Without Sin (32 page)

‘Did you know about this?’ Philip asked the matron at once.

Letitia shook her head. ‘No. I had no idea. Isaac’s never said . . .’ She glanced around, her eyes fearful that they were somehow blaming her for Sarah’s illness. Then
she added more briskly, ‘I’ll come with you, Doctor, if I may.’

‘Of course. Come along, my pony and trap are in the yard.’ He glanced at the others, all turned to stone by the news. ‘Does anyone else want a ride back to the workhouse?
You’ll have to be quick.’

The two young girls scurried to get their shawls and Letitia bustled after them to find her own as Philip turned to his wife. ‘My dear—’ he began but Louisa interrupted, laying
her hand on his arm. ‘I can see myself home. You must go at once with Albert.’

Jake moved stiffly as if coming back to life after the shock. ‘I’ll – I’ll see Miss – Mrs Collins home, Doctor.’

‘No, really—’ Louisa began, but Jake interrupted. ‘It’s all right. I’ll have to go into the town anyway. I’ll have to tell Meg.’

No one spoke and the happiness fell away from Betsy’s face.

‘I don’t believe you. It’s all a tale to get me to come and see her.’

Jake eyed Meg with disgust. ‘Do you really think I’d joke – play a game – with your mother’s life? She’s ill, I tell you. Old Albert came to the farm to fetch
the doctor.’

‘What was the doctor doing there?’

Jake sighed. ‘If you must know, we were all there. At a party. Betsy’s fourteen today.’

‘Oh, very nice,’ Meg said sarcastically, her eyes flashing. ‘Very cosy.’

Jake’s mouth hardened but he couldn’t hide the hurt in his dark brown eyes. ‘Well,’ he said sharply. ‘Are you coming?’

‘I can’t. Percy’s going to Nottingham tomorrow to order stock. I’ve things to do.’

‘I’ll wait for you.’

‘No need. I’m quite capable of walking up to the workhouse by myself.’

‘But I want to make sure you go.’ Jake was belligerent.

‘Don’t you trust me?’ Her tone was skittish, but Jake’s was blunt. ‘No, I don’t.’

Her face darkened. ‘Well, you’re right. I’m not going. I’ve Percy’s meal to prepare and his suitcase to pack. He’s staying overnight.’

Jake stepped forward and gripped her arm roughly. ‘You’re just making excuses. Percy Rodwell’s not the sort of man to make a fuss when he knows your mam’s ill. You
can’t fool me, Meg. You don’t want to go. That’s the truth of it, isn’t it?’

She thrust her face close to his, spitting the words out. ‘Yes, yes, yes. That’s the truth. I don’t want to go. I don’t
want
to see her and I’m not
going
to see her.’

‘And what,’ he asked her quietly, ‘happens if she dies? How will you feel then?’

There was silence between them as, close together, they glared into each other’s eyes. Then she shook off his grip and turned away. ‘Then I’ll have to deal with it, won’t
I?’

There was nothing more he could do, nothing more he could say to persuade her. Jake turned away from her, sick at heart. He did not go home to the farm but trudged towards the looming shape of
the workhouse, the place he had once called ‘home’. He marvelled at how different his life was now and wondered how he had stuck it in that place for so long. But then, he reminded
himself, he had known no different. He still might not have done, if it hadn’t been for Meg.

He groaned and tried to close his mind to her. He didn’t want to think of Meg now.

Albert was back in his lodge and he opened the gate to Jake. ‘I’ve come to see how Mrs Kirkland is.’

The old man shook his head. ‘She’s badly. They’ve moved her across to the infirmary. Matron’s with her, but they reckon—’ He wiped his mouth with the back of
his hand, glanced at Jake and then looked down at the ground. ‘See, lad, I didn’t like to say back there – at the farm – but it seems she tried to take her own life. Slashed
her wrists, they say. There’s blood everywhere – up in his room.’

‘Oh no,’ Jake breathed and stood just inside the gate, uncertain what to do next. He glanced up at the windows of the master’s rooms. ‘Is
he
here?’

‘Nah. Been away all day.’ He gestured with his head. ‘She knew when to pick her time to do it. Thought with him out all day and the matron off to the party, then she
wouldn’t be disturbed. It’s lucky one of the women took her up a cup of tea and found her.’

‘Is she – is she going to be all right?’

Old Albert shook his head sadly. ‘It’s touch and go, I reckon.’

Jake glanced beyond the old man, across the yard towards the door leading to the stairs up to the infirmary. As if reading his mind, Albert said, ‘I wouldn’t go up there, lad. The
doc’s still with her and the matron. Leave ’em to it, lad. Leave ’em to it. They’ll do their best . . .’

It seemed that the combined efforts of the doctor and the matron were still not enough. Before Isaac had returned, red-faced from merrymaking and looking forward to a night of
passion with his woman, Sarah had slipped away, sinking into a peaceful oblivion, released at last from all the heartache and sorrow her short life had brought her. Jake, sitting with Albert, heard
the news from Ursula Waters.

She stood in the doorway. ‘Well, he’s got rid of his latest paramour, then.’ Her tone was almost gleeful. Jake felt sickened. ‘She thought he was going to cast her off.
That’s why she did it. There’s a younger woman just come in here. He’s been eyeing her up. I can tell. Kirkland must have thought she was going to be cast aside, so she saved him
the trouble. She couldn’t bear it. Sooner slash her wrists than live without him.’ She nodded knowingly, her eyes bright, a satisfied smile on her thin lips. ‘That’s how it
would be. Oh, I know that’s how it would be.’

Jake stared at her. ‘Do you mean – she’s gone? She – she’s died?’

Ursula nodded.

Behind him, Albert sighed deeply and murmured, ‘What a waste! A nice little woman. What a shame!’

Suddenly Jake launched himself at Ursula, knocking her backwards against the wall. ‘You bitch. You’re glad, aren’t you? Glad she’s out the way. You reckon you’ve
still got a chance with him. You dried-up old hag! As if—’

With surprising strength, Albert grasped Jake around the waist and pulled him away. Ursula was gasping in fear, her eyes wide and frightened.

‘Nay, lad, that’s not the way,’ Albert said, holding him firmly. ‘It won’t bring her back, more’s the pity. And you –’ His eyes were hard as he
glared at the woman holding her hand to her flat chest – ‘you can get out of my lodge.’

‘You . . . you . . .’ she gasped, ‘have no right to speak to me like that. You’re only the porter.’

‘Oh, aye? And what great authority have you in the place, eh? Oh, get out, woman, else I might be tempted to let this lad have a go at yer.’

Ursula scuttled out, but before he relaxed his hold Albert asked softly, ‘All right now, lad?’

Jake gave a muffled sob and nodded. With his arm still about him, Albert gently guided Jake to a chair and pushed him into it. ‘Now then, what we need is a strong cup of tea with a drop of
summat in it.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘But don’t you go letting on to
him
that I’ve got a bottle of the hard stuff here, will yer. Else I’ll end up in
the punishment room.’

Jake said nothing, but dropped his head into his hands and groaned. ‘Fancy her doing that. Poor, poor woman. She must have been heartbroken. Just wait till I see Meg. Wait till I get me
hands on Meg.’

Jake’s loud banging on the door of Percy Rodwell’s cottage was enough to waken the street.

‘Your mother’s dead.’ When Meg opened the door, the words came out far more bluntly than he had intended. ‘She took her own life.’

Meg gasped and stared at him, the colour draining from her face. She stood rigidly as if turned to stone. She held her breath, waiting for the news to hit her. And then it came. Realization
flooded through her like a tidal wave. ‘Oh – oh – oh!’ she gasped like a person drowning. She wrapped her arms around herself, bending over, doubled up as if in terrible
pain.

Jake watched, his heart hardened against her. He could not bring himself to go to her and put his arms around her, could not comfort her, could not even touch her. At her next words, his disgust
deepened.

‘How could she? Oh, how could she do that?’ Meg gasped. ‘The shame!’

It was, of course, a criminal act to commit suicide and even though the criminal was beyond reach, society still exacted a cruel penalty. Sarah would be buried in unconsecrated ground with no
stone to mark her grave.

‘The shame is that her own daughter judged her and found her guilty and then deserted her. Even now you’re not thinking of her, of how she must have felt, are you, Meg? Just
yourself. It’s always
you
, isn’t it?’

Slowly, like an old woman, she pulled herself up to face him. ‘Why? Why did she do it?’

He lifted his shoulders, a jerky, angry movement. ‘Waters reckoned the master had his eye on a younger piece. If I’d thought for one moment that it wasn’t the sort of thing yer
mam’d do, then I might even think—’

‘But she wouldn’t do that. My mam wouldn’t kill herself,’ Meg blurted out.

Jake stared at her. ‘Are you sure? I mean, she must have been so unhappy.’

‘Was she? The last time I saw her – with
him
–’ still, Meg was bitter – ‘she looked much better. The only thing that was upsetting her was . . . was .
. .’ She dropped her gaze.

‘Yes, go on, say it. Face it, Meg. The only thing upsetting her was – you!’

They glared at each other, breathing heavily, their eyes hostile.

‘To think I once thought I loved you,’ Jake whispered. ‘And now you sicken me. You really do. And this caps it all. Even now you haven’t got a kind word to say for her.
Your own mother.’

‘What about me? Did she think about me when she took up with him? She was just the latest in a long line of his – his –
whores
. You want to think yourself lucky, Jake
Bosley. You want to be thankful you haven’t got a mother to do that to you.’

It was the cruellest thing she could have said to him and it broke his heart. The instant the words were out of her mouth, Meg regretted them. But it was too late.

‘Dr Collins – can you spare me a moment?’

Seated in his pony and trap, Philip looked around to see who had called his name. ‘Jake! How are you?’ he said, stepping down and holding out his hand towards the young man hurrying
towards him.

As they shook hands, Jake said, ‘I’m fine.’ His look belied his words, for there was a worried frown creasing his face and his eyes were dark with anxiety. ‘But I need to
talk to you. When could you spare me a few moments?’

Philip took the watch out of his waistcoat pocket and glanced at it. ‘Not now, I’m afraid. I’m due up at the workhouse for a medical inspection.’

Jake’s lips pressed together grimly. The mention of the workhouse only increased his worries. ‘Later on today, then,’ he persisted. ‘I can meet you anywhere you say. Only
not there. Not at the workhouse.’

Philip smiled, thinking that the young man’s reluctance stemmed from his years within its walls. He wouldn’t blame Jake for a moment if he never wanted to set foot in the place
again. ‘Is it a medical matter? Can you come to the surgery?’

‘No, it’s not. Not really.’

‘Then come to the house after evening surgery. Say, eight o’clock. All right?’

‘Fine. We’ll have finished the evening milking by then, an’ all. Thanks, Doctor.’

Louisa opened the door to Jake’s knock.

‘How nice to see you, Jake. Are you well? Are you happy at the farm? And how’s little Betsy doing? Oh, dear me, what a lot of questions I’m throwing at you before you’ve
hardly got through the door!’ She laughed. ‘Come in. I’m just about to serve coffee in the drawing room. Go on through. Philip’s in there and I’ll join you in a
minute.’

The doctor and his wife now lived in a double-fronted detached house in an elegant area of South Monkford. Philip had one of the bay-windowed front rooms as his surgery, with the room behind it
as his dispensary. Patients waited in the vast hall for their turn to see him. On the opposite side of the house was the Collinses’ private sitting room and behind that the dining room, with
a kitchen to the rear of the house.

Louisa now opened the door on the right-hand side of the hallway and ushered Jake into the sitting room. From a deep chair beside the fire, Philip rose and gestured towards a sofa. ‘Come
in, Jake, come in. Sit down, do. It’s good to see you – and looking so well. The outdoor life certainly agrees with you.’

Jake smiled. For a moment some of the worry lining his face was chased away. He’d always liked the doctor and Louisa, too, and had it not been for the sombre reason for his visit, he would
have been delighted to spend an evening in their company. But Jake was hardly aware of his surroundings: the oil paintings on the wall, the cabinet with its delicate china, the bulky sideboard, the
heavy ruby velvet curtains . . . He was too anxious about the reason for his visit to notice any of it.

They had only just exchanged polite pleasantries by the time Louisa came back into the room, bearing a tray with coffee and a selection of fancy cakes and biscuits. Setting it down on a low
table in front of the crackling log fire, she asked, ‘How do you like your coffee, Jake?’

His rueful smile flickered briefly. ‘I’ve never had any, Miss – Mrs Collins. They’re tea drinkers at the farm and before . . .’ He needed to say no more. Coffee was
never served in the workhouse, at least not to the inmates.

‘I’m sorry,’ Louisa said at once. ‘I didn’t think. I’ll put milk in for you, but try it without sugar first. I can always put some in if you find it
bitter.’

When they were all settled, Philip leant back in his chair and said, ‘Now, what is it you wanted to see me about?’

Jake glanced briefly at Louisa and then looked away again. Quick to understand, Louisa said, ‘If you want to talk to Philip privately, then I’ll go.’

‘As long as it’s not a medical matter, Jake, I have no secrets from my wife,’ Philip said, glancing fondly across the hearth at her. ‘You can speak freely.’