anybody else, she struggled against feelings of panic. She asked for writing materials and wrote letters to her aunt, Brigid and Edwina, telling them what had happened, but they were returned to her without explanation.

  Her anxiety became so great that remembering how Emma had escaped she tried to climb the locked iron gates but was spotted by one of the patients who was up a tree calling the birds. The attendants were alerted. Rebekah struggled but she was taken back to the house and confined. It was as if she had committed a crime and was in prison. She screamed to be let out but nobody took any notice of her and eventually she sank on to the floor, weeping.

  When she was released, Ada came to speak to her severely. ‘You weren’t half silly trying to get out. What was it that made you do a thing like that?’

  ‘I’m mad,’ said Rebekah, pushing back a strand of lank hair and staring at her. ‘Don’t you know.’

  Ada sat beside her. ‘No, you’re not.’

  Rebekah lifted her head. ‘You say that but perhaps I am.’ She paused. ‘Has there been any news from my husband?’

  ‘No, and they’re annoyed about it. Payment’s due.’

  Rebekah stared at her with a mixture of uncertainty and hope. ‘What will they do if he doesn’t pay?’

  Ada shrugged. ‘Not sure. They might move you somewhere else.’

  ‘Somewhere worse? Would you like to see that happen to me, Ada?’ She grasped her hand. ‘Or would you like to help me get out of here?’

  ‘Help you g
et out?’ Ada stared at her. ‘You’re not asking me to unlock the gates? I don’t—’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t get you into trouble.’ Rebekah smiled. ‘But could you get me paper and an envelope on the sly? If I write a letter to a friend, will you post it?’

  Relief slackened Ada’s mouth. ‘I don’t mind doing that.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Rebekah laughed and hugged her.

  Daniel’s eyes scanned the page yet again and then he placed the letter on the table and looked at Brigid, pouring milk into two cups. He had been released from prison two days ago and a headline in a Dublin newspaper had brought him immediately to Liverpool, and Brigid, in the hope that she would help him to find out exactly where Rebekah was. He had not been disappointed because only that morning Brigid had received a letter from her. Such a letter that it made him want to weep. His hand shook slightly as he took the cup of tea from Brigid. ‘I’ll have to get that doctor.’

  ‘It’s terrible! All these weeks believing his lordship had taken her to Ireland when all the time she’s been in a place like that!’ Brigid hit the letter with her fist. ‘Can you believe anyone could be so cruel as to put a dead baby—’

  ‘I can believe anything of Green,’ said Daniel, barely able to control his own anger. ‘Where do we find this Dr Michaels?’

  ‘Her aunt might have his address. We could try there.’

  He nodded, gulped down his tea, impatient to be on his way. He placed his cup on the table. ‘Drink up, Bridie.’

  ‘I’ll leave it,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I can see you’re raring to go.’ They went.

  ‘Wicked! That’s what it is! Wicked!’ Rebekah’s aunt sat ramrod straight in the armchair next to the fire, gazing up at him. ‘Ireland! That’s where I was told she was! And all the time—’ Words obviously failed her.

  ‘We’ll get her out,’ said Daniel. ‘If you could tell me Dr Michael’s address?’

  Her mouth trembled. ‘I’m sorry, Mr O’Neill, I can’t help thee. Reluctant as I am to suggest it, her friend Miss McIntyre might have the address.’