For The Sake of Her Family (14 page)

Tightening his hold on her wrist, he removed the lamp from her hand and set it down on the table. Then he threw her face down on the bed. With his ample body pinning her down, she was powerless
to stop him as he pulled her skirts up and ripped off her bloomers. Alice tried to scream, but he buried her head in the mattress so that it was all she could do to breathe. The iron bedstead dug
into her legs as the drunken landlord took his pleasure, grinding the bed into the wall with every thrust. And all the while he was hurling foul-mouthed insults at her, gaining as much pleasure
from that as the sexual act itself.

Then suddenly it was over. She felt him withdraw from between her aching, sore legs and he lunged to his feet, releasing her. Kicking his trousers from around his ankles, he stepped out of them
and staggered out of the room without a word. She heard him breathing heavily as he descended the stairs.

Alice lay retching and sobbing on the bed, her body aching from the injuries he’d inflicted on her. Pulling her clothing down to cover herself, she curled into a ball, trying to make
herself small. How could he? How could he? She felt dirty, worthless and so lonely. What was she to do now? Tears streamed from her eyes as she eased her body off the bed.

Terrified that he might return for more, she wedged a chair beneath the door handle so that it could not be opened. Then she took off her clothes and poured clean water into her washbasin.
Desperate to get his filth off her, she scrubbed herself raw, tearing at the bruised intimate parts of her body.

It was some time before she gave up and finally laid her aching body on the bed. Tomorrow, as soon as daylight dawned, she would leave. She didn’t know where she would go, but there was no
way she would stay another night under the same roof as Uriah Woodhead.

‘So where’s Alice? And why have you not opened up, you big useless lump?’ Annie Woodhead had returned from her mother’s earlier than expected to find
the doors closed at the Moon, even though it was past midday. She clicked her tongue, looking around at the state of the place.

‘You’ll never believe it, Mother: I found her in bed with Jack Alderson, the little tart. As soon as your back was turned, she had a man in her room! What do you think of that? And I
heard she’d been seeing Old Todd and charging for favours. Well, you can see the predicament I was in, on my own with a loose woman. So I threw her out. I couldn’t do no other now,
could I? And I couldn’t run the pub on my own, so that’s why we are in the state we are.’ Uriah offered his wife a chair to sit in while he hurriedly made excuses for the
disappearance of Alice.

Annie looked at her husband, weighing up his explanation. Alice had seemed such a grand lass and Jack was a nice quiet lad . . . On the other hand, she had watched her around Old Todd, making
eyes at him, and she’d been forever nipping out of the inn for a few minutes when he was staying with them – the brazen hussy!

‘Oh my God, Uriah! And I left her with you. I should have known! She was always a bit too forward for my liking, even though she acted like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. After
we’ve been so good to her, taking her in and letting her live under our roof! Mind you, look at her father – it had to come out somewhere! We’re better off without her.
She’d have given this place a terrible reputation, and we don’t want people tarring us with the same brush. After all, we have high morals and high standards. No, you did right to throw
her out, Uriah. I hope I never see her again.’ Annie’s teacup rattled with indignation as she lifted it to take a sip of her lovingly prepared tea.

Uriah, meanwhile, was also offering up a prayer that he would never see Alice again. He knew it was more than his life was worth.

The grass was long and wet, stinging and sticking to Alice’s legs as she made her way along the riverbank, stumbling over tree roots and turning her ankles on boulders in
her haste. She was short of breath and the hurts she’d suffered the previous night made her want to cry, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving, desperate to get clear of the village
without anyone noticing her slip away.

Unable to sleep, she’d stared up at the skylight window above her bed, waiting for the first glimpse of dawn. Then she had made her escape, gathering up her few possessions and creeping
out of the back door of the Moon before the villagers began to stir. Avoiding the cobbled street and the drovers’ road, she took to the overgrown path that followed the river to the top of
the dale and the marble works, where she hoped to seek refuge with her brother. Will had mentioned that the foreman’s cottage renovations were coming along well and it now had a new roof; she
was hoping to lie low there for a day or two while she tried to think what to do next.

Pausing to catch her breath, she looked back the way she’d come. The village showed signs of coming to life: she could make out the faint glimmer of candles in windows, and smoke was
rising from the bakery in a grey plume that blended with the sullen clouds hanging over the fells. A horse-drawn wagon rolled noisily over the cobbles; soon the road would be full of farmers and
tradesmen coming and going.

A spasm of pain made Alice bend over, clutching her stomach. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as she sank to her knees, waiting for the nausea to subside. As bad as the pain were the
feelings of guilt and anxiety. What was she going to tell her brother? He was bound to ask what she was doing, showing up at Stone House on a work day, but she daren’t tell him the truth. If
he found out what had taken place, he’d kill Uriah. No, best tell him something else – anything to keep her shame quiet.

She picked herself up and got moving again. After a while, she reached the point where the path passed by the drive to Whernside Manor. Keeping low so that no one would see her, she peeked
through the undergrowth and saw Jack leading his beloved horse across the yard. Dear, sweet Jack, he would never hurt anyone. But for all that he was a good and loyal friend to her brother, Alice
doubted he would want anything to do with her if he found out what had happened. She wiped her nose and swept the tears away. It was no good feeling sorry for herself; what was done was done.
Nothing she could do to change it.

She took a deep breath, pushed her chin out and set off again. As she walked, she began to rehearse the story she would tell Will and Jack. She’d never liked working at the Moon –
both the lads knew that – so the best thing would be to tell them that she’d fallen out with Annie. The only person who’d know what had really happened was Uriah, and he
wouldn’t say, not if he’d any sense. Will had been promising her that if he secured the cottage, she could move in with him. And if Lord Frankland would let her do more than one day a
week at the manor, she’d bring in a bit of money. Besides, the manor was more the kind of place where she belonged. She should never have taken the job in the pub. Perhaps there had been a
reason for the horrible events of last night, showing her what Uriah Woodhead was really like. Come what may, there was no way she would ever cross the threshold of that godforsaken place
again.

It was nearly noon when Alice heard the ring of hammers on stone and the chug of the waterwheel. Then she turned the last bend of the river path at the head of the dale and
there in front of her was the marble works. She could see the cottage with its smoke-damaged front; there was obviously lots of work still to be done on it, but thanks to the new slate roof it was
looking more like the pleasant home it had once been.

Though she’d been walking since dawn and was exhausted from lack of sleep, Alice’s spirits rallied at the thought she would soon see her brother. There was no one in the main yard,
so she made a beeline for the cottage, hoping to find Will there. A handful of hens were scratching about by the back door, a sure sign that he was making this his home. There was a strong smell of
smoke even now; it probably came from the pile of burned timbers stacked against the cottage wall. Alice shuddered, reminded of the terrible day when Mrs O’Hara died.

‘Will, Will, are you there?’ she called softly, opening the cottage door and peering into the room. The smell of smoke was even stronger in here. The walls were only half plastered;
there was no furniture and no curtains at the windows. With a sigh, Alice crept in and set her bundle of possessions on the floor. She was disappointed that her brother was not at home. The last
thing she wanted was to walk up to the works in search of him. She dreaded the thought of the men looking at her; most of them were ex-navvies with no wives and no commitments, and Will had said
what a rough lot they were. Feeling sick to her stomach, Alice remembered how Will had gone on to say that they were the ones who’d told him about her doing favours for Old Todd. No, even if
it meant waiting all day, she would just have to remain here until Will came.

The stairs had yet to be repaired, so there was no way of getting to the bedrooms. She went through a doorway into the adjoining room. This was obviously where Will was sleeping: in the corner
was an iron bedstead, and on it was her mother’s patchwork quilt. Alice sat on the edge of the bed. It seemed a lifetime ago since she had said goodbye to her mother; she had been lying in
her bed at Dale End Farm, covered with this very quilt.

She picked up a corner of the quilt and hugged it to her chest, tears in her eyes, gently rocking her body. ‘Oh, Mum, if you only knew what I’d been through,’ she whispered
under her breath. ‘I miss you so much.’ Overcome with grief for all that she’d lost, she collapsed on the bed, her body shaking with violent sobs.

‘No, no, get away, stop it, stop it!’ Alice screamed at her aggressor, flailing at the hands that were trying to grab her.

‘Ali, Ali, it’s me. Shh, it’s me, Will. What’s all this about? Why the screaming?’ Putting his arms around his drowsy sister, Will hugged her to him, stroking her
hair and speaking softly in an effort to calm her down. ‘That must have been some nightmare, our Ali – I thought you were going to knock me out!’ Will smiled at his young sister,
but his eyes were full of concern. He could see she was troubled about something, and he wondered what she was doing at Stone House.

‘I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Did I hit you?’ Alice sat upright and rubbed her eyes. She must have been asleep for hours. It was dark outside, and the only light in the
cottage came from a couple of flickering candles.

‘No, you didn’t hit me. But I wouldn’t want to be the fellow you were taking on in your dream – he’d have no chance.’ Will grinned, released his hold on Alice
and sat at the side of the bed.

‘Who said it was a man? Has someone been talking? I was only dreaming.’

‘I was only joking, Ali. Don’t get upset. Anyway, what you doing here?’ Will got up off the bed and picked up an oil lamp. ‘Have you fallen out with Uriah? No, that
can’t be it; from the way he talks, I get the impression he thinks the world of you.’ Will was busy examining the lamp, which had run out of oil, so he didn’t see the tears
welling up in Alice’s eyes.

She gulped hard, fighting back the tears and wiping away all traces with the sleeve of her blouse. ‘Yeah, well, impressions can be deceiving. Sorry, Will, I’m still half asleep.
I’ve had words with Annie and she’s sacked me. She says I’m lazy and that I haven’t been doing my job properly.’ Alice sat at the edge of the bed, unable to look her
brother in the eye. She hated lying to him. ‘I’m not going back. You should have heard her, Will. She accused me of all sorts – and you know how hard I work.’ She let the
tears out, hoping he’d assume she was upset at the unjust accusations, when really it was sadness and despair at what she’d been through.

‘Now then, our lass, don’t take on so. It’s only a job. That Annie does have a tongue on her. She can make grown men cry when she’s a mind to. She’ll soon be
begging you to come back, once she’s had a few days with twice the work to do.’ Will came and sat by her side, bemused to see his feisty little sister inconsolable after a telling-off
from Annie Woodhead.

‘I’m not going back, and you can’t make me . . . I’d rather starve than work there.’ Alice pulled on Will’s jacket, frantically pleading with her brother.

‘All right, all right, don’t fret. I’m not going to make you do anything. I know you never wanted to work there in the first place, and you’ve no need now, anyway. Matter
of fact, I was going to come and tell you my news this Sunday, but I can tell you now instead.’ Will got to his feet, looking proud and full of importance. ‘Who do you think is the new
boss at Stone House? Who’s gone and talked Lord Frankland into putting him in charge?’

‘Will, you’re not! He can’t have! You don’t know the first thing about cutting marble – we’re farmers.’ Alice looked up at her brother’s beaming
face while she dried her eyes with his slightly dirty hanky.

‘That I am, pet. The bugger’s confirmed it, official like. I’ve even got this bloody cottage. And look at this . . .’ He walked over to a lamp hanging on the wall and
pointed at the gas wick under the glass mantel. ‘He’s even putting me in them fancy gas lamps like they have at the manor. How about that, our Ali – us with newfangled lights! And
upstairs there’s going to be a toilet and bath. Now then, how’s that for posh, our lass? No more sitting on a cold outside lav for us on a frosty morning. What did I tell you?
I’ve made it, our lass. Now all I’ve got to do is keep in with his sister and I’ll soon own this spot and the works.’ He sat on the edge of the bed and slapped his leg in
anticipation of the good life he could see ahead.

‘And where do I enter into your scheme of things, our Will?’ Alice scrubbed the last tear off her face and tossed her hair away from her eyes. ‘Am I to skivvy for you and stand
by while my true friend is taken for every penny?’ Shoving the grubby handkerchief into his hand, she stared at him long and hard. She didn’t like what Will was beginning to turn
into.

‘She’s not your friend; she’s your employer. Nancy’s a toff and she’s using you, just as her brother’s using me – or so he thinks. But I’m going
to turn it round and play him at his own game. She fancies a bit of rough on account of she can’t get anyone else, what with that face and her being so moody, nice as pie one minute and
screaming like a banshee the next. So I fit the bill – and I intend to take what I can get out of it. And why shouldn’t I? It’s not like Frankland showed much sympathy for us when
Father died, did he? And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, too. You want to take care, our Ali: I’m sure he’d like you to do more for him than keep Nancy company. I’ve
watched him with them friends of his – right shady bunch of characters. All foreigners, so you can’t understand a damn word they say, but it’s obvious they’re up to no good.
“Business associates”, he calls ’em, from Russia. It wouldn’t surprise me if the business turned out to be a brothel, judging by the way they carry on.’