John locked eyes with Erith. He was searching her face for some sort of reassurance, and she smiled. She reached out and patted his arm. “Mary knows what she’s doing.”
“She’s in so much pain. It’s been so long. How much can she take?”
“That’s not unusual, John. Alice is strong and healthy. Mary was happy to come.”
“I’m sure glad to have her. She threw me out as soon as she went in the room.”
Erith laughed as she remembered that Mary had done the same thing with Danol only a few months before.
“You go on to the mill with Danol. I’ll stay here with Beatrice.”
John stood and patted his daughter’s back. She looked at him and then quickly buried herself again in Erith’s neck. Erith hugged her more tightly and murmured words of comfort.
“Mommy told me you were my ‘before mother,’” the little girl said as she pulled back from her shoulder and gazed at Erith’s face through tears.
Erith blinked. Where had that come from? Her breath caught somewhere deep in her throat. She glanced quickly at John. He nodded. Were John and Alice returning Beatrice to her now that they were having a new baby? That didn’t make sense.
“Alice was scared something would happen to her,” John whispered. “She thinks there is something wrong.”
Erith gulped. For an instant she was sad, but she shook it off. Poor Alice was preparing for the worst. She settled her gaze on Beatrice. “Do you know what that means?” she asked softly.
“I’ll be going,” John said as he scurried off the stairs and headed toward the wooden structure that stretched along the river below the hill. Erith guessed he was going to seek solace in the place he knew: the mill.
“Annie told me she had a ‘before mommy’ and she went away. She said you became her new mommy,” Beatrice said. “Annie only remembers you, not the ‘before mommy.’”
“That’s right,” Erith said. “Her ‘before mommy.’” She paused as she searched for the right words. “Her ‘before mommy’ had to go away. She didn’t want to, but she had to.”
“That’s what Mommy said. She said that you had to leave me, but you didn’t want to. She said I was like Annie.”
Tears sprang to Erith’s eyes. With every ounce of courage she could muster, she held them in and took a deep breath. She nodded at Beatrice, softly held her cheeks in her palms, and kissed her forehead. “That’s right, I didn’t want to leave you. I was very sad about it.”
“Mommy said that you looked and looked for me but couldn’t find me. She told me that you found Annie and George and Tommy and that they needed a mommy.”
Erith smiled. “I did, and I love them so much, just like your mommy loves you.”
“Mommy said that if she has to go away, you will be my mommy again. But I don’t want her to go away.”
Erith hugged her. “I know you don’t, sweet child. I know you don’t. Dr. Mary is here to help her stay with you. Your mommy will try really hard not to go.”
A window slid open somewhere about the covered porch. “Erith, are you there? I need your help.”
“I’m right here, Mary,” Erith called out. “I’m coming.”
She lifted Beatrice off her lap and stooped in front of her. “You run down to your daddy and Danol. I’ll come get you as soon as I can.”
Beatrice nodded and moved slowly toward the step.
“Go on now,” Erith said. She peered toward the mill. John and Danol were sitting on a pile of logs. She shouted to them, told them Beatrice was on her way, and watched the child until she was in view of the men. She bolted into the house and followed the noise of a labouring Alice.
Alice’s brow was soaked with sweat as her body contracted violently before being momentarily released. She motioned for Erith to come to her side. A grey-haired woman, the midwife, was tearing strips from a bedsheet and soaking them in a pan of steaming water. Bloodied bandages were piled at the foot of the bed. Mary Ro didn’t meet her gaze.
“You have to take Beatrice,” Alice whispered.
“I’m not taking her,” Erith said through gritted teeth. “There won’t be a need.”
“You promise me,” Alice moaned as her body wrenched once again. She grabbed Erith’s hand. “Promise me.”
Erith sat on the side of the bed and squeezed her hand. “Hold on, Alice. You’ll be just fine,” she said. “No matter what happens, you don’t have to worry about Beatrice.”
Mary came behind Erith and looked down at Alice. “The baby is legs first, Alice. I need to turn him. Erith and Clara will hold you. After the next contraction. You won’t last like this if I don’t turn the baby, and it is too late for surgery.” Mary clasped their joined hands. “Hold on for another few minutes.”
Mary looked pointedly at Erith and Clara. “Whatever you do, hold her down.”
When the next contraction seized Alice, Erith and Clara pushed her shoulders into the bed and held her there. Alice screamed as Erith bent over her and whispered words of encouragement.
In a loud voice, Mary kept repeating, “Almost there, Alice! Almost there.”
The spasm subsided, and Alice loosened her grip. Erith moved back to look at her. The woman was exhausted.
“You’re ready, Alice. Next one and the baby is here.”
“I can’t,” said Alice as she slowly shook her head from side to side.
“Yes, you can. Erith and Clara are going to help you.”
Alice cried out again, and Erith and Clara lifted her shoulders as her body tensed. Alice’s face turned blue as she gave one final shriek.
Erith cried out with her and stroked her hair. Was it only two months before that Mary was with her when little Charlie was born?
She eased Alice back onto the soaked pillows, and Mary handed the baby off to Clara. “You’re not done yet, Alice. Just a little while longer.”
Erith glanced at Mary with a raised eyebrow.
“She’s having twins,” Mary said. “That’s why she’s early.” Mary Ro had been here months before, when Alexander MacDonald took sick. She had stayed for a few days until he died. At that time there would have been no way to know that Alice was having twins.
Erith hadn’t been able to come then. She was too far along, and a few days after Mary got back, she had given birth herself. Now her jaw dropped at the news of twins. Alice moaned. Erith wedged herself behind Alice and propped her up in her arms.
“Don’t give up, Alice. Your babies need their momma.”
Alice’s body shook once more, and Erith, using her own body as support, pushed her toward Mary. Mary grabbed Alice’s hands and pulled her forward. They both shouted encouragement at the fading woman. Alice shuddered and moaned before collapsing back on Erith when the pain had passed.
Erith reached for the pan and took out a wet piece of cloth. She dabbed it along Alice’s hairline and wiped her face.
“Once more, Alice,” Mary said.
“No. No,” Alice panted. “I can’t.” Her breathing was shallow. Erith’s eyes met Mary’s. She saw the uncertainty on her face.
“Yes, you can,” Erith said forcefully. “Yes, you can. For Beatrice.”
Alice’s body flexed, and Erith moved with her as she pushed her toward Mary once again. Mary shouted encouragement at Alice while Erith kept her from sinking back onto the bed.
“That’s it. That’s it. That’s it,” Mary said.
Alice’s body contracted and squeezed and trembled all at the same time. She let out a mournful cry before collapsing on Erith.
“You did it,” Mary said. She handed off the second baby to Clara, then waited for the next tremor to finish the birth. She tapped Alice’s legs several times with the tips of her fingers to make sure she was awake. Alice groaned a pitiful protest in Erith’s arms. Erith pulled herself out
from underneath Alice and set the pillow beneath her head. “Let her rest for a bit,” Mary said without looking up. Erith clapped her on the back as she went around her to see the babies.
“We would have lost them all,” Clara whispered as she washed the two infants. “Alice was frantic that you wouldn’t make it in time.”
Erith swaddled one while Clara finished washing the second one. “Why was she so afraid?”
“She couldn’t be consoled,” said Clara. “She wanted you here for Beatrice if . . . you know.”
They quickly cleaned the room and fixed Alice in the bed. Erith pulled open the window to let in some fresh air. She could see the men, and when Mary was finished tending to Alice, she went downstairs to call them.
John and Beatrice raced toward the house with Danol close behind. Erith smiled at John, and he lifted Beatrice and swung her around. “You’re going to be a sister!”
Beatrice squealed as John carried her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Erith followed. Mary and Clara came out to give them privacy. Erith watched John’s face as he realized he had two babies, one perched on either side of Alice, who was propped up on clean pillows. Though she was weak and pallid, she was smiling. Beatrice ran to her mother and hugged her. Erith left to find Danol.
“They have a boy,” Erith said to her husband.
“A son for John,” Danol said.
“And a girl.”
Danol’s eyes widened when he realized what she had said. “A son and a daughter?”
“A sister and brother for Beatrice,” Erith said. She smiled and threw her arms around him.
He laughed. “Let’s get home to Charlie.”
“Yes, let’s,” said Erith. She was sure her contentment mirrored his.
“John mentioned that Alice’s sister and her family are coming for a visit in the next month or so,” Danol told her.
“That will be good for Alice. Clara will stay with her for a few weeks until she is well.”
Epilogue
St. John’s
Ten years later
“What do you think of that, Mrs. Cooper?”
“It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful, Mr. Cooper.”
“Then you approve?”
“Well, it’s too late now, really, isn’t it?”
“We could change the colour if you want,” he said.
“No, yellow’s my favourite. This one is truly a beauty.”
Erith’s Quest would be launched the next day from the St. John’s dockyard. The finest vessel they owned—and the largest. Today, Danol wanted to show her the completed ship before the fanfare of the christening. They finished the tour in the master suite, the main cabin, where he had a surprise for her.
“Danol, it’s a big boat. Are you sure we want something this big?”
“Well, I need to talk to you about that.”
“Really?” Erith asked.
“Yes. I spoke to Peter, and he agrees that we can find somebody in North Harbour to skipper the Angel Endeavours this year. George will skipper the Beatrice Annie and do all the freight runs while we’re gone. Tommy will look after the business for us.”
“And where might we be going, Mr. Cooper?”
“Well, I heard there’s this little town in England . . .” His voice trailed off as his words sank in.
“What?”
“You heard me, Erith. We’re going to find your mother’s family.”
She flung herself into his arms. “Danol Cooper, I had no idea you were planning this! How did you keep this a secret?”
“It was easy. Nobody knows except Peter Sr., George, and Tommy. Oh, I mean Tom.”
“Yes, don’t forget, it’s Tom now. He’s too grown up for Tommy.” They both laughed. Tom was, after all, twenty-four years old. When he came home from college the year before, he told them he sounded more professional as Tom. Danol had helped him start an accounting firm in St. John’s, and he was prospering.
“Well, who’s going? Give me some details.”
“We’ll set out in about two months. Erith’s Quest will have her sea trials by then.”
“I’m going to ask Annie and Eddy if they want to join us.” Annie Ryan and Edward Nolan had been sweethearts from childhood and married as soon as Annie came of age. They had two children. Despite Danol’s belief that Eddy was going to be a sailor, Eddy followed in his father’s footsteps and became a doctor. Their Annie became a nurse and worked alongside her husband. “If they can’t get away from their practice, then maybe the children can come. Of course, we can’t leave without the other six.”
Danol and Erith had six children since they married. She had given up the store in favour of living on the south side of the harbour in the big yellow house with all the windows and the two staircases. George and his wife took over the store. George became a seafarer like Danol, and his wife managed the business.
Danol built a third floor in the attic, with fancy glass windows in the nursery, then took to building boats and hiring them out—and selling some as well. He liked his life on shore with his wife and children. He commissioned the St. John’s dockyard to build Erith’s Quest but had designed it himself.
The Beatrice Annie was the first boat he built from the MacDonald Lumber Yard in Mount Carmel. He built that one for her baby girls. Erith thought she couldn’t love him more.
Beatrice spent several summers with them. Erith funded her education, and Beatrice was now a journalist and living in Toronto, Canada. She wrote to them often. Erith loved Beatrice and was happy to have shared her life along with John and Alice.
She was truly spoiled. Danol was giving her a chance to meet the family she hadn’t known. Her mother’s people were in Erith, England. Her mother had given her the most precious gift, the name “Erith,” which had mapped a course that led her to Danol. And now, even further, with the man she loved.
“Did you say the other six?”
“Yes, why?”
“You may need to count again. There’ll be six and a half on this journey.”
She beamed at Danol and watched his face as the realization set in that there’d be a seventh Cooper in North Harbour before the end of the year.
“Do I need to get another pram?”
He kissed her tenderly to finish the tour.
Afterword
There is such a rich and fascinating history attached to Newfoundland and Labrador and her people.
Very rarely did a news story pertaining to crime in Labrador make it to the papers on the island of Newfoundland. However, a couple of articles that led to this novel’s beginnings were among the few.
I came across the story of Ephraim the Esquimeaux’s escape in Harbour Main while I was researching the provincial history of the late 1800s. I filed it away, and it helped spawn the sequel to The Promise.
I found several articles and Moravian journal accounts that followed the capture, escape, and recapture of Ephraim (sometimes spelled Ephriam) the Esquimeaux or Esquimo. During the trial in St. John’s, he was referenced as Ephraim Taktos. From careful research I was able to determine that Ephraim killed his first wife (Ruth Taktos) by throwing her into the sea. Within a few months, he married a woman who was almost twice his age and murdered his stepson, Philip, in part due to a relationship with the stepson’s wife, Nancy. Ephraim was taken into custody by the Moravian Brethren after the second murder. Having nowhere to keep him over the winter, he was sent to St. John’s. He escaped in Harbour Main and was recaptured. After trial he was sentenced to be hanged, but the sentence was commuted to life in prison. Ephraim died a few years later from complications of tuberculosis.
Additionally, part of our fishing history is attributed to the green fishermen—those who stayed in Labrador and returned to their Island homes in the fall, as well as the floater fishery—thos
e who prosecuted the fishery from a base on the Island of Newfoundland, where the boats were registered and the fish processed. The floater fishery employed women servants to cook and “ready” the fish. The women were paid less, worked hard, and had no privacy, until the mid-1880s, when enterprises were fined for not keeping separate accommodations for females. Enterprise owners often hung a curtain between both genders in order to meet regulations.
Both these pieces of history led to the characters known as Ezra Shawe and Alice Martin.
Another fascinating story is related to a mystery surrounding George’s Island in Labrador. A man showed up in a small community several miles away claiming to have been the sole survivor from the Walrus when she was wrecked on the island during a windstorm. Upon investigation by local fishermen, several headless bodies were found lying together on the beach, another some distance farther away, where the head had been cleaved with an axe. A campsite was discovered, as well as papers, books, and the black and white photo of a woman stuffed in the rocks. To this day the mystery has not been solved, nor did it make it to the newspapers on the Island of Newfoundland until the following year.
Another story is related to events surrounding Lieutenant Colonel John Moody and a charwoman’s death while in service to John Jackson’s daughter, Margaret. Although this took place in the eighteenth century, I believed it was worth mentioning and led to the character Lavinia.
These two scenarios played a crucial role in the development of Teddy White and his transformation into John MacDonald.
The novel is in no way intended to represent these stories disrespectfully. It is merely meant to highlight some of the not-so-pleasant histories that make up the foundation of our beautiful province, Newfoundland and Labrador.
The following entry was posted in Archival Moments and tagged “domestic,” “Emily Day,” “girls,” and “servants” on July 16, 2019, by Larry Dohey.
Females engaged as servants in the fishery
Archival Moment, May 5, 1884
An “apartment” for the females engaged as servants in the fishery
The Liars Page 22