Three Round Towers (23 page)

Cecilia and I had fallen into our old ways except that Farmer Elwood was almost beside himself with anxiety, which made things nerve-wracking at times. I made a pot of chamomile tea for him, hoping it would calm him down, but he wasn't too keen on drinking herbal tea no matter how much I explained its qualities. In the end he seemed to calm knowing that I was physically taking care of Cecilia. She would get up late and I would make her comfortable in her sitting room before setting off on Flossy to Lewes for just a couple of hours. During the afternoon we would sew for the new baby. I would examine her bump to see where the baby was lying and whether the head was descending. Everything seemed as it should be and the baby was of good size so I had no hesitation in offering reassurance to Cecilia and John Elwood.

We had one moment of fright when Cecilia had a letter from her mother saying that she thought to come and stay until the birth, I don't know who was the more horrified, Cecilia, John Elwood or me. Fortunately for us, a more interesting social engagement got in the way and she didn't come, but it felt like a close call.

We spent a great many days in restful calm, the weather was benign, there was no great turbulence in the town and the spectre of hunger had receded as the crops were gathered in. When I was able I did some bottling and preserving, activities that I really enjoyed, they appealed to my need to store up food in a time of plenty for the cold winter days when there was no fruit to be had for love nor money. Wilf would call almost every day and I was happy.

A new week dawned and I went to Lewes to help Dr Grieve run his surgery. Mrs Fisher was looking after Cecilia with Farmer Elwood working on the farm. I took lunch together with Mr and Mrs Jenkins and listened to all the town gossip from the housekeeper and news from the doctor. On my way home I called in to see Mrs Makepiece and told her all the news from both households.

Keere Street was too steep for me to ride Flossy so Billy-alone stayed waiting with her at the bottom of the hill and when I got back to him he said that I was needed urgently. ‘Well, why didn't you come and get me? Where am I to go?'

‘The poor house.'

‘Why?'

‘The guv'nor there says you have to come as there is a girl askin' for you. It be that Molly I reckon.'

I clambered onto Flossy's back and we set off at a smart pace. The overseer was waiting, his woman too. Billy hung back.

‘Where is she?' I asked.

‘Her be not right,' was all he said, nodding towards a room just inside the door.

There was very little natural light and I shouted for them to bring me candles or rushes. A young girl obliged and I was able to see that it was Molly lying on a pallet. The stench of human misery surrounded her, blood, sweat and soiling. She was clearly dead and the baby still within her. I sank to my knees in the dirt and made her decent, she was pretty now the anger had gone from her face and she looked at peace as I pulled her bedraggled dark hair down to frame her face. I wished I could say some words but nothing would come and, what for? She wouldn't hear them and sometimes I couldn't believe there was a God to listen.

I called for Billy, he was at the door looking shamefaced. ‘I's sorry, I just didna' want to come back here. Was it my fault she died?'

‘Help me up Billy, please, no it wasn't your fault. I don't think anyone could have saved her, but I would have tried if that fool outside had called me much earlier.' I brushed the mess from my clothes and used my hanky to wipe the stains from my hands. ‘Do you know how long she has been here?'

The overseer had come in and replied in a sullen manner.

‘She came in two days since when her pains started. We did our best and put her in here on 'er own, nice and peaceful, like.'

I looked at him and felt a rising anger.

‘Did you not think to call a doctor or a woman experienced in childbirth?'

‘No doctor gonna come to the likes of she and nobody else was about.' His eyes were bloodshot and I could smell drink over and above the odours of his body.

‘Did you not even try to help her?'

‘Course I did, I brought her water and bread but she never wanted nuffink.'

‘You are disgusting and I will speak to Dr Grieve about the way you run this place.'

‘Don't you come 'ere and nag at me. 'Oo do you think you are, just because you be the doctor's bit of skirt, you're no better than the rest of us.' He spat at my feet before stomping off.

‘Don't listen to him Esther, 'ee be a nasty old bugger and he'll say anything to get a rise.'

I was so shocked by his comment but it was as nothing compared to my anger at this waste of a life, nay, two lives. I was sickened by the lack of humanity.

Billy and I returned to Dr Grieve's as he was the coroner. Fortunately he was in and listened to my furious account of the cruel deaths. God, how she must have suffered.

‘Esther, your sentiments do you justice but you shouldn't put yourself and Cecilia at risk by going into these places.'

I was aghast, ‘Risk, what risk?'

‘These people live in the depths of dirt and disease and you could carry such on your hands and clothes into the houses of good people who should not be contaminated.'

‘That girl was as clean as you and me not a few days since, it was having to go into that filthy place, that this town pays for and supports, that brought her so low and no one, no one thought to get her help until it was too late. If they had called you, Dr Grieve, would you have gone to her aid?' I challenged.

‘That is not the point.'

‘It is the point. Because she was poor, and an inconvenience, you and all others turn your backs.' I gasped, a sob in my throat, I turned and left the house. Billy and I returned to South Farm in silence.

When we got to the stable I asked one of the stable boys to fetch Cilla for me. She brought me a change of clothes to replace those that might have been contaminated as Dr Grieve put it. I used one of the tack rooms to change after I had washed my hands thoroughly in some cold water with saddle soap. I don't know why Molly died and I supposed, on reflection, that the doctor had a point, but realistically it was probably because she had too long a labour and became weakened to the point of death. I had to get up to my room and complete my toilet with my own soaps, after that, I would try and think through what had happened and what the overseer had meant by his crude barb.

Cilla helped me get to my room without meeting anyone and brought me hot water and a drink. I stripped myself and washed thoroughly, I scrubbed my hands and nails until they bled, and I was satisfied that I couldn't possibly harbour any disease. Cilla was going to put my clothes into the boiler. I couldn't afford to throw them away, I had very little and perhaps I should use some of my wages to buy a working dress and stout pinafore that could be washed easily.

When I finished I sat on my bed and allowed Cilla to bring Beth in, she had been wailing in the kitchen because I had not been able to pick her up. ‘Ssh, ssh, mummy is here now,' I cuddled and kissed her wet little face and wiped her nose. As I clutched her to me I thought how lucky we had both been that Becca had managed to give birth with no complications.

Later, after supper, I told Cecilia what had happened and what the overseer had said to me. I got angry again as I described the poor girl's fate and that of the unborn baby.

Cecilia was shocked and upset and perhaps I shouldn't have told her about it when she was due to give birth within a month and remembering her firstborn had died. I apologised for burdening her but she said she was no lily liver and knew the facts of most people's existence and the hardship they bore. John Elwood came in and we changed the subject as he would likely have the same attitude as Dr Grieve. I believe it was that night that I had the beginning of an idea to create a safe place for women, high or low born, where they could give birth with proper care.

As for the overseer's comment about my relationship with Dr Grieve, she just laughed it off and said that people like him looked for muck to spread and no normal, decent, person was likely to think there was any impropriety.

The next day I told Wilf about his former sweetheart's tragic death and he was a bit shamefaced at the hard words we had had about her. He was, however, in agreement with Dr Grieve, that I should take care if going into unclean places. I resolved to take a change of clothing with me in future should I be called to help anyone. Farmer Elwood must have heard about it all from someone because he reminded me that I was at South Farm to help his wife, and no one else.

Once it had all blown over Dr Grieve told me that Molly's baby was in the wrong position in the womb and that would have explained the protracted labour. The poor girl was buried in a pauper's grave with her babe still inside her. I did not go to the funeral but I did go and see her mother at Telscombe. Wilf came with me. I only stayed a few minutes just long enough to see that the mother was hard and bitter that her daughter would no longer provide for her. There was clearly no love between them and the mother's concerns were entirely selfish. Just as I was about to leave she hissed at me that if I had not come along and taken Wilf from her daughter all would have been well. Wilf had been standing just outside the door and overheard her. He pushed up to the woman and told her in no uncertain terms that the girl's condition was brought on by her own actions and he would never have married her, even if the carpenter had not arrived to turn her head. We rode home to South Farm and agreed to put this unhappy story behind us.

It was not long after this awful incident that I heard of another death, one more closely linked to me. My smuggling guard, Digger, had been found with his throat cut. I mourned briefly for him because, at the very end of the trial when my aunt was declaring that it was just my word against hers, with no collaborating evidence, he had come forward and supported the accuracy of my story. It was my testimony that had damned my aunt to transportation and without Digger I felt sure she would still be in the country to hound me. Digger, more than most, knew what the smugglers were capable of, and was probably expecting some sort of retribution. Nonetheless, he had been kind to me when I was absolutely terrified for my life. Poor Digger, I shed tears for him.

When I heard of his murder I wondered how long the ramifications of that awful time were to go on. I also wondered fearfully who my father was. Could it be possible that my mother and father had hidden her shame at being taken by her own father? I wished I could talk to someone about this but it was so shameful I didn't know who to talk to. If Wilf and I had children would they be of normal physique and intelligence or showing the mark of incest? My only solution so far was to go to where I had been born, a small village in Kent, and see if my parents' marriage was registered in the parish church ledger and the date. My birthday had been celebrated in our house, as was my younger brother's, but who is to say that the birthday I was told was accurate. Again, the solution might be in the register at our church.

I wouldn't want anyone to think I lived in permanent crisis because I didn't, mostly my days were active and fulfilling especially when I helped Dr Grieve with his patients. Increasingly, he trusted me to do things properly, without him having to look over my shoulder. He was a good teacher and explained the purpose of every action. My nature was always to be clean but he took cleanliness to what others might consider extreme levels. It was so exhilarating to be party to his knowledge and observe his skills in real situations. Recently, I had begun to copy his notes with a fair hand and I was of real help to him in transcribing his spidery writing and annotations into detailed records for each patient.

We never discussed the moment when I had criticised his choice of clients in favour of those who paid. But, I think I must have pricked his conscience as he occasionally agreed to see those who had no money. Usually, he passed them on to me for practical treatment, but it was a start.

Cecilia was almost at her term and she looked very healthy though a trifle ungainly. We had agreed on a gentle plan of exercise – we walked as far as the orchard and back when the weather was fine. I was fast asleep one chilly morning when I was awoken by John, it was still dark with no sign of the coming dawn and I was cold even under my blankets. Autumn was well under way and the first frosts tinged the grass with sugarlike trails.

‘Esther, wake up, Cecilia needs you.' It had begun.

Once I had worked out that the birth was not going to happen for a while yet I went back and dressed myself in the work dress I had recently purchased. I asked John to send a message to Dr Grieve that the contractions were well spaced at the moment and would he please come after his breakfast, then we all sat around waiting. We tried to allay Cecilia's fears and did everything possible to keep her calm, even playing cards. The baby was perfectly positioned for birth and Cecilia was young and healthy so it was all in her head that there might be problems. I told them both that every birth was very different and what happened last time need have no relation this time and so it proved because once the doctor arrived things moved on quite quickly. John Elwood went downstairs and left us to it and within just a few hours of full labour we were able to deliver a big strong boy, as healthy as you could wish for. We were all very emotional and many joyful tears were shed by the entire household. John was thrilled – his pride in his son was immeasurable and Cecilia was his clever girl, as she was mine.

The next two days were a whirr of congratulatory visitors and tenants who all came to pay their respects to the Elwoods. A message had been despatched to Cecilia's mother who thankfully, was unwell with a bronchial condition, and couldn't therefore descend on the household.

Gradually, we all settled into a routine that revolved round young Master Frederic Elwood, who was named for his late paternal grandpapa. Cecilia blossomed into motherhood and it did not take long for her to regain her strength despite Farmer Elwood trying to mollycoddle her. Beth loved her little man and whenever possible tried to supervise his bathing. I think Cecilia's mama was disapproving that she fed the baby herself but I thought it the best thing and I know it gave her great joy. We talked about it a lot and felt very sorry for the society ladies who employed a wet-nurse. Dr Grieve said that some women would prefer to keep their figures than feed their babies.