A Woman Undefeated (25 page)

“Sit beside me, Annie, and tell me what is ailing yer. Do yer see a lot of Florrie? Is she a special friend?” She patted the space beside her and Annie came to sit at her side.

“She used to be me friend, until her mam sent her to the charity school, but my mam wouldn’t let me go, ‘cos it took me away from things. She said she needed me to look after her babies, and why would I need all that learnin’ anyway. Dad said that when me mam had finished havin’ babies, then it would be my turn. But I don’t want to be like me mother. I want to get away from Neston, maybe go to Liverpool, get a job over there and have some peace on me own!”

She turned a tear-streaked face towards her and Maggie looked back in horror at her words.

What did she mean it would be her turn having babies? What could Solly possibly mean by his insinuating words?

“Yer don’t mean that yer father has been laying his hands on
yer, do yer?” Maggie asked gently, holding her breath, waiting for an answer that might mean she would have to do something to the little turd. She would strangle Solly if Annie had been interfered with, remembering back to that time in the fields, when he had wrestled with her. Maggie breathed more easily as Annie made her explanation, but began to listen more closely to the now talkative girl.

“Naw, the only time I get touched is when he clats me round the head for speakin’ back at him. He did climb on to me palliasse once, when he got lost, he said. It was one night when he came in drunk, but me mam hauled him down the ladder and clatted him round the ear instead. No, yesterday I heard them talkin’. Dad is so excited about this fight on Friday night. Yer know, the fight that your Jack is havin’? Dad said it was going to make a big difference to the way he lives his life, but Mam got angry with him. She knows if he gets any money, he’ll just drink it away in the pub’. I mean, look at me dress. Missis Briggs give me this, one that Florrie has grown out of, and that petticoat you bought me was sold as soon as he could get it off me. He said if Jack loses the fight, then he’s going to sell me to the gypsies......”

“The gypsies?” Maggie squeaked. “You mean those travellin’ people that don’t have a home? Here? I saw some once passin’ through Ballina, that’s near where I used to live, by the way. Do they have gypsies in Neston? Why would he want to sell you to them anyway?”

“I think it was more of a threat to me mam, than really meanin’ it. He thinks I should be bringin’ in a wage by now. He calls me mam a lazy, fat cow, who could manage without me if she would just stir herself. But, as I said to him, “I don’t want to stay and work in Neston, and I’ll keep away from the gypsies when they do their yearly visit to the Ladies Day Fair.”

“Oh, is there to be a fair soon, Annie?” Maggie inquired eagerly, glad to change the subject, if only to cheer the girl. “I’ve never bin to one of them, though me mother told me she had once.”

“Well, I’ll tell yer all about it, when we’ve had the ice cream and we’re walkin’ back to the cottages,”

Annie replied, slyly. She had had enough of talking for one day and her mother would be wondering where she had got to. She’d probably get a back hander anyway for disappearing again.

Maggie brushed her hair until it shone when she got back to the cottage. She changed into her brand new dress, admiring the way it fell into billowing folds from underneath her enlarged breasts. A picture of domestic contentment, she thought, hoping that Jack would see the same. Enough to take his thoughts away from his hopes of a fighting future and come to his senses.

“Did yer hear that Missis Briggs has finished me, Jack?” she asked, when he came loping through the back door.

“I heard Maggie,” he replied and sat himself on the sofa beside her.“Farmer Briggs told me this afternoon in the fields.”

Jack was looking rather weary. He told Maggie it had been back breaking work clearing the cabbage field of weeds, so that they could start again with the winter seed. The crop had been gathered the day before and loaded onto the cart for the market. He was looking forward to a night in with his feet up and wondered why his wife was looking so blooming and clean. He hoped that she wasn’t going to start her back biting all over again.

“You should be pleased that you’ll have time to yerself,” he said. “There’ll be no time fer anythink when Michael Junior is here to stay. Come on, let’s get it over with, Maggie. What’s eatin’ ye?”

“It’s just that Missis Briggs said that if yer didn’t turn up for work on Saturday after the fight, that you’d get the sack. It hasn’t been the first time that the farmer has had to warn yer, or so she said. You know we’ll lose the cottage and our living.........”

She began to weep a little, thinking it might impress him. The gentle pleading and a few sorrowful tears should make him want to change his ways.

“Maggie, I’ve made me mind up, yer know I have. All the
crying in the world or Briggs’s warnings is not goin’ to change it.”

Jack put his arms round her now shaking shoulders.

“We don’t need Briggs and his measly wage, nor his cottage that is no more than a hovel. I can use me fists to earn a livin’. I’m good at it and when that agent sees me on Friday night, I’ll prove that I’m worth the patronage. McKeown doesn’t stand a chance against me. I’ve heard he’s a dirty fighter, but now I have that knowledge, I’ll be careful and pull me punches sparingly. No, I’m after the good life, Maggie, and you’ll be with me all the way. You’ll have shop bought clothes, not something you’ve had to cobble together. Though I have to say, you look very good in the one you’ve just made for yerself,” he finished hastily.

“And what if I don’t want to come with yer to this new high life yer promising?” she asked despairingly. “I’ve settled here in Neston. You’re the one that dragged me here and just when I’m thinkin’ that it’s me home fer ever, yer draggin’ me off again.”

“Oh, is there no end to yer whining, Maggie?”

Jack began to raise his voice in exasperation.

“Don’t yer want fancy clothes, a shining new house, with a servant to answer the door? Yer must be mad to want to bring our child up in this poverty. No, I’ve made up me mind. Be ready with yer bits and pieces on Saturday morning and I’ll borrow a handcart. We’ll be staying at me mother’s until things are finalized. Then yer can please yerself. Stay with me mother by all means if yer want to, but we are definitely not going to be workin’ at the farm.”

So, that was all there was to be said on the subject, Maggie thought, as they spooned the broth she had made earlier into their mouths. Both of them were churned up inside and she was glad when Jack put his coat on and said he was going for a walk. Though it was a pity that they had never taken the air together like other couples. She would have liked that sometimes, linking arms and taking the air along the promenade.

Maggie looked around the living room sadly. This had been her first real home. One of her own, she amended hastily, her real home was in the hamlet of Killala. How she longed to be back
there. Was Jack really expecting her to pack up all their possessions and go to live at Alice’s house? How were they going to manage with all the lodgers? Was there room enough for them? It had probably been discussed already, and rested on the amount of money Jack had secreted.

Maggie couldn’t believe her eyes later after Jack had gone on his walk, using the opportunity to stealthily pull out the draw string bags and count Jack’s money. She found twenty gold sovereigns in each of them, amounting to £120! How had he amassed such a grosh of riches and where could he have taken his winnings to change them into all those coins? It was a mystery. Surely the wagers taken would be paid for in shillings, not in gold!

So, already his fighting had been more than an exchanging of blows with a local opponent. Jack’s father had obviously taken a great deal of trouble to make the fights into proper events.

Maggie straightened up with difficulty after carefully placing the money bags back, wishing, not for the first time, that her confinement was near to the end. The waddling around like a bow legged duck was getting harder, with another two and a half months to go if Alice was to be believed. She decided to say nothing about the money bags to her husband. Other than to remind him that if they were thinking of leaving the cottage, then he would have to move his wealth to his money belt. Or take it to Alice, of course. Maggie didn’t think that any of his money would be coming in her direction.

Next day, the evening before his fight with McKeown, Jack acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As usual, he got up at the crack of dawn. Putting on his work clothes and pretending to set off for a full day’s work at the farm was his way of shielding his pregnant wife from the truth of the matter. Plans
were already well advanced, but Maggie didn’t have to know.

He made his way to Seagull Cottage, where his mother provided a breakfast of sliced ham, eggs and steak, before he ran a circular route around Neston and Parkgate. Later he rested on the bed that Alice had proudly made available for her pugilist son, until Michael, his father, said it was time to get up again.

Unknown to Maggie, the parting of the ways had already occurred between Jack and the farmer. There had been a lot of strong words from Brigg’s, as he had assumed that the Irishman had been grateful for the start he had been given. A job and a cottage was not to be sniffed at and it would take some time to find a replacement amongst the local men. Straight talking hadn’t worked. Briggs reminded Jack of his responsibilities.

Talking to Jack, trying to get him to stay with the life that they had both become used to, hadn’t worked for Maggie either. So she had busied herself until bedtime, preparing the next day meal’s vegetables, then showing Jack the little garments that Peggy had knitted for their baby. Anything to keep her from shouting and crying out, that he was a great big stupid fella to be throwing away this life.

Later she had lain beside him, marvelling that Jack could sleep. While she lay wide- eyed, contemplating all the horrors that could possibly happen. The future was uncertain, so much rested on Jack’s capabilities. No one could predict the outcome of his performance or his skill.

To keep a secret from Ruthie Tibbs in itself, would be a test of endurance. Though she didn’t make an appearance at Lilac Cottage until the next afternoon. Ruthie surprised Maggie as she came wandering out of the privy. She’d been feeling a few unsettling pains, though why she didn’t know.

“That will be yer babby bedding in,” explained Ruthie knowledgeably, when Maggie confessed to having pain. “I had to get Nellie Flemin’, the midwife, in once. Around the same time as you are,’cos I kept thinkin’ that me and the babby was about to
be parted. She told me it starts putting it’s ‘ead in the hole and likes gettin’ itself comfy. It will probably go quiet now, getting’ its strength fer the birthin’. Not that you’ll be able to get much restin’. Now that yer leavin’ the cottage and the farm.”

Maggie looked askance at her neighbour. Had Jack already told the farmer that this was going to be his last working day? How had Ruthie heard about their moving? It was like she had a second sight, or some way of divining other people’s thoughts.

“Thought I would come to see if there is anything that yer thinkin’ of leavin’. Those curtains ye made would fit me windows and maybe that mattress yer brung along. Yer won’t need yer kettle and pans neither, ‘cos yer’ll be sharin’ with Alice, I’ll be bound. It’s alright fer some, married to a fine fella whose goin’ places. I hope he’s not goin’ to ferget our Solly, once he’s over the water in Liverpool.”

It must have been Solly, giving his wife the latest on Jack’s plans, Maggie thought. Surely Jack would have waited until he had got his pay that evening, before telling Briggs that he was to go. Even so, she began to feel a little nervous, with Ruthie hanging over her like a spectre at a feast and the possibility of the farmer being angry.

“Don’t suppose I’ll see yer much, once yer settled in Seagull Cottage,” Ruthie continued, nodding her head sagely. “Can’t see that fancy Alice wantin’ the likes of me visitin’ fer afternoon tea and scones. Which reminds me, will yer be takin’ them little cups, and what about that blanket? Did they come with the cottage or can I have them? And have yer told Nellie Flemin’ of yer movin’, or is yer mother-in-law to be at the birthin’ instead?”

“Ruthie,” Maggie said, worried. “I’m not feelin’ so well and I’ve a mind to get into bed and stay there until tomorrer. Jack should be bringin’ a handcart first thing in the mornin’ and what we don’t put on it, yer can have. If yer would, ask Nellie to come down to Seagull Cottage if she can manage it. Alice has not mentioned a midwife being at the birthin’, but it won’t harm fer her to visit as well.”

Ruthie lumbered away, reluctantly. Maggie felt as if she’d just been run over by a horse and cart. She lay on the bed and pulled the blanket over her, her last thoughts before she slept, being of wondering where Jack had hidden his money belt. If Ruthie was to be the recipient of the feather mattress, she would have to make sure it was empty of Jack’s wondrous wealth.

She closed her eyes. A little sleep was welcome, just until Jack came home to change out of his working clothes.