A Mother's Shame (2 page)

Sadly, only three of the couple’s children remained alive. They had lost their four-year-old old twins, Samuel and Daisy, to a measles epidemic that had swept through the village some years back. Following their deaths, the financial situation had eased. But not so Martha’s heartache, and anyone who knew her would have said that she had never been the same since. The twins had been just a year younger than Maria, and were the apple of her eye; even now, not a day went by when Martha didn’t still feel their loss.

That was probably part of the reason why she was so protective of the three children she had left. Many was the time she had stood in the way of the belt and taken the brunt of the beating their father was administering to them. Like Henry, she could not tolerate his cruelty.

Now, as she glanced across at Maria picking at her food, every maternal instinct she had was screaming at her. And if the suspicion she had should prove to be correct . . . then she shuddered to think of the consequences. Unconsciously, she peered at Edward and a ripple of pure terror flowed through her veins, robbing her of her appetite.

Maria was just seventeen years old – young, beautiful and spirited. Unbeknownst to her father, a boy from the village had been trying to court her for some months now, but as far as Martha was aware, Maria had flatly refused to walk out with him up until now. And even if she had relented, surely she wouldn’t have been foolish enough to let him put her in the family way? She had always been such a sensible girl.

Throwing his knife and fork down onto the empty plate, Edward brought her thoughts sharply back to the present as he demanded, ‘So what’s for pudding then?’

Scraping her chair back from the table, Martha answered, ‘Spotted Dick and custard. It’ll take me but a few minutes to dish it up.’

Sighing with satisfaction, the man ran his hands across his bloated stomach, but then as his eyes came to rest on Maria and he saw her pushing her food around her plate, he snapped: ‘What’s the matter with you then, miss? That meal cost me hard-earned money, as well you know. It’s a sin to leave good food when there are starving people in the village. Are you sickening for something? I hope you haven’t been in contact with anyone who has this flu.’ Edward took every opportunity he could to pick on Maria.

‘Sorry, Father. I’m not feeling too well at present but I’m sure it isn’t the flu,’ Maria blustered. ‘Could I be excused? I think I might go up and have a lie-down for a while if you have no objection.’

Pulling her plate towards him, he intoned: ‘Waste not, want not. That’s what my dear old mother always used to say, God rest her soul. The trouble with you is you’ve had it too easy. Go on – away with you. But I shall expect you down in time for your Bible reading. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, Father.’ Scrambling away from the table, Maria lifted her drab calico skirts and headed for the stairs door, beating a hasty retreat whilst the going was good. She clattered away up the threadbare carpet runner and didn’t stop until she had closed her bedroom door firmly behind her. Then, sinking onto the end of the bed that she shared with Emma, she dropped her face into her hands.

Eventually she rose and crossed to the small window that looked down onto the Coleshill Road.

Why hadn’t Lennie been waiting for her for the past few weeks when she finished her shift at the post office in Chapel End? For months he had been there as regular as clockwork, the second she set foot out of the door, but now it was as if he had vanished off the face of the earth, ever since the night he had taken her.

Her mind raced back to the night he had led her into the churchyard behind the chapel. Her heart had been in her throat. What if her father was to find them there? But then Lennie had chased all her fears away when he told her that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and how much he loved her. Her heart had soared. This was Lennie making a promise to her, surely? Why would he have said those things otherwise? And life with him would be so different from the humdrum life she had known so far. There would be no scrimping and saving and having to make every penny count with Lennie. He always had money aplenty and was not afraid of spending it. And then he had kissed her – but the kiss tonight was different. There was an urgency about it and she had become alarmed when his hands began to wander to places they should not go.

‘It’s all right,’ he had told her as his large hand found its way beneath her blouse and squeezed her nipple. Before she knew it he had her pressed against the church wall and then his fingers were stroking her thigh and pulling her drawers aside. ‘I love yer, Ria,’ he had gasped as he hastily undid his breeches.

It was then that she had begun to struggle. As much as she loved him she knew that this was wrong. Kisses and cuddles were one thing, but this was something that only married couples should engage in.

‘Lennie . . .
no!’

His hand clamped across her mouth and now she was terrified. But it seemed that the more she fought him, the more determined he became to have her, and suddenly, as he forced himself into her, she knew a pain the like of which she had never imagined. It felt as if he was ripping her apart and she was helpless to stop him. After it was over she could remember crying softly and the tender way he had held her.

‘Don’t worry,’ he had told her. ‘You’re my girl now. I was only gettin’ it out o’ the way. You’ll grow to like it, you’ll see.’

Thoughts of him lifted the corners of her mouth into a rueful smile. She knew that her mother didn’t approve of him, but she loved him so much she could even forgive him for forcing himself upon her. He was so different from anyone else she had ever known. Oh, she knew he had a reputation for being a bit of a Jack the lad. But then who could blame him for not wanting to work down the pit like most of the other men in the village? As Lennie had told her, he wanted better, and if doing business deals here and there got it for him, then so be it.
’You stick wi’ me an’ you’ll have it all, gel,’
he had told her, so where was he now when she needed him most? He had avoided her like the plague ever since the night in the churchyard, although she had looked out for him every single day. He must have been busy, that was the only explanation for it. He loved her, didn’t he?

Suddenly she knew that she must see him and a plan born of desperation began to take shape in her mind. She would wait until everyone was in bed then she would sneak out and go and see him. Glancing at the rain-lashed window she drew her shawl more closely about her slim shoulders. But it wasn’t the thought of the weather that made her flinch; it was the realisation of what would happen if her father caught her. She could clearly remember the last time she had displeased him, and the cruel sting of his cold leather belt on the back of her bare legs.

Her chin suddenly jutted with defiance. Desperate situations called for desperate measures, and as far as she was concerned, if her suspicions proved to be correct, then this situation was desperate indeed.

She sat in the chilly bedroom for another hour then slowly made her way downstairs to sit through her father’s Bible-reading. The reading seemed to take twice as long as it normally did this evening, but at last he closed the Bible and peered at his children over the top of his gold-framed glasses.

‘You may all go to bed now,’ he told them, and one by one they formed a line and dutifully planted a peck on his cheek before climbing the stairs.

Once in the privacy of their little room, Maria helped Emma to get undressed and slipped a faded cotton nightgown over her head.

‘Aren’t you going to get undressed too, Ria?’ the child asked as her arms snaked around her sister’s neck.

‘In a minute, sweetheart. I’m a bit cold right now, so I thought I’d get in and you could give me a cuddle and get me warm.’

Emma giggled as Maria lifted the blankets and snuggled down beside her fully clothed.

‘Mother will be angry if you get your clothes all creased,’ she warned.

Maria kissed her soft cheek, whispering, ‘Mother won’t notice if we don’t tell her. Now you close your eyes and think of nice things.’

Emma immediately screwed her eyes tight shut and soon the sound of her gentle snores echoed around the room. Once she was sure that the child was asleep, Maria disentangled her arms and carefully rolled to the end of the bed. Downstairs, she could hear her mother pottering about as she banked down the fire and locked the doors, then seconds later she heard her father’s heavy footsteps on the stairs followed by her mother’s lighter ones.

She heard them walk down the long narrow landing and the sound of the bedroom door closing behind them, then she waited for what seemed an eternity until the only noise that could be heard was the wind flinging the rain against the windows.

Gingerly, she got off the bed and padded to the door. Inching it open, she peered along the landing and was rewarded with the sound of her father’s guttural snores. With her shoes in her hands, she tiptoed down the stairs. Her heart was hammering in her chest and every second she expected to feel the clamp of Edward’s steely fingers on her arm, but at last she made it to the back door. Quickly snatching up her coat, she quietly turned the key.

Once outside, the biting wind made her gasp and she struggled into her coat and slipped her shoes on before hurrying away.

In no time at all she had left the cottage behind and was battling against the wind and rain as she climbed the steep Chapel End hill. The full moon cast an eerie glow along the deserted road as she finally turned into Chancery Lane and paused to get her breath. Ahead of her she could see Lennie’s mother’s small house on the bend in the lane, and was relieved to see a light faintly shining through a gap in the curtains. That meant that they were still up. Perhaps Lennie had gone down with the awful influenza illness that was sweeping through the village at present? That would explain his absence for the last few weeks. The thought lent speed to her feet and she hurried on, eager to see him again.

Once she reached the front door, which opened directly onto the street, she did her best to flatten her damp windswept hair with the palm of her hand before tentatively tapping. Almost immediately she heard the sound of a bolt being drawn back. A plump middle-aged woman with tight frizzy hair peered out into the darkness. This was Lennie’s mother then. Maria had never actually met her before, apart from glimpsing her in the post office, and she was momentarily at a loss for words.

‘I er . . . Hello, Mrs Glover.’

‘Whadda yer want?’
the woman barked.

Maria gulped and went on, ‘I’m er . . . a friend of Lennie’s. I was wondering if I might have a word with him, please. If he’s in, that is . . .’

Maria’s voice trailed away as the large woman glared at her – and then suddenly the door was slammed in her face.

She hovered uncertainly and was just about to turn away when she heard the woman shout,
‘Lennie!
There’s one o’ yer fancy pieces at the door askin’ to see yer! Right bloody time o’ night to come callin’, this is. She wants her arse kickin’ if yer ask me.’

Once again the door was flung open, and Maria’s face flushed with pleasure as Lennie peered out at her.

He looked slightly nonplussed to see her, and a shifty expression crossed his face. ‘What brings you here at this time o’ night then?’ he asked. ‘I thought yer dad didn’t like yer out after dark?’

‘He d-doesn’t,’ Maria stuttered. ‘He doesn’t know I’m here.’

‘So why are yer then?’

Maria was suddenly glad of the darkness that would disguise the burning in her cheeks. ‘I had to see you, Lennie. There’s something I have to tell you. Is there anywhere we can go where we can talk?’

What
– at this time o’ night and in this weather?’ He scowled, but then seeing that she was upset he snapped, ‘Oh, all right. Wait there. I’ll just go an’ get me coat an’ me boots back on.’

Once again the door was shut in her face and Maria glanced fearfully up and down the lane. There would be ructions if anyone saw her here and word got back to her father. Thankfully, Lennie reappeared within seconds, buttoning up his coat. Grabbing her elbow, he began to guide her none too gently down the lane across the uneven cobblestones.

‘Me Mam ain’t none too pleased, I don’t mind tellin’ yer,’ he muttered peevishly. ‘She were just about to lock up an’ go to bed, an’ I’m dead on me feet. I’ve bin fer a game o’ dominoes in the Salutation wi’ me mates an’ I were lookin’ forward to a good night’s sleep. Another ten minutes an’ I’d have been abed.’

Maria’s stomach sank into her boots. Lennie didn’t seem pleased to see her at all, and no doubt he would be even
less
pleased when he heard what she had come to tell him.

‘So,
come on then. Spit it out – whatever it is yer need to say to me. I ain’t got all night to be walkin’ the streets in the rain, yer know.’

Stopping abruptly, Maria sought for the right words to convey her fears to him. Finally deciding that there was no easy way, she blurted out, ‘Lennie . . . I think I might be with child.’

Even in the dim moonlight she saw the shock register on his face. He took a step away from her as if he had been stung before gasping, ‘So what yer tellin’
me
for?’

Hurt made the tears that had been threatening spill from her eyes and stream down her cheeks. ‘I’m telling you because it’s your baby, of course, Lennie.’

He shook his head and held his hand out to keep her at a distance. ‘Fuck off. Yer needn’t try pinnin’ it on me. The flyblow could be anybody’s.’

‘Oh, Lennie, how could you even say that? I’ve never . . . You were the first and I’ve never been with anyone else. You know that.’ She was sobbing now but Lennie was unmoved and wishing that he was a million miles away.

‘Huh! I bet every girl in your position says that. I weren’t born yesterday, yer know. An’ anyway – we only did it the once. I never meant fer it to get serious.’

‘You
only did it once – and you said you loved me.’ Her voice was thick with raw pain and she suddenly felt as if she was caught in the grip of a nightmare. For weeks Lennie was all she had thought of, every waking minute. She even dreamed of him at night, but now here he was telling her that he hadn’t meant any of the things he had said to her.