Why Was This Her Fate? The Story of Lyuba, Who Refused to Live Like Her Mother, Endured Her Father’s…

Why Was She Dealt Such a Life

As the years slipped quietly by, Lucy realised more and more with every birthday that she never wanted to live as her mother, Barbara, had. Although Barbara was still a young woman, she appeared far older than her age, the shadow of her life etched in lines of worry and tiredness. The blame for this lay squarely with her perpetually drunken husband, Simon.

Lucy, just seventeen, had chosen not to pursue college after finishing schoolshe couldnt bring herself to leave her mother alone. She might have run away long before, but pity and fear for her mother kept her rooted at home. Who else would help Barbara when Simon turned violent? Who would gently press a cold compress to her mothers bruises or bring her a glass of water afterwards?

That evening, her father came home stinking of ale yet again, collapsing heavily at the kitchen table. Barbara silently placed a plate of soup in front of him, only to watch him sweep it from the table, sending china and hot broth crashing to the floor, narrowly missing her feet.

Im sick of this soup! Simon glared at his wife with wild, unseeing eyes.

Lucy rushed to help her mother gather the shards, while her father, swaying unsteadily, stood up and as he passed, struck Barbara with his knee. He barked at his daughter:

Were going fishing at first light, girl. Well catch something for your mother to finally cook a proper stew.

Lucy prayed hed forget his plans, but at dawn, she awoke to his hand shaking her from sleep.

Up you get! The fish bite best at sunrise.

Lucy hurriedly dressed, and as she reached the door, Barbara came in with a pail of fresh milk, just drawn from the cow.

Did you look out? Theres a storm comingcant you see the clouds? Its folly to go to the river in such weather! Barbara tried to block Lucys way.

I wont let her goyoull get her drowned! she cried.

But Simon, his patience long expired, shoved Barbara hard so she stumbled and knocked over the milk. With a sneer, he seized Lucy, dragging her outside. Lucy looked up to see a dark bank of clouds rolling overhead. As they pushed off in the creaking rowboat, a wild wind rose, tossing the river into snarling waves. Fear gripped Lucy, but her father rowed hard for deeper waters, closer to the far bank. That, he insisted, was where the best fishing was found.

Almost reaching the distant shore, the wind grew madder still, lashing rain began to pelt them. Lucy clung to the sides of the boat, white-knuckled with terror.

My old man always said fishings best in a storm like this! Simon bellowed against the wind, heedless.

He rose to cast a line just as a vicious gust hurled water over the boat. Losing his balance, Simon pitched into the churning river. Lucy watched helplessly as the waves rolled over him and he flailed, gasping. Grabbing for an oar to help, she was herself thrown into the water. The boat capsized, and something struck Lucy hard on the headthen, darkness.

When she next opened her eyes, Lucy found herself on a narrow bed in a tiny, damp-smelling room. A bearded man entered; she could barely move or draw breath.

So, youre awake at last, he grunted, then turned to stoke the stove, but Lucy slipped back into oblivion, dreaming of a younger womanher motherwaiting somewhere.

When she woke again, the bearded stranger sat beside her, spooning some bitter-tasting herbal broth to her lips.

Drink up, youll feel better. A bit of food in you now, too, he insisted.

Time blurred. When Lucy finally regained strength, she crept to a window; outside, deep autumn reigned. A large flannel nightshirt enveloped her, and plaited hair swung over one shoulder. She was, clearly, in someones wooden cottage. Hungry, she wandered into the next room.

There you are! Sit at the table, have some bread, the man called as he stirred a pot, fragrant with cooking.

Embarrassed and confused, Lucy perched at the table. The man ladled out soup and sat opposite, eating heartily.

How did I end up here? she finally asked.

Eat first, talk after, he said, eyes narrowing.

Lucy finished her soup in silence.

You remember nothing, do you? he finally asked.

No, she whispered, shaking her head.

So thats it, then. To think, Ive cared for you all this time, and you remember nothing? Perhaps your memory was lost in the fever. Found you near drowned in the river, I did, and dragged you out.

Lucy remembered nothing, nor could she answer his questions.

At least you recall your own name? She shook her head again.

Well, thats how things are, then… Youre my wife, Valerie. Valerie Smith. He smiled a crooked, unpleasant smile.

That cant be… Lucy gasped in disbelief, but try as she might, her mind was blank.

Oh yes, it can, he grinned unpleasantly. Come, Ill remind you. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to the small bedroom. Ive waited long enoughhad to nurse you months, thought you were a goner. Now youll remember who your husband is.

Though Lucy struggled, he struck her, knocking her onto the bed.

Ungrateful girlI saved your life, and now youll remember who you belong to.

Exhausted, battered and ashamed, Lucy let the tears fall. From outside came the harsh drone of a saw. When her captor left for work, Lucy snatched an old coat, wrapped herself in it, and bolted for the woods along the riverbank. She spotted a motorboat tied with a padlock; before she could reach it, the bearded man thundered after her, shoving her down.

So thats how it is! Thought youd run away, did you? Alright, dont sulk now, I lost my head. Just upset you cant rememberyou nearly died, you know. Thought you were escaping? Not a chance. Come, lets warm you in the bathhousedo you at least remember my name? Its Clem. Clem Smith.

Obediently, dazed, Lucy followed him back. Her mind was a wasteland, and she yielded, helpless in her weakness, only watching for the right moment to try again.

Oh Lord, why did life saddle me with such fate? she often thought.

Clem, sour and exacting, kept Lucy busy with endless choresscrubbing, cooking, laundering. She was to muck out the cow shed, maintain spotless rooms, and, worst, allow his company in bed, enduring his roughness. If she resisted, he beat her. Soon she learnt obedience was her only shield.

Time inched on. Clem would head for the river or moors, sell fish and meat in the market, or else disappear for days. In his absence, Lucy savoured rare, fleeting peacedusty books were her only escape, no radio or television to be found. But his return flooded her with dread.

One day, claiming she needed firewood, Lucy went to the riverbank and eyed the motorboat, chained fast. The key hung by their doorshed noticed it. When Clem eventually dozed off after dinner, she snatched the key, wrapped up warm, and sprinted out. Fumbling with the lock, she finally jumped in and pushed away from the bankat which moment, a shot cracked overhead. Clem, gun in hand, glared from the shore; he was a notoriously good shot.

Row back, or next time I wont miss! He fired again. Lucy, heart pounding, turned back.

As she dragged herself ashore, Clem punched her to the cold earth, beating her until she blacked out and awoke again in her bed.

Youll not try that againor next time Ill chain you in the barn, he warned.

Another week passed. Lucy thought she would lose her mind in that lonely cabin. But as her strength returned, another change cameshe was suddenly sick every morning. Clem eyed her suspiciously.

So, youve gone and got yourself pregnant then?

Before long it was clear to them both; Lucy was expecting his child. With that, Clems attitude softened, if only justhe gave her lighter chores and his threats faded to sullen silence. One morning, he set off for market, rowed his boat across the river, and caught the bus to town as usual.

That cold November afternoon, Lucy wandered by the river. Suddenly, she heard a boats motor: a stranger, fishing tackle over his shoulder, stepped ashore and caught sight of her.

Lucy! Is that really you? He gaped in disbelief.

You must be mistaken, Lucy faltered. My names Valerie.

Dont be daft! Ive known you since you were a tot, carried you on my shoulders. Your mother Barbarashe buried your father, and thought you drowned as well! Shes been frantic these years. Im your old neighbour, Uncle George! Dont you remember? How did you come to be here?

I live here with my husband now, Lucy murmured, uncertain.

I never knew anyone lived here! Never saw a soul. But Lucy suddenly clutched his hand.

Please, Uncle Georgetake me back across the river, and Ill explain. Im frightened. Clem will kill me.

Quickly then, into the boat! As they stepped ashore, a shot rang out behind them. They ran for cover behind the ridge.

Inside Uncle Georges house, Lucy was greeted by a woman shed only seen in her fevered dreams.

Hello, Lucy said, timidly.

My darling! Barbara flew to her, arms wide. George, where on earth did you find her?

Barbaras joy knew no bounds. George explained what hed seen. Lucy still remembered nothing, but gradually, her memory flickered backsnatches of her childhood, her parents, the accident on the river. At last, it all came rushing in, including her escape from Clem, and how he had rescued her, but held her captive. She trembled.

Mum, if he finds us, hell kill us both. Hes not a manhes a brute, she wept.

Their neighbour, MaryGeorges wifegathered them close.

Barbara, shes right. You must leave at once. Go to my sisters in the villageshe lives alone and will keep you safe. Pack your things. George can drive you.

Barbara and Lucy, leaving their old cottage behind, bundled themselves into Georges weathered Austin. The memory of home flashed by as they drove away.

Clem, of course, went looking. He found the empty cottage, padlocked tight.

Who are you after? Mary demanded when he pounded at her door.

A friend. Might you know where shes gone?

I wouldnt know, she replied steadily, watching him stalk off in a rage, not fooled for a minute.

Later, with Georges help, Barbara sold the cottage and bought a small house in the village. Mary came too, helping clean, whitewash the ceiling, and brighten the little place up.

In time, Lucys memories fully returned, and the terror of Clem began to fade, though her darling little boy, Nicholas, remained a living reminder. Yet she cherished him more than anything, and so did his grandmother. Ahead of her lay hopethere was young Gregory, a kind local farmers son whod set his heart on proposing to Lucy and building a happy future together.