A Foreign Shore

by Catrin Collier

  ‘Mine will be simple but that’s how I want it.’

  ‘Mine to Peter was hardly elaborate as we were both working in the hospital that night, but I think Mrs Ignatova is as excited as Ruth and Alexei about theirs. Although Alexei insists he wants a quiet ceremony, I doubt Hughesovka will allow it to be.’

  ‘It’s difficult to organise a celebration when you work in a place that has to be kept open, like the hospital, but once Vasya has settled in, she’ll invite you and some of the staff to our home for a meal.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it and I’m sure the others will. Don’t worry about the hospital this evening or tomorrow. Enjoy your wedding. I’m on night shift and I’ll stay here until you get back. My very best wishes, Nathan, to you and your bride.’

  She kissed his cheek and left the office. She felt there was something odd about Nathan’s marriage. He hadn’t even smiled when he’d mentioned Vasya’s name. Ruth had told her arranged marriages were common in the shtetl and for most Jews, love came after, not before the wedding. Was she so addicted to romance that she’d seen love between Nathan and Sonya where there was only friendship?

  Underground, Three Firs Mine

  June 1871

  Richard was in a daze. The world seemed strangely muffled and intensely black. His mouth and nose were packed with dry, suffocating dust. He coughed in an effort to expel it. Faint, dizzy, the darkness gradually became tinged with red as he lay limp and helpless on what felt like a bed of rubble.

  Strong hands hauled him upright. A shower of rocks and small coal clattered around him. Someone thumped him hard between his shoulder blades, forcing thick, dense air into his lungs.

  ‘Don’t go dying on me, boy.’

  ‘Alf?’ He’d meant to say the name out loud but couldn’t hear his voice. He sensed movement. Lights flickering. A lamp swung in front of his eyes.

  ‘Dear God and all that’s holy!’ Alf exclaimed.

  A solid cliff of coal loomed over them. A minute passed before Richard realised he was no longer deaf.

  Cage, Underground, Three Firs Mine,

  June 1871

  Halfway down the shaft the cage began to judder and shake violently. John held up his lamp but the beam failed to penetrate the swirling particles that clogged the atmosphere. A thud that sent him and Glyn reeling against the wooden bars of the cage suggested they’d hit the bottom of the shaft, although the cage was perched sideways.

  Glyn lifted the bar. ‘Step carefully, sir; we’re on a pile of slag, not firm ground.’

  John clambered over a heap of debris and blocks of coal. He lost his balance and slithered helplessly on to his back when he hit a river of slippery dust. He heard stones rattle and realised Glyn had fallen behind him.

  ‘Sirs! Look to your right.’

  John recognised Alf’s voice. Lights wavered dimly, almost obscured by dust.

  ‘Boss … Boss …’

  Miners surged forward heading for him and Glyn. Desperately trying to gain a purchase on the scree, John struggled to his knees.

  ‘Looks like the seam I was telling you about collapsed, sir.’ Glyn spoke low close to John’s ear but his voice was distorted as if they were under water. John saw a silhouette he recognised as Richard holding out a lamp and inching towards the fall. Glyn scrambled alongside him. The Russian miners gathered around them.

  ‘Your Excellencies,’ Yuri, the foreman Glyn had appointed on Praskovia’s recommendation, hailed them. ‘I’ve done a head count. Twelve men are this side of the fall, four hurt.’

  ‘Badly?’ John asked.

  ‘They have broken bones. They’re all conscious. Two men are dead and twenty missing.’

  ‘Under the fall or on the other side,’ Glyn asked.

  ‘That’s for us to find out, sir.’ Alf cleared a flat area and set down his lamp. ‘I need tools and all the able-bodied men capable of digging.’

  ‘Yuri, take two men and begin loading the cage with the injured. Get them to the surface. Two injured and one able-bodied man to a cage,’ John ordered.

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’ Yuri ran.

  Hospital, Hughesovka

  June 1871

  ‘How many are injured?’ Sarah asked the miner Alexei had sent to the hospital.

  ‘I don’t know, Matron. All I know is Mr Alexei Beletsky told me to come here and ask the doctor to go to the mine with as many troikas as can be spared.’

  ‘Richard …’

  ‘I don’t know anything except what I’ve told you, Matron.’

  Nathan overheard him. ‘Go to Madam Ignatova’s in the Dower House. You know the Dower House?’

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’

  ‘Tell Madam Ignatova to send as many carriages as she can spare to the Three Firs mine. Then go to the company offices and tell them to get messages to all the pits. Mr Hughes may need help if men are trapped and they should prepare teams of miners in case they’re needed. Go, as quickly as you can. Lives may depend on your speed.’

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’ Bursting with self-importance the man ran out of the door.

  ‘You stay here,’ Nathan said to Sarah. ‘I’ll go to the pithead with Miriam and Rivka. The way you’ve trained the girls, they’re almost as good as you, and that will leave you with enough staff to prepare the operating theatre and make up extra beds. You’d better send to the Dower House and ask Ruth to return.’

  ‘She was on night shift. I’ll wait until we need her.’

  ‘You’re right, it may take some time to get the men out.’

  Anna charged towards them. ‘Richard …’

  Sarah grasped her shoulders. ‘No one knows anything as yet. It might be better if Anna goes with you, Rivka, and Miriam.’ she suggested.

  ‘Richard could be involved.’

  ‘If he is, Anna is professional enough to treat him as she would any other patient,’ Sarah interceded, knowing Anna would be no use whatsoever in the hospital if she was worrying about Richard. ‘But the hospital …’

  ‘Is as safe in your hands as mine, Matron.’

  ‘What if there’s an emergency?’

  ‘You’ll deal with it and admirably.’ He went to the office to fetch his bag. When he emerged, he said, ‘Send a messenger to the Goldbergs in the shtetl, please. Tell him to give the Goldbergs my apologies and explain that under the circumstances I’ll have to delay the wedding.’

  Three Firs Mine

  June 1871

  Alexei ran over to the cage as soon as it surfaced. ‘Mr Richard Parry? Mr Hughes, Mr Edwards?’ he demanded of the miner Yuri had put in charge of the injured men.

  ‘Are unhurt, Your Excellency, thanks be to Christ. They’re trying to rescue the men who are trapped.’

  ‘Carry these men into the shed – carefully,’ Alexei added, when a surface worker grabbed one of the men’s shoulders roughly.

  Vlad drove up in the hospital troika. Anna, Rivka, and Miriam were wedged in the back, surrounded by packages. Nathan was sitting alongside Vlad in the front. As soon as Vlad reined in the horses, Nathan lifted out his bag and climbed from the carriage.

  Anna ran to Alexei. ‘Richard …’

  ‘Alive, and directing operations below ground with Mr Hughes and Mr Edwards,’ he assured her.

  Nathan looked into the shed. ‘Lay a sheet on the floor in here,’ he called to Anna. ‘Set the injured on it,’ he ordered Alexei who followed Anna in.

  ‘We need boiling water.’ Anna looked around.

  ‘There’s a pan on the stove in the corner,’ Alexei informed her.

  ‘It’s rough down there. I need to get back. My brother …’ one of the injured miners struggled to sit up.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere, Artur.’ Nathan checked him over. ‘Your right arm and leg are broken. Anna, prepare the bandages. You’ll have to bind the limbs as soon as I’ve set them. Miriam, Rivka, all the patients need to be washed before we can treat them.’

  ‘We’ll bring water as soon as it’s boiled, Dr Kharber.’ Anna u
nfolded a bundle of sheets to reveal two metal bowls, one filled with medical instruments, the other soap, disinfectant, antiseptic, and scrubbing brushes.

  ‘What’s it like down there?’ Alexei crouched on his heels beside Artur.

  ‘Blacker than the devil’s arsehole.’

  ‘We have ladies present,’ Alexei reprimanded.

  ‘Sorry to the ladies, but it is.’

  ‘When did you last see the devil’s arsehole, Arter?’ Vlad walked in.

  ‘When he farted so loud in the pit he brought the walls down.’ Artur looked groggily up at Alexei. ‘Two dead. Twenty missing. The Welshmen are tunnelling through the fall to try to reach them.’

  ‘How many injured?’ Nathan asked.

  Artur’s eyes closed.

  ‘Is he …’ Alexei stared down at him.

  ‘Fainted, probably from the pain,’ Nathan diagnosed. ‘This would be a good time to set his bones. Hold him up while I pull his trousers off, will you?’

  A shout came from the pithead. ‘Two more injured.’

  ‘Get the ones who are breathing in here, Alexei. As for the dead …’

  ‘I’ll deal with them,’ Alexei went to the door.

  ‘You’ll need sheets, Alexei.’

  Alexei looked at Anna in confusion.

  She lowered her voice. ‘For shrouds. Make sure the bodies are taken to the hospital mortuary so we can wash them and lay them out properly before the families see them. Have you notified Father Grigor? The Cossacks will want the last rites, and send someone to the carpenter in Alexandrovka. We’ll need coffins to carry the bodies from the mortuary to the village. Write down the measurements of the dead and give them to the messenger in case the carpenter has something suitable in stock. Let me know the minute you have news about Richard.’

  Alexei was dumbfounded. Anna wouldn’t be fourteen for a month but she sounded as authoritative and confident as Sarah Edwards. Then he remembered the soldier she’d shot and killed.

  ‘Here.’ She thrust a pair of sheets at him. ‘Sorry Miriam and I are too busy to help you, but the injured take precedence over the dead. Lay the body diagonally in the centre of the sheet and bring the corners forward over the head and feet. That way you can cover the entire body ready for transport. Rigor will set in soon in this warm weather, get the corpses to the hospital as quickly as possible.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘You being sarcastic?’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it in the face of such efficiency.’ Alexei left the hut.

  ‘The Matron’s transformed those girls into wise angels.’ Vlad offered Alexei a flask. Alexei looked back through the open door to where Anna, Rivka, and Miriam were washing the coal-encrusted limbs of the injured. He lifted the flask to his lips and drank a mouthful of rough vodka. ‘If they’re angels, they’re bossy, not wise ones.’

  Underground, Three Firs Mine,

  June 1871

  Richard looked to the miner who’d crawled to the foot of the fall. ‘Try again – and SILENCE, the rest of you.’

  The miner tapped a rock at his feet three times in quick succession. Silence reined, claustrophobic in a gloom pierced by the inadequate light of the miners’ lamps. After what seemed like an eternity, three faint but definite answering taps echoed from the behind the fall.

  ‘Someone’s alive,’ Glyn breathed.

  ‘We need the rods, Mr Edwards,’ Alf shouted. ‘I’ll push them through as far as I can. With luck there’ll be air pockets we can use to open a tunnel through the debris.’

  ‘Rods,’ John ordered Yuri who’d returned from the cage where he’d delegated the task of moving the injured to the surface.

  Richard motioned the miner with the pick to retreat as he inched his way forward alongside Alf.

  ‘Who made you two chief rescuers?’ Glyn questioned.

  ‘If anyone’s had more experience than me and this boy, we’d be glad to hand over the responsibility, sir,’ Alf replied.

  ‘All our nerves are at breaking point, Glyn, but it looks to me as if those two are doing all that can be done.’ John declared.

  ‘I couldn’t do better and I wouldn’t do different. It’s just seeing that boy put himself in harm’s way …’ Glyn emphasised his concern by lifting his lamp beam on to an overhang of coal that projected down from the ceiling of the shaft. ‘That looks as though it could crash on Richard and Alf at any minute.’

  ‘The whole lot could go,’ John agreed. ‘I wish I could light a cigar.’

  ‘Do it, sir, and we’ll all be knocking on St Peter’s Gate.’

  ‘The rods are going through and there’s a crack that looks wide enough for me to get through.’ Richard highlighted a narrow gap close to the floor of the shaft.

  ‘It’s too narrow, Richard. You’ll never squeeze through that.’ Glyn warned.

  ‘I crawled through narrower back in Merthyr. Here, hold this for me please, and pass me those ropes.’ Richard handed Alf his lamp. ‘Keep the beam trained on that spot. Keep a tight grip on these ropes, as soon as I reach the trapped miners, I’ll hand over the other ends. That way, even if we can’t get the men out straight away we’ll be able to send through water and food.’

  ‘The boy’s the wiriest here.’ Alf assured Glyn. ‘If you or me tried to force our way through with our broad shoulders, we’d bring the roof down.’

  ‘As no one has a better idea, go ahead, Richard.’ John sat upright, too wary of starting another fall to lean against anything.

  Minutes crawled past while Richard continued to gain ground inch by painful inch. He dislodged a lump of coal and pushed it behind him. It rolled, gathered momentum and crashed, splintering in a mess of small coal and dust.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, boy, be careful.’ Alf cried.

  ‘I am being careful,’ came the muted reply.

  ‘That boy has the courage of a dozen men,’ Alf muttered.

  ‘That boy is foolhardy. Is that the cage?’ Glyn asked.

  ‘My brother Viktor has brought down food, water, and more oil for the lamps sir,’ Yuri informed John.

  ‘The injured we sent up?’ Glyn kept his eyes focused on the studded soles of Richard’s boots.

  ‘The doctor’s setting their broken bones before sending them to the hospital.’

  ‘Is he leaving with them?’

  ‘No, we told him we can hear the trapped men. He said he’ll stay until you get them out.’

  ‘Until,’ – Glyn kept the thought to himself that ‘in case’ might be more appropriate.

  Richard shouted. Seconds later another fall of rock, slag, and coal tumbled into the shaft.

  The Cossacks, Glyn, John, and Alf closed their eyes and covered their heads with their arms.

  Chapter Three

  Surface, Three Firs Mine

  June 1871

  Alexei waved off Miriam and two of the injured miners and entered the hut. Nathan was setting the leg bones of one of the injured, Anna was bandaging his handiwork, and Rivka was washing another patient.

  A deep rumble resounded from beneath the ground. They all froze.

  ‘Was that a fall?’ Anna demanded.

  Alexei charged back to the cage. He returned moments that seemed like hours later. ‘I don’t know anything,’ he pre-empted Anna and Nathan’s questions, ‘other than it shook the miners who were coming up in the cage.’

  ‘They reached the surface?’ Nathan asked.

  ‘Safely, but the cage operator is refusing to send anyone else down until he hears from below.’

  ‘Are there more injured?’ Nathan checked.

  ‘None on the surface, but Mr Edwards has sent up some miners who appear to be suffering from shock. Should I give them vodka?’

  ‘In moderation, no more than a shot or two each. Send them back to the hospital, Sarah will treat them. How many are still down there?’

  ‘Nine we know are alive including Glyn, Richard, and Alf,’ Alexei divulged. ‘From what the miners who’ve come up are saying, they’re doi
ng all they can to rescue the missing men. They can hear them, but the fall was heavy and there’s no way to get at them except through the debris. I offered to go down after the last lot came up but Mr Hughes sent a message telling me to stay up here.’

  ‘Mr Hughes needs trained colliers underground, not well-meaning amateurs, Alexei. Untrained men are a hazard and a nuisance in a disaster,’ Anna declared.

  It was one remark too many from a girl six years younger than him. ‘What would you know about a coal mine, missy?’

  ‘I worked in a drift mine in Merthyr for five years as a trapper. I saw three falls in that time.’

  ‘You’re a child.’

  ‘I was a child then.’

  ‘Stop arguing about things you know nothing of, and get the bodies and shocked miners back to Hughesovka, Alexei.’ Nathan reached into his bag for a phial of morphine.

  ‘Has anyone mentioned Richard?’ Anna questioned. The only indication of strain was in her eyes.

  ‘No one’s said anything about him, other than he’s working to get the men out and he’s a hero,’ Alexei replied. ‘I’m sure he’ll be, fine he’s …’

  ‘Organise transport for these two injured men,’ Anna interrupted, unable to bear Alexei’s well-meaning but irritating platitudes. ‘They need to get to the hospital as soon as the troika returns. Have you sent the corpses to the hospital?’

  ‘I was about to.’

  ‘Do it.’

  Underground, Three Firs Mine

  June 1871

  Richard covered his nose and mouth with his scarf, held his breath, and waited until the avalanche subsided. When the only sounds were those of the men behind him struggling to breathe, he called out. ‘Everyone all right?’

  ‘In one piece and better placed than you, boy. Get back here,’ John replied.

  ‘It’s worth my carrying on for a few more minutes, sir.’ Richard tightened his grip on his short-handled pick and wriggled forward on his stomach. After a tense five minutes of hard scrabbling and pushing at the new fall, he halted and shouted.

  Several voices yelled back in unison from behind the debris.

  ‘They’re close. Keep them talking, Mr Edwards,’ Richard cried out, ‘so I can aim at the sound.’