Emily

By christine lawrence

Emily

An historical Romance, set in the Portsmouth Borough Asylum during the latter years of World War 1.

With her sweetheart away on the front-line in Europe and through a series of life-shattering events, Emily finds herself losing both her family and her mind. Now living within the confines of the Asylum and forced to work in the

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christine Lawrence
• Release date: Feb 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9781838326142

Book preview

Also by Christine Lawrence

Novels

Caught in the Web

Payback

Don’t Step on the Cracks

Short story collections

Moments of Darkness

More Moments of Darkness

Copyright  © 2023 by Christine Lawrence

All rights reserved.

No part of this book maybe reproduced

in any manner whatsoever without

written permission from the author except

in the case of brief quotations embodied

in critical articles and reviews.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction

inspired by the real-life stories of those who lived and worked

in the Portsmouth Borough Asylum during World War 1.

Any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover photograph © Rollo Rawlings.

The Research

Funded by the Heritage Lottery, a group of research volunteers, working with the Good Mental Health Co-operative in 2021, looked at original patient records and hospital reports from the Borough of Portsmouth Lunatic Asylum, exploring books, articles and other research linked to the Portsmouth and Hampshire area. The group partnered with other local projects looking at life during that period and remembering the sacrifices made during the Great War. The outcome of this research was a pamphlet and online hub which contains more information and source materials. The aim of the project was to raise awareness generally about the social history of mental health care, to help reduce stigma and discrimination today. (Copyright © The Good Mental Health Co-operative 2021).

https://my.creative-learning.net/bundles/heritage-ww1

The author was privileged to be a part of this research group and during the process wrote several monologues based on the lives of those who were patients in the asylum at the time. Once the project was completed she decided to continue with developing one of the monologues into a novel. Emily is a fictional character but she could have been one of those women treated in the asylum in 1918. Her story is typical of the time but is purely fictional.

Christine would like to thank the Good Mental Health Co-operative for the opportunity to take part in this project.

About the author

Christine’s career as a psychiatric nurse led to her working with those with drug and alcohol issues, as well as in many fields of mental health. During her career she successfully completed an MSc in Addictive Behaviour. Following her early retirement, she went back to studying and achieved a BA hons in English Literature and Creative Arts, followed by an MA in Creative Writing at Portsmouth University. She was one of the 2012 Writers to Watch in the Portsmouth BookFest of that year and has short stories published in Portsmouth Fairy Tales for Grown Ups, Pompey Writes, Star and Crescent and Day of the Dead. She has written and performed for events including the Victorious Festival, St. Valentine’s Massacre, Portsmouth BookFest, Portsmouth DarkFest, Day of the Dead, Holmes Fest, at several venues in Portsmouth, including The Guildhall, Portsmouth Historical Dockyard, The Kings Theatre, the Square Tower and the New Theatre Royal.

In 2017 Christine was one of the writers who took part in the Writing Edward King project at Portsmouth City Museum which received Arts Council Funding. She performed her writing for this project in several venues across the city. In 2018 she was one of the founders of Portsmouth’s spoken word group, T’Articulation, and is a Director of the Portsmouth Writer’s Hub. In 2019 she was a co-writer for Cursed City - Dark Tides, a trans-media production for DarkFest. In 2021, Christine was appointed to lead workshops on the BBC/National Libraries, Novels that Shaped our World project, using Andrea Levy’s Small Island as the novel to work with.

Christine’s novels, Caught in the Web, Payback and Don’t Step on the Cracks, and her collections of short stories, Moments of Darkness and More Moments of Darkness, are all available from The Book Shop at Lee-on-the-Solent, direct from the author at christinelawrence14@btinternet, or from Amazon. She is a member of the Portsmouth Authors’ Collective and her books can be found on the table at many of the Authors’ Collective’s events.

Christine’s Facebook page is https://www.facebook.com/Novelist2021

Portsmouth Authors’ Collective website: https://www.portsmouthauthors.wordpress.com

Thanks as always to my husband Mark, for all his patience and feedback.

Thanks to my writing community:

Jackie Green, Eileen Phyall, Margaret Jennings, Lynne Stone, Will Sutton, Helen and Richard Salsbury, Alison Habens, Tom Sykes, Annie Kirby, Loree Westron, Pete Adams,

all at the Portsmouth Writers' Hub, Springwood Writers, Tea Tray Creatives,

Will Sutton’s Edit Club, Scribblers Salon and Write your Novel group members,

for the help, critiquing and support from you all.

Thanks also to the Good Mental Health Co-operative,

especially Carolyn Barber and Sarah Haskett,

and to Rollo Rawlings (King Rollo) for the film Emily

and thanks for the use of his photograph for the cover.

Emily

by

Christine Lawrence

Prologue

Emily

When she opened her eyes she was back in her room. Feeling trapped, the walls closed in, the stain on the ceiling in the shape of a crib, mocking her. She closed her eyes again, trying to shut out the pain. It was still there, deep in her core.

Noises roused her again. It was nurse Paxton. Maud was her name although Emily knew her as Paxton. Briefly a thought brought a giggle to Emily’s throat, ‘take out the letter u and she would be Mad the same as me.’ Turning to face her, Emily wondered why she was beside the bed and not out in the ward doing her duties. Tall and smartly dressed in her uniform, a grey dress reaching to her ankles with a crisp white apron and her hair caught up in the cotton cap which covered the whole of her head. She was smiling, something Emily always felt uneasy about. It usually meant something bad was about to happen when they smiled at you.

Emily didn’t want to talk to her; the least you talk the better, she’d learnt. But when Nurse Paxton reached for her hand something shifted. The hard lump of ice around Emily’s heart melted just for that moment, but long enough to let her in.

‘Emily, it’s alright, you’re safe.’

Those few words were all it took to release the flow of tears and Emily’s story. The nurse handed her a linen handkerchief to mop her face as she spoke about her plight and how she came to be in the asylum.

Chapter One

Emily

At the start of the war, The Great War, they called it now, there had been a feeling across Portsmouth of determination, patriotism, a belief that it would be a wonderful thing to take part in. Surely it would be all over in a flash. The young men wanted to rush in and be a part of it, their biggest fear that they would miss the fun, the adventure of a lifetime. The older men weren’t so enthusiastic, knowing the hardships to come but the women were swept along with it all and pushed their young men to go.

Emily’s two elder brothers Harry and Edward went, first one and then the other. Her younger brother Percy was still at school and she thanked heaven for that. The house was quiet enough without the elder two filling every space with their loud voices and heavy boots.

Ma kept house and was always there, holding the family together. Pa kept the butcher shop in Buckland which had always been busy with enough work for the two eldest boys before the war. All the same, Emily was grateful that her sweetheart, Billy Anderson, worked in the dockyard and had not gone with the others. She had not been like other women, encouraging their loved ones to war. But time brings changes to all lives whether we want it or not.

Southsea - September 1917

The sun had gone down beyond the horizon, turning the burning sea to a dull black.

It was the first time she had ever let him go this far. Afterwards she wondered what it had been about the evening that had led to this. Before, she had always been proud to have self-control, was better than any of her girlfriends who had spoken to her of things they’d done with their sweethearts. Now it was done and she wondered what all the fuss had been about. Suddenly she felt trapped. Pushing away the fear, she told herself she would be safe this time. It wouldn’t happen again. She would never be that stupid.

Billy held her hand in his. She sensed he was building himself up to ask her. Emily suppressed a giggle.

‘What is it, Billy?’ she whispered.

‘Emily, I…’

‘What?’

‘You know how I feel about you, Emily.’ He took a breath and looked at her. His eyes were dark like his hair, his long legs stretched out before him on the shingle. She could almost hear his heartbeat before he went on. ‘I can’t wait to marry you.’

Emily took her hand from his. ‘I know and I love you too. I’m not ready to settle down yet. I mean, I don’t want to get married until I’ve lived life a little. I don’t want to be worn out like my Ma, with babies and hard work every day. I want more than that.’

‘I know you want more Emily, but I thought after tonight you would feel differently. You are mine now, you know that.’

Shaking her head, Emily laughed.

‘Why are you laughing?’

Seeing the hurt look on his face, she paused.

‘Well?’

‘I do love you Billy, I’ve already said that. But I am not yours, nor anyone else’s either. I am my own person and I’m not ready to marry yet. When I am, you will be my first choice.’

‘But you let me do it.’

‘Billy, I know what we have just done together. I wanted it too. I didn’t just let you. To be truthful, I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the sun setting, I don’t know. I have strong feelings for you but I don’t want to marry you yet.’

‘What if I go to war? I might be gone a long time.’

Emily felt the chill coming from the sea. ‘You won’t though. They need you in the dockyard.’

‘All my mates are going. I can’t stay here and not be a part of it.’

‘You’d better go then. Ask me again when you get back.’

They walked back through the streets to Emily’s home in silence. Billy still held her hand but once they’d reached her front door, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and entered the house with just a quiet, ‘Goodnight,’ leaving him in the street as the door slammed shut.

Emily’s Ma was waiting in the kitchen, sitting beside the range. She looked at Emily as she entered the room.

‘You’re late home. Was that Billy you were with in the street?’

‘Sorry Ma, I didn’t think you’d still be up. We walked back from Southsea. We were watching the sun set over the sea.’

‘Very romantic, I’m sure. Billy is a good lad.’

‘He is.’ Emily moved to the scullery door. ‘I’m in love with him, Ma.’

‘You’re at the age when you think you’re in love with every young man who says a kind word to you.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘I well remember those times.’

‘I know Ma. I’m too young to settle down, but Billy wants to marry me. I told him I’m not ready.’

‘You will be careful? Don’t let him get too close.’

Emily blushed. ‘I’m not stupid, Ma.’

‘Emily, I know you think I’m old and past it but I know how hard it can be to say no. You have your whole life before you. I just don’t want you to throw away your chance to have a good life by getting married too young. There’s plenty of time for all that. There, I’ve said my piece.’

‘Oh, Ma, I love you. I will be careful, don’t you worry about that. I’ll hold Billy at arm’s length until I’m quite ready.’ She gave her Ma a hug.

Once in her own room, Emily took off her only good dress and carefully hung it on the hook behind the door. She looked at the blue of the wool which complemented her own blue eyes, thinking as she did that she would always remember this dress as the one she was wearing this night. Brushing her hair, she wondered how anyone could think this dull brown colour could be considered beautiful as Billy did. ‘Love is blind,’ she laughed at herself, plaited her hair and got into bed.

Lying awake for hours, she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened on the beach with Billy, flitting across things that had been said and things they’d done. She was confused. It was wrong. But it had felt so right at the time. And why afterwards had she needed to hold back, to push him away? She only knew she was afraid of being tied down to the drudgery of being a wife and mother. Maybe she didn’t love him enough. Maybe she was just selfish, wanting something that was beyond a mere woman’s dreams. She didn’t really know what she wanted from her life, not yet, only that it wasn’t that.

Chapter Two

Emily

Autumn evenings had set in and It was dark by the time she’d finished her day’s work at Mrs. Cartwright’s house. Working as a general house-maid was hard, the hours were long and there was little time for chatting and no-one to chat to anyway. Emily’s friends had started to get jobs that the men had always done before the war started. Her friend Mabel worked in the post office now, sorting the mail, and Maureen, her old schoolfriend, was working in the dockyard. She remembered only a short time ago when Billy had told her he might be leaving the dockyard to join the Army. Was it just a threat to make her want to get married sooner? It didn’t matter, she wasn’t going to be pressured into doing something she wasn’t ready for, whatever he did or didn’t do.

Thinking of Billy gave her a warm feeling. She thought about the times they’d been together over the past few weeks. Despite her intentions, they had found moments to get close again. It was hard to resist, when you were in the arms of such a sweet man, not to let yourself get carried away with making love. Of course Emily knew she was taking a risk, and every time it happened, Billy persevered with his wishes to marry sooner rather than later. But Emily still wasn’t ready for that. So he would go off to war and she would wait for him. She had made that perfectly clear to him.

Pa was in the kitchen, sitting in Ma’s place beside the range. His butcher’s overall was draped on the chair he usually sat in and the air smelt of raw meat. Pa’s face was drawn and there were splatterings of dried blood in his grey hair. Emily pushed aside feelings of nausea and annoyance. ‘Where’s Ma?’ she asked.

‘Ma’s unwell. She’s lying down upstairs. You’ll have to get our tea.’

‘What’s the matter with her?’ Emily moved to the stairs.

‘Got a fever. And she’s been sick.’ He stood up. ‘She’ll be alright tomorrow. Just needs to rest.’

‘She’s not pregnant?’ Emily felt a coldness run through her.

‘No! Well, I don’t know. But I don’t think so. It looks worse than that. But hopefully just a chill.’

Emily climbed the stairs, fearfully remembering the fevers that were spreading throughout the city.

Ma lay on the bed, covers thrown back. Standing for a moment, not knowing what to do, Emily swallowed down her fear and gently touched her Ma’s hand. Her skin was clammy to touch and the sheets were damp. Her hair was loose and tangled, strands stuck to her neck. Opening her eyes, Ma seemed unable to focus on Emily. ‘Harold, is that you?’ She whispered.

‘It’s me, Ma. Emily. Should I fetch the doctor?’

‘No need. I’ll be fine with a bit of rest.’ She gripped Emily’s hand with a surprising strength. ‘Look after Pa and the boy. Get the tea, won’t you.’

‘Of course. I’ll bring you up some broth in a while. Do you need anything else?’

Ma shook her head. ‘So tired,’ she said. ‘I’ll just sleep for a bit.’

Emily moved to the door, turned to look back at her Ma who had already closed her eyes again. Standing there for a moment until she could see the rise and fall of Ma’s chest, Emily quietly opened the bedroom door and closing it behind her, made her way back down the dark stairs to the kitchen below. Her Pa looked up as she entered the room. She thought he’d been crying. Pa never cried. Emily moved across the room as he stood up.

‘It’s alright Pa, Ma will be alright, won’t she?’

He sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his face. ‘Course she will. I’m being daft. My Rose is a strong woman, she always was. Here, give me a hug girl.’

She stepped into his arms, always strong, always the same. But inside she was afraid. What would they do without Ma? So many people in town were dying of the fever. You never knew when or where it would strike. And she would be the only woman left in the house if anything happened and Ma was lost.

‘Yes, Pa, she will be alright. I’m going to get our tea and make Ma some broth as well. Where is Percy?’

But she hadn’t been alright. Ma got worse and Pa didn’t know how to cope with any of it. Emily went to work each morning with a lump in her throat as she tried not to let the fear of losing Ma overcome her. Working hard all day was a way of not facing what was sure to happen. She’d seen it so many times before in the people living nearby. Whenever an illness spread through the community, people died. She knew this.

A few days later she woke suddenly, feeling so cold. It was too quiet, almost as if the house itself had stopped breathing. Creeping down the dark stairs into the kitchen below to light the fire, her Pa was sitting there again, with his head in his hands. He looked up as she entered the room. Even before he’d said anything she knew.

‘Ma’s gone,’ was all he said. His eyes were dry but his hands shook as he stared into nothingness.

‘Oh, Pa,’ Emily knelt beside him and held his hands. ‘What are we going to do without her?’

Pa shook his head and said nothing.

Wiping away the tears that had somehow started to flow, Emily stood and looked about the room. She shivered. ‘The fire needs lighting,’ she said. ‘You’ll need to light it and I’ll get the breakfast ready. I’ll be back down in a minute.’

She turned and went up the stairs to see her Ma for the last time. The room was cold, the curtains drawn tightly across the window. Emily opened them to let a little light in and moved to the bed. Her ma looked so pale and her stillness cut Emily to the heart. Her once vital and lively Ma was gone and in her place was this shell of nothing. It was all wrong. And there was a rotten smell in the room, the smell of death. Emily gagged and went back to the window. She pulled the curtains apart and opened the window wide. The fresh gust of an autumn wind blew the curtains in as the air in the room was refreshed. Emily went back downstairs for hot water to wash her Ma.

Pa hadn’t moved. Emily’s head was spinning with all that needed to be done. She shook her head.

‘Light the fire, Pa,’ she said. ‘I’m going next door to ask for help with Ma and you’ll need to send for the doctor for the death certificate. Ma will need to be cleaned and dressed ready for the undertaker. And wake up Percy. He will need to

be fed and then go to school.’

Ma’s funeral was a small affair, held in the nearby church of St. Marys. She was buried in the cemetery behind the prison, in New Road. Before, it had always been a place that Emily had loved to walk, amongst the trees with its meadow flowers. There were always squirrels and the sound of birdsong. It was a lovely place to spend quiet moments. Now, and forever more, it would be a place to come to talk to her Ma.

Chapter Three

Emily

Ma was sorely missed by Emily, the only girl. Working as a skivvy in the big house was hard but made even harder when she had to start all over again when she got home at night. Death had taken Ma away and Emily wanted to follow her.

It was hard to keep the three of them fed and the house cleaned when Emily was working six days a week as house-maid. She should have given up the job but the thought of being nothing but a house-wife replacement for Ma was too much. Even the butcher’s shop was flagging, and Pa was struggling to make a living any more.

Billy was holding Emily’s hand when he told her.

‘I’ve signed up. I had to do it Emily. I got one of those letters put through the door.’ He blushed and looked away.

Emily shivered. ‘What do you mean, one of those letters?’

‘A white feather.’

She said nothing.

‘I know I said I wouldn’t go but don’t think I’ve got a choice any more. You have to see that, Emily. So many of the lads have gone from the dockyard. There’s only old men left and now there’s more and more women working there. It shames me knowing I’m the only youngster. Or I will be before long.’

They were walking across the common. The wind whipped against their faces as Emily tried to gather her thoughts. It was wrong, this war, so wrong. Three years had passed and it was only luck that her two brothers were still alive, although God only knew where and how they were surviving. She’d heard all the stories and seen what it could do to a man. Those that had returned on short leave weren’t like young men any more. They had turned into old men. Each one of them had a crazed look in their eyes, or were angry, changed beyond all recognition. She’d been glad not to have seen Harry or Edward during these past years. Rather not see them at all than to have seen the changes in them.

‘I don’t want you to go, Billy. I don’t care what people say about you. Your work in the docks is important. Someone has to keep the ships repaired and seaworthy. You’ve said that yourself, haven’t you?’

‘I did, of course I did, but I think I was wrong now. I’m starting to feel ashamed of myself and can’t live with it anymore. I have to do the right thing, Emily.’

They walked in silence for a while longer and soon were at the pier. Her hand was still in his but she could already feel the distance between them stretching out into the future.

‘Come on, let’s have a cup of tea.’

Billy opened the door to the tea room and in they went, into the warmth, the steam of the tea urn and the people’s chatter clouding the windows facing the Solent. Billy wiped the condensation away with a sweep of his arm and they both looked out at the choppy sea before he turned to face her.

‘I’ll be going away on training in a few days time and I know you’re going to say no again, but I can’t go without asking you once more. Emily, why won’t you marry me before I go? We can have a quick ceremony and plan a big party for when this is all over. It would mean the world to me.’

Emily was unable to bring herself to look at him. Her answer would hurt his feelings yet she knew it was the right thing to do.

‘Emily?’ he reached across and touched her arm.

‘I’m not going to marry you, Billy. I don’t want you to go to war, of course I don’t. I’m scared to death that I’ll lose you, that I won’t see you again, or if I do, you’ll be changed. But I can’t marry you yet. I’m just not ready for marriage. I’ve told you before and nothing’s changed since then. If—when we survive this terrible war, ask me again. There won’t be anyone else for me. Not ever.’

The look on his face almost made her change her mind. Her stubborn streak stopped her even as she wondered that maybe she should have relented and agreed