sixteen WINNY

Winny pulled her scarf as high as she could, her teeth chattering against the wind. In the school, the stove would be burning, and Miss Burton would have the students pull their desks closer to it to keep warm. Winny could have been there as well, but today she was not going to school. She was going to see Mary. After what David had told her the night before, Winny couldn’t wait another day. Heart pounding, she’d headed out for school as usual that morning, but as soon as she knew Mistress Adams wasn’t watching, she turned the opposite direction and ran as fast as she could. Now she only hoped she would remember the way to the Renfrews’ and be able to find it through the blizzard. If all went well, she’d be home at the usual time, and Mistress Adams need never know she’d gone.

With the wind and the added burden of a fresh blanket of snow from the night before, Winny’s walk to the Renfrews’ took almost three hours, and by the time she arrived at the farm, she felt frozen to the bone. But she couldn’t stop now. She’d come all that way for a purpose, and she moved swiftly toward the hut in the woods where Mary had said she lived.

“Mary,” she said, knocking on the door. “Are you in there?”

When there was no reply, she gripped the door handle and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. A ripple of concern shivered through her, and she circled the building, searching for a window. There was none. She returned to the door and pounded on it this time, glancing nervously over her shoulder at the farmhouse, fearing Mistress or Master Renfrew might hear her.

“Mary, if you’re in there, open the door. It’s me, Winny.”

The wind was the only response.

Where was she? Winny’s mind painted the most awful pictures—what if Master Renfrew had beaten her badly enough that she’d had to go to the hospital? Could they have sent her back to Barnardo’s? Or to another farm? That would be good for Mary, but how would Winny ever find her?

There was only one way to find out the truth. Holding tight to what courage she had, Winny bowed her head against the cutting wind and made her way back up the hill, to the main house. At her knock, Mistress Renfrew opened the door, a puzzled look on her face. Behind her the house glowed a warm gold, and Winny smelled what she thought was beef soup.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mistress,” Winny said, pulling her scarf down.

“Why, you’re my sister’s Home Girl! What are you doing here? Is everything all right with Florence?”

Winny blinked, then realized that was her mistress’s name. “Yes, she’s fine. I’m… I’m looking for your Home Girl, Mary.”

“Does my sister know where you are?”

“No. It’s only, I need to see Mary—”

Mistress Renfrew narrowed her eyes. “She’ll be gone for a while now.”

“For a while? When is she coming back?”

“In the spring.”

Winny felt as if she’d been slapped. “The… the spring, Mistress? I don’t understand. Why?”

“I should have known,” Mistress Renfrew said, folding her arms. “I never should have said yes to this scheme all over again. Boys are one thing. At least they’re useful. But letting a cheap piece of garbage like that into my farm—”

“What happened?” Winny cried. “Where is she?”

The woman leaned forward, her round, judging face so close to Winny’s she could feel her hot breath. “Listen, girl. Your friend is a whore. Just like all your mothers. Got herself pregnant with one of those Home Boys, and I won’t have that.”

Pregnant. The news hit Winny like a kick to the stomach, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

“That can’t be true,” she stammered. Mary hadn’t mentioned any Home Boys when she’d seen her before, and as far as Winny knew she’d never been interested in anyone but Edward.

“It’s not me who’s a liar,” Mistress Renfrew replied. “Now get out of here before my sister starts wondering where her own little slut has run off to.”

And with that, she stepped back into her warm house and slammed the door, leaving Winny open-mouthed in the cold.

All the way back to the Adams farm, Mary’s words rang in Winny’s ears. He comes after me something bad. No Home Boy had done this, Winny was convinced. It was Master Renfrew. She knew it to the bottom of her soul. David had warned her about him, saying how he liked pretty women, saying he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Winny already knew he had beaten Mary, and now she was certain he had done more.

At her first sight of the Adams house, Winny broke into a run and didn’t stop until she reached the sheep barn, where she collapsed in the straw, sobbing. Where was Mary now? In a strange place, alone and pregnant with her master’s child? Winny had never felt so helpless in her life.

“Winny? Is that you?” David asked, coming into the barn. “You’re home early.”

Winny turned to face him, hot tears rolling down her face.

He was instantly at her side. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Mary,” she said. “She… She—”

She couldn’t force the words past the swelling in her throat. He knelt and wrapped his arms around her, and though his coat was covered in ice, she buried herself in it. When she could breathe again, she pulled away and wiped her face with shaking hands.

“After you said you’d heard Mistress Renfrew talking about Mary, I went to see her instead of going to school. I had to. But she wouldn’t come to the door, so I went to the house, and… and she’s … she’s gone! Mistress Renfrew says she’s…” Her breath caught. “She says she’s gone to have a baby.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Winny.”

“I knew something was wrong when I saw her, but I… I never thought she might be pregnant, and now they’ve sent her away, and she’s on her own somewhere, and I can’t get to her—”

“Anywhere away from that farm is the best place for her,” David assured her. “No one can hurt her now.”

“But if only I’d known! Maybe I could have—”

“You couldn’t have done anything, Winny. You couldn’t have stopped it. Master Renfrew always gets his way.”

“Mary told me he wouldn’t leave her alone.”

“What’s going on here?” a terse voice demanded from the doorway.

At the sight of Mistress Adams, Winny and David shifted farther apart from each other. Winny held her breath as she strode toward them.

“You’re supposed to be in school, not out here, luring the Home Boy.” Her eyes burned. “I let you go to school. I feed you. I gave you boots. And now I find you hiding out here doing absolutely nothing.” She took a step closer and glared pointedly at David. “Or perhaps worse than nothing.”

“It’s not what you think, Mistress,” David said, his voice solid.

“How dare you talk back—”

“It’s about your sister.”

“What about her?”

“Tell her, Winny.”

Winny didn’t know where to start. Just looking at Mistress Adams had her trembling, and she worried at a hangnail, drawing blood. “My friend Mary works for your sister. She’s her Home Girl.”

A wave of disgust crossed Mistress Adams’s face. “Yes, I know about her. She’s got herself into some trouble, hasn’t she? What has this got to do with Doreen?”

From her expression, her mistress obviously considered Mary to be a whore too. Of course she would. She’d have heard the whole story from her sister already. How could Winny convince her?

“Spit it out, girl. I don’t have all day.”

Mary’s face appeared in her mind, and Winny suddenly knew the only way she could help her was to speak the truth. “It wasn’t a Home Boy that got her pregnant,” she said. “She wasn’t whoring around. It was Master Renfrew. He did it.”

Winny squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for a blow, but none came. When she looked again, her mistress was staring at her. Her face was very pale.

“I will insist that you not say anything about this incident to anyone else.”

What did that mean? Who would she tell? Besides, from what David had said, telling anyone wouldn’t make any difference. Master Renfrew would get away with it anyway.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Winny replied.

Without another word, Mistress Adams turned and walked back outside, into the blustery dusk. It wasn’t until later that evening that Winny realized her mistress hadn’t disagreed with what she had said.

The next morning, as Winny was doing her chores, she heard the truck start up, and she peered out of the barn in time to see Mistress Adams driving away. David stood outside the door, leaning on a shovel and watching the truck.

“Where’s she off to?” she asked.

“The Renfrews’,” he said, offering Winny a hopeful smile. “Maybe she listened to you.”