Hannah opened her mouth to protest, but she caught Ernest’s warning shake of his head. The angry stranger brushed imaginary fluff from his jacket and strode into the room next door, followed by Mr Critchlow.
‘I’ll see you later, Francis,’ Ernest said before he hurried after them.
Spreading out the cleaned cotton fibres into a flat sheet, Millie smiled triumphantly. ‘Serves you right. You should know better than to cheek Mr Edmund.’
So, Hannah thought as she picked up the cotton he had flung at her, that was Mr Edmund Critchlow. The man she had been warned about.
A little later, Ernest Scarsfield came back alone. He stood with his arms akimbo, glancing between the two girls. ‘Now, which of you two was supposed to have scutched that piece of cotton the young master found? Come on, I want the truth.’
Hannah met his gaze fearlessly, but she said nothing.
‘It weren’t me, mester,’ Millie whined. ‘I’ve put ’er on the scutching. I’m doing the blending and the spreading now.’ She cocked her head on one side and smiled winningly at the overlooker. ‘If that’s all right with you, Mr Scarsfield. See, you ’ave to know what you’re doing with the blending, don’t you, Mr Scarsfield? We don’t want all different qualities mixed up together do we, sir?’
Shocked, Hannah gaped at the girl. Millie was lying quite blatantly. She pressed her lips together and shot the girl a vitriolic glance, but still she said not a word.
‘Hmm,’ Ernest said thoughtfully, stroking his moustache. ‘Very well then, but you’d better both mind what you’re doing. I don’t want any slacking else I’ll have to fine the pair of you.’
With a stern glance at each of them in turn, Ernest Scarsfield left the room, banging the door behind him.
Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Hannah turned on the girl. She grasped her arm and swung her round to face her. ‘Don’t you dare tell lies about me again. I don’t tell tales on others and I always tell the truth about meself. If it’d been me that’d sorted that cotton, I’d’ve owned up.’
Fear flickered in Millie’s eyes. ‘Le’ go, you’re hurting my arm. I’ll tell—’
‘No, you won’t. You hear me. You won’t tell any more tales about me – or anyone else – and if I hear you have . . .’ Her grip tightened until the girl cried out in pain. Then Hannah released her grasp, flinging Millie away from her. ‘If it’s anyone slacking around here, then it’s you.’
Hannah returned to her work. Not another word passed between them for the rest of the day. And Hannah was too angry to sing.
Sunday was the only day of the week when the mill workers were allowed any time off. The adults who worked there mostly lived locally and had the day to be with their families. They were expected to attend the Methodist service held in the schoolroom at the mill, but afterwards there was time for the younger men and women to go courting.
The apprentices, though, were still under Mr and Mrs Bramwell’s authority. They too had to attend the morning service, but afterwards there was more schooling and household tasks for them. Pauper apprentices, it seemed, had no free time at all. Even in the workhouse, Hannah thought truculently, there had been exercise time. Though they were not allowed outside the confines of the workhouse walls without permission from the master or the matron, at least all the inmates went out each day into the fresh air to walk, to chat or just to sit in the sun on warm days.
‘You know you asked me to go walking with you on Sunday afternoon?’ Hannah said to Joe as they fell into step on their way to work the following morning.
Joe grinned at her. ‘Yeah.’
‘Well – how? Or when? We don’t seem to be given any time off.’
Joe shrugged. ‘We just go.’
‘And end up in the punishment room when we get back, I suppose?’ Hannah had spent an uncomfortable night there. Given no supper, she had lain on the bare floor with only one blanket to wrap herself in. She had hardly slept and this morning she was both tired and ravenously hungry.
‘We can either sneak off after the service – there’s an hour or so before dinner – or we can go after.’
Hannah pulled a face. ‘Mrs Bramwell says she teaches the girls sewing on a Sunday afternoon.’
He grinned. ‘And that’s going to stop you?’
Hannah laughed. ‘Not really, no. I’ll risk it.’
‘Tell you what, we’ll just have a short walk between chapel and dinner.’ He winked at her. ‘Don’t want you moving into the punishment room permanently.’
Hannah pulled a face. ‘Me neither.’
Eight
‘I don’t want to come, Hannah,’ Jane said, when told of the proposed outing with Joe Hughes as they came out of the schoolroom after the service on the first Sunday morning. ‘I’m so tired I could cry.’ Indeed, tears of exhaustion filled the young girl’s eyes. ‘I just want to go home and sleep.’
‘I know.’ Hannah hugged her. ‘You go on then. I’ll wake you up for dinner when I get back.’
‘Where are you going?’ Jane asked worriedly. ‘You’ll be in trouble again.’
‘Only for a little walk. Joe’s promised to show me the waterfall behind the mill.’
Jane returned her hug fiercely. ‘You don’t mind me not coming,’ she said, her voice muffled against Hannah’s shoulder.
‘’Course not.’
They pulled apart and smiled at each other. ‘Besides,’ Jane said, coyly, ‘I think that Joe Hughes wants you to himself.’
‘Eh?’ Hannah was startled, then she laughed. ‘Don’t be silly.’
‘I’m not.’ Jane yawned, already thinking of their bed in the dormitory with longing. ‘I reckon he likes you.’
‘Don’t be daft, he . . .’ Hannah started to say, but Jane was already walking away from her, too tired to stand talking any longer.
‘There you are!’ Joe came towards her, walking with a swagger, his hands in his pockets. ‘Just walk slow, so we end up at the back. Then, when we get to the bottom of the hill, there’s a little path that runs at the back of the mill just below the cliff. If no one’s watching, we nip through there.’
Hannah nodded, her eyes shining at the thought of an hour or so of freedom.
‘Hey, Hannah, wait for us.’
‘Oh no,’ Joe muttered. ‘Not that pair.’
Hannah turned and saw Luke with Daniel trotting close behind him.
‘Off for a walk, a’yer?’
‘How did you know?’ Joe said belligerently.
‘Heard you ask her the other day.’ Luke grinned.
‘Yeah. I asked her,’ Joe glowered. ‘Not the whole blooming lot of yer.’
Hannah laughed and slipped her arm through theirs. ‘Oh, come on, let’s all go. It’s too nice a day to argue. Let’s just enjoy ourselves while we can.’
‘I’m tired, Luke,’ Daniel muttered. ‘I want to go home.’
Luke glanced at his twin. ‘All right. See you later.’
Daniel blinked. ‘What – what do y’mean?’
‘You go and have a sleep. I’m going with these.’
Daniel glanced from his brother to Hannah. He and his brother were never apart. They went everywhere together. But now, Luke was choosing the company of others rather than him. Daniel didn’t like it, and he was blaming Hannah. She could see it in his eyes.
‘All right,’ he muttered sulkily. ‘I’ll come an’ all.’
‘No, you go back if you want to—’
‘I don’t,’ he snapped back. ‘Not on me own.’
Joe was disgruntled too now. He’d wanted to walk out with Hannah on his own, not have the twins tagging along. Joe was older than the other three. At fourteen, he fancied himself old enough to start courting. He liked the look of this new girl whose blue eyes sparkled when she laughed. She’d left her long blonde hair flying loose this morning, cascading down her back in golden waves and curls that glinted in the sunlight. She was lively with boundless energy and she laughed often. And sing! He’d heard singing in the room
next door to where he worked in the carding room. In the service that morning, her voice had risen, clear and pure, above all the others. She was a bit young yet, but she’d grow, he told himself, and he reckoned she’d grow into a beauty an’ all.
‘Come on then. Here’s the path . . .’ He caught hold of Hannah’s hand and was elated at the look of fury on Luke’s face.
They skirted the base of the cliff on which the row of houses containing the school and the apprentice house stood, and came to a place where a stream ran under the path to the waterwheel, whose power turned all the machinery in the mill.
‘They call this the “head race”,’ Joe told them importantly. ‘They constructed this to run from the mill pool down to the wheel.’
Hannah’s gaze followed the line of the man-made stream that surfaced beyond the path and ran towards the paddles of the great wheel, which stuck out like sharp, hungry teeth. The wheel was silent today.
‘So how do they stop the water,’ Luke asked with boyish curiosity, ‘when the mill’s not working?’
‘There’s an iron hatch at the top of the race where it leaves the pool. When they want the wheel to work they just open the hatch. The water flows down the race to work the wheel and then it comes out the other side and flows down the tail race back into the river.’
‘But where does the water go when the hatch is closed?’ Now Daniel took up the question.
‘There’s a weir out of the pool straight back into the river. I’ll show you.’
A few paces further on they came to where the River Wye widened out into the huge lake that Joe called the mill pool. Then, walking to the left, they stood a moment on the narrow footbridge watching the white foaming water cascading over the edge of the weir and rushing on down the rocky riverbed. Ahead of them was a steep climb up rocks to the hillside above.
Joe, still holding Hannah’s hand, began to climb, pulling her after him. ‘From up here you can see all the mill and some of the village.’
They climbed, puffing and panting, until they gained a narrow path running along the hillside overlooking the mill. Far below them now, it seemed small. They walked on along the sheep tracks, climbing higher.
They stood a moment to catch their breath.
‘That way,’ Joe waved to their right, ‘is up to the Wyedale Arms.’
‘We saw that the day we came,’ Luke said.
Joe ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘And the other way,’ he pointed in the opposite direction, ‘leads to another mill about a couple of miles away.’
‘Another mill!’
‘Yeah. You can walk to it by a path on the other side of the mill pool.’ He squeezed Hannah’s hand and lowered his voice. ‘I’ll show you that another time. It’s a lovely walk by the river. Very quiet and peaceful.’ He glanced about him and then added, ‘But we ought to go back now. If we’re late for dinner, we’ll all be in trouble.’
‘Don’t expect you will be, though,’ Luke sparred. ‘Not with Mrs Bramwell, anyway.’
Colour suffused the other boy’s face. ‘Have it your own way then,’ he muttered moodily and looked directly at Hannah. ‘I was only thinking of you. You’ve been in trouble already, haven’t you?’
Hannah lifted her face to the sunshine, closing her eyes and luxuriating in the feel of the breeze on her face, rippling through her hair. ‘You’re right, Joe. But it’s so lovely out here. It’s almost worth risking a spell in the punishment room just for an hour or two of freedom.’
‘Well, I’m going back now.’ Joe let go of Hannah’s hand. ‘I don’t fancy a beating from Mr Bramwell. You lot can please yourselves.’ He thrust his hands in his pockets, turned and began to walk back the way they had come.
Worriedly, Daniel said, ‘Come on. We ought to do what he says.’
‘I’m not going back just ’cos he says so,’ Luke scoffed. ‘Come on, Hannah, let’s walk a bit further. It’s a great view from up here. Much better than walking on the road. You can see everything.’
‘I don’t think we ought to,’ Daniel murmured, frowning.
Now it was Luke who grasped her hand. ‘Well, you go, Dan. We’ll see you later,’ he called back cheerfully to his twin. Now – just as he’d wanted all along – he had Hannah to himself.
Joe Hughes had spent most of his life in the workhouse and then in the mill. Places where segregation was the rule. And although he was younger than Joe, from his early years spent on a farm Luke, even at eleven years old, probably knew more about the natural instincts of animals – and human beings – than the older boy did. And Luke’s natural instinct was to contrive to be alone with a pretty girl, to hold her hand, to put his arm around her. Even, if he was greatly daring, to kiss her.
And the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his life was walking beside him right now.
‘D’you like Joe?’ he asked her suddenly.
‘He’s all right,’ she said carefully. ‘Why? Don’t you like him?’
Luke pulled a face. ‘He’s a bit of a know-all.’
‘Well, he’s been here a few years now. I think he’s only trying to be friendly.’
‘The other lads say he’s Mrs Bramwell’s favourite.’
Hannah laughed. ‘That’s what Nell said an’ all.’
Suddenly, Luke grinned. ‘Mind you, it might do us a bit of good – to be on his right side.’
‘Oh, Luke! How could you possibly think such a thing?’ Then she giggled deliciously. ‘But you could be right.’
‘Look,’ Luke said suddenly. ‘Isn’t that the Grundys’ farm down there?’
‘I think so. Yes, it’s near the crossroads, but doesn’t it look small from up here.’ She laughed. ‘And look at the cows in the field. They look like ants.’
‘And look up there. Joe’s right, that is the Wyedale Arms where the carter dropped us off.’
‘Mm.’ Hannah’s voice was suddenly wistful. ‘I wonder,’ she began, and then stopped.
‘If you could get a lift back again one day?’
Her eyes widened. ‘How – how did you know?’
Luke’s expression softened, and he was no longer teasing as he said, ‘Because if I had a mam back there, then I’d be wanting to go back to see her sometime.’
‘You would?’ Hannah breathed.
Luke nodded. ‘And if you ever want to – really want to – then I’d help you do it.’
‘Even if . . . even if you got into trouble?’
‘It’d be worth it – for you to see your mam,’ he told her earnestly.
Hannah felt a blush creep up her neck and into her face. Tears prickled her eyelids. ‘Oh, Luke,’ was all she could say.
He squeezed her hand. ‘We’d best be getting back an’ all now. Look, there’s a path here going right down to the farm. I ’spect it’s one the sheep have worn on their way back home. Let’s follow it. We’ll go back this way. It’ll be quicker. We can run on the road.’
Feeling a thrill of daring, they followed the path down the hillside towards the river. Hand in hand they ran across the footbridge over the water and up the lane bordered by the Grundys’ farm. A man stood in the yard, watching their approach. He took his cap off, scratched his head and replaced it. He moved towards the gate and leaned on his arms on the top of it.
‘Now where’re you two off to in such a hurry? What’ve you been up to, ’cos you’ve got “guilt” written all over your faces.’
‘A’ you Mr Grundy?’ Luke said as they stopped by the gate.
‘Tha’s right. And who’re you then to know my name?’
‘Your wife was very kind to us when we arrived the other day,’ Hannah said. ‘She gave us some lovely stew.’
‘Ah,’ said the burly man as understanding dawned. ‘From mill, a’ yer?’
The two youngsters nodded.
His expression softened. ‘Out for a bit of an airing, a’ yer. ’Spect there’s not much fresh air in that place.’
‘It’s very dusty, isn’t it?’ Hannah said. ‘With all the co
tton bits floating in the air.’
The man nodded. ‘I’ll give you a tip. Whenever you wash, bathe your eyes with clean water. A lot of the youngsters get trouble with their eyes. And if they get very sore, you come and see my missis. She’ll give you some eye lotion to use, ’cos that old skinflint won’t spend an ’apenny on having a doctor visit if he can avoid it.’
‘Thank you, Mr Grundy. That’s very kind of you.’
The man smiled. ‘Coming in to see the missis, ’a you? Nice joint of lamb we’ve just had for dinner.’
The children’s mouths watered, but regretfully Hannah said, ‘That’s ever so kind of you, but we ought to get back. If we’re missed, we’ll be in trouble. And it’s the best meal of the week today. Boiled pork and potatoes.’
‘On yer go then. I’ll tell the missis I’ve seen you.’
Bidding him goodbye, Hannah and Luke began to run. They didn’t stop until they were in sight of the mill.
‘I reckon Joe and Daniel’ll both be in a huff with us.’ Luke grinned, looking not particularly bothered.
‘They’ll get over it.’ Hannah laughed. ‘At least, Daniel will. He’ll not stay mad at you for long. As for Joe – he can please himself.’
Luke felt a warm glow. When they arrived at the back door of the apprentice house breathless from running, Hannah turned to Luke.
‘That was wonderful.’ Her cheeks were pink, her bright eyes glowing and her hair flying free. Luke caught hold of her and gave her a swift, fumbling peck on the cheek.
Then, as they opened the door and burst into the kitchen, eighty or so pairs of eyes turned in their direction.
Near the range, with her hands folded and her mouth pursed, stood Ethel Bramwell. Slowly, she walked towards them. There was not a sound in the room. The children, seated on benches on either side of the four long tables, stopped eating to watch what was about to happen.
Ethel Bramwell reached them. ‘And where might you two have been when there’s work to be done? You’re not allowed out of this house without permission. You should have come straight back here after the service. Why didn’t you? I know you are both comparatively new here, but you know the rules, don’t you?’
Pauper's Gold Page 6
