Cathy Sharp - The Winter Orphan

The chatter had turned to other things then, but Bella did not forget the woman who had lost her mind. When the poor lost woman had given birth, Bella had been sent to the sickroom with cloths and saw a healthy child born – but later she heard that Jane had been told it was dead and, in pity, stole a cup of milk and some soft bread from the kitchen and took it to her. The woman had looked so sad and ill and Bella had felt drawn to her. Poor Jane had wept and thanked her and her tears had remained in Bella’s memory.

Bella saw everything that went on in the workhouse. She was small and slight and no one took much notice of her – unless the mistress chanced to look her way when she felt inclined to punish someone. Bella had seen Jane’s babe carried from the workhouse one evening, two days after the birth, wrapped in a thick blanket. It could only have been Jane’s babe, for there were no others in the house, and she knew that the babes of young unmarried mothers were routinely sold to people willing to pay for them; fine ladies who longed for a child and could not bear them would pay well for a healthy babe, particularly a boy. If a family entered the workhouse and a woman gave birth, she would be allowed to keep her babe until the father took them out in the spring to find work. Only if the woman was alone and had no one to help her was the babe stolen from her.

Bella had felt so sorry for the woman they had named Jane. It was the reason she’d gone down to the yard the previous night and told Jane that her child lived and what she’d seen. She had tried to help her, but she’d been caught when she was returning to the dormitory and that was why she was sitting on the stairs now, awaiting the mistress’s summons. She knew she would be beaten and it would hurt, but she would try not to cry. Mistress Brent liked to see her cry and would just beat her all the harder.

‘Bella, come here!’ She rose and walked up the last few stairs to the woman waiting for her and her heart raced wildly. Mistress Brent was smiling and that meant trouble. She was looking forward to inflicting punishment. Bella was sure it made her happy to see others in pain and distress. ‘Come in, girl.’

Bella went into the dark room that the mistress called her office. There was a desk and a chair and a mahogany tallboy, in which she kept her cane, her papers and other things, but no pictures or ornaments or anything personal.

‘You stole from the kitchens last night. No, do not try to lie to me. It is the only reason you would be coming from the kitchens late at night – and, I’ll swear, it is not the first time,’ Mistress Brent said and glared at her. ‘You will be beaten and then you will go without supper. I despise thieves – and I have decided that I shall not keep you here. The gypsy threatened that I should be cursed if I sold you and swore she would come back for you – but she lied. I no longer believe in her or her curse.’

‘What gypsy?’ Bella looked at her fearfully, for it was the first she had heard of this curse. ‘I do not understand you.’

‘No, nor shall you – but know that you are scum, the child of a whore, and deserve all that you get. Your mother deserted you, left you to die in the snow on the church steps and then gave up her worthless life. You are cursed and I should have sold you years ago but I thought – well, now it is time.’ She shook her head as if shaking off something that haunted her, a flicker of something like fear in her eyes. ‘Yes, I shall keep you no more, for you have proved that you are a thankless wretch.’

Bella shivered, the terror mounting inside her. She had been beaten before and half-starved – but from the look in the mistress’s eyes there was worse in store for her.

Raising her head, she looked into the cold eyes that raked over her. ‘I do not care if you sell me – anywhere would be better than here!’

‘You think so, do you?’ Fire flashed in the mistress’s eyes. She was angry and Bella was suddenly frightened. She had spoken out of turn and defiance was always met with more punishment. ‘You may think you are ill-treated here, girl, but there are other places much worse and you will soon discover that you had a life of ease here within these walls.’

Bella kept her head high, but inside she was frozen with terror. What did the mistress intend to do with her?

‘It is time you knew the truth of who and what you are! Your mother was an impertinent bitch too,’ Mistress Brent said harshly. ‘She came here weeks before you were born but she was too proud to accept her lot and she defied me.’ A cruel smile touched her mouth. ‘She begged me to send you to her sister if she died but I refused and so she ran away. I know not how she lived, but she came back here, begging to be let in hours before she gave birth to you. I turned her away and she crawled off to die in the fields where she belonged. However, the vicar found you at his door and brought you to me, demanding that I take you in. She had wrapped you in her own wool shawl – far too good for one of her kind! – and so I knew you for her brat. I kept you here to let you learn humiliation, but it seems you are as defiant as the bitch that spawned you. So now you will learn to regret you defied me …’

Thin spittle had come from the mistress’s mouth as she ranted, trickling down her chin. Her eyes flashed with temper and her arm jerked back and forth as she lashed Bella’s back and shoulders.

‘The gypsy came one night. She threatened me with terrible things if I did not keep you and care for you, but she never came back.’ Mistress Brent’s arm arced once more, bringing down the cane across Bella’s shoulders. ‘She dared to threaten me – but I’ll not harbour a gypsy brat a moment longer!’

Bella set her teeth, refusing to cry out as the thin stick bit into the flesh on her legs and back. The tears would come later as she lay in her bed being tended by some of the women, but no – it seemed that this time she would not be given even that courtesy. She was to be sold to a new master.

‘Defy me to the end, would you? Well, you leave tonight. You will feel the pain as your wounds fester and the maggots eat your flesh, and then see if you do not feel like crawling back to beg my pardon,’ she said and laughed. ‘But do not bother, for I shall not admit you.’

Bella raised her head and looked at her. ‘You are a wicked evil woman. You lie and you steal people’s babies – and I hope you rot in Hell!’

Mistress Brent lashed out, striking her across the face twice. ‘Get downstairs! Someone will come for you soon.’ She thrust Bella from her room and pushed her so that she stumbled on the stairs outside, but managed to save herself from falling.

Bella’s face and legs stung and her back felt sore and tender as she walked slowly to the bottom of the stairs and made her way towards the hall. Florrie was waiting there and she looked at her with pity in her eyes.

‘Why did you do it, Bella? If you were hungry I would have given you some of my food.’

‘I took some food to Jane whose child they stole,’ Bella said as the tears coursed down her cheeks. ‘They lied to her and I told her the truth – the babe lives.’

‘Oh, Bella, no wonder the mistress picks on you,’ Florrie said sighing. ‘Let me bathe your legs and back.’

‘Mistress said I was to wait here until someone came.’

‘Well, they can ask for you. I’ll not let you go before I tend your hurts, child.’

‘I don’t want you to be in trouble …’

‘Oh, she dare not punish me for Lady Rowntree favours me and I could ask for a position in her house. I stayed here because of you, Bella, and my friends – but if she raised her hand to me I would leave.’

Bella let Florrie lead her to the kitchen where her hurts were tended and she was given a cup of milk and a piece of bread to eat. She had ceased crying when another woman came looking for her.