Authors: Valerie Wood
Sarah climbed the stairs to the top of the house where Ma Scryven had her room and quietly opened the door. Lizzie had kept the curtains closed during the day to keep the brightness of the small square window from hurting the sick woman’s eyes. There was a dim lamp burning on the table by the bed and Sarah turned it up to be able to see the small bundle of humanity curled up in the bed.
The old woman looked like some small animal who in its pain had crawled for comfort into its final resting place. Her hand was under her cheek and her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes were closed as Sarah bent over and listened for her breathing. Softly she touched her cheek and instantly she opened them. She gazed as if unseeing and then closed them again with a small, quiet sigh.
‘It’s Sarah, Ma. Can you hear me?’ She sat on the side of the narrow bed and stroked her hand. There was a faint but perceptible movement of the head and Mrs Scryven opened her eyes again.
‘Sarah!’ Her name was uttered softly and with effort. ‘I’ve been waitin’ for thee.’ Again she closed her eyes as if the effort of speech was too much.
Sarah waited again, not wanting to disturb her, and presently got up from the bed and moved across to the window and drew back the curtains. There was no cloud and the deep vault of night-blue sky was scattered with stars. In the silence she could hear the steady rhythmic thrash of the waves as they beat on the shore. There was a sudden quiet movement behind her and she turned to see Ma Scryven looking at her, her small eyes bright.
‘Sarah?’
‘Yes, I’m here. Can I get something for you?’ Sarah knelt down so that her face was level with the small wrinkled one in the bed.
‘I’ve everything I need,’ said the old woman. ‘I don’t need much for my journey.’
Sarah felt a great emotion rising up in her as she faced the sight of death before her.
Mrs Scryven must have sensed her fear for she gave her a small twisted smile. ‘Don’t be afraid, Sarah. When ’time is right, death is welcome. It’s only in youth that we spurn it.’
She put out her hand. It was still and cold in Sarah’s. ‘Tha must tek my place here after I’m gone. Tha knows about herbs and potions and there’s many folks who’ll need thee, poor folk who don’t know how to fend for the’selves.’
She must have seen the hesitation on Sarah’s face, for she added softly, ‘Tha must put on one side thine own desires.’ She looked as if she wanted to say more, but the effort was too great and Sarah bade her not to tire herself.
‘I am going to rest,’ she said wearily. ‘I’m ready for it.’ She closed her eyes again and then suddenly said in a clear voice, ‘Open ’window, Sarah. I’ve a great want for a breath of sea air.’
Sarah rose from the floor and slid open the window. The thin curtains billowed as the air blew in with a rush and she leant out and took a deep breath. How good it was to be home again. There was a sharp coldness, as if autumn was meeting winter for the first time and she could taste the salt on the air. She smiled as she inhaled. Yes, this was where she belonged. She felt happy and full of vibrant life. She was home, and she was loved and loved in return. She turned back into the room to tell her old friend her secret but her smile slowly faded. Ma Scryven had slipped silently away.
‘You’d better get back to the office, John. There will be decisions to be made that the clerks can’t deal with. I’m much easier now.’ Isaac sat in an armchair, his swollen legs on a footstool. ‘Sarah’s made me comfortable.’
She had made him a potion of herbs, and wrapped his sore joints in comfrey leaves, and to please her he had submitted to her administrations. However, he found that his discomfort had eased. Whether it was her medicine or the fact that he was being cared for he couldn’t decide for, although Lizzie and Janey had done their best, he knew they were nervous of him and scuttled out of his presence as soon as their duties were done, whilst Sarah made sure that everything was within his reach, that his cushions were plumped up and his books were by his side. The only thing that she had moved away so that he couldn’t get at it was his brandy decanter, and she laughingly refused to give it to him.
‘That’ll be a treat to look forward to, sir,’ she’d teased. ‘Just as soon as you are moving about again.’
John stood with his back to his uncle, gazing out of the window. Yesterday they had buried Mrs Scryven. Will and Tom, Martin Reedbarrow and his son Joe had carried the small coffin in front of this window so that Mr Masterson might pay his respects, and then taken it round to Maria’s window where she leant, pale and unsteady, on the sill and said a silent goodbye to her old friend. He and Sarah, Lizzie and Janey had walked behind, to be joined by the villagers, who followed them to the small church which sat precariously on the headland only yards from the sea.
He had not had a chance to speak to Sarah alone until that same evening, when, as he went out for a stroll, he’d chanced to see her walking towards the churchyard with a bunch of flowers.
‘Be careful here, Sarah.’ The graveyard stretched to the cliff edge. ‘I can’t think why they still use it, why they don’t use the graveyard at Tillington.’
‘Ma Scryven asked that she should be buried here. She said she was within sight of home and all of us. We were the only family she had.’ She’d smiled sadly then, and he’d known that it wasn’t the right time to talk about their future.
‘I wanted to talk to you, Uncle, before I leave.’ He sat down beside Isaac. ‘I wanted to ask you what would be expected of me should I decide to marry?’
‘Oho,’ Isaac’s face brightened. ‘So, there’s something in the wind, hey? My word, your aunt will be pleased to hear that.’
‘No!’ John got up in some agitation and his uncle looked at him in surprise. ‘I’d rather you didn’t discuss it with my aunt, not yet. Nothing has been decided. I merely wanted to hear your views.’
‘If that is what you wish, John. I know, women do tend to get carried away over these issues. Well, you must make a good contract, of course, that goes without saying. Heaven knows we don’t need the money, but a suitable dowry enhances the alliance.’ He smiled. ‘I imagine there won’t be any difficulty there?’
John ignored the question and looked so solemn that Isaac too grew serious. ‘And if I do not make a good contract? If the woman I wish to marry has nothing, no dowry to bring, what then?’
A flush came to Isaac’s face. ‘Why, then I must think again about your inheritance if you are foolhardy enough to make an inappropriate match.’ He stopped as a memory long gone raised its head. What was it? Some girl and John in his youth, some fifteen, sixteen years ago when they first came here? He sighed, he couldn’t remember, his memory was failing.
‘I have Lucy to consider, you realize,’ he said rather sharply. ‘You must be mindful that she will be in your charge when I am gone, until she marries that is; and I cannot risk her losing her dowry should your wife not have money of her own to fritter away.’
He saw the expression of hurt on John’s face. ‘I’m sorry, John, it isn’t a matter of trust, but you know that that is how things are done.’ He leant forward and spoke quietly. ‘You and I both know that there are ways around this situation.’ He waved a finger con- spiratorially. ‘Marry well, and take your pleasure elsewhere if you are so inclined.’
John bowed stiffly to his uncle, his face cold and pale. ‘As I said, sir, I wished only to know your views and you have explained them perfectly. There will be no question of my having an illicit relationship. None whatsoever. When I make the decision, I intend to make only one contract and no other.’
Mrs Masterson and Lucy didn’t return until November, and then with some reluctance, Lucy complaining bitterly that she was missing dozens of parties and balls, and enthusing about the quality of the players who graced the stages of the London theatres. She clasped her hands in ecstasy as she told Sarah of the night when she had seen the Prince Regent, and that she was sure that he had noticed her for he gave a slight bow in her direction.
‘But Cassandra Hamilton seemed to think, quite wrongly of course, that he was looking towards her.’ She laughed playfully and shook her curls in an affected manner. ‘We all know that he prefers ladies of a fair complexion.’
Sarah waited patiently for Lucy to finish so that she might ask to be excused. It hadn’t been easy reorganizing the household whilst her mother had been ill, but she had found a woman from Tillington who was a good plain cook, and with Mr Masterson’s approval had taken on two more housemaids to clean the house, which had assumed a neglected look in spite of Lizzie’s and Janey’s efforts.
‘And, speaking of Cassandra Hamilton, what do you think?’ Lucy once more had claimed Sarah for her confidante.
Sarah shook her head. She had no wish to know.
‘She’s promised to Mr Anderson! He’s spoken to her father already.’ Lucy’s face was animated and she waited expectantly for Sarah’s response.
‘I’m delighted for them,’ she replied evenly. ‘I can’t think of a couple more suited.’ She suppressed a shudder as she recalled the unwanted embrace of the odious Bertram Anderson, and even felt a little sympathy for the disdainful Miss Hamilton who was seemingly willing to join her life to his.
Lucy dropped her voice. ‘Of course there is a whisper that he’s quite a philanderer, but from what I understand of it, one needs a man of experience when contemplating marriage – you know what I mean, Sarah?’ She nodded her head significantly and pursed her lips.
‘No, Miss Lucy, I’m afraid I don’t know, and I must ask you to excuse me, I have duties to attend to before supper.’ She gave a small curtsey and left the room before Lucy could bid her stay. She was dismayed by Lucy’s attitude, and saddened that she had acquired this thin veil of worldly sophistication since her stay in the capital.
Mrs Masterson too had come home demanding change. The house had to be redecorated in the brighter colours she had seen in London houses. The withdrawing room was to be papared with red, embossed wallpaper, new carpets ordered and sparkling chandeliers chosen from Italian catalogues. The staff were given new uniforms and their old ones given to the poor.
She hesitated over Sarah, not knowing in which category to place her, as she had in her mother’s absence taken on the temporary role of housekeeper. After some thought she had had made for her a dark grey dress with a large white collar. Had she intended to subdue the girl’s colouring with the shade, then her plans were thwarted, for Sarah’s hair stood out like a flame above the dark material.
Isaac, as soon as he was able, took himself back to his comfortable office in Hull. Though he was still in some discomfort and walked with a limp, leaning heavily on his cane, there were times when he preferred the bustle of the busy town and the rough voices of the seamen to the constant demands of Isobel and the mindless chatter and complaints of Lucy. He thought with pleasure of the gentle care Sarah had given him before his wife and daughter had returned. She had known in some inexplicable way when the pain was unbearable and stayed by his side, soothing him with medication and soft words, and withdrawing quietly when he needed to be alone. But she’d stopped coming after his wife’s return, as if sensing her displeasure, and confined herself to running the household as Mrs Masterson demanded.
‘Can I talk to you, Fayther?’ Deliberately Sarah had sought her father out as he walked home towards Field House after his day’s work.
She had watched him as he appeared over the fields with a sack of kindling over his shoulders and a pair of rabbits tied to a stick. He walked now with a slight stoop and, although he was wearing his long, strong knee boots which Mr Masterson had made for him every year, he limped badly as if in pain. His old wound had opened up and was often raw and bloody.
‘Aye, lass. What brings thee out of ’house. No work to do?’
She smiled ironically. ‘There’s always work to do at the Hall. Mrs Masterson never seems to be satisfied, nothing is ever quite right for her.’
‘Aye, well, thy ma is about ready to go back. She seems to be ’only one who can please ’mistress. I try to keep out of her road, she’s never got a civil word for me, but then she never did.’
A cold, hard look passed across his face momentarily and Sarah was surprised, for her father didn’t often complain, but it was gone in seconds and his eyes, which reflected the colour of the sea, smiled down at her. ‘But it doesn’t matter, Sal. We are very, very lucky. Tha won’t appreciate what we’ve got, having always had advantages. Tha’s never had owt different, but had we been still in ’town, why, thy ma would have died with this fever. We might even have been in ’charity home afore now.’
‘I know, Fayther.’ She had heard this tale so often in one form or other, always from her father, never from her mother. It was as if he was constantly having to convince himself that he had done the right thing in bringing them here. ‘That’s what I want to talk to you about. About Garston Hall!’
‘Aye, what about Garston Hall?’
‘I – I don’t think I can stay there any longer.’ Her words came out in a rush. ‘I don’t seem to fit in any more. There isn’t a place for me.’
‘No place for thee? There’s always a place there, for all of us, tha knows that. We have that security for ever. ’Mastersons would never turn us out, never. Look how Ma Scryven spent her last years there, even though she couldn’t do much work. Nay, only if we did summat really bad – otherwise we’re here for ever.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Tha’s not been upsetting Miss Lucy? Or—’ A sudden possibility crossed his mind. ‘Tha’s not been getting into trouble in London – stepping out of turn?’
‘Stepping out of turn! Would I do that, Fayther? Am I not always so careful not to offend that it’s second nature to me?’
‘Then what is it, lass?’ It was unusual for Sarah to become so agitated.
‘There isn’t a place for me there any more. Miss Lucy doesn’t need me. Oh, she thinks she does, when she wants someone to listen to her gossip, but she will be going away again soon and she might or might not expect me to go too. Or else I will be expected to stay here and become a housemaid under Ma.’