by Nicola Upson
13 January
The sky was grey and heavy early on and it look’d like snow but then the sun came out and everywhere thaw’d quickly. Cut sandwiches and took them up to the men workin’ the top field. Help’d Samuel fill two cartloads of turnips to feed the cattle and it was nice to be out in the air for a bit, even tho’ it was cold. He talk’d about his little girl, who has just had her third birthday, and we pass’d the time until I had to go back. He is easy to talk to and seem’d glad of the company. He has been with the Corders longer than I have and he felt the Master’s death sorely. It was nice to see him smile.
Maria was out walkin’ by the barn and came as far as the village green with me. She is goin’ to town next week with Mr Matthews and his friends and she pester’d me to ask the Missis for an evenin’ off to go with her. I said I had no time ow’d me, which is a lie, but I w’d rather not go. Such company is not for me. Maria teas’d me and said I was dull and old afore my time and she is right, so I will ask if I get the chance. Waited up for William before I c’d lock up. It was gone midnight when he came in.
Josephine went indoors to fetch her copy of Curtis’s book; she was still only familiar with the principal names in the case, and wanted to get every nuance out of Hester’s writing. A quick glance through the account of the trial told her that Peter Matthews was the father of Maria’s second child, the boy who had lived and whom she named Thomas Henry. Matthews was related to the Cooks of Polstead Hall, not resident in the village but a frequent visitor from London. His sister and brother-in-law owned most of the village, including the land farmed by the Corders. Hilary had been right: Maria’s ambition was admirable and, if Hester’s account was accurate, Matthews’s affection for Maria did not seem to have waned after the birth of a bastard son. That in itself said much for her charms.
The next few entries were taken up with domesticity, an exhausting round of cooking, errands and cleaning things that Josephine didn’t even know needed cleaning; it was an authentic insight into how hard the life of a servant was in those days, and it made Josephine ashamed of the fuss she made over the most basic of chores, but it was Maria who interested her and she skim-read until she found another entry that mentioned her.
17 January
The Missis went out and Maria spent the afternoon with me in the kitchen. I watch’d her as she held Thomas Henry in her lap, she so fond of him and he of her, and wish’d that other people c’d see her as she was then. However many mistakes she has made, she w’d not be parted from him for all the world, and she is right not to care what people say. I am happy for them, but had to shake myself from the foolishness that comes to me when I am idle and be glad that I am too busy most days to feel lonely.
21 January
Up early to sew at my new dress for tonight. It was a poor job, and I wish’d I had spent more nights sewin’ and fewer scribblin’ in my diary, but it hardly matters with nobody lookin’ at me. Hurried through my work, left supper ready, and was early for once to meet Maria. We gossip’d in the coach all the way, and I forgot my nerves in the pleasure of being with her and wish’d that it c’d be just the two of us all evenin’.
Bury is a nice town and I was pleas’d to see it again. The coach took us past the gaol and dropp’d us in the market place and – it bein’ Reckonin’ day – there were plenty of people out in the streets with money in their pockets. The inns were spillin’ out onto the pavements, and we had to push our way through the crowds to get to the hotel opposite the old Abbey Gate where we was to meet Mr Matthews and his friends. Maria can look and talk like a lady when she chooses, and she was surely as pretty as any other in the room. People were kindly enough, but I was too shy to talk much and they soon forgot me in all the laughin’ and dancin’, which pleas’d me. It is such a different world from what I am used to and I c’d never be as comfortable in it as Maria, nor truly myself. Mr Matthews and Maria were not so close tonight, although he is always courteous and attentive. She was quiet the whole journey back, and I c’d not lift her spirits. Went straight to bed, knowin’ I w’d be up again in a couple of hours, but was too tired to sleep and wrote my diary instead. I shall be fit for nothin’ tomorrow.
31 January
Rain in the night, then a damp, grey mornin’ with a fog that w’d not lift. There is no weather more dreary, and we have our fair share of it here. Counted a score of aconites in the front garden, tho’, and the ground is thick with daffodils, so there is hope of spring. Have hardly seen Maria since Bury.
She had only finished the first month, but already Josephine had a better sense of the real Maria than she had managed to glean from any of the factual accounts she had read, and she wondered at the power of fiction to bring history to life. Compared with her own faltering attempts to write accurately about Claverhouse’s childhood, Hester’s casual biographical sketches were vivid and convincing, and Josephine began to feel even less enthusiastic about the pact she had made with truth in her latest book. Briefly, she toyed with the idea of telling John Graham’s story through the eyes of a soldier who had served with him, but such an approach was enough to bring on apoplexy among the more earnest historical reviewers as well as from the publisher who had commissioned the book. Reluctantly, she abandoned the idea and left the freedom it offered to Hester.
11 February
The sun came up in a rare blaze of gold and the sky was streak’d with colour. Swept the steps and shook the mats, glad to get plenty o’ fresh air into my lungs and light into the house. This afternoon Thomas and William had words about William goin’ off for days and not doin’ his share around the farm. The Missis smooth’d things over and sided with William as usual. How she spoils him!
It is my birthday tomorrow, so I am waitin’ up to see it in. I shall be 24 yrs old, and will have spent ½ my life in service and a ¼ of it in this house.
12 February
The Missis wish’d me happy returns and gave me leave to take myself off this afternoon, so I call’d round to see Maria. She left Thomas Henry with her sister and we went for a long walk through Dollop’s Wood. The birds were full of song and we stood for a long time and listen’d to them, just as we used to when we were girls and had nowhere to be and nothin’ to fret about. Maria seem’d more herself, and gave me a green silk handkerchief and a little silver brooch, nicer than anythin’ I have ever owned. She told me that Mr Matthews had sent the money for Thomas Henry, like he does every month, and I said she sh’d not spend it so, but she laugh’d and said that 5 pounds was more than enough for the family, and she w’d rather spend it on me than hand it over to her stepmother.
Met Samuel outside the Cock Inn. I made a bet with him that he c’d not guess my age and won sixpence, so we all had beer. I put on the brooch and tied the handkerchief round my neck like a lady, and Samuel said they look’d nice on me, which I was pleas’d about because he once told me that I was plainly dress’d, without an ounce of pride in me. He meant it nicely but a girl does not always want to feel plain and humble, even if she is.
13 February
Open’d the shutters to a dreary day. Got the Missis’s clothes ready for her goin’ to Stoke this afternoon. It was still rainin’ as she left and I carried the umbrella over her to the front gate and help’d her into the carriage. No sooner had it pull’d away than Maria was at the back door, wantin’ me to help her make a Valentine. I was glad to see her brighter than she has been of late. I said how pleas’d I was that she and Mr Matthews were gettin’ on again, but she smil’d and said that the Valentine was not for him. She w’d not tell me who she means to give it to, which vex’d me because it is the first secret we have had that I can remember, tho’ I tried not to seem bother’d by it. She dar’d me to make one for Samuel, and because I was vex’d with her I did. I shall not send it.
Hester’s anonymous diarist was beginning to intrigue Josephine. She had the right balance of common sense and humour to comment perceptively but without judgement on Maria’s hopes and dreams, and enough spi
rit and vulnerability to be interesting in her own right. As she read on, Josephine found herself looking less often for Maria’s name, and caught up instead in the life of the narrator.
14 February
Got up and put the Valentine on the kitchen fire first thing in case I got the better of myself. It is only harmless fun but I do not want to become fond of Samuel and start hopin’ for things I sh’d not be hopin’ for. He likes my company, I think, but he w’d not want me for a sweetheart.
22 February
Up at 6 and birds singin’ by ½ past. Clean’d Master William’s room before dinner and found the Valentine Maria made hidden in a book, but heard him comin’ down the landin’ before I c’d look inside. To bed at 11 with my diary, but cannot concentrate for worryin’ about Maria and the trouble she will get herself into.
6 March
The Missis away for two weeks to stay with her daughter at Sproughton, and the chance of a good spring clean at last! Set to clearin’ all rubbish out of the understairs cupboard, which I never have time to do with the Missis to look after. Thought I heard Maria callin’ from the kitchen, and went to tell her I was too busy to stop and w’d see her later, but soon saw it was not me she was after. She smil’d at me and put a finger to her lips and follow’d William up the back stairs and I was glad that he had not seen me. I cannot stop thinkin’ of the trouble Maria got into with Thomas, and what the Missis will do if she finds out. Did not see Maria leave. William went out later with his brothers. Left the door on the latch for them.
9 March
Thomas and John out early to help with the lambin’, so only two breakfasts to make. William says nothin’ but he watches me now whenever I am in the room as tho’ darin’ me to speak of his secret. Maria has been here every day.
Alone in the house for the rest of the mornin’ and enjoy’d havin’ the chance to finish one job without the Missis movin’ me on to another. Samuel turn’d up at the back door and ask’d if I w’d look after little Molly for the afternoon as his sister had been taken ill and he has no one else. I know what it w’d mean for him to lose a day’s wages and with the Missis away there is no harm in it. We muddled along together and she seem’d content enough to sit on the table and play with the spoons while I did my bakin’ and chattered away about nothin’. I enjoy’d havin’ her and it was nice to stop thinkin’ about Maria, so I told Samuel he could bring her tomorrow if his sister is no better.
14 March
Pick’d some primroses, the first of the year, and Molly help’d me put them in bowls for the house. I am gettin’ us’d to havin’ her and she is no trouble, sunny and gentle like her father, altho’ she has a streak of mischief which is as it sh’d be at her age. God knows I sh’d not wish ill health on anybody, but I shall be sorry to lose her when poor Hannah is well again.
Maria came over with Thomas Henry this afternoon but William was not back from Stoke and I had her to myself at last. Tried to talk to her but she can see no wrong in what she is doin’ and she chang’d the subject whenever I reminded her of that poor baby lyin’ in the churchyard and all the trouble she had playin’ the same game with Master Thomas. Then William came back and Maria went upstairs with him and left me to look after TH as well. There is only a few months between him and Molly, so I put them together on the floor in front of the range, and they play’d nicely enough until Maria went home.
16 March
Hannah was well enough to have Molly again, which was just as well as I had to get the house ready for the Missis to come back at the w’kend, altho’ I w’d be lyin’ if I said I did not miss her chatter while I work’d. William ask’d me to clean his ridin’ boots again at dinner time and fidgeted while I did it. I know he is worried that I will say somethin’ to his mother about him and Maria. When I had finished, he said it would be best if his mother was not worried by anythin’ when she is still gettin’ over his father’s death. I nodded and went on with my work as if I did not get his meanin’, and thought less of him for using the Missis’s grief to excuse his shame. If Maria knew how little he cares for her against his good name, she w’d see through the charm he uses to her face, but there is no tellin’ her that when she is all caught up in the adventure of it. She is her own worst enemy, Maria, and there is nothin’ to be done except wait for her to come to her senses and mop up the tears when she is done.
Samuel gave me a little trinket box that he made himself to thank me for lookin’ after Molly. He sh’d not have bother’d but I am glad he did.
3 April
Took some bakin’ to Samuel after dinner. The cottage has gone down a bit since his wife died. He works too hard to have time for housework and is likely too proud to let his sister help him much other than lookin’ after Molly. I offer’d to do a bit of tidyin’ for him but he said it was too lovely a day to waste on scrubbin’ and anyway he w’d rather talk to me, so we sat by the pond while Molly chas’d the moorhens who are so tame they go nearly up to the cottage door. It is a lovely peaceful spot, out of the village, with only nature nearby and nothin’ to keep you from your thoughts. I can see why he loves it as he does.
Josephine had been sure that Hester would build her own home into the story somehow, and she looked forward to seeing what role Red Barn Cottage would play in the narrator’s life as the diary moved on. ‘Nothing to keep you from your thoughts.’ The phrase was a simple one, but it so perfectly described the trick that the house played on its inhabitants; even in her own short tenure, Josephine had come to regard it as a mixed blessing, and she wondered what the manuscript might go on to reveal about Hester’s relationship with the cottage as she transferred her personal experience to the character she had created.
She put a stone on the pages to stop them blowing away and got up to stretch her legs. While here, she had paid very little attention to the pond at the bottom of her garden, noticing it only when she crossed the wooden footbridge to head into the village. She walked over to it now and smiled when she saw the moorhen’s vermilion beak. Disturbed by her approach, the bird scuttled over the water, half-flying and half-running, leaving a troubled trail behind as its toes splashed the surface; its loud, metallic call echoed through the trees as it had from the pages, and Josephine realised that her pleasure in the manuscript was twofold: a fascination with the narrative itself, and a delight in the continuity between Maria Marten’s time and her own. She left the bird in peace and made some more coffee, then returned to the story, which – with the benefit of hindsight – began to take a darker turn.
Saw William and Maria goin’ across the field to the barn later on. Samuel said they were often there, and my face must have given me away because he said I sh’d not fret about it – one would surely tire of the other soon enough, and he is probably right. If anythin’ is certain, it is that people will always give one thing up if somethin’ better comes along. I watch’d the barn on and off, but they did not come out again all the while I was there. It was dusk when I left, and Samuel walk’d me back to the house, Molly asleep in his arms.
12 April
Went over to Mr Payne’s to pay the Missis’s bill and fetch some supplies for the week. Caught him gossipin’ with Mrs Stowe about Maria. They stopp’d when they saw me but not before I heard her tellin’ him about the moonlit walks to the barn she has seen from her cottage. C’d not resist tellin’ her she was wrong, which was stupid because it made her think more of it and I was angry with myself for makin’ things worse.
Things hadn’t changed much, Josephine thought dryly. She wondered if Elsie Gladding was by any chance a descendant of Mr Payne, or if the trait belonged to a profession rather than a family.
Tuesday 18 April
The Missis went to Stoke this afternoon, so slipp’d out to see Maria and found her in the garden, which she has made one of the finest in the village. She was pleas’d to see me and show off what she had been doin’. The potatoes were showin’ already, and the roses will be a picture. In all the years I have known Maria, I never l
ike her better than when she is here, doin’ somethin’ she loves and has a gift for. It is the only time she is content.
I told her what Mrs Stowe had bin sayin’ but she only shrugg’d and said Mrs Stowe was sour and jealous and she had never lik’d her anyway. I said she wasn’t the only one and it w’d not be long before Maria’s father found out what was goin’ on. She laugh’d then and told me they know already, that William is welcome at the cottage and how else did I ever think they were goin’ to get her and her bastard child out from under their feet? It upset me to hear her talk so because I know how much she loves Thomas Henry. She made me feel stupid for not thinkin’ about her situation, so I told her that if she thought a Corder w’d ever marry someone like her she was a fool. She said I knew nothin’ about it and anyway she w’d rather be a fool than a drudge and scorn’d me for havin’ no ambition ’cept to be a married skivvy rather than a maiden one. We said terrible things before I left, which I do not want to repeat here or think about. She made me so angry that I wanted to pick her up and shake her, and I do not see how things are to be mended between us.