The Edge

The time between Mr Bruce's leaving for London and his return passed rapidly. I had the daily duties of caring for my son and organising some of the household matters, I saw my mother in law daily and I enjoyed taking little James outside to see the falling leaves and the glorious autumn colours.

I also had the happy preparations for the coming baby to make. My physician said that I was nearing my three month period so had decided the due date to be sometime in the early April of the new year. I experienced some little sickness but otherwise this pregnancy was far easier than my first, for with James I had been sick as a dog and grown quite plump early on. This difference made me convinced that I was now expecting a girl, although Dr Crowther simply smiled and said that a difference meant nothing to sex and that I must not depend on mothers intuition.

Whatever the difference, I was glad of my pregnancy's unobtrusiveness, for when Mr Bruce arrived to begin work it meant that I could attend to all he did and said with much greater attention.

He began to sketch the various rooms of the house the day after he arrived, beginning with the ground floor. He drew wonderfully, and precisely. He and my husband got on well together, so he was treated with the honour of a welcome guest as opposed to someone merely doing some work for us. As for myself, I enjoyed his company. He was clever and well read, yet he liked to listen as well. He was quiet over his work and yet he was also a more humorous man than I had first supposed, making jokes to me as we worked. He also praised my designs for wall papers and my suggestions for furnishings, taking them in with a genuine consideration which was gratifying for me. He also made himself agreeable to me in another way, that of amusing my son.

Little James seemed to adore him, he liked to sit upon his knee and babble to him in his childish way, to show him his toys and to play games of hide and seek. Stephen Bruce seemed to mind this not at all, he was happy to play these little games, to throw my son up into the air and catch him or chase him about the nursery pretending to be a wolf, a lion, a giant. Seeing this, I wondered that my husband was not jealous. He adored his son, that much was clear, but because of the amount of work he had to do, he could rarely spare James the time to play or even pay him much attention. When I saw another man taking the role that I wished my own husband could take with our child, I felt a pang of upset.

Around three weeks after Stephen Bruce had taken up residence with us, I found myself feeling unwell. One evening I was preparing for dinner when I suddenly felt faint and giddy. Not long after I became quite sick with vomiting and so spent the evening in my room with Anna looking after me. My husband wanted to send for the Doctor but I insisted on waiting until morning. The weather was truly cold now and it was raining so heavily I didn't like to bring the doctor out in it.

The next morning I felt much better and was able to take some breakfast. Assuming that it had been some sort of gripe only, my husband went to the mine as usual and I went back to my work on painting the new wall papers for the dolls house. Stephen Bruce was already at work, he had begun making the furniture for the drawing room and was currently re carving the new fireplace which would be put into the walls. I had only just seated myself at my chair when I felt a great wave of faintness overcome me. I tried to stand but fell instead. Dimly I heard him calling for help, a doctor, for Anna.

Anna, Mrs Levin and the butler arrived moments later, with one of the footmen. The footman, aided by the other men, carried me to my bed, then the footman ran to get the doctor sent for, with the butler dispatching a messenger to my husband. Anna and Mrs Levin helped me to take off my outer garments as I felt desperately hot. The faintness became overwhelming and just as I felt like I would drown in it, I heard Anna give a cry and opening my eyes I looked down to see my petticoat growing red with the stain spreading wider and wider. A wave of agonising pain gripped me and I arched my back with the force of it, unable to stop myself crying out. I could hear someone wailing and against the roaring in my ears the sound became louder until I realise that it was me making that terrible noise.

By the time Dr Crowther arrived fifteen minutes later, I had miscarried in my bed. My husband arrived ten minutes after the doctor to be informed that I had lost a lot of blood but that the doctor thought I should be well again in a few weeks or so. I would certainly be able to have more children. When asked for an explanation of why I had suddenly miscarried, the doctor said that he could find no medical explanation what so ever, that when he had last seen me I was as healthy as a mother could wish to be.

Meanwhile I was bathed, the bed clothes were changed and I was dressed in a clean night dress and put between the covers, given a sleeping draft and allowed to rest for a day and a night, my husband sleeping in one of the other empty bed chambers.

At around three in the morning, I awoke. Anna was in a chair by my bed, her head drooping in sleep. I felt pain in my lower body and a sense of utter wretchedness. I knew that my baby was dead. I understood that there had been no obvious cause and that I would soon be well and able to have more children but at that moment, all I wanted was the child I already had.

I slipped from my bed. Anna didn't wake. I walked unsteadily to my door and into the corridor. It was empty and quiet, there was no one in the house stirring. I made my way to my sons room, gripping the wall as I went for the lack of food, loss of blood and the lingering effects of the drug had made me still unable to walk or think straight.

Little James was soundly asleep in his crib, one hand curled up over his head, the other clutching the paw of his teddy bear. He breathed softly in and out, his chestnut curls like silken rings on his pillow. He was so peaceful and beautiful, I just stood and watched him for a while. It took a moment to realise that the tears were streaming down my cheeks.

A movement behind me made me turn slowly. Stephen Bruce, dressed in shirt and trousers, was in the door way. His hair was ruffled from sleep, he had obviously dressed quickly because his shirt was unbuttoned, his feet bare. He went up to me, put his arms about my shoulder and took me after from my son, shutting the door behind me. Then he pointed silently to the skirt of my night dress. It was bloodied and spotted with red. The wretchedness overwhelmed me and I sank to the floor, silently sobbing with utter total grief. Stephen Bruce crouched down beside me and when he tried to lift me up, I clutched at him, my arms around his neck, holding him tightly as I buried my face against him and cried. After what seemed eternity my tears subsided and I became conscious that he had pulled me closer, cradled me against him and that his arms were stroking my back, soothing me.

I pulled away slightly. He loosened his grip and then he helped me to my feet. He seemed to know how unsteady I was for he pulled my up into his arms and carried me back to my room. Anna came out into the corridor as we approached my door. He eyes widened and I heard Stephen telling her that he had found me in the corridor, sleep walking, that I needed hot water for a bath and clean night clothes. Anna lead the way to my dressing room and I was carried there. Setting me onto a chair, he said goodnight, offered to call Mrs Levin for Anna and then departed to his own bed.

Anna bathed me, helped me into a clean night dress and then back into my bed. She had set some thick towels under me so that I should not bleed through and stain the mattress. She made me some mulled wine and helped me to drink it. I soon fell back into a wretched and exhausted sleep.

The next day the doctor visited again. He said that I would be well enough to get up in a few days time but that for the time being he wanted me to rest in my room. He gave me some more of the sleeping draft and told me to take it each night, it was critical that I had lots of sleep. And food, he gave Mrs Levin instructions to make hearty broths and to include much red meat in my meals as he was concerned about my becoming anaemic after losing so much blood.

My husband visited me for a while, was tender, was sweet but then went back to his work. It was probably a relief. He didn't seem to view the loss of this child as a real loss. Mrs Levin, who had been present at this time, told me afterwards that his mother had suffered several such losses when Michael was a child and so it was likely to be viewed by him as normal. To him, I would be up and well in a few days as the doctor said and then we could begin again. She and Anna sat with me constantly. I had James brought to me several times and he helped lift my spirits for a while. I ate what I was given.

At supper time, Anna brought me my tray and then whispered- Anna seemed to always whisper when she wanted to relate something private even when we were alone and could not possibly be over heard- that Mr Bruce had asked her not to say a word of my midnight walk and that she had agreed, as it had been totally innocent. Did I think that this was right? When I told her I did, she smiled and told me that he had asked after me several times during the day and that the day before he had sat outside my room all the time until the doctor left. She thought him a very handsome and kindly man and he had been so good as to give her a sixpence that morning for her assistance the night before.

In an effort to lift my head from maudlin matters I considered the possibility of Anna's being in love with Mr Bruce. She was probably too young for him but it was not impossible that he should think well of her. She was a pretty young woman, hard working and polite. A man could do worse.

The next day I was declared ready to get up by the doctor. My bleeding had stopped and I was stronger, enough to walk about and to sit up for a few hours at a time without feeling unwell. I decided to visit my mother in law as I felt that with me bedridden she had probably been neglected by most of the house.

When I made my way to her sitting room she was in her day bed, looking out at the wet countryside. Her nurse poured tea for us and before she could settle back into her chair Lady Rhiannon said “Would you go and cut some more sandwiches Nurse? I have a desire for some sardines if we have them.”

It was so rare for her mistress to request extra food that the nurse positively beamed and went out directly. The moment she had gone, Lady Rhiannon put down her tea cup and turned to me with a look of animated sorrow on her face, such as I have never seen from her. She reached for me and took both my hands in hers.

“Oh my poor poor dear child. My dear, I wish I could take this burden from you but I can't. My Poor daughter. If only I could at least promise that you will never again suffer this but I cannot do that either. Ah, cruel nature! It is the fate of woman to love a child whether it breathes the air or not.”

I was utterly taken aback. I had no idea that she had even been told but one look at her face and I knew that she truly meant to help me. She was so sick now that I had thought she took nothing in but clearly this had touched a chord with her. She gripped my hands a little harder with her dry bony fingers, the skin pulled tight and paper thin across them and whispered to me.

“I lost four, you know. The only two that lived were dear Michael and my little Victoria. After Michael I lost three children before they had grown to a five month inside me. Then came Victoria and I thought I had broken the pattern. But then came another girl, born dead. And after that I found I could not have children any more. So now Victoria lives miles away with her husband and Michael has become a shadow to me, just like his father.”

These words shook me to the sore for they revealed her sadness not just at the loss of her babies but of the loss of her son and daughter. Victoria had married young and moved with her husband to his home in Norfolk. Michael rarely visited and her husband even more rarely. Only I still came near. I felt my eyes well up and she reached and patted the tears on my cheeks.

“No child. No tears for me now. I am an old ruin and soon I will be free of this body and of all these earthly woes. Dry your eyes, the nurse will soon be back and we must both be ready to eat what she brings. You need your strength and I need my rest. Just remember what I say now. If you birth a child, it is only yours for a few years before it is gone. If you become with child then it is possible that it will never live to breathe the air. It is better to accept this early for then it will not hurt you as much. Harden your heart a little, learn from me and perhaps your sorrow will abate.”

So saying she dropped my hand and picked up her tea cup, just as the nurse re entered with some sardines and a pile of bread which she toasted in front of the fire. I managed to eat three slices and both the nurse and my mother in law looked at me approvingly. I wasn't truly hungry but somehow the warm room, the sudden unexpected kindness of Rhiannon and the feeling that I was not quite as alone as I had thought had helped to lift my mood, if only for a short time.

That evening I felt able to go down to dinner and although I felt more tired than normal, it was still better than yet another lone supper in my room. My father in law was quiet as usual, my husband talked to both Stephen Bruce and myself, paying me little compliments and Mr Bruce acted as if nothing had happened. It made it easier for us all if we pretended that the last week was simply a bad dream.

My husband took me aside after dinner and said that he would move back into our bed chamber tonight. When I went up and got out of my clothes I felt suddenly as if I wanted my bed to myself still. I climbed into the window seat and looked out. The rain had started again and beat heavily on the windows. On a whim I suddenly untied the sash and opened the window, the wind hitting me full in the face. The rain came in and landed as cold as needles on my face and neck. I shut my eyes and felt the full force of it on my eye lids. The cold felt purifying.

“What in Heaven's name are you doing?” Michael had come into the room. I turned round. His shocked face made me realise that I must look a sight, my hair wet from the rain, my face wet also and the front of my night dress was drenched so that my breasts were clearly visible through the material.

Michael's eyes were fixed on my soaked breasts. He walked across the room like a man in a daze and reached behind me to shut the window. Then he took me by the shoulders and drew me to him, gripping me so that his fingers cut into my upper arms and kissed me forcefully on the mouth. He spun me around and half dragged me to the bed, his weight crushing me as he embraced me. I wriggled beneath him, trying to move him off but his hands crushed the one arm I tried to move and with his other, he draw up my nightdress. Then he tore at the garment, the wet fabric giving easily and I was left naked and exposed to his eyes.

His hands now mauled my breasts, gripping so that the flesh was bruised and marked. His mouth kissed me harder and harder, making my lips feel as bruised as the rest of me. Meanwhile he forced my legs apart with his knee, pushing until I was spread and ready. Then he pushed into me and ground his hips into mine, pushing me harder against the bed and then he rose and pushed again, thrusting hard. I moaned with the pain of it, tried to struggle and push him off but he covered my mouth with his and only held me the tighter, my wounded cunt feeling as if he was tearing it in two, instead of making love as he normally did.

He lifted himself so he could sit higher above me, his hands now held my two arms down and he thrust and he was panting hard like a man possessed. I now had the chance to cry out and I begged him to stop, that he was hurting me, that I was yet too weak for this but he didn't listen. My voice became louder as I tried to fight back but he was holding me down too tightly for me to move much.

He began to move his hips harder and I felt as though there were an iron bar inside me which was breaking me in half. I was crying openly now, the tears of pain running into my ears as I lay flat underneath him. He was panting hard, then he ground himself deep inside me and shook as he climaxed, then fell across me. In a few seconds he rolled off me and turned on his side. I lay still, shaking with the pain that coursed through my body. I sat up and felt blood trickle from between my thighs. I stood, grabbed the shreds of my torn nightdress and ran across to my dressing room.

Once inside, I poured out a bowl of water from my ewer. The torn night dress I used to wipe away the blood that covered my thighs now. I was still shaking and felt now cold to my very bones. I felt sickened. Never had Michael been so rough. Not even on our wedding night had I been in so much pain. The water in my basin was now red and I kept rubbing at myself, trying to clean away the nausea I felt at the violation. At last I ceased to bleed and I pulled out another night dress at random, this one a thicker cotton one, made for winter. It was higher at the throat than my usual ones, it was left over from my maiden days. I brushed out my knotted hair and plaited it.

I crept back into my bed room. Michael was still on his side, facing away from me. As I got in next to him, aching in every limb, he didn't stir. His breathing was heavy and I realised that he had fallen asleep. I lay still for at least an hour. I heard the clock strike half ten then eleven. I sat up. I felt as though I had been utterly defiled in some strange way. I felt as though I needed to be somewhere where I was at peace.

I wrapped a thick shawl around myself then went to my son's bedroom. I picked him up, warm and sleepy, carried him over to the rocking chair by the fire and rocked him in my arms while he slept. Stared at the flames all that long night until the morning light came in through the windows when I finally went back to the bedroom, into my dressing room. The clocks were striking five and I felt as though, despite being beside the fire all night, that I would never be warm again.