Workhouse Waif

by Elizabeth Keysian

  She walked deliberately across to Jamie’s desk and gave him her coldest look. “It seems a shame,” she said softly, “to waste all the effort you have already put into your work. If you pick up that paper, I will sit and discuss your difficulties with you. Then we can fetch a fresh piece, and you can show me how good your writing is when you really try.”

  The boy looked almost tempted. His teacher had given him a way out where neither of them would lose face. But he didn’t want to be in school any more. He knew there were older boys now out in the fields with Farmer Adam’s workers, leading the horses and breathing in the dust from the newly cut straw. He wanted to be with them. About now they’d be lounging in the shade, with the older men lighting their pipes and passing the sticky cider jar from hand to hand. And at the end of the day, he could have gone home to his mother with shiny coins clinking in his pocket, full of manly usefulness and self-importance.

  Crossly, he kicked the leg of his desk and growled, “I don’t care!”

  Quick as a flash Bella swung the cane onto his exposed knuckles. As he roared and brought his hand to his mouth, she seized the other one and gave his open palm a sharp whack as well. As the tears of pain and wounded pride came, the rest of the class let out a sigh. Their teacher had done what was expected.

  Bella walked back to her desk in silence, not looking to one side or the other. She sat there for a moment, her features still, staring over the heads of the children at the large clock on the wall. Then in a voice as level as she could manage, she said, “You can go off to lunch now—we’ll finish this up after.”

  She must never let them see how much it had cost her to hurt one of the children, how close she was to tears herself. She was used to brutality in the workhouse but had hoped to avoid it here. Pray God she would never have to birch anyone again. As soon as the children had left the room, she hurtled up to Mrs Day’s in hopes of recovering in a quiet corner.

  But she was met with a scowl by her landlady.

  “What’s the matter, Mrs Day?”

  “I didn’t have time to make you a bite, girl. Mary’s just been round with the news. Oh, it’s a bad business, but they always was a wild family.”

  “What’s a bad business? What’s happened?”

  Mrs Day shook her head, seemingly overwhelmed by someone else’s tragedy, so Bella took herself off to the kitchen to butter some bread and cut some cheese for her lunch. The kettle hadn’t even been put on, but then Mrs Day used any excuse nowadays to be lazy.

  Bella perched on the edge of a chair, bit into her food and waited for Mrs Day to recover.

  “Well,” she told her, her eyes round with drama. “It’s to do with Marie Froggatt.”

  Bella stopped chewing. Just the mention of that name had the power to spoil her appetite.

  “She’s only gone and got herself knocked up. You know, don’t come all prim with me. Pregnant… with child.”

  “Oh.” Bella tried to look concerned—the opposite of what she was feeling. It serves her right! Oh yes, it serves her right!

  “Aye. Someone up at Merriwether’s place, no doubt. Though how they found the chance I’ve no idea—she’s worked off her feet night and day there, poor child. They’ve thrown her out on her ear of course.”

  Bella took another bite. Better and better!

  “Betty Froggatt’s beside herself. She’s got no man, you see, and that money coming in from Marie was a godsend. There’s still the little mouths to feed, so how can she cope with another? It’ll be back to the workhouse for Marie, and her babe, if they can’t make ends meet.”

  “Maybe they’ll all have to go into the workhouse.”

  “Shame on you, girl! How can you say that so calm-like when you’ve been in it yourself? If you don’t want to go back there, you shouldn’t wish it on anyone else.”

  “I’m not wishing it on them. I’m just saying—it’s something to fall back on if they’re desperate.”

  “They’d have to be at the end of their tether I reckon. Folk around here don’t rate the Union—they’re all used to making their own way in the factories, and have comfortable living compared to the institution. Why, there was one poor fellow found in a barn last winter, just to the north of town, all barefoot and cold and starving. He wouldn’t go on the Parish until they forced him, and he never lived to tell the tale. I reckon the family’ll try and pull together. There’s Bea’s Phoebe, of course, big, bold girl, easily old enough to manage a carder or a loom. She could bring in some money. And I hear an old friend of Marie’s is coming to Warbury—maybe she can help out a bit if they’re really close.”

  “Friend?”

  “Girl—how many times have I told you to use a plate when you’re eating, and not to talk with your mouth full? Yes, friend. Annie Tullard, one of the Tullards as used to be in Weaver’s Row. I gather she was in the same poor house with Marie some years ago. It’s a sign of improving times that she can come out here on her own—she must have a lot of guts to do it, mind. Yes, I can see you’re shocked by the news, and so you should be. You wouldn’t like anything to happen to you like that, now, would you?”

  There was a pause, and Mrs Day thought Bella was considering her answer, although it should have been obvious.

  “Would you?”

  Bella shook her head and said, “Oh no, no, of course not.”

  “Well, I didn’t mean to make you look so miserable, I’m sure. Perhaps you’d feel better if you went over there and offered to help. Do a bit of cleaning or sewing for the children, something like that.”

  Bella spat out, “Nothing on earth would ever get me into the Froggatt house!”

  “Oh, I see. Beneath you, is it? Well, wait and see when I tell them what you said. They’ll think you an ungrateful snob, they will—too fine for working people.”

  “I’m not too fine for working people! I come from the Union myself, remember. It’s just that there’s deserving and undeserving, and I doubt the Froggatts are deserving.”

  Mrs Day seemed mollified by this remark. “Yes, well, the girls do seem to be rather forward if you ask me. That Phoebe’s got her eye on Kenneth Jackson, and her only fourteen if she’s a day. I reckon that affair will be nipped in the bud now her cousin’s been brought so low.”

  “If Phoebe’s mother is only Marie’s Aunt, why should she be bothered about Marie’s baby? It’s not her problem, is it?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to understand—you’ve no family of your own. Family’s the best thing a body could have. They’re always there when you need them, and you’re there for them too. It’s something to fall back on in hard times and share the good times with. I had no living kin till I married Mr Day, and then I was taken into his family and good folk they were—even though they was no more than miners, most of them, over in Somerset. Salt of the earth, they were, salt of the earth.”

  “So where are they all now? Why was there no one to look after you when you got sick? Why do you have to depend on me?”

  “Don’t try being smart, girl. Lord, I don’t know what’s got into you this afternoon—you’re as tetchy as a flea on the range. There was a pit collapse. Them that made it out were crippled or sick with the dust in their chests, and they’ve been brought low, very low. It wouldn’t be Christian of me to be a burden on them now. I just have to manage with you.”

  Bella dusted some crumbs from her skirt. She knew now not to expect any gratitude from this woman. But Annie Tullard coming to Warbury—it was too much! She must write to Miss Ainsty, yes—a letter was long overdue—and find out if she knew anything about it. She needed to share her feelings with someone. Not that she was afraid of Annie, nor even Annie and Marie together—she had friends here now, and she was someone of importance, so maybe there didn’t have to be a problem. But she hadn’t forgiven Annie for that flogging, oh no. She would need a lot more attending church, and seeking advice from Miss Ainsty if she was to be certain of keeping her temper should they ever meet. And maybe she could talk it over
with Jack—he seemed gentle enough when he wasn’t being too serious about his machines, and they’d had a laugh together. So maybe she could talk to him when she saw him again. But would he come to her, or would she have to go to him?

  It was far too easy to do the wrong thing in this complicated new world.

  Chapter 27

  Phoebe had returned to school that afternoon red-eyed from crying. An extra wage was needed to keep the family through their time of trouble, and she’d be forced to leave the school soon, ready to start in the mill.

  “Oh, Miss.” she whined to Bella. “They say you have to go in your underclothes because it gets so hot in there, and a lot of them have bare feet, so they don’t slip over on the oil. And you have to wear a horrible cap to keep your hair out of the way. What will Ken think of me then?”

  Feeling some sympathy for the girl whose hopes of better things had been dashed, Bella said, “You’re too young to worry about Kenneth Jackson and what he thinks. If what you look like is all he cares about, then his regard’s not worth a farthing. It may not have to be forever anyway—Marie will be able to find some sort of work after she’s had the baby. Then you can come back to the school as a monitor, or if you like the factory, you can move on to better things in the same business.”

  “Do you think so, Miss?”

  “Anything’s possible, Phoebe. Now, pull the piano out—I feel in the mood for a bit of music this afternoon. I know Mrs Day was teaching you, and it must be high time for a public performance.”

  They could all use cheering up, after Jamie Creegan’s behaviour that morning. He hadn’t returned to school after lunch.

  Just as Bella was pondering what to do about this, his mother burst into the classroom.

  “A word with you, teacher—outside.” It wasn’t a request, but a demand.

  Bella looked into the glassy, staring eyes. Vicious through and through, and stupid with it. Well, she wouldn’t go, not when spoken to like that in front of the children.

  “Hetta? Start putting the children through the steps of a simple reel. Phoebe will see what’s in the book. Now, Mrs Creegan—I’m busy right now, as you can see, but I’ll be happy to have a word with you later if you call back after school.”

  “Not later. Now! It’s about my Jamie.” The woman thrust her pock-marked face close to Bella’s, and she could smell the gin already on the woman’s breath. She must be a liability in the factory.

  “As I said before, now is not the time. I’ve forty children here, and I’m their teacher. I can’t just abandon them.”

  “I’m not budging. We’ll sort it out here if you’d rather—no need to go outside.”

  The woman, although short, was thick-set and muscular. If the drink hadn’t taken the edge off her, she could have been a female wrestler or a boxer. This thought took some of the shine off Bella’s courage.

  “I’m sure we can sort this out without a show. But if you insist, I’ll come out, just for a minute or two—to put your mind at rest.”

  “Don’t you talk down to me, you stuffed-up cow,” the woman muttered under her breath as Bella followed her out into the street. Then she turned, and setting her jaw, she said, “You had no right to thump my Jamie.”

  “I did not thump your Jamie. I had to give him a couple of whacks on the hand. It’s the usual punishment, as I’m sure you must know.”

  “Why are you teachers always at him? He can’t help what he is. He don’t take to learning easy and neither did I, nor his father, so it ain’t his fault. He’s just a baby. I know he’s no saint, but I sort him out at home. I’m his mother—I’ve a right to thrash him now and then, but I’ve always a reason. Just answering back to the teacher, that’s not a reason. If you have a problem with him, you complain to me, and I’ll punish him how I see fit. But you ask me first, and I’ll be the judge of whether he needs the rod or not. Just because he couldn’t do his lesson and answered you back—”

  “It’s a case of keeping discipline in the class, Mrs Creegan. There are rules and—”

  “Don’t you argue with me, young lady! Who the hell do you think you are? I’ve told you, I’ll deal with him. I can’t say fairer than that.”

  “You’re not being fair on me, or the rest of the class. I can’t make exceptions. They’ve all got to be treated the same.”

  Phoebe had started playing the piano, a lively if slightly out-of-tune reel, and the ungraceful thump of the children’s feet could be heard through the closed schoolroom doors. The sound was at odds with the rising tempers of the two women outside.

  “Now don’t you come all clever with me, Miss! I’ve given you fair warning.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “I’ll do more than that.”

  Bella’s temper was fraying. “I’ve had enough. This is getting us nowhere. I’m going back in to do my job. Good day to you.” As she turned her back on the bristling little woman, she felt a hard tug on her sleeve, and as she spun around, furious that the woman had laid a finger on her, she felt herself pulled forwards, and the woman’s fist connected with her jaw.

  “Hey, there! That’s enough!” A sharp shout rang out as Bella reeled, clutching her face and trying to get her breath back from the shock. Someone charged across the road and seized Mrs Creegan by the shoulders and shook her vigorously.

  “What did you do that for? There’s no excuse for that. You idiot of a woman.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  Mrs Creegan hung limply in Jack’s grasp, all the fight gone out of her.

  His face was white with fury, but he kept his voice level. “Don’t apologise to me—apologise to her. And don’t even think of coming near her again, you hear me?”

  Bella’s hands fumbled behind her, and she found the wall and held onto it, amazed at the effect Jack’s words had on Mrs Creegan. She looked as if she were almost afraid of him. Roughly, he thrust the woman away and wiped his hands on his trousers while Mrs Creegan whispered a feeble apology to Bella before hurrying away.

  Bella tried to smile. “Well, you put her in her place, good and proper. Did you hear it all?”

  “No, but I saw that last little bit. I was just having a breather when I heard the music, so I stuck my head around the gate to see what it was.”

  “I was about to give it back to her, you know. I won’t stand being talked to like that.”

  His lips quirked up. “So, you didn’t relish my interference? I’m not a knight in shining armour after all? What a pity.”

  “You do talk funny sometimes. You sound just like one of the gentry folk.”

  “Who you don’t approve of, because they have servants and put on airs—or whatever it was you said.”

  “Oh, some of them are alright. Look, I must get back to the children.”

  “Give yourself a moment. Your face is still red. Does it hurt?”

  “I’ve had worse knocks than that. I’ll get over it. No, don’t look at me like that. I don’t need your pity.”

  “Well, you really are riled today, Miss Hart. But yes, I suppose you’d better get back to your lesson. What are you about?”

  “Oh, they’re dancing. And I thought Phoebe needed cheering up. There’s trouble in her family.”

  “I know about that.” He opened his mouth to say more, then paused, and gazed at the schoolhouse door. “I’d like to come in and see them dancing.”

  “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

  “You’re making excuses. Don’t you want me to see how a schoolteacher works? It would be an education for me. And maybe I can help.”

  Bella sank back against the door, then opened it. “Very well, come in. But you’re to behave yourself, understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The children all looked up in amazement when Jack entered the room. The laughing and hooting stopped as they stood to attention. Bella felt proud—she didn’t realise she’d taught her class such good manners. This would be something
to tell Mrs Day, who was always getting at her for her ‘workhouse ways.’

  Another dance was begun, and Jack settled himself to one side to watch while Bella called the steps. The children soon forgot the presence of the workman in their midst as they hopped and skipped, and bumped into each other, and fell about, giggling at their own antics. Jack was grinning at the spectacle—she wanted to as well. It was a welcome distraction from the heated scene that had happened outside.

  After a while, Jack said he wanted to join in. He and Bella together, he said, would set an example to the children of how to do it. Someone else could call the steps—knowing her skill at teaching, there must be someone who could read the book well enough to shout them out.

  She thought it was a daft idea and wondered what he was playing at, but he rolled up his sleeves, before bowing dramatically in front of her and holding out his hand. “Go on, just the one,” he said. “It’ll cheer you up after Mrs Red-Nose.”

  She felt a laugh coming, but she pushed it away. All the children were looking at her now, so to save him embarrassment, she took Jack’s hand and curtseyed, and then they were off.

  They kept on dancing. She’d never smiled so much or felt such warmth welling up inside her, and she wished the children a million miles away so she could just enjoy the thrill of her first time ever dancing with a man. By the end of the lesson, she’d all but forgotten the horrors of Jamie and Mrs Creegan.

  “You’re a good dancer,” she told Jack after she’d dismissed the class, and he was helping her tidy the books and things away.

  “Thanks for the compliment. You’re not so bad yourself. You’ll be well in demand at the Summer Dance.”

  “Oh, oh, the Summer Dance. I won’t go. I don’t I know enough people yet.”