Remember Me - Lesley Pearse [15]
That evening, she was up by the door talking to Lucy Perkins, a girl from St Austell, when the men unlocked it to come in. For once she was in a strong position to get a better helping, but as she took her place, and the women behind her began to push and shove, she glanced backwards.
It was a shock to see the plaintive faces of those who were too sick and weak to get off their beds to collect their share. Some were holding out their bowls, their feeble cries for help drowned by the clamour, and their distress unnoticed by anyone but herself.
Mary hated injustice. Even as a small child she had despised bigger children who bullied younger and weaker ones. Knowing that healthy women capable of fighting their way forward were sentencing the sick ones to death by depriving them of food, she suddenly saw red.
Turning in the queue, she held her arms out wide, blocking the way to the soup pot. ‘Let the sick ones have their share first,’ she commanded.
There was a hush, surprise on every grimy face. ‘We should take care of the sick,’ she said in a loud, clear voice. ‘They might treat us like animals down here, but we are women, not savages.’ Seeing Bessie at the back of the queue, she shouted to her, ‘Get their bowls and bring them here, Bessie. When they are served everyone else can have theirs.’
Mary heard the rumble of dissent, and it frightened her. But she had no intention of backing down. She was aware that the guards were watching from the grille on the door, and she hoped that if the stronger women rushed her, they would step in.
‘Who d’you think you are? Fuckin’ royalty?’ Aggie Crew, one of the most ragged and dirty of the women, shouted out.
Mary had crossed swords with this woman on several previous occasions. In Mary’s opinion she was totally brutalized. She stole from others, she didn’t even attempt to wash her face and hands when the morning washing bucket was brought down. She belittled anyone with a shred of decency left. She had sneered at Mary for washing out the rags she used when she had her menses, and for her attempts to rally some of the other women to join her in asking for buckets of water and mops to clean the floor. Now Aggie’s thin face was alight with malice, and she was clearly spoiling for a fight.
‘I don’t think I’m anyone other than a woman who doesn’t want to behave like an animal,’ Mary said, looking hard at her. ‘It isn’t right to act like this. The food should be shared equally, and I’m going to see it is.’
Bessie squeezed through the crowd with the sick women’s bowls. ‘Fill them, Jane,’ Mary ordered the very young pregnant girl who was standing right by the soup pot, her hand on the ladle. Mary had talked to Jane a great deal, for as if it wasn’t enough to be transported for stealing a candlestick, the parson who had made the complaint to the constables had also raped her.
Jane dutifully began to ladle soup into the bowls, and Mary ordered those standing nearest to take them over to the sick ones. ‘You’ll get your share next,’ she said by way of an inducement.
For a while it seemed as if Mary had won the day. The sick got their rations, and the other women were queuing properly for theirs, but as Mary turned to look at the soup pot, to make sure there was enough to go round, she was suddenly hit over the head with a bowl. She fell forward, knocking another woman off her feet, and all at once Aggie Crew was screaming blue murder, trying to entice the other women into hitting Mary.
The door flew open and in came the guards, lashing out with their sticks. They hauled Mary to her feet and unceremoniously dragged her out.
She knew they must have watched the whole proceedings through the grille on the door, but she also knew better than to hope they’d be on her side. Back in Exeter Castle, Dick Sullion had explained to her that the whole business of running prisons was put out to private tender to save the government money. As he pointed out, it was a good business for those who had no scruples; they hired the most brutish men as gaolers,