There was a tap at the door then and Tommy shouted, ‘I’ve put my things away. What are you two doing in there?’
‘We’ll be out in a second,’ Sunday called back. Then, lowering her voice, she whispered to Daisy, ‘Dry your eyes now. We need to go on as if nothing is wrong. Can you do that for me?’
Daisy sniffed and swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her shapeless dress as she nodded.
‘Promise you won’t let them lock me away in Hatter’s Hall?’ she said in a tiny voice. Somehow now that Sunday knew her shameful secret she felt slightly better, although the prospect of being sent to the asylum still terrified her. She had already vowed that she would kill herself before that happened.
‘Of course I won’t!’ Sunday gave her another loving hug. ‘That’s it,’ she said approvingly when Daisy had pulled herself together. ‘Now we’re going to go down and put a cheerful face on things, eh?’
‘I . . . I’ll try,’ Daisy promised with a watery smile and hand in hand the two girls left the room.
Sunday showed them all around the house. She took them outside and Tommy crowed with delight when he saw the empty pigsties and the overgrown gardens.
‘It’s a bit late to be tryin’ to plant anything now,’ he said, ‘but there’s plenty of work to do getting the beds ready for the spring. And then there’ll be the animals to tend to as well, when we get some.’
He at least looked as happy as a cat that had got the cream, even more so when Mabel came bounding outside to join them. She skidded to a halt when she saw the strangers but after sniffing them suspiciously her tail began to wag and she allowed Tommy to fuss her.
‘We had a dog when we lived at home, didn’t we, Dais?’ His eyes became sad as he remembered their little mongrel, Dickens. ‘But then when we got taken into the workhouse after Mam died, one of the neighbours promised to take him in. I hope she took good care of him.’
‘I’m sure she would have,’ Sunday said, sensing his pain. ‘But now let’s go and scrounge something to eat off Annie. She’s the most marvellous cook and now that Daisy is here to help I shall be having even more lessons off her.’
They trooped back inside and were soon tucking into scones straight from the oven.
‘Blimey, that were good.’ Tommy licked his lips appreciatively and rubbed his stomach. After the appalling food they had been served at the workhouse he felt as if he might have died and gone to heaven. ‘I reckon I might just go and have a scout round in the outhouse to see what gardening tools there are,’ he said when he’d swallowed a second cup of tea. ‘Then I might make a start on clearing the vegetable plot, if that’s all right?’
‘Well, that’s what yer ’ere for, lad,’ Annie told him. She’d already taken to Tommy but the lass seemed a different kettle of fish altogether. She’d barely said a word – but then, thought Annie, she was probably just a bit shy and overawed at her new surroundings. She’d come out of her shell in time, no doubt.
‘So how do you fancy cleanin’ some windows?’ she asked and was pleased when Daisy nodded obligingly.
‘I’m happy to do whatever needs doing, missus.’
‘Just Annie will do, lass, an’ you’ll find the bucket over there along with everything you’ll need. You might do the front steps an’ all while yer at it. Young Sunday here’s been so excited all mornin’ that she ain’t got round to ’em yet.’
Daisy instantly did as she was told without a murmur and when Sunday entered the kitchen some minutes later Annie remarked, ‘Young Daisy is a quiet little thing, ain’t she? Is she allus like that?’
‘Oh, I suppose it’s just because everything is strange to her. She’ll soon settle in,’ Sunday answered hastily and was relieved when Annie let the subject drop.
Later that afternoon, Mrs Spooner summoned Daisy and Tommy to the drawing room and laid down her house rules.
‘You’ll both get Sunday afternoon off,’ she told them. ‘And a few hours on Sunday mornin’ an’ all if yer want to go to church. I expect yer both to do what you’re asked an’ show respect to me lodgers. Keep yer rooms tidy an’ go to bed at a respectable time. An’ no bringin’ friends back here, mind!’
Both young people seemed more than happy with that. They’d both worked well since their arrival and now Biddy was feeling very positive about Sunday’s suggestion, so much so that she had already written a sign for the front window advertising three more rooms.
‘I shall be very choosy who I allow to stay though,’ she told Annie. ‘We don’t want any riff-raff here. I run a respectable house.’
Annie grinned and on the way back to the kitchen allowed herself a reflection. She could still remember the time when Biddy had run the streets barefoot, one of a horde of children who were all packed into two rooms with their mam and dad. All that had changed when Biddy married Herbert Spooner, and he’d whisked her away to live overseas in the West Indies. She’d come back considering herself a lady and now she wore her respectability like a cloak. Annie couldn’t blame her really and they had stayed close friends throughout the years despite Biddy’s changed circumstances. Sadly, the one thing Biddy had craved most but didn’t get was a family, whereas Annie herself had given birth to eleven of the little devils. Not that she regretted it. Annie’s brood were all grown and flown the nest now but she had happy memories of their childhoods even if there had been times when she hadn’t known where the next ha’penny was coming from. Life was strange, there was no doubt about it, she often thought.
By mid-afternoon every downstairs window was glinting in the late-September sunshine and the front step was so clean Annie told Daisy she was sure she could have eaten her dinner off it. She still didn’t quite know what to make of the girl. She was the total opposite to Sunday, being rather reserved and quiet, and she didn’t look at all well – but then Annie supposed that Sunday hadn’t either when she’d first arrived. It was probably nothing that a few helpings of good wholesome food and a dollop of fresh air wouldn’t cure.
After serving Mrs Spooner and the lodgers they all ate together in the kitchen that evening and Annie saw Tommy’s face transform at the sight of the steak and kidney pie she had cooked for them. There was apple crumble and thick creamy custard to follow and Tommy ate so much that Annie feared he would make himself ill. He’d come in from the garden thick with mud shortly before and promptly been sent away to wash at the pump in the yard by Annie.
‘I’ll not ’ave you traipsin’ mud all over me nice clean floor, young man,’ she had scolded him, much to Sunday’s amusement when she thought back to the state the floor had been in when she first arrived.
When the meal was over Sunday cleared the dirty pots from the dining room while Daisy washed them and Tommy dried them for her. Daisy then re-laid the table ready for breakfast the next morning and between them they had the chores done in no time.
Daisy and Tommy were yawning by then. They hadn’t adjusted to being away from the workhouse routine yet and were usually tucked up in bed by that time.
‘You two go up to bed. I’ll be up too, in a minute,’ Sunday encouraged and off they went, keen to spend their first night for a long time in a comfortable bed.
There was not a murmur from Tommy’s room when Sunday went up some time later but when she paused outside Daisy’s room she could hear her crying, so she tapped on the door and whispered, ‘Dais – can I come in?’
She found her friend huddled into a ball on the bed and she went and sat next to her.
‘It’s so unfair,’ Daisy sniffed. ‘This should have been one o’ the happiest days of me life but what’s goin’ to happen when Mrs Spooner finds out I’m havin’ a baby, Sunday? She’ll pack me off to Hatter’s Hall for sure.’
‘But it’s not your fault,’ Sunday said hotly. ‘Pinnegar took advantage of you just as he did to Cissie and me – and countless other girls before us, no doubt.’
‘Huh! An’ who will everyone believe if we say that?’ Daisy sighed. ‘It’s no use, Sunday, I should run
away before they find out.’
‘Oh yes? And live on what – fresh air? No, you must stay put while we decide what’s best to do. I reckon I’m going to speak to Lady Huntley. She knows what Pinnegar did to Cissie so she’ll believe you too. And perhaps if there are three of us who are prepared to stand up and say what he did, the guardians just might have to do something about it. Would you be brave enough to do that, Daisy?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Daisy said chokily. Just the thought of the workhouse master could make her break out in a cold sweat.
‘Well, one thing’s for sure, we can’t do anything tonight so let’s just try and get some sleep, eh?’ Sunday pulled the warm woollen blankets up to Daisy’s chin; there was a nip in the air at nights now, a sure sign that winter was just around the corner. ‘Sleep tight,’ she murmured and crept from the room.
She tossed and turned for most of the night as she thought of the dilemma Daisy was in but finally her eyes grew heavy and she slept at last.
The next morning, she found both her friends already washed and dressed and waiting on the landing for her when she left her room.
‘Blimey, you’re eager,’ she teased. ‘Come on, let’s go and get the fires started so we can have some breakfast. Annie likes the kitchen to be warm by the time she gets here.’
Once downstairs, Sunday pointed Tommy in the direction of the log store while she filled the kettle and fetched the bread from the pantry.
‘Once Tommy’s got the fire going we’ll do us some warm toast and have it with a nice hot cup of tea before breakfast,’ she told Daisy. The girl obviously hadn’t slept a wink and looked dreadful.
Annie bustled in at just after seven o’clock to a cosy kitchen and a pot of tea waiting for her and she smiled her approval. Over the last couple of weeks she’d taken to coming in early again although there was no need, and Sunday supposed it was because she got lonely on her own.
‘I reckon I’m going to like havin’ you two here,’ she grinned as she slid out of her coat and into her voluminous apron. ‘Now which of yer is goin’ to pour me a cuppa afore we get started?’
It was mid-morning before Sunday got the chance to have a word alone to Daisy.
‘I’ve been thinking about your situation,’ she said. Daisy looked terrified so Sunday touched her hand and hurried on, ‘But I’m not going to say anything for a couple of weeks or so. I want Mrs Spooner to see what hard workers you and Tommy are first. You must only be very early on. How many courses have you missed?’
‘Just the one,’ Daisy whispered. ‘Nearly two now, but me chest is tender and I feel really sick in the morning now.’
‘Right then, you’re certainly not showing yet so let’s bide our time, eh? To my reckoning the baby won’t be due till early in April.’
Daisy shuddered. ‘I hate this thing that’s growing inside me because it’s a part of the man who forced himself on me. I know even now that I will never love it!’
She burst into sobs and Sunday’s mouth set in a grim line. ‘I’ll look after you, Daisy,’ she said. ‘And then we’re going to make sure that Pinnegar finally gets what’s coming to him so that he can never do this to another girl again.’
She looked so angry and determined that Daisy didn’t doubt her for a second.
Chapter Twenty-Six
By the first week in October, Daisy, Tommy and Sunday had got into a routine and everything was running smoothly. The mornings and evenings were dark now so Tommy would be the first up to light all the fires for them. Daisy had taken on the laundry and some of the cleaning and now Sunday had more time to spend with Annie, who was teaching her how to cook various dishes and desserts. Tommy had almost cleared the vegetable patch and was now busily repairing the hen coops in readiness for some chickens and getting the sties cleaned out for some pigs. He’d also made a start on the stable roof that had fallen into disrepair so that Mrs Spooner could purchase a small pony to pull her dog cart once again. In addition, he had painted the front door a lovely cheery red and the window-frames white. The Lodge now looked as good as new.
A young nurse who had started work at the local hospital had joined them in one of the formerly empty rooms, and Daisy and Sunday found it amusing that Jacob seemed to be quite taken with her, although she was engaged to one of the doctors. Sunday was over the crush she had had on Jacob when she first arrived now, thankfully. The only dark spot on the horizon was Daisy’s condition, which still hadn’t been addressed. Sunday was hoping to leave it as long as she could before telling her employer what had happened, but that decision was taken out of her hands one morning when Annie breezed in unexpectedly just as Daisy returned from the outside privy looking ‘like death warmed up’, to use Annie’s term.
‘You’ve been lookin’ peaky ever since yer arrived. Are yer often sick in the mornin’s?’ she enquired suspiciously. There wasn’t much that slipped past Annie.
Daisy stared at Sunday, too terrified to utter a word and Sunday knew that the game was up. They had no choice but to tell her now.
‘W-well . . .’ Daisy stammered.
Annie shook her head. ‘You’ve no need to say any more, lass. I guessed yer condition wi’in a couple o’ days of yer bein’ here,’ she said regretfully.
Daisy burst into tears then and Sunday hurried across the room to put a protective arm about her. ‘It’s not her fault,’ she said heatedly. ‘It was Pinnegar again, the housemaster at the workhouse. The one I told you about who had Cissie put into Hatter’s Hall.’
‘I see.’ Annie looked appalled. She believed every word that Sunday said and Daisy certainly didn’t look like the sort of girl that would give away favours. She was only a slip of a kid, poor lass. To Annie’s mind they should chop the dirty old bugger’s pecker off!
‘Well, we’ll have to get it sorted, lass,’ she told Daisy sensibly as the girl sobbed in Sunday’s arms. ‘It ain’t somethin’ that yer can hide fer much longer an’ the missus needs to know about it. Do you want me to go in an’ have a word to her for you? I’ll make sure as she knows it weren’t your fault.’
‘No, thanks, Annie, I’ll do it,’ Sunday told her decisively. ‘And then we have to decide what we can do to stop this happening again. Pinnegar shouldn’t be allowed within ten feet of young girls. He interfered with me as well although he didn’t . . .’ Hot colour flooded into her cheeks.
‘Then let’s get the breakfasts out o’ the way an’ the lodgers off to work an’ then yer can go in to her,’ Annie said kindly and then to Daisy, ‘Try not to worry, pet. Biddy Spooner won’t put yer out on the street if I know her. She might be crusty on the outside but she’s as soft as clouts on the in, and it ain’t your fault what’s happened.’
They were all in a very subdued mood as they set about their tasks and Tommy was quick to pick up on it when he entered the kitchen hefting loaded log baskets for the fires in each hand.
‘What’s happened in here?’ He put the baskets down and stared from one to another of them. ‘Has somebody died or sommat?’
‘We’ll explain everything soon as breakfast is done,’ Sunday promised as Tommy peered worriedly at his sister’s red eyes.
‘Has the missus decided that our work isn’t satisfactory? Is she going to send us back to the workhouse? If that’s the case, then we’ll run away. There’s no way me or Daisy will ever go back there!’
‘It’s nothing like that, Tommy. Please be patient,’ Sunday appealed, hearing the panic in his voice.
The kitchen was quiet as they prepared the meal save for the sounds of the eggs and bacon sizzling in the frying pan. At last the breakfast was served and eventually the lodgers all went off to work.
‘We’ll have ours now, shall we?’ Annie suggested then but Sunday shook her head.
‘Would it be all right if we wait a few minutes, Annie? I think I should go through to have a word with the missus and get it over with.’ Inside she was quaking at the thought of what Mrs Spooner’s reaction might be – but she knew that it couldn’t
be put off any longer now. It wasn’t fair on anyone.
‘Get what over with?’ Tommy asked in exasperation and Daisy managed to tell him what had happened in a shaky voice.
Annie and Sunday saw the flush rise to his cheeks and his hands ball into fists of rage as the sorry story unfolded.
‘I’ll kill the dirty old bastard!’ he shocked them all by saying.
‘No, yer won’t, lad,’ Annie told him sternly. ‘I know just how yer must feel but it’s got to be done proper like.’ Then, her voice softening, she went on, ‘Don’t you worry, we’ll all see as he doesn’t get away wi’ it this time. Go on, Sunday lass, go an’ face the music.’
Sunday gulped and nodded, then headed to the door dreading to think what Mrs Spooner’s reaction to the news was going to be.
She found her still in the dining room, wiping her mouth on a napkin. Tapping at the half-open door, she said, ‘May I have a word, Mrs Spooner?’
‘Of course.’ Sensing that something was amiss she waited as Sunday entered the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
‘Well?’ the old woman demanded when Sunday just stood there. ‘Spit it out, Sunny lass – or has the cat got yer tongue?’
And so, after taking a deep breath and choosing her words carefully, Sunday slowly told her what had happened. As the story unfolded Mrs Spooner seemed to swell to twice her size. Her ridiculous blonde wig had slipped slightly to one side and the scarlet colour she had plastered onto her lips had smeared into the wrinkles surrounding them, giving her a slightly drunken appearance.
Mothering Sunday Page 20