‘So, are you ready to talk to me yet?’ she asked softly.
‘What about?’
‘Oh, come on, Mel. About why you ran away for a start! Do you have any idea at all how worried your father and I were? Something must have made you do it. Can’t you tell me about it? I want to help you.’
‘Nobody can help me,’ Mel whispered bleakly as her eyes welled with tears.
Jess felt as if someone had slapped her in the face. Whatever the problem was, it was clearly much more serious than she had thought. She would have probed further but just then the waiter reappeared with their drinks and began to lay out their cutlery. They barely touched their meal. Jess was glad when it was over and hastily paid the bill and ushered Mel outside.
‘Is there anything else you need?’ she asked, wondering why she had thought that this was such a good idea in the first place. It had hardly turned out to be a roaring success.
Mel shook her head and they headed back to the car in silence. Jess sensed that Mel wasn’t ready to confide in her yet, so wisely held her tongue all the way home. The instant they arrived back, Mel flung the bags containing her new clothes onto a chair and shot off to her room, leaving Jess to stare helplessly after her. There was still well over an hour until it was time to fetch Jo from school and she didn’t feel like starting any household chores, so she too went upstairs, hoping that reading a little more of Martha’s journal would help take her mind off her own troubles.
10 September
Something terrible happened today. I had been working in the dairy as Phoebe is ill. She lost her baby last week and Granny says it is through worrying what will become of them if the Master gets rid of them. They will have nowhere to go and Hal fears that he will not be able to get work . . .
‘That’s all the vegetables chopped, Granny.’ Martha stood and rubbed her back as Granny Reid looked up from the pastry she was rolling. ‘What would you like me to do now? Shall I pop along to the cottage and see how Phoebe is?’
‘No, not yet, lass. Go into the dairy an’ see to what needs doin’ there then you can take one o’ these hare pies over to Phoebe later on. Bless ’er. She won’t be in no fit state fer cookin, havin’ just lost the baby.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘Truth be told, the Tolleys could ill afford another mouth to feed but it’s a terrible thing to lose a child all the same. I blame that one in there.’ She cocked her head towards the green baize door.
Martha chewed on her lip as she nodded in agreement.
‘I’ve no doubt him indoors will moan about hare pie fer his dinner an’ all,’ Granny went on. ‘But he’s lucky to have that, if he did but know it. Our supplies are dwindlin’ by the day.’ Looking out onto the yard, she advised Martha: ‘You just mind as yer don’t go yer length out there. The whole place is like a mudslide what wi’ all the rain we’ve had, an’ it don’t show no sign o’ ceasin’ yet neither.’
Martha nodded as she lifted her shawl from a hook on the back of the door, then lifting it over her head she set off through the driving rain. It was as she was passing the barn with her head bent that a piercing scream brought her to a shuddering halt. She looked towards the great wooden doors just as another scream sounded, and sped across the cobbles, avoiding the puddles as best she could.
Once in the barn she paused for a second as her eyes adjusted to the dim light and then the sight that met her eyes made her hand spring to her mouth. The Master had young Joey Tolley bent across a hay bale with his shirt lifted and his trousers round his ankles, and he was whipping him cruelly, the sound of the leather whip slicing through the air. Without stopping to think, Martha ran forward and caught the Master’s arm just in time to stop the next blow landing on the small boy’s bare buttocks.
‘Eeh, Master, whatever are yer doin’?’ she sobbed breathlessly. ‘You’ll kill the poor lad. For God’s sake stop now!’
‘Get off, you interfering little bitch,’ the master ground out, throwing her off his arm. Martha fell heavily and then before she knew what was happening he had turned the whip on her and it was she that was screaming now as Joey slid into a heap on the ground.
Seconds later, the barn door flew open yet again, and seeing what was happening Bertie launched himself at the Master as Martha lay in a whimpering heap. Bertie snatched the whip from the Master’s hand and flung it into a far corner and then the two men were grappling with each other as obscenities spewed from Bertie’s mouth.
‘You cruel, perverted bastard,’ he spat. It was then that Granny and Grace appeared, and taking in the situation at a glance, they sprang forward and somehow managed to drag the two men apart. It took both Granny and Grace all their time to hold Bertie back and as the Master rose to his feet, wiping a smear of blood from his lip, he sneered.
‘I won’t be the only bastard about here soon, will I?’ he taunted. ‘Not when Grace drops that load she’s carryin’. My bastard will be poddlin’ about here then too, won’t it?’
Bertie was like a man possessed and it was all Grace and Granny could do to hold him now as the Master laughed in his face. He then brushed himself down and strode away without another word.
‘I’ll kill that swine if it’s the last thing I do,’ Bertie vowed to Grace as she took him in her arms. ‘And let’s hope as yer lose that bastard growin’ inside you an’ all!’
With tears pouring down her ashen cheeks, Grace looked soundlessly back at him.
‘Never mind yer threats fer now,’ Granny barked as Martha looked on in confusion. ‘Little Joey looks to be in a bad way.’
The child was unconscious. The Master had whipped the skin from his back and his shirt was in tatters.
‘Grace, stop yer blubbin’ an’ get out to the pump,’ Granny told her. ‘Fetch me a bucket o’ water. We’ll need to clean the poor lad up a bit afore we send him back to Phoebe. An’ God alone knows what Hal will do when he sees what that cruel bugger has done to his lad.’
Minutes later, Granny gently sponged the worst of the lad’s injuries as blood ran freely down his back. She was still in the process of doing this when he started to rouse round and Granny asked him gently, ‘What did yer do to upset the Master so?’
‘I . . . I stole an apple from them stacked in the barrels at the back o’ the barn,’ Joey whimpered. ‘I’m sorry, Granny Reid, but I were hungry.’
Granny’s breath came out on a hiss. ‘An’ he did this all fer an apple?’ she said disbelievingly. ‘I’m beginnin’ to think that life on the road might not be so bad, after all. It would be better than havin’ to pander to that wicked sod!’ she sat back on her heels as she wrung the bloody cloth out in the bucket then, gently drawing the shirt down over the open wounds, she wrapped him in her woollen shawl and told Bertie, ‘You’d best carry him back to the cottage, lad. Tell Phoebe she’ll need to keep the wounds clean in case of infection an’ say I’ll be over as soon as I can.’
With that she patted Joey on the head and struggling painfully to her knees she set off back to the kitchen as Bertie lifted Joey as if he weighed no more than a feather and strode out into the rain.
Meanwhile, Martha rose and brushed the hay from her brown serge skirt as she looked towards Grace who was leaning heavily against the wall.
‘What did Bertie mean when he said he hoped you’d lose the baby, Grace?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘Isn’t he looking forward to it being born?’
Grace suddenly let out a sob and with her hand across her mouth she skittered away, her drab work skirts billowing around her, leaving Martha to shake her head in bewilderment.
Slowly now she made her way to the dairy, and while she churned, she tried to take her mind off what had happened. Once the butter was made, she placed it on the cool shelf and hurried back to the kitchen.
Striding inside, she threw off her wet shawl and demanded, ‘What’s going on, Granny? I’m not a child any more and I want to know. What did the Master mean when he said that there would be another bastard about the place when Grace has her baby?’
‘The penny’s dropped, ’as it?’ Granny asked wearily. ‘Now don’t you get layin’ no blame at your sister’s door. The poor lamb had no choice in the matter. The Master believes that it’s his right to take the virginity of any servant girl in his employ afore she weds, and poor Grace went to him like a Christian to the lions.’
Martha felt vomit rise in her throat. Would the Master consider that he could have first right with her too if he discovered that she was walking out with Jimmy? It didn’t bear thinking about, and Martha was suddenly glad that she had kept their relationship a secret. On many occasions she had been aware of the Master coupling with women who had come from the town, but she had never dreamed that he could have done such a thing to her own sister. Poor Grace . . . and poor Bertie too. No wonder he hated the Master so much. What man wouldn’t in that situation?
‘Between you an’ me, on his afternoon off Bertie’s been scourin’ the town an’ the neighbourin’ farms fer work wi’ livin’ accommodation included, but up to now he’s had no luck,’ Granny confided.
Suddenly, Martha understood why Bertie had seemed so sad on the day of their wedding and why he had been so snappy lately. She could only imagine how awful it must be for him to know that another man’s child was growing inside the woman he loved. It was then that another terrible thought occurred to her. It was no secret that the Master had never forgiven the Mistress for not giving him a son and heir. Would he want to claim the child for his own when it was born, if it was a boy?
She was just about to ask Granny what she thought when the kitchen door was suddenly swung so wide that it struck the wall and danced on its hinges.
Hal Tolley stood there, rain dripping off his hair and his face contorted with rage.
‘Where is he?’ he ground out, his fists clenching and unclenching as Bertie followed him in. ‘I’m goin’ to kill him fer what he’s done to my lad, so ’elp me God. An’ all fer a stinkin’ apple!’
‘Calm down, Hal. I know exactly how yer feel, man, but think what yer doin’. You an’ yer family’ll be out on yer arses an’ on the road if yer raise yer hand to ’im.’
‘The lad’s developin’ a fever.’ Hal’s shoulders sagged. ‘What’ll it do to Phoebe if we lose Joey so soon after losin’ the baby? The poor little sod’ll be scarred fer life even if he does survive.’
‘Just bide yer time,’ Bertie urged. ‘We’ll have our day wi’ that lousy swine, you just see if we don’t. But fer now we ’ave to be patient.’
He took Hal’s elbow and led him away as Martha chewed on her knuckles. Whatever was going to become of them all? The only place where she could be really safe was in her little room in the attic. There was a stout lock on the door and from now on she intended to use it. But would the lock be strong enough to keep the Master out if he decided that it was her turn to be taken down? Martha could only pray now that Bertie would find them somewhere else to go – and as soon as possible.
Jess shuddered as she closed the book. Poor Martha must have been terrified of her unscrupulous Master. And poor Grace, to be used like that and to be forced to carry his child . . .
Her sombre thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone crying. Thinking that it must be Mel, she hurried towards the girl’s bedroom door, but the only sound she could hear from within was the Black-Eyed Peas. Glancing towards the door at the end of the corridor, she slowly went and opened it, then began to climb the stairs with her heart in her mouth. Once outside Martha’s room she stood completely still as the sound of someone sobbing broken-heartedly floated around her. Every hair on her body was standing to attention, but she gripped the door handle and threw the door open before she could change her mind and run back the way she had come, which every instinct she had was telling her to do.
The noise stopped abruptly and she found herself staring into an empty room. And yet someone had been crying in there. She would have staked her life on it.
Cautiously she stepped inside, her eyes focused on the narrow wooden bed. It was bitterly cold in here, and she wondered how Martha had stood it. But then she knew that back in the early 1800s there had been no central heating, so she would probably have been used to it.
‘Oh Martha, I’m so sorry for what you had to go through,’ she whispered to the empty room and then moving through the scent of roses, she gently closed the door and went back downstairs.
Chapter Thirteen
Later that day, it suddenly hit Jess how little Simon had said to Mel about running away when the police had returned her home the evening before. Whilst they had been waiting for news he had been full of what he was planning to do to her when she got back. And yet when she did, he had actually said nothing at all. It was almost Mel’s birthday. Perhaps she could organise something special for that? Something that would bring her daughter out of the depression into which she seemed to have sunk.
‘What do you think? Any suggestions?’ she asked Jo who was sitting at the kitchen table doing her homework.
‘How about a weekend away somewhere?’ the younger girl said.
Jess grinned. ‘Do you know, that might be a good idea. Anywhere in particular?’
Jo tapped her top lip thoughtfully with her forefinger. Then: ‘How about Paris?’
‘Paris!’ Jess was so shocked that she almost choked. Their holiday venues up to now had stretched to Yarmouth, Skegness and Blackpool, and even then the trips had been few and far between because the summer was the busiest time for Simon.
Seeing her mother’s reaction, Jo chuckled. ‘I’m not suggesting going to the moon, Mum.’
‘I know – but Paris! Why, I’ve never even been on a plane.’
‘Then it’s time you did,’ Jo said matter-of-factly. ‘I reckon it would cheer Mel up no end and I’d love to see the Eiffel Tower. Kirsty at school went with her mum and dad a few weeks ago and she said it was wicked.’
‘Right . . . well, I’ll have a think about it,’ Jess said doubtfully, ‘but don’t go mentioning it to your sister just yet until I’ve had time to run the idea by your dad, eh?’
‘All right.’ Jo settled back in her seat to read the magazine she had just taken from her schoolbag as Jess mulled the idea of the impromptu break over in her mind.
Simon was late home again that evening. Jess was getting used to it by now and although she knew that he was busy, she still found it annoying. When they had first moved in he had made a conscious effort to arrive home at a reasonable hour, so they could all have some quality family time together, but all his good intentions seemed to be flying out of the window again now.
Determined not to start an argument she put his meal in the microwave and said casually, ‘Jo thought it might be a good idea if we had a weekend away for Mel’s birthday.’
He snorted with derision as he pulled his workboots off. ‘Huh! Fat chance of that happening with the amount of work I’ve got on. And anyway, should we really reward bad behaviour? She did run away, in case you’d forgotten.’
‘Firstly, if she ran away there has to be a reason. I don’t consider it was bad behaviour. Something is troubling her and if we’re away from home she might be more willing to talk about it. Secondly, I am quite aware of how busy you are so if you don’t want to come I shall take the girls myself. I think a change of scene would do them good. We’ve been so busy on the house I worry that we haven’t spent enough time with them lately.’
Simon rolled his eyes. ‘You take them away?’
‘Yes, me.’ Jess’s chin tilted indignantly. ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after our daughters for a few days.’
‘Of course you are, and you h
ave your own house too, don’t you.’
Ignoring the spite in his voice she rushed on, ‘There’s no need to be like that, Simon. I’m just trying to make some sense of what’s happening here. Mel isn’t even fourteen yet but she looks like she’s got the weight of the world on her shoulders.’
‘And just where were you thinking of taking them? Blackpool, Skegness?’
‘Er . . . actually Jo suggested Paris.’
Simon sputtered a mouthful of tea all over the table. ‘Paris, did you say? But you don’t even have passports!’
‘So, I can get them,’ she retorted haughtily. ‘I’m not completely useless, you know. We could fly from Birmingham and be there in a couple of hours or so.’
He shook his head, clearly unhappy about the whole idea. ‘I think you should wait until we can all go away as a family. I don’t believe in couples having separate holidays.’
‘Then I’m sorry to hear it, but I think I should tell you I intend to take the girls whether you like it or not. Of course, it would be wonderful if you could somehow manage to come with us, but we’re going, come hell or high water, so you’d better get used to the idea. I intend to get the passport applications from the post office first thing in the morning and fill them in. Shall I pick one up for you?’
Simon pushed away the meal she had just put in front of him. Jess was certainly spreading her wings now and he didn’t like it one bit. She had always been so biddable before. ‘No, you needn’t bother,’ he ground out, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘Some of us have to work, in case you’d forgotten.’ And with that he slammed out of the kitchen.
Biting down the urge to cry, Jess lifted his meal and scraped it into the bin. She’d had an idea that Simon wouldn’t be too happy about their plan but she hadn’t expected him to react quite so violently. Anyone would think she’d told him that she was going to leave him for good, the way he was going on.
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