Trapped in 1895
Chapter 15

Mrs. Cole still refused to go to church, no matter how hard Cheryl tried.

“You’ve got to go sooner or later, Mrs. Cole. You love that church. Can’t you give the Vicar a second chance?”

“A second chance to insult me. Not likely.”

“I don’t think he meant to.”

“I would appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my personnel business.”

Cheryl backed off. She knew the warning signs and left to go to church. As usual, Mary was waiting for her.

“Aunty Mabel, still not coming.”

“I think hell will freeze over or the Vicar moves. Oh look, I know that woman. Hey, Abby,” shouted Cheryl. Abby turned round, paused, then hurried into the church.

“Strange, she is such a friendly person.”

They went into the church and Mary said, “Look, she’s over there.”

Abby was seated in the first row, head bowed in silent prayer. Cheryl was about to get up and join her but Mary held her arm.

“Don’t. Sometimes people just want to be alone here to talk to God.”

Cheryl sat back down.

Abby’s job was to carry food down to the patrons in the bar. She was very well suited to the job. She grew up in the country and was a sturdy, well-built young woman. Abby had, in abundance, all those qualities the male patrons liked and she never put up with any nonsense. More than once, she dumped the contents of a plate over an overly obnoxious patron. She had a deep and hearty laugh that often echoed throughout the bar but Abby was not happy.

Monday afternoons are mostly quiet, the young wives having gone back to their domestic duties, Rory would close the kitchen and release the staff. The public bar area would be quiet and Cheryl would go down for a few ales and talk to the bar staff. Today Abby sat alone in the corner so she joined her. She was shocked to see tears on her cheeks. She moved closer and took her hands.

“Abby, dear. What is it? Why are you crying.”

Abby turned her big brown, innocent eyes to Cheryl.

“I’m pregnant.”

It was that simple remark that she realised how precarious her own situation was. She had no access to contraception, which, thankfully; she hadn’t needed yet.

“Isn’t that something to be happy about?” she said lamely.

“Mrs. Hill will dismiss me. No one will take me and I will end up in the streets.”

“Maybe if I talk to Mrs. Hill?”

“No.no. please don’t, she must never know. I’m going to get rid of it.”

“Can’t you go home? Won’t your mother look after you?”

“Father would beat me viciously. I can’t go home. I’ve found a woman who has sold me a potion. I’m going to take it tonight. Now leave me alone.”

She got up and ran out of the inn.

As Abby’s only job was to deliver food to the public bar, she didn’t start till just before lunch and when she didn’t turn up, Cheryl began to worry. At noon, Mrs. Hill appeared before Cheryl.

“Cheryl, Abby hasn’t turned up today, so I need you to deliver the food to the bar.”

Cheryl looked at her rapidly filling dining room.

“I don’t think I can manage both jobs, Mrs Hill.”

“Well, here are two incentives. Abby’s paid for the day and you’re fired if you don’t.”

“Yes, Mrs Hill.”

Over the next two hours, Cheryl ran up and down stairs carrying plates. Life in the diner was quite quiet, but whenever she entered the public bar she was subjected to rude comments, unwanted touching and a suggestion she should come home for the night.

She became aware of a young man quietly but intensely staring at her. By six in the evening, as the demand eased, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“What’s your problem?” she demanded.

“Where Abby. I’m waiting for Abby.”

Cheryl took this opportunity to find Abby.

“Do you know where she lives?”

“Yes.”

“Wait here,” she said and ran upstairs and confronted Rory.

“I’m only supposed to be working till eight, but I’ve been staying till ten. Tonight I’m leaving at six. Fire me if you want.”

Rory said nothing, and she left, running downstairs.

“Let’s go,” she said to the young man then hailed a cab.

They pulled into a shabby tenement building with snow covered rubbish everywhere. They climbed to the floor where Abby’s rooms were to find an old woman outside, knocking on the door.

“What’s wrong,” asked Cheryl.

“It’s the young woman inside, miss. I can hear her moaning.”

“Abby, Abby. Can you open the door?”

No answer except a low groan.

“Break the door down, Paul.”

“No need,” said the old woman. “locks don’t work in this building.”

Cheryl opened the door to find Abby lying on the floor, in a bloodstained night dress. Cheryl turned to Paul.

“Take a cab to nine Salisbury Road and tell Mrs Cole we need help.”

Cheryl, Mrs. Cole and the old woman got a delirious Abby into bed when the professor appeared.

“The professor has little medical training, so he has sent for a doctor,” said Mrs. Cole.

They stabilised Abby till Dr. Schmidt arrived.

“She has not lost a lot of blood, but that poison is still in her veins.”

“Has she lost the baby?” asked Cheryl.

“Oh my god,” said Paul, “was she pregnant?”

“Didn’t you know?” asked Mrs Cole.

“No, she never told me. I wouldn’t have let her do this if I had known,” said Paul.

The doctor stood up.

“I’m afraid so. She will be alright but someone needs to stay with her.”

“I will,” said Paul and Cheryl simultaneously.

“It had better be myself. She needs a woman and you have jobs to go to,” said Mrs. Cole.

Cheryl woke up to one of those bad days. Mrs. Cole was in a foul mood and made her no breakfast. It rained, and she was soaked when she got to work. Rory found a rat dropping and yelled incoherently at her for ten minutes. Cheryl honestly thought she was going to burst into tears.

Then Mrs Hill called in Cheryl.

“Yesterday, I went to find you then discovered you stormed out of the kitchen, before you had finished your duties. What happened?”

Cheryl explained Abby’s problem.

“Well, she’s right. I would have dismissed her the moment she showed up. I can’t have pregnant staff running around but, since she’s no longer pregnant, I won’t dismiss her. The patrons like her too much.”

“I’ll do her work for her.”

“Nonsense. I have people I can call on. Just make sure she has a complete recovery. Now get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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