“And I suppose it serves no purpose either.”
“None whatsoever; now get back to that scrubbing. That oven is thick with burned on grease and grime and I want it shining.” Elana scrubbed and tried to forget about the crank and the treadmill.
Later she returned to her cell. Her clean bedding was piled on the end of the hammock. Picking up the sheet, she realized it was the same one that she had torn strips off of. I guess there will be no replacement, she thought to herself. No one to blame, but myself. Carefully she tucked the short sheet under the blanket on her hammock. At least it’s clean.
Elana lay in her hammock dreading the next morning. She had served her fortnight in the kitchen. The guard was taking her to her labor post, where she would go every day until they decided to change it. She prayed it wouldn’t be the treadmill or the crank. She thought of her mother and when she closed her eyes she could feel her mother’s arms around her. It gave her comfort.
The sun shone through the small window illuminating her cell. She yawned and rolled out of her hammock. Stretching her body, she prayed that she would be given a duty that she could do without her body being exhausted every day.
Breakfast arrived. Not knowing what her chore would be, she ate heartily. Then the guard arrived. “Come on, today you get to do some real work.” Elana shuddered. She followed the guard tentatively. “Hurry up! You’ve got work to do.” Head down, she walked through the prison.
She was brought to a huge room. The first thing she noticed was that the air was filled with dust. Several women were seated at large barrels pulling bits of rope apart. To their right, a woman beat the rope with a large rake-like instrument. She created billows of dust that flew into the air making it almost unbearable. After the rope was beaten, it was thrown into barrels, like the ones in front of the women. Elana was directed to one of the chairs. “Warder will be here to tell you what to do shortly. Watch them and get started.”
Elana looked shyly at the other women. One looked up and smiled. She was a young woman about twenty years old. Her hair was blonde and pulled up under a scarf. She reached into a bag beside her and handed Elana a large scarf. Looking around to make sure no one could hear her she said. “Better tie your hair up in this. Helps keep it clean and out of your face.” Elana took it thankfully. Her chopped hair was shoulder length now. She pulled her thick locks up into the scarf and off her face.
“Thank you, I’m Elana.” The other woman pursed her lips and motioned for her not to talk. Elana waited. Finally feeling that it was safe, the woman spoke to her.
“Betsy.” The young woman introduced herself before whispering, “You best get busy before his highness comes. Just pick up the rope and pull it apart. Use one of those picks.” Elana picked up a short piece of rope. She looked at it and started trying to pull it apart. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. She used the pick and soon the rope started to unravel. Her third finger ached as she put pressure on the rope. Broken in the holding cell during her initial incarceration, it was bent permanently to the left at the first knuckle. Elana knew it would give her trouble in the future.
“Why are we doing this? Another useless job?” Elana whispered.
The other woman next to Betsy laughed softly. “So they told you about the crank and the treadmill did they? Name’s Daphne.”
“Yes, Matron in the kitchen told me and I prayed I wouldn’t be sent there.” Betsy snickered. “Shush, look busy, here comes someone.” The three sat silently working until the man pushing the cart was out of earshot.
“They tell all of us about those two machines, just to frighten the dickens out of us. You only go there when you misbehave, so watch your step.” Betsy jerked her head to the left intimating that someone was coming. Elana continued picking at the rope.
The tall man stopped beside Elana. “So another oakum picker. You best do it faster than that, because we need forty bushels by five o’clock. And no talking.” The warder moved on.
“Oakum?” Elana looked questioningly at Betsy and Daphne.
“That’s what it’s called when it’s pulled apart. They use it to seal up the seams in wooden ships or for mattresses. In fact, you sleep on oakum every night, if you’re one of the lucky ones with a mattress.”
“Just a hammock in my cell.” Elana was starting to work the pick so that she could work faster. “Are there other jobs like this?” She had to wait almost an hour before Betsy or Daphne answered her question. The warder walked back and forth watching their every move.
“Sewing, tailoring, joinery work or making herring nets are what most of us do. Some even get to work outside in the vegetable garden, but only the special ones get those jobs, and the price is high, if you know what I mean.” She looked at Elana as if they shared a secret, but Elana had no idea what she meant. However, she nodded to Betsy, as if she understood. “You will be here for a while. I’ve been here for two years and Daphne for one.”
The day passed by with the women talking whenever they could. Elana felt alive once again. She was having a real conversation, stilted and interrupted perhaps, but a real conversation, at long last. She had not realized how lonely she really was.
A couple of days later she asked, “How long are you in for?” Elana dreaded to think that she would be spending the rest of her life picking oakum.
“Lifer. You?” Betsy threw her oakum into the barrel.
“Same. What did you do to get in here?”
“Killed my husband, the miserable bastard. He beat me constantly and one day I just stuck him with the butcher knife, but it was worth it. At least no one has hit me in two years.” Elana looked at Betsy. She didn’t look strong enough to stab a man to death. She was getting a whole new education in prison. “What did you do?” Betsy asked Elana.
“Nothing. I was wrongly accused of killing my brother-in-law, but I didn’t do it.”
“You can tell us. We don’t care if you did.” Daphne chirped.
“I didn’t. I’m telling the truth.” The other two women exchanged a sympathetic look. Elana realized that no one would believe her, not even these two prisoners. She never protested her innocence again.
The day passed and Elana felt better than she had in almost six months. Although her hands ached every night, at least she had someone to talk to and she wasn’t on the treadmill. She soon learned that records were kept and if prisoners did not achieve what was expected, or disobeyed orders, they were punished. Daphne disappeared one morning and was not seen for a fortnight. When she came back she looked ten pounds lighter and ten years older. She had spent her time on the treadmill. Elana was very careful to fulfill her quota and keep as quiet as possible. Talking was not encouraged in the oakum room.
Elana’s hands would not stop bleeding from splitting the rope. After asking several times for something to stop the bleeding, the guard finally delivered a small jar of grease to her from the matron. At night she rubbed her hands with grease. It stung the cuts on her fingers, but it did help. The finger that she had broken when Lady Birmingham visited, ached badly at night. She rubbed it and tried to keep it warm. Sometimes she cursed Lady Birmingham under her breath. Prisoners only saw the doctor if they were critically ill or near death; she would have to work through the pain. Her life became a routine, each day the same as the one before. The cell was hot and stuffy in summer and cold and damp in winter.
After six long months, she finally received the news she had been waiting for. The guard informed her that she had a visitor and would be given 30 minutes in the visitor room. Elana fixed her hair and tied it back with her work scarf. She walked down the corridor with great anticipation. Door after door was opened and locked behind her. Finally, she arrived at the long room filled with tables and chairs and armed guards walking the perimeter. Visitors were ushered to the prisoner’s table and told not to touch or give the prisoner anything. Elana looked up in great anticipation as the door opened. The guard ushered a man into the room. It was Daniel. She almost screamed his name, but put
her hand to her mouth to stifle it. He looked around the room before seeing her. She watched him lovingly, until their eyes finally met. He followed the guard and sat down opposite his wife. Their eyes and their hearts were locked in an imaginary loving embrace. “Don’t touch and don’t try to give her anything.” The guard walked away.
Daniel stared at Elana and she stared back. “Oh, Daniel I can’t believe it is you, after all this time.” He was shocked at her bobbed hair and her dowdy gray prison garb, but he found that the loss of her crowning glory, made her somehow more, and not less feminine, as he would expect. She was still his beautiful Elana.
“How are you, Love? I miss you terribly.” He wanted to pull her close, but he knew he couldn’t and it was torturing him. “What happened to your hair?”
“They cut it off and we have no right to protest.” She looked into his eyes. “I love you, Daniel. I miss you so much.”
“And I you, my Love. It suits you like that. Your hair, I mean.” She smiled, appreciating that he was simply trying to make her feel less ugly than she did. They settled into a pleasant conversation.
She told him how she had kept sane the first four months by telling his stories over and over. It gave him some satisfaction that his tales were helping her when he could do nothing. She told him about the oakum and how she worked every day. He looked at the bent finger and felt such pain for her. She asked about her mother and Mary Margaret. Daniel told her as much as he could. The time passed too quickly.
The guard arrived to usher Daniel from the room. Daniel turned to her, “I will see you next month. Wait for my letters and I will send you more stories. I love you.” He walked away; his heart was breaking for her. She sat still until the door closed, and then she put her head in her hands and wept. She was happy to see him, but now she felt more alone than ever.
Elana had many strange thoughts go through her mind as she sat in her dank and dreary cell. She remembered one of Maude’s quotes, ‘What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; tis dearness only that gives everything its value.’ She applied this quote to freedom. She had taken it for granted when she had it, but now freedom was very highly rated in her heart and her soul and would never be taken for granted again. But now, it was too late. She groaned sadly; her freedom was gone forever. She and Daniel would never hold each other again. It made her want to die.
Daniel returned to the cottage and wrote dozens of stories for Elana. His visit haunted his dreams. Why had fate dealt them this horrible blow? He saw her face when he closed his eyes. He stared into the flames of the fire, and then sat down and wrote a poem about truth, to those that had locked his wife away for the rest of her life.
Stand beside, not upon
The fires of your soul
Feed the flames with vanity
Greed, hate and control
Add gossip, lies, folklore
Destroy it all this day
Now sit and watch the fire
Burn your false self away
When the flames to embers turn
Sift amongst the ash
There you find what you seek
The only truth, at last.
He put it away with the other poems, stories and drawings in his trunk. The writing helped him express his feelings and helped him to cope. He mailed a letter every week. Because the prison opened the mail before it was given to the prisoners, only half of Daniel’s stories reached her, but it was enough. It was a part of her husband and she held them close to her heart. She hung the drawings that he sent in her cell; scenes of the farm, the baby lambs and even Max driving the cart to market, all the beautiful things that she missed so much. They seemed to erode some of the dreariness. Visits were once a month and anything she could do to relieve her melancholy would help her get through until the next one.
Chapter Thirteen
During Elana’s initial six months in prison, Mary Margaret spent time in a hell of her own. She wrote to every boys’ school in one hundred miles looking for James, but could not find him. Not a day went by that she didn’t think of him and pray that she would find him soon.
Daniel and Max kept the farm running and the money coming in. Although the demand for wool was on the decline because of the rapid growth of cotton mills in England, Max was not worried. He explained to Mary Margaret that the market for meat and milk were on the rise. He would increase their beef and dairy production and grow more root vegetables.
Mary Margaret trusted Max completely. He knew what he was doing and the estate was prospering.
There was rental money from several warehouses that the Birmingham family owned, which also helped to support the estate.
At the three month mark in Elana’s incarceration, money became an issue. The solicitors had cost a great deal of money during Elana’s trial. The detective had not turned up any leads as yet, but the solicitors were still being paid to find James and the estate needed every penny. One morning while going over the ledgers, Mary Margaret realized that the yearly rent from the warehouses had not been deposited in her bank account. She was very disturbed, and Daniel and Doris suggested she go to the bank.
She walked into the bank in Manchester for her meeting with the bank manager. Wearing her gloves and a large hat, she smoothed the skirt of her dark green gown while she waited. She was nervous, but her need to find her son made her determined. She needed money and she would do whatever she had to do. “This way please, Lady Birmingham.” She walked into the office and sat in one of the large leather chairs in front of his mahogany desk. Mr. Taylor was a man of about fifty. Gray hair and mustache and well dressed, he made an instant impression on his clients. “What can I do for you today?”
“I was going over the ledger and my bank balance does not agree with my figures. In fact, it is out by several hundred pounds. I want you to explain why that is.” He looked over his glasses at her.
“Several hundred, you say? That is most unusual. Just one moment, please.” He stood up and excused himself, leaving her alone for several minutes. He returned with papers in his hand and set them on the desk. “It appears the money from your warehouse rents has been transferred to an Essex bank account. It was under your orders according to this signed statement and I am sure that is your discrepancy. You must have forgotten to note the transfer of funds in your ledger.”
Mary Margaret looked at him indignantly. “I did not forget anything and I did not transfer any funds I assure you, Mr. Taylor.”
He looked at her as if she was surely mistaken, perhaps still confused in her grief over her husband’s death. “Here is the signed transfer, Lady Birmingham.” He handed her the paper.
Her mouth dropped when she saw the signature. “This is not my signature! This is my mother-in-law’s signature and she should have no signing rights whatsoever. Her husband died and Charles Birmingham, my husband is, or was, the Lord Birmingham. This revoked her rights and passed them to me.”
“But Lady Birmingham, I am sure you signed this. My staff is very conscientious.”
“No, I did not! Look, it says Lady Evelyn Birmingham. It looks like your conscientious staff has made a very costly mistake. You will replace my funds immediately and you will remind your conscientious staff that I am the one and only Lady Birmingham now!” He looked at her and stood up quickly. As he made his way to the door, she added, “I will let you know if I am withdrawing all of my accounts from this bank when you come back.” The mention of her withdrawing all of the Birmingham accounts sent him into a panic.
Within minutes he was back. ”The money will be put back in your account, but it will take at least two weeks. We have sent a messenger to the Essex branch and everything should be straightened out soon. We are very sorry, your Ladyship, very sorry indeed.”
“I shall wait until everything is back in the account before I make my decision about withdrawing my accounts. Please have someone deliver a message to me, as soon as you have this fiasco taken care of. I have to tell you that I am very disappointed and
I know my friend, Lady Douglas, will be distressed when she hears about this. Her estate banks here as well.” Mary Margaret let her final comment sink in before rising from the chair.
Mr. Taylor was sweating profusely. He walked her to the door, apologizing over and over.
When she returned to the estate, Mary Margaret told Doris and Daniel what had happened. “It was Evelyn, again!” She was furious. “When are we going to find James and put that woman in jail where she belongs?” Doris just shook her head. Would this nightmare never end? Doris rested her hand on her stomach. She was feeling queasy again. She ignored it.
Daniel was thinking of a solution. He walked toward the windows and stared at the gardens. Soon he turned back toward the women. “I am going to go to the warehouses myself tomorrow. You write a letter instructing them to take orders from you and you alone. Tell them the payments are to be sent directly to you and only you. Make a copy for the solicitors and we can deliver it before I go. We need to take care of all the details now, Mary Margaret.” Under Max’s tutelage, Daniel was becoming a very good farm manager and he often made excellent suggestions to his sister-in-law. She appreciated him very much.
“Daniel, that would be a very prudent thing to do. Thank you, I will go and write that letter now.”
Mary Margaret went to the study, filled with a new vigor. Doris looked at Daniel proudly, “You are a big help to my daughter, Daniel. We are both happy that you are here.”
“I just wish Elana were here with us. I miss her terribly, Doris. I can’t wait to see her again. Six months will be a very long time.” He looked away sadly, fighting back the tears.
“I don’t understand why prisoners can’t have visitors for six months. It is absurd.”
“Doris, just thank God she didn’t get the death penalty. I could not bear it.”
“Daniel, I think Elana might have preferred that to life in that horrible place.” Doris began to sob and Daniel put his arms around her. In his heart, he had to agree with her. As he held his mother-in-law, Daniel realized that she had lost a lot of weight over the past few months. He hoped that Doris was not ill.
When Fate Steps In Page 14