Lonely Girl

‘Don’t tell me what to do, child – not if you know what’s good for you.’

By now concerned herself that the horse was beginning to panic and might well bolt, Molly drew in the reins and eventually calmed the nervous animal.

Her daughter, however, was shown no such kindness.

‘Too damned right you’ll get up earlier tomorrow,’ Molly continued, ‘because I’ll make sure of it. I’ll have you out of that bed as soon as the cock crows, you see if I don’t!’ Her dark eyes flashed in anger. ‘What’s more, you can go to bed an hour earlier tonight, and no arguing.’

Hanging on to the wooden rail at her side, Rosie was made to endure a harrowing chase down the lanes. Once she dared to glance up at her mother. Molly’s dark eyes were angry, and her thick dark hair hung in deep waves across her shoulders, and Rosie couldn’t help but wonder how her mother could be so wicked when she looked so beautiful.

Throughout the remainder of the short journey not another word passed between them.

On arriving at school, with the cart and sweating horse safely secured, Molly rushed her daughter across the playground to the school doors. All the other children must have gone in already, though there was a young woman standing as if waiting on the other side of the road.

‘You’d better be on your best behaviour, my girl,’ Molly warned. ‘Make sure there are no bad reports from your teacher when I come to pick you up, or you’ll have me to answer to, and no mistake. All right?’

Rosie nodded, but her mother’s warning and the prospect of another nerve-racking journey had made her afraid. ‘Please … I don’t want to go to school.’ The tears began to fall. ‘I want to go home.’

‘Don’t be such a softy! If you let the other children see you crying, they’ll just laugh at you. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that, would you?’

Rosie shook her head. ‘No.’

‘Then you’d best do as you’re told.’

Without further ado, Molly grabbed Rosie by the arm and marched her into the entrance hall. ‘I mean what I say,’ she hissed. ‘Behave yourself.’

She then hurried Rosie into the main hall and handed her over to the headmistress. After saying her goodbyes she hurriedly departed, leaving behind a strong hint of the exotic scent she used, while the sharp tapping sound of her dainty high heels receded into the distance.

That afternoon, when Molly came to collect Rosie after school, the headteacher called her into the office while another teacher took Rosie to wait in the library.

‘I’ve been rather concerned about Rosie.’ The headmistress was most formal. ‘She’s hardly spoken a word all day, and she’s made no effort to play with the other children. In fact, I found her hiding in the playground after the other children were brought inside. She was crying, but when I questioned her, she refused to confide in me. It is obvious that something or someone has upset her, but she would not be persuaded to tell me.’

Molly was angry. ‘I’m not surprised. It sounds to me like you’ve blown this out of all proportion. Of course I understand you might want to know why she was crying, but what you really should know is that my daughter has a bit of a temper. Moreover, she does not take kindly to being questioned by strangers. I’m fully aware that she can be a little madam when she puts her mind to it. But if you don’t mind me saying, it is not your place to sort her out. My daughter is my business, and I shall talk to her about this, you may depend on it.’

The headmistress remained adamant. ‘I thought the two of us might discuss the situation quietly so we might get to the bottom of it. Indeed, that’s why I asked our Miss Harrison to take charge of Rosie for a few minutes.’

‘Really?’ Molly had taken an immediate dislike to this figure of authority. ‘Look, we’ve had our little talk, and now you can safely leave the matter of my daughter’s behaviour in my hands. I am used to dealing with Rosie’s tantrums.’ She stood up to leave, though she was not done yet. ‘I sincerely hope for your sake that my daughter has not been too upset by all this ridiculous fuss, and if I do find that to be the case, I shall have no choice but to refer you to a higher authority.’

‘I’m sure that will not be necessary.’ The headmistress was taken aback. ‘But if you really think me to be inadequate, then of course you must do what you will.’

Having taken stock of Rosie’s angry mother, however, the headmistress had her suspicions. ‘Meantime, Mrs Tanner, as we have no idea what might have upset Rosie, I have a suggestion. It’s just a thought, but I was wondering …’ in the wake of Molly Tanner’s hostility, she took a deep breath, ‘… is it at all possible that something, or someone, at home might have upset her before she came to school this morning?’

‘What the devil are you implying?’ Incensed by the teacher’s probing questions, Molly instantly dismissed them with a sharp rebuke. ‘I resent that implication, and I think you and your staff should be a little more sympathetic. My daughter is a very nervous child and, as I have explained, she can be prone to tears and tantrums. And might I remind you that this is her first day at school. Did it not occur to you that she may have been overwhelmed by everything and everyone?’

When the headmistress made an effort to reply, Molly cut her off viciously. ‘If you ask me, the reason my daughter is so upset must be something to do with you and your staff. In fact, I am beginning to wonder if you’re capable of doing your job responsibly.’

Surprised by Molly Tanner’s verbal attack, the headmistress asked an older, responsible child to return Rosie to her mother, who then marched Rosie out of the school, and onto the cart. Again, Rosie thought she glimpsed a young woman standing a distance away, but by the time Rosie was seated, there was not a sign of anyone about.

On the way home, Molly complained incessantly. ‘You cause me nothing but aggravation. I should never have had you in the first place. I never wanted kids, but it didn’t matter what I wanted – oh, no! Because your father wanted to play daddy! But who is it that has to take care of you, eh? Me! That’s who. From the day you were born, you’ve been like a real thorn in my side!’

She gave Rosie a stark warning. ‘If I get called in again by your teacher, I’ll take the cane to you myself, and I promise you I will not be lenient with it.’

When suddenly the horse stumbled into a shallow pothole, she angrily flicked the whip over his back, causing him to throw his head up and lose his footing momentarily.

When she prepared to raise the whip again, Rosie cried out, ‘Please, Mummy, don’t hurt him.’

‘What have I told you, girl?’ Molly glared at Rosie. ‘Who are you to tell me what to do and what not to do?’ She viciously flicked the whip in the air again. ‘Think yourself fortunate … after what you did at school, you’re lucky I haven’t taken the whip to you!’

All the way home, the volley of abuse continued: ‘I have never been so humiliated. I warn you, my girl, you’d best tell me what lies you’ve been spreading.’

Rosie assured her mother that she had not said anything to anyone, but as always her words fell on deaf ears.

When they arrived back at the farmhouse, Rosie was snatched off the cart and given a sound thrashing, but even as the frightened girl was sobbing, Molly Tanner showed no remorse.

At eight years of age, Rosie’s cousin Harry was a well-built and handsome boy. The son of her uncle Patrick, Harry loved nothing better than doing odd jobs at Tanner’s Farm after school.

Now, on hearing the commotion, he went at the run across the yard, yelling, ‘Uncle John!’

He found John in the far barn, chopping firewood.

‘You’d best come quick.’ Harry was in a panic. ‘It sounds like there’s trouble over by the house.’

Swinging the heavy axe into the log of wood, Rosie’s father wiped the sweat from his face, and threw off his thick gloves. ‘What d’you mean, boy? What kind o’ trouble?’

‘I’m not sure, but there was a lot of shouting and yelling. I think I heard Rosie cry out, so I thought I’d best find you, and quick.’

‘You did right, Harry.’ John hurried towards the house with the boy following close behind.

Turning the corner, and with the house now in his view, John was shocked at what he saw. It was painfully obvious that his wife was in one of her vicious moods, with Rosie at her mercy.

‘Molly!’ Surging forward, he screamed out, ‘Leave the child alone!’

He quickly realised that Rosie had her arms folded across her face so as to protect herself, but she was no match for the woman who was viciously thrashing her with the belt from her coat.

John threw himself between his wife and the child. ‘For God’s sake, woman! What the hell is wrong with you?’

Taking her by the arms, he thrust Molly away and grabbed Rosie to him. Then, giving her into Harry’s safekeeping, he shot forward to pin his wife against the cart. ‘What kind of bully are you, eh? Just look at her – whatever she might have done, she did not deserve a beating like that. What kind of a mother are you, for pity’s sake?’

Without a backward glance, and filling the air with obscenities, Molly fled into the house and slammed the door behind her.

‘Ssh … it’s all right, sweetheart, you’re safe now.’ John went to collect Rosie from his nephew, who was still visibly shaken by what he had witnessed.

‘Don’t worry, son,’ John assured him, ‘Rosie will be all right. Just leave the stables for now – I’ll finish them later – but please see to the horse. He looks badly shaken.’

The horse was foaming at the mouth and anxiously treading the ground with his front hoofs, as though at any minute he might take flight.

John stroked a tender hand over the horse’s neck. ‘Easy, boy,’ he quietly reassured him, ‘you’re in safe hands now.’

Mindful of Rosie, and eager to get her inside, he said to Harry, ‘I’ll check him thoroughly the minute I can, but could you gently unshackle him and make him comfortable in the stable? Make sure he’s got water and hay in the rack.’