A Mother's Courage (9 page)

Eloise approached her slowly, not wanting to
alarm her, but Ada was teetering very close to
the water's edge and in her concern for Joss she
was quite unaware that one step backwards
would send them both tumbling into the rushing
waters of the river. Joss had stopped crying and
was smiling up into her face as he tugged at a
lock of her long, lank hair.

'Ada, dear,' Eloise said softly, 'bring Joss over
here.'

'My baby,' Ada said dreamily. 'Joss is my
baby.'

Moving as stealthily as a hunter, Eloise reached
her just as Ada swayed backwards and she
grabbed her by the arm, dragging them both away
from imminent danger. 'Don't be frightened, Ada.
You were too near the riverbank, my dear.'

Ada glanced over her shoulder and her lips
trembled. 'She pushed me into the sea. The water
came over my head.' She thrust Joss into his
mother's arms. 'Joan pushed me into the sea.'

Horrified, Eloise cuddled Joss to her breast.
'No, she couldn't have done such a thing, Ada. It
must have been an accident.'

Ada shook her head and tears spurted from
her eyes. 'No, she wanted me dead. She took my
baby and she wanted me to die.'

Beth had begun to cry and clouds had
obscured the sun. The snow melt running off
the hills had turned the river water to a milky
grey and the willows swayed in the wind.
Eloise bundled a protesting Joss into the cart
beside Beth and she took Ada by the hand.
'Come, dear. I think it's going to rain. We'd
better hurry home.' For a moment she thought
Ada was going to rebel, and Eloise realised with
a tug of dismay that there would be little she
could do if Ada refused to accompany her back
to Cribb's Hall. She might have the mind of a
child, but she had the body of a fully grown
woman and the advantage of height. Eloise
gave Ada's hand a comforting squeeze. 'If we
go home now I'll get Mabel to bring us cake for
tea, and this evening I will read
Alice in
Wonderland
to you.'

'I'd like that,' Ada said meekly, and she
allowed Eloise to lead her back the way they had
come.

By the time they reached Cribb's Hall, dark
clouds had obliterated the tops of the hills and
the first drops of rain were beginning to fall.
They were only halfway along the gravelled
carriage sweep when Eloise heard the rumbling
of wheels and the pounding of horses' hooves.
There was nowhere to hide and even if there
had been she was hampered by the cart's small
wheels and by Ada, who had been walking
slower and slower as they approached the
house. She stopped dead, refusing to budge.
'Won't go back to my room. Don't want to.'

'Now, Ada, dear Ada, don't be difficult,' Eloise
said breathlessly. The carriage was drawing
closer every second. 'We need to go indoors or
we'll get wet, and you'd like a slice of chocolate
cake, wouldn't you? It's your favourite.' Eloise
tugged at Ada's hand, but she had a set stubborn
look on her face, and Joss was trying to climb out
of the cart, which had set Beth off and she was
howling.

The carriage had slowed down as Riley drove
it through the great wrought-iron gates, but the
pair of matched greys could move much faster
than she, and Eloise could only drag Ada out of
the way and pull the cart to safety. A screech
from Joan confirmed her worst fears – they had
been seen. Obeying orders, Riley drew the horses
to a halt. Ted leapt from the box to open the
carriage door and put down the steps. He cast
Eloise an anxious and apologetic glance over his
shoulder as he helped Joan alight quickly
followed by Hilda.

'I knew it,' Joan shrieked, pointing a trembling
finger at Eloise. 'You evil little bitch. What in
hell's name do you think you are about?'

Hilda pushed Joan aside. 'You've done it this
time, lady. I'll get Mr Cribb to sort you out once
and for all, but I'm telling you now, it'll be the
workhouse for you. If I have any say in the
matter, you will leave Cribb's Hall today and
never return.'

'I will go,' Eloise stormed. 'And gladly. I hate
this place and I hate both of you. I'll take my
children and we'll never ever set foot in this
place again.'

Hilda's small eyes glittered with malice. 'Oh,
you'll go all right, lady. But our Ronald's
children will stay here with us, where they
belong.'

In the small room that her father-in-law called
his study, but which Eloise had always suspected
was a bolt-hole where he could hide from
the women in the house, Harcourt stood with his
back to the fire looking distinctly put out. Eloise
could not tell whether he was angry or merely
embarrassed as she stood before him, waiting for
the promised tirade to begin. She knew that the
version of events as told by Hilda would be
biased against her, and Eloise held herself stiffly
erect. She cleared her throat as a nervous tickle
made her want to cough. 'There's no need to say
anything, Mr Cribb. I know where I'm not
welcome and I will be leaving this house first
thing in the morning.'

'Nay, lass. I know things haven't been easy for
you, but I didn't want it to come to this.'
Harcourt held his hand out in a tentative gesture
and then let it drop to his side. 'Won't you
reconsider? I mean, a few words of apology to
Mrs Cribb would go a long way to heal the rift.'

Eloise shook her head. 'You know nothing of
what has been going on, sir. I don't want to speak
ill of Ronnie's mother, but Mrs Cribb and her
sister have made it plain from the start that I am
unwelcome here. They want to take Joss away
from me and bring him up as a substitute for his
father. Well, I won't have it. Joss isn't a carbon
copy of Ronnie and I will take him away from
this place and bring him up as I see fit.'

'But, lass, how will you live? Where will you
go?'

'I have friends in London,' Eloise lied. 'I will
find work.'

Harcourt's expression softened. 'Bravely said,
but what could a slip of a girl like you do to earn
a living?'

'I can teach. I've had a good education and I
can pass it on to others.'

'I don't doubt it, lass. But who will care for the
little ones while you are working? Why not leave
them here with us, at least until you are settled?'

'Never!' Eloise backed towards the doorway. 'I
would sooner leave them outside the doors of the
Foundling Hospital than leave them to the
tender mercies of Mrs Cribb and her sister.' She
stopped, biting her lip. 'I'm sorry if I offend you,
but if you'd seen the way that poor creature
upstairs is treated you would be ashamed, really
ashamed. Her mother would be turning in her
grave if she saw how Ada was locked away out
of sight and beaten for the slightest reason.'

'Nay, I won't have that. It's true Ada has to be
kept away from the rest of the household, but
that is for her own safety as much as anything,
for who knows what the simpleton would do if
she were allowed to wander free.'

'Whatever the reason, I am sure her mother
would not want her to be treated in this way.
Your hunting dogs are better cared for, Mr
Cribb.'

A wry smile curled Harcourt's lips. 'Quite
probably, lass. It's said that I have the finest pack
of fox hounds and beagles in the county. I may
not be gentry, but I enjoy riding with the hunt.'
His smile faded and was replaced by a worried
frown. 'But that's by the by, and you are misinformed
about Ada's mother, she is certainly
not dead, and she would not deliberately mistreat
her own daughter.'

Jolted out of her anger, Eloise stared at him in
surprise. Had she heard him correctly? 'You say
her mother is not dead?'

'She were very much alive half an hour ago.' A
flicker of humour momentarily lit Harcourt's
blue eyes. 'Ada is our Joan's daughter, born out
of wedlock more than twenty years ago. It's not
something that we like to dwell on, but I'm sure
that the servants have told you all about Joan's
unfortunate past.'

'They said she was jilted, but no mention was
made of a child.'

'That's because it isn't common knowledge. All
families have their secrets and skeletons in their
cupboards. When the truth came out about the
man she was due to marry, Joan went to live with
her Auntie Mary in Bridlington to escape from the
gossips. When it turned out that she was in the
family way, it was thought best that she stayed on
after the child was born. My sister, Mary, had
been recently widowed and Ada grew up thinking
that she was her mother and not our Joan.
Then five years ago Mary died, and there were no
one to look after Ada, so we brought her here.'

Eloise could hardly believe her ears. She stared
at Harcourt in disbelief. 'Why are you telling me
this now?'

'Knowing the truth of the matter might help
you to understand our Joan a bit better, and you
really should not judge her too harshly. She only
did what she thought was best for Ada.'

'Ada says she had a baby and it was taken from
her. Is that all a fantasy?'

Harcourt moved slowly round his desk to sit in
the padded leather chair. 'Ada has the mind of a
child and the body of a woman. Mary was ailing
for a long time, and not in the best position to
keep an eye on the girl. It's true, Ada did bear a
child, but there was no question of her being
capable of raising it herself. It were found a good
home, and Ada was told that it were stillborn.
We thought that were the kindest thing to do in
the circumstances.'

'Kind?' Eloise stared at him in disbelief. 'You
think that was kind? That poor young woman is
constantly looking for her baby; she is brokenhearted
and suffers terribly. You weren't being
kind, you were just saving face. I thought you
were different, but I can see that you are just as
bad as Hilda and Joan. You only think of your
good name and of making money. Well, I'm
ashamed to be related to you, even by marriage,
and I can't wait to leave this house for good. And
I will be taking my children with me. Neither you
nor anyone else is going to stop me.' Choking
back angry tears, Eloise raced from the room.

She did not join the family for supper that
evening, but Mabel took pity on her and
smuggled some food from the kitchen. As Eloise
ate hungrily, Mabel stood watching her with
tears in her eyes. 'I shall miss you and the little
ones. It won't seem the same here without you.'
Eloise swallowed a mouthful of cold ham and
pickle. 'I shall miss you too, Mabel.'

'But how will you get on, ma'am?' Mabel
asked anxiously. 'How will you even get to the
station?'

'I'll walk,' Eloise said firmly. 'I'll put the
children in the little cart that Ted made for them
and I'll walk every step to Scarborough if I have
to. Who knows, we might meet a kind carter or a
farmer on the way there who will give us a lift,
but go to the station I will.'

Mabel wiped her eyes on her apron. 'Ada will
go into a decline, I know she will. She'll be
heartbroken, poor thing.'

'I know, and I feel terrible about it, but I cannot
take her with me. Even if I could, Miss Joan
would never allow it.'

'They say below stairs that Miss Joan is Ada's
mother, but it's only servants' gossip. I don't
suppose it's true.'

Eloise bit into a hunk of bread and butter
which rendered her temporarily speechless and
saved her from answering. She might heartily
disapprove of the Cribbs' treatment of Ada, but
she had to respect their right to keep the sad
truth to themselves. 'That was so good,' she said
at last. 'Thank you, Mabel. I'll always remember
your kindness to me, and Ted's too.'

Impulsively, Mabel rushed over to throw her
arms around Eloise's neck. 'I will really, really
miss you.' She drew away hastily, and burying
her face in her apron she ran from the room.

When she was certain that both children were
fast asleep, Eloise went upstairs to see Ada. She
had intended to break the news of her departure
gently and to assure Ada that she would write to
her and send her picture postcards from London.
She had known that it was going to be difficult,
but she was unprepared for the sight that met her
eyes when she entered the room. Ada was lying
on the bed with both hands tied to the brass head
rail and with her ankles strapped together by a
length of cord. Her face was swollen and blotchy
from crying and her lips were cracked and
bleeding as if she had bitten them. Eloise rushed
over to her and began untying the cords that
bound her. 'Ada, who did this to you?'

'Miss Joan,' Ada whispered hoarsely. 'She beat
me and tied me up so that I couldn't come and
find you. She said you were going away and I
would never see you again.' She collapsed
against Eloise's shoulder, and her whole body
was racked with sobs.

Eloise rocked her in her arms and stroked
Ada's hair. 'There, there, don't cry, dear. You
know I wouldn't go away without telling you.'

'But you are leaving, she said so.'

'I have to go, Ada. I cannot stay here.'

'I want to come too.'

'If it were possible I would take you, but I
cannot.'

Ada pulled away from her. 'You don't want
me. You're just like her. Miss Joan don't want me
neither. No one wants me.'

'Please, Ada, don't think that. You mustn't
think that ever. It's just that I've very little money
and I don't know how I'm going to manage even
with my own children.'

'But you're taking them,' Ada cried fiercely.
'You won't leave them, so why can't you take
me? I'm a good girl. I can help you look after Joss
and Beth. Take me with you, I'm begging you on
my knees. Take me with you, please.'

Eloise crept through the deserted kitchen carrying
her suitcase and valise. Ada followed close
behind her with Joss clutching her hand and Beth
cradled in the crook of her arm. The first grey
light of dawn filtered through the windows and
Eloise knew they must hurry or the scullery
maid would find them when she came downstairs
to light the fire in the range. She glanced
over her shoulder at Ada, who looked like a
walking scarecrow in her odd assortment of
clothes. The skirt that she wore over her nightgown
must have been made for her many years
ago and barely came down to her ankles. Her
straw bonnet and cloak were those borrowed
from one of the maids and were green-tinged
with age but serviceable, and on her feet she
wore a pair of boots that had belonged to one of
the under-grooms and discarded because they
were past repair.

If matters had not been so dire, Eloise might
have chuckled at the sight of the gangling young
woman in her outlandish garb, but fashion was
not uppermost in her mind at this moment. She
led them through the scullery and was about to
open the door to the stable yard when the sound
of footsteps coming from the kitchen made her
freeze to the spot. She held her breath, raising her
finger to her lips as a warning to Ada to keep the
children quiet. But it was Mabel who came
hurrying through the door, and in her hands she
clutched a package wrapped in brown paper.
'It's only me,' she said breathlessly. 'Norah the
scullery maid's been took sick. Cook thinks it
might be the measles, and I had to get up extra
early to do Norah's chores.' She thrust the parcel
into Eloise's hand. 'Here's summat for the
journey. It's just a bit of bread and cheese, but it
will keep you going for a while.' Without waiting
to be thanked, she pushed past Eloise and
opened the door to the stable yard. The cobblestones
were bathed in the pale green light of
early dawn but the shadows were deep and dark
as the small party made their way across to the
stable block. Eloise stifled a cry of fright as a
figure emerged from the doorway but Mabel
turned to her with an encouraging smile. 'It's
only our Ted. I told him what you planned,
ma'am. He's got the cart all ready for you and
he'll walk you part of the way.'

Seeing Ted, Joss uttered a cry of pleasure and
broke away from Ada's grasp to run to his friend.
Ted swung him up in his arms. 'Hello there,
young fellow.'

Eloise glanced nervously over her shoulder.
The shadows seemed to be filled with menace
and she could have sworn she saw a movement
out of the corner of her eye, but she told herself it
was just an agitation of her nerves, and she was
imagining things. 'Ted, I can't thank you and
Mabel enough for helping us, but we must get
away before we're seen.'

'Too late,' Ted muttered, staring over her
shoulder in the direction of the house. 'It's the
master.'

Eloise spun round to see Harcourt striding
towards them and her heart sank, but she was
not about to give in. 'Put Beth in the cart, Ada.
We're leaving no matter what Mr Cribb says.'

Harcourt came hurrying towards them. 'Hold
on a moment, lass. This is not right. Not right at
all.'

'You won't stop us, Mr Cribb. I'm leaving and
I'm taking my children with me and Ada too.'

'I'm going with Eloise,' Ada whimpered,
cowering behind her. 'Please let me go, mister.'

Harcourt shook his head. 'I cannot allow it,
lass. You belong here with your mother.' He
seized Ada by the hand, dragging her to his side.
'It's for your own good, Ada.'

'Please let her come with me,' Eloise pleaded. 'I
will look after her, I promise.'

'I don't doubt you'd try, but I can't allow it.
This is Ada's home and she must stay. I cannot
stop you from going, Eloise, nor will I see your
children taken from you.' Harcourt took a small
leather pouch from his pocket and pressed it into
her hand. 'There is enough brass there to keep
you and the little ones for a while at least. I won't
see my grandchildren starve, but you must
realise that if you leave now, you can never
return to Cribb's Hall. Our Hilda will take it very
much to heart and she'll never forgive you for
taking young Joss away from her.'

Eloise took the pouch and tucked it away in her
skirt pocket. 'Thank you. I am truly grateful to
you, but nothing would induce me to return to
this place.'

'Don't leave me,' Ada sobbed. 'Don't go.'

'I must, Ada. I'm so sorry, my dear.' Eloise
turned away, hiding her own tears of grief on
leaving the poor creature to the mercies of the
Cribb family. 'Ted, if you'll put Joss in the cart
perhaps I can balance the suitcase on one end,
and the valise will hang on the handle.
Obviously you cannot come with us, even part of
the way.'