‘I never!’ shouted Eldon Cross. ‘I didn’t go near her, Smoaker. I swear I didn’t go near her! You lying little cow!’
Ma bent over Marnie and tried to lift her from the floor. ‘Come on and get up from there now. And hush that noise.’ Marnie turned her head to make sure Ma got a good look at the graze she’d got on her cheek from earlier. It was hard not to laugh seeing the looks on their faces.
Ma gasped. ‘Smoaker! He’s bashed her face. Look. See?’ She twisted Marnie’s head so Smoaker could see her cheek.
‘Wasn’t me!’ bleated Eldon Cross. ‘I been here all the time. She went out, she did. She went out!’
But it was too late. Smoaker was across the room and his fat fist crunched into Eldon Cross’s face. Ma pulled Marnie out of the way as Eldon crashed to the floor. The room went still for a moment as Smoaker hovered, fists clenched, and Eldon lay unmoving. Marnie’s heart was bubbling fast, like a pan of milk coming to the boil; a few plain words and she’d made all this happen!
Then Eldon groaned and lifted his head from the floor. Blood, glistening and thick as bramble jelly, seeped from his nostrils. ‘You get out of here now,’ Smoaker demanded. ‘Fetch your things and clear off!’
Eldon put his fingers to his nose and smeared the stickiness across his face as he felt for damage. ‘She’s a lying little tart, Smoaker. I never went near her.’ He groaned as he stood up. ‘You ask her where she goes at night. See what she says then.’ He turned his head and stared down at Marnie. ‘Why would I lower meself to touch a cripple? A whoring cripple at that.’
Ma sat heavily in her chair and Marnie crawled to her and pushed her face into the lap of Ma’s worn cotton nightgown. ‘Don’t let him touch me again, Ma,’ she said, making her voice tremble. ‘He scares me, Ma. He scares me.’
Ma put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. ‘You leave us now, Mr Cross,’ she said. ‘Don’t go saying any more. Just go.’
Eldon Cross lurched towards the bedchamber. ‘Don’t bleedin’ worry. I’m off. But don’t think you’ve heard the last of this.’
Marnie kept her head buried in Ma’s lap and listened to Eldon’s banging and crashing in the bedchamber. Nep padded into the kitchen, mewling loudly. But no one else moved or said a word. Pushed into Ma’s nightgown, Marnie’s face grew hot and her cheek began to sting. The musty scent of Ma’s sweat filled her head and for a moment Marnie was five years old again, with no idea of what the world had in store for her. She wished she could fall asleep and not wake again till it was all over.
Then she heard Eldon’s voice again, muffled through the depths of Ma’s lap. ‘I’ll have you off the pier for this, Smoaker. See if I don’t. And as for her … she needs locking in the madhouse!’ The kitchen door rattled on its hinges as Eldon slammed out.
Marnie could hardly believe it. She smiled into Ma’s nightgown.
‘Right, my girl.’ Ma shifted her legs. ‘You’d better get up and explain yourself.’
Marnie sat up slowly and put her hand to her cheek. ‘He hit me, Ma, I told you.’ Marnie kept her voice small. ‘He … he tried to kiss me. And … and other things. I didn’t want to do them, Ma. I told you I don’t like him. I told you!’
Ma got up from her chair and adjusted her shawl. A thin wheeze escaped from her chest on every out breath. She walked over to Smoaker and stood next to him with her arms crossed under her bosom. Smoaker rubbed at his knuckles and scowled at Marnie. ‘There’s no truth in what he said, is there? That you been going out at nights?’
Marnie shook her head.
‘You haven’t been going down to them workers’ huts, have you?’ Smoaker took a deep breath.‘Whoring yourself?’
‘No! No! I swear!’ Marnie squeezed a tear from her eye.
‘Well, there’s plenty round here that would,’ said Smoaker, ‘and a few that does.’
‘But not me!’ said Marnie. ‘How could you think that of me?’
In the sickly half-light of early morning, Marnie saw Smoaker’s face darken under his grey whiskers. There was a long silence.
‘No point in going back to bed,’ he said eventually. ‘How about some tea?’ He took his pipe from the mantelpiece and sat in his chair.
‘I thought he was such a decent man,’ said Ma. ‘Can’t understand why he’d do such a thing.’ She stomped to the fireplace and shoved the poker angrily into the dead ashes. ‘We’ve lost the rent too now,’ she grumbled. ‘That’s the worst of it.’
‘I’ll set the fire, shall I?’ asked Marnie tentatively.
As she pottered around, putting her bedding away, fetching kindling and filling the kettle, Marnie tried not to smile. She wanted to rush straight out, up to the manor and tell Noah what she’d done. It’d been the simplest of things. And she’d done it for him. After what had just happened on the beach, she couldn’t have another man paying her attentions. She’d had to get rid of Eldon straight away. And now Noah wouldn’t have to ask his father for help. He hadn’t seemed too keen to do that anyway. Sir John de Clevedon was a busy man, after all.
It was a good thing that she’d done. Goodness knows Eldon had been ready to jump on her to claim a kiss. And that wasn’t right.
She was Noah’s for good now. And that was that.
40
The Journal of Noah de Clevedon
Clevedon. NOVEMBER 1st 1868, Sunday (one o’clock in the morning)
I am no longer an innocent. I don’t know whether to feel ashamed of myself or exhilarated. Arnold would laugh at me if he knew how confused I am. ‘Come, man,’ he would say. ‘You have to be broken in sometime.’
It was not a perfect set of circumstances, I will admit. A pebbled beach is not the most comfortable of places. But Marnie was so willing and so encouraging. She lit such a fire inside of me, I’m afraid I was perhaps too hurried with her. I have to say, though, I would be surprised if she was as new to it all as me.
But it is done now, and finally I am a real man. And at least now I will have some experience to offer on my wedding night. Arnold has always said that it is best the first time is with a harlot or a girl from the lower classes.
I feel guilty that I did not tell Marnie of our impending departure, but last night we had other things on our minds. I will go to her one last time and let her know. She will be happy for me, I am sure.
I cannot believe I will be seeing Arnold soon. It is only a matter of days now before we travel back to London. And Cissie Baird. How good it will be to see her again.
41
The Last Kiss
Marnie put her hand to her belly. It was a week now since Noah had shown his love for her. Marnie knew that what they’d done was how babies were made and she was certain they had made one that night. She could feel it in her blood. Every day she’d been desperate to go up to the manor to see Noah. She wanted him to know how happy she was, and to tell him that if a baby was coming they’d best get married as soon as possible.
But after Eldon Cross had left, Ma had kept her so busy there hadn’t been a chance. All week she’d worked Marnie’s fingers to the bone, like she was punishing her for something she wouldn’t say. Marnie had scrubbed and pummelled and pressed a mountain of linen. She’d fetched countless buckets of water from the pump and she’d cleaned and aired Eldon’s bedchamber to rid it of his sour smell. She was back in there at nights now, with Ma’s brooding bulk beside her.
Ma wouldn’t shut up about Eldon. All week she’d been going on. ‘You lost out there, my girl,’ she said. ‘We can’t afford to keep you for ever. You’d have done all right with Eldon. He’d have kept you well enough. Who else is going to want you?’
Marnie had kept quiet all week. She wanted to give Noah a chance to tell his father about her. She wanted to wait for Noah to come to the cottage for her. She wanted to see Ma and Smoaker’s faces when they found out her suitor was the son of Sir John de Clevedon, no less. It would be a sight worth waiting for.
But Ma wouldn’t let up. At supper that night, she was at it again. ‘If o
nly you’d been nicer to Eldon. If you hadn’t led him on. A man can only be teased so far, you know. You’ll regret this, my girl, you mark my words. When no one else wants you and you end up an old maid, you’ll wish to God you’d been nicer to that poor man.’
Marnie couldn’t hold it in any longer. The secret bubbled up inside her and came spitting out along with the bacon broth she was trying to swallow. ‘Shut up, Ma!’ she shouted.
Ma’s spoon clattered to the table.
‘Someone else does want me!’ Marnie wiped the broth from her chin with the back of her hand.
Ma’s mouth dropped open. ‘What do you mean, someone else wants you?’
‘Noah de Clevedon,’ Marnie said carefully. ‘Noah de Clevedon’s in love with me and is sure to be asking me to marry him soon.’
Ma stared at her for a moment. She looked across the table at Smoaker and raised her eyebrows. ‘Hear that, Smoaker? Our Marnie’s got herself a gentleman suitor.’
‘Oh aye,’ said Smoaker. ‘I heard well enough.’
‘Noah de Clevedon you say, eh? Well, I beg your pardon, my lady. You have done all right for yourself then.’
‘You’d best go and buy yourself a new bonnet,’ said Smoaker. ‘If we’ve a wedding to go to.’
Marnie looked at Smoaker, then at Ma. They were smirking and winking at each other.
‘It’s true,’ she shouted. ‘Me and Noah love each other!’
A laugh burst out of Ma’s mouth and Smoaker smiled broadly.
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ said Marnie. ‘Why don’t you believe me?’
But Ma only laughed louder. ‘I always thought you were barmy, my girl, and you’ve gone and proved it now. Oh ,Smoaker,’ she gasped between laughs. ‘She’s going to end up in the madhouse for sure!’
Marnie pushed herself to standing. ‘Don’t laugh at me,’ she said. She was angry now. Her ears were pounding. ‘It’s all true. And soon you’ll know it. You won’t be laughing when I’m living up at the manor and you’re still scratching around down here!’
Ma wiped tears from her eyes. She took a deep breath. ‘Now, my girl,’ she said. ‘You’ve got to stop saying such things. It’ll get you into trouble if you’re not careful. People round here already think you’re not right in the head. Why can’t you just act ordinary, like the rest of us?’
Marnie shoved her chair back and walked clumsily to the fireplace. She grabbed her stick and made for the door. ‘I’ll show you,’ she said as she left the cottage. ‘Just you wait. You won’t be laughing at me for long.’
***
Marnie was out of breath by the time she reached the esplanade. ‘Why won’t they believe me, Pa?’ she kept asking. ‘You know it’s true, don’t you?’ She ignored the stares of passers-by and the taunts of a straggle of children who ran after her shouting,
‘Marnie Gunn, Marnie Gunn
Where’s her brain?
She hasn’t one!’
Then Mistress Miles walked by and touched Marnie on the arm and asked, ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ spat Marnie. ‘Just leave me alone, you old cow!’
Mistress Miles’s hand fluttered to her mouth and she gave a little squeak before hurrying off.
The church bells chimed six. It would be hours yet before Noah came to the beach. But Marnie didn’t care. She would wait as long as she had to. At least it was dusk now and the village was emptying.
No one bothered Marnie as she huddled against the railings, watching the workers on the beach put their tools away and march up the slipway to their lodgings. She watched as those left on the beach lit lamps and set small fires to burn outside their huts. The smells of charred wood and fish skin blistered in flames drifted up to her and made her belly growl.
The sky darkened to charcoal and the movements on the beach slowed until all was still except for the shifting embers of dying fires and the flickering of the lamp in the night watchman’s hut.
Marnie stretched her arms and pulled herself to standing. Her whole body ached, but more for Noah than it did from the pain of her leg, which was stiff and sore from sitting for so long. It must be soon now. She’d counted the church bells as they’d struck seven, eight, nine and then ten times. She walked awkwardly. A few steps along the esplanade and a few steps back, to get the blood flowing in her legs. She rubbed at her arms and pinched her cheeks and stared as far as she could see in the darkness towards the road up to the manor.
Marnie had no doubt that Noah would come. She just had to wait, that was all.
His face was a splash of white in the distance when she first saw him. She watched as he came closer and the outline of him became clearer. Her anger at Ma and Smoaker melted away and she wished she could run to Noah. She wanted to fly the distance between them and feel the realness and warmth of him.
He wasn’t hurrying, though. He had his hands in his pockets and he was strolling for all the world like it was a sunny afternoon. Marnie wanted to shout his name out loud; to make sure he’d seen her waiting there for him. But she bit her tongue and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground.
As he neared her, she raised her hand and waved at him. Her heart was beating so fast she felt bruised with the pain of it. ‘Hello, Marnie,’ he said.
‘Noah,’ she breathed. She felt suddenly shy. The memory of what they’d done the week before pounded low down in her belly and burned in her private place.
‘Are you well?’ he asked her.
Marnie nodded.
‘Good,’ he said. He looked around, then yawned into the back of his hand.
‘Are … are you well?’ Marnie asked.
‘Very well,’ said Noah. ‘Yes, thank you.’
He hadn’t looked at her properly yet. And he seemed ill at ease somehow. Perhaps he would be better on the beach, where there were no eyes to spy them.
‘Shall we go for a swim?’ Marnie asked brightly.
‘No … no,’ said Noah. ‘I … I did not mean to swim tonight. I came to tell you some news.’
Marnie waited, her heart fat with expectation. Had he told his father about her? Was it good news?
Noah hesitated. He reached out for Marnie’s hand and when he took it she was so thankful she gasped.
‘Mother and I are going back to London,’ said Noah. ‘That is what I came to tell you.’
Noah’s fingers squeezed kindly around her hand. They were so cold. She wanted to lift them to her mouth and warm them with her breath. ‘Did you hear me, Marnie?’ he said.
Marnie had heard, but it was as though everything had stopped: her heart, her breath, the winds, the tide. It all stood still and waiting, like frightened deer in a forest. Then in a rush, a wave broke on the shingle and Marnie caught her breath. ‘To … to London?’ she whispered.
‘Yes,’ said Noah. ‘We leave on Tuesday.’
‘For ever?’ The word slid slowly and timidly out of Marnie’s mouth.
‘No. Not for ever,’ Noah said. ‘We will be back at Easter for the opening of the pier.’
‘Easter?’ Marnie’s voice cracked. ‘That’s for ever.’
‘Your fingernails,’ said Noah. ‘They are digging into my hand.’
Marnie pulled her hand away and let her arms drop to her side. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. An ache was growing behind her eyes, a tide of tears threatening to spill. She couldn’t look at Noah or speak.
There was a long silence. Another wave broke lazily on the shingle. ‘I have to go,’ said Noah. ‘I have to get back to the manor now.’ Still Marnie couldn’t look at him. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat.
‘What about me?’ she managed to say as she stared down at her sand-scuffed boots.
‘You?’ said Noah. ‘You will be fine, Marnie. Listen. We are still friends, aren’t we?’
Marnie nodded. They were more than friends, weren’t they?
‘You will come back?’
‘I told you,’ said Noah, his voice growing lighter. ‘I will be back at Easter. It is
not so far away. Then we can celebrate the new pier! I will meet you here on the beach, the first night I am back!’
Marnie rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. Still she couldn’t look at him. Her jaw and eyes throbbed with the effort of keeping her tears at bay. Suddenly Noah leaned towards her and cupped the side of her face in his hand. Marnie blinked hard. Then she felt something soft and warm on her clamped lips. It was light and fleeting and as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Marnie put her fingers to her lips.
‘Goodbye, Marnie Gunn,’ said Noah. ‘Don’t forget to wait for me on the beach.’
Then he was gone. Before she’d even had a chance to tell him there might be a baby in her belly. He was away, across the shingle and back up the beach steps to the esplanade. Marnie stood with her fingers still pressed to her lips. She thought if she moved her hand, the kiss would disappear and she’d have nothing at all left of him.
She walked awkwardly and stiffly towards the sea, her fingers still pressed to her mouth. Her chest hurt. A deep pain twisted around and pulled at her heart. When she reached the water’s edge she let the incoming waves slosh over her boots as she stared far out to where the stars dropped from the sky. Her fingers fell from her mouth. ‘I wish you was here, Pa,’ she whispered. ‘I need you to tell me what to do.’
She put her stick down on the shingle and slowly undressed. First her boots, then her frock, then her shift and lastly her drawers. She dropped the clothes next to her stick and walked without thought into the sea. When she’d gone far enough out, she lifted her feet and began to swim. It was only then that she let the tears come. Hot, painful tears that burned her eyes and made her wail like a stricken cat. She plunged her head under the water and let the salt of her tears mingle with the salt of the sea, until she couldn’t tell which was which.
42
The Journal of Noah de Clevedon
Clevedon. NOVEMBER 9th 1868, Monday
The Madness Page 13