‘I too have known grief. I lost both my wife and my unborn child when I was younger, so I can understand a little of your pain. Has your wife seen a doctor? Is there a reason for her miscarriages?’ Adam sat down across from Lucy, his coat still dripping with the rain, but now his concern was for the man who sat across from him and the pain he was suffering.
‘Nay, a doctor will not do anything. Every woman loses babies – it’s a fact of life, and nowt can be done about it. I should have the sense to keep myself to myself and save her the heartache, instead of having my lustful way.’ Bill glanced quickly at Lucy and caught her blushes as her father talked so openly with her employer. ‘Besides, we’ve been blessed with five fit ’uns; that’s more than enough to feed and educate. And doctors cost money – something I have very little of, by the time I’ve paid the men their wages.’ Bill sighed. ‘We’ll just have to make the best of it. Dot is recovering now and, hopefully, this will be the last one we lose. Neither of us is getting any younger. Perhaps that’s what’s wrong this time.’
‘Well, now I know the reason for you not being with me, Lucy, I can fully understand. You stay at home until your mother’s strong enough to run her house and look after your siblings. Children come first. I am used to looking after myself, and a few days more will not hurt me.’ Adam looked across at Lucy, who seemed to be out of place in the dire conditions of the tannery owner’s humble home. Although the house was spotless, it was sparsely furnished, with the minimum of frills and pottery. Indeed, from the outside the whole row of houses looked dilapidated and in need of urgent repair. Perhaps the tannery was not doing so well and the Bancroft family was struggling. However, now he understood why Lucy had been fascinated by the story of Rebecca Town and the number of children she had borne and lost. It was true that life was cheap in the society they lived in, but Bill Bancroft was sitting across from him, grieving, and Adam felt for the man and his family.
‘I’ll be away now. If there’s anything I can do, you know where I am at.’ Adam stood up and looked down at the man, who could not be bothered to raise his head to acknowledge his departure. ‘Lucy, there’s no rush back. Look after your mother and these little ones.’ Adam smiled down at baby Bert, whose cheeks were bright red and whose nose was running with snot.
‘Sorry, sir, he’s teething. It’s his birthday tomorrow – he’ll be one, although he’s a lazy one, he’s not even walking properly yet. Susie and I were walking a long time before that. It’s lads that are always slow. Still are, seeing that my brother never delivered my message to you. Just wait until he gets home – I’ll give him what for.’ Lucy shook her head.
‘No, leave him be. He’ll have had better things to do. I remember what it was like to be his age, and life was full of more important things than running errands for big sisters.’ Adam laughed.
‘I thank you, sir, for being so understanding,’ a weak voice from the bottom of the stairs whispered, as Dorothy stood, still in her nightdress, holding the bottom of the stair rail. ‘Lucy will be back with you tomorrow. I aim to be back on my feet then.’
‘Mother, go back to bed – you are still unsteady on your feet.’ Lucy went to her mother’s aid as Dorothy walked hesitantly to sit on the chair next to her youngest daughter. She smiled as Susie looked at her and carried on playing with her dolls.
‘I heard voices, and I knew that you would be sitting blaming yourself, Bill. Now, I’m on the mend. I’m not about to leave this earth just yet, so we’ll have none of this gloom. There’s enough of that outside, with the weather. Bill, come on now – your men need you. And I thank you, Mr Brooksbank, for showing your concern. We’ve lost a baby, but it happens every day. My mother lost one or two, of that I’m sure.’ Dorothy gave a wan smile.
‘Aye, lass, go back to bed. I’ll stir my shanks and get back out there, now I know that you are looking a bit livelier.’ Bill stood up and looked still dark in mood, but knew that he had to do as his wife said, else his yard would not be running smoothly, despite his faith in Thomas Farrington. ‘I’ll walk out with Mr Brooksbank here, although I’ll be drenched to the skin within minutes, as the weather shows no kindness towards us, either.’
‘Come, we will walk out together. Now, Lucy, you take care of your mother, and return only when she is fit and well enough to leave. You are needed here more than with me. Besides, the weather means I can’t be out on my land, so I can keep my own house until this weather lifts.’ Adam walked out behind Bill, who glanced backwards at his wife and family before closing the kitchen door behind them both.
‘Bill, I noticed when I walked down your yard that all the water and waste are running down this ginnel and nearly into the same place as you draw your water from. You don’t think there’s something in the water you are all drinking that causes your wife to keep miscarrying? I only say this because over in Haworth they have had a lot of deaths and disease, and that was because of
