Chapter Five: ‘The Cottage’
The third time that the couple visited the cottage, was the first and only time that Margaret and Jerry had sex. While she’d naturally expected him to come on to her, she’d always previously been able to restrain him to heavy petting and a bit of French kissing. Were she to make this marriage catch, she needed to play clever and allow herself to act as sexual bait without getting caught herself. In many ways, Margaret had been naïve enough to think that the Squire’s son would be patient enough to wait until his wedding night before seeking full consummation.
Margaret couldn’t have been more wrong about the true intentions of Jerry Swales. The Squire’s son never intended to marry anyone as common as Margaret, however attractive a young woman she was. Neither had he ever contemplated letting his parents know that he was seeing a Portlaw woman.
Jerry considered that he’d waited long enough to play his cards. As a gambling man, he reckoned that he'd put too much in the kitty to come away empty handed. He was determined that tonight when they entered the cottage and he spread the rug in front of the fire, he would have all he wanted. He’d invested over four months of his time patiently grooming Margaret for this moment and he didn’t intend to wait a moment longer for the pay out!
Jerry considered that he’d waited long enough to play his cards. As a gambling man, he reckoned that he'd put too much in the kitty to come away empty handed. He was determined that tonight when they entered the cottage and he spread the rug in front of the fire, he would have all he wanted. He’d invested over four months of his time patiently grooming Margaret for this moment and he didn’t intend to wait a moment longer for the pay out!
After a bit of serious foreplay, Margaret received confirmation of his intentions when she felt his hardened resolve poke her in her groin as they closely embraced. As he pressed himself on her, Jerry’s heavy breathing and the forceful way he held her arms signalled the rigidity of his determination.
Margaret started to feel distinctly uncomfortable and tried to pull away. Jerry’s mood quickly changed; his mannerisms towards her became more demanding and aggressive. Though she resisted both physically and verbally, he lifted her skirt in a sexual frenzy and yanked down her knickers. Margaret protested “No! Jerry. No! Not now! Not like this!”
Having been aroused, however, and given the four-months’ attention he’d spent on her, Jerry had no intention of taking her ‘No’ as signifying anything other than a virgin’s protest who was frightened of ‘first blood’ being spilled.
Margaret started to feel distinctly uncomfortable and tried to pull away. Jerry’s mood quickly changed; his mannerisms towards her became more demanding and aggressive. Though she resisted both physically and verbally, he lifted her skirt in a sexual frenzy and yanked down her knickers. Margaret protested “No! Jerry. No! Not now! Not like this!”
Having been aroused, however, and given the four-months’ attention he’d spent on her, Jerry had no intention of taking her ‘No’ as signifying anything other than a virgin’s protest who was frightened of ‘first blood’ being spilled.
Within minutes he was inside her, thrusting away forcefully as one of his bulls might when mounting a cow on heat. His look was one of wildness throughout. Though Margaret continued to plead loudly for him to stop, he ignored her. He forcefully turned her over so that she now lay on her stomach and mounted her from the rear. As he fully discharged himself into her, he muffled her screams with a hand tightly covering her mouth. Margaret gagged and felt sick to the stomach with the violation of her body.
Afterwards, she lay there on the floor stunned out of her senses. Her legs and thighs ached. All her private parts were heavily bruised and blood stained. She felt soiled.
Jerry, on the other hand, acted as though nothing untoward had happened as he pulled up his trousers and remarked, “That was nice, Margaret…oh, so good. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
Afterwards, she lay there on the floor stunned out of her senses. Her legs and thighs ached. All her private parts were heavily bruised and blood stained. She felt soiled.
Jerry, on the other hand, acted as though nothing untoward had happened as he pulled up his trousers and remarked, “That was nice, Margaret…oh, so good. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
Margaret quickly rearranged her clothes and left the dwelling in tears. She refused to allow him to take her back to the village boundary and ran home alone instead. As she left the cottage, Jerry Swales acted as though nothing untoward had just happened and said, “Shall I see you again this coming Thursday, Margaret, as usual?”
Margaret stared at him and yelled in reply, “No, you won’t, you bastard. You’ll never see me close enough again to lay your faking hands on me!”
Margaret stared at him and yelled in reply, “No, you won’t, you bastard. You’ll never see me close enough again to lay your faking hands on me!”
~~~~~
When Margaret eventually got home that night it was almost 11.00 pm. She ran non-stop down into the village of Portlaw with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Although Margaret was a 24-year-old woman, her mother could never settle until she was safely back inside the house. Margaret entered the house highly distressed and ignored her mother’s comments as she quickly made her excuses and hurried to the bathroom.
Once there she ran herself a cold shower and started to scrub her body over and over. She felt dirty! She wanted to rid herself of all stench of the animal who’d raped her. She wanted to wash out the cancerous seed he’d placed inside her, but however hard she scrubbed her skin, she couldn’t feel clean. She sat on the floor and burst into tears.
Although Margaret was a 24-year-old woman, her mother could never settle until she was safely back inside the house. Margaret entered the house highly distressed and ignored her mother’s comments as she quickly made her excuses and hurried to the bathroom.
Once there she ran herself a cold shower and started to scrub her body over and over. She felt dirty! She wanted to rid herself of all stench of the animal who’d raped her. She wanted to wash out the cancerous seed he’d placed inside her, but however hard she scrubbed her skin, she couldn’t feel clean. She sat on the floor and burst into tears.
Her mother, sensing something was seriously wrong, followed Margaret upstairs and heard her sobbing uncontrollably inside the bathroom. After eventually persuading her daughter to open the door, she noticed the bruising around her thighs and pressed her to reveal who had caused her such distress. Margaret broke into another flood of tears as she said repeatedly, “He wouldn’t stop, Mammy! He just wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer!”
After a pause, Margaret blurted out, “That bastard, Jerry Swales …… he raped me, Mammy. He wouldn’t let me out of the cottage until he’d had all he wanted!”
After a few more tears, Margaret said, “He didn’t even blink an eyelid afterwards, Mammy. It was as though it was his right to take me against my will. He treated me just like some servant girl who was there to please him; like some cow of his waiting to be serviced!”
Margaret’s mother was furious and instantly told her husband what had happened as soon as she came back down stairs. Margaret couldn’t face her father, so she made her excuses to her mother before going to her bedroom for the night and locking her door.
After a few more tears, Margaret said, “He didn’t even blink an eyelid afterwards, Mammy. It was as though it was his right to take me against my will. He treated me just like some servant girl who was there to please him; like some cow of his waiting to be serviced!”
Margaret’s mother was furious and instantly told her husband what had happened as soon as she came back down stairs. Margaret couldn’t face her father, so she made her excuses to her mother before going to her bedroom for the night and locking her door.
~~~~~
When Margaret’s dad discovered what the Squire’s son had done to his daughter, he went wild. Within minutes, he’d donned his hat and coat and steamed off towards the Manor on the edge of Curraghmore Common. He was determined to do harm to the violator of his oldest daughter.
Roger Poole arrived at the ‘Manor House’, knocked loudly on the front door, and once opened, he pushed his way passed the servant’s protests and made for the main room; bursting into the room in a rage.
Both the Squire and Mrs Swales were drinking their late evening glass of sherry as Margaret’s father angrily yelled, “Where is he? Where’s that son of yours who raped my daughter as though she was someone of low birth to be taken against her will?”
Roger Poole arrived at the ‘Manor House’, knocked loudly on the front door, and once opened, he pushed his way passed the servant’s protests and made for the main room; bursting into the room in a rage.
Both the Squire and Mrs Swales were drinking their late evening glass of sherry as Margaret’s father angrily yelled, “Where is he? Where’s that son of yours who raped my daughter as though she was someone of low birth to be taken against her will?”
Looking astounded at the unseemly manner of forced entry into their home, Squire Swales said loudly, “How dare you? Just who do you think you are, bursting into our home without invitation, and unannounced? I don’t know what you’re about, my man, but if you don’t vacate my home instantly, I’ll set the dogs on you!”
With this threat, Margaret’s father, who always carried his favourite stick that he’d Christened ‘Knobbler’ everywhere with him, waved the shillelagh in the air and yelled, “Set your hounds on me and they’ll not see the light of day again, I’ll wager!”
With this threat, Margaret’s father, who always carried his favourite stick that he’d Christened ‘Knobbler’ everywhere with him, waved the shillelagh in the air and yelled, “Set your hounds on me and they’ll not see the light of day again, I’ll wager!”
At that moment, Squire Swales vaguely recognised his unwelcomed house guest and asked, “Aren’t you the hired hand who works on one of my tenant’s farms? You work for Fred Grant, don’t you? Well, you can forget showing up for work ever again after I’ve instructed Fred to dismiss you instantly; that is if he’s a mind to keep his tenancy of the farm!”
“Keep your faking job,” Roger replied, “and you can tell that son of yours to expect a visit from the Garda after I’ve reported his rape. Even you and your kind aren’t above the common law of the land!”
Roger Poole then stomped out of the Manor and made his way home, where he phoned the Waterford Garda to inform them of the offence against his daughter.
Roger’s departing words to Squire Swales was to warn him that he and his high and mighty kind weren’t above the law, but the truth was, as he'd later discover; they were!
“Keep your faking job,” Roger replied, “and you can tell that son of yours to expect a visit from the Garda after I’ve reported his rape. Even you and your kind aren’t above the common law of the land!”
Roger Poole then stomped out of the Manor and made his way home, where he phoned the Waterford Garda to inform them of the offence against his daughter.
Roger’s departing words to Squire Swales was to warn him that he and his high and mighty kind weren’t above the law, but the truth was, as he'd later discover; they were!
~~~~~
Even though Jerry Swales was reported for rape the morning after when the Garda could be contacted, no prosecution followed. With consent of both parties being alleged by the Squire’s son and a history of a clandestine courtship acknowledged between the couple over the previous four months, the mere time, place, and circumstances where sex had occurred, along with the fact that Margaret had entered the cottage willingly late at night, essentially made her accusation less believable.
Margaret had washed away the evidence that sex had occurred in her bid to cleanse herself of his stench of victory; even though sex having happened was never denied by Jerry. When the Garda eventually confronted Jerry Swales about the heavy bruising to Margaret’s thighs and genital area, the Squire’s son merely made some vague remark about Portlaw women liking it rougher than the maidens from farther north!
Margaret had washed away the evidence that sex had occurred in her bid to cleanse herself of his stench of victory; even though sex having happened was never denied by Jerry. When the Garda eventually confronted Jerry Swales about the heavy bruising to Margaret’s thighs and genital area, the Squire’s son merely made some vague remark about Portlaw women liking it rougher than the maidens from farther north!
After interviewing Margaret, the Garda eventually decided to take the matter no farther. Margaret’s parents were so incensed with the law’s reluctance to prosecute the Squire’s son, her father considered the only other option; a private prosecution. They sought out a Waterford solicitor who advised Margaret and her parents that there would be no prospect of success in pursuing the matter. He added that if they did, Margaret would only end up being dragged through court and having her name and the name of her family besmirched.
“Neither you nor family will ever be able to hold up your heads in Portlaw again, Margaret,” their solicitor told her, “once the news passes Waterford and enters the neighbouring counties of Kilkenny, Tipperary and Wexford. Besides, the cost of a private prosecution would be exorbitant and could involve the forfeiture of all you have. If you lost, you’d be compelled to sell the family home to pay our fees and court cost!”
“Neither you nor family will ever be able to hold up your heads in Portlaw again, Margaret,” their solicitor told her, “once the news passes Waterford and enters the neighbouring counties of Kilkenny, Tipperary and Wexford. Besides, the cost of a private prosecution would be exorbitant and could involve the forfeiture of all you have. If you lost, you’d be compelled to sell the family home to pay our fees and court cost!”
Margaret and her mother saw sense in their solicitor’s advice and decided to drop the matter, although her father was still too proud and angry to concede the prudence of such a course. He muttered angrily, “There’s still too much faking injustice in this land when a young woman can be taken against her will and without her consent!”
“It’s a matter of believable circumstances, Mr Poole,” the solicitor replied; seeking in vain to pacify the wrath of Roger Poole.
“Although the burden of proof required in a private prosecution is less than that demanded in a public one,” the solicitor concluded, “in the absence of independent evidence being there to substantiate Margaret’s account, there is no chance of a private prosecution being successful!”
“It’s a matter of believable circumstances, Mr Poole,” the solicitor replied; seeking in vain to pacify the wrath of Roger Poole.
“Although the burden of proof required in a private prosecution is less than that demanded in a public one,” the solicitor concluded, “in the absence of independent evidence being there to substantiate Margaret’s account, there is no chance of a private prosecution being successful!”
Over the weeks ahead, though the family tried to keep the matter secret from the wagging tongues of the Portlaw gossips, one of the Garda let the initial complaint slip to a fellow drinker in Waterford. He, in turn, had a sister who lived in Portlaw. Once she learned of the situation, she quickly passed it from house to house. Within days of the Garda having been called in, Margaret Poole was the source of common gossip and exaggerated rumour in Portlaw pubs and meeting places.
Within a week of the initial complaint having been made to the Garda, the whole of Portlaw and most of County Kilkenny knew that Jerry Swales had enjoyed his wicked way with Margaret Poole. The preferred conclusion rapidly arrived at by the citizens of Portlaw once they discovered there was no case being prosecuted in the court, was that sex had occurred between the couple with her consent and that her knickers had been lowered without protest.
The consensus was that Margaret Poole had allowed herself to be driven around in Jerry Swales’ fancy sports car for months, thinking herself grander than all the other single women in Portlaw as she planned to become the next ‘Lady of the Manor’. It was rumoured that she’d taken his gifts, drunk the spirits he’d bought her, enjoyed their lavish meals out, and then, after she’d willingly entered their love nest on the night in question, she lay down in front of the fire and spread her legs open for young Swales without any coaxing for them to be parted.
‘Just what did she expect would happen, the brazen hussy?’ was the consensus of Portlaw folk who held no great respect for the Squire’s son, and even less for Margaret Poole’s ‘shameful’ actions. As far as Portlaw folk were concerned, Maggie Poole had given herself to the Squire’s son in return for his lavish attention over their four months courtship and the mere asking.
~~~~~
Within the month, Margaret started looking for jobs away from Portlaw. She decided to look out for secretarial posts; preferably managerial office jobs. Unexpectedly, she happened to see the advertisement for a post to her liking in ‘The Munster Express’ for a job in Keighley, West Yorkshire.
She viewed the prospect of moving across the sea and providing herself with a new start as being much better than staying in Portlaw where her stained past would never be forgotten. Once a woman had lost her reputation in Portlaw, the hunger of the town’s gossip mongers eager for scandal to chew over until every scrap of meat had been digested, would never grant her peace again.
Margaret sensed the futility of trying to escape shame or keep some semblance of a good name if she stayed in the Emerald Isle a day longer than was necessary. It was with great relief therefore, when she learned she’d been offered the position of Personal Secretary in an English haulage firm; a post which she readily accepted.
She viewed the prospect of moving across the sea and providing herself with a new start as being much better than staying in Portlaw where her stained past would never be forgotten. Once a woman had lost her reputation in Portlaw, the hunger of the town’s gossip mongers eager for scandal to chew over until every scrap of meat had been digested, would never grant her peace again.
Margaret sensed the futility of trying to escape shame or keep some semblance of a good name if she stayed in the Emerald Isle a day longer than was necessary. It was with great relief therefore, when she learned she’d been offered the position of Personal Secretary in an English haulage firm; a post which she readily accepted.
