Hope for Tomorrow (2 page)

“
Will you be all right without my wages for a while?” Martha didn't want to ask but she felt compelled to.

“
We'll be fine, lass. It's your Pa's job to keep us, not yours.”

“
Mum, we both know what he's like.”

Lizzy's brave façade crumpled for a moment as the struggle of her life momentarily overwhelmed her but found a brave smile after a few moments.

“
I made my bed, now I must lie in it but learn from my mistake, Martha, don't marry young, don't believe their sweet words and empty promises.” She held her hand out towards her daughter.

Somehow Martha found a smile, though she was sure it looked more like a grimace, and took her mothers hand.

'You're about four months too late,'
she thought but said. “I will.”

Her mother went to bed soon afterwards and Martha got her bag out to look at her reference. She opened the envelope to find not only a letter but two pounds!

“
Oh, Mrs Lassiter,” she sighed. “I'll pay you back, I swear.” She put the notes back in the envelope and took the letter out. It was a glowing reference and would surely secure her work, though her stomach was already starting to swell so it wouldn't be long before she was kicked out for being a loose woman.

She put the letter and money back in the envelope and placed it on the top of her bag, then she changed into her nightshirt for bed. She shared Matty's mattress since he was only three and didn't need much room but she was awoken in the early hours as her father kicked her foot as he passed. He always pretended he was drunk but his aim was far too good for it to be an accident.

She kicked out, her heel connected with his shin and he let out a shriek as he toppled over.

It was pandemonium then; the children cried out as he fell on them and their cries spread to the others, her mother awoke and began asking what was going on. There wasn't much light but clearly her father could see what he was doing as he got to his feet and made straight for her, straddling her so that she was pinned to the mattress and hitting her in the face,

“
Hit your own father, would ya!” he punched her again and Martha somehow managed to free one arm.

The children were huddled together, crying, Lizzy was shouting for them to stop and Martha was threatening him.

As he tried to strike her a third time, she caught his index finger and bent it back as far she she could. Manual labour had made her strong and he quickly moved off her to ease the pressure on his finger. Martha got to her feet and quickly kicked him between the legs, causing him to double over in pain and fall to the floor.

“
I'll sleep in the kitchen,” Martha told her mother, who was tending to her father. As usual, he had started it but he got all her sympathy. She understood really, for Lizzy was just trying to calm his temper but it still galled her.

She settled in one of the wooden chairs by the fire and did her best to get some sleep.

The next morning she got up early, dressed and started on breakfast, not to placate her father but to help her mother. 

When he came out of the bedroom he grinned as he saw her face and she guessed that she probably had a nice bruise on her left eye. She looked at his groin and grinned back, reminding him that there might not be a mark, but it had bloody well hurt. He didn't stay for breakfast but for the first time in his life, left for work early, though Martha was in little doubt that he would somehow still be late.

Breakfast was grits made with hot water and it was so awful that it was almost inedible. She had been spoiled, she admitted, at the big house. The servants didn't have fine fare but the food was tasty and plentiful.

After breakfast she helped her mother clean up, then changed but as she put her nightshirt away in her bag, she failed to notice that her reference letter had been moved slightly. She closed the bag and said her goodbyes, promising to visit when she could. She headed to the place in the town square from where the stagecoach left every morning. She took out her purse that contained her meagre savings and asked the driver for the charges. She handed the driver enough money for her journey then stowed her bag and climbed into the carriage.

Lucien arrived home after his ride feeling exhausted and restless at the same time. He headed up to his room and paced there for a while.

It was no good, he had to see Martha, to apologise and... well there wasn't any solution that he could see but he had to do something. The way she had looked at him earlier... and she was right, he was the lowest of the low.

He went downstairs to look for her but she wasn't to be found.

“
Lucien?” It was his father's voice and he turned, wondering if his father had somehow found out.

“
Yes, Sir?”

“
What the devil are you doing, running around from room to room?”

“
I was looking for something, father.”

“
Well ask the servants to look for it then but stop running around like a lunatic.”

“
Yes, Sir.” He returned to his room, hoping that he might see her that evening when he went down for dinner.

He was disappointed though as he saw no trace of her all evening.

As they ate, he wondered what his parents would say if he told them that he had gotten their maid pregnant and wanted to marry her. He toyed with the idea for a while until the image of their faces made him laugh out loud.

“
Is something wrong, dear?” his mother asked as they ate. “You've been acting very odd since you returned from your ride.”

“
No, Mother. I'm just...” his courage deserted him. “I think I might have a touch of sunstroke.”

“
You should be more careful,” she gently chastised him. “Why don't you go to bed and sleep it off. I'm sure you'll feel much better in the morning.”

Lucien looked to his father for his approval.

“
Go. You're no good to man nor beast in this state.” He said as he rolled his eyes theatrically.

“
Thank you, Sir.” He headed up to his room and lay on the bed as he pondered his options.

He was his father's only son so it was highly unlikely that he would be disinherited but still, his father would not stand for such a union. Appearance was everything to the man and Lucien was likely to find himself shipped off to Europe for a few years.

He couldn't believe that he had been so foolish! Yes, Martha was pretty and kind and lovely but he was 21, he should be able to resist the charms of a pretty girl! And in all honestly it had been he who pursued her, not the other way around.

He remembered her from before he left for university but she had been just a slip of a girl then; he had hardly paid her any mind but when he came back, she was a woman. The first time he had seen her in the study with the sunlight through the window making her chestnut hair shine like flame, his breath had caught in his throat, for even in the servant's uniform that she wore, he thought that she put even the prettiest London beauties to shame. Her training had taught her that she should be invisible while above stairs but Lucien had then contrived a number of meetings and each time he sought to draw her out a little more, asking her opinion on events or books or even the colour of his cravat.

Slowly she had come out of her shell a little and he had seen an intelligent and caring woman beneath her pretty façade. He was captivated. It took two months of cajoling and preying on her sympathies before she would agree to meet him in the stables and she had insisted that all they do was talk, so talk they did. He told her of his life, the expectations that his parents had for him and how he hated that his life had already been mapped out before he was born. He told her of his dream to be an academic and a professor and she had sympathised with him, trying to reassure him that once he was Earl, he could sell all the land if he wanted to and move to Oxford to become a college Don.

He appreciated her words and they were true to an extent but he didn't believe that such a larger-than-life figure as his father would ever die and he felt as if he would be trapped in this life forever.

Slowly he also drew her out of her shell and she told him about her life in Marchwood, her family and her father. She left out many details but he was no fool and could fill in the blanks. She dreamed of becoming a dressmaker and one day having her own shop and indeed he could see she did have a talent for seamstressing from the samples that she would bring out to show him.

They met like that for three months before she would let him kiss her. He didn't force her into anything but he pestered constantly and now he wished that he had listened to her pleadings and kept their friendship pure.

He finally got into bed at midnight but he got no sleep that night. At one o'clock he went out to the stables, hoping that she would be out there, waiting for him but he was once more disappointed.

The next morning he arose early and went to find Martha. One of her first jobs was to light the fires in the downstairs rooms but today he found another girl doing it.

“
Where is Martha?” he asked.

“
She's gone, Sir. Family emergency, Mrs Lassiter said.”

He turned around and headed straight to the housekeeper's room, not even bothering to knock.

“
What's this business about Martha going home?” he demanded.

Mrs Lassiter got up and closed the door behind him.

“
She hasn't gone home, she's resigned and you know exactly why!”

Mrs Lassiter had known this man since he was a boy and she wasn't afraid of him like some of the other servants.

“
Shame on you, Lucien!”

Lucien's anger died away then and he crumpled into one of Mrs Lassiter's seats and buried his head in his hands.

“
I've made a horrible mistake!” he said. “The things I said to her; I was so cruel.”

Mrs Lassiter watched him, surprised to see the extent of his grief. She hadn't thought him a cruel or callous man but neither had she thought him to be in love with Martha. Despite the harm he had caused, she found that she felt sympathy for him and sat in the chair beside him. Finally Lucien looked up and Mrs Lassiter saw tears in his eyes.

“
I don't know what to do,” he said. “This is all my fault.”

“
Now now, there's no need for theatrics,” she said getting to her feet and going over to the desk. “The first thing you must do is speak to her. I'll write down her parents' address and you can tell her how sorry you are.”

She handed him the slip of paper and as he took it, she saw hope blossom in his eyes and smiled.

“
Go and get her,” she said.

He didn't need telling twice; he ran through the kitchen and out into the barn quickly saddling his horse and jumping on it's back.

Chapter Two

The ride into Marchwood seemed to take forever though in reality he was going much faster than usual. The area where Martha's parents lived was a poor area but as he got deeper and deeper into the warren of streets he quickly realised that he had no real idea of the poverty that she came from. Finally he dismounted because he had to ask for directions and eventually he found her house and knocked on the door.

The woman who answered stared open-mouthed at him, dressed as he was in his finery and leading a horse. She looked to be about fifty years of age or older but given the young children behind her, he guessed that she must be Martha's mother.

“
I'm looking for Martha Dawley,” he said

“
S-s-she's gone.”

“
Gone where?” he demanded.

“
S-s- she's catching a stagecoach to Manchester today to look for work.”

“
Where does the stage coach leave from?” he asked, never having had need of such a thing before. “WHERE!” he yelled when she didn't answer.

“
I-I don't know.”

“
Stupid woman!” he yelled and turned away. He walked back the way he had come, asking all those that he passed if they knew where the stagecoach left from. The third man thought it left from the town square and Lucien quickly mounted his horse and cantered off down the street towards the centre of town, scattering people ahead of him as they rushed to get out of his path.

He arrived in the square to find no sign of a stagecoach. He paused for a moment to debate his options but finally he decided to follow the carriage and see if he could catch it, after all, being a single rider on horseback, he was faster than the coach.

By early afternoon he and his horse were growing tired and he stopped at an inn by the roadside to give his horse a rest. Once he had seen that the beast was taken care of he went into the tavern.

“
Has the Manchester stagecoach been past yet?” he asked the barman.

“
Don't come this way,” he said. “On a Thursday the stage coach goes by way of Eastham.”

So he was on the wrong road. Still, all might not be lost.

“
Do you know where the coach alights in Manchester?”

“
At the Corn Exchange, if memory serves.”

“
Thank you.”

He ordered a quick meal and some ale to fortify him for the rest of the journey then continued on. If the coach was going by way of Eastham then it would take quite a while to reach Manchester so he didn't push his horse quite so fast for the last leg of his journey. He arrived at the market square at around four o'clock and enquired of a passer by if the coach from Marchwood had arrived yet and was assured that it hadn't. He waited patiently, wondering what he would say to her.

He'd had time to think as he rode and had decided that the best thing he could do was set Martha up in a hotel for a few weeks while they worked out the details. He had been toying with the idea of running away with her to Gretna Green so that when they returned, his family would have no choice but to accept the marriage. He had also been wondering if he was strong enough to break with them completely and perhaps pursue his dream of becoming a scholar but there was time enough to work out the details. For now he had to get her somewhere that was decent and safe.

He rushed forward as the stagecoach pulled into the square and in his eagerness to see Martha, he opened the door before the carriage had even stopped but she wasn't there.

He felt a moment of panic and when the driver tried to chastise him for his actions, he threw the man up against the side of the wagon.

“
Was there a girl on the coach earlier? From Marchwood?”

The driver didn't really pay much attention to his passengers, they paid their fare and he drove, that was it. He'd been doing this for fifteen years now and the faces had long ago blended into one.

“
I don't know,” he answered honestly.

“
Where did she get off?” Lucien demanded, shaking the driver by his lapels.

“
I don't know! We stopped in Redish, Eastham, Hazel Grove-”

Lucien let the man go; he was useless to him. He looked around for the other passengers but they had quickly alighted and collected their belongings. He would never find her now.

Like a man defeated he returned to his horse, untied it and they walked side by side until they reached a coaching inn. His father would be furious by now with his son having been missing all day and soon all night also, but it was unfair to ask the horse to ride all that way back in one day. Besides, he needed time to think.

Martha got off the stage coach at Eastham and made her way to the working class area. It was easy enough to find, she just followed a working class man. She trailed behind him for about twenty minutes until she saw a sign outside a house advertising for lodgers and knocked on the door. The house had clearly seen better days and so she hoped that the rent would be low.

The woman who owned the house told her that rooms were a shilling a week which was payable upfront. Martha got the money from her purse and paid her for two weeks. That should give her enough time to find a job at least. Her savings were down to fifteen shillings and six pence now but she always had Mrs Lassiter's money to fall back on. She got the letter out of her bag, intending to hide the money away in her room since she didn't want to carry it around with the reference every day. She turned cold when she realised that the money was gone.

“
You bastard!” she cried, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. Her father must have taken it. She wouldn't mind if she knew that it would go on food, clothes and boots to help her siblings but she knew that he probably wouldn't even tell them about the money; he would keep it and drink it all away.

She wanted to cry and yell and rail against the world but that wouldn't get her anywhere. That money had been a bonus anyway so she would just have to make do with her own savings. Still, if she ever saw her father again, she was going to kick him where it hurt!

Eastham was a factory town with lots of cotton mills and textile factories. Martha wasn't trained for that kind of work but she was a quick learner. Based on her reference she was given work at the third mill that she enquired at and and told to return at 9am the following day. The wage was basic, 3/6 a week but she could live on that. What she didn't know was how long for? Last night she had tightened her corset to help hide her bump for as long as possible but she couldn't hide it forever, at which time they would surely fire her.

She contemplated her options as she headed back to her room and as she looked older than her years, she wondered if she could invent a husband. Perhaps a ne'er-do-well who had gone to work in Liverpool and left her? That might be plausible. Of course she didn't have a ring or a marriage certificate but she knew exactly how to describe her imaginary husband, she had lived with her father long enough that she could base it on him.

The following morning she turned up to work and was taught how to use the loom, her job being that of a frame spinner. The looms were large instruments and required two people to operate them but the machine was not difficult to understand and she had someone to help her with any questions. Of course making herself heard was difficult above the noise from the machines but the others seemed to read lips, though she had yet to pick that up.

As she left the mill at the end of the first day, she could still hear her ears ringing from the din.

She lived on bread and jam that first week so that she could save as much money as possible. She didn't find a cheaper room to rent so she had to make do where she was. It wasn't ideal as the walls were thin and the other residents were not shy about sharing their arguments, their children's wails or their sex lives with their neighbours but Martha just kept telling herself that she would soon get used to the noise.

She didn't want to spend money on candles so she simply went to bed when the sun set each night. Thankfully it was almost summer and the evenings were getting longer. By the end of her fourth week at the mill she was making friends, thanks in no small part to learning how to read lips

Her loom mate was a woman called Jess who was married but had no children yet. Jess introduced her to her friends and her husband, who also worked at the mill and Martha told them her story of her fictional husband, who even stole her wedding ring before he left!

Of course they noticed that her accent was more refined than theirs but it wasn't like that of the upper classes, so they and no trouble believing that she was a lower middle class woman who had been brought low by her husband.

Still, she did not tell them that she was pregnant but kept tightening her corset in the hopes of hiding the bump. She sometimes wondered if tightening her corset would harm the baby and although she hated herself for such thoughts, she wondered if that wasn't such a bad thing? If she lost this child or it was born dead like her fifth brother, it would be a blessing really, wouldn't it?

She tried not to dwell on the topic too much for she didn't like the way her mind worked.

As she approached the sixth month of her pregnancy her corset was so tight that she was beginning to feel breathless. Cotton mills are not nice places to work at the best of times; as well as the deafening noise, the atmosphere is hot and humid to keep the cotton fibres moist and prevent breaking, while the air itself is filled with cotton fibres which clog the lungs and can cause dreadful irritation and coughing fits.

As her seventh month approached she found that she began growing dizzy at times from the restriction of her corset and eventually she collapsed on the factory floor.

Her bosses were sympathetic but they didn't want an unhealthy worker. She was fired.

She was sent home immediately and as she walked, she considered her choices. She could get work at another cotton mill; there were another two mills in this town that she hadn't tried for work at but she would face the same problem with the hot, humid air and her tight corset. She could try for seamstress work but that was usually offered by middle class women who would be unlikely to be so understanding about her absent husband and coming baby.

The same was true of all decent jobs, so factory work was her only choice. That night she decided to visit her friend Jess and come clean about her pregnancy and the problems her corset was giving her.

Jess welcomed Martha and was pleased to see that she was feeling better. She shared a stew with them, the first proper meal that she had eaten in nearly three months and she relished every mouthful, though she knew that she should feel guilty about imposing on their hospitality.

When they had finished, Jess's husband excused himself and went to the pub to allow the ladies to talk. Martha confessed that she was pregnant.

“
What on earth you been hidin' that for?” Jess said, smiling. “It's great news, innit?”

“
Well.” Martha didn't want to contradict her, for women were supposed to be natural wives and mothers after all but she had to. “I'm all alone, Jess. And maybe this baby wasn't conceived in sin but I'm alone now and tongues will wag, you mark my words. I just wanted to earn as much as I could before the baby came.”

“
And what happens when the baby comes?” Jess asked,

“
I wish I knew,” Martha sighed. “I can't operate a loom with a child at my breast, can I?”

“
Martha!”

“
What? It's true isn't it? How can anyone raise a child on their own? I mean it's different for men; other women offer to help, even take the children in but what can I do? Pay a governess or nanny?” she joked.

“
No, but you could pay a local mother to take your babe in while you work. Mothers are in the same situation you are, unable to work. A few pennies means a lot to some families.”

“
Do you really think that I could do that?”

“
I don't see why not. Maud down the road just had her second and I know they're missing the income she used to make at the mill.”

For the first time since she had arrived in Eastham, Martha finally began to believe that this might be possible, to work and have a child.

“
Do you think if I explain to the overseer about the corset, that he might take me back on for a while?”

“
You're a good worker so I reckon he might,” Jess smiled. “Now, why don't you let me loosen that corset for you and then we'll 'ave a cuppa.”

“
Thank you, Jess.”

The next month was a positive joy for Martha; she felt as though she'd been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and now she was free. Okay she was still an unmarried mother but no one had questioned her story yet and she had every reason to believe that they wouldn't. Finally she put pen to paper and wrote to Mrs Lassiter.

Unfortunately two weeks later, disaster struck.

Lucien was in a terrible mood when he arrived home after his pointless hunt for Martha and the whole house was under a cloud caused by his bad mood.