‘Of course they must have it. I wouldn’t dream of taking any of it. I don’t need it,’ Nellie said. ‘In fact I can contribute a bit each week if necessary.’
‘It won’t be necessary whilst I live here, though if I leave I don’t know what will happen. It looks like I’m stuck ’ere until you start at pit, Will.’
‘I don’t want to go to’t pit; I’d be scared shut in all’t time in the dark.’ William had turned pale.
‘Me mam didn’t want you to go, but I can’t see any alternative,’ Lucy said, ‘not if our Ben wants a home of his own.’
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ Ben said. ‘In the meantime I think this little lot should go in the bank for safety.’
‘In our Will’s name,’ Jane stressed. ‘How much is there?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t counted it.’
‘Then we’d better do it now, and the first chance we get we’ll take it to the Yorkshire Bank.
‘Come on, Jacob, you work with money. Would you like to count it for us?’ Jacob nodded. As an accountant he was pleased to be of assistance to his wife’s family and even more pleased to be included in their affairs. Being an only child he considered this family – who admittedly had just lost their mother but had a close relationship with their brothers and sisters – to be so much more fortunate than him. He counted the money and delved into his pocket, bringing out a florin, which he added to the rest of the money. ‘Exactly two hundred and forty pounds.’
‘What? Bloody ’ell.’ Ben usually reserved any bad language for the pit, but he was too shocked to notice. ‘How did she manage that?’
‘Well, I reckon she must have saved all of her pension since your father died. There’s also a hundred pounds from Aunt Kate and a donation from the colliers at the time of your father’s death.’
‘She’d been scrimping before me dad died, she told me.’ Lucy was proud that her mother had chosen her to confide in.
‘Ah yes, but there would have been a time of hardship during the strike, with bills to be paid,’ Jacob reasoned. Nobody informed him about how mean Annie had been. In fact they would all have been willing to exist on stew for the rest of their lives just to have their mother back. Only in one piece though – none of them would have wished her back to suffer. And each and every one of them was relieved not to have the worry of caring for an invalid, though none of them would ever have admitted it.
Chapter Seven
IT WAS TWO o’clock in the morning when Lucy woke. Her pillow was wet with tears and the realisation that she would never see her mother again dawned on her for the first time. She looked to the bottom of the bed and wasn’t at all surprised to see her mother standing there. She was wearing the new flannel nighty with the embroidered Peter Pan collar, which had been folded neatly in her mother’s drawer ready for her laying out. Mrs Slater had done her the honour of making her look nice; she had laid her on the best cotton sheets with the lace edging ready for visitors to call and pay their last respects. ‘Mam, you’ve let your hair down; you look lovely,’ Lucy said. Annie merely smiled and floated away through the wall into the next room. Lucy sighed, snuggled down into the lumpy flock pillow and drifted off to sleep.
Jane was packing Nestlé Milk sandwiches the next morning, for the two of them to take to work and for Will to take for his school lunch. Ben would already have been slaving for a couple of hours. Lucy poured the tea. ‘Me mam came last night,’ she said.
‘It’ll be all the upset that made you dream.’
‘No, it wasn’t a dream. She came and stood at the foot of the bed to comfort me because I was upset. I was really sad and worried, Jane, then she came and smiled at me. She looked all young and pretty and her hair was thick and long, just like it was when we were little.’
‘You’re being silly, Lucy and creepy.’
‘No it wasn’t creepy, it was lovely. She came to watch over us and now I don’t feel lost anymore.’
William came clattering downstairs. ‘What are you doing up at this time?’ Jane asked. ‘We were going to give you a shout when we went to work.’
‘I’ve got to go. I’ve got a job.’
‘A job? You can’t. You’ve to go to school.’
‘Before school, I’ve to load up the cart for Mr Brown every morning. I shall be paid on Friday. It won’t be much but it’ll pay for some food I expect.’
‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m really proud of you, Will.’ William blushed but he was pleased.
‘As long as it doesn’t make you late for school,’ Jane warned.
‘Oh it won’t. Mr Brown needs to be off on his rounds by half past eight.’ He reached for his cap. ‘I’m off.’
‘Here, don’t go without yer sandwiches. You’re to go and eat them at Mrs Slater’s at dinner time.’
‘Sandwiches? That’s not much of a dinner.’
‘No, you’ll be having your dinner with us at tea time as of now.’
‘Wow, does that mean we’re turning all posh like our Nellie?’
‘No, just that our mam’s not here to cook for you at midday. We just need to get organised, then we shall be all right.’
‘Well, I’m off.’ Will hurried out without a backward glance.
‘He seems to have recovered from our ordeal without much trouble.’
‘Hmm, I expect our mam’s looking after him too.’
‘How did the funeral go?’ John Grey enquired as Ben joined him at the pit head.
‘Better than I expected. I never thought so many people would turn out to pay their respects.’
‘Aye, some people seem to enjoy funerals.’
Ben thought how horrendous it must have been for the Grey brothers to lose their parents and their home all in one go.
‘I’m just relieved that it’s over and me mother’s out of her suffering.’
‘How are the others?’
‘Not too bad. I think they’re all as relieved as I am. I can’t imagine how she’d ’ave coped with not being able to get about.’
‘How’s Lucy?’
‘Oh, our Lucy’ll cope. I shall just ’ave to make sure she doesn’t turn into a slave for us all.’
‘Aye, she needs to get out.’
‘You’re right and I’ll make sure she does.’ The conversation came to an end as the men began work. John felt happier than he had for weeks. He hoped Ben Gabbitas would keep his word and encourage Lucy to go out, then John might have a chance of seeing her, because he couldn’t get the girl out of his mind. She was there, day and night, her blue eyes gazing hauntingly into his. John Grey, for the first time in his life, was in love.
Chapter Eight
IT WAS OVER a year now since Annie Gabbitas had been laid to rest. The household had soon become organised and a day-to-day routine established. At first the girls had taken turns to cook the evening dinner and clean the house, but as Lucy turned out to be the better cook it had been decided that she would prepare the meals and Jane would tidy the kitchen. On Saturday afternoons they would join forces and give the whole house a thorough bottoming. As Ben was paying the rent and making other financial contributions it was decided he would be let off any household duties. Young Will had made himself responsible for chopping sticks and bringing up the coal. He was also allowed by Mr Brown to bring home any fruit and vegetables he considered unfit for sale. The family were eating better than ever before with a real Sunday dinner of beef and Yorkshire pudding. And soon after Annie’s death Evelyn Smithson had offered to do the weekly washing; it had not only been a godsend to the family but to Evelyn too. With a son to support and no husband Evelyn struggled to manage and even people who had ostracised Evelyn for being an unmarried mother had come to respect her for the hard worker she had proved to be.
A few weeks after Annie’s funeral John Grey had asked Lucy to accompany him to a dance at Longfield. She had felt her pulse quicken with excitement but had told him he had better ask their Ben if he approved. Ben, who had
taken young John under his wing and knew him to be hard-working and honest wasn’t surprised that he had taken a fancy to his sister.
‘I’d like to ask your Lucy to the dance on Saturday. Would that be all right?’ John had asked as they made their way through the piles of pit props and wheel sets.
‘Aye, so long as yer promise to look after ’er and see she gets ’ome safe. Oh, and remember, she’s a good lass, our Lucy. I expect her to stay that way.’
‘She will, I promise.’ John had set to work with a grin on his face and it was soon to become common knowledge that Lucy Gabbitas and John Grey were courting.
Although John came to Sheepdip Wood every working day he had never taken this path before, only being familiar with the ash track leading to the pit. On this Sunday evening he and Lucy were taking the path alongside the ochre stream. The air was heady with the scent of bluebells after a shower; the beeches were washed clean and seemed a brighter green than usual. They paused to listen to the tapping of a woodpecker and watched a red squirrel scurry up the trunk of an oak tree.
‘I’ve never been to this part of the wood before.’ John pulled Lucy down onto a fallen branch. ‘Look at the view from up here.’
‘My dad used to bring us up here when we were little. We used to walk all the way round the dam. My grandad helped to build that dam,’ she informed him proudly.
‘There’s not many folk who’ll leave a memorial like that behind them.’
‘No. He died young though. The hard graft, I expect.’ Lucy’s face clouded. ‘John!’
‘Yes?’
‘I wish you’d leave the pit and find another job.’
John laughed. ‘Easier said than done, Lucy. There aren’t many jobs to be had. Besides, it’s not so bad.’
‘It killed my dad.’
‘Really, did the doctor say so?’
‘Oh no, they said it was consumption, but it wasn’t. If you’d seen the coal dust he coughed up. Every morning he’d cough for half an hour, and the rags were full of black phlegm. I don’t know how he managed to work some days.’
John thought about what she’d said. On the morning shift it was normal for the coughing of the men to echo along the pit shaft. Sometimes it sounded like the barking of a pack of dogs. ‘I guess all jobs have their drawbacks,’ he said, trying to make light of things. ‘Anyway, what else could I do?’
‘Go in the works. I’m sure there must be something you can do.’
John drew Lucy towards him. ‘Let’s change the subject,’ he said. ‘I shall be back at work soon enough.’ He kissed Lucy, a long, warm kiss. He felt the familiar throb in his loins and the erection he could never control once Lucy was in his arms. He moved her hand so that she was holding him. ‘See what you do to me,’ he said. ‘You’re a witch, do you know that?’
Lucy giggled. ‘Sorry,’ she said, but she wasn’t sorry at all and began to unbutton his trousers. She still felt shy when she did this but it didn’t feel wrong, not when she loved John so much. She felt the smooth, warm hardness in her hand. He had shown her how to touch him slowly, caressingly to prolong their pleasure. Lucy wished he would do the same to her but he flatly refused, telling her it would lead to other things and he’d promised her brother he’d keep her safe. She could have told him about the feelings she had when she thought about him in the privacy of her bed, but she was too embarrassed.
‘We should get married, Lucy. That way we could both be satisfied,’ John said when it was over.
‘We will, one day. When our Will’s a bit older.’ She always gave him the same answer. ‘Besides, we’re too young; I’m enjoying my life.’ At seventeen Lucy was quite content. She was just adjusting John’s clothing when they heard a sound behind them. John jumped to his feet. ‘Why, it’s a bloody Peeping Tom.’ He was about to go for the figure half-hidden in the bushes but Lucy held him back.
‘No! It’s only Daniel; he doesn’t know right from wrong. He doesn’t mean any harm.’ Lucy beckoned to the lad who was known throughout Millington as Dopey Dan. ‘Come on out, Daniel.’ Daniel emerged from the greenery, his hair littered with twigs and sporting a wide grin. ‘And what have you been doing today?’ she enquired kindly.
‘Birds.’ Daniel pointed up at the tree under which they were standing.
‘Watching the birds? What kind have you seen today?’
‘Birds, thrush. Blackbirds, lots. Frogs.’ He came and took hold of Lucy’s hand in the hope of leading her to the pond higher up in the wood.
‘Another day, I’ll go and see the frogs another day. I’m going home now.’
Daniel looked disappointed as they set off along the path in the direction of Millington. He rushed up in front of them and a wide grin spread across his face as he made a lewd gesture with his hand. Then he pointed at Lucy and then at an embarrassed John.
Further down the path Lucy began to giggle and John turned to her and said, ‘I thought you implied he was a bit slow. Well he’s not so daft that he didn’t take in what we were doing. What if he tells someone? What was he doing up here anyway?’
‘Like he said, watching the birds. He’s known as Dopey Dan the bird man. He talks to them and some believe the birds talk to him too. Once when our dad brought us here looking for holly we came across Daniel feeding a robin. It was perched on the back of his hand and he was whispering some very strange sounds.’
‘Where does he live?’
‘Over there in the farm on the far bank of the dam. Mrs Cadman always fetches him to clip the claws on her canary. Daniel whispers to the bird and it hops out of the cage and onto his hand where it sits perfectly still until he’s finished. Mrs Cadman says it won’t do that for anybody else.’
‘Well, I just hope he forgets what we were doing.’
Lucy giggled. ‘I won’t forget.’
John slapped her playfully on her firm, rounded backside. ‘I bet you won’t. Like I said, you’re a witch, Lucy Gabbitas.’
‘Aye, and if you aren’t careful I shall cast a spell on you and make you invisible so you can sneak into my bed.’
‘Oh aye, that’d be interesting, snuggling up between you and your Jane.’ The couple laughed and joked all the way home. It was only when they reached Top Row that they became serious. It was becoming increasingly difficult to leave each other. They might be enjoying life, but it would be far more enjoyable if they didn’t have to part.
* * *
Prudence Goodman watched Robbie Grey join the gang of young men and go in the direction of the Memorial Gardens. She watched a similar gang of girls wander off in the opposite direction. No doubt they would be meeting up later. ‘Why don’t you go with them?’ Louisa asked her daughter. ‘You’ve been invited to join them often enough.’
‘Do you really think I would lower myself by wandering about making a spectacle of myself?’
‘They aren’t doing any harm. It would be good for you to mix more with people your own age.’
‘Oh yes, some people, but not common ones like those.’
‘They aren’t common, they’re hard-working, pleasant young people.’
Louisa wondered yet again how she and Herbert had managed to produce a daughter who could be such a snob. She even looked down on the girls who had been in the same class at school, the girls who had made their Brownie and Guide promises on the same day as Prudence.
Even on her first day at school she had found a place to sit away from the other children. Sometimes Louisa felt like suggesting her daughter be found a job of some description, but knew Herbert wouldn’t hear of it. Besides, who would employ a girl whose mood could change so rapidly? So Prudence’s days were spent sewing, reading and visiting one or two old ladies in the afternoons. On Sundays she taught at Sunday school and on Monday evenings she was Brown Owl in charge of the Brownies. And that was another thing; it had been brought to Louisa’s attention that one or two Brownies had left the troop because Brown Owl was too bossy. Indeed some of the younger ones were said to be afraid of her. ‘Robe
rt mixes with the group. Would you class him as common?’
‘Of course, he’s just our lodger, isn’t he?’ Prudence didn’t really think Robbie was common – she thought he was handsome and mysterious because he never discussed anything with the family. If he asked her to walk out with him she wouldn’t hesitate to do so, but he never even glanced her way. At meal times he usually sat at the opposite end of the table where she couldn’t look at him and she daren’t change places for fear of drawing attention to herself.
Prudence Grey wasn’t a very nice person and though Robbie was grateful to the Goodmans for opening their home to them he couldn’t stand their daughter, and not many other people could either.
Robbie wandered with the lads along the path by the flower beds, up the steps towards the clock and down the path to where the girls were chatting and laughing. New ones had joined the gang and old ones moved on, either to the pub for a crafty pint or because they were going steady with someone. Young Will Gabbitas and Ernie Slater had taken the place of Robbie’s brothers, who were thick as thieves with the Gabbitas girls. Mable, Kitty and Lewis were still hanging around and of course Dot. Robbie had gone to the pictures once or twice with Dot Greenwood, and because of that the others had begun to think of them as a couple. Actually Robbie didn’t mind; Dot was fun. Besides, she hadn’t objected when he kissed her in the darkness, whilst Charlie Chaplin tottered about in City Lights and a little woman pounded away on the piano below the screen.
‘Did yer see Prudence Goodman staring at you?’ Dot questioned Robbie.
‘When?’
‘Just now in church. I think she fancies yer.’
‘Well I don’t fancy her. I can’t stand the sight of her.’
‘You’d better watch out then; it could be awkward living in the same house as someone who has a crush on you.’
‘I’m not in very much. I work over most nights. It’s Sundays that are awkward. If it’s raining I’m expected to play daft games like Beatle or Ludo.’
A Family Christmas Page 7
