Scarlet Runner

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Scarlet Runner Page 4

by Lily Ennis


  He set Thomas down and popped the lump of coal in the firebox. He wasn’t pleased with letting Mary down but his mind kept returning to the meeting with the union officials. He was hungry to be involved. Suddenly life became more than just putting food on the table.

  * * *

  At seven thirty the next morning Mary still had not arrived for work. Archie became convinced that she wouldn’t show. He had to get the children’s breakfast as well as his own, not to mention get them dressed, make his lunch and clean out the firebox and set the fire afresh. As he did all this he wondered if he paid Mary enough and realised he probably didn’t.

  At last he heard the latch trip on the front door and in walked Mary.

  ‘Miss Bell,’ he blurted out before she had a chance to strip him down. ‘Miss Bell, I must apologise for last night. I took you for granted and that is unforgiveable.’

  Mary walked through to the kitchen and grabbed her pinny from behind the door. She seemed to be biting her lip. Archie could tell she was still angry.

  ‘Mr. Wright,’ she said. ‘If your lateness was a matter of business or an accident I might be more forgiving.’ She tied the apron strings behind then back again tying off at her waist. ‘but don’t think I couldn’t tell you’d been drinking.’

  Archie smiled imperceptibly hoping she didn’t notice.

  ‘I see,’ he said. ‘I was at a union meeting discussing what needs to be done about mine safety.’

  Mary’s face softened and Archie sensed he’d said the right thing. Her grief for Charlie was still raw.

  ‘And what can be done? What can you do Mr. Wright?’

  ‘I’m getting to grips with this country’s legislation and labour laws,’ he replied. ‘It seems workers have had their rights stripped away by Liberal Government legislation.’ Archie became animated, seemingly forgetting that he and Mary were in the middle of an argument. ‘The Federation of Labour is aware of this. I need to understand how the different organisations fit together. Ian McCardie tells me that striking is only an option to unions registered under the Trade Union Act. So why hasn’t the Waihi Trade Union of Workers deregistered from the old Act and reregistered under that Act?’

  Mary washed and dried her hands at the sink. ‘How is striking going to help your cause? Do you think the company will compensate for a man’s injury or pay out a widow upon a man’s death as well as throw money at maintenance crews, especially when the profits are siphoned off to the greedy owners.’

  ‘A man has only his labour to sell,’ Archie explained. ‘A lone voice will achieve nothing but if a thousand voices stand for the same thing that one man is stronger. For an injury to one is an injury to all.’

  Mary nodded. ‘I see.’

  Archie thought Mary wanted to be more conciliatory but she held her mouth firm, not forgetting that she was mad at him.

  ‘I am one worker,’ she finally said. ‘I have only one voice. If I strike because you have treated me unfairly, say for example, I work overtime without agreeing to, you will simply replace me.’

  ‘But if you belonged to a union and after all bargaining options were exhausted, you called your colleagues to strike you would likely win,’ Archie replied.

  ‘I wish you luck, Mr. Wright,’ Mary said. ‘I really do.’

  Archie was reluctant to leave. ‘I am sorry for last night. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘Then I won’t be late either,’ she announced with finality. ‘Get yourself off to work. You’ve left me a mess bigger than a circus to clean up.’

  Chapter Five

  William supped on his whisky enjoying the late afternoon sun on the front verandah. Calm settled over the town. Sunday was the only day the mines didn’t operate. For one day a week the townsfolk weren’t constantly reminded of their bond to the mine with its constant blasting and ore trucks rattling up and down the main street. Even the workers constructing the power transmission line from Horahora to the Waihi Goldmining Company had today off. The only sounds William could hear were the laughs and shrieks of the neighbourhood children, including his own, playing in the school grounds.

  He had open the second edition of the Maoriland Worker. As vice president of the Federation of Labour, William was aware of the magazine’s beginnings. The Shearers’ and Miners’ Unions had started it as their mouthpiece and when the Federation formed it was eager to take it over.

  Already some miners and Liberal supporters were calling members Red Feds. Some thought the Federation was too militant and too closely aligned with the Wobblies. That didn’t deter William. In fact it suited his sense of urgency. He already felt as though he was on borrowed time. So many of his friends had succumbed to the miners’ complaint and not seen thirty five.

  The periodical explained the plight of the worker under the Liberal Government’s Industrial Conciliation and Arbitration Act: disputes had to be taken to specially formed conciliation boards and arbitration courts. The system failed to increase wages indexed to the cost of living. It didn’t compel employers to pay for all the hours an employee worked and it allowed employers to employ workers at less than agreed rates. Prior to 1905 there were so many unions trying to negotiate that it could be up to a year before they were heard. That year the Act was amended, making strikes and lockouts illegal where the parties were already negotiating and then a further amendment in 1907 increased the penalties for striking illegally. In 1908 the Trade Union Act allowed unions to withdraw from the Arbitration Act and register under the Trade Union Act.

  William idly gazed across to the playing fields where the apple trees were just beginning to sprout new leaves. There was nothing in what he read that didn’t make sense. It was weeks since Buster’s accident and they hadn’t made any headway.

  His thoughts turned to Archie. What made the man side so fiercely with the worker when he’d been a mine manager for more years than anything else? William’s suspicious mind asserted it was a case of know your enemy: that is, when Archie worked as a manager it was his job to keep abreast of legislation and get the feel for any discontentment below ground. Had the worm turned?

  As the sun sank lower in the sky William smelt the coal fires of the neighbours. But he was determined to finish reading under the natural light of day. It was too early to go inside and light a candle, even a company one.

  There were contributions from miners who articulated their concerns in prose, and advertisements from unions congratulating the Federation on the launch of the Maoriland Worker. Towards the back the Wobblies displayed its charter.

  In his mind’s eye William saw Sarah smile at him, at his reading. Sarah loved reading, but not him. Sarah couldn’t even get him to read the newspaper, but now, he had such a reason to read, to be a part of the revolution. Sarah would be so proud of him for that.

  William made a mental note to encourage Archie to write something for the magazine then in the fading light called it a day and went inside.

  * * *

  Archie soaked up the last of the gravy with mashed potato and politely dabbed at the corners of his mouth with the white linen cloth.

  ‘There’s plenty more, Archie,’ Sybil cooed. ‘Unless you’re saving yourself for dessert,’ she added with more than a touch of double entendre. She looked opposite Archie at her niece Elizabeth who demurely lowered her glance.

  Elizabeth was Sybil’s approved future wife of Archie Wright. She’d come down from Auckland to assist Sybil with the children in the school holidays, having stayed a few nights in the mineral spa town of Te Aroha. Archie found Elizabeth attractive enough; her dark hair pulled into a cloud around her face, small red lips and deep chocolate eyes. She had the graces of a debutante. She just wasn’t very interesting. She smiled in all the right places, laughed when appropriate and agreed with everything Archie said.

  That would never do. Ann had an opinion on most things. It was that he was most attracted to. That, and her magnificent mane of blonde hair that hung down to her waist and whipped his face when they made lo
ve.

  Archie forced a smile. ‘Is it apple crumble I can smell?’

  Fanny, Elsie and Beth clapped their hands at the mention of apple crumble and Archie and Joe echoed the same response: ‘You’ll have to finish your vegetables first,’ to which all three crinkled up their noses.

  It was weeks since Archie had promised to pump Joe for the true position of the company and Joe had been a harder nut to crack than he imagined. Added to that Sybil was always keen to shut down shop talk while she had a guest staying, which was often.

  ‘It was striking the Ten Guinea Cross Cut that put us under pressure,’ Joe took up the conversation again. ‘It was a good time to be mining, that’s for sure. I don’t think we’ll ever again see a yield like we did then. The share price sky rocketed.’

  ‘Did you buy any?’ asked Archie.

  Joe grimaced. ‘I did, aye. They went from half a crown to ten pounds.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘I should have sold them the minute they started falling,’ Joe replied. ‘But you don’t do you? You hold on and cross your fingers it’ll recover. But it didn’t.’

  Sybil cleared her throat. ‘Now Joseph, Elizabeth doesn’t want to hear your business talk.’

  Archie had had enough. He leapt to his feet. ‘Then Joe and I will talk in the lounge.’

  He strode out of the room leaving Joe to meekly follow. Sybil was outraged, her face flushing to the tips of her ears.

  ‘Well I never!’ she exclaimed.

  Joe lit both men a pipe and handed one to Archie. ‘That was a bit rough, Arch.’

  Archie took a couple of puffs. ‘I’m not a puppet for her pleasure. Look, I don’t mind if she’s got you by the balls. You might like it for all I care. But she’s not the maker of my life.’

  He stood on the hearth staring into the blazing fire. Where does she get these blasted women? I don’t want one. And, if and when I do, I’ll choose my own.’

  He turned to face Joe. ‘You realise she’s a dreadful snob? A spoiled snob. Was she spoiled before you met her Joe or after? Her whole life revolves around your company status. Try saying no to her sometime Joe and see what happens.’

  ‘Is that it?’ asked Joe calmly.

  Archie turned back to the fire. He let its warmth calm him and smiled wryly at Joe.

  ‘Well I could hardly say that to Sybil now could I? Sorry for speaking out of turn.’

  Joe sat in the fireside chair sucking the end of the pipe, seemingly digesting Archie’s words. It was a revelation to him that an outsider should judge their marriage so. If that’s what Archie saw, that’s what everyone saw. Of course Sybil hadn’t worked a day in her life; not for money. Her duty was to her family. She was a caring mother to their children and a wife Joseph could be proud of. Beyond that she was a woman of some standing in the town.

  ‘Look, Joe,’ Archie continued in a conciliatory tone. ‘I know I can trust you not to speak freely.’ He inhaled deeply on the pipe as he assessed Joe’s surprise. ‘The union is sitting on its hands over this latest accident. Unions up and down the country don’t know which way is up at the moment. We’re hesitant to enter negotiations for fear we end up deadlocked where the only way forward would be to strike.’

  Joe nodded. ‘What will they ask for?’

  ‘Buster’s compensation and all the down time from the men in the cage who had to have time off as well as the two hours pay for the hundred men who couldn’t start their shift on time.’

  Archie stared hard at Joe.

  ‘That’s only the start,’ Archie continued. ‘We’ve got to make it a safer mine to work in Joe. You know how often men are hurt, maimed and killed. For what? A miserable two pounds eight shillings, barely enough to feed and clothe a family. That’s something your wife should be fighting for. There’s thousands of men in mines in this town putting their life on the line every day for less than half what you bring home.’

  ‘You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,’ Joe agreed. ‘I can tell you that negotiations would be protracted. There just isn’t enough money to meet all those demands.’

  At last Archie heard it from the horse’s mouth. ‘Some of them?’

  Joe toyed with the end of his moustache and slowly shook his head. ‘The men in the accident won’t get compensation. It would set a financially irresponsible precedent. The equipment could be checked over and a cost estimate done.’

  It wasn’t what Archie wanted to hear but it was exactly what he expected. Joe was on a roll so Archie pressed on.

  ‘What do you know about the company paying the gangs different contract rates?’ he asked.

  Joe was shocked. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why do they do it?’

  ‘It’s a free market Archie. It’s up to the contractor to negotiate the best rate he can.’

  ‘More like a divide and rule tactic Joe,’ Archie replied angrily. ‘Lone voices don’t make waves.’

  ‘And if all the contractors held out together for the same rate the company could be screwed to the wall Arch. Isn’t it better that the company keeps employing?’

  Archie shook his head. ‘But Joe! Employed to risk their lives for barely enough money to feed their families: my family!’

  Joe looked shocked.

  ‘Yes man,’ Archie hissed. ‘Engine drivers don’t fare any better and we’re under contract rates too so some are on more than me, some less no doubt.’

  Joe shifted uneasily in his chair. ‘I didn’t realise you were short, Arch. I can give you a loan.’

  ‘Oh Joe! That’s the last thing I want! You’ve just shown me that you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said.’

  Before Joe could reply Darcy entered the room. ‘Mum says you’re to come for your apple crumble then after that I’m to give a recital.’

  His monotonous tone suggested he wasn’t thrilled with the prospect.

  Joe thanked the boy. ‘Tell your mother we’ll be there in a minute.’

  He vacated his seat smiling broadly before joining the ladies. ‘I appreciate your frankness Archie. Let’s not let this come between us.’

  * * *

  William stamped out his cigarette before entering the carpenter’s workshop where Ian, Floyd and Archie waited. They were joined this time by Garrick Binnie who had gained an interest in the union since the cage incident.

  William tossed the Maoriland Worker on the table. Ian was the first to pick it up. He quickly scanned each page then broke into a smile. He tapped the page.

  ‘That’s mine,’ he said.

  William grabbed the page and stared at the article. ‘You’re Rufus Bandwork?’ he asked smiling broadly.

  ‘That’s me.’

  ‘It’s a good piece,’ William offered. ‘Why’d you keep quiet about it?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure they print it,’ Ian replied. ‘Isabelle had a hand in it.’

  William and Ian explained the publication to the others.

  ‘It’s our mouthpiece boys,’ said Ian. ‘I urge you all to read it, and to contribute.’ He looked hard at Garrick. ‘Even you.’

  Garrick broke into a mischievous smile. ‘Gimme a break.’

  Floyd was keen to start. ‘How did you get on Arch?’

  ‘It’s worse than we thought,’ Archie began. ‘I fear the company has nothing to offer. That’s not to say that it categorically has no money but the situation is this. Before we struck the Ten Guinea Cross Cut the company shares were half a crown. As soon as the yield increased to ten guineas of bullion to the ton those figures were sent to England as if it was sustainable and the shares sky rocketed to ten pounds. That increased the value of the company but if the gold runs out or the yield decreases the value of the company will plummet. If it goes broke and has to sell the company will still have to pay a percentage to the shareholders.’

  The men silently assessed each others’ faces. Archie continued.

  ‘Don’t worry. The company’s not broke and it won’t help scaremongering the work force so kee
p it under your hats. The point is, the company did get a huge injection of capital and as you know the yield today isn’t what it was last year.’

  Garrick summarised. ‘So, the company is sitting on a fortune.’

  William agreed. ‘Hard to see that it’s not.’

  ‘So shouldn’t we bargain for our demands sooner rather than later?’ asked Floyd.

  Archie leaned back in his chair. ‘I can see how attractive that is to you,’ he said to Floyd. ‘But Joe was adamant that right now it’s all the company can do just to pay wages.’

  The men’s faces grew tight and Archie felt their mistrust. He held up a hand before they could protest. ‘He felt perhaps money could be freed up for equipment maintenance but that’s all. The company is reluctant to go down the compensation route. It would set a precedent for every union in the country.’

  Archie got up to leave pocketing the magazine. ‘I’ll leave you with that information, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Our next meeting can address the next step.’ He sighed. ‘Know your enemy eh?’

  * * *

  Archie sucked in the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread. He hooked his hat on the hall stand and was hijacked straight away by Fanny.

  ‘How’s my little pony?’ he said as he hoisted her into his arms.

  ‘I got a new wibbon,’ she said touching the giant yellow sash in her hair.

  ‘Yes you have. Who gave it to you?’ He knew it would have come from Sybil. He didn’t know why he should feel so insulted. A man should be able to buy his own daughter a ribbon for her hair. The fact was he just didn’t think of it. Besides, when could he shop for anything? On his only day off the shops were shut.

  ‘Sybil.’ It was Mary who answered and she spoke tersely.

  ‘Ah.’ Archie sucked in his breath as he nodded. It was a quick double nod that had become familiar to Mary.

  Mary took off her apron. ‘I believe she has a second cousin for you to look over on Sunday.’

  Archie’s heart sank but he made light of it. ‘I do believe Sybil is trying to make you redundant, Miss Bell.’

 

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