A Mother's Shame

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A Mother's Shame Page 31

by Rosie Goodwin


  ‘What am I doing here?’ Maria asked. ‘And where is the baby?’

  ‘You’re here because there are those who want you to disappear,’ the woman answered, jangling her big iron ring of keys. ‘And as for the baby – she’s up in the nursery with the other unfortunate little brats. If she’s lucky we’ll find a home for her. If not, she’ll stay where she is till she’s old enough to work here.’

  Maria was appalled and it showed on her face as she looked around wildly for a way of escape.

  ‘Don’t get thinking of trying to run away again,’ Mrs Bradshaw warned. ‘There is no way out of this place, as many before you have discovered. You may as well make your mind up to the fact that you’re here for good. But now I’ve brought you some food and you would do well to eat it. You’ll need to get your strength up, because you’ll be working tomorrow. You are not pandering to gentry this time around so you’ll be treated no different from the rest of the servants.’ At this she turned and left, locking the door behind her.

  As Maria finally accepted what a terrible plight she was in, despair washed through her. Crossing back to the bed, she sank onto the edge of it and began to cry helplessly.

  Charles and Helena were already at breakfast when Josh joined them the next morning feeling considerably refreshed after some sleep.

  His mother gave him a watery smile and Josh noticed that she had barely eaten anything. In truth, his appetite had fled too but nevertheless he forced himself to fill his plate from the silver dishes on the sideboard. He needed the energy to continue his search for Maria and his niece.

  ‘I have purchased a factory in Atherstone,’ his father informed him, as if this was just an ordinary day. ‘And I thought you might like to ride in with me and take a look at it this morning.’

  ‘I’m afraid I have other plans,’ Josh answered quietly as he folded a napkin across his lap.

  ‘I hope you’re not planning on going off on a wild-goose chase looking for that . . . that Mundy girl!’ Charles said scathingly. ‘She will no doubt be happily ensconced in some whorehouse in Portsmouth by now, selling her body to any sailor who will pay for it.’

  Josh angrily pushed his plate away and stood up, ready to defend Maria’s honour. Seeing that a row was about to erupt, Helena cried, ‘Oh, please don’t argue. It cannot make the situation any better.’ And then turning her attention to her husband, she told him, ‘I’m sure that isn’t true, Charles. Maria did not seem to be that sort of girl at all. She comes from a very respectable family. Her father is the chapel preacher, for heaven’s sake!’

  Josh managed to remain silent as he marched out of the room, but his heart was thudding so loudly he feared that they might hear it. What if Maria was ensconced in some whorehouse! Not by choice – never by choice – but many girls had ended up in such places after being abducted against their will, and Maria was a pretty girl. Should some pimp have happened upon her while she stood waiting for him on the quay, she would have been a sitting target. And Faith – well, there were any number of moneyed folk who would buy a baby, especially one as comely as she. His heart broke at the thought and he cursed himself for ever letting them out of his sight for a second. But what was done was done, and now he was determined to find them both, even if it took to the end of his days. There was no point standing there quarrelling with his father; Lennie had obviously done a good job when he had dripped his lies into Charles Montgomery’s ear.

  He had gone no more than a few steps along the hallway when the dining-room door banged open and his mother came rushing after him, calling, ‘Josh? Spare me a few minutes, I beg you. We can talk in here.’ Taking his elbow she pushed him into the drawing room and after closing the door behind her she asked him straight out: ‘Tell me truthfully, my dear boy: is the child Isabelle’s or Maria’s?’

  He looked straight into her eye as he replied without hesitation, ‘The baby is Isabelle’s, Mother, and it was her last wish that Maria and I should bring her home for you to care for her.’

  ‘Oh.’ Helena chewed on her knuckle. She knew her son inside out and was convinced that he was telling the truth. Her grandchild, who was all she had left of Isabelle now, was out there somewhere, possibly in danger, and suddenly her need to find Faith was as compelling as Josh’s.

  ‘I believe you, son,’ she told him. ‘But why would that young man have come here yesterday with such a cock and bull story?’

  ‘Because Maria rejected him.’ A muscle in Josh’s cheek twitched as his hands clenched into fists and he quickly told his mother everything.

  When he was done, Helena nodded. It all made sense now. ‘Then somehow we must find both the baby and Maria,’ she said. Then, after a slight hesitation, ‘Is it true that you have feelings for her?’

  He sighed. ‘Yes, it’s true. I’m sorry, Mother. I know that you and Father had high hopes of me and Felicity coming together one—’

  She held up her hand then and stopped him from going any further, saying, ‘This is another thing that I needed to speak to you about. You see, whilst you’ve been away, there have been certain . . . developments.’

  When he raised an eyebrow in enquiry she explained, ‘I’m afraid Mrs Pettifer passed away shortly after you departed for Australia. It was not entirely unexpected, for as you know she had been an invalid for a great many years. Anyway, a couple of months after her death, Felicity met a young man from Nottingham when she had a day trip there. And to cut a long story short . . . she has married him after a rather whirlwind romance.’

  ‘Really?’ Josh whistled through his teeth. ‘That couldn’t have gone down very well with her old man.’

  ‘Actually, he was very good about it,’ she confided. ‘As you know, Felicity was always rather spoiled by her mother, and between you and me I think her father was just grateful to see her settled. He’s bought them a small house up there by all accounts, and apparently Felicity is as happy as the day is long.’

  ‘Then I am pleased for her,’ Josh said sincerely. ‘But I still can’t see my father accepting Maria because she comes from a lower class than us.’

  ‘Your father is a frightful snob; he’s stuck in the past and needs to start changing with the times,’ his mother answered, shocking her son to the roots. ‘He was hardly born into the aristocracy himself!’ And then she shocked him still further when she said, ‘We shall find the baby and when we do, I shall bring her home and she will be brought up in her rightful place – with her family – whether your father likes it or not!’

  He stared at her with his mouth hanging slackly open. Was this the same woman who had always meekly obeyed her husband? Until she had helped Isabelle to escape from Hatter’s Hall he had never known his mother to say a wrong word to Charles, but now it seemed that the worm was finally turning.

  ‘Father will never accept Faith,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Then we shall have to part, shan’t we,’ Helena said quietly, ‘because by hook or by crook, I shall keep my daughter’s child with me even if it means I have to leave this place. But now, no more talking. Where do you think we should start to look?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Josh admitted despondently.

  ‘Then in that case may I suggest that you visit Maria’s mother again. There is just a chance that Maria may have returned, and if she has, she would have gone there. If this is not the case, we should then track down the despicable Lennie Glover. I have a horrible feeling that he may know more about their disappearance than he is letting on.’

  ‘But what about Father?’

  ‘You leave your father to me,’ she told him abruptly. ‘It is high time he heard a few home truths and I have a distinct feeling that he isn’t going to like it.’

  ‘Very well.’ Josh kissed his mother’s cheek before hurrying away to get his coat. The sooner he could resume the search the better.

  Edward plucked at the eiderdown with his good hand as Martha plumped up his pillows. He knew that there was something amiss, since he had overheard her talk
ing to someone in the front parlour the night before. However, the stroke had robbed him of his speech and he was unable to ask her who it had been.

  ‘There,’ she said as she straightened up and looked down on him. ‘You are all comfortable again for a while now.’ The words were said kindly, but what she was thinking was, How are the mighty fallen.

  Edward was a mere shadow of the man he had once been. One side of his face was drawn down, giving him a deformed appearance, and his tongue hung slackly from his mouth as it drooled onto his nightshirt. He was completely paralysed all down his left side and the right side had only limited movement, which meant she now had to see to all his bodily needs. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he had shown one ounce of gratitude, but that would have been expecting too much of Edward. Even now in his weakened condition his dark eyes still glowed with malice, and more than once he had tried to hit her, or thrown his dish aside as she was trying to feed him. But Martha knew that she could have stood all this if he had just once in the time they had been together shown her a little kindness or consideration. He had treated her as little more than a skivvy since the day they had stood before the altar, and she had accepted her lot because she had felt that she deserved no better. She had been carrying another man’s child, after all, and so she had felt a measure of gratitude that Edward had consented to make an honest woman of her and give her unborn child a name.

  That child had been Maria, and she had adored her from the day she drew breath whilst still trying to be a good obedient wife to Edward. But then she had discovered that Edward had been paid to take her, and from that day on she had felt belittled. He had despised Maria from the second he set eyes on her, and had made it more than apparent. And now her beloved girl was missing and Martha was almost beside herself with worry. Knowing her daughter as she did, she knew that Maria would never have willingly run away, and a sense of foreboding had settled around her like a cloud ever since Lennie Glover had come to her with his wild tales. She had been thrown into further confusion following Josh’s visit, and now she felt helpless, so she was in no mood for one of Edward’s tantrums.

  He was waving his one weak hand at her and his mouth was working but nothing came from it but indistinguishable grunts. Normally she would have tried to understand what he wanted, but today she had no patience with him, so lifting the bowl she had just washed him in and scooping up the pile of dirty linen she had just changed from beneath him she told him, ‘Get some rest now. I have things to do.’

  As she made for the door the grunts became louder but she ignored them, and once out on the landing she closed the door firmly between them. It was only then that she paused to blink and stop the tears from falling. It was rarely that she allowed herself to think of Maria’s father, but now she could not stop herself as memories flooded back unbidden. He had been such a kind and gentle man, and had been devastated when he discovered that she was with child, for he was in no position to marry her. But oh, how different her life could have been, had he been free! He had been the love of her life, and even now after all these years she still thought of him fondly.

  Now she forced herself to move on, taking the steep rickety stairs carefully. Edward was already rapping on the floor for attention with the walking stick she always left within his reach, but she moved on and blocked her ears to the sound. Let him rap. She was bone weary and it wouldn’t hurt him to lie quietly for a while.

  Early the next morning, Maria was awoken by the sounds of the other girls who had joined her in the bleak dormitory the night before, getting dressed. They had said not one word to her but merely entered the room, collapsed onto their beds and instantly fallen asleep with exhaustion. But not before she had noted that all their eyes were dull and empty. They had obviously lost all hope of ever having any other way of life and accepted their lot silently. But Maria knew that while there was a breath left in her body, she would always be trying to find a way for herself and Faith to escape. But now Maria hastily joined the others as they crowded around the door, trying to tidy her hair as best she could with her fingers.

  After a while the door was unlocked by a stout, sternfaced woman that Maria had not seen before, and they all trooped out into a long corridor. Maria had not slept well, partly due to the bitter cold in the dormitory and partly because her mind was full of concerns for little Faith, and she stifled a yawn as they were shown into a washroom where ice had formed in the water in the tin basins. The girls broke the ice and washed their hands and faces as best they could before drying them on their thin grey dresses. They were then allowed a few moments each to use a row of toilets set against one wall that were no more than wooden seats covering large buckets. The stench that emitted from them was appalling and Maria was humiliated at having to do her toilet in open view of everyone – but knowing that she had no choice, she hitched up her skirt and quickly relieved herself.

  The girls were then marshalled along another corridor; down a steep set of concrete stairs and through what Maria realised must be a dining room for some of the inmates. Her heart ached at the sight of the poor unfortunate souls. Some of them were attempting to feed themselves whilst others were being force-fed by women who looked like prison warders. These then were the lunatics.

  Another door was unlocked and they were led into a smaller room. Maria followed the other girls as they each took up a crude wooden bowl and queued at a table where a woman was slopping porridge into each dish. The girls sat down at bare wooden tables, and taking up the tin spoons placed there, they gobbled down the food as if they were starving. Maria’s nose wrinkled as she looked at the greasy mess in her dish but she tried to force herself to eat a little at least. After a while as the girl sitting next to her noticed that Maria had not finished all her food, she snatched up the bowl and scraped it clean in seconds as Maria’s stomach revolted. And then one by one they began to drift away from the tables and stand at the door until eventually it was opened and Mrs Bradshaw entered the room. Crooking her finger at Maria, the Matron commanded, ‘Come along, you, there’s work to be done.’

  ‘Where am I to be working?’ she asked as she obediently swung her legs off the bench and Mrs Bradshaw’s answer made her heart flutter.

  ‘Up in the nursery, but only because that brat of yours has been yarking all night and keeping the rest of the babies awake. If she doesn’t settle down soon, we shall have to gag her.’ Mrs Bradshaw tutted. ‘She must have been spoiled rotten – but that young lady will soon get used to the fact that no one comes running here when she screams!’

  Maria’s heart fluttered with joy at the thought of seeing Faith again and she swallowed the hasty retort that had sprung to her lips. She mustn’t do anything that might jeopardise her being allowed to work in the nursery. Endless corridors and stairs later, Mrs Bradshaw stopped at a door and after selecting another key from her chatelaine she unlocked it whilst Maria wondered how she ever remembered which key was which. There were so many locked doors in this place and it did not bode well for her chances of escaping.

  And then they were in an oblong room full of wooden cots that were little more than boxes, and she instantly heard Faith crying lustily. She would have recognised the sound anywhere.

  ‘See what I mean?’ Mrs Bradshaw said irritably. ‘She has been carrying on like that all night.’ She pointed to a table where a number of bottles were filled with milk and told Maria, ‘Make sure they all get one each and you’ll find their clean bindings in that box there. Throw all the soiled ones into the buckets and a laundry maid will come up to collect them later. I’ll have something sent up for you to eat at dinnertime, but in the meantime stop that dratted child crying or it’ll be the worse for her.’ And with that the woman left, slamming the door resoundingly behind her.

  Maria walked amongst the cots, her eyes settling on the emaciated little faces that stared up at her. They appeared to range in age from newborn up to one year old, and their eyes, like those of the girls with whom she had shared a dormitory, were dead
and unblinking. They had long ceased to cry; they knew that no one would come to them even if they did. Maria’s heart was breaking but she forced herself to get on with the job, and at last she was looking down on Faith, who was red in the face with indignation. Unlike her roommates, she had never been left to cry and she wasn’t used to such treatment.

  ‘There there then, I’m here now,’ Maria soothed as she lifted the small body and rocked her to and fro. The child smelled strongly of urine and Maria guessed that it must have been many hours since she had had her bindings changed. Faith’s sobs immediately dulled to whimpers at the feel of the familiar arms about her. Maria expertly changed her; horrified at the red rash that had erupted all over the tender skin of her bottom, and then crossing to the table, she lifted one of the bottles of milk. It was stone cold as was the room where the babies were kept because the fire in the grate had burned low. Faith preferred her milk slightly warmed but seeing as there was nothing she could do about it for now, Maria offered her the teat and the child began to suckle greedily. When the milk was finished the child eventually drifted off into an exhausted nap, so after laying her in her cot, Maria began to lift the other babies from their cots and one at a time she fed and changed them. Some of their bottoms were so sore from lack of being changed that there was barely any skin on them, but not one of them made any complaint as she cleaned them as gently as she could. They just stared up at her and her heart broke afresh. Somehow she had to help them!

  Chapter Thirty-one

  At the gentleman’s club in town later that night, Robert Pettifer stared over the rim of his brandy glass and asked, ‘Is there something troubling you, Charles? You seem very preoccupied this evening.’

  ‘What?’ Charles swirled the whisky in his glass before answering absently, ‘Oh, nothing more than woman trouble, Robert. I’m afraid Helena is being rather difficult at present.’

 

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