by Gracie Hart
‘And let women like my sister keep having bairns that they can’t afford nor love, like her next door? Besides Sarah knew it wasn’t Bill’s she was carrying and that wasn’t the first time. If that useless bastard didn’t drink so much she wouldn’t have gone and had to bargain and plead with her body to keep a roof over their heads and him in work.’
‘You mean, she had another man in her life?’ Mick sat back and waited for his wife to tell her secrets.
‘Aye, she’d an arrangement with Ellershaw that owns the Rose. It’s his baby she was carrying. She’d tried to get rid of it a month earlier, but it didn’t work. That’s why I was so glad to see her girls on my doorstep when they came by out of the blue. Else she would have had to have gone full-term with the baby if she’d left it any later. I’m not a murderer; leave it too late and I’ll not do owt about it, as it’s a baby by then.’ Patsy’s hands shook as she looked at her Mick with tears in her eyes. ‘I should have written a note to go with the bottle, but I didn’t want the girls to read it, so I just asked them to tell her it was strong. Oh, Mick, what have I done? I have killed my sister! Bill is right, I am responsible for her death. And those poor lasses … what are they going to do without their mother? I can’t say they’ll be sad to see the back of Bill, but they’ll have to look after one another now. I’ve even missed the funeral, because I didn’t know.’ Patsy sobbed. ‘Happen he’s right … happen I am a bitter, old, twisted and wizened woman and I should be hanged.’
‘Now, Patsy, you know that’s not true. You thought you were helping; you weren’t to know she’d take too much …’ Mick put his arm around his wife and felt her body shudder in convulsions of grief. He didn’t quite know what to say; it was his wife’s domain and best he didn’t know too much about the workings of women. But what he did know was that it was a tragedy and an event that was going to change all their worlds.
Mary-Anne and Eliza walked home from their busy day at work in the sewing room to a house that was in darkness and silent as the grave.
‘He must have got his arse out of bed and gone to work, he’ll be back after his shift,’ Mary-Jane said to her relieved sister as they made their way in darkness to the kitchen. ‘Here, you light the gaslights and I’ll get the fire going.’ Mary-Anne reached for the packet of vestas above the fireplace, and struck one to set alight the fire she’d laid in the grate that morning. As the fire flickered and burnt and the dim light from the gaslights grew stronger, they realised that things were not right in the kitchen. Chairs were tipped up and the money box from the top of the fireplace was on the kitchen table with its contents missing.
‘We’ve been robbed, our Mary! Somebody’s been in our house!’ Eliza looked around her.
‘Here, come with me … they might still be in the house. Grab Mother’s rolling pin … we might need it.’ Mary-Anne lit a candle and looked fearfully at her sister as she sheltered the flame with her hand and walked down the passage, lighting the gaslights in the hallway and parlour as the both glanced around, hoping not to find the thief still inside. ‘Well, all is all right in here, nothing’s been touched. But I’d better check upstairs. You stay downstairs, just in case I disturb somebody and then you can catch them when they make their break for it. Just hit them over the head with the rolling pin.’ Mary-Anne lit the oil lamp that sat in the centre of the oak table that her mother had polished with love and care nearly every day. It had been the one decent piece of furniture that she’d been able to keep from her first marriage, bequeathed to her by a distant relative. Mary-Anne gave a quick glance at her sister as she left her shaking at the bottom of the stairs.
Eliza watched as the shadow of her sister was distorted on the wall as she climbed up the stairs to their bedrooms and feared for both their lives as she watched her disappear into her parents’ bedroom.
‘Eliza, Eliza, come quickly!’ Mary-Anne shouted downstairs.
Eliza quickly made her way upstairs and stood at the entrance to her parents’ room. She gasped as she saw the near-empty wardrobe and the contents of her mother’s drawers scattered all over the floor. They could see that their stepfather’s drawer had been emptied. But it was when Mary-Anne pointed out the shattered remains of the bottle that they recognised as the one they had brought from their Aunt Patsy’s that they both realised what had happened.
‘He’s gone, hasn’t he? He’s left us.’ Eliza sat down on the unmade bed and looked around her.
‘It looks like it, Eliza. He could at least have left the bit of money that there was in the cash box downstairs. And he’s made a good mess up here by breaking Aunt Patsy’s tonic.’
‘He always hated Aunt Patsy. That’s why she never visits. She won’t even know that we’ve lost our mother. We were both in such a state we didn’t dare mention to Bill that she should be told. What are we going to do, Mary-Anne? We are on our own … how are we going to survive?’ Eliza held her head in her hands.
Mary-Anne looked at the shattered glass and gasped. ‘Did you tell Mother that the mixture was stronger than usual? Because I never thought about it when I saw you give it to her.’ Mary-Anne looked at Eliza and waited.
‘No, I never said anything … I was too busy thinking about the bargains we had made that day. I just forgot.’ Eliza went quiet. ‘You don’t think …?’ Eliza looked at her sister and didn’t even want to comprehend what they were both thinking. ‘It was just a tonic, she said.’
‘I know Aunt Patsy told us it was just a tonic, but she wouldn’t tell us the truth, now would she, if it was one of her potent concoctions.’ Mary-Anne reached for her sister’s hand.
‘Oh, Mary-Anne we’ve killed our mother. We should have remembered to tell her that the tonic was strong. The baby’s dead and so is she, and now Bill has walked out on us. We’ve no money. Our clothes shop will only just keep us fed, let alone pay the rent. Thank God father left us that on his death and that mother never made us sell it, no matter how tough the times were. At least we have that. Not that the dilapidated place is worth anything much.’ Eliza started to cry.
Mary-Anne put her arm around her shaking sister. ‘We’ll manage, we’ll have to, and something will turn up. And at least we can sleep easy in our bed tonight, now Bill’s gone.’ She looked around at the shattered glass and the empty wardrobe. She knew she spoke brave words to her sister, brave words that she couldn’t justify. Just how were they going to survive, she didn’t know, but survive they must.
Eight
‘This doesn’t feel right.’ Eliza looked at her parents’ bed with the array of her mother’s clothes and possessions on it that they were planning to sell in their shop.
‘It’ll make us a bit of money and keep us fed, Eliza. Mother wouldn’t have minded, she’d understand. Besides, they are no good to anybody just hanging there unworn, and we will keep back something to remind us both of her. I thought Mrs Simms next door might like this little brooch with the bluebird on it. It’s not worth anything but it’s pretty and Mother loved it. And Mrs Simms has been so good with us since Mother died. Now, what would you like to keep of hers? I’d like this hair slide. Can you remember how she used to always wear it at Christmas when we had friends and relations over at our old home? Father used to always admire her with this in her hair.’ Mary-Anne picked up the hair slide that was set with paste diamonds and smiled, remembering the good times before her father had died and before Bill Parker had made his way into their lives, as she popped the slide into her pocket.
‘I’d like the locket please. It’s got a lock of our father’s hair in, and so we shouldn’t sell that.’ Eliza picked the locket up from the few pieces of jewellery that her mother had possessed and held it tenderly in her hand. ‘I just can’t believe she’s gone; I miss her so much.’
‘We both do, but we’ve got to be practical. It’s no good clinging to the past; we’ve got to look to our future. If we can sell most of this in the shop, and that green organza dress, we should be able to keep our heads above water until after Chri
stmas. After that I don’t know … we will have to play it by ear. I’m just worried that now Bill no longer works at the pit Ellershaw will want his cottage back; I pray not. Perhaps I’ll have to get a job in one of the mills in Leeds and leave just you to look after the shop, you could nearly live there on your own and I’d just have to seek a room to rent. Or perhaps we could both manage to live in the shop if we had to?’ Mary-Anne sighed, the last thing she wanted was to walk the five miles to Leeds and back every day to work like a slave in one of the many woollen mills that were springing up or to live there in one of the many doss houses. ‘Besides, you may soon become Mrs Thackeray the way that Tom looks at you. It’s a pity you couldn’t meet him last Sunday, but I’m sure he understood when you told him you couldn’t when he attended Mother’s funeral. It would have not been respectable for you to do so, not yet.’
‘He won’t look twice at me anyway, dressed in these mourning clothes, nobody will. I expected him to call around now we are on our own. He’s sure to know that Bill has left us, with him not going to work.’ Eliza’s face said it all. Life had just started to look rosy for her until her mother had been found dead. Now, with Bill leaving and rumours rife about their mother’s demise, she and Mary-Anne were the centre of gossip and avoided like the plague.
‘Nonsense, of course he will. Give him a little time and he will make himself known again. He’s being respectful of our grief.’ Mary-Anne felt sorry for her sister and remembered her smiling face when she had walked out with Tom on that fateful Sunday morning.
‘I doubt it. His mother hated me before all this, so she definitely will now.’ Eliza sighed. ‘I’ll make us a cup of tea, I think we can just afford it. Perhaps we should ask for tick next time we go into Farrar’s shop, although Mother always said she’d rather do without than owe anybody anything. You don’t honestly think old Ellershaw will throw us both out, do you?’
‘I don’t know, as long as he gets the rent he might be happy. We’ll manage, Eliza, something will turn up. While you put the kettle on, I’ll go around to see Ada Simms and give her this brooch. She may be a nosy old biddy but you must admit she’s been good to us once she found out Bill had left, bringing around that tasty hotpot last night and watching out for both of us.’ Mary-Anne followed her sister downstairs and opened the front door to visit her neighbour.
Eliza looked at her sister. ‘Don’t tell her any of our business though, Mary.’
‘I don’t think there’s anything left to tell, Eliza; everybody knows our plight and what they don’t know they are making up. I’ll be back in a short while.’ Mary-Anne stepped out of the house and went around next door to knock on the door of number two, Pit Lane.
Ada Simms answered the knock and stood in her hallway and looked at the young woman who looked slightly haggard, after the events that had shook the family.
‘Mary-Anne, is everything all right?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you, Mrs Simms. I’ve just popped my head around to give you this, I thought you might like something to remember our mother by and you’ve been so good to both of us these last days.’ Mary-Anne reached into her pocket and passed over the small silver brooch. ‘We are clearing her clothes and possessions out, we thought we could sell them in the shop.’
‘Aye, lass, that’s kind of you. Your mother often wore this on her high-collared blouse. Are you sure neither of you two lasses want it?’ Ada Simms felt her eyes fill with tears and she fought them back as she picked up the brooch from Mary-Anne. ‘Anyway, what am I thinking about? Come in out of the cold. Come and have a drink of tea with us and tell me how you are both doing. I’d just put the kettle on to boil before your knock on the door.’
‘No, you’re fine, Mrs Simms. I must get back to Eliza, she doesn’t like to be on her own at the moment.’ Mary-Anne knew once in the house she would struggle to escape from the bombardment of questions that she would be subjected to.
‘I understand. Poor Eliza … she will miss her mother. And then for Bill to up sticks and leave you both … I always thought he was an uncaring man. Now, Bert and me have been talking and I know that you’ll not both feel like celebrating Christmas but we’d like you to come for dinner here; it’s the least we can do. It’ll not be anything fancy, mind, just a piece of pork and a tattie or two, but it will be better than you two sitting on your own. I couldn’t have you doing that, now could I?’ Ada reached for Mary-Anne’s hand in reassurance and waited for her to answer.
‘Oh, I don’t know. We’d be imposing on your Christmas and as you say it’s the last thing on our minds at the moment.’ Mary-Anne hadn’t given Christmas a second thought, apart from mending the green dress that was now in the shop window in the hope that someone would buy it for the party season.
‘I won’t take no for an answer. Else I wouldn’t be much of a Christian soul, now would I? I’m sure Eliza will be all right with it; anywhere is better than sitting feeling sorry for yourselves, because Christmas is the time we miss our loved ones. And with your mother’s death being so fresh, it will be hard this year.’ Ada smiled at Mary-Anne and she knew it was futile to decline the invite.
‘Very well, it’s very kind of you to think of us. We will look forward to it.’ Mary-Anne smiled at her neighbour and then bade her farewell.
As she closed the garden gate, her face dropped. The last thing she wanted was to sit around the Christmas table with Ada and Bert Simms but this year they would be fools to decline, else it would probably mean at best a dinner of bacon and egg, and at worst bread and dripping. A piece of roast pork would be most welcome, no matter what Eliza said about the invite.
‘Oh, Mary-Anne, how could you? How can you expect us both to sit with them two and enjoy our food? Ada Simms is such gossip, and Bert looks at me like I’m a piece of dirt on his shoe. I’d rather be eating bread and dripping than watching every word I say and besides, I’d rather forget about Christmas this year.’ Eliza sighed.
‘Just for once we’ll have full bellies that day. I’m beginning to forget what one of them feels like since Mother passed. If we’d not had the charity from next door, we’d have been starving by now. We’ve got to take the opportunities that are sent our way, and I can just taste that pork with apple sauce. So just, for once, smile and enjoy your day.’ Mary-Anne spoke sharply at her younger sister; she could be so ungrateful sometimes.
‘I’ll hate every minute and so will you if you are truthful.’ Eliza looked at her sister as she wrapped her mother’s clothes up in readiness for the shop.
‘I know, but we have to do these things to survive. And after all it will be Christmas in a fortnight, whether we like it or not. The rent on the cottage will be due, we need some oil for the lamps and some coal. We’ve always taken that for granted with Bill working at the pit, now we’ll have to buy it.’ Mary-Anne could have cried but she had to look strong for Eliza’s sake.
Nine
Grace Ellershaw looked at her brother and grinned at him as he picked up his swagger stick from the hallstand.
‘Mother,’ she called up to the nursery above, ‘William and I are just going to take a stroll up Woodlesford. We thought that we might do a little Christmas shopping, if there’s anything to buy in this godforsaken village.’ She was overjoyed that her brother had returned from Cambridge as she had missed his company so much. Now she was going to be selfish and have a day with him all by herself.
‘I really don’t know why you are doing this, Grace, when we could have taken our coach into the centre of Leeds, where there is choice beyond belief.’ William Ellershaw tipped his hat and offered his sister his arm as they closed the door of Highfield behind them both, neither waiting for their mother to reply.
‘I’m doing it, dear brother, to get some time with you on your own and to save me from boredom. Besides, Leeds is so busy at this time of year, although I am going to have to pay a visit to Grandpapa to remind him what I would dearly like for Christmas. I’m sure you did that when you visited him the other week. Y
ou’d be a fool if you didn’t.’
‘I couldn’t get a word in edgeways for Mamma trying to convince Grandpapa that he needed me to help buy his ever-expanding empire. However, he didn’t look impressed and I didn’t push myself forward as I don’t know the first thing about wool.’ William scowled. It was getting to be a little tedious, the way his life was expected to fold out before his eyes, on the whim of parents and grandparents. He had reached an age in his life where he no longer needed to be told to wipe his nose or not speak until spoken too, but his parents still insisted on treating him as a child, just like his younger brother George.
‘What are you going to do, William? You just can’t waste your life in reading your books and staying in your room out of the way of father. He is really angry with you for leaving university and then for not showing an interest in the mine.’ Grace looked up at her brother, whom she loved dearly, and smiled at him. ‘Mamma might be right, Grandpapa could give you a good position in life, and after all he is one of the richest men in West Riding.’
‘Don’t you worry your head about me, Grace, I’ll show more interest in things this coming spring. I just need some time to myself. I’ve a lot to think about since I left Cambridge; there are things back there I regret leaving and it is taking me time to get over the loss.’ William looked at his caring sister; she was as pretty as a picture in her dark purple bonnet and purple mantle to match. Her black hair was carefully pinned up in a bun underneath her hat and her dark eyes sparkled with wit. Many of his friends showed interest in her but none seemed to be able to match her wisdom and love of learning. She too enjoyed her books and had a better business head on her than his father, he often thought. Along with her kind heart, she would make someone the perfect wife.
Grace stopped in her tracks and looked up at her handsome brother. He had not been himself since his return and she had often noticed him of late looking glum as he tried to go about making a place for himself at home again.
