A Flicker of Hope, but a Fear Embedded
A memory of the time a ragged muslin curtain blew in the wind and wrapped around her face came to Amy as she tried to drag herself out of the sleep that held her, but her fogged brain would not show her where that was, or whose curtain it was. It only set up a battle in her to claw the feeling away.
A commotion around her seeped through the haze, and someone wiped her forehead. A whispered voice came through: ‘She can’t last much longer. Her breathing is much laboured.’ Another answered, ‘’Tis rare for them to recover.’ At this, her body shivered as it rejected the wet, cold cloth they swabbed her body with.
The light above her struck her eyes in a painful way, but closing them didn’t help. She wanted to talk to the people around her, ask them to save her, but she couldn’t, so she prayed to Jesus’s mother to bring her through whatever ailed her. She’d often talked to the Virgin Mary since seeing a statue of her in a Catholic church she’d once visited. Always it was as if things got better afterwards, so maybe Mary did hear her prayers. Please let her hear me today.
With this thought, peace came into her and she imagined she saw the statue gliding towards her. ‘Eeh, little lady, you’re lovely.’ A light shone around the statue that didn’t hurt her eyes to look upon. A warmth filled Amy. She held her hands out towards the figure, but it went away from her and a voice came to her with the sweetest tinkle to it.
‘Not yet, little one. You have much to do.’
‘What? What have I got to do? I don’t understand.’
‘Make a difference.’
‘I can’t make a difference to owt.’
But the lady had gone and a voice of this world came to her, ‘We can all make a difference, lass. I don’t know who that was you were talking to, but whoever it was, by, they’ve worked some magic on you. How do you feel now, Iva?’
‘Me name’s not Iva.’
‘Naw, we know that, but that name has stuck to you since you came in here some four weeks back. Loopy Lil, as we call her, gave it to you. She thinks you’re her daughter. Poor Iva died in this very hospital about five years ago. Now then, who are you, love? Have you any family?’
‘I’m Amy. Amy Dovecote from over Pradley.’ As she told her tale, more of it came back to her, as did all the folk in her dream. With this last came fear – fear for Ruth and the lads – but also knowledge that her ma and da and little Elsie were all together and safe.
‘Eeh, lass, that’s a tale and half, and I’ve heard some. But yours is the worst ever. Well, sommat or someone is helping you, that’s for sure, as not ten minutes ago I wouldn’t have you down as being here now. I thought your last breath was on you.’
‘I – I sort of went – well, nearly, but the lady wouldn’t have me.’
‘Well, that’s funny talk. I’ll take it as you’re still a bit delirious, but don’t be talking like that when the doctor comes back, nor in front of Matron, as they’ll have you in the madhouse as soon as look at you. You’ve got pneumonia, but you’ve come through the crisis point, so should recover. Is there owt you want, me wee one?’
‘Only a drink, please. Who’s Lil? Does she work here?’
‘Huh, thinks she does, poor woman. But naw, she’s just another inmate of the workhouse, but she likes to hang around these wards. She tries to make herself useful, but now and again everything gets on top of her and she’s taken into the madhouse, as we call it. But she’s a handful in there, so they like to keep her this side and let her take care of some of the lasses brought in during the night. She sleeps most of the day. That’s where she’ll be now, though she took some persuading to leave your side.
The girl telling her all of this looked the same age as Ruth. Amy liked her. She had a way about her that said she’d always be truthful with you. She wanted to ask her what would happen to her when she was well.
‘Amy, love, your face holds the troubles of the world, but it stands need to, with your circumstances. Look, you’ll be a good few days getting fit, then if you’ve no place to go, the board’ll apply to the court to put you under the Poor Law – and that’ll be it. You’ll be in here till your circumstances change, which is a rare occurrence.’
‘Are you under the Poor Law, Miss?’
‘Aye, and me name’s Lettie. I were orphaned at the age of thirteen. I were the only surviving one of me family. The typhus took them all from me. A friend of me ma’s looked after me at first, but her husband took a shine to me when I reached fifteen and took his needs out of me. When I copped for a babby, I wasn’t welcome any longer. She called me a whore and wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell her as I fought him, but couldn’t stop him. I lost me babby and ended up in here. But I’m keeping meself useful and following all the rules, in the hope of being released to work in one of the mills one day and moving into one of them hostels.’
‘I hope you do. But I’m sorry to hear about what happened to you, Lettie. I know what it’s like . . . a man—’
‘Aye, I know. You were in a mess down below. Look, lass. If it results in a babby, I ain’t sure what will happen. I reckon as they’ll keep you in here till you have it, then take your babby for adoption.’
‘But he didn’t manage it, I kicked him.’
‘Lass, I reckon he must have done. You’re torn and bruised and . . . well, a lot of the bruising and blood was on your inner thighs. I’m sorry to tell you that, Amy, but you’ll get through it somehow. Just think on: you’re alive and that’s sommat, as you were left for dead.’
‘But I don’t want a babby. I don’t. I can’t. I – I don’t reckon as I’m up to taking much more.’
‘Don’t talk like that, lass. God only sends to us what he knows we can cope with. Though why he thinks us lasses can cope with all he sends us, I don’t know. Look, I like you. You’re a plucky lass. If I promise to be your friend and to look out for you, will you promise to try and put up with your lot and work towards a better future, like I am?’
Amy could think of nothing better than having Lettie as a friend. It’d be like having Ruth back. This thought didn’t sit well with her, as thinking of Ruth brought the tears flowing down her cheeks. Oh, Ruth, I want you back for real. I don’t want a substitute.
‘By, lass, you’ll have to grow a thicker skin. What’s happened has happened, and you can’t undo it.’ The cloth Lettie used to wipe her face had a coarse feel, but the gentleness of her touch was akin to love, and that brought some comfort to Amy, as did Lettie’s words: ‘It’s easy to give in. I cried meself to sleep for weeks, but then I gave meself a good talking-to and made me mind up to better meself. After that, me attitude towards everybody improved and they took me off spinning and weaving, and brought me in here to look after the sick. I get better rations and that’s built me strength.’ As she patted Amy’s face dry, Lettie stood back a moment and said, ‘Look, I need more help, so I’ll ask if you can work with me. They’ll listen to me, but only if you ain’t having a babby. If you are, they’ll put you to work in the kitchens or some such until you have it.’
‘How do they find out if you’re having a babby? Does it allus happen if a man does sommat to you?’
‘Naw, not allus. Were it an old man?’
‘Aye, he looked old. He were horrible and fat, and . . . Eeh, it makes me sick to think on it.’
‘Well then, don’t. Put it out of your head. Chances are he had no substance in him for making babbies, lass, so don’t worry. It’ll be to do with your bleeding that they find out. Have you started that yet?’
‘I have had a couple, but I were late starting. Our Ruth started when she were ten.’
‘Well, it makes no odds when you started. Fact is that . . .’
As she listened to Lettie explaining about how her bleeding meant she could now have babbies, Amy’s despair deepened. She just wanted to die, and she wished the little lady had let her. But then some of what Lettie had said made her think of Ruth. Ruth was strong, she coped with everything. And besides, Lettie had said she would help her. This thought brought comfort with it, and Amy knew she had to make the best of everything as it was and do as Lettie said, and work at making things better for herself.
A movement behind the bushes frightened Ruth. Leaning heavily on her crutch, she peered in the direction it had come from, hoping to see that a rabbit or a stray sheep had been the culprit. Her fear was such that her heart seemed to want to push itself out of her breast, in a painful way that got her holding her breath. What if that lad Josh has hired has gone against his wishes and come up to the farm?
When Josh had told her what he’d done, she hadn’t liked it. She knew the lad that everyone called Fin, and knew him to be one as was always out to make mischief. He’d many a time knocked her crutch from under her, and had never let her pass without calling her names: cripple, halfwit or witch. Shuddering against this last, she looked up towards Pendle Hill and the dread in her increased. The place had always been held as somewhere to fear, but she’d never seen it until she, her ma and the others had started out on their journey, and she had never thought in a million years that she’d end up living under its shadow.
Another rustle and the snapping sound of a twig froze her thoughts and all life around her, leaving her isolated. She tried to call out, but her dry throat wouldn’t respond and nothing other than a croak came from her. But although it wasn’t loud, it set the intruder running, for now she heard the tread of someone or something scampering away. It relaxed her to know that whoever or whatever it was had gone, and made her able to move once more. Hobbling back across to the chicken run, she scattered the hens’ food more quickly than she’d ever done before. The chorus of birds clucking their appreciation and squawking, as they flew out of her way, brought normal life back into focus. She’d been silly. It’d be an animal – nothing else.
Hurrying across the yard in a swaying movement that she knew made her look ridiculous, but helped to get her where she wanted to be faster than her normal gait did, Ruth reached Josh’s work-shed. She hesitated a moment, unsure whether to voice her fears, but the door creaked open and Josh appeared. The look in his eyes as he gazed at her stilled her thoughts. For a moment she couldn’t glance away or speak. In the intensity of his gaze she read a message that triggered something inside her – a feeling, a need. But then Josh spoke and his words broke the spell, though somehow she knew that what he said wasn’t what he truly wanted to say.
‘What is it, lass? I saw you crossing the yard as if the devil himself were after you. By, if I’d have known you could move that fast, I’d have doubled your workload! In fact I might have to consider it, now you have given yourself away.’
Embarrassment overcame Ruth and banished the last threads of the emotion that had gripped her. The thought of Josh seeing her move in a way that made her look like one of them gorillas in a flicker-book mortified her.
‘By, lass, you look pretty when you blush.’ Josh’s voice gravelled to a deep tone that she hadn’t heard before. The memory and embarrassment of Josh seeing her gait faded, and Ruth’s body flooded with the sensation that had taken her when his eyes had held hers. But that feeling was short-lived, as Josh turned from her and went back inside, banging the door shut behind him.
Ruth stood for a moment. Confusion gripped her. Part of her wanted to go to him, but fear of rejection held her back. Then a voice in her head said, ‘Do it, lass. You know you want to.’
The door opened without its usual creak. Not entering the room fully, Ruth peered into the shed. The sight of Josh’s dejected figure highlighted against the window stopped her progress. He was bowed forward, with his entwined hands clasping the back of his head.
‘Josh?’
For a moment she thought he’d stumble, with the speed at which his body swivelled round. ‘Eeh, lass.’
Something compelled them both forward and Ruth found herself in a place she’d been before, enclosed in Josh’s arms. But that last time had been for comfort; this time a feeling seized her that burned through her body, as Josh guided her towards the same row of straw bales that he’d sat her on the first time he brought her here.
‘Lass, I – I need to ask you something.’ That same gravelly sound that had lowered the tone of his voice was present as he spoke. His eyes held hers while he set her crutch against the wall and knelt in front of her. ‘Will you have me, Ruth? Will you become me wife?’ His eyes held deep love. Aye, and a promise that gripped her with feelings she could hardly cope with. But these emotions weren’t all that Ruth gleaned from Josh’s intent look, for harboured in their depth was a respect she’d never thought anyone would feel for her.
Warmth kindled inside her, in response to the love shown to her. All she found she could do was nod her head. As she did so, Josh’s face faded and the Earl’s deep, smouldering eyes stared back at her. Ruth closed her eyes against the image. No! Don’t. That can never be.
‘Ruth?’
Opening her eyes, she gazed once more into the kind, loving face of Josh and expelled the Earl from her imagination.
‘Did you nod, lass? Are you saying as you would have me?’
The moment was suspended. Then all doubts left her. ‘Aye, I would. I have a feeling for you, Josh.’
‘I have more than a feeling for you, Ruth. I love you, lass, and I will until me death.’
‘And I you, Josh.’ As she said the words, she knew them to be the truth. What she felt for Josh was a deep love – a love that she knew didn’t match what the Earl had kindled in her, but it didn’t have to. This love for Josh had its own strength and was born of all she knew him to be, not of a fantasy she could never hold.
‘Oh, me little lass.’
This time, when Josh held her, she felt a different emotion come from him – an animal-like hunger. His lips touched hers. His strong arms supported her as if they would do so forever and ever. The sensation that shivered through her shocked her, as did the intensity of her response, as desire burned deep within her. And yet the moment had a gentleness about it. A moment that was fleeting, as Josh’s hold on her tightened and he crushed her body to his. Her name on his lips sounded as if it were an instrument of pleasure. Her heart sang out a joyous acceptance. At last she felt beautiful, wanted and desired, and every fibre of her needed to give that same feeling to him.
Their second kiss was not his to her, or hers to him, but a seeking of each other as their tongues probed, tingling undeniable sensations through Ruth. She yielded to Josh, sinking into all that he offered.
Pulling away from her, he looked intently at her. His eyes asked a question. Not knowing how she knew what he meant, she nodded. His moan went into her neck, and his mouth sucked in her skin, as he gently swayed her backwards until she lay beneath him.
There was a moment of pain, but then her soul knew her very reason for being, as she allowed all that he had to give – his caresses, his kisses, his love – and, with the taking, an explosion of feelings conveyed her to a place she never wanted to leave.
Sobbing her joy, she clung to Josh, accepting him as he moaned his final pleasure and pressed into her as if he’d never leave her. ‘Oh, Josh. Josh . . .’
After a moment he released himself from her and rolled off her. Neither of them spoke, their lips joining in a kiss that left no need for words. Their sweat mingled. Clinging to him, Ruth felt a peace inside her, one she never wanted to lose. But I will – I will! She didn’t know where this thought came from, but it shattered the fragile tranquillity she’d felt, and the truth of it shivered through her.
As if he knew and wanted to deny it, Josh pulled her close. ‘Nothing will hurt you again, lass, not while I have breath in me body. You’re me wife now, in the only way you can be. Thou knows that. We can’t do owt about making our union legal, as that would expose you, but we’re bound together just as tightly as we would be if the church had blessed us and we had the certificate that stated we were husband and wife.’
‘I know.’
‘How does you feel about it, lass?’
‘I know there’s no other way for us. But your ma, Josh. What will your ma say?’
‘Ma don’t come into it, lass. But she knows me intentions. She’s not altogether for it, but she said she’d accept it, if you did.’
‘I accept it, Josh. I am your wife.’
‘Tonight you will be with me in me bed, and that’s where you’ll always spend your nights. And as we did just now, we’ll come together as one as often as we can. Eeh, lass, I’m a happy man. You’re made for loving. I’ve never had owt like it.’
‘Have you done it with others, Josh?’
His answer shocked her. She didn’t want him to have done so, but the way he put it softened how she felt. ‘A man has his needs, lass, and there’s those who’ll satisfy him for a payment. But never before did it mean anything other than a release. Never have I done it like we did – driven by a love that filled me soul and a need that consumed me. And never again will I take another. Doing so was just me looking for the basics in life. What we had fulfilled me as a man.’
Moving herself onto her elbow, she looked down at him. ‘They say as I’m a witch. Well, I’m telling you, Josh Bottomless, if you so much as look at another woman, I’ll cook up a spell that will turn you to stone.’
His laughter echoed around the shed and, with it, he raised himself. ‘Come on, lass. You’ll be in trouble with Ma as it is.’
‘Oh, Josh, what shall I tell her?’
‘You’ll tell her nowt – not on your own, you won’t. I’ll come with you and announce our marriage. I’ll tell her that we’re sorry we couldn’t invite her to the ceremony, but it were a private affair.’ Again they laughed. It was a laughter that dispelled Ruth’s earlier fears and bound them to each other as much as their coming together had.
‘I’ll tell you what, though, lass: we will have a celebration. One that Ma can join in. She can get her glad rags on and find sommat for you – she has trunks of stuff from her younger days, and we’ll have a sing-song around the piano the neet. Eeh, we might even have a drop of me ma’s homemade beer. By, lass, it’ll be grand.’
‘I didn’t know you played the piano?’
‘Aye, I does. Piano belonged to me grandma. She brought it with her when she came to me grandad. She were a canny player and taught me to play. I’ll teach you, if you like.’
‘Eeh, I would like. I’d really like that.’ And she knew she would – to be able to make music – something she’d only ever heard when the fair had come to Pradley and a man fed a card with many holes in it into a kind of barrel and turned the handle. She’d loved it and had stood next to him for more than an hour. To her, the sound tinkling in the air had a magic to it, and it had transported her to another world. It had made her feel whole, and she’d swayed her body to its rhythm. The man hadn’t laughed at her. He’d just said, ‘Lass, you may have an affliction, but that’s not the be-all of everything. You have music in your veins, and that will see you reet.’
How it could do that, Ruth didn’t know; but she did know that the piano Josh talked of had drawn her to it ever since she’d arrived. Many a time, when polishing it, she’d lifted the lid and tinkled the keys, and inside her at such moments had been an excitement she couldn’t have given a name to.