by Dilly Court
She would have been the big sister like Mary had her infant siblings survived, and seeing them together made the loss of her family seem even more poignant. She could only hope that their father would regain his health and keep the family together, but having grown up in the slums Sarah was only too familiar with death and disease. She had seen first hand the debilitating illness that affected the lungs and killed indiscriminately, but she knew that Miss Elsie was doing her best for Mr Hawkes.
In an odd sort of way Sarah thought her mother would have approved of Miss Elsie and her valiant attempts to heal the sick. Perhaps Ma and Miss Elsie were alike in their courage and single-mindedness. The comparison had not occurred to her before, but there was comfort in the idea and it made Ma seem a little bit closer.
Holding her younger brothers by the hand, Mary crossed the street. ‘Here they are,’ she said, smiling proudly. ‘Jonah and Lemuel, I want you to meet this nice lady. Her name’s Sarah and she’s brought you some barley sugar.’
Sarah put her hand in her pocket and took out the poke. She had intended to eat the sweets herself but the sight of the motherless children, younger even than herself, filled her with pity. She gave the boys one each and they stuffed the sweets into their mouths like young animals gobbling a titbit before it could be taken from them. Sarah was suddenly aware that the other children had stopped their game of tag and were advancing upon her with eager looks on their faces. She had not nearly enough treats to go round and she was outnumbered.
‘Give us some.’ One of the bigger boys rushed at her but a shout from Miss Elsie sent him scurrying away. She strode out of the cottage gesticulating wildly.
‘Go away, you young rapscallions.’
They fled.
‘She’s a witch,’ Mary whispered through a mouthful of barley sugar. ‘Everyone says so.’
‘That’s nonsense,’ Sarah said sharply. ‘Miss Elsie is an apothecary.’
‘Is that like a witch?’ Mary stared nervously at Elsie, who had moved away to speak to an elderly woman.
Sarah lowered her voice. ‘Of course not, silly. She makes medicine to cure sick people like your dad.’
‘He’s going to go to heaven to join Ma.’
Jonah and Lemuel began to snivel in unison, wiping their runny noses on their sleeves.
Sarah was moved by pity for the motherless children and she shook her head. ‘Your dad is not going to die,’ she said firmly. ‘Miss Elsie will make him better. Now stop crying and let me take you to the pump and wash your faces.’
‘No.’ This time all three of them spoke as one.
Sarah grabbed the boys by their shirt collars and led them to the communal pump. ‘Come along, Mary. You can work the handle while I wash your brothers. Then it’s your turn.’
Reluctantly, Mary heaved on the wooden handle until water spilled into the stone trough. Sarah thrust Lemuel’s head beneath the water spout, ignoring his cries for mercy, and leaving him to shake himself like a wet dog she turned her attention to Jonah. She released him and he wiped his face and hands on Lemuel’s shirt tails before scurrying out of reach. She took the pump handle from Mary. ‘You’re next. Show them that girls are braver than boys.’
Mary did not look too certain but she allowed Sarah to sluice her with water. ‘I didn’t make a fuss,’ she said, wiping her face on her grubby pinafore.
Sarah took the poke from her pocket and gave it to Mary. ‘That’s for being good. Next time I come here I’ll expect to see clean faces and hands.’
‘Will you bring more sweets?’ Mary asked eagerly. ‘I’ll make ’em wash.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Sarah bent down and kissed Mary’s cool cheek. ‘You’re a good girl. I’ll come again, I promise.’
Elsie raised no objections and Sarah visited the Hawkes family at least twice a week until Mr Hawkes had recovered his health and was able to return to sea. She tried to remember everything that Dorcas had told her about dusting and sweeping, although luckily there were no precious porcelain ornaments to worry about now. On washdays Sarah carried the family’s soiled clothing to a nearby stream where the village women did their washing, and under their instruction she and Mary learned how to beat the garments on stones and rinse them in the fast-flowing water. It was laborious work for small hands but they managed it between them.
Sarah had become firm friends with Davey but she was shocked to discover that he could neither read nor write. His mother had tried to teach him but her health had always been fragile and he had never had the opportunity to attend school. He was eager to better himself by learning to read and wanted more from life than hauling nets of fish from the sea. Sarah was only too happy to help and she spent many warm summer evenings with the family teaching them their letters. She put into practice everything that Miss Parfitt had taught her and soon Davey was able to read the primer that he had bought from a stall in the market.
On an afternoon in early September Sarah and Davey arrived back at the cottage having spent the morning on the mudflats picking cockles. Sarah had abandoned her cotton sunbonnet and strands of hair bleached to the colour of tow curled around her tanned face and neck. She had looped her skirts up to prevent them from trailing in the mud and was barefoot, as was Davey, who had rolled his breeches up above his knees. They were laughing at something he had said as they hefted their catch onto the deck but Sarah paused, holding her finger to her lips. ‘I can hear voices.’ She cocked her head on one side. ‘It sounds like a man. It might be Grey – he promised he’d come to see me.’ She pushed past Davey to fling the door open. ‘Oh!’ She could not hide her disappointment as she saw that it was the schoolmaster, Mr Wills. ‘I’m sorry. I thought it was Grey.’ She was about to retreat when Elsie called her back.
‘Don’t go, child. Mr Wills has something he would like to say to you.’
‘Yes, sir?’ Sarah paused on the threshold, staring at the young man who had only recently come to the village.
His frock coat seemed to have been made for a smaller man, exposing frayed shirt cuffs, and his ink-stained fingers were clamped around the brim of his top hat as if he were afraid to put it down amongst the clutter on Elsie’s table. He peered at her over the top of his steel-rimmed spectacles, but there was a hint of a smile in his myopic blue eyes. ‘I’ve heard that you’ve been teaching the Hawkes children to read, Sarah.’
‘I have, sir.’
‘How old are you, Sarah?’
She shot a wary glance in Elsie’s direction and received a nod of approval. ‘I’ll be eleven next birthday, sir.’
‘You appear to have received a good education, and Mary has done well under your tutelage as have her brothers who are now old enough to attend school.’
‘I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand what you’re saying.’
‘You may know that the Church of England has seen fit to appoint me as schoolmaster in charge of the new village school. The local children will receive a free education at last.’
‘I’ve seen the new buildings, sir.’
‘Well, to put it simply, I cannot afford to employ another qualified teacher but I’m prepared to take you on to help me with the younger children. You may be little more than a child yourself and a female, but I think you might prove very useful.’
Elsie bridled, clearing her throat noisily. ‘Just because Sarah is a girl does not mean that she is brainless, Mr Wills. There will come a time when all female children will receive the same advantages as those given to their male siblings.’
‘Yes, no doubt,’ he said, coughing nervously. ‘But I can assure you that is not the case now. In the normal course of things Sarah would be working in a manufactory or in service, and I think she is very fortunate to have been taken on as an apprentice by someone with your background, Miss Fitch.’
‘She is indeed.’ Elsie nodded vehemently. ‘But nothing is for nothing, Mr Wills.’
Davey stuck his head round the door. ‘What’s going on?’ He spotted the schoolmaster and fro
wned. ‘What’s old inky doing here?’
‘Less of your cheek, young Hawkes.’ Mr Wills flushed to the roots of his light brown hair, which was already receding at the temples, giving him the appearance of a much older man. ‘This has nothing to do with you, my boy.’
Davey moved swiftly to Sarah’s side. ‘She’s my friend and she needs a man to stick up for her.’
Mr Wills raised a sandy eyebrow. ‘You’re nothing but a callow youth, Hawkes. I’m offering Sarah a chance to better herself and to further her education.’
‘Go on, schoolmaster,’ Davey said, slipping his arm around Sarah’s shoulders.
‘I’m speaking to Sarah, not you.’ Mr Wills leaned towards her. ‘You will spend two hours a morning at the school helping the younger children with their lessons, and I will see to it that you have all the reading matter and extra tuition that you require to help you in your studies. Miss Fitch tells me that you would make an excellent apothecary and one day you might want to set up your own pharmacy.’
Sarah stared at him in surprise. ‘I’ve never given it a thought, sir.’
‘I may not always be here,’ Miss Fitch said wearily. ‘I might fly away like a migrating swallow, never to return. You won’t be with me forever, Sarah.’
Mr Wills shot a warning glace at Davey. ‘Let the girl speak for herself, Hawkes.’ He turned his attention to Sarah, curving his thin lips into a smile which was not mirrored in his eyes. ‘May I have your answer? I need to know now, or I will have to look elsewhere for an assistant.’
Chapter Eight
SARAH WENT ROUND the schoolroom collecting up the slates and slate pencils. The children had gone and the room seemed empty without their bright faces and incessant chatter. It was five years since Mr Wills had asked her to spend a couple of hours a day helping the younger children with their letters and numbers, and she had loved every minute of it. In the beginning Elsie had been reluctant to allow her to devote time to the school, but earlier that summer, when Mr Wills was thrown from his horse and suffered a broken arm and leg, she had grudgingly given her permission for Sarah to take all his classes, and Sarah had been only too happy to oblige. She could still recall Pearl Parfitt’s lessons and if there was one person in the world whom she would like to emulate, it was her beautiful Miss Perfect. Memories of the good times in the Arbuthnots’ household had gradually faded into a pleasant dream, but Sarah still missed Nettie. Just thinking about her old friend made her smile as she stacked the slates in the book cupboard.
She took a last look round the room to make certain that nothing was left out of place. It would never do if Mr Wills came in on Monday morning and found disorder in his beloved school. Satisfied that everything was in order she took her bonnet from its peg and put it on, tying the blue satin ribbons into a bow beneath her chin. She did not need to check her appearance in the mirror to know that it was becoming; Davey had told her so on numerous occasions, making her blush but pleasing her all the same. She picked up her reticule and stepped outside, locking the door behind her. Taking deep breaths of the autumnal air filled with the fruity richness of damp earth and a hint of bonfire smoke, she started out across the school yard. The leaves on an ancient oak tree at the edge of the main street were beginning to change colour, and silhouetted against the blue sky a skein of wild geese flew in perfect formation, heading towards their winter breeding grounds. Although the sun was warm on her face she knew that winter would soon be upon them, and there was little time left to gather herbs for Elsie’s potions before the frosts came.
Sarah was careful to divide her time so that she could continue to help Elsie, but since a tragic accident at sea that took the life of their father there was also Davey’s family to consider. Alfred Hawkes had been lost overboard during one of the vicious winter storms two years previously. Davey had been on the boat at the time but there had been nothing he could do to save his father’s life. Sarah had helped him through the bitter grieving process, and even though she was only a few years their senior she had become a surrogate mother to the younger children. She had seen Davey grow to manhood almost overnight, and they had become even closer as a result of the tragedy. She knew only too well what it was like to lose both parents at a young age, and she was always ready to listen to his problems, which were many as he was now the father figure in his small family and the main provider. Times were often hard for the east coast fishermen, and despite his impressive physical stature and strength Sarah knew that Davey at nineteen was still a boy at heart. Just thinking about him brought a smile to her face, but there was nothing romantic in their relationship even though the village gossips seemed to think they were sweethearts.
She set off for the cottage to check on the Hawkes children as she wanted to be certain that Mary had given the twins their midday meal of bread and cheese, and that they could manage on their own until Davey returned from his fishing trip later that day. She walked along the main street, acknowledging the friendly greetings of the women who were chatting in their doorways or waiting at the pump to draw water. It gave her a warm feeling to know that she was now accepted as one of them. It was strange to think that a few short years ago she had been a frightened child, longing to return to the life she knew in London, and now this was her home.
Although they had never talked about the future it seemed like a foregone conclusion that one day she and Davey would marry and raise their family in the tiny cottage overlooking the creek. There were other young men in the village who had shown her marked attention, asking her to dance at the church social or offering to take her to the fair when it came to the nearby town, and on these occasions Davey had stepped in and her would-be suitors had melted away. But the attitude of one person in particular was causing her concern. She had noticed that before his accident had kept him housebound Mr Wills had been very keen to ask her opinion on a number of different topics, and had made excuses to detain her after school, although on each occasion he had behaved like a perfect gentleman. He had given her a leather-bound prayer book for her last birthday, about which Davey had teased her mercilessly, saying that Wills was old enough to be her father and did she really want to be an old man’s darling? She had tossed her head and turned away to hide her blushes, but she had seen her employer in a new light and had not felt entirely comfortable in his presence since that day. His absence due to the accident had given her some respite and she tried to convince herself that it was all her imagination, but now his return approached she was not so sure.
Putting such thoughts out of her mind, she entered the cottage to find the children seated on their stools munching their food with evident relish. ‘Good,’ she said, smiling. ‘You’re looking after the boys like a little mother, Mary.’
‘She’s bossy,’ Lemuel said with his mouth full.
‘She won’t let us have cake,’ Jonah added, frowning.
Mary pulled a face. ‘The baker’s wife gave us some fruit cake in exchange for a dozen herring, but it’s for tea tonight when Davey comes home.’
‘That’s right,’ Sarah said, trying not to laugh at the expression on the twins’ faces. ‘You must be firm with these two, Mary. But I can see that you’re managing very well without me.’
Mary leapt up from her seat. ‘Won’t you stay for a while, please, Sarah?’
‘I can’t, love. I wish I could but I promised Miss Elsie that I’d help her this afternoon. Maybe I’ll come back this evening when I’ve done all my chores at home. How about that?’
‘You can have some cake if you do,’ Jonah said, winking.
She ruffled his short hair. ‘You’re a cheeky boy, Jonah Hawkes.’
‘I’ll save you a slice.’ Mary rushed over to her and gave her a hug. ‘Please come. Davey’s always in a better mood when you’re here.’
‘Is he now? Well, I’ll have to tell him off if he’s grumpy with you when you all work so hard.’ Sarah retreated to the doorway, blowing them a kiss. ‘Boys, you can practise your alphabet and show Mr Wills ho
w clever you are when he returns on Monday.’ She paused as she was about to step outside. ‘And do what your sister says. It won’t only be Davey who gets cross with you if I hear bad things when I return.’ She left with the sound of their promises ringing in her ears, although she doubted very much whether they would remember her words once she was out of sight. The boys were a handful and Mary had only just celebrated her tenth birthday, but at least the woman who lived next door was always ready to step in when needed. Mother Johnson had raised eleven children of her own and was a kindly soul who would have done more for the orphans had it not been for her rheumatics.
Sarah made her way towards the saltings with a spring in her step. It was still a lovely day and tonight she would see Davey. They would eat cake and drink tea together as they sat by the fire discussing the day’s events, and when the young ones were safely tucked up in their beds Davey would walk her home across the marsh. She felt like singing as she took the shortcut through the woods, and when she came across Grey’s cart with Boxer placidly nibbling at the grass she was doubly happy. She had not seen him since Easter and she always looked forward to his visits. She stopped to make a fuss of the old horse but then she smelled something that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with fear. She turned and saw smoke rising in the air above the trees. The acrid odour of burning wood and pitch could only mean one thing. Fire!
She raced across the clearing and emerged from the trees at the edge of the track. A cry of horror was wrenched from her lips. The cottage was ablaze sending pillars of black smoke billowing into the azure sky. For a moment she was frozen to the spot but then she saw Grey stagger out of the building carrying Elsie in his arms. Sarah broke into a run. ‘Is she all right?’
He shook his head. ‘She’s badly burned.’
‘Let me help you.’
‘Go and lay some sacks on the floor of the cart. We’ve got to get her to a physician as quickly as possible.’