‘I’ll never do that. Me walk out with you – I’d rather die! You are a filthy, despicable man and I don’t know why my father employs you. I hate you. I’ll never marry you,’ Lucy yelled at him.
‘Oh yes, you will, or else everything your father has worked for will disappear in the blink of an eye. And you will be so desperate that the prospect of marrying me will seem like heaven. Don’t think of saying anything about this to your father, either, else I’ll make more problems in that yard of his and he’ll soon find out who the real boss is. And it’s not him. Those men that work for him look up to me, not him.’ Thomas forced another kiss from Lucy and then pushed her further into the thorn bush. ‘Saturday evening, six o’clock, here – else it will be the worse for you.’ He threw Lucy to the ground and stood over her. ‘And I expect more than a kiss. After all, you’ve promised more to every man you’ve flirted with, so now it’s time to show me what you’ve got.’
Thomas leered over her and then spat next to her. He would have her, if not by fair means, then by foul. It had been a good night when he had seen Bill burying the family shame, and Bill had played straight into his hands. He swaggered off down the lane back home to satisfy himself, before going for a drink at The Fleece.
Lucy lay, distressed and crying, in the roadside, thankful that she had not been raped or worse, as she watched her filthy attacker walking down the road towards the flay-pits. What was she to do? Thomas Farrington knew everything, and he could ruin her family with just a few words to the police down in Denholme. She’d no option but to meet him on Saturday night, but she’d no intention of ever marrying the manipulative, horrible bastard. For now, she would keep out of his way and not say anything to anyone about the attack. Come Saturday night, she would be more prepared. And if Thomas thought he was going to lay a finger on her, he could think again, because she might flirt with men, but she would never lift her skirts for any man – especially a man like Thomas Farrington.
‘Are you alright, Lucy? You seem quiet this morning.’ Dorothy looked at her normally chatty daughter, as she buttoned up her boots before setting out to walk up to Black Moss.
‘I’m fine, Mother, just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.’ Lucy looked up at her mother and wanted to tell her about Thomas Farrington’s threat, but didn’t wish to give her more worry.
‘Don’t you work too hard for that Adam Brooksbank. You’ll get no thanks off that sort, and you never do. They take everything for granted.’ Dorothy looked at the white face of her daughter as she stirred the porridge for everyone’s breakfast.
‘He’s not like that, Mam. He looks after me well and never asks too much of me.’ Lucy quickly defended her boss.
‘Aye, well, you can sit down and have some breakfast before you go up there. You look pale and if you get any thinner, there will be nowt left of you. It’s alright watching your figure, but you need something inside you in order to work.’ Dorothy shoved a bowl of steaming porridge in front of Lucy and watched as she pulled a face at the breakfast being thrust under her nose.
‘I’m not hungry, Mam, and I’m going to be late. Give it to our Nathan.’
Lucy grabbed her shawl, not giving her mother the chance to reply as, out of character, she left her home by the front door, rather than walk out of the back door and through the yard, where she knew Thomas Farrington would already be at work. She didn’t want to set eyes on the man. She hated him and the more she thought about meeting him on the coming Saturday, the more she realized that she could not do it, no matter what his threat. He’d have to carry out his threat; or perhaps she could move what was left of the poor babies buried under the lime without anybody knowing. Both thoughts filled her with fear as she climbed up the lane that led to Black Moss Farm, passing the hedge where Thomas had attacked her. The scratches of the thorn tree were still sore on her back, and her blouse had been torn by his aggression. And she was filled with terror as she remembered the look in his eyes and the way he had treated her. There was no way she would ever marry a man like that and ruin her life. No good would come of such a union, so she had to think of a way to thwart his threats. And she would rather die than lie next to him every night of her life.
The morning was warm, but it made no difference to Lucy as she walked up the road to the farmhouse. The weather could have been doing anything and she would not have noticed, she was so lost in her worries. Walking through the farmyard, she was thankful for the refuge of Black Moss – she was safe there. Thomas Farrington would not dare bother her there, and Adam Brooksbank would defend her, if ever he dared to. She could relax and go about her business until it was time for her to walk home again. And with today being Thursday, she would ask Archie to wait for her and would walk back home with him. Archie would never even think of doing the things Thomas Farrington had done to her, with his filthy hands groping her breasts.
