The Mallen Girl

by Catherine Cookson

  Barbara stared up at Miss Brigmore but she did not answer her; she could see that Brigie was furious and all because she was trying to keep something from her, and she imagined it concerned her Aunt Constance and the man called Donald Radlet who had been her husband, but who was Uncle Thomas Mallen’s son.

  She had the strong urge at this moment to say to Brigie, ‘Aunt Constance is a bad woman; she had a picture of her husband’s brother secreted in her collar drawer, and his face looks exactly like Michael’s.’ But no, this was her secret. Unlike this other business however she would not wait until she was given leave to speak about it. When she herself thought the time was ripe she would startle a number of people by asking questions, but most of all she would startle Aunt Constance, that’s if Aunt Constance tried to thwart her.

  ‘If you’ve finished your breakfast go and get ready for the Hall.’

  When Barbara reached her room she walked immediately to her dressing table and, sitting before it, she peered into the glass; and as she looked at her reflection she thought, I know a lot of things other people don’t know; perhaps it’s because of being deaf I notice more. When I am sixteen I shall be very knowledgeable in all ways, I shall know as much as…she was going to say Brigie, but she changed it to Aunt Constance, for she felt that her Aunt Constance knew much more of the world than Brigie did.

  Of a sudden her mood altered. She leaned further toward the mirror and, the lines of her face drooping into sadness, she said to her reflection, ‘Parts of me are not nice and I want every bit of me to be nice so that Michael will love all of me. I want to be kind like Katie, and gentle like—’ She actually started back from the mirror as she checked her mind forming the name Sarah; then, her body slumping, she asked herself, ‘Is that why I hate her? Not only because Michael makes a fuss of her but because she is so different from myself, being of a gentle nature?’ Leaning slightly forward again she peered at herself, then asked in a whisper, ‘Why am I not gentle and kind and loving? But…but I am loving. Oh, yes’—she shook her head as if in denial to a voice accusing her unjustly—‘I am loving, I love Michael; I’ve always loved Michael, I don’t know a time when I didn’t love Michael; and Brigie; yes, I love Brigie, but in a different way; and I love Katie, because it would be hard not to love one so generous as Katie; and I like the boys, particularly John. I…I really like everyone, everyone except that Waite family and…and Aunt Constance.’

  Well—her spine straightened itself—if ever she hoped to have Michael she would have to learn to love Aunt Constance, wouldn’t she, because when she and Michael married they’d all have to live in the same house, wouldn’t they? Not necessarily. In her mind’s eye she saw the picture of her Aunt Constance standing looking at Mr Ferrier.

  She was able to recognise love when she saw it.

  So you see, she nodded at herself, she really did know a lot, much more than anyone else of her age. Perhaps it wasn’t only because she was deaf, perhaps it was because she was a Mallen. Mallens seemed to be different, special because of that streak.

  But Mr Ferrier had recognised her as a Mallen without the streak.

  Wouldn’t it be strange if Mr Ferrier proved to be the solution to her main problem?

  BOOK TWO

  MATILDA BENSHAM

  One

  ‘Now look here, lad; I’m going to put some straight questions to you and I want some straight answers; you’ve buggered me about enough over the last year or so. Why, in the name of God, can’t you be like John there?’

  ‘I can’t be like him because I’m not him, I’m me.’ Dan Bensham leaned over the table toward his father and paused before he finished, ‘And it’s like you to expect people to be of a pattern.’

  ‘Now look here, lad; I’ll have none of that.’ Harry rose from his chair and came round the desk, his arm outstretched, his finger pointing toward his younger son. ‘You can act the man and the big fellow as much as you like among your fancy friends, but just you remember this is my house an’ to me you’re still a nipper, nowt more, just a nipper.’

  ‘Oh, I’m glad to hear that. Yesterday you said I was of an age to know my own mind.’

  ‘Well, so you are. An’ that’s what all this is about. I’ve slaved for years, an’ me father afore me, to build up one of the best mills in Manchester, an’ I’ve got two sons who should be damned glad they’ve got the chance to carry on after me. But here you are nineteen, an’ not knowin’ which bloody end of you’s up. If you had stuck to the idea of goin’ to one of those universities I’d ’ve been with you; aye, I would, but now you come home and tell me you don’t know what you want to do, except you want to travel about until you find out. Well, I’m gonna tell you something, lad; you’re not bloody well travelling about on my money.’

  ‘I can travel without money.’

  ‘Huh! Huh! Listen to him. I’d like to see you.’ Harry now stalked down the room, his arms spread wide; then he turned and came back and faced his son before he continued, ‘Just tell me this. What’s wrong in you goin’ into the mill for a year? It’ll be half yours one day so you should know where your money’s comin’ from an’ how it’s got.’

  Dan didn’t answer for a moment, but stood grinding one fist into the palm of his other hand, and he closed his eyes and his chin dug into his chest as he growled out, ‘That’s just it, I’ve told you; if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times I can’t bear to see them from Monday morning till Saturday night working, working, never stopping…’

  ‘Now look you here, lad, let’s get this straight; my…my people are better cared for than any others in town. Shaftesbury himself couldn’t do more.’

  ‘NO?’

  ‘NO! An’ don’t you insinuate otherwise with that tone of voice. God Almighty! you couldn’t treat me worse if I was a John Bright and opposed nearly every damn reform along the line. Look what I’ve done over the last few years, aye, an’ long afore that, long afore seventy-four I was ahead of me time for I never took a workhouse apprentice in if they were under ten, lass or lad, and then I raised it to twelve.’

  ‘Because it became law.’

  ‘Bugger you for an aggravating young snot. I could have kept it to ten an’ been better thought of by other owners. I’ve been blacklisted by some of them, do you know that? Blacklisted, me! Now I’m tellin’ you, lad, you’d better watch out else you’ll find yourself lying on your back, as cocky as you are.’

  As father and son, similar in build and appearance, only different in age and not all that different in temperament, glared at each other, John’s voice broke in on them quietly now, addressing Dan and saying, ‘If you’re so troubled by the conditions why don’t you do as Father suggests and give it a trial, find out where improvements are necessary and put them forward?’

  Harry cast his enraged glance now toward his elder son as he cried, ‘Now there’s sense, there’s sense; see for yourself what goes on afore you start condemnin’ wholesale out of hand.’ He looked at Dan again, then letting out a long slow breath that deflated his body he said in a slightly calmer tone, ‘And if you go off now what effect do you think it’s goin’ to have on your mother, and her bad as she is? And you know she’s bad, don’t you?’ His voice sank lower still as he ended, ‘Real bad.’

  Dan’s head was level now, and he asked tersely, ‘What do you mean, real bad?’

  ‘Just what I say.’

  ‘But the operation, it was a success.’

  ‘For the time being, for the time being; but you might as well know, both of you’—he cast a glance toward John before lowering his head—‘her days are numbered, they’re fast runnin’ out.’

  John rose hastily from where he had been sitting near the end window of the library, and he came and stood near Dan, and they both stared at their father, and he at them; and then he nodded slowly.

  After a moment the two brothers glanced at each other, then Dan went to the fireplace and, putting his forearm on the mantelshelf, he leaned his head on it, and he did no
t lift it until he heard his father say, ‘That’s why I’ve stayed back here more than usual of late, an’ that’s why I wanted the both of you at the mill; not just one, it takes more than one to run a place like that. I wanted you both to get the hang of it under Rington afore he retires, an’ believe me that won’t be soon enough to please my book. I’ve never relied on him, not fully, since he almost let that strike sweep our place. If it hadn’t been for young Willy havin’ his wits about him it would have an’ all. Willy could take over the morrow ’cos he could buy and sell Rington in lots of ways, but then don’t forget he was one of themsel’s, and even the best of them’ll take advantage if there’s not a bit of class at the top; aye, class’—he nodded his head slowly before he went on—‘like you would provide.’ He held their gaze, then said lamely, ‘It was different in my case an’ that of me dad. We grew with it, we were part of the machinery you could say; but we made something. It mightn’t be the biggest mill but it’s always been my ambition to make it the best in the town, an’ not only in turning out the cloth but for the conditions in which it’s turned out, an’ so it hurts me, lad, when I’m accused of neglecting me own folk.’ Harry now nodded sharply toward Dan, and on this emotional and strategic point he left the room.

  After a moment the two brothers turned and looked squarely at each other; then John said quietly, ‘’Tisn’t too bad, not too bad at all, you get used to it.’

  ‘I’ll never get used to it. The place itself, the town, the muck, Oh God, the muck!’

  ‘Well, you’ve got no need to go where the muck is, that’s up to you. We live almost two miles away from the muck, as you call it.’

  ‘They live like…I was going to say cattle but cattle are clean. Have you seen how they live?’

  ‘Yes, of course I have.’

  ‘And didn’t it affect you?’

  ‘It’s awful, but what can you do? I mean you can’t reform the whole town, not at one go. They’ve pulled a lot of places down and are rebuilding.’

  ‘Yes, and what? I saw some of the rebuildings, streets and streets of houses no bigger than huts.’

  ‘They’re clean, new, and some of them have water laid on in the backyards.’

  The scathing expression on Dan’s face caused John to wet his lips and flush slightly, and when Dan repeated, ‘Some of them have water laid on in the backyards,’ then added, ‘and some of them haven’t; and some of them still throw their filth into the street,’ he cried angrily, ‘They’re not all like that, you’ve only seen half the picture. There’s lots of our folks whose places are as clean as it’s possible for them to be.’

  ‘You’ve said it’—Dan’s voice had risen too—‘“as it is possible for them to be.” And look, you’re blaming me as much as he is, but I ask you this, why did he move us here in the first place, miles away from grime of any kind, right into the heart of the country, this wild country, fresh air, hills and rivers all about us, and then expect us to go back into Manchester? All right, all right, we’ve got a house on the outskirts—like all the rest of the wise merchants—but even there you can’t get away from the filth, their fancy buildings, their churches, their assembly rooms, the lot; to me they still reek of the filth, for they were built out of filth.’

  John stared at his brother whom he cared for dearly. Dan was almost a head shorter than himself in height but thicker in stature, and he had a spark, a vitality that he himself lacked; he also had the power to express himself on all subjects whether taboo or not. Yet in a way he was indolent, and of course too he was idealistic. This last trait created the Manchester conflict. He said quietly, ‘It’s because of Blake’s “Dark Satanic Mills” that we’ve been able to enjoy the fresh air, and the hills and the streams; you mustn’t forget that.’

  A slow smile now spread over Dan’s face for, as usual, he had regained his temper quickly, and he said on a laugh, ‘Trust you to bring everything down to earth and plain facts.’

  ‘Well, isn’t it better so?’

  It was a moment before Dan asked flatly, ‘What am I going to do?’

  ‘Well, if you’ll take my advice you’ll do as he says and give it a chance, and…and also, if as he says Mother’s so ill, well you couldn’t possibly go away now even if he gave you the money.’

  Dan turned and looked into the fire again, and then he muttered, ‘What’ll we do if Mother goes?’

  ‘I don’t know; we’ll have to wait and see.’

  For a time they were both silent, then John glanced at his watch and said, ‘I’ll have to be going.’

  ‘Where to?’ Dan looked at where John was walking slowly toward the door.

  ‘I promised to ride over to the farm with Barbara.’

  ‘Since when have you taken to accompanying Madam when she goes a-visiting the lord of the hills?’

  ‘It appears that Brigie won’t let her go over on her own since she was lost in the mist that time…’

  ‘And so she’s making use of you?’

  ‘And so she’s making use of me.’

  ‘How do you feel playing second fiddle to the farmer?’

  ‘I didn’t know I was playing the fiddle at all.’

  Dan went toward John now and he did not put the question until he was level with him. ‘You serious about Barbara?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘No.’

  The answer was firm and definite, and caused Dan’s face to stretch as he repeated, ‘No? Then Brigie’s going to have a surprise, isn’t she?’

  ‘Brigie’s not such a fool.’

  ‘Brigie is a fool where Madam is concerned. Brigie’s determined you’ll marry her long-loved child and you’ll all live here happy ever after.’ He waved his hand above his head.

  ‘Don’t talk rubbish. Brigie hasn’t been with Barbara all these years not to know there’s one person and one person only on her horizon, and that’s the farmer.’

  ‘Oh, Brigie knows that, and Barbara knows that, and I know that, and you know that; there’s only one person who doesn’t know it and that’s the fair farmer himself.’

  ‘What do you mean? He…he’s devoted to her.’

  ‘Yes, in a brotherly fashion, like we all are, but I’ll lay a hundred to one now that he doesn’t marry her, and you do. I’d bet my last penny on Brigie.’

  At this John put his head back and laughed quietly as he said, ‘Make it two hundred.’

  ‘Done! What about a time limit?’

  ‘A year today.’

  ‘A year today it is.’

  They were smiling as they walked out into the hall; then they both looked slightly embarrassed when their eyes alighted on the subject of their discussion. Barbara had just come in from the front porch and Armstrong was already helping Miss Brigmore off with her coat.

  After greetings had been exchanged Miss Brigmore looked at John and said, ‘It’s a beautiful day, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your ride; but bring her back early mind, well before dusk sets in.’

  ‘Never fear; I’m too careful of my own skin to come across those hills in the dark.’

  ‘What did you say?’ It was Barbara looking at John now, but it was Dan who answered for him. Rapidly on his fingers he repeated what John had said, and Barbara answered with her fingers. Then speaking verbally to John in a throaty muffled voice, she said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.’

  John laughed as he turned away, saying to Miss Brigmore. ‘Excuse me a moment, I’ll just say goodbye to Mother.’

  Now looking Barbara straight in the face, Miss Brigmore said, ‘Give your Aunt Constance my warm regards, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes, Brigie.’

  ‘And tell her I shall try to get across next week, weather permitting of course.’ She turned to Dan with a smile saying, ‘It’s always weather permitting here. Isn’t it strange how our lives are ruled by the weather? How’s your mother this morning?’

  ‘She seemed a little better, quite lively.’ And he had thought she was. But he felt slightly sick now with the weight of his present knowl
edge.

  ‘Oh, I’m glad.’ Miss Brigmore nodded and smiled. She had no doubt but at the moment of death Matilda would appear quite lively. Of late years she had come to admire Matilda Bensham more and more, and there had grown in her a deep affection for the woman who was, after all, her mistress.

  She spoke to Barbara again, saying, ‘Now take care, won’t you?’ then turned and went toward the stairs.

  Dan, left alone with Barbara, looked at her quizzically for a moment before saying on his fingers, ‘Come and wait in the drawing room.’

  ‘He won’t be a minute,’ she answered verbally.

  ‘You never know with John. Anyway, you can come and sit down.’

  When they entered the room Barbara sat down on an occasional chair not far from the door, which caused Dan, still speaking to her on his fingers, to say, ‘That’s it, don’t come right in, you’ll have farther to run.’

  Before answering him she tossed her head to one side; then said, ‘Don’t be silly,’ and made to rise, but he checked her with an exaggerated movement, saying, ‘Oh, don’t get up; you make me less embarrassed when you’re sitting; we’re of a height then.’ He surveyed her teasingly, his head on one side; then stretching out his arm, he spaced his thumb and finger as he said, ‘I suppose you are about two inches taller than me now, and if you keep on growing until you’re twenty-one, just imagine what you’ll be like then, a beanstalk!’

  ‘And if you don’t grow any more just imagine what you’ll be like then.’

  This brisk sparring was always the tone of the conversation between them, whether with gesture or lips, and seemed at times to border on open hostility.

  ‘You going to see the farmer?’

  ‘Who else?’

  ‘You’re making a convenience of John.’