Low Moor, mid-December 1916
The cross she bears becomes heavier
Just as joy had been Ada’s companion as she’d stood on the platform a week ago, hopelessness was now. The prosecution had dropped the charge of murder and entered one of manslaughter. It didn’t matter how much Grayson Berry pleaded against it; the judge allowed a full acquittal of the charge of murder on the grounds of self-defence, and agreed to the lesser charge of manslaughter, saying that the defendant would know from his training that the technique used in the throw he subjected the victim to could result in serious injury or death. Aye, it was better than the one of murder, but as Grayson pointed out, it would be more likely to attract a ‘guilty’ charge, as the jury would feel they had somehow given a just verdict on the loss of a man’s life. Whereas with the murder charge, if they weren’t sure, they would have to bring a ‘not guilty’ verdict and Joe would have been free.
From her position, sitting stiffly on the wooden bench of the public gallery, Ada could see Joe. He stood facing the judge. A hush had descended. Joe’s face showed the strain of the last few months. New lines had appeared around his mouth and he’d lost weight. His cheekbones protruded, leaving hollow dents beneath them.
The first time she had been allowed into the courtroom to watch proceedings, after her own testimony had been heard and cross-examined, Joe had glanced up at her and had given her a reassuring wink. Grayson had told him off for doing so, as it had been seen by the jury and could be construed as saying, ‘We are getting away with it!’
This had horrified her, and wiped away all the pleasure the wink had given her. Now, as she remembered it, she thought, Oh, Joe. How I long to hold you.
The judge’s words droned on, but the only ones she heard were ‘detained at His Majesty’s pleasure for a total of five years’. In that moment she thought it was a long time to wait to hold him, but she would wait. No one else would take his place. She allowed a tear to plop onto her cheek, as she saw them take Joe down to the cells. The clanging of the chains around his ankles and wrists grated on her, making her want to scream at the injustice of it all, but she stayed still.
She didn’t know how long she was waiting there, but when a voice called her name she realized she was the only one left in the courtroom.
‘Ada. Ada!’
Looking down, she saw Grayson.
‘Come on, I have gained permission for you to speak to Joe, but you will have to hurry, as they don’t hang around. They’ll take him to Leeds Prison overnight, and then tomorrow to wherever his sentence is to be served.’
She was happy just to be close to Joe for a moment. ‘Oh, Joe, I’m sorry. I’ve brought all of this down on you.’
‘Eeh, lass, you haven’t. I should have taken Paddy’s blow and not attacked by way of defence, or retaliated. I have a lesson to learn. Not being able to go to war when all of me pals went was a big blow, and then the jibes of “coward” got me down. Sometimes the jibes came with violence and so, despite me bad heart, I trained in self-defence, and that gave me reactions that I didn’t think twice about using.’
‘Why didn’t Grayson use that in your defence? It would at least have given a reason for why you acted like you did. As it was, the jury were left thinking you were defending yourself and did so in an angry way, and with hatred, against the husband of the woman you love.’
‘I know. I just didn’t want to use it as an excuse. Paddy is dead because of what I did. What if I killed someone else who thought of me as a coward? No. I’ll be safer in prison until this war is over.’
This made her cross, but she wasn’t about to show it. These moments were precious. ‘Joe, you’ve never held me. Not really held me.’
‘And I can’t now, with these irons on me. Oh, me little lass.’
‘But I can hold you, my darling.’ Reaching out to him, she held his head to her breast. ‘The memory of this embrace has to last us a long time, Joe. Always think of it, and I will remember the feel of it and be waiting for you. The first thing I’ll do when you come out to me will be to hold you. Keep thinking of that, Joe, and we will get through this.’
Her words belied how she felt. She wanted to scream and scream, but his bravery stopped her. He was prepared to take his punishment – a punishment that extended to her, as the next five years would be a living hell for her. But she would follow his example and face it with courage. She would be as courageous as he was.
On the train home Ada read everything she could see on the newspaper that her fellow passenger opposite her was reading. It kept her mind occupied. Each time he turned the page and folded it back over the others, she would see headlines like ‘Lloyd George to Form a Coalition’, or others to do with the war’s progress. Another read: ‘Woman Burned to Death in House Fire’. There was no good news in the newspaper – nothing to hold on to. But then one headline hit her and shook her body: ‘Miss Edith Mellor Still Missing’.
Looking out of the window, Ada tried to imagine what it would be like to be kidnapped by a murderer. Rene had told her the story of Edith one night as they had sat together talking. Ever since, Ada had remembered Edith in her prayers, and had even asked her lads to do what they could by asking some of those saints that they must know by now to help this courageous female doctor.
Edith was a heroine. Rene had said that this is what all the papers had called her, and had outlined Edith’s work in a hospital on the front line of the Somme. They had written about how much her colleagues had loved her, and thought her the bravest person. This courage would bring her through, wouldn’t it? God, she hoped so.
When she turned back to the newspaper, shock trembled through her. There, in large letters, was the headline ‘Cowards Shot at Dawn Should Be Named and Shamed!’
Something about this headline had her recoiling into her seat, yet unable to take her eyes off the article. For some reason it triggered the memory of the letter that had come about Jimmy’s death, and made her question why the death-penny had never arrived. Nor his last letter – a letter each soldier wrote before they went into battle. A letter that was sent to their family, if they were killed. Why hadn’t any of his personal belongings arrived, either?
Her blood ran cold. Her thoughts gathered pace. Not me Jimmy. Please God don’t let that be what happened to me Jimmy!
As this thought died, she remembered that young Harold Smithward had returned home injured. She hadn’t known him as well as she’d known Eric and Arthur, as he lived a few streets away, but she had known that he was one of the pals who left at the same time as Jimmy. She would stay on this train, instead of getting off at the first stop near Rene’s, and travel to Low Moor and visit him. Maybe Harold knew how Jimmy had died.
Her thoughts went back to Edith and to her courage. Well, the same applies to you, Edith, as does to Joe. I will bind what courage I have to yours, as well as to his, and even though I have never met you, Edith, I know doing so will help me. Aye, and I’ll pray every night for your safe return, lass.
Letting out a deep sigh, Ada hoped and prayed that, whatever she learned from Harold about Jimmy’s death, she’d find strength in the binding of her own courage to Edith’s and Joe’s, and that doing so would help her to bear all she had to face.
The trudge up the hill to where she remembered Harold and his mother lived tired her. But Ada’s determination didn’t waver. She had to know the truth.
It shocked her to see the big lad that Harold had been reduced to a gangly, gaunt-looking young man with one arm. She’d not known about the injury he’d sustained. After greeting him, she asked outright, ‘Tell me the truth, Harold. What happened to me lad? Was he shot for cowardice?’
A look of astonishment and shock crossed Harold’s face, but then he stood tall and said, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs O’Flynn. I would never have said owt, if you hadn’t asked. And I’ve told no one, but aye, Jimmy was shot for cowardice. Oh, he weren’t a coward. There was no one braver, but it looked bad, him shooting his hand off.’
‘What! Oh God!’ The impact of this last knocked her sideways. Her Jimmy shooting his own hand off – why?
A small woman appeared at the door and stood next to Harold. Ada assumed it was Mrs Smithward, Harold’s mother. ‘Here, Missus, I don’t know you well, but I know of you, and you’re welcome to me home. Come on in and sit down. I’ll make you a brew.’
Harold helped Ada into the small parlour with the one arm he had left, and she was grateful for this. It was an airy room, with its scant furniture lovingly cared for, yet it felt welcoming, which she was grateful for. Sitting in the stiff-backed fireside chair, Ada found that she couldn’t speak for a moment. Then the door to the side that led to the backyard opened, and Ada was shocked to see young Betsy standing there.
‘Hello, Mrs O’Flynn. I – I’ve missed you since you moved.’
‘Eeh, lass. I’m sorry. I had such a lot to deal with and – well, no time left on me hands, with the work at the factory and everything. Are you alreet, lass?’
‘Aye, I am. I’ve been helping Harold. After you left, he was me only link to Jimmy. We’ve been a sort of prop to each other.’
Harold smiled across at Betsy. It was clear that he saw her as more than just someone who was helping him.
‘I’m glad, Betsy, love. We all need a distraction, and I wasn’t there for thee. I hope you can forgive that.’
‘There’s nowt to forgive. I understood. Me and Harold, we ain’t . . . I mean, I still have Jimmy in me heart.’
‘I know you do. But, lass, you have a life to live, and I reckon as Jimmy would be reet pleased to know you’re helping the one pal as returned. Aye, and if owt comes of it, then the pair of thee would have his blessing, as you have mine.’
‘Ta, Mrs O’Flynn.’ This time Betsy grinned at Harold, and Ada knew that Betsy was going to be all right. She’d found happiness, and it was no more than she deserved.
A cough brought Ada’s attention back to Harold. When she looked at him, he asked, ‘Shall I tell you it all?’
Aye, please. Tell me everything you know about what happened to me Jimmy. God, it beggars belief that me own countrymen could kill me son.’ A sob escaped her, but she swallowed it down.
Listening to the horrific story gave her heartache beyond endurance. No wonder she had felt an affinity with the kidnapped lady, Edith Mellor. Edith’s kidnapper was a man thought of as a murderer, but she had now learned that he had tried to save her Jimmy.
Though it was difficult, Ada managed to keep calm whilst Harold spoke. She felt nothing for the murdered officer – he had got his just deserts; but the priest and the medic? Their deaths horrified her and made her think twice about admiring Albert Price. But more was to come, and as Harold came to the end of his recollections and spoke about how the lads of the firing squad were all injured and had come home, she let loose a wail that she’d been keeping inside her for a good while.
‘Eeh, love, I know how you must feel, but give over, or you’ll be ill. Hang on to what Harold told you. No one thought Jimmy guilty, and the corporal and the lads tried to save him. God knows where that corporal is, or the poor lass he took off with him, but he is a hero, despite him murdering them as he shouldn’t have. Our Harold says so, and he never lies. Here, sup your tea whilst it’s hot; it will help.’
Ada let go of the hand that held hers, a hand that she hadn’t even realized had taken hold of her. But, as she took the mug, the same hand came around her. Betsy, dear Betsy. She was a young lass with a heart of gold, who knew the suffering Ada was going through.
The mug burnt her fingers, but Ada didn’t care, for the pain lessened the one searing her heart, as it took her attention. Taking a sup gave her some relief and helped her to control herself. Answering Harold’s mam, she said, ‘You’re reet, only what that corporal did wasn’t the reet thing to do. That young lady’s family must be out of their mind with worry. I’m assuming you are Harold’s mam, so you know what it must be like for the mother of Edith Mellor – the lady doctor he kidnapped.’
‘Did you know the lass that was kidnapped?’
‘No, but I know of her. Me friend is a friend of the family.’
‘By, lass, fancy you having friends in them circles.’
‘I met her in hospital – she’s a nurse. All of them posh lot are trying to help the war effort, and this is what me friend is doing. She trained at Leeds Hospital and will soon go to France.’
‘Well, lass, I’m glad for you. You’ll need some friends to help you. And if them friends are in high places, all the better. I must say, I had wondered how it was you had come to be living in Leeds. Oh, aye, I’ve heard your tale. But, mind, it isn’t spoken of as a scandal. All the folk round here understand, after all that’s happened to you. That sister of yours . . .’
‘Look, it’s good to hear me name has not been blackened. But me sister’s needn’t be, either. A lot happened that led her to do as she did, and now she’s paying for it.’
‘Aye, we never know what drives folk to do bad stuff, but often it is sommat as they can’t help. I’m sorry, lass, real sorry for you. I was told as you were a strong one, and I’m glad that is so, as above all you need strength to cope with everything, and to find forgiveness – and not bitterness – for them as wronged you.’
‘You’re nice, Mrs Smithward.’
‘Grace. Me name’s Grace. And I like you an’ all, lass. I admire you. And if ever I can do owt for you, you only have to ask. You have me address.’
Ada left after receiving a hug from Grace and a real cuddle from Betsy, and she could feel a little happiness seeping through her pain. Looking into Betsy’s face and seeing hope there, not despair, helped that to happen, as did seeing Harold and Grace put their arms around Betsy as she wiped away a tear. Eeh, it is good to know that lass is alreet. In me grief, and in all that has happened, I have neglected her. But Ada knew that Betsy understood. And, though it was early days, she could see that Betsy was loved and would have a happy future.
As she’d travelled back on the train to Rene’s, Ada had come to a decision about her future. When she’d arrived back at Rene’s house, Annie had greeted her. ‘Oh, Ada, you look all in. Come on, me sunshine, tell me all about it.’
‘I can’t. Not yet, Annie,’ she’d told her. ‘How’s me little Brendan? Has he been good?’
‘Not altogether, but it ain’t ’is fault. ‘E ’ad colic, bless ’im, but I’ve settled ’im now.’
After looking in on the sleeping child and feeling the love she had for him, Ada had taken a bath, telling Annie that she needed time on her own. When Rene came in, she would tell them both what had happened.
Rene sat listening quietly, as did Annie, as Ada told them she’d decided that she wouldn’t take the job offered by Lady Eloise, but would instead move to London to be near Wandsworth Prison, where they had told her Joe was being taken, so that she could visit him.
‘I’ll look into starting me business up somewhere near there.’
‘What has changed your mind, Ada, dear? You said you would stay here, no matter what happened to Joe.’
‘I need to get away. I can’t bear all the reminders. Not now. And there will be those that point their fingers . . . Not just because of what Joe did, but because of me Jimmy.’
Rene broke the silence, ‘Oh, my dear, my dear.’ She rose and came to her, but Ada warded her off.
‘I can’t – not yet. I’m trying to keep me emotions contained so that I can function. Your sympathy will undo me. I know you care about me, Rene, but I need your help, not your sympathy.’
‘I understand, but know that I am here for you. And if this breaks you, I will help you to pick up the pieces.’
‘Thank you, Rene. I know that. And I know as Lady Eloise will be able to help me as well. I have someone to suggest who might be able to take on the position she was offering me. Harold, the lad as I’ve just been speaking of. He’s a good, kind lad. It will be hard for him to get a job, with only having the one arm, and coordinating the charity would be reet up his street.’
‘That sounds like a good idea. I will put it to Lady Eloise. And yes, you are right, she will help you all she can.’
‘And I will too, love,’ Annie said. ‘I live in a ’ouse not far from Shepherd’s Bush. Being in semi-retirement, I’m only called on now and again, when Miss Rene needs me. Though she pays me a retainer, bless ’er. Me granddad left me the ’ouse. It was given to ’im by ’is employer on ’is retirement, for years of good service. It ain’t far from Wandsworth – about five miles away, I reckon. You’re welcome to live there with me. And I could maybe ’elp yer by taking care of Brendan. Yer see, me and Miss Rene ’ave already spoken about what will ’appen when she goes to France. I’ve said that I don’t want to work for the family until she returns, but if she needs me then, I will take up me position again.’
‘Oh, Annie, ta. It’ll be grand to be with you, as I’d be lost in the big city.’
They chatted on about how the living arrangements would work, and whether Annie thought the area was a good one for a dressmaking shop.
It was Rene, who had sat quietly by listening to their plans, who answered this one. ‘Well, it is on Lady Eloise’s doorstep, Ada. I’m sure she will help you by sending clients your way, and with setting up the business. You will need a lot of money, so please don’t refuse her help. This is what she set the charity up for: to help war victims.’
‘But I don’t consider meself to be a victim.’
‘Well, you are. And if it doesn’t sit right with you to take the charity money for your purposes, then look on it as a loan and pay it back. I’m sure Lady Eloise would agree to that.’
‘Well, put like that, yes, I will see how she can help me.’
A short silence fell. Once more Rene was the one to break it. ‘I have news, too. I’m going into special training very soon, and that won’t last long. They are desperate for nurses at the front, so I will soon be heading to France.’
‘Oh, naw!’ Ada looked over at Annie. Annie hadn’t spoken much, but now a little sob escaped her.
Rene put her arm around her. ‘Annie, dear, it will be all right. You have your plans, and now you will have Ada and Brendan to take care of, so you will be fine. We knew this was coming.’
‘Knowing it’s coming is one thing; you actually going is another. I’m scared.’
‘I know, Annie, and I can’t say that I’m not. But I’m excited as well. I go next week, so you will be hectic, closing this place down and supervising the removal of my things back to my home. You will have no time to think about it all.’
Again there was silence. Ada thought she’d heard all she wanted to hear about France, and didn’t want to admit that this was the place the lovely Rene was going to. She would think of her as being on holiday – that way she could cope.
Rene interrupted this thought. ‘Ada, dear, I don’t know if this will be of any consolation to you, but I think the information you’ve heard from Harold will greatly help Edith’s family. I will contact them. To think that the man who took their daughter is a kind person at heart, who cared for his men, will give them hope that he won’t hurt Edith. They have been given very little information, and what they know suggests that the man suffered a breakdown and was in a poor mental state. This didn’t give them a good feeling, or anything to hold on to. Now they will have something. They will know that his actions weren’t those of a demented man out of control, but of a man acting in a manner to save the life of an innocent boy. Oh, Ada. Ada, my dear . . .’
This time Ada did allow Rene to hold her. As she cried, her world didn’t seem such a lonely place. She had Rene, and she had Annie. Who could feel alone with such wonderful folk to care for them?
And she had Joe, too.
Five years was a long time, but she would visit whenever she was allowed to, and she would throw herself into her work. She’d cling on to the courage she knew Edith had, and let that help her. She’d get by. She had to.