Mothering Sunday

by Rosie Goodwin

  ‘Did you report it to the constable?’

  Annie sniffed indignantly. ‘Well, o’ course we did – but there weren’t nothin’ he could do. There weren’t a soul in sight by the time Mickey had put the fire out, so as the constable pointed out, it could have been anybody. We couldn’t even give them a description o’ the men we’d seen loiterin’ around outside ’cos they wore caps an’ mufflers an’ we didn’t get to see their faces. The constable just told us to be extra vigilant. Mickey’s slept in the chair in the kitchen ever since, bless him. An’ that ain’t the worst of it.’ Tears sprang to the old lady’s eyes. ‘Once the fire were under control Mickey went to check on the sow, only to find that some cruel bugger had stabbed her! All her piglets died with her – it was a sight I never want to see again in what’s left of me life.’ She gave a sob.

  Sunday sat stroking Mabel who was cuddled as close to her as she could get, with her large golden head in her lap. It was one thing to slaughter animals for food – but why would anyone deliberately stab a creature for no reason except spite! And then she felt sick as a face popped into her mind. Pinnegar! Or, more likely, his men.

  ‘O’ course I sent fer the butcher to take her away the very next mornin’. There were no sense in wastin’ perfectly good meat.’ Annie, the ever-practical, had pulled herself together. ‘I told Mickey he could go an’ get another sow from the cattle market soon as ever yer got back, but the lad were gutted.’

  Mrs Spooner looked dazed, hardly able to take everything in. What a homecoming this was turning out to be! She almost wished she’d stayed in London.

  ‘So now tell me what’s happened to little Nell.’ The way she saw it, she might as well know everything and get it over with.

  ‘Well, ’cos Sunday were wi’ you in London I sent Nell into town on Wednesday an’ on the way home she decided to take a short cut fer some o’ the way along the canal towpath.’

  Sunday blinked. Even the mention of the canal turned her stomach now after what had happened to Daisy and she avoided it like the plague.

  ‘Anyway, she were on a quiet stretch when suddenly a bloke stepped out from the hedge an’ afore she knew what were happenin’ he knocked her to the ground an’ started beatin’ her. The poor little soul ain’t no further through than a broom handle so she stood no chance o’ fightin’ the lousy bastard off! But then he lifted her skirts an’ it don’t take much to guess what he were goin’ to do.’ Annie shuddered as she took a noisy slurp of her tea. ‘Thank goodness at that stage Nell saw a horse on the towpath ploddin’ towards her pullin’ a barge at the same moment as the bloke did, so the swine took to his heels an’ left the poor lass lyin’ there yellin’ blue murder! It were the bargee who kindly brought her home, an’ a rare old state she were in, I’m tellin’ yer. Mickey shot straight off to fetch the doctor an’ the poor lamb has been in bed for the rest o’ the week although I think she’s on the mend now, physically at least. God knows how long it’ll be afore she feels confident enough to go out on her own again though.’

  Mrs Spooner let out her breath on a sigh, then as a thought occurred to her she asked, ‘The chap who attacked her – what did he look like? Was it Pinnegar?’

  Annie shook her head. ‘That were the first thing that occurred to me but she said she didn’t think so. He had a scarf tied round the bottom half of his face and he was wearing a hat so she didn’t get a good look at him, but she said it couldn’t be him ’cos the chap were too skinny.’

  ‘Hmm, well, if you ask me, for all these incidents to happen within the space of a week is more than sheer coincidence. I wouldn’t mind betting Pinnegar was behind ’em, though suspecting an’ provin’ it are two different things,’ Biddy said.

  She made up her mind. ‘From now on I don’t want the girls going out on their own,’ she stated firmly. ‘And I shall be asking Jacob and Mickey to keep an eye out. I want the front and back doors locked at all times and I might even consider getting a guard dog. If we were to put a kennel in the yard at least it would alert us if strangers trespassed on the property. I’m afraid Mabel here is no use for that sort of thing. She’d probably lick an intruder to death.’

  Everyone nodded in agreement as Annie cut into a sponge cake that was still slightly warm from the oven.

  Sunday declined a slice. She’d lost her appetite as she thought of what might have happened to poor little Nell. It brought back her own narrow escape from the housefather. ‘I’ll just pop up and check on Nell if you don’t mind,’ she said, and excused herself. With Mabel trotting along at her heels she went into the hall, picked up her bag and made her way to the top attic floor. After depositing her bag in her room she went and tapped on Nell’s door.

  ‘Who is it?’ a timid voice answered.

  ‘It’s only me. We just got back.’ Sunday inched the door open to find Nell curled into a ball beneath the blankets on her bed, but the instant she saw her friend the tears started to pour down her cheeks and she sat up and held her arms out.

  ‘Oh, you poor thing.’ Sunday wrapped her arms about her, appalled at the first sight of the girl. One of her eyes was almost shut and large purple bruises covered the whole of one side of her face. Her chin was badly grazed too, probably from where she had been pushed down onto the towpath, Sunday supposed. ‘It’s all right, I’m here now,’ she soothed as she rocked Nell gently to and fro. ‘And from now on one of us will come with you every single time you go out until they catch whoever did this.’

  ‘The coppers said there ain’t much chance o’ that happenin’,’ Nell sniffed. ‘The nice man from the barge ran after him when he found me, but he weren’t quick enough to catch him an’ he got clean away. Mickey went lookin’ for him too, when the barge man brought me home but he were long gone by then . . . Sunday, I’m frightened!’

  Sunday passed her a handkerchief and Nell noisily blew her nose then winced with pain as she struggled to sit up. One of her ribs was cracked from where her attacker had kicked her, and all in all just as Annie had said, she was in a rare old state.

  ‘At least you’re safe now,’ Sunday said gently. ‘And we’ll all make sure that this never happens again. Now lie down and try to rest and I’ll go and bring you up a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake.’

  Nell obediently did as she was told as Sunday made her way back down to the kitchen. Jacob was there and he asked immediately, ‘How is she?’

  ‘Not good.’ Sunday heaved a sigh. ‘Do you think your aunt is right – about all these incidents being connected, I mean?’

  ‘It rather looks that way,’ Jacob answered worriedly. ‘But now that we’re back, I can help. I’ll stay down here for a few nights for a start-off, to give Mickey a rest in case those blackguards decide to come back, and if they do I can promise you they’ll be sorry. I was good at boxing at school and nothing would please me more than to give them, or the man who attacked Nell, a damn good thrashing. Meantime I don’t think it’s a good idea for either of you two girls to go out on your own or together for a while. Mickey is to come with you if I’m at work.’

  Sunday thought what a thoroughly nice chap Jacob was. Any girl would be lucky to have him as a suitor . . . so what was holding her back?

  ‘Anyway I’m off to unpack,’ he told her then and with a smile he left her to prepare Nell’s tray.

  The following day, Lady Huntley came to call after news reached Treetops Manor of what had happened. With her she brought Stephen, tightly swaddled in a shawl.

  ‘It was Cissie who heard all about it when she went into town,’ Lavinia told Mrs Spooner. ‘But is everything all right now?’

  ‘Well, there ain’t been no more incidents. Jacob an’ Mickey have took it in turns to sleep in the kitchen just in case,’ Biddy Spooner answered as she stared down at the infant in her arms. He was such a tiny, sickly-looking little thing and his skin had a yellow tinge to it to her mind, but his mother clearly thought he was adorable if the way she kept her eye on him was anything to go by.

  ‘An
d how are things at Treetops Manor?’ Mrs Spooner asked then as the baby’s mother leaned over to wipe a trickle of milk from his tiny mouth. Molly had fed him just before they came out and Lavinia was watching the clock closely. Stephen was still being fed little and often; it was the only way he could keep his milk down.

  ‘Oh, much as usual.’ Lavinia gave a wry smile. ‘Ashley is often away in different parts of the country. Now he has access to money again, he likes to attend all the big race meetings. Horses are his passion. It grieves me that he barely looks at our son even when he is at home. But that’s fine, this little man has the rest of the household doting on him.’

  Sunday came in then bearing a pot of coffee and some of Annie’s biscuits. After she’d laid the tray down she looked at Lady Huntley and asked, ‘May I hold him?’

  ‘Of course, my dear – but do be gentle.’

  Mrs Spooner gladly handed him over. Babies were lovely but they did tend to be messy little things. However, Sunday was enchanted with him.

  ‘Why, he’s just like a little doll,’ she said, smiling as she planted a kiss on his forehead and admired his shawl. ‘Isn’t this like the one that Phoebe has?’ she enquired.

  Lady Huntley nodded. ‘How observant of you – and yes, it is. I gave some baby things to Mrs Lockett before I knew I was expecting Stephen. I ordered them from a very exclusive shop in Mayfair in London when I was expecting my first baby long ago, and sadly they had lain unused for almost fifteen years.’ A flicker of sadness crossed her face as she thought back to her lost daughters. ‘At least they are all being used now though,’ she said and Sunday felt sorry for her. She could see the woman’s pain in her eyes. It must be terrible enough to lose one baby let alone three, one after the other, as Lady Huntley had.

  ‘Cissie talks about Stephen every time I see her,’ she said then, on a happier note. ‘She seems to be quite besotted with him.’

  ‘I think all of the staff are.’ Lady Huntley chuckled. ‘I dread to think what it’s going to be like when he’s pottering about the place. I fear he’s going to be spoiled rotten.’

  ‘Quite right too!’ Mrs Spooner said stoically. ‘What’s the point of havin’ little ones if you can’t spoil ’em, eh? Imagine how lovely it will be when you can go out and do things together.’

  ‘Oh, I do imagine it,’ Lady Huntley cried. ‘I can’t wait to be able to take him to church with me and out into the garden.’

  ‘It’ll come soon enough.’ Biddy narrowed her eyes as Sunday bent to place the baby back in his mother’s arms. There it was again – that little feeling she got whenever she saw the two of them together. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Perhaps it was simply her strong belief that Sunday would make a loving mother herself one day.

  ‘Right, well, I’d better get on then. Good day, Lady Huntley.’ Sunday tripped from the room to go about her chores, leaving the two women to chew over all that had happened while Mrs Spooner had been in London.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Two weeks later, Nell was able to resume gentle tasks about the house although she adamantly refused to go to market, even accompanied by Mickey. The encounter on the canal towpath had clearly unnerved her badly and she would venture no further than the laundry room and the back yard.

  ‘She just needs time to recover from what happened,’ Mrs Spooner declared. ‘So in the meantime you can do the market trips again, Sunny. But Mickey will come with you, mind. I don’t want either of you girls venturing out on your own for now at least.’

  It was now October and the weather had taken a turn for the worse, so on market day, Sunday wrapped up warmly in her smart new coat and bonnet and joined Mickey in the little cart.

  As they clip-clopped up Haunchwood Road he told her worriedly, ‘I’ve to take Treacle to be shoed at the blacksmiths and then I’ve to look around the cattle pens for a new sow. That should take an hour or so. Mrs Spooner said I wasn’t to leave you alone, so you can come with me, if you like.’

  Treacle was Mickey’s pride and joy, as were all the animals. He loved them as much as Tommy had.

  ‘Oh no, I will be fine on my own. There should be plenty of people about.’ Sunday gave him a reassuring smile as she clung onto her bonnet. There was a strong wind and it was threatening to snatch it away. ‘Annie has given me a list of things to get for her, so I’ll be seeing to that. We can meet up afterwards.’ The trip to London had increased her confidence.

  Sometime later, Mickey dropped her off in Queen’s Road at the entrance to the market before agreeing where they should meet later on.

  Sunday gave him a wave, and with her basket over her arm she set off to start on the shopping. The sky was grey and leaden and this, combined with the wind, didn’t make it the most pleasant of days. However, Sunday would never stop enjoying her freedom from the confines of the workhouse so she went happily from one stall to another. She had almost finished her shopping when the rain started, a gentle drizzle at first that soon turned into a real downpour. With a muttered curse she headed for Stratford Street away from the stalls and dived into an empty shop doorway. Her new bonnet was her pride and joy and she didn’t want the rain to ruin it so she decided she would stay there till the rain had slowed a little. After setting her basket down she started to brush the raindrops from her new coat. It was then that she became aware of someone blocking the light. Glancing up, her stomach sank as she saw Albert Pinnegar planted there with two of his henchmen standing close behind him, leering at her.

  ‘Tasty little whore, ain’t she, Henry?’ the smaller of the two said to the other. ‘Albert’s told us how free she is wi’ her favours. I wouldn’t mind liftin’ her skirts an’ havin’ a peek at her silk drawers meself.’

  Ignoring the man’s lewd comments and determined not to let them see how afraid she was, Sunday raised her chin and addressed Pinnegar, saying, ‘What do you want!’

  He was glaring at her and she saw immediately that he was angry. ‘Enjoy your week away with your latest fancy man, did you?’ he spat, ignoring her question. His hands were clenching and unclenching into fists and his eyes were wild.

  He must be talking about the week she had just spent in London with Jacob and Mrs Spooner, Sunday thought – but how on earth did he get to hear about it? Then common sense told her that people always gossiped. After all, it wasn’t often a maid was given such a treat and Pinnegar had probably thought she and Jacob had gone alone.

  ‘If you’re talking about the week I just spent in London, surely you must know I accompanied my employer and her nephew.’

  ‘Huh! I bet that didn’t stop you from pleasuring him, you slut. Word has it that you shared a room in a posh hotel.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ Sunday’s face grew hot with mortification and as he took a step into the doorway she shrank back against the wall. She was absolutely convinced that Pinnegar was the one behind the fire at the Lodge and the attack on Nell, but she couldn’t accuse him without proof. Looking out, she saw that there weren’t many people about now; like herself they had all sought shelter from the rain and she suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  ‘Look – when are you going to leave me alone?’ she asked him desperately. ‘Why can’t you just accept that I have no interest in you?’

  His chest swelled and his face turned a dull brick-red colour. ‘You have no interest in me?’ he hissed from between clenched teeth. ‘Let me tell you, young lady – I wouldn’t touch a little whore like you even if you handed it to me on a plate for free. But you are in my debt. You owe me! It was because of you and that friend of yours that I lost my job at the workhouse and I won’t be happy till I’ve paid you back, in full. Oh yes, my lady, you will rue the day you crossed Albert Pinnegar!’

  Sunday’s heart was hammering so loudly she feared it would leap out of her chest but to her great relief he turned about and stamped away then with his henchmen following like two ugly mastiffs. She sagged against the wall. That confrontation had been just a little too close for comfort. When
was she ever going to be free of him? She was now beginning to feel seriously unnerved. If he had been responsible for the fire and setting someone to attack Nell, then she was now putting those closest to her at risk, for Pinnegar would clearly never stop hounding her until he considered he’d had his revenge. There was only one thing she could do now; she would have to move from Mrs Spooner’s to somewhere where he couldn’t find her.

  A sick feeling started in the pit of her stomach at the thought of it, but deep down she knew it was the only solution. She would never be able to forgive herself should anything happen to those she cared about. The prospect of leaving the only place where she had ever found happiness made her feel weak with dismay. Lifting her basket she stepped back out into the street. It was still raining heavily but suddenly her best bonnet didn’t feel so important any more as she glanced up and down to make sure that Pinnegar had really departed. He was like a bad penny, turning up when she least expected him. Satisfied that he had gone, she lifted her skirts and raced towards the blacksmiths.

  Oh, Daisy, I’m so afraid, she told her departed friend silently.

  ‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ Molly said as Zillah admitted her to her mistress’s bedchamber early one cold November morning. ‘I don’t want to alarm you but I think you should send for the doctor. I’ve been up all night with Master Stephen. He has a fever and I can’t seem to bring it down. Marigold has one too. I fear they’ve caught the measles from Mrs Lockett’s little girl, Phoebe. The rash is just coming out on them both.’