A Mother's Shame
Page 30
‘Right y’are, sir.’ The man licked his lips greedily and began to drag the trunks towards the cab as Josh set off on his search again. After another half an hour he had to admit that she was nowhere to be seen and a cold hand closed around his heart. It was as if she and Faith had vanished off the face of the earth. And then he suddenly thought of what she had said aboard the ship: should your parents refuse to accept Faith, she will always have a home with me.
Could it be that she had been so afraid of them rejecting the child that she had decided to run away and keep Faith to herself?
His gut twisted in anguish. Portsmouth was such a big place, she could be anywhere by now if she had taken a cab, and trying to find her would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. The best thing he could do would be to get their luggage checked into a hotel and then resume his search. He could not keep the cabbie waiting there all night. And so he did just that, but the instant the trunks had been placed in his room he set off on his search again. By the time the clock in the market square chimed midnight he was disheartened and exhausted, and so after asking directions of a man who had just tumbled out of one of the numerous inns that were dotted about the harbour he made his way to the nearest police station.
‘I’ve come to report a young woman and a baby as missing,’ he told the moustached desk sergeant.
‘Oh dearie me. Had a row with the lady wife, have we, sir?’ the man asked with a grin.
‘No, I have not had a row,’ Josh told him angrily. ‘The young lady in question is single and we became separated on the quay after disembarking from the Sea Queen. We were travelling together but she has disappeared.’
‘With the baby?’ The desk sergeant raised his eyebrows and colour flared in Josh’s cheeks as he realised that the man imagined the child was his.
‘The baby was my sister’s child,’ he snapped. ‘Not that this should make any difference to the fact that the little mite is now missing along with her . . .’ he struggled here as he tried to decide what title to give Maria, and ended lamely, ‘with her maid.’
‘Hmm. So do you reckon she’s going to try a little blackmail then?’
‘Maria would never do that,’ Josh answered hotly.
‘Ah, so you are on close terms then. Maria, is it?’
Losing patience, Josh turned on his heel and strode back out into the night. The policeman was obviously not going to take him seriously, but then he supposed that in a large place like this, there must be a lot of people going missing. He would be better to continue the search himself, but not tonight. It was so dark now that he could barely see his hand in front of his face, so he wearily made his way back to the hotel for a much-needed rest, although he doubted that he would sleep.
*
Josh’s search continued for two more whole days and then he had the luggage sent on to the train station and bought a ticket to return home. Perhaps Maria had thought she had lost him and decided to make her way back by herself? He could only pray that this was the case. And if she had gone on ahead of him she would no doubt have returned to her parents’ cottage. The journey and the train changes seemed to take forever but at last the train pulled into Nuneaton Trent Valley station and he climbed down onto the platform. He had the trunks stored safely away in the left luggage department then climbed into a vacant cab and told the driver, ‘Coleshill Road, please – the cottages there.’
The cabbie urged the horses into a trot and Josh screwed himself into a corner, wrapping his arms tightly about himself as his breath floated on the air in front of him. There was a thick hoar frost on the ground, and after being used to the heat in Tasmania he was feeling the cold more keenly than usual. The carriage rattled through the town and on up Tuttle Hill, then it was going through Chapel End and soon the cottages were in sight.
‘Here will do,’ Josh instructed the man as he leaned out of the window, and the cabbie drew the horse to a halt. ‘Wait here for me, please.’ He jumped down as the horse pawed at the ground. The poor beast was tired now and ready to return to his stable for his well-earned oats and a good rub-down.
Josh paused for a moment with his hands thrust deep into his coat pockets as he tried to remember what Maria had told him about her home. Then, striding towards the cottage that seemed to fit her description, he rapped on the front door. The room beyond was in darkness, but within seconds he saw the soft glow of an oil lamp through the window and heard the sound of bolts being drawn. When the door was opened, he found himself looking at an older version of Maria.
‘Mrs Mundy?’
The woman nodded and Josh quickly introduced himself. ‘I am Joshua Montgomery, ma’am. Would it be convenient to have a word?’
Her face momentarily brightened as she realised who he was and she glanced over his shoulder. Then, seeing that he was apparently alone, her face fell. Holding the door wide, she told him, ‘Of course, sir. Do come in.’
Josh found himself standing in a spick and span tiny front parlour. It was sparsely furnished, but everything in it seemed to gleam in the light of the oil lamp. Quickly removing his hat now he told her, ‘I have come to enquire if Maria has returned home yet?’
At this her mouth gaped open and she said worriedly, ‘But I understood that Maria was to return home with you, sir . . . and the baby!’ As she spoke, she looked behind her, as if she was afraid of being overheard, and he perceived that she was as nervy as a kitten.
‘She did,’ he answered. ‘But when we docked in Portsmouth I left her alone for a few minutes while I went to find our luggage, and when I came back, she had gone. I assure you I have searched everywhere for her. I even went to the police station, then when I couldn’t find a trace of her, I assumed she must have come on ahead of me.’
‘Well, she didn’t. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of her,’ Mrs Mundy told him, wringing her hands. She seemed to be studying him as if there was something more she wanted to say, and deciding that he looked like a nice young man, she eventually whispered, ‘Lennie warned me that this might happen. That she might run away, I mean. He said she was mortally scared of bringing the child home now that she had refused to marry him because of what her father might say when she turned up with a flyblow. They were his exact words.’
‘Lennie has been here?’ Anger coursed through Joshua. It seemed that the man would stop at nothing to destroy Maria. He could only think that he must have jumped ship again once it had arrived back in England.
‘It gave me a rare fright when he turned up.’ She went on: ‘We heard that he had been stabbed but it appears that it was some other poor soul.’
Confused now, Josh scratched his head with one hand as he held his hat respectfully in the other. ‘But why would she be afraid of bringing the child back here? It isn’t as if it is her baby. Faith is Isabelle’s child. Sadly, my sister died giving birth to her.’
Martha’s hand slowly rose to her mouth as she tried to take in what this handsome young man was saying. ‘But if that is the case, where is Maria’s baby? She was . . . in a delicate condition when she set sail.’
‘I know all about that – and the fact that Lennie was the father,’ Josh said impatiently. ‘But I’m sorry to inform you that Maria miscarried her own baby during the voyage.’
‘Oh!’ Martha looked astounded and didn’t know quite what to believe. This man seemed sincere enough but then Lennie had been very convincing too when he had paid her a visit earlier in the day. Obviously one of them was lying . . . but which one?
Josh then hurried on to tell her about the unfortunate incident that had taken place aboard ship, which had led to Lennie’s flogging and the way he had then followed Maria to the homestead in Tasmania where he had again tried to rape her. And all the while Martha listened without saying a word. She wanted to believe him – but if what he was saying was true, then why would Maria have run away? All she would have had to do was deliver the baby to the Montgomerys and then come home to the cottage. But if on the other hand, the baby was hers, as Lenni
e had assured her it was, then perhaps she could not bear the shame of returning home to present her father with it. Not that he could have done much about it now, she thought wryly as she glanced towards the ceiling. Some months before, Edward Mundy had suffered a severe stroke and had been bedridden ever since. But of course she realised that Maria could not have known about this. She had refrained from mentioning it in the letters she had sent to the girl because she knew that she would have worried about how they were all faring – and after all, what could she have done when she was stuck on the other side of the world? Now, Martha thought that perhaps she should have told her, and then her daughter might not have been so afraid to return home.
It was too late to do anything about it now so she told Josh politely, ‘I’m sure that she will come back when she’s had time to think about things, and if she does I shall get word to you straight away.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Josh bowed, his face creased with concern, and then placing his hat back on, he strode away out to the waiting cab.
As soon as the door had closed behind him, Martha leaned against it heavily, her mind whirling. Where was Maria? Did she have enough money to ensure that she and the baby were fed? And who should she believe? It was then that a dull thud came on the ceiling and sighing, she forced herself to climb the stairs, yet again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, to see to her husband’s needs. He was no easier in sickness than he was in health.
*
When the cab pulled up in front of Willow Park, Josh quickly paid the cabbie, adding a generous tip, then as the carriage rattled away he stood for some seconds gazing at the only home he had ever known. His mind was still reeling at the visit Lennie had paid to Maria’s mother. He should have known when Robbie returned the man to the ship that he would be out to cause trouble, and Joshua wasn’t at all sure that Maria’s mother had believed him when he told her that the baby was Isabelle’s. However, there was nothing that he could do about that for now, so he decided that he would go in to see what reception he might receive from his parents.
He entered the hallway without knocking and just as usual, Jennings the butler appeared out of nowhere, and as if he had only been gone for an hour enquired, ‘Shall I take your coat, sir? Your parents have just retired to the drawing room. I’m afraid that dinner is over but I’m sure that Cook will get you a meal if you require one.’
‘No thanks, Jennings, I’m fine. Please get my luggage brought inside.’ Josh thrust his coat and hat at him. The way he was feeling at that moment, he wondered if he would ever eat again. And then he was striding down the long hallway, and when he reached the doors to the drawing room he took a deep breath to compose himself and straightened his shoulders.
He found his parents sitting at either side of the fire roaring in the ornate marble fireplace. Helena Montgomery was sipping at a small glass of sherry and his father had his customary glass of port and a cigar.
Helena instantly placed her glass onto a small side table and hurried towards him in a swish of silken skirts, her arms outstretched.
He could see at a glance that she had been crying as she hugged him and said, ‘Oh, I am so relieved you are back safely, darling. But where is Maria and . . . and the baby? We had a dreadful man come here this morning who told us some awful story that the baby was Maria’s but that she was going to try and pass her off as Isabelle’s child.’
Josh frowned. So Lennie had been here too dripping his poison, had he? He wasn’t completely surprised. It was clear that the scoundrel was out to cause as much mischief as he could.
‘Faith is Isabelle’s child,’ he declared, and it came out as more of a growl, causing Helena’s eyes to well with tears again.
‘B-but how can you be sure?’ she asked tremulously. ‘I happen to know that Maria was with child when you sailed and—’
‘Maria lost her child when we were halfway through the voyage,’ he informed her shortly, and all the time his father looked on through narrowed eyes although as yet he had not said a single word.
‘If you don’t believe me, surely you can take the word of Uncle Freddie,’ Josh said. ‘I know that he wrote to tell you that Isabelle had passed away following Faith’s birth.’
Helena was openly crying again now as the loss of her beloved girl hit her afresh. She doubted that she would ever get over it.
‘Yes, he did.’ Charles finally spoke and his voice was cold. ‘But how can he be sure it was Isabelle’s child? He wasn’t at the actual birth, was he?’
‘Well, no . . .’ Josh faltered. ‘But I was – well, I was in the cabin at any rate and I tell you, Maria had lost her baby some months before.’
Charles’s lips curled back from his teeth. ‘You would say that,’ he spat. ‘Reading between the lines that Frederick and Esperanza wrote to us, it seems that you and the little slut have grown quite close, so it would suit you both to farm another man’s flyblow off onto us, wouldn’t it?’
‘That is a disgraceful insinuation! And how dare you call Maria a slut!’ Josh’s temper had grown to match his father’s now. It seemed that Lennie had done a good job, and had he been there, Josh would have taken great pleasure in wringing his neck.
‘Please, you two, don’t argue,’ his mother implored. ‘But where are Maria and the baby?’
‘I have no idea,’ Josh admitted, and suddenly his shoulders sagged as the events of the last few days caught up with him. He told his parents how Maria and Faith had disappeared from the quay.
‘See?’ Charles said triumphantly. ‘It stands to reason that she couldn’t go through with trying to trick us. She must have got cold feet at the very last minute and run away to look after her baby by herself. Had the child really been Isabelle’s she would have had no compunction in delivering it to us and leaving us to face the shame of it.’
Josh’s hands clenched into fists of rage and he turned without another word and left the room. He was just too tired and worried to argue any more tonight. But tomorrow was another day, and he was determined to find Maria and Faith at any cost.
Chapter Thirty
The darkness started to recede and Maria attempted a groan but the sound stayed trapped inside her. She felt as if she was caught in a thick fog but then she became aware of voices and deliberately lay as still as she could.
‘She should be awake by now. ’Appen yer overdid it a bit wi’ that laudanum. How much did she ’ave?’
‘Only enough to keep ’er quiet durin’ the journey.’
Maria recognised the last voice as Lennie’s and her blood ran cold. Why was he there – and where was she? The voices continued in a faint mumble – they were obviously some way away from her now – and then she heard the sound of a door opening and shutting and a key in a lock. And then there was silence. She attempted to open her eyes, ignoring the dull ache in her head, and eventually she managed it. Then turning her head she tried to focus, and slowly the room swam into view. There were a number of metal beds, covered in thin grey blankets, all in a row, and a large window at one end of the room which was bare of curtains of any kind. The whole room appeared to be bare from what she could see of it, and she realised with sickening awareness that she was in one of the servants’ rooms at Hatter’s Hall.
Maria made a huge effort to rise, but managed to get her head no more than two or three inches off the pillow before she flopped back. Her arms and legs did not seem to be doing as she was telling them either and she took a deep breath as she tried to stem the panic that was threatening to overtake her. Perhaps if she just lay still for a while the dizziness would pass? But why was she here? And then it all came back to her. She had been waiting for Josh to get the luggage and Jacobs had approached her. She cursed herself for a fool for going with him and trusting him as she had. She should have waited for Josh. But where was Faith? What had they done with the baby? Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she thought of the child. She was so small and defenceless, and she had let
her down.
Soon a tingling started in her fingers and her toes, and after a time she found that she could flex them. Very slowly the movement returned to her limbs and painfully she dragged herself to the edge of the ticking mattress. It was then that she noticed that her beautiful travelling costume, her last present from Esperanza, was gone and she was dressed in the dull grey clothing of the servants. She had given all of Isabelle’s clothes to Kitty before leaving Tasmania, for she had found that she couldn’t bring herself to wear them. Someone must have undressed her whilst she was unconscious. The thought made colour flood into her cheeks but that was the least of her worries for now. Somehow she had to find Faith and get out of this dreadful place.
She made a second attempt to sit, but the blood pounded in her ears and the dizziness returned tenfold, so she closed her eyes again and clung to the edge of the bed until the nausea passed. At last she was able to stand, and wobbling dangerously on legs that felt like jelly, she made it to the window and grasped the sill. She found that she was in a room at the back of the Hall overlooking the laundry rooms. Through the windows she could see women flitting about like ants in the steamy atmosphere and her heart plummeted. It was common knowledge that many had come here as mere girls and never got out again. Many had died there, old before their time, worn out with work and the harsh treatment they had endured. What would she do if no one came to claim her? And what would happen to Faith? Would they too become victims of this dreadful place?
She was still leaning heavily on the sill when she heard the sound of the key grating in the lock again and, turning, she saw Mrs Bradshaw enter the room with a tray.
‘Ah, so you’re finally awake again then,’ the Matron said sternly. ‘I was beginning to think we were going to have to throw a bucket of water over you to rouse you.’