The Girl From Pit Lane

by Gracie Hart

  ‘Well, he didn’t get his way, did he? And won’t as long as we keep getting the support of his daughter and her followers. But I am going to tackle him; after all this baby is his. It’s not like I’ve lifted my skirts for anybody else. He might do right by us both and actually offer me some means of security for this child of his I’m carrying or at least pay for a backstreet remedy for me.’ Mary-Anne lifted her head but knew the words she spoke were empty. She had realised how her mother had been treated by him in the past, and knew exactly what reception she would get if she confronted him, but that she would keep to herself.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you, Mary-Anne? It would be better if we were both together. I could tell him exactly what we think of him, the dirty old bastard.’

  ‘And you’d only rile him into raising our rent more or throwing us out onto the street. No, I’ll go on my own and if I don’t get anywhere, I’ll have to think what to do. There’s always Aunt Patsy. She’d be able to help, although I don’t want John Vasey to know my predicament.’ Mary-Anne hung her head. She’d been waiting for another visit from the quiet-spoken man but he had never shown his face, and she had not seen him on further visits into Leeds, his absence making her realise that she did have feelings for him after all. But now she was ruined.

  ‘Not Aunt Patsy, not since our mother!’ Eliza cried. ‘I know it was partly our fault, we forgot to tell her the tincture was strong, but I don’t trust her potions anymore and I couldn’t bear to lose you the same way as her.’ Eliza held out her hand and fought back her tears.

  ‘It hasn’t come to that.’ Mary-Anne squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll go to the Rose tomorrow and see what Edmund Ellershaw says; surely he should take some responsibility.’ Mary-Anne tried to sound positive for the sake of her sister.

  ‘He better had.’ Eliza looked unconvinced. ‘But my main concern is you my dear sister, you must take care.’

  Mary-Anne felt the warmth of the early sun on her face, warming her as she walked along the lane to Rose Pit. It was the beginning of spring and the birds were singing loudly, attracting mates for the nesting season. She looked over at a bank of primroses that were just beginning to show between the brambles that ran the length of the lane. She would have normally stopped to pick a bunch and taken the time to admire the loveliness of the day. However, today, no matter how the sun shone, it could not lift her mood. All she could think about was the child she was carrying, and the predicament she was in, and facing Edmund Ellershaw.

  She knew she was dragging her feet as she neared the colliery yard. There she stopped to watch the pithead wheel turning, lowering or returning men to or from the bowels of the earth where the black gold lay. It was responsible for keeping most of the residents of Woodlesford, Rothwell and Oulton in work and their families fed, its dark seams running as far under the ground as Wakefield.

  Some of the mines and their owners were well respected, while other ones had bad reputations for unsafe practices or hard, uncaring owners. The later was true of the Rose; the pit was run well, but everyone knew that Ellershaw was a hard, manipulating bastard. A bastard whose child Mary-Anne was now carrying.

  She felt her legs nearly buckle from under her as she watched Tom leave the hut that acted as the office and saw Edmund close the door after him. He was on his own; now was the time to confront him.

  As she set of across the yard, she wondered how many times her mother had done the same thing as she was doing. Had it been just the once or was it a regular occurrence? How many babies had she disposed of, unwanted and unloved, after the bastard having his way? She caught her breath as she opened the paint-worn door and stepped into the office to tackle the man she hated.

  ‘By hell, you must be eager to see me. You are a week early if you are here to pay this month’s rent in kind.’ Edmund sat back in his chair and grinned at the lass he’d known would have to return to him at some time.

  ‘I’m not here to pay the rent. Your man will get his money when he calls and always will do as long as we live there, no matter how much you put our rent up.’ Mary-Anne looked at the foul man and picked up the courage to tell him the reason for her visit. ‘I’m here because I’m carrying your child and I’ve come to see what you are going to do about it.’ Mary-Anne looked at the face that did not flinch an inch.

  ‘Do about it! Why should I do anything about it? Just because you’ve got caught doesn’t mean it’s anything to do with me. It could be any Tom, Dick or Harry’s from what I hear. You’ve had a man stopping at your house anyway, go and tell him your sorry tale.’ Edmund sat back and laughed. ‘By, you’ve a brass neck, I’ll give you that. Accusing me of being the father … after my money, are you?’

  ‘You know what you did to me. I was an innocent … I’ve never … You know this baby is yours. At least you could pay to get rid of it.’ Mary-Anne stood her ground, actually saying the words that she’d been thinking on her walk to confront him.

  ‘I know you’re like your bloody whore of a mother. Don’t you come wailing to me. You knew what you were doing when you opened your legs, just like she did. I didn’t hear you complaining when coal was delivered to your door and you kept your roof over your head. Just get rid of it like your mother did and bugger off.’ Edmund stood up and opened the door, grabbing hold of Mary-Anne’s arm and shoving her towards the door. ‘And hold your tongue, if you know what’s good for you, else you will be out on the streets, I’ll guarantee you that.’

  ‘But you know it’s yours. I was a good girl, I’ve not been with anyone else.’ Mary-Anne clung on to his arm to no avail as he threw her out of his office and down onto the ground.

  ‘Keep your mouth shut, else it will be the worse for you bitch,’ Edmund warned again before slamming his door closed, leaving Mary-Anne prostrate on the floor outside.

  She lay there for a second or two, reviewing the situation and wondering if she had the nerve to tackle the heartless man again, but she knew her breath would be wasted so she stood herself up and dusted her skirt down from the clinker and dust that littered the yard.

  ‘Mary-Anne, are you all right?’ Tom walked around the corner of the office and rushed to her side as he noticed her picking herself up from the floor.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine. I just fell down the steps as I came out from my meeting with Mr Ellershaw. I should have been more careful.’ Mary-Anne felt embarrassed that Tom had witnessed her fall and that he had found her visiting the office.

  ‘Are things all right? Have you a problem with the rent?’ Tom was racking his head as to why Mary-Anne should be visiting the pithead.

  ‘No, no, I just wanted to leave a message for his daughter, Grace. She was supposed to send Eliza some measurements and she’s forgotten.’ Mary-Anne lied and smiled as she turned to leave Tom.

  ‘You’ll be lucky if he gives that to her, I don’t think he’s keen on his daughter spending his money at your shop. He’s always growling about her expenses.’ Tom stood on the steps of the office but couldn’t help but notice that while Mary-Anne smiled at him she looked worried and not her usual self. ‘Are Eliza and you are all right? Nothing wrong? I’ll try and get to see Eliza this Sunday after chapel. Can you tell her?’

  ‘Yes, we are both fine. Still finding it a little hard, now we are on our own, but that is only to be expected. Eliza says she now doesn’t want to go to the chapel since we lost our mother and I can take it or leave it; it’s a pity because she could meet you there instead of having to sneak behind your mother’s back to come to our house.’ Mary-Anne felt sorry for Tom; his mother ruled his life and he was torn between doing her wishes and following his heart.

  ‘One day she will understand and come around to my seeing Eliza. She still thinks I’m only young, she forgets that her and Father had been married for three years when she was my age.’ Tom sighed. ‘I’ll have to get a move on. Sorry, Mary-Anne.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’m just going to make my way home. I might go back along the canal, it’s such a grand day.’
Mary-Anne picked her skirts up as she picked her way through the yard, leaving Tom to enter into the lair of Edmund Ellershaw.

  Mary-Anne walked along the bank of the Leeds to Liverpool canal, lost in her thoughts. Her mind was racing with fear and worry. How was she ever going to cope with bringing a baby into the world with no support from the man who had got her into trouble? She didn’t want it, and life was hard enough for her and Eliza without another mouth to feed. Life as she knew it was over and she’d give the gossips like Ada Simms more ammunition to fire at both her and Eliza once her predicament was common knowledge. She might as well end it here and now, because there was nothing left in her life.

  How stupid she had been to be used by the bastard Ellershaw; his sort would always win over the likes of her. She stood on the lock that spanned the canal and looked into the depths of the waters below. The wooden, movable bridge felt unsteady under her feet and she thought how easy it would be just to fall into the waters and for some unknown bargehand to fish her out and wonder who she was and how she had ended up there. Was this the way out of her dilemma? Nobody would really miss her. Eliza had Tom; she’d end up wed to him, regardless of his mother’s objections.

  She breathed in deeply and looked up the canal in the direction of Woodlesford and the railway line, her back towards the pit and Leeds city. She watched as two ducks busily carried reeds and grass to a nest they were making together in readiness of their brood that they were expecting shortly. A true family, something that she would never have. Looking around her at the beautiful spring’s day, she took a deep breath before she lay her shawl on to the handle that pushed the lock open, her eyes filled with tears as she made her decision. With her heart beating loudly she asked for forgiveness from the Lord that she didn’t really believe in, and looked around at His creation on her last day on his earth. It was better that she ended it this way, her and the baby dead together, instead of the horrible death her mother and the child she’d carried had undergone. She held her breath …

  ‘Mary-Anne, Mary-Anne, stop! What are you doing?’ John Vasey yelled as he saw Mary-Anne leaning over the wooden bridge, looking like she was about to throw herself into the canal. He dropped the new reams of material he was about to deliver to the sisters and ran to where she stood shaking on the bridge. Tears ran down her face and her body was trembling.

  ‘Tell me I’m wrong? Were you really going to throw yourself in? You’d have gone straight to the bottom with all those layers of skirts and petticoats. Why do such a thing, Mary-Anne? Surely life is not that bad?’ John put his arms around her and held her quivering body next to him. Smelling her hair and thinking how wonderful it was to hold her next to him, even as his concern over her state of mind and what had made her take such a terrible decision grew.

  ‘I … I … I’ve just had enough. I can’t see any point in carrying on. I miss my mother and life is so hard.’ Mary-Anne cried into his shoulder and shook, partly wishing that he had left her to get on with it and partly regretting now she had even thought of taking her own life.

  ‘Mary-Anne, it is the biggest sin of all to take your own life. You’d be burning in the fires of hell if I hadn’t have been here to stop you. How can you be so down on life? You are young and beautiful with all your life in front of you. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted to see you like this and what would Eliza do without you?’ John held her face in his hands and kissed her on the cheek as tears rolled down her face. ‘Not to say how much I’d regret your passing. I had a feeling I’d met my match in life and haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.’ John held her firm as she sobbed on his shoulder.

  ‘I’ve been a fool; it’s just I had a black moment and felt I had no one to turn to. My thoughts had got me into a dark place and I could not escape them.’ Mary-Anne held John close and didn’t want to leave his arms, not wanting to look into the eyes that seemed to be able to read her soul.

  ‘Well, I’m here for you now, and always will be while you need me. I’d have been here earlier but I’ve been working nights down at the wharf, so it’s been all sleep and work.’ John gently held Mary-Anne away from him. ‘Now, dry those eyes, give me a smile and we will not talk about what very nearly happened this morning. The least Eliza knows about this the better, she would only be upset and watch your every move and we can’t have that as I hope to be seeing a bit more of you – alone. We don’t need a chaperone.’ John smiled and wiped a tear away for Mary-Anne’s cheek.

  ‘No, please don’t say anything to Eliza; I wouldn’t want her to worry. She can’t know how I feel. After all it was just a low moment that over took me.’ Mary-Anne coughed, catching her breath, and tried to compose herself.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right now?’ John looked at Mary-Anne and stood back, allowing her time to control the sobs that had shook her body.

  Mary-Anne sniffed and found her handkerchief, blowing her nose loudly.

  ‘I’ve got something that will make Eliza’s day. One of the fashion houses in Leeds had a delivery, but strangely enough they might find themselves short of a few boards of their material, and I helped myself to a pattern book or two that was bound for the same house. I thought it would give her some ideas and keep her out of mischief. I’ll go and pick them up, I dropped them when I saw what you were up to. You’ll not do anything stupid while I go and retrieve them?’ John looked worriedly at Mary-Anne and held her arm.

  Mary-Anne shook her head. ‘No, I’m all right now. Like I said, it was just a moment of weakness. I’m better now … I’ll walk to the towpath with you.’ Mary-Anne reached for her shawl before walking across the bridge with John who retrieved the stolen boards of material from among the brambles and grasses they had fallen into along the canal’s edge.

  She felt embarrassed and slightly stupid that she had been found in such a state, but at the same time she felt excited at the words of affection that John Vasey had said to her. However, that did not resolve her predicament of the baby, and it would certainly complicate her friendship with John if she were to tell him the truth about her low spirits. But now she realised that whatever she had to face, suicide was not the answer, and maybe there was a life to look forward to – perhaps even with John Vasey, if she had not misread the feelings between them.

  ‘Oh, these materials are wonderful, I’ve never seen such fine and delicate fabric.’ Eliza was excited as she felt the rich fabrics beneath her fingertips. She turned her attention to one of the purloined pattern books and read the heading: HAUTE COUTURE FROM THE HOUSE OF WORTH. ‘What’s “Haute Couture”? I’ve never heard of it … sounds a bit posh. Just look at some of the dresses in here!’

  ‘I think it’s French, but look at this advertisement – it looks like they make lots of dresses in different sizes for people to come and look at, instead of making them to the person’s sizing, so they can take them away with them then and there.’ Mary-Anne flicked through the pages of the patterns. ‘Though don’t be thinking that we can go down that route; we haven’t the money, and just look at how intricate and decorated these dresses are.’

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve put temptation in your path, I didn’t mean to,’ John said with a smile. ‘I just thought that you may appreciate an insight in to how the other half lives. Especially now Mary-Anne has told me that you have some of society’s ladies buying from you. Sure, this sort of thing is bound to be up their street.’ John sat back and enjoyed the grins on both girls’ faces as he supped his tea. Despite Eliza’s joy at his offering, he was still worried about her sister. If he’d been a minute or two later along the towpath, it could have been so different. Things did not seem to quite add up as he talked to Mary-Anne on their way back home. She’d less worries financially than she had on his previous visit, and, overall, she and Eliza seemed to have dealt with the death of their mother well. So why contemplate taking her life? Something was not quite right.

  ‘Just listen to this, Mary-Anne.’ Eliza giggled and read an extract from the brochure.


  ‘“The perfect dress for the girl trying to win a suitor’s hand. The sheer gauze embellished with silk flowers and frills of tulle show how pure the wearer is.” What a load of rubbish.’

  ‘If you say so, Eliza.’ Mary-Anne blushed and quickly glanced at John, hoping Eliza would say no more about the wearer of such a dress.

  ‘Seemingly they suggest that you replace your gauze dress after two wearings as the material is so sheer and requires a lot of attention. But the wearing of it makes you feel so special it is worth the price. How the other half lives, indeed; my Sunday best dress is at least two years old, and I’ll still be wearing it this time next year too.’ Eliza put the brochure down and looked across at John, who had not taken his eyes off Mary-Anne since they had arrived together. ‘We haven’t seen you for a while, Mr Vasey; I swear my sister was wondering where you had got to.’ Eliza’s eyes shone with mischief as she looked across at the quiet Irish man.

  ‘As I explained to Mary-Anne, I’ve been working nights. I need to make money for my passage to America later in the year. I’ve also told you both to call me John, let’s not be standing on ceremony. Besides, I aim to see more of your sister if she’s willing.’ John looked across at Mary-Anne and waited for a response.

  ‘That would be most agreeable,’ Mary-Anne said quietly, and looked up at her saviour.

  ‘It would. Just so long as you remember to bring more material on your visits,’ Eliza agreed cheekily.

  ‘Eliza, stop thinking of your pocket. John will be welcome regardless. Do come, with or without material, John.’ Mary-Anne glared at her young sister.

  ‘Well, I’ll have to be away now. I need some shut-eye before my next shift. Your Aunt Patsy asks to be remembered, by the way. She says you’ve to call in next time you are doing business in Leeds.’ John reached for his cap from off the back of the chair, placing it on his head as he stood up in front of both women.