in the latter months. They never emerged back into society until their body had returned to as close to their former shape as possible. They certainly did not run errands and crouch on the floor to wash shirts.
A thin sheen of sweat was now glistening over Hetty's face and chest; it started to trickle down her temples. A vein throbbed in her neck whilst the odd tear leaked out to drop into the murky water in front of her.
When Annabel had finished hanging the shirt by the fire, she noticed a dark stain growing on the back of Hetty's current skirt. She was still bleeding and it looked bad.
"Patsy," Annabel whispered, trying not to sound alarmed. "Can you just have a look at something for me?" She motioned towards Hetty. Patsy inspected the poor girl, her eyes wild with alarm.
"Hetty sit back," she ordered.
"No." Her voice was strained beyond recognition. "Have to finish."
"Hetty, please!" Patsy's voice was thick with desperation. At the sound of it Hetty looked up. Her grey eyes were bloodshot and her hair was now stuck to her pale face. She looked as though she wanted to protest but was overcome by another peel of agony. Letting out a long, strained scream, she bent over her writhing bump, rocking slightly as if this movement would somehow stem the hurt. Suppressed tears now raced down her cheeks. Her face was soon saturated with them.
"Make it stop Patsy. Please make it stop."
"I'll try. I'll get help."
"No!" Hetty seized Patsy's arm, her knuckles white. "I don't think there's time. Tom - Tom'll make it worse."
Patsy obviously saw truth in these words and sat back down, stroking the hair off of Hetty's face almost frantically.
"It's okay," Patsy crooned as Hetty gasped in the smoky air. "Anna, come to where I am, hold her head so I can have a look at `er."
Annabel did as instructed, taking a wet shirt from the water to press against Hetty's clammy forehead.
"We have to get her to a doctor," she announced.
"No, if we take her anywhere Tom'll kill us all."
"I'll go - I'll fetch the doctor."
"No, you can't. The closest doctor's in your town - it's too far away."
"We can't just leave her like this!"
"We have to try on our own. She was fine for the others and they were twins."
Despite her words, the fear in Patsy's face betrayed her.
"Get it out Patsy! It doesn't feel like the others. I want it out," Hetty cried, sounding terrified. Annabel quickly realised this wasn't how child birth was meant to go at all.
As Patsy lifted Hetty's skirt Hetty began to scream in renewed agony, wriggling on the ground. Annabel tried desperately to hold her as still as she could so Patsy could examine her.
"She's been in labour for hours. Damn it Hetty!" she cursed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
The screaming grew louder and more pained as Hetty's body grew heavier in Annabel's arms. Her strength and will were diminishing rapidly.
Lowering Hetty's head carefully to the floor, Annabel jumped up. Pouring some water from a jug on the table into a cup, she held it up to Hetty's cracked lips. Hetty drank in small sips, clenching her mouth around the rim of the cup to hold off another scream.
Just as Annabel lowered the empty cup, the heavy door swung open, banging back on its frame. The figure in the doorway had Annabel shrinking against the wall.
It was Tom, Hetty's husband and the younger of the two men who had attacked her. She prayed that seeing his wife in such agony he would help her but Annabel soon realised this was an absurd idea. When he spoke, his voice was full of menace. He swayed dangerously on his feet as he stood there, almost too drunk to move.
"Get up whore!" he bellowed.
Hetty jumped, crying out in pain. She bent forwards onto all fours with considerable effort, trying to rise to her feet but her legs and arms were too weak to lift her. Tom crouched down, his face only an inch from hers.
"GET UP!" he screamed, spit flying from his foul smelling mouth. Annabel saw tears running off of Hetty's nose in the same
A thin sheen of sweat was now glistening over Hetty's face and chest; it started to trickle down her temples. A vein throbbed in her neck whilst the odd tear leaked out to drop into the murky water in front of her.
When Annabel had finished hanging the shirt by the fire, she noticed a dark stain growing on the back of Hetty's current skirt. She was still bleeding and it looked bad.
"Patsy," Annabel whispered, trying not to sound alarmed. "Can you just have a look at something for me?" She motioned towards Hetty. Patsy inspected the poor girl, her eyes wild with alarm.
"Hetty sit back," she ordered.
"No." Her voice was strained beyond recognition. "Have to finish."
"Hetty, please!" Patsy's voice was thick with desperation. At the sound of it Hetty looked up. Her grey eyes were bloodshot and her hair was now stuck to her pale face. She looked as though she wanted to protest but was overcome by another peel of agony. Letting out a long, strained scream, she bent over her writhing bump, rocking slightly as if this movement would somehow stem the hurt. Suppressed tears now raced down her cheeks. Her face was soon saturated with them.
"Make it stop Patsy. Please make it stop."
"I'll try. I'll get help."
"No!" Hetty seized Patsy's arm, her knuckles white. "I don't think there's time. Tom - Tom'll make it worse."
Patsy obviously saw truth in these words and sat back down, stroking the hair off of Hetty's face almost frantically.
"It's okay," Patsy crooned as Hetty gasped in the smoky air. "Anna, come to where I am, hold her head so I can have a look at `er."
Annabel did as instructed, taking a wet shirt from the water to press against Hetty's clammy forehead.
"We have to get her to a doctor," she announced.
"No, if we take her anywhere Tom'll kill us all."
"I'll go - I'll fetch the doctor."
"No, you can't. The closest doctor's in your town - it's too far away."
"We can't just leave her like this!"
"We have to try on our own. She was fine for the others and they were twins."
Despite her words, the fear in Patsy's face betrayed her.
"Get it out Patsy! It doesn't feel like the others. I want it out," Hetty cried, sounding terrified. Annabel quickly realised this wasn't how child birth was meant to go at all.
As Patsy lifted Hetty's skirt Hetty began to scream in renewed agony, wriggling on the ground. Annabel tried desperately to hold her as still as she could so Patsy could examine her.
"She's been in labour for hours. Damn it Hetty!" she cursed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
The screaming grew louder and more pained as Hetty's body grew heavier in Annabel's arms. Her strength and will were diminishing rapidly.
Lowering Hetty's head carefully to the floor, Annabel jumped up. Pouring some water from a jug on the table into a cup, she held it up to Hetty's cracked lips. Hetty drank in small sips, clenching her mouth around the rim of the cup to hold off another scream.
Just as Annabel lowered the empty cup, the heavy door swung open, banging back on its frame. The figure in the doorway had Annabel shrinking against the wall.
It was Tom, Hetty's husband and the younger of the two men who had attacked her. She prayed that seeing his wife in such agony he would help her but Annabel soon realised this was an absurd idea. When he spoke, his voice was full of menace. He swayed dangerously on his feet as he stood there, almost too drunk to move.
"Get up whore!" he bellowed.
Hetty jumped, crying out in pain. She bent forwards onto all fours with considerable effort, trying to rise to her feet but her legs and arms were too weak to lift her. Tom crouched down, his face only an inch from hers.
"GET UP!" he screamed, spit flying from his foul smelling mouth. Annabel saw tears running off of Hetty's nose in the same
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