Paupers Graveyard by Gemma Mawdsley Page B

asked.
    â€˜Early in the spring.’
    â€˜I’ll wait until then, and we’ll see what happens.’
    ****
    The following months were the hardest Elizabeth had ever known. What little food they had was soon used up and the larder was empty. Costs had gone up, and their credit had run out with every shopkeeper in the vicinity. She had to travel far and wide in search of one who had not, as yet, heard of Charles’ inability to pay his debts. Many tradesmen had called in person to the Hall, to simply be told that his lord and her ladyship were not available. A very drunken Charles, threatening to loose the dogs if they were not off his land immediately, met the truly unlucky ones. Warnings of returning with the bailiffs fell on deaf ears.
    Each day more tales of terror reached Elizabeth from the surrounding countryside. They could no longer afford to pay the staff. Thomas and Annie stayed on, only because they had nowhere else to go after spending a lifetime in service. Charles, to her disgust, had even taken to borrowing what little savings they had.
    As predicted, the winter was severe. They stayed inside and spent most days huddled around the fire. Elizabeth was almost distracted at the children’s constant complaints of hunger. She was well aware that other gentlefolk in the district were not as hard up as they were, and she cursed Charles for his careless ways. If only John had lived he would have done something to alleviate the suffering she saw each day from her window.
    When they did go outside, they walked only as far as the main gate. This was now kept locked and chained in order to deter any more creditors from calling, and also to keep out the growing number of beggars who came pleading for food. The children had been so frightened by grey spectres reaching skeletal arms out to them, that even these walks had to stop. She kept the curtains closed most of the time, in the vain hope of shutting out the world with all its misery and suffering.
    ****
    Besides the horror of possible starvation there was a more immediate threat to her family: Jack Carey. He now had free run of the house and could come and go as he pleased. Charles was always glad to see him, as he came bearing gifts, usually of whiskey or brandy, but sometimes he brought food as well. She was grateful for this, and tried not to think about what means he had used to obtain it.
    As Charles’ drinking worsened, Carey’s decreased. He now dressed in much finer clothes, and although nothing could hide the fact that he was a ruffian, his manner had changed. He imitated Charles’ speech and mannerisms, and no longer leered at her, but expected to be treated as an equal.
    From the very beginning he had advised Charles to dismiss his estate manager, Ger Ryan, and put him in sole charge instead. Ryan, he said, was allowing the people to poach rabbits. Elizabeth knew that this was true. He saw their suffering and turned a blind eye to the scurrying shapes of the poachers. Carey introduced other ideas too and, as always, Charles went along with whatever he said.
    Of course she had no idea how deeply her brother-in-law was in debt to the man. Only seven weeks remained before the estate rents fell due and she dreaded this time. It was plain to see the tenants had nothing, but that did not deter Charles in his expectations. His days were increasingly spent in an alcohol-induced stupor and he refused to acknowledge what was happening.
    He ate little, his stomach now unable to take food, thereby fooling himself into believing that things were not as bad as Elizabeth said. She was trying to reason with him one day when Carey appeared and interrupted the conversation.
    â€˜May I speak to you outside, Elizabeth?’
    His free use of her christian name astounded her, but she followed him into the hallway. ‘How dare you address me in such a familiar way, Carey!’ she snapped. ‘I am her ladyship to you, and don’t forget it