A Woman Undefeated (16 page)

“Did yer say rector, Mistress?”Maggie prattled on, regardless. “We call them priests back home. Our priest, Father Daley was really kind to us. He married me to Jack on the night that me mother died. He said we.............”

She stopped suddenly mid sentence, seeing that her mistress was looking at her with some sort of disdain.

“Oh, you’re a Catholic then?” she sniffed, as if she had a bad smell under her nose. “A left footer. Well, I’m sure I don’t know when your pagan services are. You can hear the noise of the bell at St. Winefreds tolling for the Masses all Sunday morning. You’ll have to go along yourself and find out the times. Jack will still need to work on Sunday though. The animals still want seeing to, no matter what the day.”

Well, that put me firmly in my place, Maggie thought resentfully. A left footer and of shabby appearance too. It’s a wonder she wants to breathe the air we’re sharing. She felt like getting up there and then and walking, but she knew that she couldn’t. It would be difficult for her to get a servant’s job again so easily.

Besides, what if she and Jack had made a baby? It was a thought that was constantly nagging her, and with that in her mind, she determined, she never would get away.

At midday came the workers, hungry as hunters from a morning spent in the fields.

Worn out and wet, with their clothes clinging, to Ethel’s despair, and with her new servant waiting on the table, the wife put before them a substantial meal. There was no sitting or joining in for Maggie though, she was to eat her meal later when the men had gone.

The men seemed to be getting on well in each others company, “Team working”, the farmer called it, as he kept up a cheery conversation throughout the meal.

Maggie stood watching from her station by the kitchen range, noting that Jack seemed relaxed and happy as he wolfed down his meal. Not so, the man called Solly. His face wore a doleful look, perhaps it was because he had a long, thin face and a hooky nose. He had darting, thin-lidded eyes and his chin was dark and stubbly. Beside the open-faced freshness of the young man named Sam, Solly was an ugly man.

Sam must have been every mother’s dream for their daughter. Handsome, good humoured and modest, while Billy, sitting on the chair beside him, was an elderly man. His face was lined and leathery, his brown eyes tired and rheumy looking, but he did his share of the farm work and Briggs was loathe to let him go.

A tremor passed over Maggie, when at one time Solly’s eyes met with hers. It was a knowing look that he gave her, making her feel dirty and afraid. As if he was seeing her as an usurper, Irish scum taking work from a local woman. She hoped that he wasn’t going to be unpleasant. They were, after all, going to be neighbours, but he seemed so different from his mountain of a wife. She decided to give Solly a wide berth if it was at all possible, feeling sorry for Ruthie, for being tied to such an unpleasant man.

She gazed at Jack, with his strong arms and good natured smile, his fair hair still plastered across his forehead, and decided that life for now wasn’t so bad. He was doing his best to make a future for the pair of them, the least she could do was to work as hard as him.

The afternoon passed pleasantly, as mistress and servant worked together in the dairy, churning and patting butter and Maggie learning how to make a passable cheese. The woman seemed to have regretted her unchristian stance on the girl’s religion and listened, seemingly sympathetic, as the girl poured out her woeful tales. She was rewarded at the end of the day with a basket of cold sliced chicken, another loaf and a large portion of crumbly Cheshire cheese.

So her spirits were high, as she walked back to Lilac Cottage, she had shown her mistress that she was not a shirker. It was late
in the afternoon by this time and the sky looked as if it was on fire, a sure sign that tomorrow would be a better day. It would be Saturday and hopefully Jack would be given part of his wage. Maybe some of it would come her way.

Her mind was full of things that would be needed, especially a bar of carbolic soap, as the cottage was in need of a good scrubbing. Then a needle for darning, thread and a quantity of remnants to make the place look brighter, and basic things such as flour, tea and salt. The money may stretch to a scrag of beef, with vegetables from the garden for a Sunday feast.

She didn’t notice the man as he stepped out of the bushes just ahead of her, as her head was down, whilst she hopped the muddy puddles left by the morning rain.

“Solly, yer put the heart across me, so yer did,” she cried, when she saw him.

“What are yer doing leaping out in front of me? Where’s Jack? Is he still at the farm?”

Solly had a very strange look on his face. He was fiddling with his trouser buttons and shuffling around, as if he had a pain.

She felt concern as he stumbled down into the grass, and went to kneel beside him to see if there was anything she could do. He grabbed her at once by the hair and pushed her to the ground, all the while muttering, that he was going to “tup the whore”. Her heart was racing wildly, as she realised what he wanted to do. It wasn’t a friendly wrestling match that Solly was after, he was after doing what Jack did, though definitely not the same!

“Get off me, yer stupid eejit,” she cried, her strength returning once she’d got her breath back.

“What the hell do yer think yer doin’, yer silly little man........?”

She managed some scratching and kicking, until she to threw him onto his back. Then kicked him in his tender bits, so he lay winded and in pain.

She stood there watching, breathlessly, concerned that she’d really hurt him, though she was more anxious to discover why he had chosen to lie in wait for her.

Solly clutched his manhood to him, as he gasped and uttered slimy sounding words that she hadn’t heard before. It was really dark now and she would only be able to see his face if she were to lean across him. She decided to stay on the track, in case he was shamming again.

“Saw yer with that fella,” Solly wheezed, “down on the sea front yesterday. Thought I’d have a go as well, seeing as Ruthie’s turned the cold-hearted bitch on me. A man has to have some relief, or a man can go blind, yer know.”

Maggie started laughing, albeit a little hysterically, but he looked so comical lying there. That this ugly little man, who was at least two inches smaller than her, should even think about trying to ravish her. Of course, he didn’t know that she had been brought up with Jack and had Bernie for a brother. Both, who in their childhood days, she had given a bloody nose.

“Well, I hope yer’ve learnt a lesson from attacking me,” she said grimly, after trying to get her feelings under control. “It was tough back there in Ireland and we weren’t brought up to sit around. Years of toil have made me any man’s equal, so think on that if you catch me alone again. And the man yer saw me with is a cousin. I was just saying goodbye to him.”

“Then yer won’t mind me mentioning to yer husband, that yer looked like yer were being more than friendly,” he retorted nastily, squatting on his haunches now, still believing that she had been having a secret meeting with the man.

“Go ahead, but you’ll end up feeling foolish, especially as I’ll tell him that you’ve bin following me. Back home, Jack was a prize fighter, what they call a pugilist, and he won’t take kindly to what yer saying about me. Remember I’m still his young and innocent bride to him.”

Solly spat on the ground, then set off limping. Maggie gave him time to get ahead. He must have had a seizure of the brain to act in the way he had. Or did all men keep their brains in their trousers like Solly, waiting for a chance to force their will?

She resolved to keep her distance and treat all men with
suspicion, though she couldn’t see Sam or Billy behaving like Solly had.

“Bless me Father, fer I have sinned.”

There was a silence as she got her thoughts together. Where would she start? What were her sins?

“Go on child,” prompted the priest, no doubt thinking that he hadn’t heard her voice before. Obviously one of the new Irish parishioners, who had slipped in late to Mass and just made it in time to take the Holy bread.

She cleared her throat and began.

“I don’t love me husband like I should and I was forced into a marriage I didn’t want.”

The priest listened for more, but Maggie had gone silent, trying to think of another sin.

“I have bin rude to me mother-in-law and I should say I’m sorry, but she was at fault as much as me.”

There was another long silence as she wondered if spending the shilling she had found and not sharing and not telling the truth to Jack was a sin? Or asking Johnny to take her back to Ireland,or kicking Solly where it hurt? She felt confused. Confession had been much simpler at home in Ireland, as she strived to be the perfect girl. Sometimes she had made up little sins just to tell the Father, but this time these were real. Grown up sins, not childish ones, and now she was nervous at what this priest would say.

Father Joseph O’ Brien was from a little town in Tipperary. The third son of a draper, the business wasn’t big enough to support another son, if he took on a family. It had been hard for this young man to leave the area that he had grown to love, to study theology in Dublin. He was a sensitive and caring person, with a clever brain, and if his family could have afforded the fees, would have had a distinguished career in medicine. But, instead of healing limbs and bodies, his mission was to heal the soul and mind. He was popular with his parishioners, especially old ladies, to whom he was especially kind. Joseph could hear from her voice
that this young woman was hurting. She was away from her family and homeland, just like he was. He felt a certain empathy and her punishment would not be strong.

“Say three Hail Mary’s and one round of the Rosary and try to work out what you can do to make your marriage better. Remember that your union is forever and you don’t want to live in constant misery. As to your mother-in-law, think of the fifth commandment when next you meet.”

Maggie dipped her head, made the sign of the Cross, then said thankfully that she would do so. The penance, after all, was not so strong. She went to genuflect before the altar, then skipped her way along the churchyard path. Soul cleansed, she was off to Parkgate promenade. Jack was working until three o’clock and until that time she was free.

She walked down past the English church and stood for a while listening to the singing. The road outside was full of horses, carriages and carts. Not like the church that she had just come from, where the congregation had been very small. She was wearing the blue dress with a stain on, so had thankfully slipped into the back of the church.

She stood outside the “Anne Rosemary”dress shop, looking longingly at the colourful rolls of satin, bombazine and brocade. She dreamt of the dresses she would wear if she became rich and famous. Though how that would be achieved, she wasn’t sure.

Moodily, she carried on, thinking back to the day before, when she had tackled Jack during his break at midday.

She had worked extra hard all morning, cleaning the family bedrooms, while the daughters were helping their mother in the kitchen and scullery. At dinner she had sat down with the others, while a meal of hot chicken and potatoes was served. She had thought that it was a sign that she had been accepted, and was eagerly looking forward to a little pay. Even Solly was in an up beat mood at the table, no doubt thinking how many tankards of ale he would be downing that day.

The farmer had then called his farm hands to order and produced his wooden cash box from a kitchen drawer. There was silence as each man, except Jack, was given seven silver shillings and they thanked him most profusely, as if receiving a pot of gold. It was Jack’s turn next and Briggs made a speech to say how well the new man was doing. He was a hard and tireless worker, as the farmer had known he would be. Nothing was said about Maggie and no money came her way. When Jack followed the others through the door, back to the fields or wherever they were working, Maggie had felt her temper rising. Had she not worked herself to a shadow for the Mistress, in those past few days?

“Excuse me, Farmer Briggs,” she began, trying to keep an even voice, though she wanted to shout that he was being unfair. All eyes turned to look upon her, from the farmer’s wife, her daughters and even the little black cat, who had jumped on her lap looking for chicken crumbs.

“Farmer Briggs, when I worked fer the Filbey’s back in Ireland, it was usual fer the servant to get paid fer their labours. Would that not be so here at your farm, as I’ve worked very hard fer yer wife these past few days?”

He looked at her astonished, but was gentle in his reply, that he had given her wage to Jack, as had earlier been agreed.

“So, would you excuse me fer a few moments, while I catch up with him, Mistress Briggs?” she had asked.

“I need some things from the village and t’will be too late fer the grocer shop, if he gives me my money tonight.”

She didn’t wait for permission. She flew out of the door as fast as her legs would carry her, a red mist of anger forming in front of her, as she began to shout after Jack.

He had been ambling along talking to Billy, on their way to finish the ploughing of a field they had started that morning. Surprised, he turned back into the yard and left Billy to walk on. He could see that Maggie was upset about something, but she had been in a strange mood since Friday night, when she had pushed him away in bed indignantly.

“Where’s me money, Jack?” she demanded loudly, once she had caught him.

“Farmer Briggs said he had given it to you and I don’t think that is being fair, do you?”

“Will yer keep yer voice down?” Jack said quietly. “They’ll be hearing yer from inside the house. Yer sound like a fish wife and yer showing me up.”

He took her arm and guided her towards an empty shippon.

“I need the money, Jack. We need something fer our dinner tomorrow, so we do.”

He stepped back a few feet from her, as she eyed him belligerently. He knew that she was quite capable of taking a swipe at him after she had heard what he was going to say.