Isaac Pendleton cleared his throat. ‘Mr Finch – I have checked our books and there is no record of this family having been in the workhouse in the last few years. Some misfortune has befallen them. I’m sure it’s only temporary and—’
‘That’s as maybe,’ Mr Finch interrupted gruffly, ‘but they should make provision for misfortune.’
Isaac frowned, but bit back his words. Theobald Finch lived in the Hall, the largest house in South Monkford. He owned almost half the commercial properties along the High Street as well as cottages and houses in other parts of the town. He had considerable influence in the community, yet there was no love lost between the chairman of the board of guardians and the master of the workhouse. They had clashed on all sorts of matters on numerous occasions. Indeed, Isaac knew that Theobald Finch would have him removed from his post if he could, but there were reasons why Theobald would make no move against him. Isaac allowed himself a satisfied smirk. His position was safe. He knew that and – better still – he was aware that Theobald Finch knew it too. Besides, the rest of the board members liked Isaac Pendleton. The workhouse had never been run as efficiently or economically as it was under his authority. They would never agree to his dismissal without reason. Just because the two men disliked each other was not a good enough motive in their opinion. In fact, it amused the other members of the board to watch the two men needling each other whenever they got the chance. Theobald was glaring at Isaac now. He nodded towards the prone form on the floor. ‘One of your lady friends, is she, Pendleton? I wouldn’t put it past you . . .’
But at that moment Meg rushed back into the room, followed by Miss Pendleton and Waters, and in the general hubbub that followed whatever Theobald had been about to say was lost.
The matron bent down over Sarah and held a small bottle beneath her nose. In a moment Sarah began to splutter and revive. After a few minutes Meg and Waters were able to help her up.
‘Take her to the infirmary, if you please, Matron,’ Dr Collins said. ‘She’s going into labour. I’ll come along in a few minutes when you’ve got her into bed.’
Although Miss Pendleton laughed and tapped the doctor playfully on his arm, there was an undercurrent of huffiness as she said, ‘There’s no need for that, Doctor. I’m sure me and Waters know what we’re doing. We’ve delivered more babies into the world than you’ve got patients.’
‘I’m sure you have, Miss Pendleton.’ The young doctor smiled placatingly. ‘I’m sure you have, but—’
‘We’ll send for you if we need you, Doctor,’ the matron said and though she was still smiling there was a firmness to her tone that forbade him to overstep his authority. Within these walls her brother and she were in supreme charge.
‘Quite so, Matron,’ Mr Finch, who had been listening to the exchange, put in. ‘We don’t want the bill for your services here getting any longer than it has to be, Doctor.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of charging anything in this case,’ Dr Collins said mildly. ‘But as you wish, Matron, as you wish.’ So saying, he walked back to his seat behind the table.
As the matron and Waters helped Sarah towards the door, Meg and Bobbie, holding hands, fell into step behind them.
‘You, girl. Kirkland –’ Meg turned to see the master pointing at her – ‘take your brother and go back to the classroom.’
‘Oh, but I want to go with Mam—’ Meg began.
Dr Collins sprang to his feet again and beamed at Meg. ‘Now, Meg, your mother is in good hands, so how about I come with you and say hello to all the children, eh?’ He turned and smiled charmingly at the chairman. ‘And no, Mr Finch, there will be no charge.’
He moved towards Meg and Bobbie and, stepping between them, put an arm around each of their shoulders. As he ushered them towards the double doors at the end of the room leading into the school room, he whispered in Meg’s ear, ‘Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll hang around here for a while and make sure your mother’s all right before I leave. Now, here we are, I’m sure the lovely Miss Daley will be delighted to see you back.’
He removed his arms from around them and threw open the doors with a flourish. There was a scraping of stools as all the children stood up. Meg saw Louisa look up, dread on her face, but when the young schoolmistress saw who was standing there, a pretty, pink blush tinged her cheeks.
The doctor moved between the rows of desks, not even glancing down at the children as he passed between their ranks. His gaze was all for Louisa Daley.
Meg’s mind was hardly on her job during the rest of the morning. She longed for lunchtime so that she could run across to the infirmary and see how her mother was. Dr Collins, after a long, whispered conversation with Louisa, still did not leave the classroom. He pretended to be interested in the children’s work, but his glance strayed every few seconds back to the schoolmistress. The blush on Louisa’s face deepened.
A few minutes before twelve, the door flew open and a flustered Waters, cap awry and hair falling from its prim bun, appeared.
‘Doctor – thank goodness I’ve found you. Please come at once. The baby – it’s not breathing. Matron’s tried everything, but—’
He stayed to hear no more but was through the door and gone before anyone else could move. Meg dropped the slate she had been holding and, picking up her skirts, fled after him, almost knocking Waters over in her haste.
‘Meg! Kirkland!’ Louisa began, but the girl had no intention of heeding her. ‘What is it?’ Louisa asked Ursula. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Kirkland’s mother’s had her baby.’
‘And?’
Waters glanced round the room at the twenty pairs of staring eyes. Her gaze came back to meet Louisa’s. She said no more but lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug.
Louisa closed her eyes and gave a groan. She opened them to find Bobbie tugging at her skirt. ‘Mammy? I want my mammy. Where’s Meg gone?’
Louisa knelt on the rough wooden floor and drew the little boy into her arms.
Meg heard her mother’s wailing as she raced up the stairs to the infirmary which was situated across the men’s backyard and above the bake house.
How many times before had she heard that sobbing? Three, was it, or four? The young girl couldn’t be sure. There had been a couple of times when she had been very little and had not understood what had happened. Then, when Bobbie had been three and she thirteen, Meg had understood only too well. Her mother’s pregnancy had ended in a stillbirth and Sarah’s raging tears.
And now, in this awful place, it had happened again.
Later, Meg was allowed to sit beside her mother’s bed and hold her hand.
‘Just a few moments,’ Matron said gently. ‘Then you must leave her to rest. She’s had a bad time, poor thing.’
‘Can Bobbie come and see her?’
‘Best not. But don’t you worry about him. I’ll look after Bobbie. He can have his tea with me in my room.’
Meg smiled wanly, surprised at Miss Pendleton’s kindness.
‘I’ll go and find him now and tell him what’s happened. He’s too young to understand. Good thing, really.’
Meg nodded, a huge lump in her throat and her eyes full of tears. As Miss Pendleton left the room, Meg leant towards her mother. ‘Mam,’ she whispered softly, ‘Mam – how are you feeling?’
Sarah, her face flushed from the effort of giving birth and from her weeping when all her efforts had come to naught, lay still, her eyes closed.
‘Do you – do you want me to go and find Dad?’ Meg suggested. ‘I could—’
Now Sarah roused herself. ‘No!’ Her voice was surprisingly strong. ‘No,’ she said again as she sank back. ‘You look after Bobbie. There’s a good girl. Ne’er mind about your dad.’
‘But – but he’ll want to know.’
Sarah was silent now, her eyes closed.
‘He ought to know,’ Meg insisted and when her mother did not answer, she pressed again, ‘Mam?’
‘Leave it, Meg. There’s a go
od girl. Just leave it, will you?’
Meg sat beside her for a few moments more, chewing her little finger agitatedly. Her dad ought to be told. Whatever had happened, he would want to know. Perhaps he had already found work and, as soon as her mother was well, they could all leave here and be together again.
When she could see that Sarah was sleeping, Meg crept away. As she stepped out of the doorway at the bottom of the stairs and into the yard, a figure emerged out of the shadows.
‘Hello, again. I thought it was you I saw running across the yard earlier.’
It was the boy who had spoken to her on the day they had arrived. Now, what was his name? Frowning, Meg tried to remember.
‘It’s Jake,’ he said helpfully, grinning at her through the gloom. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.’
‘Sorry,’ Meg smiled faintly. ‘I’m not thinking straight. It’s me mam.’
At once the boy’s face sobered. ‘Is she poorly?’
‘Well, sort of. She – she’s just had a baby, only . . .’ She bit her lip to stop it quivering, but failed. Tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks.
‘Aw, don’t cry. A babby’s nice, even in here.’ Awkward with embarrassment, the boy put his arm about her and she rested her face against his shoulder.
‘I know, but – but it was born dead.’
Jake could think of nothing to say to comfort her, but his arm tightened about her.
They stood together in the empty yard in the growing dusk. Then suddenly, the silence was shattered as a window on the first floor was thrown up and the master leant out.
‘Hey, you there. What do you think you’re doing?’
Startled, the two youngsters looked up.
‘Oh heck,’ Jake said, his arm falling away from around Meg. ‘Now we’re in for it.’
Isaac’s deep voice echoed across the yard. ‘My office now. The pair of you.’
Then the window was slammed down with such a force that the small glass panes rattled.
Seven
They stood together outside the door of the master’s office. Jake was trembling.
‘What are you so frightened of?’ Meg asked. ‘What can he do to us?’
Jake glanced at her, then looked down at the floor. ‘It’ll be a beating for me. Or – or the punishment cell. He can’t wait to send me there. Mind you – he should get the guardians’ agreement before he does that.’ Then he muttered beneath his breath, ‘But usually he doesn’t bother.’
‘What – what’ll he do to me?’
Again Jake glanced swiftly and then looked away again. Then he shrugged. ‘Nothing, probably. If – if you’re nice to him.’
‘Nice to him? What do you mean?’
‘I dunno really. I just know that he’s not so strict on the girls. And you’re new here, so if you smile prettily at him and say you’re sorry, mebbe you’ll get away with it.’
The door flew open and Isaac stood there. He looked nothing like the kindly, avuncular figure he had seemed before. Now he resembled a raging bull.
‘You, boy, in here.’
As Jake stepped forward, Meg did so too, but the master said sharply, ‘No, you stay there, girl. I’ll see you in a moment.’
The second that Jake stepped into the room the door was slammed behind him, but because the master was shouting Meg could hear every word.
‘How many beatings do I have to give you, boy, before you learn the rules? Eh? Eh? Answer me that. It’s not as if you’ve any excuse. You’ve been here all your life. You were born here, yet you still flout the rules at every end and turn. And don’t expect Miss Pendleton to come running to your aid. Not this time when I tell her what you’ve done. Such disgusting behaviour with a young and innocent wench. In broad daylight and in the middle of the yard too. Have you no shame, boy?’
Meg heard Jake’s muttered response, but she could not make out the words. His voice was too low.
‘Upset, you say? Of course the lass was upset. Her mother has just lost her baby. But that’s no excuse for what you were trying to do.’
Again, a low reply from Jake.
‘Comfort?’ Isaac laughed cruelly. ‘I know the kind of “comfort” you had in mind, you dirty little tyke. Taking advantage of the poor lass when she was upset. That’s what you were doing.’
Another murmur from Jake and then the sound of a slap. ‘Don’t answer me back, boy. And like I say, it’ll be no good running to matron. Not this time. You may have been her blue-eyed boy up to now, but when she hears you’ve been after a young girl, then she’ll have no more sympathy for you. You mark my words. You’ll have blotted your copybook with her good an’ proper.’
Meg blinked. The master sounded gleeful, as if he had been waiting for just such an occasion.
‘It’s the cell for you, boy, for a couple of days and nothing to eat but bread and water. Let’s see if that’ll curb your beastly desires.’
This time, Meg heard Jake argue. ‘You can’t do that. Not without the guardians’ say-so.’
Isaac’s answering bellow seemed to shake the door. ‘How dare you argue with me?’
Heavy footsteps moved across the room, then came the sound of something swishing through the air. Meg shuddered, knowing that the master had picked up the cane from his desk. ‘Bend over, boy. We’ll see what a good thrashing can do for you. I don’t need to ask the guardians’ permission for that!’
Meg was forced to stand listening to every swipe of the cane. They seemed to go on and on, yet Jake made no sound. Not a cry, not even a whimper.
When she could bear it no longer, she turned and ran out into the men’s backyard, looking wildly to right and left. But the dusk had deepened. It was almost dark now and the yard was deserted. Then she heard a noise behind her in the building and turned to see a strange man just inside the entrance locking the door to the left of the master’s room. He turned and came towards her, stepping out into the evening air. A tall, thin man dressed in a dark suit with a starched white collar. His face was pale and gaunt and he stooped slightly, as if he spent too much time indoors bending over his books and ledgers. He paused for a moment and straightened up, taking in a deep breath as if it were the first time he had breathed fresh air that day.
‘Sir – oh, sir,’ she cried. The man jumped and blinked. He took a step back, startled by the girl rushing towards him. ‘Please help us. The master. He’s thrashing a boy. Jake. Oh, please stop him. Please do something.’
The man’s lips curled. ‘Jake Bosley?’
‘I – I don’t know his second name. Only that he’s called Jake.’
The man nodded and said curtly, ‘That’ll be him, all right. Trouble, he is, with a capital T. You’d do best to keep your distance from him.’ He bent closer, squinting at her through the darkness. ‘I haven’t seen you before. Just come in, have you?’
Meg nodded. ‘Three days ago.’
‘So how do you know Jake?’
‘I don’t. At least, I mean, I met him in here. In the yard.’
‘What’s he done?’ Again the man’s lips were tight with anticipated disapproval.
‘He was trying to comfort me. My mother’s just – just lost her baby and I was upset. He only put his arm around me.’
‘Put – his – arm – round – you!’ The man was scandalized.
‘Well, yes. I was crying and—’
‘He’s not even supposed to talk to you, let alone have physical contact. Where do you think it would lead if we allowed that sort of thing to go on? Why do you think we separate the men from the women? Oh no, I’m sorry, girl, but there’s nothing I can do. And let me tell you, even if I could I wouldn’t. Bosley deserves every bit of punishment he gets. And if you’ve any sense, you’ll get back to the women’s quarters pretty sharpish and stay there.’
Meg stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then her shoulders dropped with defeat. ‘I – I can’t. I was told to wait outside the master’s room.’
‘Then I suggest you get bac
k there at once.’
Without another word the man stepped aside, walked around her and crossed the yard into the darkness. With the sound of finality, the entrance door banged behind him as he left. Dragging her feet, Meg went back into the building to wait outside the master’s room.
The sound of the beating had stopped, but Isaac was still shouting. ‘Get yourself to the cell.’
The door opened and Meg, her eyes widening, gasped in horror. Jake emerged slowly, hardly able to walk. Tears streamed down his face, but still he made no sound.
Instinctively, Meg reached out to him. ‘Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry . . .’
The boy shrank from her, avoiding her touch. He turned his head away and moved towards the door. She watched him go, sick at heart to think that he hated her now. But at the doorway, hidden from Isaac Pendleton’s view, he turned and smiled. Though his mouth still trembled he winked at her. He glanced back at the door to the master’s room and, as Isaac appeared, he turned away abruptly.
‘Come in, Kirkland,’ the master said. His voice was still stern, but he was no longer shouting.
Trembling and biting her lip, Meg moved forward and entered the room. Isaac closed the door firmly behind her.
‘Now, my dear—’ Suddenly, his tone was very different. He smiled down at her and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Come along and sit by the fire and we’ll have a little chat, shall we?’ He guided her towards the sofa and pressed her to sit down. Then he sat down close by, leaning towards her. Putting his fat hand on her knee, he said, ‘You’ve not been here long, so I’m not going to punish you. Not this time, but you must understand and obey the rules we have here.’
Without Sin Page 5