Trapped In She Town : A Romantic Novella (The Jute Mills Series) by Serena MacKay
Authors: Serena MacKay
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realised that she had left her case behind in her haste to
get away from the filthy old man. She could still feel his hands on her breasts
and smell his rancid odour.
Mary started to sob
for the first time since she left the house – she sobbed and sobbed. For her
lost virginity; for her lost sweetheart; for her lost family; for her lost home
and now for her lost possessions. Everything she owned was in that small
battered suitcase and now all she had were the clothes she stood in. The little
money she had left for food was gone too, wrapped in her thick stockings at the
bottom of her case.
Mary did not move
until the dawn started to appear. She got to her feet once again and headed
back towards the smog of Dundee. She had no choice now, she would have to go
and take her chances at the poorhouse. Or else, she and her baby would starve.
~~~
When she presented
herself at the poorhouse in Mains Loan, she was asked to take a seat and wait.
About an hour later the governor arrived and took Mary into an interview room.
They sat on hard wooden benches. Mary explained her circumstances and she was
told she would be placed in a probationary ward until a decision was made on
whether she would be admitted to the workhouse or not.
A severe-looking,
older woman then told her to come with her, and Mary followed behind, along a stark
corridor with bare walls and peeling, light blue paint. She was led into a
bathroom where she was told to strip then bathe. After drying herself she put
on a workhouse uniform. This consisted of a coarse shapeless woollen gown with
a smock over, a cap, worsted stockings and woven slippers.
Once dressed, she was
led back along the corridor and up two flights of stairs to a long room with
six beds running down the walls on either side. She was shown to a little
single bed about halfway down the room on the left hand side. This was now her
home she thought desolately. This little bed and the clothes she stood in was
all she had in the world.
Mary would rise at
six, along with all the inmates, usually after a disturbed night listening to
the wails and moans of the other residents. After a breakfast of bread and gruel,
the residents would be forced to leave the workhouse. If they didn’t have a job
to go to, then they would have to wander the streets until returning for dinner
at 12 noon. Dinner consisted of pickled pork or bacon with potatoes and
vegetables. A supper of bread, cheese and broth was served at six in the
evening with inmates being ushered to bed at eight.
Mary finds it hard to
believe that she has fallen so far. She cannot fathom why this has happened to
her. She moves around in a trance most of the time, as she tries to block out
the realities of this world she is living in. She picks at her food at
mealtimes and is so exhausted when turned into the streets each morning, that
she barely manages to walk to the local park and sink under a tree. She stays there
most of the day, if it’s not raining, watching mothers come with their children
to play.
About four weeks after
she arrived at the poorhouse, Mary shuffles out one Sunday afternoon, after the
midday dinner. It is a cold, misty and drizzly day and she starts to head down
Mains Loan, wondering where she can find to rest and keep dry for a couple of
hours. She hears her name being called and a familiar figure running down the
hill towards her. She puts her head down and tries to scurry away. It can’t be anyone
who knows me, she thinks.
“Mary! Mary! Wait
up!” the voice calls.
It takes her a minute
to recognise him - it’s John, her friend from the big house.
“Goodness Mary, let me
help you.” John is shocked at the sight of Mary. Her lifeless eyes look away
from him and she is hunched over trying to keep warm.
“Let’s go and grab a
cup of tea down the road in Stobswell” he offers.
Mary follows him
dumbly, and John buys her a mug of strong tea and a chunk of bread. Mary sips
at the tea but doesn’t touch the
get away from the filthy old man. She could still feel his hands on her breasts
and smell his rancid odour.
Mary started to sob
for the first time since she left the house – she sobbed and sobbed. For her
lost virginity; for her lost sweetheart; for her lost family; for her lost home
and now for her lost possessions. Everything she owned was in that small
battered suitcase and now all she had were the clothes she stood in. The little
money she had left for food was gone too, wrapped in her thick stockings at the
bottom of her case.
Mary did not move
until the dawn started to appear. She got to her feet once again and headed
back towards the smog of Dundee. She had no choice now, she would have to go
and take her chances at the poorhouse. Or else, she and her baby would starve.
~~~
When she presented
herself at the poorhouse in Mains Loan, she was asked to take a seat and wait.
About an hour later the governor arrived and took Mary into an interview room.
They sat on hard wooden benches. Mary explained her circumstances and she was
told she would be placed in a probationary ward until a decision was made on
whether she would be admitted to the workhouse or not.
A severe-looking,
older woman then told her to come with her, and Mary followed behind, along a stark
corridor with bare walls and peeling, light blue paint. She was led into a
bathroom where she was told to strip then bathe. After drying herself she put
on a workhouse uniform. This consisted of a coarse shapeless woollen gown with
a smock over, a cap, worsted stockings and woven slippers.
Once dressed, she was
led back along the corridor and up two flights of stairs to a long room with
six beds running down the walls on either side. She was shown to a little
single bed about halfway down the room on the left hand side. This was now her
home she thought desolately. This little bed and the clothes she stood in was
all she had in the world.
Mary would rise at
six, along with all the inmates, usually after a disturbed night listening to
the wails and moans of the other residents. After a breakfast of bread and gruel,
the residents would be forced to leave the workhouse. If they didn’t have a job
to go to, then they would have to wander the streets until returning for dinner
at 12 noon. Dinner consisted of pickled pork or bacon with potatoes and
vegetables. A supper of bread, cheese and broth was served at six in the
evening with inmates being ushered to bed at eight.
Mary finds it hard to
believe that she has fallen so far. She cannot fathom why this has happened to
her. She moves around in a trance most of the time, as she tries to block out
the realities of this world she is living in. She picks at her food at
mealtimes and is so exhausted when turned into the streets each morning, that
she barely manages to walk to the local park and sink under a tree. She stays there
most of the day, if it’s not raining, watching mothers come with their children
to play.
About four weeks after
she arrived at the poorhouse, Mary shuffles out one Sunday afternoon, after the
midday dinner. It is a cold, misty and drizzly day and she starts to head down
Mains Loan, wondering where she can find to rest and keep dry for a couple of
hours. She hears her name being called and a familiar figure running down the
hill towards her. She puts her head down and tries to scurry away. It can’t be anyone
who knows me, she thinks.
“Mary! Mary! Wait
up!” the voice calls.
It takes her a minute
to recognise him - it’s John, her friend from the big house.
“Goodness Mary, let me
help you.” John is shocked at the sight of Mary. Her lifeless eyes look away
from him and she is hunched over trying to keep warm.
“Let’s go and grab a
cup of tea down the road in Stobswell” he offers.
Mary follows him
dumbly, and John buys her a mug of strong tea and a chunk of bread. Mary sips
at the tea but doesn’t touch the
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