The women yelled and cheered at the top of their voices. Harper leapt to his feet, waving his hat and grinning as Mary danced around, beaming with pleasure. ‘I declare Mrs Harper and Mr Moody to be the Poor Law Guardians for Sheepscar Ward.’ He turned to the candidates, who were shaking hands with each other. ‘As the overall winner, Mrs Harper, would you care to say a few words?’
It seemed to catch her by surprise, but she moved to the edge of the platform, trying to keep her grin in check.
‘I’m flattered,’ she said. ‘Honest, I am. Thank you, and I’ll do the best job I can, I hope you know that. It’s been a very difficult time for all the women who’ve run. Sad for some, too. But thank you to the police, who’ve done so well, to the soldiers—’ she gave a quick nod to Buckley ‘—and everyone who volunteered to help me. All of you made it possible. But the biggest thanks of all go to my daughter, Mary. She’s not seen much of me during the campaign.’ She paused for a second, peering through the crowd. ‘There she is. I ran to be a Poor Law Guardian to try and help people. But I also did it to let girls like my daughter know that the world is changing and they’ll be able to do much more. Having her gave me the desire to do that.’ Annabelle took a deep breath. ‘I think we need a celebration. Tomorrow night come round to the Victoria and have a drink. Thank you.’
‘She’s done it, hasn’t she, Da?’
‘She has,’ he agreed. ‘But we never doubted that, did we?’
Annabelle looked out of the carriage window at the North Yorkshire Moors. All the strain of the election had vanished from her face, and a smile played across her lips.
‘This was a very good idea,’ she said. ‘I’m glad you came up with it.’ Playfully, she tapped him on the arm. ‘I just wish you’d told me more than three days ago. I barely had time to pack, let alone buy anything.’
‘They have shops in Whitby, don’t they?’ Harper said.
She looked at him and shook her head. ‘Men.’
Mary knelt on her seat, nose pressed against the glass, taking it all in. It was the farthest she’d ever been from Leeds. He’d had to trace the route for her on the map, revelling in her wonder at the distance.
‘We didn’t do too badly, did we, Tom?’ Annabelle asked with satisfaction. ‘Me and Mrs Pease elected, another woman just squeezed into third place. It’s a decent start.’
‘See how you feel after you start the job in February.’
‘I’ll love it, and you know it.’
‘You’ll be busy.’
‘Nothing wrong with that,’ she told him.
The train slowed along the valley and stopped at Whitby station with a final thick hiss of steam. Harper climbed on to the platform, then helped Mary and Annabelle down the step. Five days off, all of Christmas away from Leeds. Far from Millgarth and the police.
He looked around, and saw a figure waving as she hurried down the platform. Elizabeth, looking plumper and happier than ever. The sea air must agree with her. And following, hands clasped behind his back, Billy Reed.
The women embraced, happy to see each other again, and Harper shook hands with Billy.
‘You’re looking well.’
‘So are you, Tom. Being a super seems to agree with you.’
Harper patted his stomach. ‘Not every part of it. Not enough exercise. I heard you received a commendation for that work on arresting the smugglers.’
Reed shrugged. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Ash, of course. God knows where he hears it all.’
‘I’ll arrange for your bags to be taken to the guest house. I need to go back to the station, but we can talk more tonight. You know what it’s like.’
‘Of course.’
Elizabeth took Mary by the hand, leading her outside and into the fresh sea air. Annabelle hung back, sliding her arm through his.
Elizabeth had stopped, pointing up to the headland on the other side of the bay.
‘Do you know what that is up there?’ she asked Mary.
‘It looks like a building,’ the girl said suspiciously. ‘But it’s falling down.’
‘It’s very, very old. It’s been there for hundreds of years. There’s a path that goes all the way up to it with one hundred and ninety-nine steps. We can climb it if you like and count them. Can you count that high yet?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mary replied seriously. ‘But I’ll try.’
‘Shall I tell you what else is up there?’
‘What?’
‘A gravestone with a skull and crossbones on it. Do you know what that means?’
The girl shook her head.
‘Pirates,’ Elizabeth told her in a loud whisper.
‘Really?’ Mary’s eyes grew wide.
It was going to be a good holiday, Harper decided.
AFTERWORD
I’d like to offer huge thanks to the independent academic, Vine Pemberton Joss, who sparked this book by saying, ‘Annabelle should run for office,’ then provided me with newspaper articles that became the basis for some quoted here, and gave me plenty of wonderful information. From there the book almost seemed to write itself. Any errors are mine, not hers. The Sheepscar ward is fictional.
Under the law of the time, Annabelle could run for office, to be a member of the School Board or a Poor Law Guardian. Catherine Buckton had been the first woman to hold elected office in Leeds when she was voted on to the School Board in 1873.
Long before women received any national franchise, quite a few could vote in some local elections. It was a long, slow march to some women being able to vote in parliamentary elections in 1918, then the universal franchise in 1928, but after the 1894 Local Government Act, both single and married female ratepayers of all classes could vote in local elections. Around the country, more women were voted on to School Boards and became Poor Law Guardians, often in the face of strident male opposition (and very vocal support from others). It’s a sad indictment that over a century later, women in politics, and in life, still face the same misogyny, along with threats of rape and death, and that some have been murdered as they tried to help people.
Frank Kidson was a renowned and respected Leeds folk song collector who produced several books, including his first, Traditional Tunes. He was also a historian of Leeds Pottery, and is commemorated with a blue plaque in Chapeltown, where he spent his final years.
I’m very grateful to Kate Lyall Grant, Edwin Buckhalter, and everyone at Severn House for the faith and support they’ve shown for Tom and Annabelle. Many thanks, too, to my agent, Tina Betts, and my editor, Lynne Patrick, for such excellent work. Also to Leeds Libraries, the Leeds Library, and Leeds Big Bookend for the way they get behind local authors in so many ways. Last, but certainly not least, to Penny, who offers very sound thoughts on the manuscripts as they evolve.
And, of course, thanks to all of you who read these books. I hope you enjoy this one.
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