The Miner's Wife

by Diane Allen

  ‘Well, that’s your cow bought. And the fell pony won’t cost a lot. We’ll have to try that again – looking like a newly married couple, folk have sympathy for us.’ Meg giggled.

  ‘Aye, it seemed to work.’ Jack went quiet as he strode out in the quest for the dark-looking pony that Meg had spotted, but admired the dappled white horse next to it. ‘I’d rather have the dapple, Meg. That pony looks as if it’s been a pit pony, and its knees will not be in good shape.’ He ran his hand along the dapple’s withers and looked at its teeth. ‘Aye, this one’s for me, she’s got a bit more spirit. Here, mate, how much will you take for the dapple?’ Jack shouted at the horse dealer.

  ‘More than you can afford, lad. She’s a bonny horse, is that ’un.’ The dealer came over and looked at Jack and Meg. ‘She’s a guinea. She’s got to be that, because I paid a lot for her myself.’

  ‘Oh God, that’s nearly all of my brass spent, and I wanted to treat you to dinner and perhaps buy that cage of hens, and then we’d have eggs.’ Jack rubbed his head and looked at Meg.

  ‘Hens should come first, Jack. We couldn’t live off a horse.’ Meg pretended to look down on the idea of being able to afford both.

  ‘I’ll knock a shilling off – that’ll buy you your hens,’ the dealer said, and rubbed his chin.

  ‘Aye, that would help. What do you think, Meg, should we buy her?’ Jack smiled at his accomplice in crime.

  ‘Yes, let’s, but I still like the little pony, and she’ll be cheaper.’ Meg ran her hand along the small black pony and smiled at the dealer.

  ‘Two shillings. I’ll knock you two shillings off my asking price, but that’s my last offer,’ he said and held out his hand to be shaken.

  ‘Done – the bonny lass has a new home.’ Jack shook the hand of the dealer and turned his dwindling money out of his pocket to pay him. ‘We’ll pick her up in a little while. She’s got a halter, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Aye, and I suppose you’ll want that in with the deal?’ The dealer shook his head as he passed Jack his change.

  ‘That would be grand.’ Jack smiled and walked away with his arm through Meg’s, towards a stall that was selling pies. ‘I know I promised dinner in the Buck, but if you can make do with a mutton pie, I can actually buy that crate of hens. And then we can get back home. It’s a fair walk from here to Muker, with a cow to herd.’

  ‘That will do me fine. I’m just glad you have got what you wanted.’ Meg smiled as Jack bought two mutton pies from a stall that was covered with home baking and passed her one to eat. ‘Last time I was here, Sam was alive and I had such a good day with Peggy Dobson. It doesn’t seem five minutes ago, and yet so much has happened since.’ She looked down over the market and the village green, then above the houses of the small market town to the rolling dales in front of her. The leaves on the trees had now turned fully and the browns and oranges of autumn were starting to be shed onto the earth below.

  ‘I know, it’s been a tough year. But every year is a battle over here. You’ll never be a millionaire, if you work in the mines or have a smallholding here, but as long as you survive, that’s the main thing.’ Jack wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve and waited until Meg had finished her pie. ‘Come on, cheer up. Let’s get that crate of hens – they can go over Dapple’s back and you can lead her while I drive Daisy.’ He laughed.

  ‘Dapple, that isn’t much of a name for your horse! Surely you can do better than that?’ Meg looked at Jack and smiled.

  ‘You name her then. Make one up on our way home.’ Jack turned and looked at Meg and wished, not for the first time, that his small farm could be home to Meg. But perhaps he was asking too much; he was just a friend, in her eyes, and he would never ever be able to compete with the ghost of his brother, Sam.

  ‘I will – anything but Dapple!’ Meg exclaimed. ‘But I suppose we had better stick with Daisy, for the cow.’ She grinned at Jack. For the first time in days she felt content; the hurt and pain were slowly subsiding and she was enjoying Jack’s company. ‘Come on, let’s get these hens and then walk back. I’d like to see this farm that you’ve rented.’

  ‘You’ll be impressed, I’ll tell you that. I know I was. I only hope I can make it pay.’ Jack walked beside Meg and looked at her. He was going to enjoy showing her his new home and walking down the dale with her by his side. It might be autumn, with the leaves turning and a bite in the air, but in his heart it felt like spring, regardless of the recent death of his brother.

  It had been a long walk from Reeth to where Jack’s new home was, and Meg was thankful when they turned up the winding path that led to the long, whitewashed ancient farmhouse. It was low-set, with four windows upstairs and three downstairs, balanced in the middle by a slate-roofed porch to shelter callers from the wild weather.

  ‘Oh, this is a lovely place, Jack. Just look at the view!’ Meg stood at the garden gate of The Rash and looked down the length of Swaledale. ‘It reminds me of home.’ She breathed in and stood in awe of Jack’s new property. ‘The house will be lovely too, once it’s been shown a bit of love and attention. Your mother will soon be able to do that, if she changes her mind. Anyway, I’m sure she will help you.’

  ‘Nay, I don’t think she will. She’s a stubborn old bugger when she wants to be. What do you think of the garden? Look at the damson and apple trees, they are both covered with fruit. I’ll turn the garden over this next spring and plant potatoes, cabbage and suchlike. I should want for nothing.’ Jack looked over his kingdom and felt a sense of pride. Gone were all thoughts of America. He could hopefully make a good life for himself right here.

  ‘It’s grand, and it’s the one thing I’ve missed while being over here – my garden. But I haven’t had much spare time on my hands anyway, and I’ll be returning home at the end of next month.’ Meg lowered her head. She was ready for home, but part of her would always lie in Swaledale now.

  ‘Come and have a look inside. It needs a lot doing to it. But I’ll soon clean it up – a drop of whitewash on the walls, and some new cupboard doors and that.’ Jack opened the front door and watched as Meg looked round the empty living room of the old farmhouse. ‘I’ll soon shift them crows that have nested down the chimney; they’ll be needing fresh homes next spring.’ He pointed at the mess of twigs and soot that had fallen into the hearth of the old fireside range. ‘You know, I’ll miss you when you return home. Do you think your parents would mind if I visited you?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘I’m sure – now that they think you farm, and because you saved them from life with an impostor – they would not mind in the least.’ Meg smiled at Jack and was pleased to hear that he wanted to remain friends, once she returned home. ‘But now I’m going to have to go. The nights are drawing in, and it will take me an hour to get back home.’

  ‘It won’t if I take you home on Dapple. I can show her to my mother.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about Dapple. Why don’t you call her Rosie, because her muzzle is almost rose-pink and she is so beautiful? A ride home on her would save my legs, and I’d quite like that. Have you a saddle, or are we going bareback?’ She blushed.

  ‘Rosie, it is. And I’m afraid it is bareback – you’ll have to hang onto me tight.’ Jack looked at Meg; she’d made his day complete by accepting.

  ‘Right then, let’s go. And I hope Rosie doesn’t mind two passengers on her back.’

  As they trotted downhill among the golden leaves and branches of the autumn trees and followed the river into Gunnerside, they held one another close on Rosie’s back. The setting sun shone and glistened on the flowing waters of the Swale, and there was a knowing silence between them that their friendship was growing, despite it being born of grief. Winter was on its way, but there was a warmth in both their hearts, although neither of them dared admit it to the other. It would be wrong, so soon after the death of someone they were both so close to.

  ‘So you are back?’ Harry met Meg in the shop’s doorway. ‘I’m glad you’ve made it back before
nightfall, else I’d have been worrying.’

  ‘It might have taken me that long, if Jack hadn’t have brought me home on the back of his horse. We soon made it back into Gunnerside from his farm, and now he’s showing his mother the horse. It’s a grand place that he’s got, Uncle Harry. I think he will do well.’ Meg beamed as she took off her shawl and bonnet and made for the back room.

  ‘Er . . . before you go in there, Megan, there’s something I need to tell you.’ Harry caught her arm and looked serious.

  Meg looked at him and feared more bad news. He never called her ‘Megan’ as a rule, so it must be something of importance that he had to announce. She felt slight panic and wondered if she had done something wrong or if someone was ill.

  ‘Lizzie is still here. She’s not going home this evening, so I thought it only fair to warn you. But the reason she’s staying is that I’ve done the decent thing by her and asked her to marry me. I’ve proposed!’ Harry looked at Meg with a face filled with happiness, but at the same time with concern.

  ‘That’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you both.’ Meg smiled and wondered whether to give the old man a kiss on the cheek, but thought better of it.

  ‘Aye, well, folk have been talking. And I know there’s no fool like an old fool, but you’ve to grab love when you find it. And the long winter nights on my own will be lonely, once you’ve gone back home.’ Harry gave a soft, gentle smile and squeezed Meg’s arm as they both walked into the back room, where Lizzie was sitting next to the fire, already part of the fixtures and fittings of the living quarters, with her knitting on the go.

  ‘So, he’s told you? He’s worried all afternoon about telling you, and that I was to stay the night.’ Lizzie glanced up from her knitting and looked at the young lass in front of her.

  ‘Yes, he’s told me, and I think it’s wonderful. I’m glad that you’ve got one another. Congratulations! I hope you will both be happy.’ Meg smiled at the red-faced Lizzie.

  ‘Aye, it’ll be strange. I’m going to sell my boarding house in Reeth and move in with the old devil.’ She pulled a face at Harry as he sat down next to her. ‘Someone’s got to keep him in line, once you’ve gone home, and he’ll need something to keep him warm on a winter’s night.’ Lizzie chuckled, while Harry squirmed slightly in his chair.

  ‘Yes, he’ll need somebody to help him in the shop,’ Meg said diplomatically as she made herself a cup of tea. ‘I’ll go up to my room and leave you two to it. I don’t want to be in your way.’

  ‘You’ll not be in our way, lass. We are not exactly in the full bloom of youth, not like yourself. Now, I hope you had a good day with that Alderson lad. He behaved himself, did he?’ Harry looked at Meg and saw her blush.

  ‘Yes, he was the perfect gentleman. He bought a cow, a horse and six hens. And next week he’s going to be looking for some furniture and then he will be moving in.’ Meg stopped in the doorway that led upstairs.

  ‘Well, he needn’t look so far for furniture. I’ve no need for half of mine if he gives me a good enough price, and I’ll sell him whatever he wants. I’ll not be needing all that stuff at my boarding house, when I come to live here. After all, there’s not enough room to swing a cat in this little back room, and the bedrooms are going towards getting full already.’ Lizzie looked at Meg. ‘You tell him that, next time you see him, and tell him to come down in the next week or two to take his pick. It’ll be grand to think that it’s going towards setting up a new home and helping somebody.’ Lizzie put her head down and continued with her knitting.

  ‘I will do. That’s very kind of you. I’m sure Jack will appreciate it. I will go upstairs now, though. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Goodnight,’ Meg said as she climbed the stairs slowly and went into the privacy of her bedroom, lighting the bedside light before lying down on her bed. She gazed up at the ceiling, and at the shadows made by the small paraffin light as it flickered in the evening’s cold air. She hugged her pillow to her and stifled her crying, as she thought of Sam and of the day that she felt so guilty about enjoying with his brother, Jack.

  But the tears were not only in remembrance of Sam; they were for the fact that Meg was beginning to realize that within her belly a new life was forming, and that her long-awaited monthly was not going to appear. The weeks had flown by since she had lain with Sam, and now she knew that she was carrying a dead man’s child, and that she had no one to turn to for help and support.

  23

  ‘Now, tell me to mind my own business, but I couldn’t help but hear you sobbing and crying last night. You know how it is, when you are in a new bed. I couldn’t get comfortable and settle, and then I lay awake listening to you, with your heart breaking, if I heard right.’ Lizzie looked at Meg as she dusted the shop’s shelves, making use of the quiet Sunday morning. ‘You are alright, aren’t you? You look as pale as a ghost this morning. My Harry’s been looking after you?’ Lizzie held her arms out to the young frail lass and smiled.

  ‘I’m fine. I’m fine, really. I’m sorry I kept you awake. I just felt a bit low in spirits.’ Meg ignored Lizzie’s outstretched arms. She knew that if she was to be shown any kindness, she would break down and cry again.

  ‘Harry told me that you’d been courting the lad who died in the mining accident – behind his back, mind, which he wasn’t that chuffed about. But it must be hard to hide your hurt and keep it to yourself. You are bound to miss him. And sharing the day yesterday with his brother must have been hard. However, Harry says he’s not a bad lad; the better of the two, in his eyes. Perhaps it was meant to be.’ Lizzie stood next to Meg as she tried to control the tears that were quickly overtaking her. ‘Aye, lass, come here. Tell me your troubles while Harry’s out on his walk – us women have to stick together. I know what it’s like to have loved and lost, but you’ll find true love again, if that’s all your tears are for.’ She wrapped her arms around Meg, who shrank into the tenderness of the older woman’s embrace.

  ‘I don’t know what to do. I’m so frightened, and I’ve nobody to turn to,’ Meg sobbed.

  ‘Why, what’s to do, my love?’ Lizzie held Meg tightly, with her head on her shoulder, and stroked her long, dark hair. ‘Soonest said, soonest mended. Nothing will shock me. I’m too long in the tooth for anything to upset me.’

  Meg breathed in deeply, not raising her head off Lizzie’s shoulder as she confessed her situation.

  ‘I think I’m having Sam’s baby! My monthly is late, and it’s never late and I don’t know what to do.’ She buried her head in the older woman’s shoulder and sobbed, not wanting to have eye contact with the woman she hardly knew but had confessed everything to. ‘My mum and father will disown me, I know they will. And I can’t help but think I’ll end up like the woman who took both her life and her baby’s, when she jumped from off the bridge at the end of the village.’ Meg had thought about her predicament all night, and although she knew that she had blown things up out of all proportion in her own mind, she still thought there would be no love or sympathy for her at home.

  ‘Now, it’ll not come to that. I know your parents love you. Harry has said so many a time.’ Lizzie held Meg straight out in front of her. ‘Are you sure you are with child? Have you got your dates wrong, or is your monthly just late because of the upset you’ve had in your life recently?’ Lizzie looked at Meg’s paleness and knew what the answer was going to be as she shook her head.

  ‘No, I’m having a baby. I know I am,’ Meg sobbed.

  ‘Well, you won’t be the first, and you definitely won’t be the last. The question is, what are we going to do about it?’ Lizzie sighed and held Meg tightly against her. ‘There’s a woman over in Leyburn who would see you right; she’d get rid of it for you, but she might kill you in the process, the old witch. Or you’ll just have to go home and face them with the truth. It’ll be hard, but they’ll have to cope with it. I know Harry will blame himself. He realizes he should have kept a better eye on you. That’s why I’ve started to visit him now.�
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  ‘It’s not Uncle Harry’s fault. And I’m not getting rid of it.’ Meg pulled away from Lizzie and wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve. ‘I’ll go home and tell them everything. But it’s not Uncle Harry’s fault, it’s all mine. I have been stupid and easily led.’ Meg sighed. She realized now that she had not truly loved Sam, but that she had simply been infatuated with him.

  ‘Aye, well, he was known for his way with women. You were easy prey, I dare say. His brother seems to have more sense, from what I hear.’ Lizzie looked at Meg as she composed herself. ‘Now, do we tell your Uncle Harry? I can keep it a secret if you want, but it will take some explaining, why you have decided to go home all of a sudden.’

  ‘Tell me what? And why are you wanting to go home? Is it because Lizzie is going to be moving in?’ Harry stood in the doorway, after quietly making his way in through the back door, and waited to be told what had been discussed in his absence.

  Meg hung her head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I’ve let you down so much, and all you have shown me is kindness. I wish I was dead – I’ve been such a fool,’ she cried.

  ‘Will one of you tell me what’s going on, and why you two are nearly in tears?’ Harry said, and looked at both Lizzie and Meg.

  ‘She’s having a baby, Harry. She’s carrying that dead lad’s baby and she’s heartbroken, scared and not wanting to face her parents.’ Lizzie put her arm around Meg and held her tightly. ‘And she needs us both to support her, so don’t you let her down.’

  ‘Bloody hell – no wonder I’d no family of my own. They’d have sent me to my grave, if they had all been as headstrong as you, my lass. Your father will kill us all. It’ll be my fault, and I promised I’d look after you,’ Harry ranted.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I regret it all now,’ Meg cried.

  ‘It’s too bloody late now, lass. Of all the bloody lads, you’d to have your head turned by him. God help us!’ Harry turned as the shop bell rang and glared at the customer who entered. ‘Talk of the bloody Devil! I suppose you have the same intentions as your bastard of a dead brother, trailing over here at all hours to see this ’un here!’