As Mary reached the first cottage, she heard footsteps. There was somebody walking behind her. Mrs Peart’s words came back to her, ‘It’s not safe for girls to walk home alone.’ What was she doing? She should have tried harder to find someone to walk back with. Or perhaps she should have asked Isaac if she could stay with him and his family for the night, but Mrs Peart would have been worried if she didn’t return to the farm. Mary lengthened her stride, but the footsteps kept pace. She was being followed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She looked over her shoulder to see who was there but couldn’t see anyone in the darkness. Should she run? Should she knock at one of the houses for help?
She picked up her skirts and ran.
A voice came out of the darkness, ‘Mary, is that you?’ Mary stopped and her body slumped. Thank God. It was Joe. As he came into view, he said, ‘Sorry if I frightened you. Mind if I walk you home?’
Mary smiled, ‘I’m so pleased it’s you. I didn’t know who it was following me. Aye, I’d like to walk back with you.’ She was relieved that she was no longer alone.
Joe was clearly in a good mood and he smiled broadly at her. He had been drinking; she could smell beer on his breath and he was very talkative. As they strolled towards Westgate, he talked at length about his family and their farm.
‘Me and Tom were born at High House, but the farm is just leased – it’s rented from the Bishop,’ he explained. ‘We work it but it’s not ours, and it’ll never be ours. Now Springbank Farm, that’s a different matter. Mr Peart got that from his father and it’s been in their family for years. I want a farm that’s mine, really mine, so I can pass it on to me son and he can pass it on to his.’
Mary was captivated by his enthusiasm. She hoped beyond hope that she might be part of his dream. Why else would he be walking her home and sharing his thoughts with her? She loved listening to him talk. Mary was so happy, she didn’t want the night to end.
‘I’ll have it one day an’ all. A farm and a family. A farm to pass on to your family. What more could a man want?’
As they neared the farmhouse, Joe stopped and took her hand. ‘You look beautiful tonight, Mary,’ he said, leaning towards her. He kissed her softly on her lips.
‘Meet me tomorrow,’ he whispered breathlessly into her ear. ‘At the river, where the whirlpool is, after the show.’
He held her at arm’s length and waited for her reply.
Mary hoped he would kiss her again and, when he made no move to, she reached up and kissed him. This time the kiss was much more heated. He stepped back from her. ‘You’d better get back. See you tomorrow.’
He turned away and Mary walked up to the farmhouse.
Mrs Peart was furious when Mary returned home alone. ‘Why isn’t Connie with you?’ she demanded.
‘Isn’t she back yet?’ asked Mary.
Mrs Peart glared at her.
Mary continued, ‘I looked everywhere for her at the town hall, but she wasn’t there. I waited half an hour and looked again but I still couldn’t find her. I didn’t have any choice — I couldn’t stay there any longer — I had to come back myself. I thought she’d be here when I got back. She must have left before me.’
‘Well she isn’t back, and the Lord only knows where she is. If she’s not home soon, I’ll have to wake Mr Peart and he’ll have to go out and find her.’
‘I’m sorry Mrs Peart, but there was nothing else I could do. Please sit down and I’ll make a cup of cocoa. I’m sure she’ll be back soon,’ Mary said, trying to calm her mistress.
About a quarter of an hour later, while they were sitting at the kitchen table finishing off their drinks, they heard hoofbeats approaching the house. Mary opened the back door and heard voices outside – Connie and a man. They were silhouetted by the moonlight, but Mary could see that it was Henry who sat astride the horse and Connie was sitting in front of him, very close. Henry had his arms around her and his hands caressed her as he kissed her neck from behind. He pulled back and lifted her gently to the ground. ‘You will think about it, won’t you?’ he asked. Connie replied in a whisper, ‘Yes, of course I will.’
Connie ran across the yard towards Mary and snarled, ‘Don’t you dare tell my parents about this.’
She wasn’t aware that her mother was waiting in the kitchen and had heard her.
‘Where on earth have you been, girl, at this hour? And who brought you home?’
‘I’m old enough to do what I want, Mother. I’m eighteen, for God’s sake. I’m old enough to decide who I want to go out with.’
‘Don’t you blaspheme in this house, young lady! Who were you with until this time of night?’ Mrs Peart demanded.
‘If you must know, it was Henry Forster. He’s been courting me for quite a while now.’
Mrs Peart moved her hand to her mouth in shock. Mary sat quietly, wondering whether she should leave the room. This was a private matter. She remembered the letter Henry had given to her for Connie and realised that it must have been a love letter.
Connie continued, ‘I didn’t say anything because we didn’t want Father or Sir Thomas interfering. If we want to see each other, it’s our business and not theirs. Anyway, Henry has asked me to marry him!’ Connie declared with a satisfied grin.
‘He can’t ask you to marry him. He hasn’t asked your father for permission. Lord, what is this world coming to? Get yourself to bed and we’ll talk about this tomorrow — with your father.’
Lying in bed that night, Mary thought of Joe’s kiss and replayed the scene over and over in her mind. She could still feel his kiss on her lips. To her mind, Joe was perfect. He was a farmer, he was handsome, he liked her, and he had kissed her. Mary hugged herself and drifted off to sleep.
***
As they were leaving the breakfast table the next morning, Mr Peart said, ‘Connie, come into the parlour. Your mother says there’s something we need to talk about.’ Connie got up from the table and led the way. Once they reached the parlour, they went in and closed the door.
Mr Peart stood with his back to the unlit fireplace, his hands behind his back. ‘Sit down, Connie. I know what happened last night. You left Mary to walk home by herself. That was a stupid thing to do and, what’s more, you broke your promise to us, your parents. You were allowed to go to the dance so long as you walked back together. I dread to think what could have happened to Mary. All the lads have a skinful when the dances are on and she’s a bonny lass.’
‘Well, she got back safely, so what’s all the fuss about?’ said Connie.
‘And you came home with Henry Forster, I hear, on his horse. That’s not seemly for a young woman, unless she’s courting — and courting seriously.’
‘We are, Father. I’ve been seeing Henry for months now.’
‘Well, that explains why you’ve been riding out more often. Why didn’t you say something? You didn’t think I’d object to a union with Henry Forster, did you? The Forsters are a good family and they’re good friends of ours. I don’t know the boy very well because he spent a lot of time up at that fancy school in Newcastle, but you could do a lot worse than Henry Forster. He’ll have a title one day. My daughter — Lady Constance — just imagine that!’
‘He still spends a lot of time up at Newcastle. I told him I’d consider his proposal and let him know when I’ve made a decision.’
‘Sensible. Yes, sensible, but don’t think about it for too long. Opportunities like this don’t come along every day,’ her father warned. ‘If he comes to ask for your hand, he’ll be given it. You have my word.’
Chapter 7
St John’s Chapel
August 1872
Mary could remember the first agricultural show that was held at St John’s Chapel. Her parents had taken her there when she was just a bairn. She remembered the crowds of people milling around the showfield, more people than she had ever seen before, but what she remembered most was the incredible noise — people talking and laughing, tradesmen touting their wares, h
orses’ hooves pounding the ground, cows and sheep calling to each other, cockerels crowing and dogs barking. The Weardale Brass Band had played lively tunes and the sound had been almost deafening near the bandstand. A dancing bear with doleful eyes had been the main attraction but, as a child, Mary had been mesmerised by it all.
She was pleased that the Pearts had given her the day off to go to the show and she was very excited about meeting her family there. It seemed such a long time since she had seen them. She rushed her breakfast and set off far too early and spent over an hour wandering around and watching everyone bring their exhibits to the show. There were classes for animals, poultry, eggs, flowers, vegetables, foods, crafts and minerals. Some folks took the competition very seriously, others took part just for fun. To pass the time, Mary pretended to herself that she was a judge and chose a winner from each of the categories.
Suddenly, she felt arms hugging her around the waist. It was her brother, William. ‘I’ve missed you, our Mary!’ he said as he clung to her.
‘I’ve missed you too.’ She hugged him back. ‘We have a full day together today. Won’t that be fun?’
He nodded and grinned.
Annie’s greeting was a bit more subdued and Mary thought she looked tired. Perhaps looking after Fell Top and the family was taking its toll on her. Annie had carried their baby brother all the way down from Killhope, so they found a seat where she could rest and they could catch up on the news.
‘So, how are you all?’ asked Mary.
‘Alright, I suppose. Father hasn’t given me any money to buy food for ages. I’m struggling to make what we have last,’ said Annie. ‘And he wants our William to start as a washerboy at Killhope mine. He’s only nine, Mary. He’s still just a bairn.’
‘I’m not a bairn! What do washerboys do, anyway?’ asked William.
‘Well, they work at the mine. They have a very important job. They sort the lead ore from the other minerals. At the end of the day they have a lovely pile of silver-coloured ore that shines in the sun,’ Mary explained, trying to paint a rosy picture of it in case he ended up having to work there. She didn’t mention how physically hard it was, or that his hands would be in cold water for most of the day, or that the pay was pitiful. She thought about all the families that were struggling to feed themselves and had no choice but to send their children out to work. She hoped that William would not become one of these children. Mary handed over her pay to Annie, not keeping a single penny for herself. She had everything she needed at the farm and she would do anything she could to prevent her little brother from having to wash ore.
‘Thank you, Mary. That’ll keep us going for a while,’ said Annie, looking relieved.
As Annie moved John from one arm to the other to get more comfortable, Mary saw a bruise on her left arm and said, ‘That looks nasty.’
‘The goat kicked me when I was milking her,’ Annie replied quickly. ‘By the way, our John was bad with fever last week. I hardly slept for three nights. He’s fine now though.’
Well, that explained why Annie looked tired, Mary thought. She reached out and took the baby from her sister. She felt his brow and examined him closely. He seemed to be well and was sleeping peacefully.
William jumped up and down, tugging at Mary’s skirt.
‘Why don’t you stand over there, by that fence, and watch the horses in the ring?’ suggested Mary. The sisters watched him scamper across to the ringside.
‘What about you, Mary?’ asked Annie. ‘What’s your new place like?’
Mary told her about the farm and her life there, and about the people she lived with. She mentioned the Rowell twins who worked there, the Milburns who were neighbours and the library, and finished off by telling her about Joe’s accident.
Mary realised that her father hadn’t turned up. ‘Did Father not come down with you?’ she asked her sister. Annie looked away and said, ‘He didn’t want to come, Mary. He wasn’t feeling over grand.’
Mary was surprised to hear that because Annie hadn’t mentioned he was ill, but before she had time to ask any more questions, Annie stood up and walked over to join William, who was watching the horse classes. Mary followed her sister, wondering why she was being evasive. She hoped he wasn’t seriously ill.
‘Annie, what’s wrong with him?’
‘He’s alright really. It’s nothing to worry about.’
Mary still wasn’t convinced, but she turned to watch the horses with her family. The judge was Sir Thomas Forster and he stood in the centre of the show ring, turning around on the spot to study the horses’ paces as they walked, trotted and cantered about the ring. A young man pulled up his grey mare and rejoined the line. Connie rode out on Star. She looked very elegant in her silk riding habit and top hat and, as she began to canter, the lace flowed behind her and transformed her into an ethereal being. The crowd were spellbound. She was a natural rider and her round appeared effortless. Mary had to admit that Connie was a beautiful woman – at least on the outside.
As Connie finished her final lap she returned to the line and smiled at Henry Forster who was the last rider in the competition. He looked smart as he started the round. His black stallion’s coat shone iridescently in the sunlight. When Henry changed from a trot to a canter, the horse reared, but he kept his seat, completed the round and rejoined the line.
It was no surprise when Sir Thomas selected Connie as the winner and tied a ribbon onto Star’s bridle. Even those who knew nothing about bloodstock had been transfixed watching her on her horse.
As the horses left the ring, several farmers entered with their best cows and walked them around the ring. Annie noticed that Mary was watching one man in particular.
‘Do you know him — the dark-haired lad?’ she asked.
‘Yes, that’s Joe Milburn, the one I told you about, you know, the accident with the bull.’
‘He’s handsome, isn’t he? Has he got a lass?’
Mary stammered, ‘I...I don’t think so, not that I know of anyway.’
The farmers stood in line with their cows and the judge walked up and down, stopping occasionally to examine a cow more closely. As Joe stood there, he noticed the two young women watching him from the ringside and, recognising Mary, he waved across at them. Mary waved back and blushed furiously as her sister said, ‘I think he will have soon. He has his eye on you.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Mary, wondering what Annie would say if she knew that she was going to meet him after the show.
Handing the baby back to Annie, Mary said, ‘Come on, you lot, it’s time we went to explore — there’s loads to see here.’
Mary heard someone say, ‘Morning, Mary.’ She looked around to see where the words had come from and if they were meant for her. There were lots of Marys in the dale. ‘Over here,’ said Tom, indicating for her to join him and his mother. ‘Enjoying the show?’ he asked.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Mary, this is me mother, Jane Milburn. Mother, this is Mary Watson from Killhope. She works for Mrs Peart,’ said Tom.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Mary,’ said the older woman, with a pleasant smile.
‘You too, Mrs Milburn.’
Tom looked up into the cloudless sky. ‘It’s a beautiful day for the show. It’s been a good day all round, hasn’t it, Mother? She’s just won the best jam, and the best butter in the show!’ he said proudly. ‘You’ll have to come over for tea sometime. You’ll not get a better tea anywhere!’
‘Now, now, Tom, there’s no need to go on about it. Anyway, you needn’t talk, your shepherd’s crook won the sticks category. He likes working with wood, does our Tom,’ she said proudly.
‘Well done on winning the prizes, Mrs Milburn,’ said Mary.
‘Call me Jane, lass. We don’t stand on ceremony in our house. So, this must be your brother and sister — I can see the resemblance. And the baby?’
He’s my brother, John. Mother died just after she’d had him.’
‘I’m sorry
to hear that, lass.’ Turning to the others, she said, ‘By, you lot have had a long walk, haven’t you? It must be nice to see your Mary again.’
‘Aye, it is,’ said Annie. ‘We’ve missed her. All of us have.’
‘Ah, here’s our Joe comin’ now.’ When he reached them, she asked, ‘How did the heifer do, lad?’
‘Second prize, not bad for her first time out. I’m sure she’ll win her class next year.’ As if to justify his pride, he added, ‘I bred her myself. You know, it’s a shame I couldn’t have brought that ewe today. She would have beaten all the others in the show. She was one of the best I’ve ever had.’
‘We lost two ewes and their lambs,’ Tom explained to Mary. ‘No sign of them anywhere. They just disappeared. They must have been stolen otherwise we’d have found them — dead or alive.’
Mary replied, ‘Mr Peart lost one when I started there in April. Her lambs went as well.’
‘Did he now? That’s interesting,’ replied Joe. Turning to his brother, he said, ‘I think we should go and have a word with Mr Peart. Come on.’
‘Well, it was nice to meet your family Mary,’ said Tom, nodding at them one by one. ‘And to see you again.’
Joe dragged Tom off to begin their search for Mr Peart, and the Watsons continued their stroll around the field.
The Lead Miner's Daughter Page 5
