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The Bugle App

Turner's Rage: Chapter Two

The Bugle App

James Seymour

16 March 2024, 8:52 PM

Turner's Rage: Chapter Two

Turner's Rage: List of Characters

Keep track of the characters here


Chapter 2


Jonathan and Thomas arrived at the house, finding the children at breakfast in the kitchen.

“Thomas, please check with Anne on your mother’s condition while I take some breakfast!

Ah, Marcia, what have you been doing here?”


Marcia looked up with a beaming smile of joy, yelling, “Father, Father, look at this!” Jonathan

walked around the table and admired the coloured crayon lines exploding across the page.

Madeline whispered, “It’s a pirate ship!”


“Ah, perhaps it needs some blue for the sea down here?” Jonathan pointed, and Marcia

found a blue crayon and started colouring urgently.


Jonathan kissed Marcia on her forehead and gave her a little hug, which pleased her

immensely.


Poking his head carefully around the door, William faced his father’s glaring eyes. An apple

fell out of William’s pocket as he took a step backwards in fright. Jonathan Turner was of

medium height, about five feet eight inches, but with a strong build and thick dark brown hair.

His muscular body gave him an imposing presence. He was a foreboding sight sitting there,

straight-backed and with a sour expression.


Now glaring into his son’s eyes, Jonathan was on the verge of beating the boy.

‘If only William were the blessing Thomas was to the family!’ Then he recalled the boy

peering into the bedroom last night and the actions he may have observed. Worried if he

beat the boy, it may all come out – he checked himself. For a man in Jonathan’s position in

society, he preferred his matrimonial details not to be discussed publicly. He decided on a

softer approach.


William slowly walked around the kitchen door, facing his father; he straightened his back

and gritted his teeth, ready for a belting.


“Where have you been, William? You know you have morning chores! Get about them, boy,

before I strap you!” William’s eyes opened in horror, and he ran from the room. Jonathan

Turner smiled – he enjoyed handing out discipline. Better than that, he admired how quickly

William reacted – the boy was quick – it reminded him of himself. His temper subsided

slightly, with breakfast now becoming his focus.


William rushed up the stairs and ran straight into Anne, coming out of her mother’s bedroom

with paper in hand for a letter to Bethany. He put his arms around her waist and hugged her

tightly. Anne stopped in surprise.


“Father will beat me again, and I’m scared for Mother! Do not let him hurt mother or me,

please, Anne? Can I see mother?”


Anne was William’s elder sister by eleven years and loved him with all her heart. She was a

loving, gentle girl, but there was underlying steel in her armour and an intelligent mind that

would help her stand up to her father. She loved playing pirates and ‘hide and seek’ with

William and marvelled at his imagination. Wiping away the tears running down his face and


folding her arms around the shuddering child, she knelt, kissed his cheek, and gave him a

big hug.


“No one will hurt you, William. Doctor Stephens told us mother would be better soon, but we

must not disturb her as the doctor is giving her a sleeping potion. Now come with me. We

will draw a pirate.”


The housekeeper was passing with various linens in her hands. “Ah - Mrs Jennings, I will be

with William upstairs in the boys’ bedroom.”


Mrs Jennings turned, “I thought you and Clementine were with Mrs Turner, Miss Anne?”

“No. Doctor Stephens is with her now. Clementine is in the kitchen with Madeline and

Marcia.”


Anne pulled some chalk and a slate from a drawer in the boys’ bedroom.

“How about you draw me a picture of a pirate, William?”


William toyed with the chalk as he was not presently interested in drawing. His mind was

bursting with the images of what transpired last night and what the consequence would be

for him. Anne, drafting a letter to her sister Eleanora, noticed William watching her.

“What is it, William?”


He looked down and moved backwards and forwards on his feet, considering his words.

Then, raising his eyes, he said, “Anne, if I told you something that was a secret, would you

keep it a secret?”


“Of course I would, William – I’m one of the pirate crew! So, it would remain a secret!”

William gave a slight shudder. “I was cold last night, and I woke up wanting mother. So, I tip-

toed down the stairs. When I opened the door so little, I saw something I should not have

seen!”


Anne was unsure she would welcome William’s next words.

“Are you sure this was not a dream, William?”

“No, I got out of bed and went down!”

Anne leaned back on her chair and took a deep breath.

“Anne, you promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise!”

“Father was beating mother with his hand. I was so scared! He saw me at the door. I think he

will beat me, too.”

William’s comments now confirmed Anne’s suspicions. She was aware of women’s

dependent position in a marriage relationship and how she was helpless to assist. But

William was frightened – and with good reason!


“William, I think you may have been dreaming. I think it would be best if you forget this

matter. We will keep this as a pirate’s secret between you and me. If father asks, say you

had a bad dream. This way, you will be safe, and it will stay a secret.”


William shivered and looked straight into Anne’s face. She reflected, ‘What a handsome boy

you are!’ William saw the reassurance in her smile and collapsed into her arms for a big hug.

Jonathan Turner felt satisfied as he finished a good breakfast in the kitchen.


Thomas, Jonathan’s eldest son, rushed in, “Father, Doctor Stephens has asked for you in

the drawing room. He asked for you alone!”


Jonathan scowled at his son, then moved through the hallway and found old Jeremy

Stephens sitting at a table, looking down into a cup of tea.

“Jeremy?”

“Jonathan.” Doctor Stephens knew this would be a difficult discussion and decided on the

most diplomatic approach for Jonathan. They must agree on the medical care that Eleanora

would require. Unfortunately, this would not please Jonathan. He paused, wiping his mouth.

“Jonathan, let us talk a bit longer than last time. I need your help if Eleanora is to regain her

health. She will recover, but she is weak and must rest! Undisturbed rest!”

“This she shall have, Doctor!” Jonathan stood aloof.

“I have given Anne and Clementine instructions on what is needed. They are both good,

smart girls and capable of nursing your wife. She will be recuperating for several weeks – I

will call as often as possible.”


Jeremy Stephens had served as the family Doctor for over forty years and delivered the

eight Turner children. He was also a good friend of Jonathan’s, serving with him on the

church parish council. Jeremy was usually a happy fellow, always smiling, but not today. He

looked up into Jonathan Turner’s questioning eyes.


“Jonathan, I know you strongly need comfort from your wife. I also understand that you have

been a faithful husband. Johnathan, it is time you understood that you might not expect

repayment in kind!”


Jonathan’s face tightened, and the colour in his temple slightly glowed. He stared directly

into Jeremy’s eyes, concerned about what might be said next.


“Jonathan, Eleanora has provided you with eight children. Praise God that they are healthy

and beautiful. But, childbirth has a major effect on a woman’s health. With the number of

births, there must be some consideration of the effects this has on Eleanora’s body. It would

help if you thought of this in the future. It is in your interest that your relations with her are

gentle.”


“Jeremy, what are you telling me – that I cannot have union with my wife? That she cannot

fulfil her role in our marriage?”


“No, I’m not saying that – what I’m saying is that you must master your enthusiasm for that

union. Surely, you understand that as people grow older, they slow down and need more

care. Take care and be gentle with her. That is not hard for a fellow like you, who dearly

loves his wife.”


“I expect my wife to serve me as promised on our wedding day. However, at your request, I

will curb my demands.”

“Thank you, Jonathan – you will both benefit from this. And it must be at least three months

before you share her bed again. Even then, I will insist on examining her before one of these

unions occurs.”

“What!”


Jonathan stepped back. He was a man who expected his nightly comfort. This enforced

abstinence would be most inconvenient. The anger welled up inside him.

Jeremy, expecting this reaction, led quickly to his next point.

“Now, there is just one other matter!”

“I thought you had said enough, Jeremy!”


“On examining Eleanora, I found bruises on her face, arms, and back as if someone beat

her. These were not injuries that would have come from a union of loving partners, Jonathan.

I’m not sure how these injuries were incurred or when, but I would ask that you protect your

wife in future and ensure this does not happen again.”


Jonathan Turner looked away from the Doctor. His mind flew into a panic. In his enthusiasm

for union last night, he had beaten her into submission. He felt some guilt but reassured

himself that this was his wife’s duty – otherwise, the population would decrease. Then he

shuddered at the memory of the door creaking open and William peeking through, looking

for his mother. The boy dashed away quickly on being discovered. However, Jonathan was

not sure how much he had seen.


“I am not sure how she came by those bruises, but whoever caused them shall receive a

beating if I catch them. I will talk with her once she recovers and ask how this happened.”

Jeremy looked long and hard at Jonathan in silence, then sipped his cup of tea.


“Jonathan, you hold an honoured place in our community as Chairman of the Parish Council.

As a council member, I can assure you of my total support. I would advise that it might be

prudent if your wife is confined until the bruises are well gone. Who knows what gossip may

start if Eleanora appears in her present state?”


“Ah……I agree, Doctor. I understand. Thank you for the advice and your understanding. It is

much appreciated.”


Doctor Jeremy Stephens refrained from judgment but surmised what happened. He took a

final sip of his cup of tea and took his leave. “I will show myself out, Jonathan.”

Jonathan stood there silently, his anger rising as he knew he must not touch his wife again

for some time. His knuckles grew white as the grasp of both hands gripped the mantelpiece.

He steadied himself. But he must have comfort. How?


Before leaving, Jeremy made a final comment. “Ah, Jonathan …. Eleanora is with child!”

Jonathan turned in disbelief, “She never said this last night.”


“It may be between two and three months. She will need extra care during her confinement.

You were fortunate she did not lose the child this morning – yet this may still occur. Good

morning, Jonathan.”


As Doctor Stephens left, Anne quickly moved beside him and whispered, “Doctor, would you

have time for William, as he has blood on him and is shaking awfully.”

“Where is the boy, Anne?”

“In the kitchen with Simeon.”


Doctor Stephens quickly moved into the kitchen, where Mrs Jennings talked with the

chimney sweeps in harsh tones. He saw the boy cowering on a chair. Noticing a shirt sleeve

covered in blood, Doctor Stephens quickly examined him and found no physical injuries.

However, he was obviously either in shock or in a state of fear. Either way, he needed

settling down. Mrs Jennings, turning from her conversation, looked at William and the doctor,

eyeing the bloodied sleeve. “Why, Doctor Stephens, I thought you were gone; the sheets

must have rubbed against his sleeve as I carried him downstairs.” The doctor nodded.

“Anne, please get a blanket and wrap him up. Make sure he stays warm for the next few

hours. No chores, no school; I will advise Reverend Taggart as I pass. Keep him warm and

quiet. I will call again this afternoon and check on Mrs Turner and William.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”


Jeremy Stephens took his leave, walked down the hallway, and exited by the front door. He

believed Jonathan Turner to be a sensible man who was well-mannered and successful in

business. He found it difficult to accept that Jonathan, a fellow member of the church parish

council, would beat his wife. But it was common with those who had money. The more

money, the more beatings it seemed. Stephens frowned – there was no other explanation –

the bruising was fresh. He knew Jonathan’s wife would recover with a month’s rest but better

three months. She surely deserved a rest after providing eight children and another on the

way.


There were no money troubles – Jonathan could afford extra help around the house.

Eleanora would recover, although, after last night, she might still lose the baby. Perhaps in

her state, that may be the best thing. He was more concerned about William. What would

have put the child into shock? There were no physical injuries – there must be some other

cause! Jeremy Stephens thought hard as he walked away down High Street. ‘Perhaps there

was a witness!’


Standing alone in the drawing room, with his hands on the sideboard near the window,

Jonathan gazed out, seeing nothing as he considered the implications of his conversation

with Jeremy. His mind raced – the prospect of being without the comfort of a wife for the next

three months was not acceptable. How would he cope with that? He pulled out his

handkerchief and wiped his brow. Another child – God was blessing them with another child.

How wonderful! Please let it be another boy. He must ensure Eleanora was cared for over

the next few months.


Clementine was already helping around the house, and she could do more. He would stop

her from finishing school lessons for three months and set her to work with Mrs. Jennings.

Perhaps Anne should not attend the bakery and stay home – no, she was too important now

in managing the finances and the office staff. Johnathon decided he would increase

Clementine’s load – it would benefit her. This change may even save some money on her

finishing school fees.


What troubled him was his desire for his wife. He was a man who needed a union often. He

was a faithful husband and never touched another woman. He sighed. Perhaps now he must

think like other men did - find an alternative. He needed advice on this.


Jonathan was due at a Bakers Guild meeting in London next Tuesday. It was Thursday now.

He would consult his brother Richard, who ran a small tavern in Ewell – The Black Swan. By

breaking his journey there, he would discuss the issues with his brother. Jonathan and

Richard were close and shared similar outlooks on business. Richard was a risk-taker and

left home early, not keen on becoming a baker.


He now rented a building in Ewell, where he ran a prosperous tavern. The rental agreement

with the local Manor Lord required a sharing of profits, which Richard considered unfair as

the pub’s profits were growing nicely.


For the last few years, he had mounted a search for new business opportunities. A letter had

come requesting a visit from Jonathan when convenient, and Richard would seek Jonathan’s

opinion on a new venture. The London trip would be a good opportunity for Jonathan to visit

Richard and share his predicament.


Jonathan was satisfied with this strategy. His planning was always well thought out, ensuring

thorough consideration of new ventures. The one failing was his rage, which quickly

heightened if anything went wrong. Sometimes, deciding in haste would prove costly for him.

At present, he must keep the family’s situation stable but, more importantly, private! Now

was the time to talk with his wife gently and then William. If William saw too much, then he

must silence the boy somehow. That would be a challenge with a six-year-old.


He turned from the window, moved slowly up the stairs, and stopped at his wife’s bedroom.

Having considered what he should say, he entered and found Clementine sitting at her

mother’s side, stroking her hand and quietly talking with her.


“Where is Anne?” Jonathan asked – he wanted privacy in the next few minutes.

“She is at the bakery catching up on her work – caring for mother this morning took some

time, and when she heard you and the doctor were here, she rushed off.”


“Ah, she is a fine young lady—the same as you, Clementine, sitting here taking care of your

mother. I am so thankful for you both. I will call you back when we finish talking. You might

check with Mrs Jennings on the household duties and where William is?”


Clementine, at fourteen, was finished at the church school and undertaking finishing lessons

three days a week. Outside of these lessons, she assisted her mother with running the

house. With her energy, health, and adventurous spirit, Jonathan saw potential in

Clementine. She was well educated - could read and write and was gifted with some skill in

mathematics but not as sound as Anne. He felt she could run a business for him in the

coming years. The only problem was her loud booming voice, fit for a sergeant major rather

than a sweet young girl. He was surprised at the softness in her voice today and found

another quality in her: empathy.


“Certainly, Father. I shall wait for you to call.”

Eleanora Turner gave a slight tremble and turned her head away from Jonathan. She rested

in a large double bed with soft pillows and a light bedspread. The sheets were white and

crisp. She was a beautiful woman at forty-two, even after delivering eight children. Her white

complexion was flawless, and her long golden hair draped over her shoulders and covered


her full breasts in a beautiful blue nightgown. She wore a slight rouge on her cheeks, just

enough to make her look radiant.

Jonathan loved this woman with all his heart and wanted her immediately, yet he knew he

must hold back – give her time to recover. He marvelled at how she became more beautiful

as she matured in age.

He gently picked up her hand.

“How are you, my darling, Eleanora?”


Eleanora shook again and then slowly turned and looked at him. He could see the bruises

on her cheeks and arms. Her eyes were tired and red, and from a closer look, he saw that

under the rouge, she was pale, probably from loss of blood, and displayed signs of little

energy.


“Jon, you beat me last night. You promised never to do that again, yet last night you did.

Why? I asked you to stop, I pleaded with you, yet it was as if you were enjoying it. Then you

forced yourself on me so violently and hurt me!” She began sobbing.

“Jon, please, I am your wife, your helpmeet. I have always honoured and served you well,

but you must not treat me so.”


Jonathan Turner sat in silence and knew what she said was true. He would not deny that he

enjoyed the violent union. His lust drove the complete loss of control last night, and even

now, Jonathan wanted more but knew he needed forgiveness for his acts. It frightened him

that he unknowingly harmed his loving wife. What was at work within him that caused this?

He could not speak. He just sat there in shame, looking into her moist eyes.


“The Doctor told me to remain in bed for some time. He will visit regularly and check on my

recovery. He left potions with Anne and Clementine, who will care for me. But I must have

rest, Jonathan; you must let me rest. Come the time, we will have union again, but never

again like that, please, or you may not have me anymore.”


The words slowly came from his trembling mouth.

“Please forgive me, Eleanora. I know I have acted wrongly, and I will plead my case with the

Almighty in Church on Sunday. I will let you rest for as long as you need and consult the

doctor regularly on your progress. Let me know of anything that you need.”

He sat there, clutching for the right words.


“I love you so much, my Dear! I am ashamed of what happened last night. I lost control.

Please forgive me!”

Eleanora smiled slightly in relief and placed her hand on his.

He leant over to kiss her, but she turned her head away.

“Why did you not tell me you were with child? I am so pleased for us. Another one for the

family.”

She turned slowly and looked at him again. “I was not sure, Jonathan - it is early, and I was

not sure. But it might be lost – you must not abuse me anymore, or you will harm the child.


Please let me rest now. And Jon, it will be best if you sleep in the guest room for the next few

months.”

“Yes, Dear. I will leave you now as much is happening in the house and the bakery. I will visit

with you after dinner.”


Jonathan left quietly, finding Clementine outside, waiting for him. She asked calmly, “Father,

I am afraid for Mother. She suffers greatly, and did you see the bruising on her arms and

cheeks? It is as if she was in a fight……….!” She went silent as he stared at her.


“The Doctor advised me on all this, and we shall hear no more of it. Thank you for looking

after your mother, and please stay with her while she requires it. She must have a long rest,

and we will take a holiday when she recovers. There are bakeries and cake shops in

London. I wish for your and Anne’s opinion on them. Now, where is William?”

“He is in his room, Father – drawing pirates. Doctor Stephens said he must remain at home

today and rest.”


Jonathan nodded and climbed the stairs to the second-floor bedrooms. Wrapped tightly in a

blanket, William sat on the floor, drawing on a slate. The young boy appeared relatively

peaceful in his task.


For a few minutes, Johnathan considered his relationship with his son. William was hot and

cold. The boy was full of energy and vigour and could do almost any physical activity at his

young age, but he was also full of mischief, and there was a stubborn streak in him that

clashed violently with Jonathan.


What did he see? What had he heard? He must find out.

“William, the Doctor, advised that you need rest – you may stay home today and not attend

school. However, I do not want you involved in mischief. Why are you unwell – did you not

sleep well last night?”


At six years old, William had a sharp mind and could see his chance at an excuse.

“Nightmares, Father! Anne told me I was too hot in bed, and they were bad dreams that I

would forget.”


Jonathan Turner considered this response. He was not sure if the child thought he was

sleepwalking. If so, he would encourage this belief of nightmares so it was no longer an

issue.


“Yes, William, I would say it was nightmares, and you will be over it soon.”

Jonathan Turner knew he was safe. Thank goodness for Anne.


Mrs Jennings gently tapped him on the shoulder and beckoned him. Jonathan followed but

turned and took one last look at his son. William also looked up and gazed straight into his

father’s eyes - displaying a knowing well beyond his years. Jonathan Turner knew, at that

moment, William saw everything.


He turned and went without saying a word.


“The chimney sweep, Mr Jack Slope, is demanding a meeting with you, Mr Turner, about the

pay for his work. He says he won’t send his boys up the chimneys until you see him and


settle it.” Mrs Jennings would usually manage these things without him, but Slope was

angling for more money today, and Mrs Jennings was a bit rattled by the morning events.

Jonathan mused - Slope knew the rates were the same as at his business. Damn, the man,

for the trouble he was causing!


“Come, Mrs Jennings – let us see Jack Slope and solve his problem.”


William peered around the corner, making sure the coast was clear. His father was

downstairs, meaning William was free for a while. He loved watching the chimney sweeps do

their job. Some of the boys were younger than him but could crawl up amazingly thin

chimneys and clean them quickly. Watching Mrs Jennings curse about all the soot coming

down and out over the floors was also fun.


A loud conversation occurred in the kitchen, where his father gave the chimney sweep, Jack

Slope, a good roasting. Quietly, William crept along the hallway, stopping at the stairwell

window to see his father walking down the path. Hopefully, it would be soon before the

chimney sweeps started work.