A Loveless Marriage

Chapter 6: Mary

The stench of decay permeated the air and filled my lungs.  Damp had eaten away at the ceiling above my bed, revealing the wooden slats below. Wallpaper, old and yellow, peeled away leaving the crumbling plaster visible.  I lay on mouldy blankets, gazing up at the patterns in the ceiling stains.  For three, miserable days I had barely moved, almost paralysed by fear and self-pity.  I was scared of my future, scared of the destitution outside my door.  The streets outside were full of poverty, people with tired faces and hungry eyes. The shadow of the workhouse cast gloom across them all.

Exhaustion washed over me.  I wanted to give up, to close my eyes and not open them again.

  "But if I died, what would become of Her?" I asked the empty room.

The weight of my burden pressed down on my chest.  Whilst she needed me, I could not give in to my melancholy. It was my duty to carry on, I could not break my promise to my dearest Papa. How ashamed he would be to see me wallowing in self-pity right now.  He would have brought me a cup of tea, tickled my neck and told me "worse things happen at sea".  He would have been right.

Thirst took hold of me and I realised how long it had been since I had drunk a cup of tea. My misery was overtaken by my desire for tea and prompted by my craving, I struggled to my feet.  A glimpse in the broken shard of mirror confirmed my grimmest fears about my appearance.  My face was tear-stained and streaked with dust, I could not be seen in public like this.  There was a still some water in the chipped cream jug, I poured it into the bowl and did my best to clean off the grime.  Once my face was returned to its peachy cleanness, I donned a fresh skirt and blouse and set off on my quest for the Lyon's Tea Shop.

A smiling girl my age, crisp and fresh in starched lined brought me a cup of tea and a toasted teacake. My thirst felt almost unquenchable but my hunger had not returned.  As I forced myself to eat, I scanned the wanted adverts in The Times, looking for suitable positions to alleviate my poverty. There were enough positions, but I could apply to a hundred in vain if Agatha Chorley would not write me a good character witness. I poured myself another cup and stared at my reflection in the tea. 

There was only one thing for it.  Taking a deep gulp of tea, I steeled myself to write a letter to William to ask for his assistance.  My cheeks burned red as I attempted to strike a delicate balance in my note. I wanted his assistance but not his pity.  All I wanted was for him to reason with his aunt, that was all. I stared at the black ink words on the letter, unable to lie to myself like this. That was not all I wanted.  I wanted him to persuade Agatha Chorley of her mistake, I wanted him to convince her to restore me to the position of her companion.  As wretched as my life was with her, it was all I had known since I was seventeen.  My hands trembled as I took my cup to my lips, there were some things even tea could not fix. As I walked slowly back to my boarding house, my heart felt weary with every step.

I climbed the narrow steps up to my dusty little bedroom, only a little restored by my lunch.  As I opened the door, I saw with a mixture of horror and surprise that the room was not empty.  My first reaction was almost to laugh, Mr Frederick Wilkes looked so out of place there, with his impeccable suit and smooth hair.  When he saw me, he gave a frustratingly charming smile.

  "You?" I said.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Taylor," he said with studious politeness.

  "If you don't leave my room at once, I will scream," I threatened.

  "I'm not sure your neighbours would pay much heed," came his smooth reply.  "And I have found to my delight that your landlady is bribed very cheaply.

All my sadness turned to humiliation and anger.  I bristled at the shame of being discovered in such a place, by him of all people.  Worst even than the smug smile on his face was the fact that he was right. Shrieks and screams were not uncommon here, especially once the drunks had returned from the public-house to beat their long-suffering wives.  The cries went on into the night and nobody interfered.  Mr Wilkes gave a wink as he strode over to where I stood and pulled the door behind me closed.