Sarah's Story

by Lynne Francis

  Against all the odds, the prospect of a new baby seemed to give Martha something to engage with and Sarah observed that her drinking had slowed and her neighbour showed every sign of making an effort to sort herself out before the baby was due.

  In a practical move, Sarah had started to put a weekly amount from the cashbox into a new account at the Post Office, one that she could access whenever she needed to with her passbook. She knew that Joe would be back before too long and it seemed safer to put temptation out of his way. There was a conversation to be had when he did show his face but, until then, she could only prepare as best she could.

  When Joe next appeared at Lane End Cottage in late March he was unexpected, as ever. He arrived whilst Sarah was sitting at the kitchen table on a sunny Saturday afternoon, talking to a patient about her new remedy. Sarah was flustered by his appearance and the presence of Mrs Sykes meant that she was, of course, unable to say any of the things that were on her mind.

  Alice, though, was delighted to see her father and, after he had made a cursory greeting, as though he had just returned from stepping out for the afternoon rather than an absence of five months, they both made a hasty exit, Alice intent on showing Joe some chickens that Martha had acquired. By the time they returned half an hour later, Mrs Sykes had left and Alice had spilled the beans to Joe about the new baby.

  ‘So, I hear I’m to be a father again,’ Joe said, almost the minute he had set foot through the door. ‘How long must I wait to see the new arrival?’ He laid his hands on Sarah’s belly as he spoke and she stiffened, causing him to draw back a little in surprise.

  There was no chance for Sarah to tell Joe what she thought about the theft of her money until Alice had gone to bed. She had to content herself with monosyllabic answers to his questions, directing glares his way to register her displeasure with him. Joe looked puzzled but wasn’t able to ask her outright what was wrong until Alice was safely tucked up in bed.

  ‘Sit thee down,’ Joe said, pulling out a chair as Sarah came back into the kitchen. ‘Now, tell me what ’tis that ails you. ’Tis a fine welcome for a husband working away nigh on six months, to come home to a sour face and short answers.’

  Sarah was made so cross by his injured tone that she could barely speak. She opened and closed her mouth more than once, without being able to utter a sound, before she finally managed to say, ‘Did you truly think that taking money from my cashbox, leaving your wife and daughter with barely a shilling to provide for themselves, could pass unnoticed?’

  ‘Ah.’ Joe looked down at the table and Sarah saw that at least he had the grace to colour up.

  ‘Well?’ she demanded, when he didn’t say anything further. ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’

  ‘’Twas for my sister, Kitty,’ Joe said. The words tumbled out in a rush. ‘She came to see me in prison and tell’t me how desperate she was, with the bairns to feed and her husband dead. I couldn’t bear to think on it an’ I promised that as soon as I was out I’d find some way to put bread on her table.’ He paused for breath and raised beseeching eyes to Sarah.

  ‘Your sister?’ Sarah said. She was reminded that he had mentioned her in one of his letters and she wanted to ask him how it was that his sister had been able to visit him in prison, when his own wife hadn’t, but Joe was speaking again.

  ‘Aye, well, I hadn’t seen her in a while. She got back in touch when I were in prison and she were in need.’ Joe’s eyes were back on the table again, then he looked up at Sarah as he appealed to her.

  ‘What could I do? I had no money when I got out. I had to ask you for some to buy me some work clothes, as you well know. When I saw all money in that box it were too much temptation. It were a way to make things right for her.’

  ‘And what about us?’ Sarah demanded. ‘Did you not think how we would go on, with nigh on all the money gone?’

  Joe was silent for a while. ‘Aye, well, there we are. That’s my trouble. I don’t think, do I? Can you forgive me?’ He looked hopefully at his wife. ‘A wife’s money is her husband’s, after all.’ Seeing he had overstepped the mark with his final words he added hastily, ‘But I’ll pay it back. Only I don’t rightly know how much it was. I’ve got money though, see. The boss paid me.’ He fished in his pockets and brought out a handful of coins, with the promise of more to come from his bag.

  Sarah wasn’t really mollified. She still felt that he had done wrong but his reminder that her money was also his made her glad that she had taken precautions to safeguard not only her legacy but the small savings she had been able to make from her regular income. Mindful that Joe was likely to be gone again before she knew it, she scooped up the coins and said she would take these as a contribution to the repayment for now. He could pay her the housekeeping money once he had unpacked.

  The rest of the evening passed with Sarah in a calmer frame of mind but, as she fell asleep that night, she vowed to ask Joe more about his sister and her children before he left again. If they lived nearby and they were in need then, of course, it was only right that Joe and Sarah should try to help.

  Chapter 58

  Sarah was thwarted in her intentions regarding Joe’s sister because the very next morning, as they settled down to breakfast, there was a knock at the door. Joe answered it and Sarah caught a glimpse of Alfred, his best man, outside. There was a muttered conversation, an exclamation from Joe and then he shut the door and turned back into the room looking grim.

  ‘I’ve been summoned back to canal. The boss has a delivery he needs run through to Manchester urgent-like. Seems I’m t’only one not already out with a boat so it has to be me.’

  ‘But you only got back yesterday!’ Sarah was at a loss. ‘Surely you can have more than one night’s break?’

  ‘Aye, well, ’twould appear not.’ Joe was already halfway up the stairs. ‘Alf’s waiting at end of road. I said I’d be there in ten minutes.’

  Sarah still hadn’t formulated an argument to prevent him going by the time he reappeared at the foot of the stairs, pack in hand.

  ‘I’ll try to swing it so I’m back in time for t’new one,’ Joe said, patting Sarah’s bump and kissing her full on the lips. He planted a kiss on Alice’s head. ‘You look after your mam, mind.’ Then the door opened and shut and he was gone, leaving Sarah feeling as though he hadn’t been there at all. It was only later, as she looked in the cashbox, that she remembered Joe hadn’t given her the promised housekeeping money after all.

  As Sarah’s confinement date approached, Martha began to cluck around her like a mother hen. Sarah felt very well, although her tiredness increased as her belly grew and the weather turned warmer. Most nights she went to sleep at the same time as Alice so she felt well able to shrug off Martha’s advice to get more rest.

  One morning she awoke extra early, ready to blame the twitter of birds for dragging her from her sleep. After she had been awake for a couple of minutes she realised – with the advent of a second one – that it was a strong contraction that had woken her.

  She struggled to sit up in bed and tried to decide what to do for the best. She should go downstairs to boil water in preparation, and to make herself some tea although she felt a little nauseous. She simply couldn’t summon the energy, though, to get out of bed. Next, she contemplated going to Alice’s room to wake her so that she could go and fetch Martha. This thought was overtaken by another strong contraction. Fearing the baby’s arrival was imminent, she called for Alice as loudly as she could, praying that her daughter wasn’t in a deep sleep. Just when she was ready to resign herself to managing things alone – a by no means welcome thought – Alice appeared in the doorway, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

  ‘Did you call, Ma?’

  ‘Can you go next door and knock for Martha? If she doesn’t come to the door, you can go inside and shout for her. I doubt the door is locked. Tell her I’d like her to come over.’ Sarah tried to keep the urgency out of her voice.

  Alice hesitated, looking doubtfully d
own at her nightgown.

  ‘There’s no need to get dressed. Just wrap my shawl around you. Off you go.’ Sarah did her best to disguise a gasp and a groan as another contraction took hold, but a glimpse of Alice’s white face as she ran from the room told her she had failed. Sarah tried to remember to breathe as Martha had taught her all those years before during Alice’s birth, screwing up her face in concentration, and so it was that her neighbour found her five minutes later.

  Martha had been roused from a deep sleep but she assessed the situation at a glance and took charge at once. She put water to boil on the kitchen range, asking Alice to watch over the pots and to call her when the bubbles rose from the bottom, but on no account to touch anything. Then she set about making Sarah comfortable, preparing the room and the bed as best she could.

  ‘The midwife?’ Sarah asked weakly after a particularly strong contraction.

  ‘I don’t think there’s time,’ Martha replied briskly. ‘I think you’ll be welcoming a new arrival into the world before I’ve managed to tell Alice how to go about finding her.’

  Within the half-hour, Martha was proved right. The latest addition to the Bancroft family arrived an hour before Sarah would normally have been awake. Mother and daughter were soon washed and tucked up in bed, with Alice settled in beside them, quite fascinated by her sister’s tiny fingers and snub nose.

  ‘So, another daughter,’ Martha said, hands on her hips as she eased the strain from her back. ‘Have you and Joe a name in mind?’

  ‘I have,’ Sarah said. ‘She’s to be Ella, after my sister Ellen.’

  She gazed down at the wisp of reddish-blonde hair peeping out from Ella’s swaddling blanket, feeling quite overcome, before she succumbed to the exhaustion of an early awakening and a rapid birth and fell into a deep sleep.

  Over the next few days, as she became accustomed to having a new baby to care for once more, her thoughts turned to Joe and his reaction. When would he return? Would having two children make him more inclined to seek work that didn’t take him away for such long periods? As the days turned into weeks, she discovered that her fears as to how she would manage on her own were unfounded. Alice was like a second mother to Ella and didn’t want to be parted from her. Martha was insistent that Sarah took a daytime nap so that she could spend some time with the new baby, and many of the patients, particularly those with children or grandchildren of their own, were only too eager to hold her when they visited.

  At eight weeks old, Ella was proving to be an easy-going and good-natured baby. The family had already settled into a new routine and so when Joe put in an appearance at last, Sarah was a little disconcerted. He arrived without warning one evening when both children were asleep. Sarah herself was about to head upstairs to bed but she knew she must make an effort to show willing and to offer to make Joe some supper.

  ‘Aye, bread and cheese and a glass of ale will do me,’ Joe said, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table and stretching out his legs. Sarah had to step over them as she busied herself fetching the loaf, a knife, butter, cheese and pickles.

  ‘We have no ale,’ she said, setting the food down in front of him. ‘If I’d known you were coming …’ She trailed off, hoping it didn’t sound too much like an accusation. Joe didn’t seem to want a quarrel and accepted tea without demur.

  ‘So, don’t keep me guessing,’ he said, once he’d wolfed down several slices of bread and cheese. ‘Have I a son or a daughter?’

  ‘Another daughter,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Let’s be seeing her, then,’ Joe said. He looked up at her expectantly.

  ‘She’s asleep,’ Sarah protested. ‘I don’t want to fetch her down. Can it not wait until the morning?’

  Joe frowned. ‘I’ve been away working to put food on the table for this family and now you say I can’t see my new bairn of how many weeks?’

  ‘Eight weeks.’ Sarah was tight-lipped.

  ‘Aye, eight weeks. Come on now, a peep at the little lass can’t hurt.’

  Sarah could see Joe was not to be deterred so, rather than bringing Ella downstairs and risk disturbing her, she persuaded Joe to go up and see their new daughter in their bedroom, where she slept under the window in the crib that had once belonged to Alice.

  Sarah held her breath as Joe gazed down at Ella, who moved restlessly in her sleep as if she sensed a presence but couldn’t quite bring herself to wake up and acknowledge it.

  ‘Does she look as Alice did? I can’t rightly tell in t’dark.’ Even Joe’s whisper had a rumble to it that Sarah feared might wake Ella so she put her finger to her lips and shooed him back down the stairs.

  ‘She looks a lot like Alice did, but with lighter hair,’ Sarah said. ‘You’ll see her properly in the morning.’

  Sarah told him a little more about the day of Ella’s birth and remembered to share their new daughter’s name with him, but before long Joe was yawning and declared his intention of going to sleep. Sarah was thankful that he hadn’t wanted to look in on Alice, who would surely have woken, but in any case they had been abed but five minutes before Ella was awake and demanding a feed.

  It seemed that no sooner was she settled – Joe, of course, fast asleep and snoring throughout – and Sarah back to sleep than Alice bounced into the room. Her delighted cries on discovering her father was home woke Ella earlier than normal, and so their first day as a family of four was a little ragged around the edges. Ella grizzled, which was most unlike her, and regarded Joe with deep mistrust, wailing whenever he took her from her mother.

  ‘I thought thou tell’t me she was an easy child,’ Joe chuckled, holding the irate bundle at arm’s length. ‘Ten to one the fairies swapped her in t’night.’

  Thankfully, the next day was easier, and the next. Sarah was settling into the enjoyment of having Joe around when, all too soon, he announced that he must go back to his boat. This time, he handed over some money without being asked and Sarah, who had intended bringing pressure to bear on him to find local work, found she could do no more than make a tentative suggestion.

  ‘Alice would love it if you were here more frequently. Ella, too, when she’s old enough,’ Sarah said on his last evening. ‘Will you at least think about what else you might do to earn money?’

  ‘Aye I’ll think on it but I’m not sure ’twill make any odds.’ Joe was quite cheerful. ‘Working on boats is t’only life I know. I ain’t fit to do owt else.’

  PART EIGHT

  August 1882 – May 1890

  Chapter 59

  And so life in the Bancroft household carried on over the years with a routine of sorts whereby Joe continued to appear at irregular intervals. He was glorious company when he was there, making a fuss of the girls and occasionally producing surprise gifts for them or for Sarah, some of them more successful than others. Sarah was less than impressed by the frog that he brought for Alice on one occasion, captured in his handkerchief along the road. He proudly presented it to her, only for it to escape and leap around the kitchen – to Sarah’s consternation and Joe’s delight. The Zoetrope was more successful – a revolving metal wheel with regularly spaced slits in the side, it was designed to view strips of paper placed within, printed with various images that appeared to move continuously when the wheel was spun. The dancing man and galloping horse kept Alice amused for days, although Sarah was uneasy as to where Joe might have come by such a thing. His claim to have bought it in Manchester might have been true, but for the lack of the accompanying box.

  Generally, Sarah felt, Joe was like a boisterous uncle who swept into their lives, amused them all, then left again, leaving them to settle back into the familiarity of their everyday routine. She always had mixed feelings about his visits, which initially involved anger that he could drift in and out of their lives as he pleased, followed by resignation and then relaxation into enjoying his company, not least for the sake of the girls.

  As a rule, she was glad to see him go again after the upheaval of his visit; she was out of the h
abit of having male company about the place. When she confided this to Martha, fearful of what she would think of her, she was relieved by her reaction.

  ‘Lord bless you! It’s no wonder you feel as you do. The man’s gone for weeks at a time then there he is, under your feet all day. In the normal way of things, he’d be away at work during the day, good for nothing but his supper and bed after a hard day and with plans of his own on a Sunday. Don’t go fretting yourself. ’Twould be enough to drive most women to distraction.’

  Martha’s speech left her quite pink in the cheeks with indignation, but it made Sarah feel better. There was little love lost between Joe and Martha, who seemed to have inherited Ada’s antipathy towards Sarah’s husband. Sarah had asked her once why she felt as she did, but Martha’s emphatic shake of the head had put her off pressing her for an answer, fearful all at once of what might be revealed.

  A lasting consequence of Joe’s irregular visits over the years, though, was the addition of two more children to the family. Thomas was born barely two years after Ella and much doted on by his two big sisters. When his birth was followed two years later by that of Annie, Sarah declared to Joe that their family was quite big enough now. Managing four children with their father away much of the time, and with a herbal practice to run, was more than enough for her. She could have added that this absent father also frequently neglected to pay his share of the expenses for a growing household.

  Sarah was just about managing to keep their heads above water on the money she earned but she was only too well aware that, should there be any alteration in their circumstances, the balance could be tipped irredeemably. The thought of her nest-egg tucked away in the Post Office made her hold back from further scolding: she knew it didn’t work on Joe who would simply take himself off. Instead, on his first visit after Annie’s birth, Sarah refused to share the marital bed and simply removed herself to sleep in the younger children’s room at night, citing the need to nurse Annie and to get a good night’s rest.