‘Thank you,’ Meg said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.
Ursula glared at her for a moment, before turning and leaving the room.
‘Never mind what that dragon says, Mam. Come and lie down. Here, these are our beds next to each other.’
In the able women’s dormitory the beds were still straw palliasses with rough grey blankets and one pillow, but the mattresses were now sitting on a four-legged wooden frame.
Sarah allowed Meg to help her to one, where she lay back and gave a weary sigh.
Meg sat beside her holding her hand, concerned by its feeling of limp clamminess. Letitia appeared beside them and stood for a moment, looking down at Sarah. Then she gave a brief nod.
‘We’ll let her rest today, but tomorrow she must try to do a little work. And the following day you’ll have to be interviewed by the board of guardians. That’s when their next meeting is.’
Sarah lay quite still, her eyes closed, and made no sign that she had even heard the matron. Letitia Pendleton glanced at Meg. ‘But you go with Waters, Kirkland. She’ll introduce you to Miss Daley, the schoolmistress. I’m sure she’ll be glad of your help. She’s run ragged by the little tykes.’ But the matron spoke the last few words with a fond smile.
Meg rose, bent and kissed her mother’s damp forehead and followed Ursula out of the room. ‘Where’s Bobbie? Is he all right?’ she asked.
‘Of course he’s all right,’ Ursula snapped. ‘Why shouldn’t he be?’
‘No reason,’ Meg said swiftly. ‘I just thought – I just thought he might be missing Mam.’
‘Well, he isn’t. He stayed with matron last night. She keeps a truckle bed in her room in case any of the little ones are fretful the first night in a strange place.’ She sniffed. ‘Though goodness knows why. It’s spoiling the little brats, to my mind.’
Meg bit her lip. She wasn’t sure of the matron’s motives. It sounded, on the surface, as if the woman was kindness itself, but surely, she thought, if Miss Pendleton had really had Bobbie’s best interests at heart, she would have let him stay with his mother and sister.
Keeping her tone polite and deferential, Meg asked, ‘Couldn’t he have stayed with us? Like she promised?’
‘It was better to make the break straight away. We must stick to the rules. The master’s rules.’ Ursula’s words were a pious chant. ‘The place would soon be in an uproar if we didn’t.
Meg said nothing, but she wondered if it had been the matron or Ursula Waters who had enforced a rule that was harsh enough to keep a lost, lonely, little five-year-old boy from his mother.
Ursula led the way along passages and through doors until they came to a large room which Meg recognized. This was the guardians’ meeting room – the room through which they had passed when they had arrived. There was a large door at the end, opposite the entrance door through which Meg and her family had first come in. Behind it, Meg could already hear the noise of children.
Ursula opened the door and stepped inside. Meg was close on her heels, anxious to see Bobbie.
‘Quiet!’ Ursula bellowed, making Meg and everyone in the room jump. Twenty pairs of eyes turned to look at her, including those of the harassed young schoolmistress.
Suddenly there was the scrape of a stool being pushed back and a little figure hurtled towards them, flinging himself against Meg.
‘Bobbie, oh, Bobbie,’ she cried, hugging him.
‘Stop that this instant.’ Ursula grabbed the child’s arm and pulled him away. ‘If you’re to help Miss Daley, Kirkland, you must treat your brother just like all the other children. Do you understand?’
Giving Bobbie a quick smile, Meg said, ‘Go back to your place.’ She bent close and whispered in his ear. ‘I’m to help the teacher, so I’ll be with you every day. But we’ll have to behave.’
Understanding quickly, the little boy nodded solemnly. He turned, glanced up at Ursula and mumbled, ‘Sorry, miss.’ Then he trotted back meekly to his seat next to a boy with a shaven head and scabs on his face.
To see her mischievous, sunny-natured little brother so docile and in such a place as this broke Meg’s heart.
Five
Miss Daley didn’t look much older than she was, Meg thought, though surely the schoolmistress must be in her mid-twenties at least. She was small and slim with gentle eyes. Her black hair was fastened up into a bun on the back of her head, though curly tendrils escaped onto her forehead. She wore a navy blue costume with a fitted jacket and beneath it a blue and white striped blouse. Her pretty face with a small nose and perfectly shaped mouth was marred by a perpetual worried frown that creased her forehead.
As soon as Ursula had left the room, closing the door behind her, Louisa reached out to Meg.
‘I’m so pleased to see you. I’ve been asking for some help for ages, but the guardians won’t approve the employment of another teacher. And they keep telling me there’s no one suitable amongst the women here, which,’ she added wryly, ‘I don’t believe. But, there you are.’ Louisa smiled and the anxiety left her face for a brief moment.
Meg warmed to her at once. ‘What am I to call you?’
‘Miss Daley or just miss in front of the children.’ Louisa leant closer and lowered her voice, ‘But in private please call me Louisa. And you’re Meg, aren’t you?’
Meg nodded. ‘Yes, but I thought we had to be called by our surnames?’
‘Ah – well – yes. And in front of the class I’m afraid that is the name I’ll have to use. Kirkland, isn’t it? You’re Bobbie’s sister?’
Meg nodded.
‘Good, good. Now for today if you would just help in general, but this evening, when the children are in bed, I should like to give you a few tests and then I can assess what you will be able to do in the way of teaching.’
‘Teaching? You’re going to let me help with the teaching?’ Meg’s eyes were shining.
‘It depends,’ was all Louisa would say. ‘I can’t promise until I see what you can do.’
For the first time in her young life, Meg wished that she had not been so eager to leave school and start working. Perhaps she too could have had a career like this smart young woman.
In the middle of the morning the door to the school room was flung open and the huge figure of the master filled the doorway. With one accord the children scrambled to their feet and stood in silence, their heads bowed. One or two of the little ones trembled.
‘Miss Daley,’ Isaac’s deep voice boomed. ‘I see you have a new helper. What a pretty picture you both make.’ He moved forward into the room towards them, totally ignoring the children. For him they did not exist.
He stood close to Miss Daley and took her hand. The young woman blushed and looked as if she would like to pull away, but did not dare.
‘Bring your little friend to see me whilst the children take their exercise after lunch, my dear.’
He raised her hand to his lips and then, without waiting for any kind of reply so sure was he of her obedience, the master turned and walked back down the room. As the door closed behind him, Louisa closed her eyes and shivered. ‘One of these days,’ she murmured. ‘One of these days.’
‘What?’ Meg said before she thought to stop herself. ‘What do you mean?’
Startled, as if she had forgotten Meg’s presence, Louisa’s eyes flew open. ‘What? Oh – oh, nothing.’ She took a deep breath before she said briskly, ‘Now, please see that each child has a slate and I’ll write on the board what I want them to copy.’
The morning passed quickly and soon the children were being given their lunch and sent out into the women’s back courtyard.
‘Poor little mites,’ Louisa murmured as she and Meg ushered them through the door and watched one or two rushing towards the women there. ‘It’s the only time they get to see their mothers.’
To Meg’s surprise, most of the children stayed together and began to play a game. ‘What about those? Don’t they want to find their mams?’
Louisa glance
d at her and then looked back at the group of children. The girls had found a long piece of old rope. Two of the girls, one at either end, turned the rope and the others queued up to take turns at skipping in and out. All of them took up the chant, ‘One, two, buckle my shoe; three, four, knock at the door . . .’
At her side, Louisa said quietly, ‘They’re the ones who haven’t got any mothers. They’re the orphans.’
Horrified, Meg stared at her. ‘You mean – you mean they’ve got no one? No father either?’
Louisa, her gaze still on the skipping children, shook her head. Then with a sigh she said, ‘Come on. We’d better go and see Mr Pendleton.’
From the yard they went in through the back entrance, turned left along the passage past the kitchen and went into the committee room. Instead of turning left again back into the school room, Louisa led the way across the room to a door on the opposite side, along a short passageway and turned to the right. There were two doors close together, one to the left and one directly in front of them. Louisa gestured towards the one on the left. ‘That one’s the clerk’s office. You won’t see much of him. He comes in each weekday, but he – he doesn’t live in.’ There was a note of envy in the young woman’s voice. Louisa raised her hand to knock on the door facing them. ‘This one’s the master’s room.’
At the sound of Isaac’s booming voice, the two young women glanced at each other and, taking a deep breath, Louisa opened the door.
‘Ah, my dear, come in, come in,’ the master welcomed as they sidled into the room. ‘Come and sit down. You, too, my dear,’ he held out his arm invitingly to Meg.
The room seemed to be used mainly as an office. A large leather-topped desk occupied the centre of the room and behind it was a swivel chair that looked battered and well worn. Meg smothered an impudent laugh as she imagined the poor chair suffering Mr Pendleton’s bulk. No wonder it looked in such a sorry state.
The surface of the desk was littered with untidy heaps of papers, a silver inkstand, a glass tray for pens and a long, thin cane like the one the headmaster at Meg’s last school had always kept near at hand.
At the far end of the room a fire burned in the grate and above it an ornate mantelpiece held ornaments and framed photographs of stiff-backed figures, self-conscious as they faced the camera. In front of the fireplace was a lumpy yet comfortable-looking sofa with battered easy chairs on either side. As Meg moved closer, she saw that one of the photographs was of the master. His round face was solemn as befitted the serious business of sitting for a photographer – yet it was unmistakably a much younger, fitter-looking Isaac Pendleton. There were two other photographs. One was of a thin-faced, shy-looking young woman with fluffy fair hair. But it was the other that caught and held Meg’s attention. The girl in the picture was very pretty with a sweet face and beautiful dark hair cascading in curls and waves down to her waist. Meg stared in astonishment. The photograph, she was sure, was of Letitia Pendleton.
The master waved Louisa and Meg to the sofa, where they sat side by side as if seeking reassurance from each other. The big man took one of the easy chairs. He beamed at them. ‘Well now, this is nice. Shall I ring for some tea?’
Louisa shook her head. ‘That’s very kind of you, sir, but we really only have a few minutes. The children—’
‘Ah yes. Of course, the children,’ he murmured. ‘We mustn’t forget the children, must we?’ Then his smile widened as he glanced at Meg. ‘But now that you have a helper, my dear, perhaps you will have a little more free time, eh?’
Without warning, he leant across and squeezed Louisa’s knee. Meg almost gasped aloud as she saw Louisa flush. To Meg’s amazement, the young woman made no attempt to move the master’s hand.
I’d have slapped him, Meg thought disgustedly. The dirty old man.
‘It – it’s very kind of you to permit Kirkland to help in the classroom,’ was all Louisa said.
‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but we had to wait until someone suitable arrived, didn’t we?’ Now he looked directly at Meg. ‘And how is your dear mother, my child?’
Meg ran her tongue nervously around her lips, forcing herself to be respectful. ‘Matron has allowed her to rest today, sir.’
‘Good, good. I’ll try to visit her myself later.’
‘I’m sorry, but we must go,’ Louisa said, standing up. The master’s hand was dislodged from her knee and he too rose.
‘You must let me know how your little helper shapes up.’
Louisa inclined her head obediently and began to move towards the door. Meg sprang to her feet and followed close behind, anxious not to be left alone with Isaac Pendleton. The big man lumbered forward, opening the door for them with a great flourish. ‘I’ll see you again, my dears, very soon.’
As the door closed behind them and they hurried back along the passageway, through the committee room towards the school room, Louisa murmured, ‘I’m sorry you had to see that, Meg. It – it’s not what you think. At least – not on my part.’
‘Then why don’t you say something – tell him – slap his hand away? I would,’ Meg declared.
Louisa gasped and stopped in her tracks. Shocked, she turned to stare at Meg. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’ She shook her head. ‘What d’you think would happen if I did that? I’d be dismissed at once. And without a reference.’
Meg stared as the young schoolmistress went on, ‘We all have to do just as we’re told in here. The inmates, the staff, everyone.’
‘Why?’
‘Why do you think? We’ll be turned out into the street if we don’t.’
‘Haven’t you any family to go to?’
Louisa’s face was downcast. ‘I – I’ve a widowed mother,’ she muttered, but the confidence was shared reluctantly. ‘She’s not well and can’t work. It’s only because I’ve got this job that she can stay in her own home. Otherwise . . .’
She said no more, but Meg understood the implication. Otherwise, Louisa’s mother would be forced to end her days as an inmate of the infirm women’s dormitory.
The children clattered back into the classroom and Bobbie ran straight to Meg to be picked up and hugged. Though Louisa glanced at them, she said nothing.
Meg soon realized that Louisa’s time was totally taken up with caring for and teaching the children. The children’s dormitory was on the first floor, just across the landing from the master’s bedroom, and the young schoolmistress slept in a tiny room at the far end of the dormitory.
‘Don’t you get any time off?’ Meg asked, finding that she too was expected to be with the children all day long.
‘One day a month when I go to see my mother.’
‘Does she live nearby?’
‘Yes. In the town.’
‘Don’t you get any time to yourself in the evenings when they’re in bed?’
‘I . . .’ Louisa began and then bit her lip. ‘I – have to be with them. They’re still my responsibility.’ She bowed her head, avoiding Meg’s questioning gaze.
‘Well, it seems unfair to me. I’d’ve thought you could have had a bit of time off in the evenings.’ Meg was beginning to see how easy her life on the farm had been in comparison with this young woman’s existence. An existence that was perhaps now going to be hers too, she thought with dread.
Six
Sarah, Meg and Bobbie stood before the guardians’ committee. A row of bewhiskered, rotund gentlemen sat on the other side of the long table. The only faces they knew were those of the master and the medical officer. Dr Collins was not officially a member of the board, but he was frequently asked to sit in on their meetings to give his opinion and the findings of his examinations of those applying for admission.
A portly, red-faced man with bushy grey sideburns, sitting in the centre of the row, took charge of the meeting. He tapped on the table to bring the guardians to order. Then, in a gravelly voice, he asked Sarah for their names and demanded that she explain how they had come to present themselves at
the workhouse door.
Sarah’s face was deathly white, her eyes huge pools of suffering and shame. Her head sank lower and she spoke in a whisper.
‘Speak up, woman. I can scarcely hear you.’
Meg put her arm about her mother’s shoulders and faced the row of disapproving faces. ‘My father’s employers turned us out of our home. They dismissed him and me too. But don’t ask me why because no one will tell me.’
‘Who were your employers, girl?’
‘Mr and Mrs Smallwood at Middleditch Farm.’
‘Smallwood? I know him,’ the chairman said. ‘Meet him at the races now and then. He’s a decent enough chap.’ He turned towards his colleagues on the board, first one way and then the other. ‘A good man. Yes, yes, a good man.’ Frowning, he turned back to Meg. ‘Your father – or you – must have seriously displeased him in some way for a man like Smallwood to dismiss you. Without a reference, I take it.’
Meg was forced to nod.
‘Humph,’ the man grunted. ‘That says it all, in my opinion.’
Suddenly, Sarah gave a little cry and leant heavily against Meg. She clutched at her stomach and bent forward.
‘Mam, what is it . . . ?’ Meg began, but her mother’s weight was too much for the girl to hold and Sarah slipped to the floor in a faint.
At once, Dr Collins rose and came round the end of the table. Isaac Pendleton, too, was instantly on his feet. He pointed at Bobbie. ‘You, little boy. Run and find the matron.’
But Bobbie stood transfixed. He took no notice of the master and began to whimper, squatting down beside his mother and shaking her. ‘Mam, Mam . . .’
‘I’ll go,’ Meg muttered now that the doctor was bending down beside Sarah. Without waiting for per-mission, she whirled around and ran towards the door.
Dr Collins took Sarah’s limp wrist in one hand and placed the palm of his other over the mound of her stomach. Several of the guardians shuffled their papers and looked away in embarrassment. They murmured amongst themselves and then the chairman said, ‘Well, that seems to settle it. You’d better admit the family, Master. We’ll review their situation once this woman has been delivered of her child.’ He cleared his throat and stroked his right sideburn. ‘Another mouth for the parish to feed, I’ll be bound.’ He went on muttering and grumbling under his breath. ‘Something should be done about these people who have no more sense than to go on breeding even when they cannot support themselves.’
Without Sin Page 4