Trapped In She Town : A Romantic Novella (The Jute Mills Series) (6 page)

Mary felt sick all
day, but she managed to get though her chores and attend to Miss Lucy, then
towards the end of the day she heard some news that made her feel even better.

“Mr Edward finally
leaves for Calcutta next week” Mr Giles reported to all the staff in the
kitchen that evening, and it was all Mary could do to stop herself from
shouting “Hurrah!”.

The week flew by
without Edward bothering her at all as he prepared for his departure. He seemed
to have lost interest and Mary was thankful for small mercies.

Two months later
however, Mary was still being sick in the mornings, and she put this down to
her pining for George. She knew he would probably never want her now because
she was soiled, but she still felt a huge betrayal at his marrying Beth. He had
seemed so sincere to Mary. How could she have fallen for his sweet talking when
all along he had wanted her sister? Mary decided that she obviously did not
understand men and was better off without them.

Bessie however had
worked out the real reason for her sickness.

 “Mary is that you
letting out the seam on your dress again” she asked one evening.

“I know, goodness
knows where all this weight is coming from as I am run ragged up and down these
stairs some days” Mary trilled.

“Come on Mary, stop
playing the fool with me. We all know what’s going on. Everyone downstairs is
talking.” Bessie replied sternly. “You’d better watch out or the mistress will
hear of it soon.”

“What are you talking
about?” Mary asked bewildered. “The mistress will hear of what?” All of a
sudden a feeling of dread settled over Mary.

“Mary,” Bessie spoke
softly “it’s obvious you’re in the baby way and the mistress will not accept
relationships between the servants.”

“What do you mean?
Relationships between servants?” Mary queried.

“You and John. He is
the father I presume.”

“No, he is not the
father. There is no baby.” she stormed. “Mind your own business Bessie and
don’t mess about in mine.”

But, all of a sudden
with a feeling of horror, Mary became aware that Bessie was right in one thing.
She must be pregnant. However the father was not John – it was Edward. And
again she felt a well of disgust.

Bessie saw the shock
and surprise come over Mary’s face and she spoke quietly to her.

“You didn’t realize,
did you pet. My god Mary, you’re an innocent all right. I’m surprised you and
John knew what to do.”

She giggled but then
turned serious again. “You are going to have to leave the house you know. As I
said many times before, the mistress won’t allow relationships between us servants.
You need to speak with John. He’ll do the right thing by you.”

“But Bessie, I didn’t
do anything with John. I didn’t do anything wrong” she burst into tears.

After a while she
calmed down enough to tell a horrified Bessie the truth.

 “Oh Mary, I’m so
sorry.”

“Surely if I tell the
mistress she will let me stay. It is her grandchild after all” Mary queried.

Bessie had a grim look
on her face. “I wouldn’t count on it Mary. Don’t do anything rash now.”

But Mary had decided
on her plan of action. She would tell Miss Lucy first. Miss Lucy who empathised
with all the heroines in the novels she read, she would see what a cad her
brother had been. She would then break the news to her mother, gently putting
Mary’s point of view forward. Mary would then be allowed some time to lie in
for the birth, and once the baby was born she would get back to work. Yes,
things would work out just fine. She had to face her problems head on.

So the very next
evening when Mary was reading to Miss Lucy in her room, she stopped at the end
of the chapter and asked Miss Lucy if she could talk to her on a very private
matter.

She explained her
predicament to Miss Lucy and her brother, Edward’s part in it.

Miss Lucy turned pale
and looked away from Mary with a horrified look on her face. She then asked
Mary to leave her, and so Mary quickly jumped up and went to finish her usual
duties around the room before retiring.

“No Mary. Leave that
this evening. Please just retire now.” And Mary confusedly left the room.

In bed later that
night Mary went over and over what she had said to Miss Lucy earlier, and Miss
Lucy’s subsequent reaction. Mary however misread Lucy’s horrified reaction as
an empathetic one, and fell asleep consoled that tomorrow the whole mess would
be sorted out.

When Mary arrived
downstairs in the morning to start her duties she wasn’t surprised that Giles
was waiting for her and asked her to step into his room. He had a little office
room next to the kitchen and across the hall from the housekeeper’s room, where
Mary usually ate with Bessie and Mrs Smythe, the housekeeper.

However, Mary was
shellshocked when Giles informed her in a brisk manner, that she was being
dismissed with immediate effect for gross misconduct and lies.

“But I haven’t lied. I
just told Miss Lucy the truth” she protested.

“I’m sorry Mary, but
there is nothing any of us can do.” Giles continued. “Mr Muir is away in
Calcutta and Mrs Muir is in charge. What made you think the mistress would take
your side against her son and heir. She wants you out of the house before she
rises for breakfast this morning.

Mary stared at him in
fear.

“There is nothing to
be done Mary.” he continued. “Perhaps, you should have spoken to Mrs Smythe
before it got this far.”

She was given a week’s
wages and told to go upstairs and pack her bag immediately. She was not to talk
to any of the other servants. They were all busy going about their duties
anyway, and Bessie had been bustled into the housekeeper’s room by Mrs Smythe
as soon as she had come downstairs that morning.

Once outside on the
pavement in Strathern Road, her little battered suitcase holding her few
belongings, Mary didn’t know which way to turn. She looked at the little bit of
paper Mrs Bean had pushed into her hand as she left. On it was an address. Of
what though, she did not know. It seemed like the only option she had. So she
wandered down to the tram stop, but then thought better of it, and started to
walk towards Dundee. She didn’t want to waste any money on trams as she didn’t
know how or when she would be able to earn any more.

When she got close to
the town, she stopped a lady who was hurrying past and asked her if she could
direct her to the address on the bit of paper. She looked at it and shook her
head. “Sorry lass, I’ve no idea where that is.”

So Mary carried on
towards the centre of town, and the next person she asked exclaimed loudly “Oh!
That’ll be the poorhouse yer wantin. I can see why too”. The woman looked
knowingly at the bulge showing through Mary’s coat.

“The poorhouse!
Never!” thought Mary horrified. But where else could she go?

She knew she could not
go back home to Aberdeenshire in her condition. The shame would be too much and
she could not bear to see the happy faces of George and Beth. Where else could
she go?

The woman was now
giving her directions up the hill towards Stobswell, but Mary carried on
towards the centre of Dundee and soon came upon a noisy market. She bought
herself some bread. She needed to keep her strength up she thought, for her
baby. “It’s just you and me now, my darling little boy.” she whispered.  Mary
seemed to know that it was a boy growing day by day inside her, and although
she thought with disgust about the start of the baby’s life, she loved the
growing baby in her belly with all her heart.

In the afternoon, she
decided she may as well wander in the direction of Stobswell, although there
was no way she was going to the poorhouse, she thought.

As she walked up the
Hilltown in the growing darkness, she heard a shrill whistle, and then from a
large gate up ahead, hundreds of women and children with a few men interspersed
here and there, started pouring out into the streets. They were all gabbing
away to each other, and Mary pressed herself back against the wall as they
streamed past in all directions. As quickly as they came out, they had all
disappeared up the hill and into the tenement closes, or into the public
houses. Some of the children remained in the street playing with each other.

There was a public
house at the end of the road, and Mary went inside where it was warm. She sat
at a table near the door, hoping the burly barman would not spot her, and
wondered where to go next?

The woman at the next
table started talking to her. She was dressed quite gaudily in bright clothes.

“Not seen you round ‘ere
before. Ye new?” she asked Mary.

Mary nodded and
replied “I need somewhere to stay the night. Do you know of any place?”

The woman, whose name
was Aggie, told her there was a rooming house around the corner.

“D’ye have the money
to pay the rent?” Aggie asked, and Mary nodded her head in reply.

“Then go ask fir Rab.
The beds are clean enough. It’s whaur I stay and entertain” she smiled a
toothless smile before heading over to a group of men at the bar. Mary finished
her drink and as she left, she saw the woman heading towards the back door of
the public house with one of the men following closely behind.

The room Mary got was
clean as Aggie had promised, however it cost Mary a fifth of the money she had
left, so she knew she would have to get a job soon. In the morning she spoke
with some of her neighbours, from the other rooms of the house, and soon
discovered that most of them were prostitutes.

“Ye’d make a lot o’
money Mary, wi that bonny chestnut hair o’ yours” they told her. “How else ye
gonna support yersel and the bairn?”

“Coorse ye’d hae tae
wait til the bairn wiz oot. No many wud want ye while yer in the puddin’ club”
one of them cackled.

Mary knew she could
never earn money that way; however she found that when she went to the jute
mills to ask for a job, they told her to come back after her baby was born.

So, later that week,
Mary found herself huddled in a doorway to sleep, when she had finally run out
of money. She had watched until the shopkeeper of the little bakery had shut up
for the night, and then crouched down in the corner clutching her suitcase to
her. She was absolutely terrified, but finally managed to drift off into sleep
around midnight, as the noise from the street started to die down.

Suddenly, she was
awake again. A dirty tramp was fondling her and she bit his hand and jumped up
as quickly as she could, and ran away with him shouting curses after her.

Mary kept running and
running until she could run no more, with her baby inside complaining and
kicking. A painful stitch was hurting in her side, and she sat below a tree
until she got her breath back. She was in a country lane on the outskirts of
Dundee. She suddenly realised that she had left her case behind in her haste to
get away from the filthy old man. She could still feel his hands on her breasts
and smell his rancid odour.

Mary started to sob
for the first time since she left the house – she sobbed and sobbed. For her
lost virginity; for her lost sweetheart; for her lost family; for her lost home
and now for her lost possessions. Everything she owned was in that small
battered suitcase and now all she had were the clothes she stood in. The little
money she had left for food was gone too, wrapped in her thick stockings at the
bottom of her case.

Mary did not move
until the dawn started to appear. She got to her feet once again and headed
back towards the smog of Dundee. She had no choice now, she would have to go
and take her chances at the poorhouse. Or else, she and her baby would starve.

~~~

When she presented
herself at the poorhouse in Mains Loan, she was asked to take a seat and wait.
About an hour later the governor arrived and took Mary into an interview room.
They sat on hard wooden benches. Mary explained her circumstances and she was
told she would be placed in a probationary ward until a decision was made on
whether she would be admitted to the workhouse or not.

A severe-looking,
older woman then told her to come with her, and Mary followed behind, along a stark
corridor with bare walls and peeling, light blue paint. She was led into a
bathroom where she was told to strip then bathe. After drying herself she put
on a workhouse uniform. This consisted of a coarse shapeless woollen gown with
a smock over, a cap, worsted stockings and woven slippers.

Once dressed, she was
led back along the corridor and up two flights of stairs to a long room with
six beds running down the walls on either side. She was shown to a little
single bed about halfway down the room on the left hand side. This was now her
home she thought desolately. This little bed and the clothes she stood in was
all she had in the world.

Mary would rise at
six, along with all the inmates, usually after a disturbed night listening to
the wails and moans of the other residents. After a breakfast of bread and gruel,
the residents would be forced to leave the workhouse. If they didn’t have a job
to go to, then they would have to wander the streets until returning for dinner
at 12 noon. Dinner consisted of pickled pork or bacon with potatoes and
vegetables. A supper of bread, cheese and broth was served at six in the
evening with inmates being ushered to bed at eight.