Beyond Reason (4 page)

‘If only I could help,’ Peggy sympathized. ‘We are all so grateful to your father for the help he gave Fingal. I know my stepfather would help if he could.’

‘You helped us when Billy died. You cared for Janet, aye and loved her as though she was your own bairn, Peggy. She will always look upon you as a second mother. My father knew that. He wanted to show gratitude for all you did for us. If he could repay your family a little by helping Fingal, then so much the better. Anyway Fingal is a kind laddie and clever too. He was more than worthy of tutoring.’

‘Aye, we’re all proud o’ him, but he’s a modest laddie. He always enquires for you, and for Janet. I believe he thinks she’s more of a sister to him than I am.’ She smiled. ‘But of course I’m old enough to be his mother and he spent so many happy hours with you all when he was staying at the schoolhouse.’

None of Mary’s plans came to fruition. Isaac Todd made sure she had no spare time to weave the linen cloth. At night, she fell into bed exhausted.

‘Mistress Scott, you will remember I am giving you a home. Your brat eats as much as two children. Why is she so skinny when she eats so much? Is she ill?’ His brow darkened. ‘I heard your husband died of the consumption.’

‘Janet has excellent health.’ Mary hastened to assure him.

‘And she is nearly twelve, you say?’

‘Yes, she—’

‘Then she is old enough to work. You must tell Mistress Sharp I shall not require her services this winter. The girl must earn her own keep. I shall be taking four extra pupils. They will lodge with us for the winter term. They are farmers’ sons. They can only be spared from their labours during winter.’

‘But the two rooms are full already.’

‘You and your brat can move into the small attic.’

‘But Mr Todd, there is so much extra washing and cooking when the children stay here all week.’ Mary’s voice rose in dismay. ‘Mistress Sharp is a widow. She works at the salt pits in summer. She needs the work here. She needs money to feed her children. All the boarders pay for—’

‘You heard me, Mistress Scott. If the position is not to your liking you must find another.’

Janet had overheard this conversation. She already did her best to help her mother. Dominie Todd expected her to clean the schoolroom, wash the slates and mix the ink. In the winter the iron boiler was lit each day. There were buckets of coal to carry from the bottom of the schoolyard. Grandfather had chosen some of the older boys to do these tasks after school. He always gave the work to those from poor families to help them pay their fees. The schoolhouse had to be cleaned daily. There was the extra washing and ironing which the dominie insisted upon, as well as cooking, cleaning and washing for the weekly boarders. Mr Todd ate alone in the dining room. He expected to be treated like a gentlemen. All his linen had to be starched and ironed to perfection, his boots polished and his stockings darned.

Hatred for the new dominie was growing daily in Janet’s young heart. He picked on her in school. He asked her the most difficult questions, often from lessons they had not yet done. When she could not answer, he caned her. She had discovered he was not nearly so quick at arithmetic as her grandfather had been, and as he had taught her to be. When she had answered the mathematics questions swiftly and correctly, he called her impertinent. He caned her for that too. It had been hard to hold back the tears when he was so unjust, but she was proud. She was determined not to let him see she was upset by his treatment of her.

Molly Foster, who sat next to her, was sympathetic and kind. She was older than Janet but she often had to miss school to help her mother so Janet had been in the habit of helping her catch up with her lessons. Then a whole week came when Molly did not come to school with her two younger brothers.

‘Molly Foster will no longer attend school,’ the dominie informed her with a sneer. Janet looked at him. So she was to be denied even the small pleasure of a sympathetic smile or a friendly chat. She was sure it had given the dominie some kind of cruel pleasure to impart this news. ‘You will sit next to Fred and help him with his lessons.’ Fred Bridges was a fat bully, he smelled and even her grandfather had been unable to teach him. He only stayed at school because his father was a man of influence in the parish and an elder of the kirk. Janet’s heart sank but she knew worse was to come when the dominie went on, ‘I shall hold you responsible. If either of you do not finish your lessons you will both be punished.’ Janet stared up at him in dismay. Behind her she heard the two Foster boys murmur in sympathy.

The Fosters lived on a farm several miles away at the north edge of the parish. Their land straggled the boundary of the adjoining parish so they could have attended the school there, but their mother had insisted they should attend her grandfather’s classes. During the week they lodged with their Grandmother Fortescue on the outskirts of Rowanbank village. Janet knew there were three younger Fosters at home. After school, the boys confided that their father had ordered Molly to stay at home to help their mother.

‘Our Molly loves school, an’ learning, but Ma’s going to have another bairn.’

‘Aye, our Molly wis greetin’ when Father said she couldna come to school wi’ us no more.’

‘Ma said she ought to have a chance to learn her lessons, but Pa started to shout,’ Joe Foster said. ‘He threw the oil lamp at Ma. He says our Molly has learned enough rubbish frae the old dominie. He needs her to work on the farm and help in the dairy.’

‘Tell Molly I’m sorry and I shall miss her,’ Janet said, blinking back tears.

Fred Bridges was not only stupid, he was lazy. Janet began to dread each day and the cruel beatings the dominie administered with apparent pleasure. She dare not confide in her mother. It would add to her anxiety.

During one of the coldest nights of the winter, Janet was
wakened from sleep by the shuddering of her mother’s body close to her own. It was bitterly cold in the attic just beneath the roof. They huddled together for warmth, but it was not cold which made Mary Scott’s thin shoulders tremble. She was near to breaking point and she was trying hard to stifle her sobs. Janet was dismayed. Her mother rarely showed her feelings. Janet cuddled closer, hugging the thin body.

‘What is it, Mama?’ she whispered. ‘Has – has something happened?’

‘No, no, lassie. Go to sleep. Don’t worry.’

‘But why are you crying, Mama?’ She clung to her mother in sudden fear. ‘You’re n-not going to die too, are you, Mama?’

‘N-no! No, lassie. It’s Andrew. I don’t want him to leave his studies, but I’ve no more money left to pay the fees. There’s no pleasing Mr Todd. If a dish gets broken, he takes it from my wages, even when it’s one of his pupils. He – he seems to want to make us suffer, yet we have done him no harm.’

‘He is jealous of Grandfather,’ Janet said with a wisdom beyond her years. Even as she uttered the words, she knew she had stumbled on the truth. She did not understand why Mr Todd should be jealous of a person who was dead, she simply knew he was, and he was making her mother miserable. ‘I hate him!’ she whispered vehemently. ‘Don’t cry, Mama. Please don’t cry.’

‘I just wish your grandfather had let Andrew have Mr Saunders’s bursary, instead of arranging for Fingal to get it.’ As soon as the words were out Mary realized she had broken her promise to her father.

‘But Fingal won the bursary, Mama.’

‘I was not meant to know,’ she whispered. ‘You must keep it a secret.’

‘But Fingal did win, didn’t he?’

‘I promised your grandfather I would not tell anyone. Mr Saunders funded the bursary but your grandfather asked him. The McLauchlans are proud. They would not have accepted charity. Your grandfather set the examination in Fingal’s favour. I guessed what he had done when I saw the papers. He didn’t deny it and Fingal is very clever. He deserved a chance and he has been
Andrew’s best friend ever since they started school together. He is strong and loyal. We knew he would look after Andrew. I canna grudge him his opportunity. If only….’ She stifled another shuddering sob.

‘Tell me what I can do, Mama. How can I help?’

Mary was silent for a while.

Should she tell her daughter she could not afford to pay the fees the dominie was demanding for her schooling? Janet loved her lessons, or at least she had until Mr Todd became the dominie. Her grandfather had been proud of her. He had been convinced Janet was just as clever as Andrew and Fingal.

At length she said desperately, ‘Tomorrow, after school, I would like you to t-take a letter to Mr Cole. He – he’s my only hope. If – if he could lend me enough to pay Andrew’s fees I know we could repay him when Andrew finishes university and finds an apprenticeship. Perhaps the Reverend Drummond will help him find work in a bank. Andrew is good at arithmetic and all things with figures. I will tell Mr Cole that, if you could take the letter for me, lassie?’

‘I will go,’ Janet promised.

‘It will make you late for supper. Mr Todd will be angry, but I’ll set you something aside up here. I’ll hide it beneath the bed.’

Janet shivered in the darkness. Dominie Todd took pleasure in beating his pupils, but she sensed he wanted to beat her more than the rest.

This was borne out the following evening. It was a long walk down into the old village, across the fields and past the building where the savings bank committee met, then along to the far end where Mr Cole lived and worked. She had to wait until Mr Cole read her mother’s letter and wrote a reply. On the way home, she met Lucy Hughes, who had been her mother’s neighbour. She was a kindly, chatty woman and Janet did not like to be rude and hurry on, especially when her mother had always spoken well of Lucy as a helpful and kindly neighbour. So she was even further delayed.

Janet was cold and desperately hungry by the time she reached home again. She knew the dominie would have eaten his meal ages
ago. He was obsessed by punctuality. Fearfully she crept round the back of the schoolhouse and in through the wash house, hoping to get in without passing the room where he dined and read and enjoyed a glass, or more, of whisky. He must have been listening for her. As soon as she appeared in the kitchen he came across the passage and entered by the opposite door. His pale eyes were alarmingly bright and staring. Janet shuddered.

‘Well, miss, and where have you been?’ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother give a quick shake of her head, but she knew instinctively that she must not let the dominie know the reason for her errand. He would find a way of preventing her mother doing any extra work. He was always devising unnecessary tasks to take up her time and energy, almost as though he guessed her plans and took delight in thwarting them.

‘When I ask where you have been, I expect an answer, girl!’ he thundered, his pale eyes bulging, his face growing puce with anger. Janet shivered but she answered civilly.

‘I went for a walk. I – I met a friend. I forgot how late it is, s-sir.’

‘Where did you go? Who did you meet? How dare you be late for meals in my house?’

Janet hung her head. She knew whatever she said he would punish her in some way. She saw her mother, white-faced and trembling, wringing her hands. When she dared to utter a word of defence, Isaac Todd rounded on her in fury.

‘The brat is ruined. It is my duty to teach her to be prompt and mannerly when she lives in my house.’ He reached through the door, then swung to face them. He was grasping the cane. He had it ready. He had intended to use it.

‘No!’ Mary gasped. ‘She is my child. I told her to go to….’

‘In my house I make the rules. She will have nothing tonight except a beating. Nothing to eat! Do you hear me?’ Mary had expected this and prepared, but she had not expected him to beat her daughter. She was not in school now.

‘A-a drink of milk…?’ She played for time, trying to think. ‘The bairn must have a drink.’

‘Nothing.’ He advanced on Janet brandishing the cane, cutting through the air. ‘Nothing except this!’ Mary rushed to intercept.
Swift as a flash he struck at her, catching her across her face and shoulder, raising an angry stripe across the tender flesh of her cheek. The pain brought tears to Mary’s eyes, but it brought hatred to her heart, and anger to her brain. Before she could prevent him he had grabbed Janet and was laying the cane about her, uncaring where it struck. He was almost demented in his determination to be master of them both and Mary guessed he was well primed with whisky too. She stared around wildly. The poker lay on the hearth. She grabbed it and brought it down with all her strength. Fortunately for Isaac Todd, it hit his forearm and not his head. The cane fell from his grasp. Mary seized it. She faced him defiantly, pushing Janet behind her.

‘Go to our room, Janet.’ She spoke over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the dominie. ‘Fold all your clothes into a bundle. We are leaving this house.’ Teeth gritted, she outstared the sallow-faced man. He stood, clasping his throbbing arm, trying to flex his fingers. His bulbous eyes glittered with venom.

‘You are not fit to teach my child, or any other.’ Mary did not try to hide her contempt and loathing.

‘And where do you think you will go, madam?’ he sneered. ‘You have no money. You have no relatives. That I have learned. You have a son to educate, a sickly fellow by all accounts.’ Mary stared at him. So that was it? He had made enquiries about her. He believed she was at his mercy, that she would do whatever he asked.

‘I would rather sleep in the hedgerow than spend another night under the same roof as you. You are a fiend.’

‘You cannot go. You have a duty to do. A duty to the school, to the children!’

‘Find another slave.’ Mary backed carefully towards the door, her eyes bright with anger, the whiplash burning in her cheek. She still held the cane in one hand and the poker in the other. Anger made her vibrant and beautiful. For the first time, the dominie saw her as a desirable woman.

‘Come, come now,’ he wheedled, wincing as he held out his throbbing arm. ‘You cannot leave me in the lurch. Surely we can—’

‘Don’t come one step nearer.’ Mary raised the poker. He knew she would strike him. She had courage. He had seen the same proud defiance in her child’s eyes. He wanted to conquer them both, to be master.