The deputy was now pointing out the pit props, which were no longer brown but white; and this was nothing, he was saying, to what they would see when they got into the mothergate. There, fungi as big as their hands grew on the props.
Ann ceased to listen to the deputy’s voice, nor was she interested in those things which were apparently peculiar to this mine, she was weighed down by the overpowering terribleness of it all; but when the party again stopped and the deputy suggested that to see just how dark the mine was they should cover up their lamps, a protest escaped her and she cried, ‘Eeh, no’; whereupon Maggie took the lamp from her hand and within a few minutes they were standing in darkness, the like of which she had never imagined possible—thick, heavy, clinging darkness, that hurt the eyeballs, that became alive and pressed on you.
‘Don’t speak for a minute,’ said the deputy.
Now silence was added…the darkness and silence of the eternity of the damned. It flashed through Ann’s brain that the roaring flames of hell would be preferable to this, for in hell there would be sound and colour; here there was nothing yet everything, everything that was needed to bring the dark terrors of the soul to the surface.
‘Oh no!’ Her own suppressed scream added to her terror. And as the lamps twinkled again, their small lights appearing brilliant in contrast to the blackness, she wanted to be sick. She turned to Maggie to make yet another protest, but her words and supplicating outstretched hand were checked, for Maggie was looking queer…white and sickly almost as if she were about to faint. She stood gaping at her for a moment; then strangely she began to draw comfort from her sister’s apparent weakness. She did not feel so alone in her fear now that a person of their Maggie’s stamina could be afraid.
She said, ‘What’s the matter? Are you bad?’
For a moment Maggie seemed to peer through her, then shook her head in a sort of bewildered fashion before walking on, and she, pressing her teeth down into her lip, followed, until the deputy ushered them through a low trapdoor and into a passage, then through a similar door and into the mothergate which led to the coalface.
Here it was even darker and the atmosphere was so moist and warm that the road they had just left was, in comparison, as cool as though it were swept by a sea breeze.
Stumbling along in the rear and bent almost double, Ann followed on the heels of Maggie.
‘All clear there?’ The deputy’s voice ricocheted from the walls.
And the answer came, ‘Aye, Peter, all clear and respectable.’
A laugh issued from a section where no light was showing, and it appeared as if the rock itself was speaking.
Ann, still on the outskirts of the group, saw a number of men in trunks and singlets. Even from a distance most of them looked shy and awkward. They continued with their work, just lifting their heads at intervals to take a peep at the visitors.
‘So this is where you get the coal?’ Miss Wentworth spoke to one of the men.
‘Some of it, missis.’
‘And how do you get it out? You actually pick it out?’
‘He don’t; a hard day’s work would kill him!’
The humorist, now discerned as a huddled heap doing something in the corner of the road, seemed to be the only member of the workers or party who was enjoying the situation.
‘Thoo better shut the gob. What do thoo say, dep?’ The man indicated his mate with a nod of his head but spoke to the deputy.
‘Divvent ask the impossible, Joe.’
Now the deputy was speaking in the same idiom as the men, and Miss Wentworth, looking from one to the other, made the embarrassing statement, ‘There’s no master and man; you work as a team, I suppose?’
There seemed to be a rustling of bodies. The deputy did not answer, and the man said, after a short while, ‘We’re all workers, miss, one way or another.’
‘But some are more other than owt else.’
‘Shut the gob, Joe.’ It was the deputy speaking now, and for answer the man in the corner began to chuckle.
‘Are they going to dig this coal out?’ Miss Wentworth pointed to the seam and looked at the men.
‘No. These are the stone men,’ said the deputy. ‘They are advancing the mothergate; they work with the pullers in there.’ He pointed to an opening to the side of their feet. It was not more than twenty-one inches high. ‘These are the backshift men who get ready for the nightshift and the cutters.’
As Miss Wentworth looked down at the opening she was made to exclaim, ‘Not in there, surely!’
‘Aye, surely,’ said the deputy, now feeling more himself that at last he had astonished this hard-boiled dame. ‘Get down and have a look. Get down on you…stomach.’
‘No, no. I can see all right from here.’
But now Ann, who had been standing on the outskirts of the groups, felt herself compelled to move forward. She must see the place, or a similar place to where her Davie, for nearly seven hours a day lay on his stomach or at best crouched and swung a pick as fast as his strength would allow him.
The deputy said, ‘That’s right, miss; you want to see?’ Ann bent down. In the gleam of the lamps she saw what she knew to be men, but who appeared like strange, contorted animals from another world. She knew what they were doing; they were pulling out the chocks to let the roof fall.
The light gleamed on a naked arm. She could see it clearly because the sweat running down it streaked it as it went.
The deputy shouted, ‘Hi, there, Michael!’ and the arm stopped and the body moved round on the ground, and a face showed, all teeth and eyes. It was joined by another, and the deputy shouted again, ‘I’ve three ladies here. Would you like them to come along?’
‘Aye. Oh, aye. This is the very place for them.’ The men laughed, and into Ann’s tortured mind a sense of pride and wonderment forced itself for a fraction of a second. These men working in the lilliputian halls of a living hell were still able to laugh. But the wonderment fled on the thought of her David. He lay like that every day, with nothing but those little pit props to hold up the roof, to keep the thousands of tons of rock from crushing him…a few inches of wood defying that mighty weight! It couldn’t do it, not all the time; it would give way; it would all give way; it could this very minute, now, while she was standing here! The fear for David became lost in the fear for herself…the place was closing in on her; she couldn’t breathe…‘My God! We’ll all be crushed to death; we’ll never get out!’ Even the whispered words spelt panic, and the deputy said, ‘What is it, miss?’
She turned to him and clung to his arm. ‘The place’ll fall in; I want to get out!’
She clasped one hand suddenly over her mouth, and the deputy said sternly, ‘Now, miss, take hold of yourself. It strikes me you should never have come down, but we’ll be going in just a minute. The men are showing the lady how a charge is set.’ He nodded towards Miss Wentworth.
A charge! An explosion! She knew what a charge was: a hole was made in the rock and the explosive put in, and then it blew up.
No power on earth, or under it, at that moment could have stayed her flight. With the fleetness of a stag she turned and ran up the roadway, skipping over the rocks, missing the roof beams as if by a succession of miracles.
The startled deputy shouted to the man who had been talking to Miss Wentworth, ‘Bring them along to the cage, Joe,’ as he set off after the fleeing figure. He didn’t call to her, but ran with practised ease over the boulders. Yet so swift was her flight that she almost reached the trapdoor before he overtook her.
‘Now, now!’ He caught hold of her arm and pulled her to a stop. ‘Steady on.’ He was breathing hard himself. ‘There’s no need to run like that.’
She stood swaying on her feet. ‘I want to get out.’ Her mouth was hanging loose and saliva was running over her lower lip.
‘You’ll get out; come on. Only go steady, else you’ll likely as not break your legs, and then you’ll be in a worse fix. You should never have come down. Hadn’t you any id
ea what it would be like?’
‘Yes…no. Well, not like this. I want to get out.’
‘There now, take it easy. You see, you are in the main road now and it won’t be long.’
They passed an old man, a solitary figure, standing as if he was part of the inanimate depth wherein he worked.
Without preliminary explanation the deputy said, ‘She shouldn’t have come down,’ and the old man answered ‘No, God fits the nerve to the need.’
They met no-one else until they reached the cage again, and there they saw Bert. He was waiting for the cage to descend, and he turned at their approach and asked with concern, ‘What’s up? Nowt happened, has there?’
‘A bit nervy,’ said the deputy tersely.
‘She should never have come down,’ said Bert. ‘I got the shock of me life when I saw her.’ He looked down on Ann. ‘These aren’t places for the likes of you. But there’s nowt to be frightened about, so stop that shivering.’ He put his arm firmly about her. ‘Come on now, stop it. And cheer up. It would be hard lines about your coal if we all felt like that, now wouldn’t it, eh? Why, lass, stop trembling; I’ve told you you’re all right. Here’s the cage. Come on, get in.’
He pushed her gently, and the deputy said, ‘Will I come up with you?’
‘No, I’ll see to her, Peter. She’s me sister-in-law, aren’t you?’ He put his arm about her. ‘She’s all right now.’
Crouched beside her, he hugged her to him, and she leaned against him, clutching at him.
As the cage moved upwards the light from above grew stronger, and she peered at the walls of the shaft, gathering to herself the rays of light…Oh, to be out in the light and the sun! The sun. To see the sun again. How many aeons of time had passed since she saw the sun!…and David. He didn’t see the sun or light for over seven hours of each day, and then in the winter when he came up it was dark…Darkness. For days and days, darkness. Oh, David!
The cage bumped to a standstill, and with Bert’s hand on her arm she stepped out on to the platform, and right to the feet of David!
Surprise at seeing him made her quite dumb, and fear of his displeasure, for a moment, stilled all her other fears. She gaped at him in a blank astonishment, for this was a David new to her. In all the years she had known him never had she seen him look like this. The coal dust of the pit still on him hid the anger that glowed in his face, but nothing could hide the fury in his eyes and the stretched tenseness of his body.
‘What the hell you been up to?’
He stood threateningly over her, and she gazed up at him, frightened now in a different way, for her David never swore at her.
‘For two pins I’d…’
His forearm lifted as if to bring the back of his hand across her face, and as she shrank from the threat Bert interposed: ‘Here, steady on a minute! There’s no need for that. You gone up the lum?’
‘You mind your own bloody business! I’ll see to you later…Get off home.’ He made a motion with his hand as if to sweep her through the air to the very door. But she was gone, running down the steps so quickly that the men on the edge of the platform held their breath until she reached the bottom.
‘Thoo’s a bloody fool, that’s what thoo are. A swollen-headed bloody fool!’
‘Who thoo calling a bloody fool, eh? I’ll let thoo see who’s a fool! Get the coat off!’
‘Here! Here!’ The men were gathering round. ‘Simmer doon, the pair of you. And you’d better get down to the ground, there’s the gaffer yonder.’
‘Gaffer or no gaffer,’ growled David, glaring at his brother, ‘I’ll take it out of your hide; you’ll not take any more women down when I’m finished with you…Did it to get one over me, didn’t you?’
‘What the hell you talking about?’ yelled Bert. They were going down the steps now, their glances clashing. ‘You’re barmy! I never took her down.’
‘Didn’t you? Don’t tell any damned lies. Thoo’s been wanting to get at me for a long time, and you knew she was scared and thought that was one way of doing it.’
‘You’re barmy. I tell you I didn’t take her down. Thoo’s up the pole. But thoo’s right; I have wanted to get at you for a long time and bash some of the coming deputy ideas out of that big heid of yours; and this is as good an excuse as any. I’ll see you in the quarry in half an hour.’ His face like thunder, Bert swung off to the lamp-house, while David stalked out of the pit yard towards home.
Long before he reached it the anger had begun to die in him and he felt ashamed, not because it had made him go for Bert, but because it had led him into almost striking Ann. Why in the name of God had he done that! Lifted his hand to her when all he wanted was to crush her in his arms. Why did the damned authorities allow women to go down the pit, anyway? It should be put a stop to. Her poor little face: she looked scared to the very marrow. And he had acted like a blasted unthinking fool.
The house was empty. He ran up the stairs, then down again, taking them three at a time now, and when he reached the back door George Rowan confronted him.
‘Where is she?’
‘With her mother. I’ve been for the doctor.’
‘Doctor? Why?’
‘She’s having hysterics or something. Look, Davie…did you hit her? I can’t believe you did but she keeps on saying…’
David lowered his head and said, ‘I nearly did. I was near mad. I had just come up and I met Bob Donelly, and he said she was down the Phoenix. He said he saw her with Bert, just before he came up.’ David screwed up his eyes and stared at his father-in-law, then went on, ‘Her going down a pit when she’s always on about it! And trying to get me to leave, in times like these an’ all! She’s petrified of the pit. And she wouldn’t have gone down unless she’d been persuaded; and our Bert’s the right one to persuade anybody when he takes it into his head. And it was done to get at me. And I was mad at her because she went.’ He rubbed his hand over his face. ‘I can’t explain it, but when I raised my hand it was with a sort of relief at seeing her safe again.’
‘Well, she’s your wife and I don’t want to interfere, but she’s still my lass, and I wouldn’t stand for anyone raising a hand to her. But I can guess how you felt right enough. Yet, if you ask me, it wasn’t Bert’s fault. I haven’t got to the bottom of it yet, but you know Maggie was with her?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Well, she was. And between you and me I guess there’s more in it than meets the eye. You can never tell with our Maggie. And there’s never been any love lost between her and Ann. No’—George looked away—‘there’s deep wells in that ’un.’
‘But why should she want to take her down the pit? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘On the face of it, no, but our Maggie always had her own way of working.’
George made to go, saying, ‘If I was you I’d leave Ann to her mother for a time; I’ve never seen her in such a stew before.’ He paused and rubbed his chin, and asked diffidently, ‘Has anything happened?’
‘You mean…?’ A redness appeared in David’s cheekbones. ‘Not that I know of.’
‘Well, I only thought. They don’t usually go haywire like that, even with going down the pit. Well, I’ll be seeing you.’
George walked away, and David stared after him, a feeling of panic now racing through his body. If she had fallen with a bairn and he had raised his hand to her!
He had dreamed lately what would happen when she told him. He saw himself fetching and carrying for her; not that she would want that kind of thing, but she would let him because she knew he would want to share in the burden of it. But it would be no burden to her, for she was quite crazy to start having bairns.
Mechanically he closed the door behind him and walked up the street and along the road towards the allotments, and as he neared them he saw Bert. And they met on the pathway and were forced to walk within yards of each other towards the quarry. And David suddenly thought: This is mad. Life’s mad. It’s all twisted. You are made to do things
you’d never dream of doing; I don’t really want to hit Bert no more than I wanted to hit her.
They passed through the spinney and clambered down the rocks, then threw their coats on the ground and faced each other.
If Christopher had been asked what he wanted most he would have answered unhesitatingly to work up a good custom in the shop. To be kept busy all day serving was now his idea of heaven, and although his dream was far from being realised, he had been elated with the events of this particular morning, for hadn’t young Stanley Pearson bought a new bike? With cash at that! He had landed a job in Newcastle and he aimed to ride there to save bus fares. His boss was paying for the bike, and he was going to pay him back. That was the kind of job to get. Smart lad, Stanley; no pit for him.
And that wasn’t all. He had also sold two second-hand bikes. They were only fifteen bob each, admitted, but he had not before sold two second-hand bikes in one day. Yes, it had been a good morning…Until one o’clock, until his mother had rushed in in a tear to say that Bert and Davie had been fighting in the quarry, and that Bert had had to go and have his eye stitched, while Davie’s mouth was so swollen and his face so battered he’d not see out of his eyes the morrer. And it was all because Davie thought Bert had taken Ann down the pit. And that was not all. Ann had run home to Nellie and had a dose of hysterics, and the doctor had to be fetched, and he gave her a good talking to. But that didn’t do any good, so he gave her an injection; and now she was asleep. And there was their Davie like somebody mad, tearing his hair and walking the floor. And George Rowan was just as bad, for he was blaming Maggie. Now wasn’t that a damn silly thing to do.
‘I want to be fair,’ his mother had said, nodding at him. ‘You know there’s no love lost between your Maggie and me—we’d get on best in two different countries—but as I said, likely she asked Ann to go down with her to have one of her own kind there instead of being alone with this visitor of Mrs Thornton’s. You know how it is with your own kind. But there’s George—he won’t listen to a word of it. You know he’s as stubborn as a mule and he’s got some daft silly idea into his head that your Maggie took Ann down on purpose, to give her these hysterics. You know, sometimes I think George Rowan hasn’t a ha’p’orth of sense. It’s as our Pat says, he’s a bit barmy where your Maggie’s concerned.’
Maggie Rowan Page 10
