by Emma Hornby
Daniel was pale and quiet on the journey he’d insisted they must make, and she didn’t question it, simply let him drowse, for it was what she knew he needed. Rest easy, she’d told him as they had lain beneath the tree’s snow-stroked branches. She did the same, closing her eyes, and the chug motion carried them closer to their final destination, which she’d been awaiting for what felt like for ever.
They alighted at Manchester Victoria Station and still she was silent, allowed Daniel to lead her into Miller Street and on to Swan Street without a word of protest. However, something niggled at the back of her brain, something she couldn’t reach to analyse at any depth but which was there all the same, and was growing in increasing insistence the further they walked.
Ebenezer Court.
She paused to peer at the scuffed sign. Daniel made to disappear through the archway, but she grasped at his jacket. This wasn’t right. How had they got here?
A terrible mistake had occurred somewhere along the way. A cruel and confusing wrong turn had snared them from the correct path. This wasn’t heaven. There was no Amos, no Nathan, beyond that entrance. Happiness lay not here, not for either of them. She must inform him, warn him of their folly. She must …
‘It’s all right, Laura.’
‘But …’
‘Everything’s going to be all right,’ he soothed, taking her hand. ‘It’s over, lass.’
Why wouldn’t he listen? They shouldn’t be here. ‘Daniel, wait. I must tell thee—’
‘Not now. All that can wait. Let’s just get inside.’
The courtyard was empty and they made it to Laura’s house without being seen. Daniel immediately collapsed into a fireside chair and scrunched shut his eyes, his mouth pursed in obvious pain.
‘Lad?’
‘I’m all right. Just … need to catch my breath.’
Frowning, Laura went to him. Stooping, she turned her attention to his left thigh, which he was gripping, his breathing heavy. ‘Let me see.’
‘I cauterised it the best I could after you’d gone, but … Jesus, it’s agony. I must have passed out a few times afore finally waking with thee under that tree.’
Watching him take down his dark trousers and push aside the muffler he’d tied tightly around his leg, she stared in sheer confusion at the bloodied, circular hole. Her thoughts were muggy and drifted from reach like smoke when she attempted to focus her brain on one. ‘What …? I don’t understand.’
Daniel sucked in air. ‘It’ll be the shock. Your mind’s likely shut itself off, to protect thee from the horrors of the day. Give yourself time. The memories will come back.’
His explanation was like the turning of a tap – the mist cleared from her head in an instant. She sat back on the hearth rug and pulled her knees to her chin. ‘We were in Bolton.’
‘Aye.’
‘I killed them, Daniel.’
He stared at her in silence and she nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘The Cannocks … It all happened so quickly. I kicked out, for one had the gun to my head, and he tumbled backwards into a quarry. He was holding on to the edge, and his brother rushed to haul him out, but … but they both went over and they’re dead. I just stood there and watched it unfold. I couldn’t help them. I didn’t want to. I hated them, still do. I’m a murderess.’
‘That’s why tha wanted to die?’
He’d spoken quietly. She glanced up to gauge his reaction but his face was expressionless. ‘I thought … I’m so tired of it all, you know? I’m just so tired. I miss those we’ve lost, and I know you do, too. We might have been happy, me and thee, had the frost carried us off—’
‘Nay.’ He was leaning forward, his eyes flashing steel. ‘Don’t you ever say that, d’you hear? Your father, our Nathan … their deaths ain’t your fault. Aye, the loss is a constant, physical pain now, but it’ll ease with time, Laura, it will. It’s happened, and nowt will fetch either of them back. Nowt,’ he pressed, placing his hands on her shoulders, and there was a catch in his voice. ‘We can’t cut short our lives over this. Where would the world be if folk gave up as easy as that? There would be no one left, that’s what. We ain’t the only souls to have known heartache.’
‘But lad, I killed them. And Adam, in a sense, aye. He died from my actions, an’ all. I lashed out with him and he fell, too. Today, I did it again with the same outcome – only this time, it’s resulted in two deaths. Three men. Three brothers – three, Daniel! – have perished at my hands. I’m a monster!’
‘Nay. Tha meant not for it to happen. They all came at thee – you were protecting yourself. Self-defence, aye, that’s what it was. It were them or thee.’
‘It don’t change a thing in here, though,’ she choked, stabbing at her temple with her finger. ‘The guilt, recrimination, disgust, is here still. And you’d be the same if this were you we were discussing,’ she added in a knowing tone. ‘I saw how you felt when you believed yourself a murderer – you hated yourself forra while in t’ bedroom of that cottage, didn’t you?’
He looked away. ‘That’s different. I knew exactly what I were doing back there. I purposely put that knife to his throat. I wanted him dead.’
‘Then you changed your mind. Well, didn’t you!’
‘Aye.’ He dragged a hand across his mouth. ‘Aye, all right, I did.’
‘So you see? How am I meant to live with the truth of it, of what I’ve done? You answer me that.’
‘I did regret it,’ he continued in a murmur, as though he hadn’t heard her. ‘And shall I tell thee for why? Because I don’t have it in me to be wicked, Laura. And neither do you. That’s why the cut you inflicted to the other bloke’s neck barely nicked the surface. You couldn’t do it, neither. Not really, not well enough to end life, however much your hatred of them or how much you were hurting. That they died later anyroad is neither here nor there. You didn’t mean it. D’you see the difference?’
Blinking as his words took effect – he was right; she hadn’t actively wanted to kill anyone, had she? – she nodded. ‘I thought I did want them dead but … Good God, lad, I never actually wanted to kill anyone …’ She groaned in confusion. ‘Does that make sense?’
‘It does to me. D’you know, lass, if anything, you should be proud.’
‘Proud?’
‘Aye, for you’re a hero. My hero.’ Eyes bright, he took her face in his hands. ‘You saved my life.’
‘Oh, lad. Oh, it’s been horrible, horrible!’ The flood gates finally opened and she crumpled. ‘Will I ever get past this?’ she sobbed, putting her arms around him. He held her back tightly and she clung to him. ‘I just want to put it all behind me. I just want to forget.’
‘You shall. But you must let yourself let it go, Laura. You’ll never be free of the past if you don’t.’
And that goes for you, my love, her heart whispered to him. I have to let you go, too, must if I’m ever to hope for a fresh start. You don’t belong to me, never have. If either of us are to have a future, I must set myself free.
The vow brought an odd sense of calm to her mind. Savouring his touch, for it would have to last her a lifetime, she held on to him a few precious moments longer then rose to her feet.
She crossed to the corner and the coffin holding her husband, kissed her fingertips and pressed them to his marble cheek. Then she turned back to his brother with renewed focus. The future started here.
‘Right, lad, we’d best get that leg seen to. I’ll fetch Widow Jessop. She’ll know what to do.’
There wouldn’t be any comebacks from today’s events. They were all confident of that.
No witnesses meant no investigation, and dead men didn’t speak, the court’s residents had pointed out later, when Laura and Daniel brought the whole story to light.
Crammed into Mrs Price’s kitchen, they had discussed it at length whilst Daniel rested by the fire, the bullet safely removed and the wound cleaned and stitched up neatly by the herb woman’s expert hand.
Dolly Cann
ock had seen nothing and, thanks to the laudanum, would remember less. Any possible sightings of them arriving at or leaving the cottage in Breightmet would yield no results. Daniel was an unknown out-of-towner. As for Laura … well, she hadn’t been there as herself, had she? Should the authorities get a whiff of a suspect, they would be on the look-out for a young man, thanks to her working clothes, not her. They were in the clear.
Moreover, everyone was in full agreement that the deaths had been unavoidable. Besides, the brothers had got all they deserved, the neighbours insisted vehemently, after the evil they had wreaked on Amos and Nathan. They might have been spared the gibbet for all they had done but they couldn’t escape punishment altogether.
Their unshakeable support meant more to Laura than she could ever express. She was one of their own, she belonged, and they would always have her back. Now more than ever, she reciprocated their loyalty tenfold and knew she always would.
‘We’ll pay a visit to Bolton in a day or two, see how the land lies,’ the two Johns had offered. ‘If nowt else, it’ll put your minds at ease. We’ll be discreet, lass, don’t fret,’ they assured Laura, and she’d thanked them profusely with tears in her eyes.
‘I’ll rest better in my bed the night, knowing them bastards have paid the ultimate price for what they did to my boy,’ Joyce had choked, clutching Laura’s hand in gratitude, and they had wept together. ‘You’re my daughter still, lass, and allus shall be – more so after today, you saving my other lad’s life. Just you remember that.’
‘He’s so brave,’ Lizzie murmured later, her adoring gaze fixed on the dozing man across the room. Only she and Laura remained – the others had returned to their respective homes, and Mrs Price and Widow Jessop had retired to their beds. ‘Thank the good Lord he’s all right. I don’t know what I’d have done if …’ She broke off, her bottom lip wobbling. ‘Oh, I shouldn’t have said that, not to thee, not when you’ve lost … Eeh, that were reet insensitive of me. I’m sorry, I am.’
Laura reached for her hand. ‘It’s all right, lass. As for Daniel, he’ll be back on his feet in no time. And soon you’ll be wed, and you’ll be the happiest couple in t’ whole of England and beyond, I just know it,’ she told her, for in that moment, it felt right. Surely Daniel hadn’t really meant what he’d said about not loving Lizzie? He must feel something for the lass? He’d been caught up in the moment, that was all. Anger made you spout things you didn’t mean. A man didn’t ask for a woman’s hand in marriage if he didn’t want it, after all. Particularly not decent breeds like Daniel. The two of them were going to be just fine, she was certain.
That Laura knew no stab of pain nor trace of envy when speaking these words was like a balm to her soul. She felt reborn almost, clearer of mind than she’d been in a good long while. She was in control of herself, and the relief of it felt so good.
Never again would she allow her fragile heart to rule her head. She’d learned some valuable lessons recently, had matured for sure, and she was all the stronger for it. The time for looking back was mercifully gone.
And what of her future? Where did that lie? She’d sworn to herself she’d finished with Manchester and all that went with it, hadn’t she? That aspect, she admitted to herself, was still questionable. She’d remain, for now at least. Who knew what fate would decide to throw her way? However, she was content to wait and see for the time being. She had her friendships here, and that was more than enough for the moment.
‘Ay, give over, Laura. You’ll have me bawling like a babby in a minute,’ Lizzie laughed with a sniff, though the joy in her eyes was clear. ‘Ta, that means an awful lot.’
They shared a gentle smile, then Laura rose from the table. ‘I’d best be getting across to Joyce’s. You’ll be all right keeping an eye to him on your own?’ she asked – Widow Jessop had insisted Daniel stay the night beneath her roof, where she could be close at hand if need be. ‘You’ve only to say if you’d rather I stopped and kept thee company?’
‘Nay, love, you go. I’ll be fine.’
Laura bade her goodnight and let herself out. Alone in the star-pricked darkness, she looked around the familiar yard slowly. Her home. Memories. Her loved ones’ spirits, captured for a lifetime in the very brickwork.
She filled her lungs with the essence of the place, nodded, and continued on to her mother-in-law’s.
Indoors, Joyce was sleeping. After checking on her, Laura closed the bedroom door softly and padded down to the kitchen. The fire burned low and she sat, alone with her thoughts in the dim light, for what seemed an age. By the time she rose for bed her future felt a lot clearer.
Halfway across the room, remembrance sparked. She paused and lifted a hand to her head. Like shedding the last link to all that had endeavoured to harm her, she removed the Cannock brother’s cap with quiet assuagement and threw it into the grate. Soon, small flames licked around the edges. By morning, there would be nothing left but ash. And she knew a sense of finality.
They committed Nathan’s body to the ground on the first Thursday of the new year 1873. And the next day, the two Johns brought information that helped lay an altogether more unpleasant aspect of Laura’s past to rest.
The Bolton Evening News had reported that her tormentors had been found.
A quarryman made the grim discovery upon arriving for work the morning after the fall and later deposed to the identity of the deceased. The county divisional coroner had held an inquest at the nearby Hare and Hounds Inn the following afternoon.
Though one of the victims had sustained an unexplained injury to the neck prior to his death, it was concluded that it hadn’t contributed to his demise. Neither had the loaded revolver, found with them at the bottom of the quarry, played a part. There was, however, no evidence to show how the fatalities had occurred, and the jury therefore recorded open verdicts of ‘Found dead’.
Done. Over with, just like that.
The Cannock brothers were gone. Retribution had been served.
CHAPTER 21
‘I HOPE YOU’LL not live to regret this, Daniel.’
He stopped blowing into his cold hands to throw Laura a smile. ‘You’ll be fine. Like I told thee, follow Lizzie’s lead and you’ll not go far wrong.’
She pulled a face then nodded. ‘I’m being churlish, ain’t I? Sorry. I do appreciate you putting in a good word for me, lad. It’s just I ain’t the first idea about spinning, ain’t never worked in cotton afore, and I don’t want to let thee down.’
‘Now don’t be daft, you’re not to worry on that score. Every mill hand makes the odd mistake in t’ beginning. You’ll take to it in no time.’ He turned to the other woman walking beside him in the dark January morning. ‘Ain’t that right, Lizzie?’
‘Oh aye.’ She gave Laura an encouraging wink. ‘Just you yell should yer need me.’
‘Ta, thanks. Mind, you might regret saying that, lass!’
The idea of factory work had occurred to her the night she’d sat by Joyce’s hearth and assessed her future. What with the coal round no longer an option – her father and Nathan were gone and she’d never manage the heavy sacks alone – she’d decided that a new course of employment was necessary. As cotton was king, the city’s mills were in abundance – it made sense to try her luck down that path first. And when Daniel heard of her plans he’d been only too willing to help, had used his position as overlooker to secure her a job at his place of work. Laura just prayed she’d be up to the task.
She’d called in to see Mr Howarth the week before to talk about taking back ownership of Kenneth. He’d seemed genuinely pleased to see her and, when she explained she’d been rash in her decision, that she was to stay in Manchester after all, he’d understood completely, much to her relief. In exchange for using the horse and cart for his business – with a new driver at the helm, of course – Mr Howarth had agreed to keep him on at the yard and see to his upkeep at no expense to her.
Naturally, she’d accepted straight away. Even his oats she could
ill afford. After paying the rent on her house and feeding herself, she’d have very little left over for anything else. Though if it had come down to it, she’d have sooner starved than give him up. That shire was her last link with her father, her childhood. The thought of losing him, too, struck like a physical pain. She was therefore delighted to have him back and endeavoured to visit him as often as she could.
She must also try to get to see Bridget Figg soon, she reminded herself, feeling a pang at how she’d left things the last time they met. The Irishwoman had been frantic with worry for her, it had been plain to see. Laura had asked Mrs Price and Widow Jessop to give Bridget a message at church last Sunday to let her know she was back, she was well and that she would meet up with her shortly. Laura just prayed she was all right, that she’d suffered no further viciousness or violence from that uncle of hers.
Now, factory operatives on their way to work steadily swelled in number, the noise from hundreds of wooden clogs mingling into one collective clump seeming to shake the very streets. Yet it was nothing compared to what awaited her at the mill.
Stepping inside the spinning room, Laura stopped dead in her tracks. It wasn’t like anything she could have imagined. After the biting cold outside, the unbearably high temperature smacked her full around the face. She’d been told the hot and humid conditions were necessary to prevent the yarn from snapping, but dear God … What it must be like in the height of summer, she shuddered to think. How did these people endure such long hours in this stifling nightmare?
A thick cloud of cotton dust clung to the air and within seconds had clogged her throat, making her cough and her eyes stream. However, it was the sound and sight of the mules themselves that filled her with the most horror – the din of the terrifying-looking monsters was terrific.
Daniel said something she didn’t catch then disappeared to begin his own duties. She turned her helpless gaze to Lizzie, who led her to a long row of machines.
