Eliza's Child (10 page)

‘
I'M GOING UP
to Alnwick to see me mam,' said Jack, one Saturday morning in July. He had just walked in the door of the cottage though he had only been gone about two hours. Eliza looked up from scouring the hearthstone in surprise and was even more shaken to see Henry, his brother, behind him.

‘What is it? What's happened?' She rose to her feet, still holding the piece of wet sandstone she had been using.

‘Da, Da,' chirruped Thomas in delight, and waddled towards him from under the table where he had been playing with a peg dollie. For once, Jack ignored him even though Thomas clung to his gaitered legs. The baby howled and Eliza picked him up automatically. She gazed anxiously at Jack then Henry. Her brother-in-law nodded curtly.

‘Me da's dead,' said Jack. ‘Henry came to tell me. He's had a job finding us and the funeral is at four o'clock. We shall have go into Durham for the train.'

‘Haven't you got your trap, Henry?' Eliza asked.

‘It'll take too long,' said Henry. ‘We must get back. Mother wanted Jack there, she's fallen to bits, like.'

Eliza thought of the hard-faced woman she knew. She couldn't imagine Annie falling to bits over anything but still, John Henry was her husband and despite everything that had happened she couldn't help feeling sorry for the woman.

‘Do you want me to tell Mr Benson, Jack?' she asked. ‘I can go into Haswell if you like.'

‘He knows. It was there I met Henry. Make us up a bite to take with us, pet.'

Within ten minutes the two men were on their way, taking Henry's trap to the station and leaving it at the stables there. She watched them drive down the track to the road, their shoulders touching in the small vehicle. She had not seen them so close together since she had known them. Then she went into the cottage, quiet now but for Thomas mumbling to himself as he played with his dollie.

What was going to happen now? she wondered. Would Jack be able to go home to Northumberland for good? Would Annie forgive him and welcome him home? Eliza looked at little Thomas, oh it would be a good thing for the bairn if they all went to live in Northumberland again. He would be a cabinet maker like his father and grandfather and he definitely would not have to go down the pit. Her heart lightened at the thought of it.

Late on Sunday evening Eliza discovered how John Henry's death was going to affect her little family and it was not at all. Jack came staggering in the door, dirty and dishevelled and stinking of ale and the honeyed sweetness of mead. He leaned over the table and hiccupped.

‘What? What's happening Jack?' she cried.

‘Happening? Nowt's happening,' he replied, his words slurring into each other. ‘My gracious mother, my lovely, forgiving mother welcomed me back with open arms, oh aye, she did. Then as soon as the last funeral guest had gone she turfed me out, her and that thieving reiving brother of mine.'

‘Jack, you knew you were going to be disinherited,' said Eliza but in truth she herself was bitterly disappointed. She had been weaving daydreams about life in Alnwick for her little family all day. ‘Did you get nothing?'

‘Oh, aye. Henry said I could have the old pony and the tub trap he left in the stables at the railway station. Only it will cost twelve shillings to pay the stabling charges. Have you got twelve shillings?'

‘Jack, you know I haven't. It will have to wait until you've earned the money.'

‘Or we could sell something.'

Jack sat down on the settee and Thomas stood at his knee, looking up at him with adoring eyes. ‘If we wait till the weekend and I get my dues from Benson it'll have gone up a couple of shillings.' He sniffed and looked up at Eliza. ‘I'll sell the necklace.'

‘You will not!' Eliza burst out. ‘You said you would never take it again, you promised me, you did.'

‘Aye, but it's just to get the pony and trap out, it's not for gambling. I'm not going to gamble, I told you I wouldn't.'

‘No.'

‘I'll pawn it then. I can get it back at the weekend if I pawn it. Where is it, any road?'

‘I'm not telling you. Not even if you bray me.'

‘I'm not going to hit you,' said Jack in disgust. ‘I wouldn't.'

‘You've done it before.'

‘Shut your mouth, woman!' Jack suddenly lost his temper. He jumped to his feet and went over to a small chest of drawers he had made for her only the week before. It was built of oak and he had put on brass handles, which twinkled in the firelight against the dull sheen of the polished oak. He pulled out the drawers and threw out the cloths and other things he found in them.

‘You're not taking them!' Eliza ran over and tried to pull him away but he shoved her aside roughly and Thomas began to scream in terror. The baby sat down on the clipped rag mat and howled and Eliza couldn't bear to hear it. She went to him and picked him up and hugged him to her. His sobs lessened and he quietened down and buried his head in her shoulder. She heard the door bang behind Jack and when she looked up he was striding away with the chest humped on his shoulder.

After a while Eliza took Thomas up the ladder to bed with her. She lay with the sleeping child cuddled against her breast but she couldn't sleep herself. Every noise from outside the cottage alerted her: the hoot of an owl, the screech of a vixen in the covert over the field at the back.

If she hadn't taken food to help out her mam she would have had enough to pay the stabling bill, she thought as she tossed and turned restlessly. As it was, she had only a few shillings to last the week, 2/5d in fact. Though mebbe she could have got something on the slate in Haswell. She could have given Jack what she had. Now he might get three or four pounds for the chest and have money left to gamble with when he had paid to get the horse and trap out of the stable. He might lose and then borrow again and not come home at all. He might – but what was the good of thinking like this? As the night wore on she became less and less hopeful. By, it had been a flaming rotten day, it had an' all.

In the grey dawn, Eliza was wakened by the sound of someone fumbling at the door downstairs. She was filled with relief; thank God, Jack had come home. Everything would be all right now for she would make it up to him. Carefully she picked up Thomas so as not to wake him and laid him in his own little cot. She waited for Jack to come to her bed, she waited and waited and in the end she got out of bed herself, pulled on her shawl, for it was chilly in the early morning air, and went down to find Jack slumped in the chair by the cold grate. He still stank of drink.

‘Did you sell it?' Eliza asked. ‘Did you get the pony and trap?'

He looked at her blearily. ‘Pony and trap? Eeh, I forgot.'

‘Jack, did you sell the chest of drawers?'

He nodded and closed his eyes. ‘Let me alone, woman, I'm worn out.'

‘Come to bed, Jack, please. Come to bed.' It was a waste of time talking to him, the state he was in, she thought.

He snored loudly and stretched out his legs before him. His head lolled against the back of the chair. There would be no waking him for an hour or two at least. Eliza raked out the grate with some difficulty for she had to step over and round his legs and feet all the time. Eventually, though, she managed it and lit the fire with twigs and bits of rag, blowing carefully on a cinder that was still showing a little red. She added a few lumps of the coal she had garnered from the black road on her return from her mother's house a day or two ago and brought home in the basket she had used to take the food.

The room began to warm up. She looked doubtfully at Jack's boots and gaiters. She should try to take them off, for they must be uncomfortable for him. But when she tried he moved and muttered something unintelligible. Best leave him alone. If he had a couple of hours sleep he might go to work at Mr Benson's. Even if he were late he would be able to make it up at the end of the day.

Eliza went through the day in the way she usually did. She brought in water and searched beneath the trees and hedgerows for kindling to bring in and dry on the hearthstone. She made porridge for Thomas and herself and swept and tidied the room, though working all the time round Jack, spread out before the fire.

He stirred at last and sat up and stretched himself and groaned at how stiff he was. He did not speak to Eliza, though he frowned at her when she offered him porridge and instead took a piece of cheese and bread and wrapped them in a handkerchief. Then he rinsed his mouth with a dipper of water from the pail and went out, she hoped to work.

It was another fine day and Eliza couldn't bear just waiting to see whether he would return or not. She took Thomas out and they wandered slowly into Haswell as they had done the previous day. The little boy toddled about happily enough, decapitating daisies and bringing them to her. The breeze in her face was warm and her natural optimism began to return.

What did it matter that they couldn't go back to live in Alnwick? John Henry had said he would cut Jack and his family off without a penny so why should she or Jack think he might have changed his mind? They were young and healthy and Jack would get over his disappointment and his ill temper with her. He was a good carpenter and he would make his own way. Just so long as he didn't get into bad company and start gambling again.

Eliza bent down to Thomas, who was holding up a squashed handful of daisy heads for her, pleased with himself. ‘Thank you, Thomas, they're lovely,' she said. ‘We'll put them in a saucer of water and show them to Daddy when he gets home.'

‘Dada,' said Thomas and hurried off to garner more.

Soon they were entering Haswell. Eliza didn't go near Mr Benson's shop just in case Jack should think she was checking up on him. But she did go round to the stables to see if Jack had got the pony and tub trap out. He had not, at least not yet; she could see the animal tethered and grazing on a patch of grass bordering the track outside the building. Well, she thought, it was early yet. She bought a sheep's head at the butcher's and a pound of lentils and a stick of barley sugar for Thomas and set off home again with a halfpenny left in her purse.

Jack did not come home at the usual time and Eliza told herself he must be making up for his late start that morning so she wasn't unduly worried. Around tea time, Farmer Dean came past, herding cows back to the milking parlour. He called, ‘Cush! Cush!' softly to them and Eliza took little Thomas out to watch, and he called, ‘Cush! Cush!' in imitation of the farmer and his arms waved about in excitement.

Farmer Dean smiled at him. ‘If you come up to the farm the wife'll give you a few cracked eggs,' he called to Eliza. ‘They'll be good for the lad. We have some to spare this time of the year.' His old dog, Jessie, wagged her tail at Eliza, panting and sticking her tongue out. Thomas pointed and said ‘Bow,' and Eliza didn't know whether he was trying to say bow-wow for the dog or moo for the cows.

She got her shawl from behind the door and followed the farmer up the lane. Their progress was necessarily slow for the cows ambled at their own pace, turning curious eyes to the woman and child, their full udders swinging slightly.

‘I heard there was trouble over by Blue House.' said Farmer Dean.

‘Trouble? I was there a few days ago, it was quiet enough,' said Eliza. But she thought of the stranger and the group of laid-off miners listening to him and she was anxious. Had something happened after she left with Thomas?

‘The men are agitating for an end to the yearly bond,' said Farmer Dean. Eliza waited as he guided the cows through the gate into the farmyard and the leader headed for the byre. The herd was hurrying now, lowing gently as they found their stalls. Farmer Dean paused and looked at Eliza. He had known her since she was a child and raiding the clover in his meadow with other children from the miners' rows to suck the sweet nectar from the flower shoots. They were sometimes in trouble for climbing his haystacks and loosening the hay or crawling on hands and knees through the ripe barley, playing hide and seek. Still, he liked to see them for he and Alice had no children of their own.

‘I don't hold with men rebelling against their masters,' he said. ‘They should be able to talk reasonably without any bother.'

‘They should,' agreed Eliza. ‘But the gaffers have the power, haven't they?' What, after all, did the farmer know? He'd been his own boss for most of his life.

‘Well, where would the men be without them giving the work?'

‘Free to look for it elsewhere,' said Eliza. ‘If my dad is laid idle he can't even take work elsewhere because of the yearly bond. How are they supposed to live?' She was upset; the farmer saw with some alarm that though her eyes flashed angrily they were bright with tears.

‘Nay, lass, I was only saying what I think,' he said. ‘Away in the kitchen and ask Alice for those eggs.'

‘I won't if it's all the same to you,' said Eliza. ‘I'd best get the bairn home.'

She turned and marched back down the lane with Thomas on her hip. Farmer Dean called something conciliatory after her but she didn't turn round. He stood, scratching his head. Alice would be wondering why the lass hadn't gone in to see her for hers was a lonely life and she liked company. But he had only said what he thought.

Jack didn't come home that evening and Eliza spent a restless night tossing and turning. Thomas slept well after his day out. When she did eventually fall asleep she woke early in the morning and was filled with thankfulness to realise that Jack had at last come in and was actually already in bed with her. She lay for a few moments, enjoying the feel of his hands on her, ready to kiss and make up. Only his hands were different, not like Jack's at all for they were softer with not so many calluses. What's more he didn't smell the same as Jack.

The hands slipped to her breasts and she tried to jump up but even then she didn't scream, mindful of the baby. He put a leg over hers to hold her down and a hand over her mouth and she stared at him in the gloom of the early dawn. It was Jonathan Moore. Oh God, what was she going to do? She began to fight against him with all her strength.