Believing in tomorrow, p.2
Believing in Tomorrow, page 2
Molly couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t gone to bed hungry, and now, as she entered the cottage in the hamlet with her mother, Ada McKenzie said, ‘It’ll only be us an’ the lads eating. Your da and the other men are going to Farmer Roach’s straight from the fields for supper.’
Pretending this was news to her, Molly said, ‘Why?’
‘’Cause the harvest’s in,’ her mother said shortly.
From her mother’s sharp tone, Molly suspected she was as put out as Fanny’s mam about the matter, but she said nothing more. When her mother was in a mood about something or other it didn’t take much for her to lash out and give her daughter a stinging slap across the side of the head which sometimes made her ear ache for days.
She went about the evening routine quietly, pouring some water from the bucket by the door into a tin basin, washing her hands with the slab of blue-veined soap which never lathered and leaving the basin on the stool for the lads to use when they came in. She then placed four bowls, spoons and mugs on the rough wooden table and poured more water from the bucket into a large jug which she put in the centre. As she finished doing this her two brothers walked in, and immediately her mother’s persona changed as she turned from stirring the rabbit stew and smiled at them, saying, ‘There you are. Wash your hands an’ come and sit down, lads.’
Once her sons were seated, Ada dished out the stew into the four bowls before cutting up the remains of a stale loaf and placing a large chunk beside each of the boys’ bowls and her own. She didn’t offer one to Molly and Molly hadn’t expected her to. Her mother had always seen to it that she and Josiah and the lads were fed first. From babyhood, Molly and Kitty had got used to going without.
Once the simple meal was over, Fred looked at his mother. ‘Me an’ Caleb’ll be off now.’ And then he surprised Molly by adding, ‘We can take Molly with us, Mam. I’ll see she comes to no harm.’
For a moment Molly’s hope soared. This would solve her having to sneak out.
‘All the bairns are going to the fair,’ Fred continued, ‘and—’
‘No.’ Ada’s voice brooked no argument. ‘It’s getting dark already and you know your da wouldn’t allow it. If he came home before you brought her back there’d be hell to pay.’
Fred cast a glance at his sister as if to say, Well, I tried, before pulling Caleb to his feet. ‘I’ll bring you back a taffy apple,’ he promised Molly, surprising her further. ‘All right?’
She smiled at him and nodded, warmed by the unusual show of brotherly thoughtfulness.
Once the lads had gone Molly washed the dishes and emptied the basin outside, before fetching more wood for the fire from the stack of kindling and logs stored under the tin-roofed lean-to next to the wall of the cottage. She put some to one side of the brick hearth and then swept the stone-flagged floor. That done, she picked up the empty bucket and made her way along the narrow path at the back of the cottages to the stream.
She stood for a moment in the soft darkness. A bird trilled briefly in the hedgerow bordering one side of the stream and in the distance a fox barked harshly. Although the day had been cold the sunshine had brought out the rich smell of vegetation and she sniffed appreciatively. Now the sun had set there was a definite bite to the air which announced that winter was round the corner. It always came early in the north, which ensured everyone made the most of the late summer days.
The enormity of what she proposed to do swept over her and she shivered. Sneaking out to accompany Fanny and the others to the fair was daring, but her mam and da would never know, she reassured herself in the next moment. Farmer Roach brewed his own beer, umpteen gallons a year in old rum puncheons, which he dished out to the labourers working at his farm with their lunchtime meal. It was one of the perks on the Roach farm, and the reason men vied with each other to work there. The beer would be flowing freely tonight for sure and, according to what folk said, it was potent stuff. The men would make a night of it and she would be home long before her da returned. Aye, it would be all right, she told herself again, even as her stomach turned over at her temerity.
Once back at the cottage she said goodnight to her mother, who was sitting in front of the fire, half-asleep in one of the two tattered armchairs the room boasted. Neither Molly nor her siblings had ever sat in them; it was an unspoken rule that they were purely for their parents’ use.
Once she had climbed the ladder to the upstairs room, she opened the window as far as it would go and climbed onto the sill. That was easy enough, but a mass of briars protruded over the edge of the bank and by the time she had climbed out she had scratches everywhere. Trying to ignore the smarting pain, she established a firm footing and then silently made her way along the back of the cottage, only climbing down to the ground when she was some distance away. She stood in the lane, panting and smoothing her dress and smock before detangling her long hair, which had got caught in the thorns.
She had done it, she thought with a dart of excitement and fear, and she’d worry about getting back in when she had to. She just hoped Fanny and the others were waiting for her at their meeting place or else all this would have been for nothing. She would never dare to try and find the fair on her own.
She needn’t have worried. As she neared Whistler’s Corner, Fanny came running to meet her, her round face alight. ‘I told the others you’d come,’ her friend said as she reached her. ‘Clara said you’d chicken out but I said you wouldn’t. An’ me da’s given me six pennies. Here—’ She thrust three into Molly’s scratched and bloodied fingers. ‘We’re gonna have a grand time, lass. You wait and see.’
Chapter Two
Molly stared in silent awe at the scene in front of her. Naphtha lamps spluttered and flared, and candles flickered wildly on the fronts of the larger amusements – the swing boats, merry-go-round with its gaily painted horses, shooting galleries, hoopla and boxing rink among others – and smaller lights glimmered along the stalls selling toys and sweets and ornaments. Booths were illuminated with thousands of tiny glittering lamps, sapphire and amber, emerald and ruby, arranged in the form of crowns, stars and feathers. It all made for a rich kaleidoscopic array of changing colours that threw their glamour over the men, women and children milling about. Pleasure-seekers from the villages and hamlets for miles around had come to the Michaelmas Fair, and the noise from the crowd along with the thudding steam organs was deafening to ears normally tuned to the quiet of the countryside.
‘Grand, isn’t it,’ said Fanny, as proud as if she had orchestrated the whole event herself. ‘I told you, didn’t I? Come on, we’ll walk round for a bit and see everything first.’ She thrust her arm through Molly’s and they set off with the other girls trailing behind them.
They hadn’t gone far when they came across Mrs Howard and another woman from the hamlet, both of whom stared at Molly in surprise. ‘Is your mam here, Molly?’ Sarah Howard glanced around. She was aware of the way Molly was treated by her parents – Fanny was often very vocal about the matter – and she was amazed they’d allowed her out for the evening.
It was Fanny who said, ‘Her mam an’ da don’t know she’s here. Don’t let on, will you?’
Sarah looked at the child she always thought of as ‘that poor bairn’. Molly was as pretty as a picture with her sandy gold hair and great big blue eyes, but her little face was always so sad, and no wonder with Josiah McKenzie as her father. ‘Me lips are sealed, hinny,’ she said with a smile. ‘An’ I’ll make sure the word’s out for no one else to say owt either, all right? Now off you go and enjoy yourselves. It’ll be a while before the fair’s here again.’
The two girls walked on together – the others had disappeared off somewhere while they had been talking to Fanny’s mother – and Molly drank in the sights and sounds and smells of the fairground. The odour of burning coal mixed with hot oil and steam, along with the delicious smells of baked potatoes and roasted chestnuts, was heady, and she felt as though she had stepped into an enchanted world. Everyone was happy and smiling, the cares of the day forgotten. It was wonderful, magical.
After buying a cone of gingerbread each, they wandered to the back of the fair where the quaint ornate living wagons stood. Horses were grazing and there were several dogs tied to the wagons. They didn’t venture too close – it was darker here and the horses were huge brutes – but as Molly gazed at the little houses on wheels she found herself wishing that she was a child of the fair folk. Travelling from place to place and not working in the fields from dawn to dusk must be lovely, she thought wistfully, and to live in one of the beautifully painted wagons would be heaven on earth after their dark, dingy cottage. Anywhere would be better than home, if it came to it.
The thought wasn’t a new one but in the next moment she brushed it aside; she wasn’t going to let anything spoil this evening, she told herself as they strolled back towards the lights and clamour. After a ride on the swing boats and then the merry-go-round, they bought a toffee apple each and sat eating them on the steps of one of the rides.
She had a ha’penny left and decided to spend it on the hoopla before she went home; it was getting late and she was growing increasingly worried about climbing back in the window now the first thrill of the fair had lessened.
She and Fanny paid their ha’pennies and received three rings apiece, and on her third throw she was beside herself with excitement when the hoop landed over a little cloth doll clad in a gingham dress and tiny pinafore. Her delight was so transparent that the elderly stallholder grinned at her as he handed her the doll, saying his wife made most of the items and she’d be pleased to know one of her creations had given such pleasure.
Molly held the doll close to her thin chest as they walked away; she had never had a toy before and couldn’t believe her luck. She would have to hide it from her mam and da but that was all right; her da never climbed the ladder to the room above, and her mam hadn’t for the last few years since they were old enough to change the straw in their mattresses themselves and wash their thin blankets a couple of times a year in the stream. She would call the doll Daisy, she decided, and she could sleep with her each night. Already she loved her more than anything in the world.
After a few minutes she and Fanny joined Fanny’s mam, who had marshalled the rest of her brood together and was preparing to leave the fair. They walked home singing hymns they’d learned in Sunday school and laughing and talking, and although the night had turned decidedly nippy, no one noticed the cold. Molly was glowing with happiness, a blissful happiness she would have thought herself incapable of before this night. And then, when she was only a couple of hundred yards from the hamlet, her name thundered on the air, cutting through the jollity like a knife through warm butter.
‘Molly!’
She froze in fright. She had been completely unaware of Josiah coming up behind them – they all had been – but now as she turned to face her father she thought he looked like the Devil himself. He walked up to them, his face contorted with blazing anger, and as she shuddered and trembled, Sarah Howard, aiming to try and defuse things, said brightly, ‘Josiah, we didn’t see you there. Had a good time at Roach’s, have you?’
He didn’t answer her, his eyes emitting a black light as he kept them on Molly’s white face. ‘Where have you been?’
She couldn’t speak through the fear strangling her, and it was Sarah who said, ‘I took a few of the bairns to the fair, that’s all, just for a short while.’
When he turned his gaze upon Sarah, stout and solid as she was, she took a step backwards, her children moving with her. As she said afterwards to her husband, ‘It was Old Nick himself standing there, I swear it.’
Josiah’s gaze returned to his daughter and he took her arm, his fingers like steel as he gripped her and pulled her towards their cottage. Sarah shouted something after them but he ignored her, flinging open the door of the cottage with enough force to cause Ada to leap out of her chair with her hand to her chest. ‘Josiah, you scared me to death. Whatever’s—’ And then Ada’s voice stopped abruptly as she took in Molly at his side.
‘Did you know about this?’ Josiah flung his daughter across the room so she went sprawling and landed in a heap on the floor. ‘That damn Howard woman taking her to the fair?’
‘What?’ Ada didn’t have to protest; it was clear she was flabbergasted. ‘Of course not, I’d never have let her. She went to bed same as usual.’
‘Only she didn’t, did she?’ He cursed, a foul spate of words as he walked to the small cowering figure and pulled her up by the hair. ‘You dare to defy me, m’girl? Cut from the same cloth as your whoring sister but I’m damned if I’ll be made a monkey of again. What’s that?’ He wrenched the small cloth doll out of her hand. ‘Who gave you this? A lad? Answer me.’
‘I – I—’ Molly was shaking from head to foot, such terror gripping her that she could barely speak. ‘I won it.’
‘You won it? Don’t give me that. Where did you get the money to win anything? It’s a lad, isn’t it, and I daresay that Howard scum egged you on an’ all. What’s his name? One of the Woodrow boys or Hogarth’s eldest?’ He turned to Ada. ‘Bert Hogarth was telling me just the other day he’d caught his eldest lad with a lass – likely he was taking one at me on the quiet.’ He swung back to Molly. ‘Was it you? Were you the lass he was talking about?’
‘No, no, I swear it. Fa-Fanny gave me half her pennies.’
‘She’s too young to go with a lad,’ Ada began, only to snap her mouth shut as her husband glared at her.
‘They’re never too young if they’re made that way but it’s not happening twice.’ He ripped the head off the doll, tearing the rest of it to pieces and flinging the shreds into Molly’s face. Pulling the belt out of his trousers, he snarled, ‘Come here.’
Molly couldn’t move. She’d felt the back of his hand many times but he’d never taken the belt to her before. She stared at him, her face white and her eyes huge, tears running down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Da, I’m sorry,’ she gabbled. ‘I’ll never do it again—’ And then she screamed as he grabbed her.
‘No, you damn well won’t, I’ll make sure of that. I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget, m’girl.’
The first slash of the belt brought her screaming again, causing Josiah to swear and curse. He dragged her across the room as she struggled wildly, reaching for a piece of the old towelling they used to dry their hands, stuffing it in her mouth as a gag and tying the ends behind her head. Molly was demented with terror, attempting to lash out with her arms and legs, but her efforts were as futile as a baby sparrow’s in the jaws of a cat. He flung her to the floor, leaning over to bring the belt lashing down with all his strength over and over again.
Her screams muffled by the gag, Molly tried to crawl away but he followed her. After a minute or so she couldn’t do anything, such was the pain, but curl herself into a ball that jerked as the belt hit her small thin body.
That Josiah had lost control was clear to Ada, and but for her hanging on to his arm and shouting, ‘No more, no more, she’s had enough and you’ll go down the line if she dies,’ he would have killed her.
As it was, his wife’s frantic voice got through to him, and his arm falling to his side he stood panting, before turning to Ada and growling, ‘How did she go without you knowing, anyway?’
‘I put me feet up after dinner and had a nap. She must have crept down then. I thought she was still in bed. I got the shock of my life when I saw her with you just now.’
‘That damn Howard woman was in on it, encouraging her to defy me. I’ll see me day with her and her brood, you see if I don’t.’
‘I know, I know.’ Aiming to placate him, Ada said, ‘Come on, lad, you’re done in and no wonder. Come an’ sit down.’
‘If I hadn’t come back early because of that tooth that’s been giving me gyp for days I might not have seen her. How many other times has she skedaddled without us knowing? I’ll find out and when I do—’
‘All right, but not now. I’ll get her upstairs and you sit and take the weight off, lad. There’s a drop of oil of cloves in the cupboard for that tooth, I’ll get it in a minute.’
Molly could hear the sound of voices above her head but she couldn’t distinguish what they were saying beyond the agony slicing through her. It made her nauseous, and when her mother tried to move her she vomited over the floor.
‘Filthy little slut.’ Josiah plumped down in one of the armchairs. ‘Get her to clean that up.’
Ada made no comment. She could see Molly was in a bad way. All she wanted to do was to get her daughter out of Josiah’s sight. Her voice low and harsh, she muttered, ‘Get to bed, you hear me?’ but she had to lift the child to her feet and then support her when Molly practically fainted away. Manhandling the slight form to the ladder, she managed to heave her up into the room above, although they both nearly plummeted to the ground a few times.
Once in the dark room she shoved her daughter onto the pallet bed. ‘You’ve brought this on yourself. You know that, don’t you? You must have known what he’d be like if he caught you. What on earth possessed you, girl? Was it the Howards like he said? Did they persuade you?’
Molly couldn’t speak. She felt as though she was dying and she would welcome death if it stopped the pain.
Ada stood for a few moments more. She could barely make out Molly’s shape on the pallet bed but she could hear her ragged breathing. It invoked no pity, merely rage that Molly had caused such trouble and upset Josiah.
Provoking him like that, she thought angrily. It always brought out Josiah’s worst side if his authority was challenged, everyone knew that. She’d have a word with Sarah Howard tomorrow and give her a piece of her mind.
