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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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BOOK: Pauper's Gold
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‘Be careful,’ he mouthed. ‘The floor’s uneven and it’s a bit of a mess.’ He pulled a face. ‘It’s the one thing we can’t seem to do –
keep the place clean and tidy.’

Hannah forced herself to smile up at him, anxious that he should not suspect the reason for the tumult of emotions coursing through her. Being back here in the dusty atmosphere, amongst the
noise and, most of all, seeing Daniel was causing her a heartache she hadn’t envisaged. For a moment, she wanted to turn and run. But she gritted her teeth and allowed Adam to lead her
through the mill, showing her the workrooms on each floor. She tried to concentrate on what he was telling her as he put his mouth close to her ear, shouting above the din. At last he led her back
out into the yard and towards the door at the end of the building that led up to the offices.

They climbed the stone steps and came to the outer office where Mr Roper had his domain. Hannah found she was holding her breath as Adam opened the door and ushered her inside. Josiah Roper was
little changed, perhaps a little more bent as he hunched over his ledgers, his features even sharper and his eyes filled with the bitterness and resentment that the passing of the years had only
increased. He glanced up, inquisitive as ever he had been. But Hannah deliberately kept her eyes downcast.

‘This young lady is looking for a job,’ Adam explained cheerily. ‘Is my father in?’

Josiah sniffed with disapproval; Hannah remembered the sound so well, she almost laughed out loud. ‘Do you know her?’

‘No, she’s just turned up at the gate.’

‘We don’t usually employ folks without a reference of some kind,’ Josiah said loftily. ‘She could be anybody.’

Indeed I could!
Hannah thought wryly.

‘Oh, we’ll go into all that,’ Adam said.

‘Well, he’s not here.’

Adam turned and winked at Hannah. ‘Fine. Then I’ll interview her.’

Josiah made a movement, but Adam glanced at him. ‘Any objections, Roper?’

The man faltered, muttered something under his breath and turned back to his books.

‘Good. Come along in, then, Miss – er . . . ?

‘Morgan,’ Hannah said firmly. ‘Anna Morgan.’

He drew her into the inner office and closed the door. ‘I’m Adam Critchlow. Sorry about old Roper. He’s been here a long time. He and my father have known each other for years
and he seems to think he half-owns the place. Sit down, please,’ he added, indicating a chair in front of the desk, the very same desk on which Hannah had painstakingly signed the indenture
that had bound her to the Critchlows for six years. As she sat down, she felt a sudden stab of indecision. Was she being foolish, trying to retrace the past? Would it have been better to let it all
go and move forward with her life? Was she stacking up a whole load of trouble for herself by coming back?

‘I’m sorry my father, Mr Edmund, isn’t here. He’d like to have seen you himself, I’m sure.’

At the mention of his name, all Hannah’s doubts disappeared and her resolve strengthened.
I bet he would
, she thought.
But not if he knew who I really am and why I’ve come
back.

‘You’ve worked in a mill before, you say?’ Adam was beginning the interview in a businesslike manner, though if she could have read his mind, Hannah would’ve known that
already he intended to employ her. There was something about this pretty girl with startling blue eyes and red hair that he found appealing; he wanted to know more about her, wanted to get to know
her. And what better way than to have her working here, where he could find an excuse – a legitimate excuse – to see her every day?

Hannah licked her lips. Lying had never come easily to her, but it was a means to an end. It had to be done. ‘Yes. It . . . it was a small mill in Lancashire. They . . . they had to
close.’ It was the only thing she could think of to say that would stop the Critchlows trying to make contact with a former employer.

Adam pulled a sympathetic face. ‘Yes, business has been difficult of late and some of the smaller mills have found it difficult to keep going. We’ve been lucky. My father has good
contacts and work has been plentiful here. But with this war brewing in America . . . Ah well.’ He smiled. ‘Let’s not get too pessimistic before we have to, eh? Have you brought
any kind of reference?’

Hannah smiled. ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t got it with me. I really only came to the mill today to make an appointment to see someone. I didn’t think I’d get an interview
so quickly.’

‘No matter,’ Adam said, waving it aside as of no particular importance. ‘I think I can trust my own judgement.’ He smiled at her, drinking in her appearance. She smiled
back, just a tentative, shy smile. Nothing too bold, she warned herself.

‘Right, then. We’ll go and find Scarsfield. He’ll have a word with you and probably set you on for a trial period. Just to make sure you can do the job, you understand.’
Suddenly, it was Adam who was nervous, at pains to make sure she understood that this was no reflection upon her as a person.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, rising and following him to the door. He opened it for her and, head held high, she swept through it, just like any lady of quality. Once more, she kept
her glance averted from Josiah Roper as they passed through the outer office, and when they were in the workrooms again, Adam led her in search of Ernest Scarsfield. The overlooker hadn’t
changed at all. He smiled kindly at Hannah and stroked his moustache with the very same gesture she remembered so well. But thankfully, he didn’t recognize her.

‘Aye, Mr Adam, we’ll be glad of her if she can do all she says. I’ve a girl gone off sick and I doubt she’ll be coming back.’ A meaningful glance passed between the
two men and Hannah wondered what it meant. Not so naive now, Hannah could think of one or two reasons why the poor girl might not be resuming her work. She could have been badly injured in yet
another accident or – as seemed more likely – she was yet another whose life had been ruined by the attentions of Edmund Critchlow, and sent away in disgrace.

Ernest Scarsfield turned to Hannah. ‘Can you start in the morning, lass?’

Hannah nodded. ‘I think so, if I can find some lodgings close by.’

‘Try in the village. Go out of here and up the hill. Several houses take in lodgers – all mill workers.’

‘Oh, what about—’ Hannah bit her tongue. She’d almost asked about the apprentice house, but had remembered just in time. She stumbled for a moment and then altered her
words to ask, ‘My . . . my hours of working and . . . and my wage?’ It seemed reasonable to ask and when Mr Scarsfield answered, she nodded and said, ‘I’ll be here in the
morning, sir.’

‘Oh, you don’t call me “sir”.’ Ernest laughed and, just as he’d told her before, he added, ‘You call me “Mr Scarsfield”.’

She smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Mr Scarsfield.’ Then she turned to Adam and held out her hand. ‘And thank you too, Mr Adam. I’ll not let you down.’

He took her slim hand in his in a warm, firm handshake. ‘I know you won’t,’ he said softly.

As she turned and walked away from them, Hannah was well aware that both men stood gazing after her, the one with admiration, the other with a puzzled look on his face.

‘Mr Grundy – how lovely to see you again. And you too, Ted.’

The big man held out his arms and, without thinking, Hannah ran into his rough embrace.

‘Eh, what about me? I wouldn’t mind a bit of that, if there’s hugs being given out.’

Hannah leaned back to look up into Ollie’s face, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Seems your nephew wants a hug off you, an’ all . . .’

‘Not off him, silly. You!’ Ted was quick to say, but then he saw she was teasing him and they all laughed together. Releasing herself from Ollie Grundy’s strong arms, she
hugged Ted too. He held her close and buried his face against her hair.

‘It’s great to see you again. But what’s with the hair colour change? You had lovely fair hair.’

Hannah pulled away, almost having to prise herself out of his embrace. Ted was reluctant to let her go. The feel of her young, firm body in his arms had set the young man’s pulses racing
and his senses reeling.

‘I didn’t want anyone to recognize me.’

‘Not recognize you? Some hope!’ he laughed. ‘I’d’ve known you anywhere, blonde or redhead. You can’t hide them lovely eyes or that smile.’

Hannah’s face fell. ‘Really? Do you really think people will know me?’

‘’Course they won’t,’ Lily said, placing a meat and potato pie on the table. ‘Now come and eat – all of you. There’s my special treacle tart for
afters.’

‘I don’t suppose,’ Hannah said as she sat down, suddenly feeling very hungry, ‘that you know anyone in the village who’d take a lodger, do you?’

‘You’re staying then?’ Lily’s face lit up.

Hannah nodded. ‘I got meself a job at the mill this afternoon. I start tomorrow morning.’

‘And did anyone recognize you?’ Ted asked, passing his plate to his aunt to be loaded up with a generous helping of pie and vegetables.

Hannah shook her head, but a fleeting anxious look was in her eyes. ‘No. But then I only saw Mr Adam and Mr Scarsfield. Oh, and Mr Roper, but I kept my head turned away from him. I . . . I
saw Daniel – you know, Luke’s brother – but he never looked up from his work.’

‘He’ll know you.’ Ted nodded with certainty.

‘Mmm, maybe, but I think Daniel will keep my secret. He’ll understand – if anyone will – why I’ve come back.’

Ted gaped at her, his fork suspended midway between his plate and his mouth. ‘Why have you come back?’ He grinned suddenly. ‘I thought it was to see me.’

‘Well, of course it was.’ She smiled, playing up to him. Then her smile faded. ‘But there’s a much more serious reason.’

‘Yes, and I’m not too happy about it,’ Lily put in. ‘I reckon the lass could be stacking up a load of trouble for ’erself.’

‘Why?’ Ollie and Ted chorused the question.

‘She wants revenge on Mr Edmund, because of the accident and the death of her . . . well . . . of Luke.’

‘More than just that,’ Hannah said quietly and found that, suddenly, her appetite had left her. ‘There’s Nell too.’

‘Who’s Nell?’ Ollie asked, still eating heartily but listening nonetheless.

‘She came from the same workhouse as me, but a few years earlier. I never knew her there, but we got friendly at the mill. Then suddenly, she disappeared. None of us in the apprentice
house knew what had happened to her, though I have a feeling Mrs Bramwell did. I mean, she hadn’t even served out her indenture. One or two thought she’d run away.’

‘And had she?’

‘No.’ Hannah’s mouth was tight. ‘She’d been sent back to the workhouse in Macclesfield because she was expecting a child.’ She paused and added significantly,

Mr Edmund’s child.

To her surprise, Lily only shrugged and the two men looked down at their plates. ‘Aye, well, she wasn’t the first and I don’t suppose she’ll be the last.’

‘Well, it’s high time she was. It’s high time something was done about that man. That’s how Luke was killed, because he was trying to protect me. Mr Edmund was after
me
.’

Now all three looked at her.

‘Trouble is, love,’ Ollie said in his growly voice. ‘He will be again, if you don’t watch out.’

‘That’s just what I think, Ollie,’ Lily remarked, triumphant to hear her husband agree with her.

‘Then he’ll have me to deal with,’ Ted said stoutly and flexed his muscles.

The other three stared at him and then burst out laughing. Pint-sized Ted, though strong and sturdy, would be no match for the tall, well-built Edmund Critchlow, but Hannah was touched by his
chivalrous gesture. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she touched his arm. ‘Thank you, Ted. I’ll not forget that.’

The tension in the room broken, Hannah picked up her knife and fork. All at once her hunger had returned. ‘By the way,’ she asked as she ate, ‘what happened to the
Bramwells?’

‘He sacked them,’ Lily replied tartly. ‘They’d run that apprentice house for over twenty years for the Critchlows, and just because Mr Edmund gave up the system about two
years ago, they was out on their ear. He didn’t even try to find them work in the mill. And I’m sure Arthur could’ve turned his hand to something, don’t you,
Ollie?’

‘’Course he could.’

‘Where are they now?’

‘Went away. To Manchester, I reckon. I ’ad one letter off Ethel, but things didn’t sound too good and I’ve never heard again.’

‘What happened to all the apprentices? Come to think of it,’ she stopped eating, ‘d’you know, I never thought about it before, but there weren’t as many apprentices
in the house by the time I left as there had been when we came. And there were no more paupers from the workhouse came after us. We were the last. I’d never realized it before, but now you
mention it . . .’

Lily shook her head. ‘No. As they finished their term, he didn’t replace them and the last few that were there still with time to serve, he found lodgings for them in the village
when he closed the house.’

‘Poor Mr and Mrs Bramwell,’ Hannah murmured. ‘I quite liked them, you know.’

‘So did we,’ Lily agreed. ‘I just hope they’re all right.’

There was only one more thing that had to be done that night and Lily settled it as she rose to clear the table. ‘You don’t need to go looking for lodgings in the village. Not unless
you want to, of course. You can stay here. Ollie and me’s agreed. We had a little chat while you was up at the mill, when I told him you was back an’ that you might be
stayin’.’

‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Grundy. That’d be perfect.’

Behind her, Ted beamed.

Hannah slipped into the work she was given with ease; it was as if she’d never been away. Several of the youngsters – now young men and women like herself –
who’d been apprentices at the house when Hannah had lived there still worked in the mill, but no one seemed to recognize her.

There were now only two people she dreaded coming face to face with: Daniel and Mr Edmund Critchlow. And she wasn’t sure which incited the most fear in her.

There were one or two other people she’d recognized, but no one to whom she’d been close. She hadn’t seen Joe or Millie, and of course she couldn’t ask about them. Maybe
they’d left when they’d served their term.

BOOK: Pauper's Gold
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