Authors: Margaret Dickinson
‘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.
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.’
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 good 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.
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.’