The Girl with the Red Ribbon (15 page)

No wonder this place was called Hell, she thought, as the night dragged interminably on. Still trying to make sense out of what had happened, her thoughts turned to Sab. Why had he been avoiding her? And why had he gone to the market without her? They'd always got on well, and she couldn't think of anything she'd done to upset him. Surely he wasn't party to her being snatched? Thinking of her last visit to Sudbury reminded her of old Aggie's warning. What was it she'd said exactly?
Beware she with the forked tongue
. That was it. Aggie was a respected
wise woman and her portents were to be heeded so why hadn't Rowan paid more attention? Obviously she'd meant Fanny, but if her stepmother thought she was going to be rid of her that easily she could think again. There was no way she was staying in this hellhole.

The shrill sound of the rising bell pierced the early morning quietude. Rowan turned towards the slit window set high in the wall and, squinting through the iron bars, could glimpse the cold grey of early morning. Climbing out of bed, she watched in horror as the other women staggered about the room like drunkards, automatically pulling off nightclothes and donning uniforms. Remembering Ma Steeples' warning, Rowan carefully tucked all her hair up under her cap and made sure the sleeve of her dress was covering her ribbon, although that wasn't difficult for the sleeves were so long they almost covered her hands entirely. She heard the click as the door was unlocked and looked up to see Sharp standing there, hands on her hips, sneer on her lips.

‘Right, you lot, piss pots at the ready,' she ordered. Immediately, the ladies picked up their gazunders and shuffled into a line. ‘Get a move on, loon, or you'll get no breakfast,' Sharp barked, and realizing the woman meant her, Rowan hurried to join them.

Outside they were joined by women from the adjacent dormitory, along with their warder. Then they were marched along a narrow, dingy corridor until they came to the sluice room. Rowan held her breath as the stench of human waste hit her nostrils. Hurriedly she emptied her pot and placed it carefully on the stone floor alongside the others.

Then
it was on to the washroom, which looked like the troughs on the farm only not as clean. Gritting her teeth, she put her hands into the icy water, and using the rough slab of lye, which was being passed from woman to woman, Rowan scrubbed vigorously. She was determined to be acknowledged as clean, for her stomach was rumbling and she needed her breakfast. Sustenance was vital if she were to keep her wits about her. Sensing she was being watched, she looked up to see Sharp staring at her in a way that made her stomach turn. Quickly she joined one of the two queues waiting to be inspected. Rowan's heart started beating like the clappers on bells as she stood there, for only now did she notice she was in Sharp's line and could see the woman was being less than gentle. The thought of being touched by that dreadful woman made her feel sick, but the warden was making her way down the line and there was no avoiding whatever she had in store.

Finally, it was Rowan's turn to be examined. Swallowing hard, she stepped on to the inspection step but as Sharp's hands reached out towards her, another warden appeared and whispered something in her ear. Sharp's face tightened with annoyance and, giving Rowan a malevolent look, she hurried away. Her replacement, a milder woman, merely gave Rowan a cursory glance before nodding and passing on to the next woman.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Rowan followed the file of women down the narrow flight of stairs and into the dining hall. There were two long tables the length of the room with a spoon and basin set at each place. She watched as the others automatically seated themselves in line, and took the next available space on the rough wooden bench. Turning to the woman next to her, she gave a tentative smile. Encouraged when she smiled back, Rowan introduced herself.

‘Hello, I'm Rowan. What's the food like here?' she asked.

‘Good to meet you, Rowan, but it could be under better circumstances,' the woman quipped. ‘I'm known as Simple Susan, and the food here is as dreadful as it looks. If Sharp asks you what you want, say the opposite and you might be lucky,' she whispered.

‘What
would you like to eat today, Simple Susan?' Sharp asked, materializing behind them.

‘Porridge,' Susan answered, only to be passed a slice of bread and scrape.

‘What about you, loon?' Sharp hissed in Rowan's ear.

‘Bread and scrape, please,' she answered, and sure enough a dollop of porridge was ladled into her basin, just as she'd hoped.

‘See what I mean?' Susan whispered. ‘It's always the same when she's on duty.' Rowan went to answer, but the stodgy porridge was sticking to the roof of her mouth and she couldn't. She tried to swallow but the lump was stuck fast in her throat. Frantically, she stared around for something to drink, but couldn't see any mugs of water on the table. With tears streaming and her breath coming in gasps, she gripped the edge of her seat. As the room spun around her, no one seemed to notice her distress. Heads bent over their basins, the other women just continued eating.

Suddenly Rowan felt a thump between her shoulder blades and the lump of porridge shot out of her mouth, landing on the table in front of her. Relieved she could breathe again, she looked up to see Susan standing behind her, a worried frown creasing her forehead.

‘Thought you was going to pass out,' she said. ‘Then you'd have copped it.'

Rowan took a couple of deep breaths, the room stopped spinning and she was able to smile her thanks. Then, as the woman went to sit down again, Rowan noticed the way her dress was straining over her swollen abdomen. A surreptitious glance revealed no ring on her
finger, and Rowan realized the stories she'd heard about unmarried mothers being locked away must be true.

‘Yeah, I'm a wicked wanton,' Susan whispered, seeing Rowan's look. ‘But believe you me, I'm paying for it now. Quick, get that cleared up; Sharp's headed this way,' she hissed. Rowan reached out and scooped up the mess, but as she went to put it back in the basin, Susan shook her head. ‘Hide it or she'll force you to eat it in front of everyone,' she whispered.

Rowan had only just covered it with her basin when Sharp peered over her shoulder.

‘Not hungry, loon?' she taunted. ‘Perhaps you need some help?'

‘No, I'm managing fine, thank you,' Rowan stuttered, picking up her spoon.

‘Hmm, well, when you've finished here, take a turn about the airing courts and then come and see me. I will then tell you which duties I've decided to assign you to,' she smirked, before moving further down the room and shouting, ‘Right, you horrible lot, time to clear away.'

As one, the women rose and began collecting up their basins.

‘Lift your bowl,' Susan whispered, then deftly scraped the porridge from underneath it. Flipping it into her own basin, she carefully placed Rowan's on top, then added them to the growing pile on the table. ‘Come on, we're not on clearing-up duty so let's scarper while Sharp's not looking,' she urged.

Rowan followed her down a flight of stairs and outside, on to what looked like a rough field. It was enclosed by a grey granite stone wall so high she couldn't see over it.
The sky above and the slight breeze were the only indications they were actually out of doors. Although the day was overcast, it was bright compared to the dingy darkness of inside, and she stood there for a few moments blinking like a barn owl in daylight. Then, as if a signal had been given, the women started marching around the field in a clockwise direction, chanting, ‘
Healthy body, healthy mind
,' over and over again. Seeing Rowan's bemused look, Susan laughed.

‘This is exercise time, the best part of the day. Just make sure you say their blooming mantra of healthy body, healthy mind as you go past the guards. In between, we can get to know each other. What have you been put in here for?' she asked, her blue eyes curious.

‘Sad mania, I think the receiving officer said it was,' she answered, trying to remember his exact words.

‘Blimey, must be catching. It seems to me nearly everyone here's got that. Apart from me, the wanton one, that is.' They were interrupted by a high-pitched scream coming from the other side of the wall. It sounded like an animal in distress and Rowan's eyes widened in horror.

‘What was that dreadful noise?' she asked.

‘That'll be from the men's airing courts,' Susan said. ‘
Healthy body, healthy mind
,' she chanted loudly, digging Rowan in the ribs. ‘Keep it up till we're past old Pearce over there,' she muttered, jerking her head to the right.

Peering over, Rowan could see another uniformed woman watching them keenly. There would be no chance of escaping, she thought, her heart sinking. The prospect of spending another night in that dreadful dorm locked
up with wailing women sent shivers down her spine. Susan jabbed her in the side again, interrupting her reverie.

‘Guards watching,' she hissed.

‘
Healthy body, healthy mind, healthy body, healthy mind
,' Rowan chanted.

‘All clear,' Susan said. ‘Now, what was I saying?'

‘You were going to tell me what that dreadful scream was,' Rowan reminded her.

‘Oh, that.' Susan shrugged. ‘I expect it came from one of the really sick men. Probably one of those who've got syphilis. Sends them right out of their minds, literally. Serves them right; the dirty buggers,' she added with feeling.

Not really understanding, Rowan just nodded.

‘Course, there's some who'd say I was just as bad. Except I really love Charles and he loves me too.'

‘I didn't know there were men here as well,' said Rowan, her mind still on that terrible scream.

‘Oh, yes, and there's more of them than us women. The guards keep us segregated. Probably so they can't get their filthy paws on us. Now my Charles, he's a real gent …' she broke off.

‘
Healthy body, healthy mind
,' they intoned in unison. They had finished yet another turn of the courts and marched past the guards before Susan spoke again.

‘I'm sure they think if we say it often enough, we'll believe it,' she said with a grin.

‘You were telling me about your Charles,' Rowan prompted.

‘Oh, yes, Charles. I was her lady's maid up at Hattersham Hall. Charles said he fell for me the moment he
saw me combing out his mother's hair. Of course, he should never have entered her chamber, but that's Charlie for you. Always ignores the rules. He could charm the bees from their hive, that one. He treated me just like a princess,' Susan said, sighing. ‘Trouble was, when her ladyship found I was in the family way, she was furious. She gave me a right dressing-down and accused me of leading Charles on. As if Charles needed any encouragement, the devil. Anyway, when Charles had to go away on business, she arranged for me to be sent here. Still, I know when he returns and finds I've gone, he will come for me.'

Privately, Rowan had her doubts. Were all men weak, she wondered, thinking about her father and the conclusion she'd come to the previous night.

‘
Healthy body, healthy mind
,' Susan intoned, digging Rowan in the ribs so hard, she stumbled. ‘Careful, girl,' she muttered. ‘It don't do to draw attention to yourself.'

‘It's these boots, they're far too big,' Rowan protested.

‘Well you're only a tiny tiddler. How old are you, anyway?' Susan asked.

‘Fifteen.'

‘Blimey, didn't think they could commit girls that young. What was it you were accused of exactly?'

‘Dancing and digging in the moonlight, making lotions and potions, chanting, that sort of thing,' Rowan said, still not understanding what she'd done that was wrong.

‘Well, you'd better get chanting now
. Healthy body, healthy mind
,' Susan intoned in a loud voice.

‘
Healthy body, healthy mind
,' Rowan muttered, risking a glance at the other women, but they were all staring at the
ground as they marched and chanted in unison. Rowan shuddered. It was unnerving to see the effects institution life was having on them.

‘Well, if you can perform magic, Rowan, for God's sake do a spell and get both of us out of this place, will you?' Susan laughed, only half joking. ‘I'm that fed up. Every bleeding day's the same.' She was interrupted by the strident jangling of the bell. ‘Oh, blimey, here we go, time for work. Don't forget, when you go and see Sharp for your duties, say the opposite of where you want to be. Sewing room's the best but I wasn't given any choice. They put me in the bakehouse saying it will prepare me for motherhood. Like they'd let me keep the baby anyway,' she said with a bitter laugh. ‘Still, my Charlie will have come for me by then,' she said, brightening.

‘Hurry up, over there,' the guard snapped.

‘See you back here this afternoon,' Susan whispered, as they promptly joined the line of women filing indoors.

‘There you are, loon,' Sharp said, appearing at Rowan's side. ‘Follow me,' she ordered, disappearing along the corridor at her usual fast pace. Rowan tried to keep up but the rigid, ill-fitting boots were rubbing and she could already feel blisters forming. ‘Keep up, loon. We haven't got all day,' the wardress called.

Rowan was shown into a small, neat office where Sharp promptly took a seat behind the desk and began sorting through a pile of papers. Rowan stood trying not to fidget as the woman showed no sign of hurrying. In fact, she looked so pompous and full of self-importance that Rowan had a sudden vision of her in an ill-fitting dress, marching around the airing courts chanting, ‘
Need good
manners, need good manners'.
It was such a vivid picture, she felt her lips twitch.

‘Finding this amusing, are you, loon?' Sharp asked, looking up suddenly.

‘No,' Rowan answered quickly.

‘Well, a hard day's work will soon wipe that smile off your face. How does a day of cleaning and scrubbing appeal?' she asked, grinning.

‘Actually I would find that very satisfying,' Rowan answered, trying to look as if she meant it. ‘There's nothing more rewarding than seeing a lovely, clean room, or a pile of sparkling dishes.'

‘Well, hard luck, loon,' Sharp smirked. ‘I've decided I'm going to assign you to the sewing room.' Rowan hid a smile, silently thanking Susan for her advice. ‘In fact, loon, the hem on my other dress is hanging down so you can start with that,' she said, getting to her feet.

Once again, Rowan found herself following after the straight-backed woman. This time, though, after descending the worn steps, instead of turning left, Sharp turned right. As Rowan hurried to keep up, her boots flapping against her feet, a high-pitched squeal rent the air. Her eyes widened in fear. Someone was in real distress. Abruptly, Sharp came to a halt outside a thick wooden door, bolted both top and bottom. Sure she could hear the clanking of chains, Rowan gulped.

‘Take a look in there, loon,' she ordered, pulling back a tiny hatch and shoving Rowan up towards it. Inside, she could just make out the deformed body of a man, writhing in agony, his eyes frenzied like someone with a fever. He was howling in distress and desperately trying to pull
away from the chains that were holding him fast to the wall. ‘Syphilis,' Sharp spat. ‘That's what men get for forcing their lustful bodies on poor defenceless women,' she added, with a satisfied smirk. Rowan swallowed hard and automatically backed away. As Sharp snapped the hatch door shut and turned to go back the way they'd just come, a man's voice boomed out of the gloom.

‘Stop where you are.'

‘Damn,' Sharp muttered. Rowan jumped as a burly guard emerged from the shadows.

‘Sharp, what are you doing here? You know the men's quarters are out of bounds for females.'