by Iris Gower
Bea kissed Sterling’s cheek with mock innocence. ‘I may be allowed that much, mightn’t I?’ she asked archly. ‘After all, we are almost like brother and sister. Please don’t come downstairs, Bertha and I will take the tram home.’
When he was alone, Sterling sat staring at the empty wine bottle and wondered why the events of the last hour had left him feeling vaguely dissatisfied. He was almost inclined to call off the arrangement they had made to meet again and yet he needed a woman as did any fullblooded man and Bea was beautiful as well as passionate.
He moved to the window and stared out into the waning afternoon sun lying in great pools on the yard below. It was about time he was moving for there was still a great deal of work for him to do before nightfall.
Chapter Ten
March came into Sweyn’s Eye with scarcely any lessening of the bitter cold weather and Mali shivered as she looked up at the greyness of the early morning sky which seemed to hang low over the Canal Street Laundry. At her side, Katie was sleepy and uncommunicative, holding her shawl around her head and shoulders with hands that were blue with the cold.
‘How’s William?’ Mali asked and the words came out on small puffs of freezing air. Katie showed some animation for the first time since they’d left Copperman’s Row.
‘He’s hale and hearty, so he is, fine buck of a man as I’m always tellin’ you.’
Mali thrust her hands deep into her pockets and stared down at her black shiny boots, wondering if she would ever have a young buck come courting her. Katie coughed a little.
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph but it’s cold, I’ll be that glad when the spring weather comes in. And how’s your dad doin’ at the copper? Will tells me they all have ter work so much harder now that young Mr Richardson is the boss, a real slave driver he is, so it seems.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Mali said quickly and at her side Katie gave a sniff that sounded more than a little derisory.
‘I was forgettin’ he’s your idol Mali Llewelyn, and him so far above you as God himself.’
‘Hush,’ Mali said quickly; she did not like to hear Katie uttering blasphemy, somehow it unsettled her. In any event Sterling Richardson did not think himself far above her, he had given her his friendship, talked to her as though she was his equal, and she would not listen to a word against him.
‘Dad’s still meeting that woman,’ she said, deliberately changing the subject. ‘I keep smelling her scent on his clothes. There’s dull men can be some times.’
‘Seen him with her the other night so I did,’ Katie replied. ‘She clings to his arm as if she’s in danger of falling down drunk in the roadway and that tatty fur thing around her neck makes me go cold all over so it does. Taken off some poor creature who never did any harm to no one and those dead eyes looking up at ye so forlorn.’
Mali laughed. ‘Those are not real eyes, Katie, don’t be silly. They’re only glass.’
‘I don’t care a fig leaf about that, all I know is that once that was a fox and now it’s dead and hung round her neck. No wonder she ‘as to wear scent.’
They quickened their pace as the gates of the Canal Street Laundry came into sight.
‘Look sharp, Mali.’ Aggie stood alongside the entrance, her cap squashed firmly onto her thinning grey hair. ‘Get boilers lit and no letting them go out today, is it?’
It irked Mali that she had never been allowed to forget her one mistake. Without replying to the old woman, she turned to Katie. ‘I’ll see you at grub time.’
‘Sure and so you will.’ Katie ran lightly up the narrow staircase and Mali moved towards the doors of the boiler house only to find Big Mary barring her way.
‘Not in there merchi, not this morning. Doris dropped her babba some weeks back and is fit as a flea again and now she wants her old job back, which is only right and proper, mind.’
Mali looked at her in consternation. ‘But what about me?’ she asked, fearful of being dismissed.
Big Mary smiled. ‘The way I look at it is this, you’ve proved you’ve got guts and that you’re not afeared of hard work. You’ve got a bit up here, too.’ She tapped her head. ‘I’m bringing you up to the packing room – which is a privilege mind, so take care you earn it.’
Mali felt relief and a mingling of pride and triumph. She had done her job as stoker on the fires and done it so well that she was to be rewarded.
‘Thank you, Mary,’ she said and she was unable to keep the joy from her voice.
‘Right, don’t stand round all day, get up the stairs and begin work and tomorrow wear some decent clothes, you’re a packer now.’
Katie’s eyes lit up when she saw Mali making her way down the long room towards her.
‘In the name of the Blessed Virgin what are you doing here?’ she asked, but by the smile turning up the corners of her lips Katie already knew the answer.
‘I’m a packer now, like you,’ Mali said proudly. She settled herself next to Katie on the long wooden bench and stared at the neatly folded sheets before her.
‘Don’t you be worried,’ Katie said. ‘I’ll show you how to pack properly and how to tie the safest knots and how to snap the string, you’ll be the best packer here, next to Katie Murphy, that is.’
‘In a pig’s arse.’ Sally Benson stood before the table, hands on hips, her hair tied severely away from her face giving her a somewhat bovine appearance. ‘She can’t even keep a boiler alight so my aunt Aggie tells me, and what good will she be as a packer? I’m not carrying her for one and if you do her work Katie Murphy you’re a bigger fool than I took you for.’
Katie rose to her feet, her eyes fiery. ‘Shut your gob Sally or be Jesus I’ll shut it for you.’
Mali caught Katie’s arm. ‘Take no notice,’ she said quickly, ‘It’s only talk. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.’ She smiled as she repeated their childhood chant, trying to ease the tension.
‘Fool.’ With a look of disgust, Sally Benson turned away, her departure hastened by the sight of Big Mary entering the room.
‘I hate that bitch,’ Katie said through clenched teeth. ‘She’s always trying to poke fun at me and so far I’ve put up with her jibes because I’m afeared to start brawling and perhaps lose my job. But if she’s goin’ to pick on you then something must be done about her.’
‘Leave it be and just show me the packing, there’s a good girl,’ Mali said, but she was grateful and touched by Katie’s loyalty.
The morning passed swiftly and pleasantly for Mali, it was good to be in clean surroundings with the scent of hot fresh linen permeating the long room. It was a far cry from hauling scuttles of coal to and fro and crouching in the dust feeding the fires, breathing in the acrid taste of smoke and cinders. She soon became nimble at folding the huge linen sheets that belonged to the big houses of the area and placing them on shiny brown paper, packing them as though they were sandwiches. Unwary of the sharp edges of the paper, she cut herself once and instantly sucked at her finger, fearful of spilling blood onto the crisp linen.
‘I see you’re taking to the job like a duck to water.’ Big Mary paused at the table, staring down from her great height at Mali. She was dark haired, with large features and piercing black eyes and there were those who said there was a bit of the gypsy in Big Mary. And yet there was a noble, determined cut to her brow and chin that commanded respect far more than did her immense stature.
‘Find it a bit different to the boiler room, don’t you?’ Big Mary leaned over and neatly folded a corner of a sheet into place, flicking it with her fingers and deftly eliminating the creases.
‘It’s lovely here,’ Mali agreed. She was a little in awe of Big Mary and fumbled a little over the packing. ‘Katie’s been a good help to me,’ she said. ‘Teaching me knots and things, I expect I’ll improve, get much faster once I’m used to it.’
Big Mary nodded and continued along the workroom, her eagle eyes missing nothing. Mali sighed with relief, she had been nervous
with the overseer watching her.
‘What’s wrong with you, are the fleas bitin’ again?’ Katie’s laughing eyes met Mali’s. ‘I see you’re a little bit afeared of Big Mary and ‘tis only natural, so I was myself until I came to know her better. Don’t do to take no liberties but for all that she’s a good boss to work for.’
Mali stared down at the string in her fingers. ‘I suppose I am a bit frightened but it’s of getting the boot, Katie. I don’t know what I’d do now if I had to stay at home, especially with that Rosa coming and going at all times of the day and night. Thinks she owns the house, she does. Aye, and Dad along with it.’
‘Don’t take on so.’ Katie rested her hand on Mali’s arm. ‘Your dad is a grown man and can’t get what he wants from you. Though I’ve heard tell of men who abuse their own daughters, so be grateful for Rosa and don’t take it all so seriously.’
Mali stared at her friend soberly. ‘But he’s talking of marriage, Katie, how could I bear to have that woman living under the same roof?’
‘And who says he’s talking of marriage? She does, not him I’ll be bound, for your dad’s got more sense than that. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, do you tink he’d walk up the aisle with the likes of her? Ashamed he’d be and that’s the God’s truth.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’ But even as Mali settled earnestly to work she could not help thinking that perhaps Rosa was even now sitting before the fire in the small house in Copperman’s Row.
A short time after the girls had finished their grub break, a ripple of excited chatter passed between the packers. Big Mary moved at a swift pace along the room, her eyes more keen than usual and with a manner that could almost be described as flustered.
‘Mr Waddington is coming on a tour of inspection, girls.’ Big Mary’s voice rang commandingly down the length of the packing room. ‘He has already been around the boilerhouse and will be by here with us in just a few minutes so look sharp all of you and on your best behaviour, mind, or it’s me you’ll have to answer to.’
‘Blessed Mother save us.’ Katie crossed herself quickly and jogged Mali’s arm. ‘Don’t just sit there gawping, look as if you’re busy even if there’s nothing to do but tie the same knot twice.’
Mali felt her heart begin to beat swiftly as she wondered why everyone was so nervous.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked and Katie rolled her eyes towards heaven in exasperation.
‘Mr Waddington is the owner of the Canal Street Laundry, sure an’ you must have heard of him.’ She began folding her parcel of sheets rapidly as though in fear of her very life.
The door opened and a tall man with greying hair came into the long room. He wore an overcoat that reached almost to his ankles and around his neck was a bright silk scarf. As he drew nearer, Mali could see that his moustache was neatly waxed and his eyes were twinkling, he did not seem at all like the ogre she had been expecting.
He moved around the tables, speaking to one girl and then another and each of them bobbed him a curtsey. Mali bit her lip as Big Mary led him across the room, hoping that she would not be all fingers and thumbs.
‘This is our new girl, Mali Llewelyn, Mr Waddington.’ Big Mary spoke deferentially. ‘I think she is going to be very good once she gets the hang of things.’
‘Fine, just fine.’ Mr Waddington scarcely looked at her and Mali felt a sense of disappointment as he passed her by and moved on to the next circle of waiting girls.
‘I don’t know what the fuss is all about,’ she whispered to Katie. ‘He’s just an old man, that’s all.’
‘Maybe so,’ Katie replied, ‘but he could buy and sell half the town if he so wished, he’s so rich that his cellar is filled with gold so I’ve heard.’
Mali heaved a sigh of relief when Mr Waddington at last disappeared down the stairs. ‘How often does he come round inspecting the laundry?’ she asked and Katie bit her finger thoughtfully.
‘About once a month, I suppose, to be sure I’m not that certain but he’s always very nice to us, gives us a gift at Christmas an’ all. Last time I got a silk scarf and a blue ribbon but then I think Mr Waddington tells Big Mary to buy for us and she picks out what she thinks we’d like.’
It seemed as though the entire laundry was upset by the visit of the owner, for several minutes after he’d gone there was a babble of voices as the girls vyed with each other, each claiming that Mr Waddington had given them more attention than anyone else. Mali wrapped her linen carefully, quicker now at the tricky knots, feeling only an impatience to get home and fall into a chair and rest. Not that there was much chance of that, she thought ruefully, there was a great deal of ironing to be done as well as some mending.
Aggie from the boilerhouse came to the door of the long room, her sleeves rolled above her elbows and her arms and hands red from the steam. She looked round truculently, her clay pipe clamped between her lips. After a moment, she removed the pipe, gesturing with it towards Mali.
‘Hey you, new girl, you’ve to make tea for the boss, and quick about it.’
Mali looked at her in bewilderment. ‘Me?’ she asked pointing to herself, and the woman nodded vigorously.
‘Yes, you who let the boiler go out, come on, there’s no good to be gained by keeping the boss waiting.’
Katie gave her a gentle push ‘Go on, you’ll see a small building out in the yard, that’s the office. It’s there you’ll be making the tea, you’ll do just fine so don’t go worrying.’
Mali hurried down the stairs and out into the coldness of the early afternoon sunshine that was still pale but offering, in its slanting rays of brightness, a promise that spring was on the way.
At the same time that Mali was crossing the yard of the Canal Street Laundry, Will Owens was leaving the gates of the Richardson Copper Company, his shift over for the day. His arms ached as though a fire burned in his muscles, his face was caked with particles of copper dust and his throat was dry. The jug of brown ale he’d drunk while on shift had only whetted his appetite for more and so he turned his footsteps towards the harbour and the welcoming open doors of the Cape Horner.
He was not in a very good frame of mind for Sterling Richardson had been round spying again, watching his every move, treating him as though he were some ignorant child with a snotty nose. Will prided himself on his physical strength, he knew he could whip young Mr Richardson to a pulp if it came to a fist fight. But that was not the style of the gentry, they preferred to wound with words and looks, giving out disdain and expecting gratitude in return.
The public was crowded and Will made his way to the bar, shouldering men aside, eager to slake the thirst that was clawing at him like a tiger. He had worked long and hard, on shift at first light, ladling molten copper until the veins stood out proud on his arms and neck and for what? For the benefit of the uppity Richardson family who weren’t even Welsh, damn them.
He took his mug of ale and sat near the open fire that roared in the huge grate, oblivious to the man slumped on the oak settle beside him. He took a huge draught of beer and enjoyed the feeling of it trickling down the back of his throat.
‘Been working the copper?’ The man at his side leaned forward, lean face and narrow eyes in a ferrety face, turned towards him. Will nodded.
‘Aye but what’s it got to do with you?’ He did not feel in the mood for friendly conversation but the man at his side was persistent.
‘Used to work for the copper company myself until that bastard Richardson saw fit to dismiss me.’
Will was suddenly interested. ‘Is that so, what work did you do?’ He eyed the man who was perhaps a year or two older than himself, a dandy in a striped waistcoat and trousers to match and a topcoat of finest worsted. ‘Not at the furnace mouth, I’ll be bound.’
‘I was a chemist, Travers is the name, Glanmor Travers. What do you think of your new young boss then?’
Will spat in the sawdust on the floor. ‘Don’t give a cuss for him,’ he said flatly.
Travers smiled
slowly. ‘Then we’ve something in common.’ He lit a cigar and puffed out the fragrant smoke, watching as it spiralled up towards the grimy ceiling. ‘I’ve seen you here before,’ he remarked. ‘Thought you looked like a well set up chap and one with a bit of sense in your head, how’s about we get together, see if we can’t do Mr Sterling Richardson a disfavour?’
‘What would you have in mind?’ Will concealed his eagerness.
Travers shrugged. ‘As yet, nothing very concrete.’ His slow, somewhat unpleasant smile appeared again. ‘But just give it time, I’m sure I can come up with something.’
‘Right you are.’ Will slammed his mug on the table top in front of him, staring meaningfully at its emptiness.
‘Like another?’ Travers asked obligingly, and holding up his hand snapped his fingers in the air.
The landlord appeared at his side as if by magic, leaning over Travers and rubbing his hands against his apron. ‘What can I get for you sir?’ he asked and Travers pointed to the mug.
‘More ale for my friend here and a hot toddy for me. Have something yourself, Landlord.’
It was easy to see why Travers was fawned upon, Will mused, if a man had money to throw around it was no wonder he had people like the landlord of the Cape Horner at his beck and call. But Travers would find he could not buy Will, not for a king’s ransom. Yet though he did not trust the ferret-faced chemist, he was instinctively drawn to him for here was another who shared his resentment of Sterling Richardson. He decided that for the moment, he would play a waiting game, see what transpired. In the meantime it would do no harm to keep in the man’s good books.
‘The next round is on me,’ he said picking up his full mug of ale and drinking thirstily. ‘There seems to be quite a lot for us to talk about.’
Travers was looking at him as though he could see right through him and that disconcerted Will. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
