The Girl from the Tanner's Yard

day at Black Moss. She’d have a wash once she had heard what her father had to say; whatever it was it must be urgent, as he never ventured into their bedroom. Not like her mother, who usually stirred Lucy from her sleep if she had overslept. She’d have to get a move on anyway; she had to get to work, milk the cow and see what Adam Brooksbank wished her to do that day. As she ventured down the stairs she noticed that her parents’ bedroom door was still closed. It was usually open to the world, and her mother could normally be heard stoking the fire and seeing that everyone was fed before going about their work or getting ready for school, in the case of her two younger brothers. She feared the worst as she walked down the creaking wooden stairs into the kitchen.

Bill stood at the kitchen window looking out into the yard, where his workers were already starting on the day’s toil. He watched as a cartload of new animal skins was delivered and Thomas Farrington directed the men where to put them. Bill was thinking to himself that Thomas was a good worker and it was a pity he was not blessed with the most pleasant of natures, and that some people even thought he was not quite right in the head. He turned as he heard Lucy come into the room. He’d been dreading having to tell her the news, as it wasn’t something that a man talked about with his daughter.

‘Now then, our Lucy. Your mother’s had a bad night. I don’t know if you’d realized, but we were going to be expecting another one into our family. But the good Lord decided against it and she miscarried it, early on this morning. It’s a blessing that she was only a few weeks with child, so there’s no harm come to your mother, but she’ll need a day or so in bed. You’ll have to stay at home today and look after your brothers and sisters, instead of tending to What’s-his-name up at Black Moss.’ Bill looked at his eldest daughter and saw a look of doubt and concern come across her face.

‘Is Mother alright? And what about the baby?’ Lucy gasped.

‘Your mother’s alright; give her a day of peace and she’ll be right as rain. There was no baby, or nothing that looked like a baby. She was only a few weeks gone – more blood than anything,’ Bill lied. ‘Her bedding is in the corner over there. It’ll need washing, and I dare say a cup of tea would be welcomed by her, once you’ve lit the fire and seen to the rest of them’s needs. I’m off out to the yard; there’s a delivery come and I’ll have to sort the men out.’ Bill looked at the doubt on Lucy’s face and knew that she realized he was lying.

‘I’ll see to the fire and put a brew on. I’ll bring you one out to the yard, along with some bread and dripping for your breakfast. I’ll send our Nathan on his way to school to tell Adam Brooksbank what has happened, and that I’ll be back with him as soon as I can. I’m sure he will understand.’ Lucy bowed her head and thought about her mother recovering upstairs from yet another lost baby.

‘Aye, well, he can please himself what he thinks. Your mother and your family come first and, just this once, you are needed at home. Make sure that Nathan doesn’t go into what ails your mother.’ Bill scowled as he closed the kitchen door. The fewer people who knew about the business, the better. Besides, it was women’s business and not to be shared with the likes of Adam Brooksbank.

Lucy sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and looked around her. So it had happened again – another baby lost, and no tears from her father and no explanation of what had happened to the poor lost soul’s body. Her mother had been more than a few weeks pregnant. Her father was a fool if he thought he could get away with that lie. She’d seen her mother being sick, so she was definitely more than a few weeks gone. Lucy didn’t want to think the worst of her parents, but couldn’t help but think that perhaps they were killing the babies on purpose. She’d heard that in Keighley there were women who got rid of babies that were unwanted, and her mother had visited Keighley only the previous day. What if she had visited one of these women and got a potion or suchlike? It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘Now then, our lass. Where’s our mother? The fire’s not lit, and my breakfast’s not ready. What’s going on?’ Nathan pulled his braces over his twill shirt and slumped down in the chair next to Lucy.

‘Mam’s not well. You’ll have to wait until I get the fire lit, then I’ll make you a brew. Go into the pantry and bring me a loaf out. You and William can make do with bread and dripping this morning, else you won’t have time to do what I’m going to ask you to do before school.’ Lucy stood up and riddled the embers in the hearth and opened the door of the side-oven, where a handful of sticks had been drying overnight for use as kindling that morning. She screwed up a sheet or two of newspaper from next to her father’s chair and placed it and the kindling sticks on the still-warm ashes, adding a lump or two of coal from the scuttle in the hearth, before wiping her hands on her apron as the flames leaped and caught hold.

‘I don’t want to bloody well go and see your fancy fella and tell him you’re not going to work today. It’s a right trail up to that spot, and I promised I’d meet Stanley Hodgson and we were