What? How? Why? With parted lips Harriet silently mouthed the words but couldn’t say them, yet comprehension and understanding filtered through her astonishment at the revelation. It explained so clearly why there was so much discord in this family, explained, too, why Mrs Tuke showed no motherly feeling towards Noah.
‘Mr Tuke?’ she croaked. ‘Is he Noah’s father?’
‘Oh aye,’ Ellen muttered. ‘Can’t you tell?’
Was she not able to carry another child? Harriet dared not ask. But poor Noah. She felt some sympathy for him now – did he know that Ellen Tuke wasn’t his mother?
‘He’s a chip off ’old block all right,’ Ellen went on, her voice tight and bitter. ‘Mr Tuke made sure o’ that. He said I spoiled Fletcher and he wasn’t going to let this son grow up to be a spineless namby-pamby. He wouldn’t let me teach him anything and that’s why – that’s why he’s ’way he is.’
‘So …’ I have to ask, Harriet thought; I’m carrying Noah’s child. ‘So – who is Noah’s mother? Does she see him? Does he know about her?’
‘No!’ Ellen Tuke spat out. ‘He knows nowt. Neither of ’lads do. They don’t know that Mr Tuke turned up with him one night, thrust him at me and said, “Here! Here’s another son for you.”’ She turned her face away from Harriet’s gaze, towards the fire. ‘I was feeding Fletcher and he grabbed him and put Noah in his place. He was about three or four months old and wouldn’t stop crying, and then Fletcher started crying as well because he didn’t understand why he’d been pulled away from me.’
Harriet couldn’t speak, her thoughts were in such turmoil, but Ellen went on in an intense, simmering voice, ‘He said I hadn’t to tell Noah he wasn’t mine and that I was to treat him as if he was, and if I didn’t – if I didn’t, well, he threatened me with all kinds of things, like throwing me out of ’house and – and spreading rumours about me. And I was afraid of what he might do.’
What a dreadful man, Harriet thought. How could she bear to live with him? But she must have cared for him once. What made him change?
‘Could you not conceive again?’ she asked gently. ‘After Fletcher?’
Ellen turned to her and her mouth formed a question. ‘What?’ She moistened her lips. ‘Oh. Erm – no. Fletcher was – over a year old and – and nothing was – no. You might as well know,’ she muttered, ‘that Mr Tuke was allus hanging round me when I worked at ’manor, an’ then, well, he seduced me and got me pregnant; that’s why we married. I had to, you see, or I’d have been outcast. And then – and then Mr Tuke started going out of a night and I found out that he’d been to ’brothel, and after that I wouldn’t have owt to do wi’ him. Well, how could I? When he’d been with those women!’
‘Noah’s mother? She was one of ’women from ’brothel?’
Ellen’s eyes looked everywhere but at Harriet. ‘He wanted to show me that he was virile and manly and could produce a son – another son – and I was not able to.’ She screwed up her mouth into a sneer. ‘But I didn’t want to. I had a son already. Why would I want another one?’
Harriet was bewildered. Surely having had one son she would have wanted another, or a daughter even? I’d like daughters; you can talk to daughters. And it’s odd that Fletcher isn’t spoiled rotten if she always made a fuss of him and not Noah. There’s no wonder there’s so much conflict between them, and yet neither of them know ’reason why. And this is why Ellen’s so upset over Fletcher leaving home. She’s stuck here with an adopted son she doesn’t care for and a husband whom she apparently loathes.
And then I came on ’scene and upset ’apple cart even more. Now she has a stranger, a so-called daughter-in-law, living with her who is about to produce a child who is no relation to her.
Harriet heaved a breath. What a mess. What a hornets’ nest they’d all found themselves in.
Harriet tried to be nice to Noah, to be kind to him since Ellen never was or ever had been. But at every friendly word he scowled, or viewed her with suspicion, and on several occasions he asked, ‘What’s going on? What ’you up to?’ when she attempted some pleasantry.
He was still going out at weekends and not arriving back until after midnight, until one day at the beginning of December she asked him if he would stay at home in future.
‘Why?’ he asked brusquely. ‘There’s no pleasure here.’
She’d gone outside especially to see him; he was mending a fence and hammering a nail into one of the uprights with great ferocity. ‘Because,’ she said, ‘I think that babby will be here soon, and you’ll need to fetch Mary.’
He stood and stared at her, tapping the hammer into the palm of his hand. ‘Tekken its time, hasn’t it?’
She shrugged and gave a little smile. ‘They come when they’re ready. You’ll need ’trap for Mary,’ she reminded him.
‘Aye, I know that.’
Harriet huddled into her shawl. It was very cold; a wind was blowing off the estuary, just as it had been when she’d first arrived here. She could barely believe that it was a year since that night.
‘Are you pleased?’ she asked.
‘’Bout what?’
‘The child!’
‘Depends,’ he grunted. ‘Shan’t be if it’s a lass.’
‘Oh, come now, a little girl to spoil?’ She was very anxious about the outcome of the pregnancy.
‘There’ll be no spoiling here,’ he said gruffly. ‘Whether it’s a lad or a lass. Fletcher was allus Ma’s favourite; she never had a good word to say to me.’
‘Any bairns we have will be treated ’same; no favouritism.’ She smiled as she spoke, aiming to assure him that this child wouldn’t be the only one, even though he was the last person on earth that she wanted in her bed. She dreaded it. A union without love or caring.
‘We’ll see,’ he said, turning away. ‘If it’s a lass you can do what you want wi’ her. If it’s a lad I’ll decide how he’s treated.’
The words filled her with dismay. Her instinct would be to protect the child be it girl or boy.
‘Now, get yourself inside,’ he ordered. ‘And tell Ma she’s to do all of ’milking now and you’re not to carry any buckets o’ feed or milk pails until after you’re delivered.’
Harriet walked slowly back to the house. It’s what I’ve allus thought: I’m just one of ’farm animals, a ewe or a heifer or a mare. Just like ’other animals, I’ve to be tekken care of until such time as a lamb or a calf or a colt is delivered, and in my case a male child.
Her instincts proved to be in good working order, for it was only a few days after asking Noah to stay at home and not go out at night that she began in labour. It was early morning and she continued with tasks about the house; in the afternoon she asked Mrs Tuke if she had some old sheets that she could put on her bed. Ellen gave her a swift glance but didn’t comment, and rummaged in a wooden trunk until she found a pair. She also fetched a bar of soap, a large earthenware bowl and a towel and took them upstairs to Harriet’s room.
‘I’ll keep ’kettle on ’boil,’ she muttered. ‘Do you want him to fetch Mary?’
‘I don’t know,’ Harriet said hesitantly. ‘Yes – I think so. Before it gets dark. I’ll give him a shout.’
She opened the back door and found Mr Tuke looking about him, whistling tunelessly.
‘Mr Tuke,’ she said. ‘Do you know where Noah is?’
He turned and looked her up and down. ‘Yeh. He’s in ’barn. What ’you want him for?’
‘I need him to fetch Mary,’ she said.
‘Is it your time?’ He continued to scrutinize her.
‘Yes.’
He grinned and she noticed he had lost another tooth. ‘I’m going to be a granfer then?’
Harriet gave a low laugh. At least he seemed to be pleased, unlike his wife. ‘Yes, I hope so. So can you fetch him, please? Ask him to go now.’
He nodded and ambled across the yard, and she called after him, ‘And tell him to hurry!’ He quickened his step and broke into a trot and she mused that she had never seen him so agile.
She didn’t think it was urgent, but how could she know? She wasn’t in a great deal of pain: an ache in her lower back, a heaviness in her limbs, a feeling of breathlessness and she was sweating slightly, but apart from that she felt calm and as ready as she could be to face the challenge of bringing a new being into the world. And the greatest feeling of all was happiness, which was a sensation that had been missing from her life for quite some time.
Her thoughts drifted to Fletcher. She was pleased that he wasn’t here when she was giving birth to Noah’s child. He might have turned against her. His feelings for her might have changed if he’d seen her with his brother’s child; might still change when he heard about the birth, if he ever did. And he wouldn’t ever know that she cared for him more now that he was gone from her life than she had in the short time they had lived in the same house.
She stifled a sob as she went back indoors, but Ellen heard it. ‘Are you all right? Do you want a drink? Tea? Cool water?’
‘I’d love a drink, please. Water will do – if it’s fresh,’ she added, smiling a little, and Ellen gave her a nod as if she too recalled that first meeting.
Harriet took the cup of water that Ellen had poured from the kettle. It was lukewarm and comforting. ‘I think – I’ll go up,’ she murmured. ‘Will you listen out for Noah going, please? I asked Mr Tuke to tell him.’
Then they both heard the rattle of the cart as it went out of the yard, and Ellen commented, ‘He won’t tek long. It’s not that far an’ Mary will be ready. She’s very reliable.’
She doesn’t say how she knows that, Harriet mused. Not once has she mentioned that Mary attended her when she gave birth to Fletcher, nor how she cried at his birth. I won’t cry, she thought as she went up to her room. Fletcher’s room. Because I’m happy to be having a child. I wonder why Ellen wept as copiously as Mary said she did?
She undressed and slept in her shift for a little while, and woke up feeling decidedly uncomfortable. She got out of bed and reached for the chamber pot just in time. Her waters had broken. She rinsed her hands and face in the washbowl and thought that maybe it wouldn’t be long now. Walking up and down the small room and occasionally looking out of the window, she saw that the sun had almost set and the surface of the estuary, reflecting the dark sky, looked like a sheet of shining metal.
Someone knocked on her door and she opened it cautiously. It was Mary, her face red as if she had been standing over the washtub. ‘My word,’ she panted. ‘That husband o’ yourn was in a hurry to get me here. I told him that first bairns tek their time, but he wasn’t having it, and bundled me into ’cart afore I could get my breath. Just hope it’s a lad you’re carrying, cos that’s what he’s expecting.’
‘I hope so too,’ Harriet said. ‘I’d be happy with a girl, but …’
‘Aye, that’s men for you,’ Mary agreed. ‘They allus want a son and heir, even if there’s nowt for them to inherit.’
‘I’ve got – whoo.’ Harriet winced. ‘A bit o’ pain. Whoo.’ She huffed out a breath. ‘Yes, definitely summat’s happening, Mary. Hah!’
‘Get on to ’bed,’ Mary ordered, shoving a pillow under Harriet’s back, ‘and let’s see what’s going on. Oh, my word, this little mite’s in a hurry! Come on then, m’darlin’, one big push and – Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘Here ’babby comes and that’s as quick as I’ve ever known! And a boy just as ordered. Oh,’ she said again, ‘and he’s beautiful, and with – lovely black curly hair.’