Panic-stricken, the stranger found her voice and took a couple of steps forward. She was about forty, Josephine guessed, although her fear might have made her appear older than she was. ‘I don’t need a doctor, really I don’t,’ she insisted, and there was a pleading, pathetic note in her voice which was dreadful to hear. She tried to pull her long, mousy hair forward over her face, as if covering up her bruised and battered features would convince them that she was not really hurt. ‘Just let me sit here for a moment and I’ll be fine.’
Her face betrayed her words, but Mrs Snipe was quick to regain her composure. She led the woman back to her chair and handed her the soaked cloth for her eye. ‘It’s all right, my love, we’ll get you sorted just fine on our own. Stay here while I have a word with Miss Tey outside.’
Josephine found herself ushered back to the kitchen, still holding the increasingly absurd bottle of sherry. She put it down on Sheila’s freshly scrubbed table. The girl had now left for the evening, and the room was calm and peaceful.
‘I know you mean well but I can handle this,’ Mrs Snipe said firmly. ‘Getting a doctor in would only complicate things.’
‘But that woman’s obviously been badly beaten, and somebody needs to do something about it. Who is she, anyway?’
‘Beth Jacks, the gamekeeper’s wife.’
‘Then shouldn’t someone fetch her husband and let him know what’s happened?’ Josephine’s naivety was reflected back at her in the look on Mrs Snipe’s face. ‘You mean he did it to her?’ she asked, shocked. ‘Then you can’t possibly keep it quiet – it’s assault and she needs to be protected from him. I’m going to fetch Archie – he can tell whoever’s in charge down here.’
She turned to leave, but Mrs Snipe caught her arm. ‘Down here, no one’s in charge of what goes on behind closed doors between a man and his wife – just like anywhere else in the country. What do you think will happen if you get the police in? At best, someone will go round to have a word with Jacks and be palmed off with a load of lies and men’s talk, and the minute he’s gone, Jacks will knock Beth from here to next week, probably half kill her, and everything’ll go back to normal.’
‘What about William, then? He wouldn’t allow this to go on if he knew. Can’t he sort it out without the police?’
‘Oh, he’d certainly try. First whiff of any violence and Mr Motley would have Jacks off this estate faster than he could skin a rabbit. The trouble is, Jacks would force her to go with him, so she’d be destitute as well as beaten. Look, don’t think I don’t agree with you,’ she said, more softly this time. ‘I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to pick up a knife and sort him out myself for her, but it wouldn’t do no good. I’ve seen it before with another woman from the village, and it only gets worse if you fight back. At least here she’s got friends to keep an eye on her.’
‘But you’re not here most of the time.’ Josephine sat down at the kitchen table, still unsure of what to do for the best. ‘What happens then?’
‘She’s always got Morveth,’ Mrs Snipe said. Josephine recognised the name of the woman whom Archie and William had spoken so highly of, but she couldn’t help feeling that it would take more than a bit of white magic to sort this one out. ‘Beth went there first tonight, but Morveth was out for some reason, so she came here instead. There’s a few of us she can turn to. Please don’t say anything, Miss Tey – not even to the girls or Mr Archie. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.’
The words echoed those that Archie had repeated to her earlier when he was talking about Morveth and the funeral, and reluctantly she acknowledged defeat. She was an outsider here, although it was more the logic of Mrs Snipe’s reasoning that convinced her to keep quiet, at least for tonight.
‘This is
Her face betrayed her words, but Mrs Snipe was quick to regain her composure. She led the woman back to her chair and handed her the soaked cloth for her eye. ‘It’s all right, my love, we’ll get you sorted just fine on our own. Stay here while I have a word with Miss Tey outside.’
Josephine found herself ushered back to the kitchen, still holding the increasingly absurd bottle of sherry. She put it down on Sheila’s freshly scrubbed table. The girl had now left for the evening, and the room was calm and peaceful.
‘I know you mean well but I can handle this,’ Mrs Snipe said firmly. ‘Getting a doctor in would only complicate things.’
‘But that woman’s obviously been badly beaten, and somebody needs to do something about it. Who is she, anyway?’
‘Beth Jacks, the gamekeeper’s wife.’
‘Then shouldn’t someone fetch her husband and let him know what’s happened?’ Josephine’s naivety was reflected back at her in the look on Mrs Snipe’s face. ‘You mean he did it to her?’ she asked, shocked. ‘Then you can’t possibly keep it quiet – it’s assault and she needs to be protected from him. I’m going to fetch Archie – he can tell whoever’s in charge down here.’
She turned to leave, but Mrs Snipe caught her arm. ‘Down here, no one’s in charge of what goes on behind closed doors between a man and his wife – just like anywhere else in the country. What do you think will happen if you get the police in? At best, someone will go round to have a word with Jacks and be palmed off with a load of lies and men’s talk, and the minute he’s gone, Jacks will knock Beth from here to next week, probably half kill her, and everything’ll go back to normal.’
‘What about William, then? He wouldn’t allow this to go on if he knew. Can’t he sort it out without the police?’
‘Oh, he’d certainly try. First whiff of any violence and Mr Motley would have Jacks off this estate faster than he could skin a rabbit. The trouble is, Jacks would force her to go with him, so she’d be destitute as well as beaten. Look, don’t think I don’t agree with you,’ she said, more softly this time. ‘I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to pick up a knife and sort him out myself for her, but it wouldn’t do no good. I’ve seen it before with another woman from the village, and it only gets worse if you fight back. At least here she’s got friends to keep an eye on her.’
‘But you’re not here most of the time.’ Josephine sat down at the kitchen table, still unsure of what to do for the best. ‘What happens then?’
‘She’s always got Morveth,’ Mrs Snipe said. Josephine recognised the name of the woman whom Archie and William had spoken so highly of, but she couldn’t help feeling that it would take more than a bit of white magic to sort this one out. ‘Beth went there first tonight, but Morveth was out for some reason, so she came here instead. There’s a few of us she can turn to. Please don’t say anything, Miss Tey – not even to the girls or Mr Archie. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.’
The words echoed those that Archie had repeated to her earlier when he was talking about Morveth and the funeral, and reluctantly she acknowledged defeat. She was an outsider here, although it was more the logic of Mrs Snipe’s reasoning that convinced her to keep quiet, at least for tonight.
‘This is
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