by Diane Allen
Jack sat down in Harry’s usual chair next to the fire and Meg sat across from him, her eyes filled with tears. ‘It’s right then – Sam’s dead?’ she sobbed.
‘Aye, they think the silly bugger blew himself up. I bet that’s what he did. I was always telling him not to put his pipe in his pocket. I knew that one day he’d put it in the same pocket as his gunpowder, and that’s what he’s done, I bet.’ Jack tried to grin, but tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at Meg. ‘Are you alright? I take it old Harry knows, else he wouldn’t even tolerate me sitting here with you.’
‘He knows that I loved Sam, but he doesn’t know we were planning to run away together,’ Meg whispered. ‘Oh, Jack, what am I going to do?’
‘What we’ve all got to do: get on with life until it’s our turn to kick the bucket. Sam wouldn’t want to see you sad. He was a rum lad, but I think he really did love you.’ Jack held out his hand for Meg to take and lied, to give her some comfort. ‘I’m here, if you want to talk. Harry won’t like it, but he knows you’ll need somebody. After all, he’s in no position to lecture; he found comfort with Lizzie Bannister when his wife was dying. And we all need someone to turn to when times are hard.’ He smiled as Meg wiped away the tears.
‘Thanks, Jack. Have they found Sam’s body and the other two?’ Meg tried to say without crying again.
‘They have what’s left of them. The Owd Gang stick together when there’s trouble, and they’ve worked all day to get all three out. They are lying in the pumphouse up at the mine.’ Jack swallowed down a sob.
‘I need to see him. Sam can’t lie there on his own without somebody who loves him by his side,’ Meg cried.
‘No, Meg, don’t. Don’t you go near. You wouldn’t recognize what’s there as human, let alone as Sam. Remember him like he was. Remember him like the last time you saw him. I’ve told my mother the same, and she’s beside herself with grief. Sam was her favourite, although she would never admit it.’ Jack hung his head and tried to block out the terrible sight of his brother’s body – or what they thought was his body, when it had been reclaimed from the mine.
‘Oh, please give my condolences to your mother. She must, as you say, be heartbroken.’ She started to cry again and was shaking as she stood up to leave the room.
‘Meg, I’m always here for you. I’ll let you know when the funeral is. It’ll be at the chapel. Even though Sam was planning to leave Gunnerside, he would only have regretted it, as he loved this village.’ Jack stood up and watched as Meg, still crying, walked away from him and went up the stairs.
‘You’d better go now, lad. Your mother will be wanting you.’ On hearing Meg going up the stairs, Harry came into the room and looked across at Jack. ‘I was a bit hard on you when you first knocked on my door. I should have shown more sympathy. Condolences to both you and your mother. It’ll not have been good to see your brother in the state they found him. Sorry, but I listened in. I don’t want that young lass to go through any more trauma, if I can help it. Aye, and I should practise what I preach, so I can’t say to keep away from her, because Meg is going to need a friend in these coming days.’ Harry stared at the dirt-encrusted miner.
‘Thank you, Mr Battersby. I’ll be there as a friend for as long as Meg needs me. And if you decide different, then just let me know. I’ll be honest: I warned her about our Sam, but they were both too headstrong to listen to me. He wasn’t – God rest his soul – the right man for her, and I knew it.’
‘Aye, well, he’s not with us any more. And now Meg’s broken-hearted and I’ve to tell her parents why. They’ll probably want to take her back home the next time they are here. So you’ll probably not be seeing much more of her, lad.’ Harry opened the back door and showed Jack out into the darkness of the night. He shook his head as he pulled the door’s bolt across, to lock up for the night. He’d never expected all this upset when he got up this morning. God only knew what tomorrow would bring.
‘I’ve shut the shop, just for today. I think you and I need to spend some time together. I’ve not been doing right by you, leaving you to run the shop while I go gallivanting about with Lizzie. That’s how you got so involved with those Alderson lads. And now it’s ended in tears and grief. You see, we never had children of our own, so I’m at a loss about what to do with you.’ Harry looked across at the pale, drawn face of Meg. He’d got up early that morning and lit the fire himself and was now handing her a cup of tea, along with a slice of bread and marmalade for her breakfast.
Meg shook her head as he pushed the plate of buttered bread in her direction. She didn’t feel like eating. She felt hollow and empty, but sickly at the same time, and all she wanted to do was lie on her bed and cry. ‘It isn’t your fault, Uncle Harry. I knew Sam and Jack even before I set foot in Swaledale. We first met at a dance in Hawes, and my parents warned me even then not to set my cap at Sam or Jack, but I couldn’t help myself.’ She sipped her tea, her hands shaking as she confessed all to Harry. ‘I’ve brought this on myself. They told me not to get involved with Sam, and now look what it’s brought about. He’s dead and I’m heartbroken.’
‘Aye, well, these things happen. Now, what am I to do with you? I think you are best off going back home with your parents this coming Thursday. Get you out of this dale and back where you belong. I’ve enjoyed having you staying with me, but I’ve not got eyes in the back of my head to watch you all the time. And I doubt it will take long before Sam is forgotten and some other lad comes a-calling on you. Besides, we said that you’d be home for winter.’
‘Please. Please don’t send me away. Not before the funeral. And when it comes to seeing other men, I don’t think I’ll ever love anybody ever again. Please don’t tell my parents; they’d only worry and insist that I did come home. My heart is here now, and always will be. Wherever Sam’s body is, I’ve got to be near it,’ Meg sobbed.
‘Nay, I should tell your mother and father – they’ve a right to know. Besides, they’ll hear about it and want to know what’s gone on. And I can’t see you being able to tell them without tears.’ Harry rubbed his head and watched as the young lass in front of him broke down yet again. ‘Aye, lass, I don’t know what to do with you. Only time mends a broken heart, I should know that. Time and the love of good folk, and you’ve enough of those around you, especially if you go home.’ He sighed.
‘I don’t want to go home just yet. Please let me stay until after the funeral, and then you can tell them everything. I must see Sam buried,’ Meg cried.
‘We’ll see, lass. I suspect he’ll be buried before Thursday anyway, so you’ll see Sam put into the ground. There will be a lot shedding tears this morning, especially the mother of that li’l lad; he’d not seen anything of life, poor devil.’
Harry got up and cleared the kitchen table while Meg stared into the fire, rocking herself gently to control her grief.
‘The bloody weather isn’t likely lifting anybody’s spirits – look at it! It couldn’t rain any harder if it tried. If it doesn’t brighten up, I’m going to have to light an oil lamp to be able read my paper.’
‘I don’t care if it pours down forever. Sunshine is no friend of mine,’ Meg said quietly, remembering Sam’s smiling face as they lay together on the dry bank of the fellside, with the turning leaves of the tree above them.
‘You’ll not feel like that forever. Something or somebody will come along and, before you know it, you’ll struggle even to remember his face.’ Harry turned and looked at Meg. ‘I loved my Mary, but she was in so much pain, I just wanted her life to end, so that she was free. And I know I shouldn’t even have looked at Lizzie, but life has to go on and you’ve to grab happiness when it comes along. It’s what Mary would have wanted, and it’s what Sam would want for you. Think of the future, Meg. You’ve all your life in front of you. It might look dark now, like those rain clouds outside, but even they will give way to sunshine sometime.’
‘I don’t think they ever will for me, Uncle Harry,’ Meg whispered.
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‘They will, lass, they will.’
The rain poured down all weekend. It matched Meg’s mood as she thought of the plans of eloping that she and Sam had hatched together, knowing now that they would never come to fruition, as she stared out of her bedroom window at the mist and rain hanging around the fell of Whitaside. It was still raining when Jack knocked on the back door of the shop on Monday. He was sodden to the skin, and the rain dripped off his hat as he spoke to Harry, before being invited into the back room.
‘Meg’s upstairs, lad. I’ll call her. She’s in a bit of a way with herself. I’ve looked after the shop, as she’s been in no fit state to serve folk.’
‘I’ve come to tell her the funeral’s on Wednesday at eleven. I bloody hope the weather eases. They are starting to dig the grave now, and it’s a worthless job in these conditions.’ Jack took his hat from his head and shook it free of most of the rain, before standing next to the fire to dry out.
‘Meg, Jack’s here. Come down, lass, and hear what he’s got to say,’ Harry shouted up from the bottom of the stairs and then went back to Jack, shaking his head. ‘I can make nowt of her. I’ve told her she’d be better off at home than moping around here. Anyway, her father and mother will be here on Thursday – they’ll see to her.’ Harry stopped talking as Meg came into the room.
‘I’m here, so you can stop whispering about me. Now, did I hear you say the funeral’s on Wednesday?’ Meg looked up at Jack. Her face was ashen and her eyes were red and sore from crying.
‘Aye, at eleven. They bury Bob and the young lad on the same day in the afternoon at Reeth.’ Jack glanced at Meg. ‘Are you alright? Will you be going to the funeral? I can call for you, if you like?’ He stood awkwardly as Meg fought back the tears.
‘I’ll go with her, Jack. You look after your mother, as she’ll be in need of your arm that day. Who would have thought, when they built that chapel a few years back, there would be so many we know in its yard already. No doubt I’ll end up there eventually, alongside my Mary. Although I don’t aim to be there quite yet – nor should you two, at the age you both are,’ Harry said quietly as he watched Meg compose herself.
‘Yes, I’ll go with Uncle Harry. Your mother will need you, Jack. Besides, it looks better that way. And Wednesday will probably be my last day in Swaledale, as my parents will probably want to take me home, once Uncle Harry has spoken to them.’ Meg sniffled and then held her head high. ‘Is your mother alright? Is she coping?’
‘Yes, she seems at peace with herself. She keeps saying that Sam shone too bright to be on this earth long, and in all honesty I think she may be right. He was always the one full of life, and I just tagged along.’ Jack sniffed and looked down at his feet.
‘And you, lad? Are you alright?’ Harry asked, showing concern for the tall, dark, quiet lad who stood in front of them both.
‘You have to be, haven’t you? Bawling and crying isn’t going to bring him back. But I tell you one thing: I don’t think I can work at them mines again. I’m going to see what I can do with the money I’ve saved, and get away from here.’ Jack looked at Meg.
‘You wouldn’t leave your mother behind, would you?’ Meg gasped.
‘No. I did have plans of making a new life in America, as they are crying out for young fellas like me, but now I’ll settle for something a bit nearer and take my mother with me.’ Jack watched Meg as she sighed and sniffed yet again.
‘Aye, well, I don’t blame you, lad. Those mines maim many a man; that is, if they don’t take a life, like your poor brother’s. You find something that’s not as rough, although you’ll probably have to leave this dale.’ Harry looked at the lad, who was obviously not as hard as his brother had been, and felt sorry for him.
‘Well, I’ll away now. I don’t like leaving my mother for too long, and the nights are beginning to draw in, especially in this weather.’ Jack put on his hat and looked at Meg. ‘I’ll see you on Wednesday. I don’t expect there will be many at the funeral – mainly lads from the Owd Gang. Sam wasn’t exactly popular.’
Meg nodded her head and watched as Jack went out into the dusk of the evening.
‘You alright?’ Harry asked gently, as Meg sat down in the chair next to the fire.
‘Yes. Like Jack says, I have to be. I’m not the first to lose someone they loved, and I’ll not be the last.’ Meg gazed into the fire; her heart ached, but she had to be strong.
The wet weather had not abated as Meg, Harry and their fellow mourners stood around Sam’s grave in the chapel graveyard, their heads bowed in reverence as the preacher committed Sam to a life eternal and his coffin was lowered into the slightly waterlogged grave. The rain mixed with Meg’s tears as she threw a handful of soil onto the coffin and gazed down at his last resting place. Sam’s mother and brother stood, dressed in black and drenched to their skins, his mother sobbing as the last words were said over the body. She looked up and smiled wanly at Meg, knowing that she too must be grieving over Sam. But neither Jack nor Betty said anything as they turned away from the graveside, leaving Sam’s workmates from the Owd Gang paying their respects.
‘There now, lass, that’s him gone now – let’s hope to a better place.’ Harry linked his arm through Meg’s and walked her down the flagged pathway to the road. ‘You’ve seen him off, and now we’ll get back home. There’s no funeral tea planned, but his mates will no doubt drink his health in the King’s Head. It’s their way of seeing him off.’
Meg said nothing, but shivered with the wet and the cold and wished she was dressed in black, instead of the darkest dress she could find that she had brought with her from home. Her heart ached and she wished she could join Sam in the grave beside him, as life would hold no meaning for her any longer.
‘Let’s get you home and both of us out of these wet things. Else we will be to bury and all.’ Harry looked in front of him along the road and saw Jack and his mother making their way beside Gunnerside Gill back to their home, as they themselves walked over the small bridge past the King’s Head and into the shop. It had been a sad funeral, and not the usual turnout. Folk had long memories when it came to locals being wronged, and nobody other than Sam’s immediate family and Meg – and perhaps one or two members of the Owd Gang – was going to mourn the passing of Sam Alderson. What he was to do with Meg, and what to tell her parents in the morning, Harry did not know. Perhaps the Lord would give him guidance, he thought, as he opened the door of the back room and watched as Meg went upstairs to change out of her wet clothes.
She climbed the stairs and went into her bedroom, her stomach churning with pent-up anxiety, and tears ran down her cheeks as she stood at her bedroom window. She could just see the chapel yard from where she stood and she leaned against the window, her fingers touching the windowpane as she whispered, ‘I’ll not leave you, Sam. I’ll always be here and I’ll always love you.’
20
‘Is this weather never going to change?’ Harry stood in the shop’s doorway and looked down the street. The houses were grey and sodden, and the fellside was alive with streams and tributaries gushing down towards a full River Swale. ‘I don’t think your lot will be coming today, lass, not if they have any sense.’ Harry breathed in deeply. ‘Even I’m housebound, as it’s too wet to go and see Lizzie in Reeth. Anyway, I need to speak to your mother and father and see what we’ve to do with you, if they turn up.’
‘There’s no need to speak to them about me. I’ve realized that life goes on and that it’s no good moping. Besides, everybody knew Sam was a bad lot, so happen it was meant to be.’ Meg pulled a face, hiding her true feelings about Sam’s death. She’d no intention of going home, just yet. In fact, she’d no intention of ever returning home while Sam’s body lay in Gunnerside chapel’s graveyard. She had to say what her uncle wanted to hear from her, to enable her to stay in Swaledale.
‘By gum, thou’s a fickle one. Yesterday you were bawling and crying at his graveside, and now it’s as if he meant nothing to you. What’s brou
ght this on? Have you realized Sam was leading you on?’ Harry walked over to the counter and looked at Meg as she leaned on her elbows, waiting for a customer to come in out of the rain.
‘That’s it – he was. I thought things over in my head last night, and Jack has been right all along about his brother. Sam cared for nobody, and I shouldn’t have wasted my time on him.’ Meg put her head down and pretended to be tidying the drawer under the counter, which held numerous items that made the shop work, all the while feeling guilty about lying.
‘Well, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I never thought much of either lad, but Jack seems to be the sensible one, now that I’ve had something to do with him. I hope he gets his farm – it’ll be better for him, and his mother, in the long run.’ Harry looked around the dark shop; the weather outside did nothing for his spirits and he knew there would be worse to come, once winter set in. ‘By God, I wish it was a bit brighter, I can’t do with these dark days. These dales houses are set to keep the weather out, which is grand, but they don’t let a lot of light in. And on a day like today, with the weather like it is and no customers, I could feel low myself. I’ll need some company this winter if I’ve to keep sane, as I hate those long months.’
‘Well, I don’t have to go back home. My father’s got a replacement for me in Dan, or at least that’s what it sounds like, when Dan talks. Although I would like to go home to celebrate Christmas, as that is where I really need to be.’ Meg perked up.
‘Now, don’t you get any ideas that you may be staying, just because I don’t like being by myself. You stepped out of your traces before and didn’t do as you were told, when it came to that Sam. How do I know you won’t do it again?’ Harry looked at her sternly.
