Three Round Towers

  Our day proceeded as normal, breakfast, working in the doctor’s study, seeing patients and preparing medicants. Today Dr Grieve was due to sit in the coroner’s court and we started our lunch without him. His hours on such days were unpredictable so Mrs Jenkins plated up some cold meats, bread and cheese. I spent several hours with Beth who was learning her alphabet. We used some chalk to practice letters on a slate. Beth was two and a half, as she proudly declared to everyone she met, and she absorbed all the experiences of her daily life like Mrs Jenkins’ mop.

  I heard the door slam as the doctor arrived. Mrs Jenkins scurried to meet him and he shouted for me, ‘Esther, Esther, come and join me.’

  We sat at the dining table and he began eating, all the while looking at me with concerned eyes.

  ‘What is it?’ I whispered, suddenly afraid.

  ‘It’s your aunt, she has asked to see you. Can you face it? You are not obliged but it might help you to put this all behind you.’

  ‘Have you heard about the boat?’

  ‘Yes, she is to be taken to Tilbury tomorrow where she will be put upon a vessel bound for the Australias.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Aye, tomorrow. If you want to see her before she leaves you must go now, before dark. There will be no opportunity tomorrow. Esther, my dear, I know you are troubled by her and I think it might be an opportunity to lance the boil.’

  I smiled at his use of a medical term but inside my heart was pounding at the thought of meeting her again. The last time we had met we were in court and she had watched me with anger in her eyes as I told the story of my abduction, imprisonment and almost marriage to her son, Sam, my cousin. During the trial I was asked, at great length, about my relationship to the Kempe family.

  I tried to think why she would want to see me. It was my testimony that damned her.

  In the end I decided to go, if only to satisfy myself, again, that she was indeed a very wicked woman and deserved no quarter from decent people.

  Dr Grieve accompanied me to the doors of the house of correction but I declined his offer to escort me inside. I was admitted by a young man who was new to the job and much kinder to me than the gaoler who had previously incarcerated me in the very same cell as my aunt. I looked through the bars to see her crouched on a three legged stool looking very unkempt. ‘You wanted to see me, aunt?’

  Unkempt she might be but her eyes were as clear as ever and her look was withering.

  ‘You asked us, girl, to be a family to you and you wanted to know about your mother. Well I am going to tell you. You might not wish to hear all that I say but it is your right to know.’

  She spat into the corner of the room as she called for the gaoler. ‘Bring the girl a stool, boy, can’t you see she be crippled?’

  I gasped. I didn’t see myself as a cripple.

  The lad brought a chair and I sat, waiting. I hid my hands in my cloak, I didn’t want her to see that I was nervous.

  ‘Your ma, Sarah, was my older sister and she were a bright spark. Our grandmother Meg took a liking to her and taught her everything she did know about her craft. She didn’t bother with me.’

  ‘Craft?’

  ‘Aye, craft. Meg were known as a wise woman.’ She looked up at me nastily. ‘Or, in some circles, a witch. You be shocked girl, but there is not much difference ‘tween the two. People think that a wise woman be for the good, and a witch for the bad; your great-grandmother Meg would be a bit of both, according to who she were treating. My mother was her daughter, and she were a weakly sort so it were a spell that bound our father to her, a spell cast by Meg.’

  She paused in her tale before saying, ‘Meddlin’ in such things be dangerous and with all her knowledge and herbal skills she bound they two together as should never have been. Pa didn’t want her but he sired Sarah then me, then ma died of the effort. It suited Meg to keep him tied to the family while she brought us up an’ he took out his frustrations in smuggling. He led a gang of ’em, including many local lads who were looking to earn more than the few pennies they got legally. It weren’t all about money – the drink and the excitement were heady payment and outwitting the law was part of the thrill.’ She was looking into the distance as she said this and I could sense that she missed the life they had led, pitting their wits and cunning against authority.

  ‘Our whole life revolved round the trade and your ma was as much a part of it as the rest of us. She were a bright girl and comely; our dad used her to deliver messages and keep the local constabulary sweet. She just crooked her little finger and sweet-talked them into befuddlement. She had learned well from Grandma Meg.’

  ‘It were a bad day for us when Sarah met a young man, a stranger to our parts. She should have been acting as a lookout but she got flustered by this good-looking fella who stopped to ask the way. Because she took her eye off the game, two young lads were caught and one of they were later hanged; he were a bonny lad. Sarah were beaten as a punishment, as was the way with those that flouted our rules.’

  ‘Who beat her?’ I asked.

  ‘Why, her dad, who do you think? He loved her, more an’ me, but she nearly got us all caught.’

  ‘Didn’t her grandmother protect her?’

  ‘You’re not listenin’ are you girl? We was all in it together and that was her punishment.’

  Aunt Tilly spat on the ground again and continued.

  ‘Some months later Meg took sick and died. ‘T’were very sudden and with her death the spells broke. Our pa went looking for a new woman. Sarah, your mother, left us soon after, but not afore he had satisfied hisself.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’m not daft girl, your ma was useful in that way to your grandfather. He took her as he later took me. Who knows how many childer he got roundabouts.’ She looked at me and laughed. ‘D’you know how long it were before she got herself hitched to your dad?’

  I felt sick and struggled for breath as I gasped, ‘No, it’s not true, you are just saying all this to get back at me. You’re an evil woman and I wish you were hanged, just as you deserve.’

  ‘Aye, maybe I do deserve hanging but you’m come from our seed girl and you’ll never know whether the badness is in you. Your grandfather might be your father – he might not, but you’ll never know and if you have childer they might be born idiots as some of mine were. They’m all dead now – two died after they was born, they were afflicted and one were a cripple–’ she was looking at my lipsy leg ‘–and their dying was a blessed relief, but my two strong boys Sam and Jeremiah, there were now’t wrong with they, but you got them killed.’ She looked at me, accusing, accusing.

  ‘Is this why you wanted to see me, just to tell lies? Well, I don’t believe you and I won’t let you destroy my memories of my parents. They were good people and they loved each other. I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you and I won’t believe you. I won’t!’

  My cries had brought the guard running and I was let out of that hateful place. I ran, as best as I was able, all the way back to Dr Grieve’s house and flung myself on my bed. Oh, how I cried.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Everything she said was planted like a seed in my head and though I continued to live my life as before, the seed took root. I later learned that Aunt Tilly was delivered to the great hulking ship that would make its way to a different, unknown, world. Many times I thought of it, imagining the squalor, the disease and cruelty amongst those who had nothing to lose. I hoped she would succumb and die and with that her power over me would end. But it was too late, the seeds were putting out shoots.

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Cecilia had had enough of her mother and she was coming home to South Farm. We had a letter delivered by special messenger to say that she was arriving by carriage but two days hence. I hurried to the farm and met with Farmer Elwood who was in a considerable fluster. I didn’t have time to ask the whys and wherefores, we just set to and spring-cleaned her rooms. The cradle that Beth had used was freshened u
p and I threaded pretty ribbons all through its woven structure. When the room was cleaned to my satisfaction I left some soaps, oils and herbs to make everything smell beautiful. By my reckoning, Cecilia would be about seven and half months gone in her pregnancy so to make such a journey was, to my mind, a mite reckless but I knew her mother would ensure that she was well cared for.

  The morning of her arrival was a Saturday and Farmer Elwood, Dr Grieve and I were all waiting anxiously. The doctor and I had prepared some simple remedies for calming, just in case, but they were not needed as she arrived in a large coach, with a nurse, and in blooming health. She looked so happy as the coach drew up but Farmer Elwood was even happier. Carefully she was handed down from the carriage and she clung to her husband’s arm as she made her way up the steps and into her home.

  Dr Grieve and I returned to Lewes for Cecilia, though blooming, was in need of rest after her long journey and she clearly wanted to spend time alone with her husband. We said our goodbyes with promises of visiting the very next day when I would take Beth, who was more than a little excited at the prospect.

  We had so much to talk about: my adventures, Cecilia’s escape from her domineering and over-protective mother, Beth’s accomplishments and John Elwood’s loneliness which had played a big part in bringing about Cecilia’s early return.

  ‘Tell me again how Wilf proposed to you and when you will be married,’ she said.

  I laughed, delighted to dwell on the wonderful moment when we had agreed to marry.

  ‘What about the girl that he was supposed to be seeing?’

  ‘I don’t know, I didn’t think they were actually together, perhaps you know more than me.’

  ‘Oh, I am sure I don’t – if nothing has been said then there must have been nothing in it.’

  She changed the subject, enquiring about Mrs Makepiece and Miss Wardle.

  It was only later that I wondered if I should ask Wilf about the young woman who Cecilia thought he had been seeing. I didn’t want to tempt fate though so I put it uneasily to the back of my mind.

  Some days later Cecilia asked if I would return to South Farm to help her and to be on hand if Dr Grieve was not available. At first I didn’t know what to say – I was enjoying my life in Lewes where I was fully occupied and useful but I owed them so much. I wondered how I could stay at South Farm but continue working for the doctor during the day, and then what would I do with Beth?

  I had been very involved in helping the doctor with his mothers-to-be and with the book learning I had done I felt that I could manage to deliver a baby on my own, providing there were no complications. Many times I thought back to Becca’s experience of birth, alone and with no care or comforts. Locally, most women were delivered without a doctor present but they tended to be those who would prefer a local woman as midwife. Lewes had several such women and in the main they did very well but who was to say how many of their losses, mother, babe, or both, were down to lack of skill, poor conditions or complications. Losses in childbirth were accepted as part of everyday circumstance. The doctor and I discussed it many times and he said that he did not expect to have any losses, but his ladies were all well nourished and healthy unlike a lot of the townswomen, especially the ones who had babies year in, year out.

  In the end, it was the doctor who proposed that I return to South Farm until after Cecilia’s baby was born. He suggested that I be given a quiet little pony to make the trip back and forward to Lewes as needed. I said I was quite able to walk but he didn’t seem to want me to do that, particularly, he said, if it was dark or the weather was bad. Billy-alone could accompany me at need and carry my bag.

  ‘But, what about Beth?’

  ‘She can be at South Farm with you and when you are occupied I am sure Cecilia can ask one of her servants to help. The wet nurse is still at the farm, is she not?’

  ‘She is. When she stopped nursing she started work in the kitchens.’

  ‘Well then, that’s taken care of. We will drive over tomorrow and I will speak to John Elwood about a pony. In the meantime, you can use their gig or mine. That’s agreed then.’

  It all seemed so easy to him but I was in a flurry of concerns. Would I be able to manage a pony? Would Beth be unhappy without me? Would I be able to manage if Cecilia went into labour and the doctor was away?

  Mrs Jenkins was sorry to see us go, she had become so attached to Beth and I reassured her that she would be back and forwards with me. Billy-alone was to be my escort on a daily basis and he would lead the pony whose name was Flossy. I went to the stables every day for a week to have lessons in how to ride properly. Wilf would come and pass comment on my ‘seat’ and we would be in fits of laughter as I tried to look elegant, ride comfortably and still maintain my seat. Finally I felt confident enough to take Flossy out, even if Billy was not available. Flossy was a lovely kind pony and once I got used to managing reins, feet and seat all together I found that the strain on my leg was greatly relieved.

  Before I left Dr Grieve’s I took tea with Mrs Makepiece, Miss Wardle and Beth’s grandpa. We all met up at Keere Street where I explained the plans.

  ‘Dr Grieve is going to miss you Esther. I saw Mrs Jenkins in town yesterday and she said he was going to be back to his old ways if you weren’t there all of the time.’ Mrs Makepiece said as she poured the tea.

  ‘Well, I don’t know what his old ways are. Did she tell you?’

  ‘Aye, he gets very morose and slams the doors a lot. And, he goes out calling as he doesn’t seem to like his own company.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never seen him like that.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Beth’s grandpa suggested that he probably got lonely. I had the feeling that he was speaking from experience.

  ‘Well I don’t get lonely,’ said Miss Wardle. ‘Not now Billy-alone is there and I didn’t much even before he came as I had all the piggies to keep me company.’

  Mrs Makepiece gave her a strange look before looking up at me. ‘Does he talk to you lass, apart from work talk?’

  ‘Yes, he does, but we don’t always see eye-to-eye and he is often grumpy with me too so I don’t think you can read anything into his moods at all. Perhaps he is just getting old.’

  ‘Old? He’s not old. How old is he?’

  ‘I think he is probably about forty. The same age as Farmer Elwood.’

  ‘Cecilia is only twenty-one and I don’t suppose she thinks her husband is old,’ retorted Mrs Makepiece.

  ‘I don’t understand what you are saying.’

  ‘Perhaps Dr Grieve is sweet on you Esther.’

  ‘Nonsense, we just get on well together.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  I changed the subject and was quite glad when it was time to go. At supper that evening I studied my employer’s face when he wasn’t looking. I had to admit that he wasn’t old, his face just looked a little lived in. He didn’t always dress for supper when we were alone, in fact, he seemed to like being more comfortable in his clothes. I wondered if all the fine ladies who called on him would appreciate him if they saw him in his working shirt, waistcoat and slippers.

  ‘What are you smiling at Esther?’

  ‘I was just picturing Beth and I riding Flossy.’

  ‘I will take you over to South Farm tomorrow in the gig, so there will be plenty of room for all your bits and pieces. Your room will stay as you leave it, ready for when you return and if you want a nap during the day here. You will be spread thin, Esther, do you think you will manage?’

  ‘Aye, I am sure I will, as long as you don’t mind me coming and going at all hours.’

  ‘I’m just glad you will be here during the day. I will miss you Esther, I have come to enjoy our suppers together.’

  ‘I have too, Dr Grieve, and I am so grateful for all the opportunities you have given me.’

  ‘Grateful? Ah well it has worked well for us both, and for Beth too.’ He raised his wine glass and looked at me. I felt his eyes were reading mine so I dropped my g
lance in case he saw what Mrs Makepiece was suggesting. The very thought made me come over in a hot flush.

  The next day, after lunch, we packed our clothes into the gig and set off at a smart pace for South Farm where Cecilia was waiting. Beth rushed up to our room and jumped up and down on my bed in her excitement. As soon as we had unpacked our few things we went down to the kitchen to say hello to Cilla and Mrs Fisher. Our first night back at South Farm was wonderful. I had supper with Cecilia and Farmer Elwood and I felt just like I had come home.

  Chapter Seventy

  We slipped back into South Farm life as easily as shelling peas and though I was busier than before I found life quite exhilarating. Flossy made all the difference. She gave me such freedom, and my attachment to her grew on a daily basis, until I said to Billy-alone that I could manage without him. He didn’t think much of that idea but occasionally on fine days and when I could escape I would have Flossy saddled, climb onto her broad and steady back and away we would go. I felt free, and excited being able to trot and even canter. All my movement difficulties, better as they were, became as nothing: I was equal to anyone on a horse. Beth would sometimes sit in front of me and would stroke and tug at Flossy’s ears. She was the gentlest, sweetest creature and Beth and I loved her, as did Billy-alone – when he got the chance.

  Shortly after I returned to South Farm, Wilf arranged for me to accompany him on his work rounds. He visited a number of Farmer Elwood’s tenants and overlooked some crops. We rode along farm tracks to out of the way cottages and hidden valleys. The South Downs were astonishingly beautiful with their great lifts, drops and folds. We rode up to Telscombe and pulled the horses to a halt in order to look back at Lewes. The sky was so large and clean I was able to breathe deeply and smell the good air.

  We moved on towards the village where there were a few cottages, a church and a large farm. Wilf asked me to wait while he had a word with the farm tenant and I sat on Flossy, as comfortable as anything and allowed her to drop her head and graze.