The Dream Begins Read online

  ‘They said I wanted them to do it. I heard them. They told Auntie Betty and Auntie Maggie that I was asking for it … that …’

  ‘No one believed them, Anna.’

  ‘Auntie Maggie, Auntie Betty, and Auntie Jenny did something to the Paskeys. I heard screaming.’

  ‘They hurt one of them and both the Paskeys are in custody. Try to forget them.’ Sarah stroked Anna’s hair away from her face.

  ‘The sergeant said I’d have to tell people what the Paskeys did …’ Anna sobbed. ‘I should have fought harder. I should have run away. I should have …’

  ‘Perhaps the police can find a way to punish the Paskeys without you having to go to court. I’ll ask the doctor to talk to the sergeant.’

  ‘Will you? Please! I never want to see them again. Ever! Please, Mrs Edwards, don’t make me …’

  ‘No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to, Anna. Not if I can help it.’ Sarah settled her back on the pillows. ‘Try to rest. There’s a bell on the bedside cabinet. If you need anything ring and I’ll come. I’ll leave the tea and toast. Don’t let the tea go cold.’

  Chapter Three

  Dr Edwards’ house

  High Street, Merthyr, June 1870

  Peter was leaving Richard’s room when Sarah walked on to the landing.

  ‘Have you told him about Anna?’

  Peter held his finger to his lips. He didn’t answer her until they were downstairs. ‘I told him the Paskeys attacked her. I didn’t tell him they raped her.’

  ‘I don’t think he should be told.’

  ‘Better we tell the boy than he hears it from someone else. He will find out sooner rather than later, Sarah.’

  ‘It will devastate Anna if he does. Consider Anna’s feelings, Peter.’ She led the way into the drawing room. ‘She’s been shamed.’

  ‘For pity’s sake, it’s not her fault the Paskeys raped her.’

  ‘I know that but she doesn’t. She even said she should have fought harder.’

  ‘Against those louts? No grown woman, let alone a young girl would have stood a chance.’

  ‘She can’t bear the thought of people knowing what the Paskeys did to her. People talk, Peter.’

  ‘Of course they do. I’ve no doubt they already are.’

  ‘Her reputation will be ruined.’

  ‘It already is. Do you think the women in the court will keep quiet? Even if by some miracle they did, Ianto’s in the infirmary. Nurses, porters, and doctors talk. It’ll be all over the valley by now that he’s been emasculated.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking.’ She sat in the chair next to the hearth.

  ‘And?’ he asked warily sitting opposite her.

  ‘Richard’s travelling to Russia with us, why don’t we take Anna as well?’

  ‘A young girl! For heaven’s sake, Sarah. What’s she going to do there? Given her precarious mental condition …’

  ‘Which is hardly her fault. With care, rest, and help, she will recover.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Not entirely,’ she replied truthfully.

  ‘Whether she will or won’t, she’ll need more care than we can give. We won’t have time to look after her.’

  ‘We’ll have nothing else to do on the journey, especially on the boat, but care for Richard and Anna.’

  ‘And if they haven’t recovered by journey’s end?’

  ‘As you said, they’re young, strong. With you to doctor them, they’ll recover.’

  ‘Flattery won’t win you this argument, Sarah. How is Anna going to earn a living in Russia? Mine coal alongside her brother?’

  ‘She can work with me in the hospital. I’ll start her as a ward maid. If she shows promise I’ll train her as a nurse.’

  ‘Nurse? She’s twelve years old.’

  ‘I left the Whitechapel workhouse and began as a ward maid in the infirmary on my tenth birthday. Richard will be living with us. He and his sister will be company for one another when they’re not working.’

  ‘And the two younger brothers? Are you suggesting we take them as well?’

  ‘They could lodge with us. They’re working in the drift mine now. Russia? Here? What’s the difference, the work’s the same.’

  ‘We haven’t been married a year. We’re barely used to living with one another. The last thing I want is to adopt four orphans before we have our own children.’

  ‘I’m not suggesting we adopt them and it’s not as though they would be a financial drain. Glyn said there’s enough work for everyone who wants it. He’ll find positions for the boys in his colliery once it’s sunk, and until it is they can labour for the construction workers.’

  ‘I’ll grant you that’s the boys taken care of, apart from their accommodation, but that could be a problem.’ Peter wrapped his arms around her after she moved from her chair onto his lap. ‘Glyn warned conditions are going to be rough for everyone at first, and rough means shortages, including housing. I categorically refuse to share a bedroom with the Parry boys. So you can stop trying to wheedle me into this.’

  ‘There’ll be dormitories for the male workers. Won’t there?’

  ‘Probably, but there might not be enough beds in them for the boys and what about Anna? I understand you feeling sorry for the girl but are you sure you’re prepared to take responsibility for her, especially after what she’s been through? You’ll have a hospital to run. That has to come first.’

  ‘It will after you and our marriage.’ Sarah left his lap and went to the window. ‘I’ve told you everything there is to know about me, Peter. But I’m not sure you understand what it’s like to be orphaned and grow up in a workhouse.’

  ‘No one’s going to send Anna to the workhouse. She has a live-in position in the Boot. She’s been working for Betty for some time.’

  ‘Betty’s going to Russia with Glyn. Who’s going to run the Boot Inn when she leaves?’

  ‘Her father. He owns the place.’

  ‘Busy as he’ll be, he’s going to care for Anna?’ Sarah was sceptical.

  ‘He’s hired a housekeeper to take Betty’s place.’

  ‘Do you think a housekeeper will be able to give Anna the care she needs? Think what it will be like for her if she stays in Merthyr where everyone knows she’s been raped. Girls who’ve been used that way once are considered “fair game” by men.’

  ‘That’s outrageous!’

  ‘Is it, Peter?’

  ‘Not all men think that way. I wouldn’t.’

  ‘You’re a saint. I had a friend in the workhouse who’d been raped by her uncle when she was nine years old. Her father took her to the parish guardians because he didn’t want her around her younger sisters lest she lead them astray. The guardians decided she was in need of moral guidance and sent her to the workhouse. Every time she went in the yard the boys called her a slut and tried to pull up her dress. She couldn’t stand it. The day after her tenth birthday she walked to the top floor of the workhouse and threw herself down the stairwell. She killed herself but it wasn’t quick. She took three days to die.’

  ‘You had a foul childhood.’

  ‘No inmate of the orphanage wing of Whitechapel Workhouse had a childhood.’

  ‘Do you think Anna will try to kill herself?’ Peter asked seriously.

  ‘If she’s left in Merthyr with people who know what happened to her, yes.’

  ‘You really want to take her to Russia with us?’

  She looked down the street. A crowd of women were gossiping outside the grocer’s. She imagined their conversation.

  ‘Have you heard about Anna Parry and what the Paskeys did to her … stripped stark naked … raped … beaten …’

  ‘Sarah?’ Peter prompted.

  She faced him. ‘A fresh start away from this town and people who know what the Paskeys did to her might help Anna. But you’re right, there’s no way of knowing for certain whether she’ll recover or not.’

  ‘She’ll be travelling and l
iving with us and we know what happened to her. As do Glyn and Betty.’

  ‘She knows we can be trusted not to tell anyone about it.’

  ‘You want us to try to keep the knowledge of what the Paskeys did from her brother?’

  ‘The Paskeys beat Richard. We’ll tell him they did the same to her.’

  ‘You’ve already made the decision to take her with us, haven’t you?’

  ‘If I’d done that I wouldn’t be discussing it with you.’

  He smiled. ‘Sweetheart, you’d better ask Edward, Judith, Glyn, Betty, and the boys over for tea tonight and see what they make of your scheming.’

  ‘I’ve had a word with Glyn and Edward. They called when you were at the infirmary.’

  ‘Did they now?’ He left his chair and locked his arms around her waist.

  ‘Glyn said Betty’s grown fond of the two younger boys in the short time she’s been looking after them and Richard and Anna are more or less old enough to look after themselves.’

  ‘I’d say given the present state of them, rather less than more.’

  ‘They’ll recover thanks to your doctoring. You won’t mind adding an extended family to our household in Russia, will you?’

  ‘You accept the Parrys are too young to be independent?’

  ‘At the moment but they’ll soon grow up.’

  ‘I give in. We’ll take the Parrys with us but I reserve the right to have a quiet word in Mr Hughes’s ear about that hospital he’s building. It might be advantageous if a set of rooms for the use of the resident doctor and matron is incorporated in the plans so we can live on site until our house is ready, and if we do, the Parrys will have to live elsewhere.’

  ‘We’ll need dormitories in the hospital for the ward maids and porters. The Parrys can sleep there and share meals with us. I knew you’d understand.’

  He kissed her. ‘You’re a soft touch, my love. But then if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have married me.’

  Merthyr Railway Station

  July 1870

  Peter reflected it was as well they were leaving for Russia on a weekday morning, not Sunday when only the furnace crews were ‘on shift’. As it was, everyone who could get time off – plus those who’d decided to play sick – had walked down to the station to see off the emigrants.

  The travellers’ luggage was piled at the end of the platform where the guard’s van would draw up. Betty alone had refused to relinquish her trunk and was sitting perched on top of it, Owen and Morgan standing like sentinel dogs either side of her. Alf, Glyn’s latest collier recruit, much to Edward’s annoyance, was watching over all three of them.

  ‘Anna, Richard …’ the boys ran to greet their brother and sister the moment Edward, Peter, and Sarah helped them from the carriage.

  Richard stared at his brothers. ‘You’re clean and well-dressed. New suits, caps, boots, shirts, where did you get them?’

  ‘Mr Edwards took us to the draper’s to be fitted out,’ Owen divulged.

  ‘He said we’d make enough money in Russia to pay him back.’ Morgan turned around so Anna and Richard could admire his clothes.

  ‘Given the way Mr Hughes and I intend to work you in Russia, you will, young man.’ Glyn walked over to them.

  ‘You and Anna look awful bad, Richard,’ Morgan commented.

  ‘Be glad you weren’t caught by the Paskeys or you’d look the same,’ Edward admonished.

  ‘Sorry, Richard, Anna.’

  Anna strained to give her brothers a smile. ‘I’ve never seen you two so well turned out. I hope you thanked Mr and Mrs Edwards.’

  ‘They did,’ Glyn answered for them. ‘You’d better go into the Ladies’ waiting room before my brother’s arm drops off and you fall down, my girl. That goes for you too, Richard, only it’ll have to be the general waiting room for you.’

  ‘Do you want a hand?’ Alf asked gruffly, choked by the sight of the bruises on Anna’s face.

  ‘We’ll manage, but thank you for asking, Mr Mahoney.’ Sarah took Anna’s weight from Peter at the door of the ‘Ladies Only’, while Edward and Peter helped Richard into the general waiting room.

  ‘Can we come with you, Anna?’ Morgan and Owen cried.

  ‘Not into the Ladies’ Waiting Room,’ Sarah said. ‘You’ll see your sister on the train.’

  ‘Stay with Mrs Edwards and help her with the luggage, boys.’ Weakened by the effort it had taken to get this far, Richard could barely stand.

  ‘We’ll see you and Anna on the train, Richard?’ Owen needed to hear confirmation.

  ‘Don’t forget to introduce yourselves again. I’m used to ragamuffins, not princes.’ Richard reached out to ruffle Owen’s hair and almost fell.

  Impatient, on edge, Glyn checked his pocket watch for the tenth time in as many minutes before pacing the length of the platform past the workers he’d recruited. Few were taking their families and several women were crying at the prospect of being parted from their husbands and sons.

  ‘The train will come when it’s ready, not before, Glyn.’ Amused by his younger brother’s uncharacteristic nervousness, Edward followed him.

  ‘It’s late.’ Glyn slipped his watch back into his waistcoat pocket.

  ‘Only by your watch, not the station clock.’ Edward gripped his younger brother’s shoulder. ‘I can’t believe we’re actually saying goodbye. I never thought John Hughes would make this insane scheme of his a reality. But here you are, off halfway across the world and not just on one of your trips.’

  ‘The trips will be the other way from now on.’

  ‘I’ll see you again?’ Edward’s question was a plea.

  Glyn’s voice was hoarse. ‘Of course. I’ll be back and forth, sorting out things. Not too often though given the length of the journey.’ Suddenly aware of the enormity of the step he was taking, Glyn was barely aware of what he was saying.

  ‘That sounds like a train.’ Sarah appeared in the doorway of the waiting room.

  ‘You’re right,’ Glyn confirmed as the engine steamed noisily into sight and drew up alongside the platform.

  Whistles blew. The guards flung open the doors of the carriages and luggage van. Porters swarmed forward, grabbing the trunks and packages heaped on the platform and hauling them on to the train.

  ‘Well, this is it, Edward.’ Glyn wanted to hug his eldest brother but aware of the people around them and not wanting to appear “soft” he held out his hand.

  Edward shook it vigorously before turning to Peter who’d emerged from the waiting room with Richard. ‘Both of you take care of one another and Sarah and Betty. And you, young man and young lady,’ he addressed Richard and Anna as Alf helped Richard to the train, ‘take care of yourselves and your brothers.’ He shook Richard’s hand and kissed Anna’s cheek, moving back when she shrank from his touch.

  ‘Edward, thank you for welcoming me into the family and all you’ve done for Peter and me. I’ll get Richard and Anna settled on the train.’ Sarah picked up her travelling bag.

  ‘I’ll never understand how my brother managed to persuade you to marry him, Sarah, I’m just glad for the sake of our family he did.’ Edward kissed her.

  Sarah returned his embrace, wrapped her arm around Anna, and ushered her forward, leaving Peter to say goodbye to Edward in privacy.

  ‘Thank you for everything, Mr Edwards. I’ll write.’ Richard called back to Edward.

  ‘Mind you do but I won’t be worrying about you, Anna, or your brothers. You’ll be in safe hands with my brothers and Alf. Make the most of the voyage. Get all the rest you can, while you can.’

  ‘Thank you for everything, Mr Edwards.’ Anna climbed the steps and disappeared into the train.

  Glyn looked for Betty. She was still sitting on her trunk. ‘Betty? It’s time to move. Our luggage will be perfectly safe in the guard’s van.’

  Betty continued to sit, impervious to the combined efforts of three porters and Alf to dislodge her.

  ‘Time to go, Betty.’

 
‘I’m sorry, Glyn.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I can’t go and I won’t. I’ve been thinking about it all morning and the more I’ve thought, the more I realise I don’t want to live in Russia among a lot of heathens and foreigners.’

  ‘We’ll be the foreigners in Russia, Betty.’

  ‘There’s no point in arguing, Glyn. I’ll go back to the Boot and tell the woman my father hired she’s not needed. The boys can come with me and give Dad a hand to run the place. They’re too young to travel all that way. They can go in a year or two when you’ve had time to sort out a proper house for them.’

  ‘Betty …’ Glyn realised she was right. There was no point in arguing. She’d made up her mind to stay and wouldn’t be dissuaded. He only wished he felt regret instead of relief.

  ‘Guard’s about to blow the whistle, Glyn,’ Edward warned.

  Owen and Morgan ran up to the train, Alf followed.

  ‘Looks like you’ll have to do without your helpers, Betty, they appear to be joining us,’ Glyn said when the boys banged on the window of the carriage Richard, Anna, Peter, and Sarah were sitting in.

  Sarah pulled down the window.

  Morgan looked at Owen, who nodded. He’d sensed what Morgan intended to do.

  Morgan shouted above the noise of the steam, ‘We’re staying with Auntie Betty. Bye, Anna, Richard. See you when you get back from Russia.’

  ‘Yes, see you.’ Owen waved.

  Alf looked at the boys, then Anna, through the carriage window. He hesitated for a few seconds before stepping up into the carriage. The guard blew his whistle. Alf glanced at Glyn, who was still with Betty. He kept the door open.

  Glyn ran across the platform when the train started moving. He took Alf’s hand, jumped in, and slammed the door behind him.

  Train s omewhere between Merthyr and Southampton

  July 1870

  ‘I don’t blame Betty for wanting to stay in Merthyr.’ Glyn drew a last puff from his cigarette, stared at the glowing tip, then squashed it in the ashtray. He and Peter had lunched in the dining car with Sarah and Alf, but they’d lingered after the others had taken meals back to their carriage for Richard and Anna. Glyn had ordered coffee and brandy, and wanting to support his brother through his domestic crisis, Peter stayed.