Chapter Seven
Mary
When the family moved to Askam, Mary, the eldest daughter, was thirteen years of age. In the opinion of her father, further schooling was pointless, she was a girl after all, and he encouraged her to take over the traditional role of an eldest daughter. Her mother balked at this, and insisted that Mary, along with her three siblings George, Dan, and Belle, attend the local school in nearby Kirby Ireleth. It soon became apparent however that the school had little to offer Mary. She was extremely intelligent, and her proficiency in the 3Rs matched that of Miss Wren, the beleaguered schoolmistress.
After only two months of school, the schoolmistress called in Mary and her parents for a consultation. By this time Annie had given birth to a third daughter Betty and the strain of caring for the sickly child was etched on her matronly features. Fatigue was evident in her slow movements, and in the way she lowered her remarkably tall frame in to the wooden chair facing the teacher's desk.
"Are you feeling O.K. Mrs. Benson?"
"I'm fine Miss. It's just a touch of arthritis."
"It must be hard work for you looking after four such energetic children and caring for the new baby."
"We manage. Mary here is a great help, but I feel that we ask too much of her. It must interfere with her school work."
Miss Wren smiled. "You have no worries on that score. Mary is by far and away my best pupil and that's what I would like to talk to you about. There's nothing more I can do for her here. She should be out looking for a position."
Pop Benson, who had made a pretense of ignoring the conversation by perusing the students' artistic efforts displayed on the classroom walls, interrupted.
"I told you Annie. She could have been at home all this time, helping you around the house."
"That's not what I want for her George. She's such a bright girl. She could make something of herself."
"Like what?" queried the father.
Miss Wren brought Mary in to the discussion. "Have you thought about what you would like to do Mary?"
The girl shyly shook her head.
"She's so good with her brothers and sisters, and has really helped with the baby. I think she could make another Florence Nightingale."
"Nursing's not for me mother. I'm just too squeamish."
"Have you thought about teaching?" asked Miss Wren
Pop Benson guffawed. "Doesn't that require more schooling? We can barely afford to keep her at school now. Training College would be way beyond our means."
"I think I have a way round that Mr. Benson."
"Go on."
"As you are probably aware this is an endowed school, and there is a small sum set aside for the salary of a teacher's assistant. It is far too small a sum to attract a fully qualified teacher, but maybe Mary would be interested. She is more than capable."
Mary's face beamed.
"How much?" asked Pop.
"20 pounds per annum."
"Not bad for a girl," he grumped. "What do you think Annie? Will you be able to manage without her?"
Mary gave her mother no chance to reply.
"Oh it won't be bad Mom You'll only have to deal with Betty during the day and I promise to really help out at night and the weekends. I promise. I promise."
Annie nodded. "I know you will my dear. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity. I'm in favour as long as you save your money to pay for college."
"I promise."
Pop thought this a complete waste of money. He planned to have her married off long before she was eligible for college.
Miss Wren ran the one-roomed school on the monitor system. Older, more intelligent students studied a topic. When they had mastered it to her satisfaction, they in turn taught the same topic to a small group of students in need of instruction. Mary, as assistant, had the task of helping the students experiencing difficulties. The major problem she encountered was dealing with the surly behaviour of brother Dan. and sister Belle, both of whom frequented her remedial group. The fear of the strap dangling on the wall at home prevented outright rebellion, but it was obvious they resented her attempts at aid. George, on the other hand, never needed help with his schoolwork.
Her success in the classroom came to the attention of Mrs. Kendal, the vicar's wife, who enquired whether she would she be interested in teaching Sunday school. Mary willingly accepted, thinking the more practice the better. A friendship developed, and Mary confided her desire for betterment, a desire to escape the ceaseless toil and frequent pregnancies that her mother had endured.
"Have you ever considered becoming a nanny, or even better a governess with some wealthy family?" asked the vicar's wife.
"I don't have the training for that," Mary replied.
"Oh I disagree! You're well on the way. You just need a little finishing."
"Finishing? What's that?"
"A little more polish. A little more sophistication."
"And where do I get that?"
"At the vicarage if you wish."
Mary mentioned the offer to her mother who immediately sensed the opportunity. She remembered the governess at Holker Hall, a wonderfully refined lady, who had married well, far above her station. Without consulting her husband, she gave Mary permission to call.
The vicar's wife, Penelope, or Penny as her friends knew her, was glad to be of help. She appreciated the company, as her husband, a much older man, was an overzealous Anglican devoting every waking hour to the welfare of his flock, at the expense of marital bliss. Soon they became fast friends. Penny encouraged Mary to set her sights far above the local yokels. To this end, she taught Mary to play the piano reasonably well, developed her beautiful singing voice, taught her to read Victorian poetry in a pleasing manner, and even taught her a smattering of French.
Together, when time permitted, they rambled over the nearby fells, strolled along the shore, or shared their love of gardening in the spacious grounds of the vicarage. On one such outing they decided to follow the course of the river Duddon. About two miles upstream from the lowest bridge crossing, they entered a wood that concealed a deep rock lined pool. The day was so hot. the trees offered some shade, and the water looked so refreshing.
"Let's stop here for a while and cool off," suggested Penny. "There's a nice flat rock over there where we can sit and rest our weary feet."
Mary's work boots were definitely not designed for walking and the trek up the rocky river bed had caused her heels to blister. The thought of soaking her tortured feet and sore ankles in the pool proved irresistible. She willingly agreed to stop.
The two women made their way to the rock and with their burning feet dangling in the languid waters silently munched on the watercress sandwiches they had packed for lunch. After a dessert of fresh strawberries and a drink of rather warm lemonade, they decided to rest, laying down side by side on the rock, their feet still immersed in the water. The rays of the sun reverberated off the rocks. The temperature rose. The ankle length brown dresses, buttoned up long sleeved blouses and straw boaters, that were de rigueur for female hikers of the time, did not help. Finally Penny broke.
"To Hell with convention. Let's do something wicked. Let's skinny dip."
Dumbfounded, Mary watched as the vicar's wife ripped off her belt, lowered her skirt and petticoat, unbuttoned her blouse, and stripped down to her underwear. She didn't stop there. With an alarming lack of modesty, she removed the final layer and with a shriek jumped in to the pool.
"Come on in Mary. The water's lovely."
"But I can't swim Penny."
"You don't have to. Look I'm standing here and it's only waist deep."
Mary glanced down. Penny was indeed standing on the bottom, her hands raised above her head accentuating her shapely breasts, a mischievous smile on her face. "Come on Mary. Be a sport."
Mary was by nature extremely modest, but she was so hot, and it was highly unlikely that they would be disturbed in this remote spot. She turned her back to Penny and disrobed. She was not proud of her tall thin body and lack of a bosom.
"Turn away Penny so that I can jump in."
"Don't be so shy, Mary."
"Turn away or I'm not coming in."
"Alright, if you insist."
Penny turned; Mary nervously approached the rock edge. In attempting to jump, her right foot slipped on the smooth rock and she plunged headlong in to the pool. Panic-stricken she flailed about, completely submerged, desperately attempting to gain a foothold on the slimy bottom. Every time she attempted to raise herself above the surface, she would slip to her knees and grovel on the bottom. Her lungs were bursting. She was going to drown.
Penny responded immediately to the ungainly entry, but had great difficulty coming to grips with the wildly thrashing young woman. It was impossible to grasp her by the arm so she took a deep breath dove under and wrapped her arms around the struggling girl's waist. She then stood and raising her arms under Mary's armpits brought her upright. As they surfaced, Mary turned to face Penny. Nothing was said. Mary was trembling and starting to cry. Penny attempted to comfort her with an embrace, a naked embrace that lasted a little too long.
Gingerly, Penny took Mary by the hand and led her to the shore. Shock set in. Mary started to shiver uncontrollably. Penny told Mary to sit on the rock and reached for her own petticoat to dry off the trembling girl's goose fleshed skin. She then helped Mary back on to her feet and in to her clothes. Mary's trembling fingers could not handle the blouse. Penny obliged. Standing stark naked in front of Mary she slowly buttoned up the blouse. Mary involuntarily let her eyes stray over the exposed flesh of her rescuer, then in to Penny's shining crystal blue eyes. Mary shuddered; not from shock this time, but from the desire she felt. Mortified, she pushed Penny away.
After this incident, the frequency of visits to the vicarage decreased and Mary gave up teaching Sunday school. Penny, unaware of the true reason, enquired as to why. Mary claimed that she had no time for outside activities because of family commitments. There was some truth to this as her mother's arthritic condition was worsening and she needed help to cope with sister Betty's ill health and the rambunctious behaviour of the newly arrived infant Bill. Eventually her mother's condition deteriorated to such an extent that she had to give up her school teaching. Temporarily she hoped, but deep down she felt that her teaching career was over. As for being a governess, no opportunities had presented themselves, and they probably never would.
Pop Benson was quite content with this development. By now, he was convinced she would never marry. She was such a scrawny, skinny thing and seemed to have no interest in the lads, nor they in her. Understandably so, with the high faluting manners she had picked up from that busy body at the vicarage. But no matter, she was a wonderful help around the house, and would probably go along with his plan for the family.