His Brother's Wife

by Val Wood

  But then, with a jolt, she thought of something else. He could have made her pregnant.

  That decided her. She ate the remainder of the apple pie, washed, combed her hair and went out, dropping off the pie dish and then heading towards the church to ask the vicar about the banns.

  She approached him nervously and told him in a quavering voice that she was going to be married. He frowned. ‘Were you not here for a burial service last week?’

  ‘I was, sir,’ she said, ‘and now I need ’marriage banns proclaiming or whatever it is has to be done.’

  ‘Rather soon after your mother’s death, isn’t it?’ His voice was disapproving. ‘No time for grieving?’

  ‘I’ll grieve for ’rest o’ my life sir,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been offered a chance and I’m going to tek it.’ She took in his grim expression. ‘It’s either marriage or ’workhouse. I’ve been put on short time at ’mill, I owe rent arrears and I’ve lost my job at ’alehouse. I could go on ’streets, I suppose,’ she said resentfully, ‘that’s another option. Would it be better to sell my body to several men rather than just one? You tell me, sir. I’m sure you know best.’

  He cleared his throat and looked away. ‘I’ll pray for you,’ he murmured, ‘and read the banns on Sunday.’

  Harriet told him when they wanted the marriage ceremony, adding that as Noah was a farmer it was the only time he could manage; when the vicar asked for her future husband’s name, age and place of residence, she told him as much as she knew. Not knowing how old he was, she made up Noah’s date of birth, guessing at about twenty-five or -six.

  She blew out her cheeks as she left the church, glad the ordeal was over, and as she crossed over to the Market Place she saw a woman she knew from the mill.

  ‘Nancy!’ she called. ‘Aren’t you at work?’

  The woman came towards her. ‘I’ve been put on short time, like you. I’m out looking for another job, though God knows how I’ll manage wi’ two bairns at home.’

  ‘I’m getting married,’ Harriet blurted out. ‘I’ve had an offer.’

  Nancy’s mouth dropped open. ‘You must be mad! You’ll be in ’family way afore you can blink an eye. Don’t,’ she urged. ‘At least you’ve onny yourself to look out for.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘I was allus envious o’ you. Just you and your ma, no houseful o’ bairns wanting feeding and clothing or a man under your feet all day.’

  ‘Ma’s gone,’ Harriet felt tears gathering, ‘so there’s just me now, and it’s a lonely life, especially wi’ no money.’

  ‘Who is he?’ Nancy asked curiously. ‘From round here, is he?’

  ‘No.’ Harriet shook her head. ‘I barely know him. He’s from out o’ town – a farmer, he says. Lives further up ’estuary.’

  ‘Ah!’ Nancy appeared to reconsider. ‘Well, I dunno then. You’ll have food on ’table, I expect?’

  Harriet nodded miserably. ‘Hope so. He’s given me some money to buy a skirt for ’wedding. Will you be a witness, Nancy?’ she asked impulsively. ‘He said we could pull somebody in from ’street, but I’d rather it was somebody I knew.’

  Nancy licked her lips. ‘I’ve nowt to wear, except what I’ve got on now.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Will you come? If you’re not working, that is.’ She gave her the day and the time and Nancy said she would be there if she could, and then Harriet asked her to come with her now to help choose something suitable to wear.

  ‘Yeh,’ she said. ‘I’d like to do that, an’ I reckon if he’s given you money to buy summat for yourself, then he must be all right. There’s not many men’d give money to a woman to spend on herself and not on food or rent.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ Harriet asked, wanting reassurance.

  ‘I do!’ Nancy said emphatically. ‘I reckon you’ve done all right for yourself, Harriet. Wait till I tell ’other lasses when I see ’em. They’ll be that jealous.’

  They toured the many second-hand clothes shops in the back streets, looking for something clean and serviceable. Harriet thought that if she was to live in the country she wouldn’t need anything frivolous, even though she sighed over a green satin skirt. Eventually they found a grey skirt with a circle of black velvet ribbon two inches above the hem, and priced at one shilling. Nancy declared it would be eminently serviceable, and suitable as a mourning garment too.

  In another shop Harriet spotted a white cotton blouse and a short grey buttoned jacket and managed to beat the shopkeeper down to a shilling for the two.

  ‘My boots will have to do,’ she said, as they came out of the shop. ‘I’d rather spend a copper at ’bath house; that would be a treat, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, aye, it would,’ Nancy agreed. ‘I can’t help but think you’re doing ’right thing, Harriet.’

  Harriet pushed to the back of her mind the fact that she wasn’t as sure as Nancy, but thought that she might as well enjoy the frivolity of a smart set of clothes and a hot bath before she took the final step towards marriage with an unknown man; and feeling generous she put her hand into her skirt pocket and brought out the penny the rent man had given her and handed it to Nancy.

  ‘Go an’ buy your bairns a penny loaf,’ she said. ‘You’ve bucked me up no end.’

  ‘Oh, thanks, Harriet,’ Nancy said gratefully. ‘I’ll see you at ’church door then? In three weeks’ time.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  By the day of her wedding, Harriet had sold the few belongings that she would no longer need in her new life. The table had gone, and a wooden cupboard containing her mother’s few pieces of crockery and pans. She had kept one cracked cup, a single chair and her mattress, but sold the metal frame and springs of the bed.

  She put her old skirt, her better skirt, a shawl, and a cotton blouse into a bag. Don’t want to mess up these new ones, she thought, looking down with some satisfaction at the grey skirt. Not if I’m feeding chickens or collecting eggs. In spite of her fears she felt a frisson of excitement as she anticipated what might be in front of her.

  At half past three, she washed her hands and brushed her hair, put her brush and comb into the bag and sat on the chair to wait. Fifteen minutes later she jumped as the door was sharply rapped. Cautiously, she opened it. He was here.

  He stepped inside. ‘Are you ready? I’ve got ’cart out in ’street.’

  ‘Y-yes,’ she said nervously. ‘Will we be coming back here?’

  ‘What for? There’s nowt you need, is there?’

  She glanced round. ‘Just ’mattress and ’chair.’

  ‘We don’t need ’em,’ he said brusquely. ‘I told you we’ve plenty o’ furniture.’ Then he grinned. ‘And you’ll not need your mattress when you’ll be sharing mine. Come on, let’s be off. I haven’t got all day to hang about.’ And he walked out of the door into the entry.

  Harriet took a deep huff of breath and glanced round the room. It wasn’t much but it had been home and was filled with memories of her mother; but what else to do? She realized that without this marriage, she still wouldn’t have been able to stay here. She locked the door and hid the key under a stone and turned away for the last time without looking back.

  The horse wasn’t the same one as he had ridden previously; this was an old nag which pulled a battered wooden cart. I thought he’d said a trap, Harriet mused as she glanced inside it and saw the muddy interior and gathered up her skirt to climb up to sit beside him.

  At Holy Trinity church, Nancy was waiting at the gate. She had a friend with her, someone who also worked at the mill, whom Harriet knew only slightly.

  ‘She offered to come as another witness when I told her,’ Nancy whispered, glancing nervously in Noah’s direction. ‘I don’t think she believed me.’

  Harriet nodded. ‘Can’t believe it myself,’ she murmured. ‘Nancy, if you go to my house afterwards – you’ll find ’key under a stone – you can have ’mattress and ’chair that I’ve left behind. Sell ’em if you don’t want ’em.’ She indicated with a toss of her head. ‘He says we
won’t need ’em.’

  ‘Oh, thanks,’ Nancy said gratefully. ‘You’re a pal. I’ll get Jack to give me a hand. We can do wi’ another mattress for ’bairns to sleep on. We’re that squashed in our bed.’

  Noah was marching towards the church door and looked impatiently back at Harriet. ‘Are you coming or what?’

  ‘I’m coming,’ she said, adding under her breath, ‘it’s now or never.’

  The ceremony didn’t take long. The vicar seemed as anxious to get it over with and be rid of them as they were to finalize it. As they came out under a grey, darkening sky, Noah looked at the two witnesses, sighed, and put his hand in his pocket. He gave them sixpence each, but didn’t speak to them. They both mumbled their thanks and Nancy glanced at Harriet, rolled her eyes and murmured, ‘Good luck.’

  Harriet was sure that she would need it. She climbed back into the cart, being careful not to catch her skirt on the rough wood, wrapped her shawl around her, for the weather was cold and damp, and hoped they wouldn’t have to travel far.

  ‘Where was it you said you lived?’ she asked, as he pulled away. ‘Brough, was it?’

  ‘No, that’s ’nearest town,’ he said. ‘Farm’s further out, between Ellerker Sands an’ Broomfleet, near ’river bank.’

  ‘Does it flood?’

  ‘Aye, sometimes. When ’tide’s high. We’ve to dig out ditches regular. House is not so bad; we’ve dug ditches round it.’

  We? Dare I ask?

  ‘Who else is there?’ she ventured. ‘You keep saying we.’

  ‘Me brother and me, we keep ’ditches clear. Da helps now and then.’ He gave a grunt. ‘When he’s a mind to.’

  ‘And – erm, where do they live?’

  He turned and looked down at her. ‘In ’same house. Where d’ya think?’

  Harriet closed her eyes tightly. ‘Three of you! Does that mean I’ve three men to look after, to clean and cook for? I wasn’t expecting this.’

  ‘What were you expecting? A life o’ luxury? I told you that you’d have to help about ’farm. Anyway,’ he shook the reins to urge the steed faster, but it didn’t make any difference, she still plodded on at her own pace, ‘Ma does all ’cooking. She won’t want anybody else interfering in her kitchen.’

  It gets worse, Harriet reckoned. ‘What does she think about you marrying and bringing a wife home?’

  He threw back his head and guffawed. ‘Ha! They don’t know yet. None of ’em know. It’s a big surprise for all of ’em. Especially Fletcher.’

  ‘Fletcher?’

  ‘Aye, my brother. We’re allus at daggers drawn, arguing about who does which jobs and who’s more able on ’farm. So I says to him, whoever’s first to bring a wife home shall have more right to say what’s what about ’farm, and if there are any sons, then they’ll have ’farm when Da’s gone.’

  Harriet frowned. ‘And did he agree? And what did your father say about it? Surely it’s his decision.’

  He gave a sly chuckle. ‘Whether he agreed or not, it’s done now, and as for Da, I never bothered to tell him, but it’s not his decision in any case. That’s for ’landowner to decide, but I reckoned if I had a houseful o’ lads he’d want us to tek over.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Harriet said desperately. ‘You told me you were a farmer, with a farm. You never said owt about it belonging to somebody else.’

  ‘I am a farmer,’ he said sharply. ‘But I never said I was made o’ brass! Do you know how much money you’d need to own your own farm? We’re tenants; have been for years. My father took it on from ’estate owner when he and Ma were married.’

  ‘I didn’t know how it worked,’ she said in a small voice. ‘But he’s not likely to turn you out if you don’t pay ’rent?’

  ‘We have to mek it pay; we’ve to keep it in good order and mek sure ’buildings are looked after, things like that. But he never comes to look at it. As long as we pay him every quarter he’s not bothered, though he sends his bailiff to tek a look now and then.’

  ‘Bailiff!’ she breathed. ‘Oh no!’

  ‘Farm bailiff,’ he said. ‘He collects ’rent and keeps an eye on things, not like ’bailiffs in town who come to tek your goods if you don’t pay ’rent.’

  They continued in silence for several miles. Harriet pondered that she might have made the biggest mistake of her life and wondered how she could get out of it. She even considered jumping down from the cart and making her way back to Hull, but thought better of it. I’m legally married and he could drag me back. Besides, we’re out of town; it’d be a long walk back.

  It’s done, she thought as they travelled onward on roads she didn’t know. For better for worse: isn’t that what I’ve just promised? The life I’m going to might not be much better, but it could have been worse if I’d stopped in Hull. She sighed and looked about her but there was nothing much to see, only a few lights in distant windows; they must have been travelling for an hour and it was almost dark. She wondered how the horse could know its way home, as Noah was just sitting there holding the reins loosely, his hands between his knees, and whistling between his teeth.

  ‘Are we nearly there?’

  ‘Not yet; we’re onny just past Hessle. Coming up to North Ferriby next.’

  ‘It’s just that – call o’ nature, you know. I can’t wait much longer.’

  He tugged on the reins and drew up. ‘Hop off then. Don’t tek long.’

  Harriet jumped down and peered about. There would be no one to see her, that was for sure, but where to crouch? She could see the outline of bushes and trees, but otherwise nothing. She took a few steps behind the cart, holding on to it so that she didn’t fall, and decided that here would be as good as anywhere. She lifted her skirt and relieved herself, trying not to splash her new skirt.

  ‘You’ll not want to wear that fancy skirt when we get home,’ he commented as she climbed back up beside him. ‘I hope you’ve brought summat suitable for working in. And you’ll need rubber boots as well. There’s a good deal o’ mud about.’

  ‘I’ve onny got what I’m wearing,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t any money left for another pair.’

  He grunted. ‘Mebbe Ma has an old pair that’ll fit.’

  ‘Noah,’ she said, after a while. ‘Look at ’sky!’

  He looked up. ‘Yeh, what about it?’

  ‘All them stars – hundreds of them!’

  The sky was black but sparkling with myriad stars, making her feel dizzy as she stretched her neck to gaze at them.

  ‘Millions, more like,’ he said. ‘They’re allus there, ’cept when they’re hidden by cloud.’ He paused, and then muttered, ‘That’s onny thing that you can be sure of.’

  They rattled along, sometimes on a bumpy uphill track, other times on a smoother road, and Harriet ached with sitting so long; she had never travelled so far in the whole of her life.

  Presently Noah said. ‘Coming up to Welton.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘One of ’villages. We’ve to tek a longer route when pulling ’cart. I came quicker riding across ’country tracks.’

  Harriet sighed. It seemed as if they were travelling to the ends of the earth.

  After what seemed an age he remarked, ‘Won’t be so long now. We’re nearly at Ellerker. Just a few miles more.’

  They passed through a small village with cottages set round a green area, and lamps lit in the windows, but when they left it the sky was so low and thick with cloud that she couldn’t distinguish anything more and the stars had disappeared. The air smelt fresh yet damp, she thought, just like Robson’s Entry, but there was a colder wind here that chilled her bones.

  She had no way of knowing how long they had been travelling. She ached everywhere and had a thumping headache; then the mare gave a whinny and quickened her pace.

  ‘Old gal knows we’re nearly home,’ Noah said briefly. ‘She’ll be after her supper.’

  So am I, Harriet thought, and a warm fire and a bed; she reflected that she would ev
en submit gladly to her husband as long as she could lie down and rest.

  ‘It’s salt marsh round here,’ Noah informed her, ‘so it’s a bit damp. But you’ll be used to that, I expect, seeing as you’ve allus lived close to ’river?’

  She sighed. ‘How can you farm if you’re that close to ’estuary?’

  ‘We’re set back, well back, and providing ’Humber doesn’t break its banks we can keep sheep and a few cattle; we just have to keep ’ditches and drains clear and build up ’embankment to keep water out of bottom field.’

  ‘I see,’ she said, but she didn’t. She knew nothing about the country, but a lot about floodwater and the damage it could do.

  Presently the horse whinnied again and turned on to a rutted track. They racketed along, the cartwheels lurching and jerking in deep cracks, and Harriet held on, fearing the cart might turn over, but Noah just sat there letting the mare dictate the pace, and then with a grim deriding laugh exclaimed, ‘Here we are. Marsh Farm. Now for it! Let’s see what they’ve got to say.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Harriet stepped down from the cart and Noah unhitched the mare from the traces, letting her amble away across the yard towards what looked like a barn or a shed. The only light in the two-storey house showed through a small downstairs window.

  Harriet shivered. She was nervous, but there was also a chill wind blowing from the estuary and she pulled her shawl closer to her.

  Noah pushed open a planked door and told her to follow him. She stepped over a high threshold into a small lobby, which had coats hanging on hooks and stank of wet boots. He opened another door, and before Harriet could even glance inside a woman’s voice complained sharply, ‘And where’ve you been?’

  He held the door for Harriet, and as she moved up beside him he answered, ‘Getting wed, that’s where I’ve been. This is my wife, Harriet.’

  The woman who had spoken was sitting at a scrubbed wooden table bearing the remains of a meal. In the middle of the table was an oil lamp. Mrs Tuke, if it were she, might have been fifty or possibly younger; she was small and thin, with a lined face and grey hair beneath a pleated cotton bonnet. Sitting opposite her was a man who Harriet guessed was Noah’s father. He had a shaggy white beard and was wearing a felt hat and what seemed to be a long cotton shirt with wide sleeves. They both stared at her without speaking.