Eve and Her Sisters (7 page)

By the time Mary had finished speaking, Eve and Nell were sick to their stomachs, but a thin feeling of relief undergirded Eve’s revulsion. Some of the things Josiah had made Mary do to him were nauseating, but as far as she could ascertain he had not tried to violate her apart from once. Returning to this, Eve said gently, ‘When Mr Finnigan put his hand inside your knickers and hurt you, are you sure he didn’t do it again? Or anything else like that to your private place?’

Mary shook her curls. ‘He tried to but I cried and shouted and carried on and said I’d tell, and so he stopped.’

Eve stared at her sister. She felt disconcerted by the matter-of-fact way Mary had spoken and she could tell Nell did too. ‘But he wouldn’t stop doing those other things?’

Mary wriggled. ‘He said I was his special girl and he was nice sometimes. He-he gave me lots of things, sweets, money an’ that. Like Da and the lads did.’

‘But this was different, Mary.You do see that, don’t you? Da and the lads . . .’ She didn’t know how to put it. ‘They didn’t want you to do things that were wrong like Mr Finnigan. They loved you properly. They didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do.’

Mary stared at her, her big blue eyes shaded by their thick lashes. ‘Aye, I know.’

She had to ask. ‘Why didn’t you tell me what was going on, or Nell even? Did you think we’d be cross?’

Again the wriggle. ‘He said it had to be a secret and if I told we wouldn’t be able to stay and we’d be out on the streets. He said no one else would take us on and . . . he wanted to look after me. He said . . .’

‘What? What did he say?’

‘He said he loved me more than Phoebe an’ the bairns.’

‘Oh, hinny, hinny.’ Eve pulled Mary into her and hugged her fiercely.

The three girls spent that first night curled up together on a bed of bracken and moss in a sheltered spot under the thick hedgerow, wrapped in their blankets. Although the day had been mild it had become bitterly cold in the early hours, and Eve had awoken long before dawn. She lay stiffly in the darkness, trying to control her shivering so as not to wake her sisters.

She and Nell must find work soon. Somewhere far away from Stanley where no one would be aware of Nell’s real age. Her sister could easily pass for thirteen and that would have to be their story from now on. Mary looked exactly what she was, a bairn, but if she and Nell could find employment they could rent a room somewhere. She was used to making a penny stretch to two; somehow they would manage. They’d have to.

Worry about the future gnawed at her, along with hunger pains. The blackberries had been welcome but hardly filling. She must find a village shop once it was light and get something for them to eat, a loaf of bread and perhaps a bag of pig’s chitterlings and some cheese. Thank goodness the weather was holding; if it had been raining she didn’t know what they would have done.

They had to find work and somewhere to stay quickly.
Panic threatened to overwhelm her. If it wasn’t for Mary, she and Nell could likely go into service, but no big house would set them on with a child in tow. But they couldn’t be separated.Whatever it took, they couldn’t be separated. She had let Mary down once, she wouldn’t do it again.

Hot tears seared her cold face and for the umpteenth time Eve asked herself how she could have been so blind to what had been going on. She would never forgive herself, and if her da and the lads were here they wouldn’t forgive her either.

Over the next little while this was a constant refrain at the back of Eve’s mind. She had never travelled further than the outskirts of Stanley before and had no idea where to make for or the best place to find work. This, added to the guilt she felt about Mary, made each day harder than the one before.

The first three days the weather remained clement and they were able to buy food from the villages they passed through. Every morning they found a stream to wash and drink from but although they looked presentable, there were no jobs to be had. Every night they found as sheltered a spot as possible and put on every item of clothing from their parcels, huddling together under their blankets but waking cold and damp. The fourth day was one of drizzling rain. Thankfully a farmer’s wife took pity on them and let them spend the night in the hay barn. In spite of the rats and mice scurrying about, it was the first time they’d slept soundly since leaving Stanley, but when Eve woke in the morning it was to the knowledge their money was all but gone and they were no nearer finding work or lodgings.

The farmer’s wife appeared at the bottom of the hayloft as they prepared to climb down. She shook her head at Mary’s cough which had got worse each night they had slept in the open, her eyes sweeping over them as one by one they climbed down the ladder to stand in front of her. ‘Ee, you shouldn’t be traipsing the countryside, now then.’ She patted Mary’s blonde curls, adding in an aside to Eve,‘They’d be fed and clothed in the workhouse, lass. There’s that to consider with the winter coming on.’

Eve stared at the round, kindly face. The farmer’s wife meant well, but she’d rather see them living the whole winter rough than go into that place.

The woman sighed as she took in Eve’s expression. ‘Aye, well, I can see you’ve made up your mind so I’ll say no more. Come away into the kitchen and have a bite afore you go, the three of you.’

Mary and Nell looked eagerly at Eve but she pressed her hands on their shoulders in silent warning. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t pay you much. Maybe just a hot drink if you’d be so kind?’ she said flatly.

‘A hot drink?’ The farmer’s wife smiled. ‘Aye, I can do that right enough, lass, and a bit more besides, but no more talk about payment. I’ve got five bairns myself and a couple of grandchildren. I wouldn’t like to think of any of them out on the road without a soul to help them on their way.’

The kindness was too much. As they followed in a small procession across the farmyard which smelt strongly of cows and manure, Eve swallowed against the lump blocking her throat. It wasn’t raining but the sky was grey and overcast and it was cold, a north-easterly wind chaffing her face.

‘Wipe your feet there.’ A huge cork mat lay at the threshold of the great stone-floored kitchen and they did as they were told, then stared open-mouthed at the room in front of them: the whitewashed walls, shining copper pans, dresser laden with brightly coloured crockery and two black settles strewn with red cushions. But it was the long wooden table that held their eyes.The remains of what clearly had been breakfast had not yet been cleared away and the big loaf and pat of butter and plates holding traces of fried bacon and eggs made their saliva flow.

A roaring fire was blazing in the enormous range between two big bread ovens, and now the farmer’s wife said, ‘Have a warm while I clear away these dirty dishes. My lot are messy eaters, bless ’em.’

‘Let me help you.’

As Eve made a move, the farmer’s wife flapped her hand. ‘I’m all right, lass. I made a pot of tea before I came for you. There’s three mugs on the dresser and milk and sugar on the table. Sort yourself out and I’ll get the bacon on.You all like bacon and eggs?’

Eve was so hungry she had to swallow twice before she could say, ‘Yes please.’

Once they were seated at the table sipping the hot, sweet tea, Eve glanced at her sisters. Their faces held the rapt look hers probably did. The only time they had had sugar in their tea at home had been on high days and holidays, and it had always been porridge for breakfast. Over the last days she had been too worried about money to even buy milk, they had slaked their thirst at the streams they’d found, and each mouthful of food had been chewed slowly and carefully to make it last. She knew Mary and Nell had been constantly hungry although they hadn’t complained.

They had had two cups of tea by the time the farmer’s wife slapped three plates of bacon and egg in front of them, after which she cut thick slices off the loaf of bread and spread them liberally with the rich golden butter. ‘Help yourselves, there’s plenty more where that came from.’ She glanced at them in turn. ‘This’ll keep you going for a while, eh?’

Eve’s voice broke as she said, ‘Thank you, thank you very much.’

The farmer’s wife busied herself about the kitchen until they had eaten their fill and were sitting back in their seats, replete for the first time in days. She joined them at the table, pouring herself a cup of tea and sitting down before she said, ‘So, where are you heading for?’

Eve stared at her helplessly. ‘Anywhere we can find work.’ When they had knocked on the farmhouse door the previous evening she had told the farmer’s wife her father and brothers had been killed in an accident at the pit the week before and as it was a tied house they’d been turned out on their ear. It was stretching the truth a little but now she elaborated on this, saying, ‘Nell and I have been used to domestic work in the past but we don’t mind what we do.’

‘Aye, well, it’s a town you need, lass. You won’t pick up much in the country, not now the tattie pulling is dwindling and all the part-time work.You heard of the Gateshead hirings at the Michaelmas Fair?’

They shook their heads.

‘That’s your best bet, to my mind.You get all sorts there, wanting this an’ that. Course there’s never so much doing as in the summer but there’s always domestics wanted, some to live in and some out.’ Her gaze rested on Mary for a moment. ‘It might be a mite difficult for you to get somewhere living in, mind.’

‘That wouldn’t matter. If Nell and I were earning we could rent a room.’

The farmer’s wife didn’t comment on this but her face expressed doubt.

Refusing to have her hope squashed, Eve said, ‘When is the Michaelmas Fair?’

‘Why, today, lass.’The farmer’s wife seemed amazed she did not know this. ‘In Saltwell Park.They do the hirings near the bandstand.’

‘Could you tell us how to get there?’

‘Aye, I can do that. It’s a bit of a walk, mind, but you’ll be there midday if you put your best foot forward and likely there’ll be folk hiring until twilight. Now, do you want another cup of tea afore you go?’

Eve stood up, Mary and Nell following her lead. ‘No, but thank you. We’d better go.’ She glanced at their empty plates. ‘What do I owe you?’

‘I told you, lass. Nowt. Now you get off and good luck. I’ll be saying a little prayer for you the day.’

Their stomachs full and the farmer’s wife’s good wishes ringing in their ears, they began at a brisk pace. It was an hour before the rain began, but when it did it was nothing like the drizzle of the day before. Long before they reached the outskirts of Gateshead they were soaked through to their skin, the biting wind whipping their sodden clothes about them and their faces blotchy and numb.

Fear had taken hold of Eve. She didn’t mind being wet, not for herself, and Nell was as strong as an ox, but Mary was different. She herself was thin - scrawny, some of the unkinder lads at school had called her - but Mary had a fragility that, combined with her blonde curls and translucent skin, made her fairylike.And her cough was worse. Much worse. Handing her parcel to Nell, Eve turned to Mary. ‘Climb on my back and I’ll give you a piggy but don’t strangle me, mind.’

Mary didn’t need to be told twice. Nell held out her hand with a resigned air and Mary gave her her parcel before scrambling on to Eve’s back. She buried her face in Eve’s neck, seeking her sister’s body warmth like a small baby animal.

Once they were on their way again, Mary shut her eyes, trying to imagine she was home and warm and safe. The rain gusted against them but she was protected to some extent now and felt a measure of comfort. She wished she was back at the Finnigans’. She coughed, wincing as her chest hurt. She hadn’t liked what Mr Finnigan had made her do but she missed Hannah and her friends. And it’d been warm there and Phoebe’s meals had been grand. She hated being cold and wet. She hated it when they’d had to sleep outside. Most of all she hated this tramping about from place to place. It was all right for Nell, she didn’t mind walking.

She coughed again, and when Eve said, ‘You all right, hinny?’ she mumbled a reply.

Nell had been nasty to her this morning.Resentment against her sister flared. All she’d done was to whisper to Nell that she didn’t want to go to Gateshead and she didn’t see why they couldn’t go back to Stanley and Nell had nearly bit her head off. And saying that this was
her
fault. Hurt at her sister’s hard-heartedness brought tears pricking at the back of her eyes. It wasn’t her fault. Eve had said it wasn’t. Nell was horrible and she’d always been jealous because Mr Finnigan hadn’t made a fuss of her.

She glanced at her sister trudging along at the side of them, burdened by the weight of their things. Rain was dripping off Nell’s nose and her felt hat hung limply round her face. When in the next moment Nell stumbled and nearly went headlong, Mary smiled to herself.

Nell caught the smile and knew exactly what Mary was thinking. She would have liked nothing more than to take her hand and wipe the smile off her sister’s pretty face, but of course she couldn’t. She ground her teeth and marched on. She wasn’t sorry she’d gone for Mary earlier, she was sick to death of her. Mary was bone selfish and always would be. Look how she’d lorded it over her when Mr Finnigan had given her those hair ribbons for her birthday, twirling them in front of her nose. Mary always had to be the centre of attention, it’d been the same since she was a toddler.

She shouldn’t have said what she’d said, though. The guilt she’d been battling against since she had lost her temper with her sister rose up. Mr Finnigan had been wicked and Eve would go barmy if Mary told her what she’d said. She hadn’t meant to lose her rag but Mary’s griping had made her mad. Mary knew full well they couldn’t go back. She just hoped they found work at the hirings; Eve’s money wouldn’t last for ever.

Eve was thinking the same thing. She had been amazed at how expensive buying their food had proved, she could have made three or four loaves of bread for the price of one in a shop. But it was her inability to provide a roof over their heads which was her main worry. And here they were looking like drowned rats and Mary’s cough like a bark now - that’d put folk off.And how many people would come to the hirings on a day like this? The weather would be bound to put potential employers off. Mind, it might reduce the number of folk who were seeking to be hired too. She hoped so, they needed every advantage they could get. If she and Nell could get work, they could manage for a week or so until they got their wages and could look for somewhere to stay. There must be another kind farmer round this area somewhere who had a barn they could sleep in, or even someone with a tin shack on their allotment. Her da had had an allotment at one time and the little hut he’d made there had kept the rain off. Anything was better than nothing. She would beg, plead, anything.