Daylight was already spilling in around the edges of the window blind, but prying eyes were thwarted. Anne knelt on the floor of the dusky bedroom. A cotton bag lay open in front of her. Blood buzzed in her ears. She could have prepared her bag during the night, when she lay awake, twisting, turning, sweating. She had not. Even this morning, she had taken her time getting washed and dressed, doing her chores, and had pushed this forward. And now, as she knelt by her bedside and knew what had to be done, she wavered. Perhaps she should put it off. Perhaps things weren’t so bad. This was madness. She’d have to come up with a better plan.
She pinched the back of her hand. How dared she back out now? Courage! Anne sat up and lifted her mattress as quietly as she could. There was a hole in the bottom. She put her hand through, felt around for a few seconds, then withdrew an old sock with a bulky content – the money she had secretly earned and saved up for this purpose. She had not expected to call on it so soon.
“Anne!”
She jolted and nearly dropped the sock.
“Aye?” Could her father hear the quiver in her voice. She certainly could. His presence hadn’t been part of the plan. He should have been out at sea by this time, but the north-easternly wind had prevented it. She could hear her father pacing in the other room.
“Hurry up, child! You don’t want to miss the train!”
She put her hand over her mouth. Her other hand pushed the sock into the corner of her bag, where she hoped it would not make noise. Poor father. Her savings included the pennies he had given her yesterday to buy herself something nice in Scarborough. That was where he believed she was going, on the long-anticipated outing of the Methodist girls society. She had waited for it, despite the increasing sense of urgency. If she was wrong, she could return without her father ever finding out. If not… how cruel to use his own kindness to break his heart.
“Anne!”
She lowered her hand. “Aye, coming!” No time to feel guilty. She could not fold now. She moved to the chest at the foot end of her bed and opened it.
“What are ye doin’ in there?”
“I can’t find me Bible!” She took out a clean set of drawers, clean stockings and a clean shift.
“What do ye mean ye can’t find –“
“Found it!” She slammed the chest shut and stuffed the underclothes into her bag. She dared not bring more for fear that her bag would look too bulky. At least she was wearing the new clothes Mrs. Blacke had given her. Her heart broke thinking -, but no! She couldn’t allow it.
She closed her bag and flung it over her shoulder as she scrambled to her feet. She dared not look round the room a last time. She hurried out. Her father handed her her hat as she flew by.
“Now hurry! And have fun!”
“Aye!” she whispered and she darted out of the suffocating cottage. She had not dared to look at him one last time either. She ran faster. Her vision blurred.
Fifteen minutes later, she limped onto the platform at Whitby West Cliff railway station. A group of women and girls, all dressed in their Sunday best, had gathered at the far end of the platform by the third class compartments of a train that looked ready to depart. An elderly woman hurried towards her.
“Anne! Thank goodness, child, we were getting worried. Oh, but… what happened to your leg?”
“It’s me own stupid fault, Mrs. Payne. I was late and ran and I twisted my ankle. I don’t think I can come.”
“Oh dear. Can you walk if two girls support you?”
“Not too long, Mrs. Payne. I think I’ll make it worse. And I’d hate to be a burden and spoil the other girls’ fun.”
“But I’d hate to leave you behind, as well. Poor dear, I know how much you’ve looked forward to it.” She sighed. “Very well. I’ll stay here with you and help you home.”
Anne panicked. “No!” Mrs. Payne looked startled. Anne’s face felt hot. “Please…” she corrected herself. “I don’t want to rob you of your outing. My sister lives close by. I’m sure I can make it to hers on my own. It’s not worth the trouble.”
Mrs. Payne hesitated. There was a whistle and the women and girls started the board.
“Please, Mrs. Payne. Don’t make me feel worse!” Anne begged.
“Straight to your sister then, alright?”
As soon as the train was out of view, Anne turned on her heel and ran. She had twenty minutes and still needed to buy a ticket. Most of the way to Whitby Town railway station was a blur. At some point, running turned to fast-paced walking, but she only really slowed down once she got close the station. Whitby Town station lay just across from Dock End, where some of the fishing boats were docked. Sheltering behind a parked carriage, Anne peered along the waterside. When she was certain the coast was clear, she took a deep breath and sprinted across the road.
“One ticket to Castleton, please,” she told the man at the ticket booth.
“Single or return?”
She hesitated, dizzy.
“Miss?”
“Single.”
She pinched the back of her hand. How dared she back out now? Courage! Anne sat up and lifted her mattress as quietly as she could. There was a hole in the bottom. She put her hand through, felt around for a few seconds, then withdrew an old sock with a bulky content – the money she had secretly earned and saved up for this purpose. She had not expected to call on it so soon.
“Anne!”
She jolted and nearly dropped the sock.
“Aye?” Could her father hear the quiver in her voice. She certainly could. His presence hadn’t been part of the plan. He should have been out at sea by this time, but the north-easternly wind had prevented it. She could hear her father pacing in the other room.
“Hurry up, child! You don’t want to miss the train!”
She put her hand over her mouth. Her other hand pushed the sock into the corner of her bag, where she hoped it would not make noise. Poor father. Her savings included the pennies he had given her yesterday to buy herself something nice in Scarborough. That was where he believed she was going, on the long-anticipated outing of the Methodist girls society. She had waited for it, despite the increasing sense of urgency. If she was wrong, she could return without her father ever finding out. If not… how cruel to use his own kindness to break his heart.
“Anne!”
She lowered her hand. “Aye, coming!” No time to feel guilty. She could not fold now. She moved to the chest at the foot end of her bed and opened it.
“What are ye doin’ in there?”
“I can’t find me Bible!” She took out a clean set of drawers, clean stockings and a clean shift.
“What do ye mean ye can’t find –“
“Found it!” She slammed the chest shut and stuffed the underclothes into her bag. She dared not bring more for fear that her bag would look too bulky. At least she was wearing the new clothes Mrs. Blacke had given her. Her heart broke thinking -, but no! She couldn’t allow it.
She closed her bag and flung it over her shoulder as she scrambled to her feet. She dared not look round the room a last time. She hurried out. Her father handed her her hat as she flew by.
“Now hurry! And have fun!”
“Aye!” she whispered and she darted out of the suffocating cottage. She had not dared to look at him one last time either. She ran faster. Her vision blurred.
Fifteen minutes later, she limped onto the platform at Whitby West Cliff railway station. A group of women and girls, all dressed in their Sunday best, had gathered at the far end of the platform by the third class compartments of a train that looked ready to depart. An elderly woman hurried towards her.
“Anne! Thank goodness, child, we were getting worried. Oh, but… what happened to your leg?”
“It’s me own stupid fault, Mrs. Payne. I was late and ran and I twisted my ankle. I don’t think I can come.”
“Oh dear. Can you walk if two girls support you?”
“Not too long, Mrs. Payne. I think I’ll make it worse. And I’d hate to be a burden and spoil the other girls’ fun.”
“But I’d hate to leave you behind, as well. Poor dear, I know how much you’ve looked forward to it.” She sighed. “Very well. I’ll stay here with you and help you home.”
Anne panicked. “No!” Mrs. Payne looked startled. Anne’s face felt hot. “Please…” she corrected herself. “I don’t want to rob you of your outing. My sister lives close by. I’m sure I can make it to hers on my own. It’s not worth the trouble.”
Mrs. Payne hesitated. There was a whistle and the women and girls started the board.
“Please, Mrs. Payne. Don’t make me feel worse!” Anne begged.
“Straight to your sister then, alright?”
As soon as the train was out of view, Anne turned on her heel and ran. She had twenty minutes and still needed to buy a ticket. Most of the way to Whitby Town railway station was a blur. At some point, running turned to fast-paced walking, but she only really slowed down once she got close the station. Whitby Town station lay just across from Dock End, where some of the fishing boats were docked. Sheltering behind a parked carriage, Anne peered along the waterside. When she was certain the coast was clear, she took a deep breath and sprinted across the road.
“One ticket to Castleton, please,” she told the man at the ticket booth.
“Single or return?”
She hesitated, dizzy.
“Miss?”
“Single.”
