The Liverpool Rose (52 page)

So now Lizzie knew that the little clutch of terror she felt was completely illogical and was more a reminder of past unhappiness than of any fear for her present safety. She did glance towards number nine as she passed it, but it had been occupied by a cheerful family originating from Dublin for some time now and there seemed to be nothing left to remind her of the past. The paintwork was clean and fresh, the windows sparkled, the steps were whitenened, and even the curtains, blowing in the breeze from the open window were fresh and crisp.

The house has changed, Lizzie told herself as she approached Sally’s front door, but then so have I. When I left the court that December night, I never dreamed that in five short months I’d only see Liverpool once every three weeks or so, and would be actually living aboard a canal boat and loving every minute of it. Isn’t life strange? I was frightened of Uncle Perce, truly miserable over losing Aunt Annie and sure that I’d no real future with the chance of a home of my own. But that part of my life’s over now and I’m all set to begin a totally new one.

As she crossed the court, she thought nostalgically of that first terrible journey when she, Geordie and Clem had set out from Leeds, leaving Jake in the Infirmary and Priddy aboard
The Singing Lark
. All had gone swimmingly to begin with, despite the flood water which stretched, lake-like, on either side of the canal. To be sure, they had lost two of Priddy’s
beautifully made coir fenders when Lizzie had forgotten to put them out until she heard the
Rose
’s hull scraping against the stonework of the lock. Then she had thrown the fenders over, without checking that they were secure, and had only discovered her mistake when they reached the next lock, to find they were two fenders short.

Then there had been trouble with Geordie. Brutus had taken one look at their new crew member and had decided he was a Wigan Wolf in disguise; at any rate, he gave the boy a wide berth and warned him off whenever Geordie tried to enter the little cabin where Brutus and Clem slept. In the end, Lizzie slept in the main cabin, Clem stayed in the butty boat, and Geordie in the cabin Lizzie had occupied before. Not that he stayed in it for long. Lizzie soon realised that the boy was both lazy and a grumbler. If it was possible to get out of a task which he had been set, he would do so; if it was not possible, he whined and moaned and complained until someone – either Lizzie herself or Clem – took over from him in sheer desperation.

When they awoke on the fourth day out, however, and Lizzie began to prepare breakfast, Clem popped his head around the cabin door to say, approvingly, that Geordie must be getting used to their ways. ‘He’s already gone up to the stable to bring Hal down for tacking up,’ he told her. ‘It’s the first time he’s done
anything
without being ordered or cajoled to do it. Perhaps he’ll become a respectable member of the crew by the time we get back to Leeds and we’ll be sorry to lose him.’

But by the time the breakfast was on the table, Clem was beginning to have his doubts. No Geordie – nor even Hal – had appeared. So Clem took himself off to the stable and returned, very flustered, with Hal
fully tacked up by his side. ‘He’s gone, scarpered, vamoosed,’ he said. ‘Oh, Gawd, Lizzie love, I’m the Number One while Jake and Priddy aren’t around and I’ve already lost a member of me crew! I reckon Brutus was right. He knew him for a wrong ’un from the start, but though he warned us we didn’t take notice and now look what’s happened! I wonder what he took with him?’

‘He took the loose change from Priddy’s needlework drawer, the bucket with the roses and castles painted all over it, two beautiful new pairs of thick winter socks, and all the little cakes I baked yesterday,’ Lizzie said grimly. She had said nothing to Clem, but as soon as she knew that Geordie was not aboard, she had begun to check their belongings. And over the course of the next few days, they gradually realised that he had been a proper little thief and had probably meant to rob them from the moment he had come aboard. Small things like teaspoons, meat skewers, in fact anything he could carry in his pockets, had been salted away, and Lizzie, not being as familiar with the contents of the cabin as Priddy would have been, only noticed something was missing when she actually tried to use it.

‘We’re better off without him,’ she had told Clem a couple of days later when
The Liverpool Rose
and her butty boat were ascending the Bingley Five Rise. ‘You’re a really good teacher, Clem, and I’m learning far quicker than I would have if Geordie had been aboard to do some of the running around. Why, I’m real handy at working the locks now, aren’t I? I know how important it is not to waste water, and I know it’s no use pushing the beam before the water level’s dropped or risen, and not to turn the windlass too soon.’

‘Aye, you’re right. But remember the reason we had Geordie aboard the boat in the first place,’ Clem said, a trifle reproachfully. ‘They’re a narrow-minded lot, these narrow boat folk.’ He laughed at his own joke, then added: ‘But mebbe they won’t notice there’s just the two of us aboard because we don’t even sleep on the same craft. I stick to my butty boat and you’re snug down in the main cabin, the whole length of the butty boat away from me. Personally, I think Priddy was worrying unduly, but anyway there’s nothing we can do about it except make sure we deliver our cargo to the Stanley Dock and pick up the new one as soon as it’s ready to load.’

And the rest of that voyage, though it could not be described as trouble-free, was certainly far more enjoyable than Lizzie had expected it to be. His new responsibility as Number One sat easily on Clem’s broad shoulders, and though he frequently had to instruct her in the ways of the canal, he never made Lizzie feel ignorant or foolish and usually, in fact, made her aware that he admired the quickness with which she took on a whole new way of life.

‘When I remember that the only other time you’ve worked the canal was with the Trelawney brothers it’s even more amazing you’ve took to it the way you have,’ he told her one evening when they were comfortably settled in the cabin, eating stewed mutton and potatoes which had been sold to them cheap as they were badly marked by frost and flood. ‘Not many girls could work in a factory one week and on a canal boat the next!’

‘If you’d ever worked in a factory, you’d know it don’t take a lot of skill nor much thought neither,’ Lizzie assured him. ‘But this . . . well, it’s exciting,
different. I can’t imagine you’d ever want to work ashore after this, Clem.’

‘Nor I would,’ he agreed. ‘Pass us the bread, queen.’ The conversation then turned to other things and Lizzie could not help noticing how Clem could take instant decisions without having to mull over the various alternatives. She remembered Geoff had been studying hard to get on in his own world but knew that, for him, a decision was always an agonising choice between various alternatives. She supposed this was partly due to his having been brought up in an orphan asylum where decisions, by and large, would have been taken for him. Clem, on the other hand, had had to fend for himself from the moment that his parents died. It was pretty plain that once the Pridmores had taken him aboard
The Liverpool Rose
and put him in charge of the butty boat, he had learned his new role. Even when Jake and Priddy were not around, he knew exactly what best to do and how to do it.

But right now she had reached the Bradshaws’ front door and rapped smartly upon it. Sally must have been watching for her because before Lizzie had even let go of the knocker the door had opened sharply inwards, almost precipitating her into the hallway.

‘Steady on, queen,’ Sally gasped, giving Lizzie a hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ve been longing to see you so’s you can tell me all the news. I know Jake and Priddy have been back with
The Liverpool Rose
for a good few weeks now, but how’s Jake getting on?’

He had been allowed out of the Infirmary after three weeks on the strict understanding that he was not to work the locks, carry water, use the windlass or tack up the horse; in other words, he was forbidden to
do any sort of hard physical work. Since he had naturally rebelled over being, as he put it, demoted to the role of cabin boy when he was a bye-trader aboard his own craft, Priddy frequently found herself acting as gaoler, which meant that without Lizzie’s help, Clem would have had his work cut out to get the various cargoes to their destinations in good time. However, of late Jake had begun to accept that his role of Number One aboard
The Liverpool Rose
was never really in question; the other three made it clear that they would not dream of ousting him, but were merely trying to see that he regained his former health and did not overtax his strength.

‘Oh, Jake’s getting on pretty well,’ Lizzie said, following her friend into the kitchen. ‘Once or twice he ignored the doctor’s advice and insisted on leading Hal, though only for a short stretch, and found it exhausting. Then, when Clem and I had gone to a farm to fetch hay for Hal and fresh milk for us, he took two buckets to the Winterburn reservoir pipe line to top up the water barrel. Halfway back to the boat, he reckons he slipped. He lost the water in both buckets and strained a muscle in his calf. Clem didn’t think he slipped, he thought he had collapsed, but anyway the old feller was laid up for a week. That was a month ago, just about, and since then he’s been much more sensible. Why, I actually heard him telling the Number One aboard
The Jenny Wren
that if a feller had a good crew, it was only right and proper that the Number One should do the brainwork – go touting for business, see that the cargo was loaded correctly and that his charges were reasonable for both parties. He added that a Number One could tell his crew what to do, knowing that it would be done properly, without losing his authority over them.’

‘So are you coming back to the factory then?’ Sally asked. She had produced a large, light-looking sponge cake from the depths of the pantry and set it down in the middle of the table, then ferreted in the drawer for a knife and cut two generous slices. ‘Wet the pot, will you, Lizzie? I keep telling the boss you’ll only stay on the canal while they can’t manage without you, but I don’t know where you’ll live when you
do
move back to the city because lodgings is awful expensive and you’ll want to be in this area so’s you won’t need to catch a tram to go to and from work. I’ve telled you before, our mam would have you to stay like a shot but you didn’t seem to want to live in the court again. Though why that should be when you know your uncle’s safely drowned at sea, I can’t understand,’ she added in an injured tone.

Lizzie laughed. ‘It isn’t that I don’t want to live in the court again, and you know I’d love to share your home, Sally,’ she said. ‘But the truth is, I’ve taken a real shine to life on the canal. I’ve not been lucky enough to live in the country before, but now that I’ve done it, I get the feeling I’d never settle to town life again. And to tell the truth, Sal, I’ve had a word with Priddy and she’s very keen to start putting the cottage at Burscough to rights, so’s she and Jake can move in before next winter. She’s happy for them both to live aboard
The Liverpool Rose
in spring and summer, but she doesn’t think it’s right for Jake once the weather gets severe. The doctors say the bump on the head meant that he was unable to move around as he normally does, which has led to congestion on his lungs, and that’ll have to be watched, especially if he gets cold or chilled.’

‘So does that mean you’ll be stayin’ aboard the boat?’ Sally asked rather dismally. ‘Oh, Lizzie, I do
miss you. I never realised how lucky I were having me best pal living opposite, and though you’ve said you wouldn’t want to live in the court again, I’ve always thought you’d come back eventually. Still, you’re here every three weeks or so, so we’ll just have to arrange more regular meetings, I suppose.’ She turned from the table and, taking two mugs from the dresser, poured a small amount of condensed milk into each, added the tea and stirred both mugs briskly before pushing one across to her friend. ‘Help yourself to cake, it’s fresh made this morning. I’m getting into practice, you might say.’

‘I know you and Geoff have been going steady, but does cake-making mean you’re getting married soon?’ Lizzie asked. She took a big bite then spoke through her mouthful: ‘This is good! Your mam’s got one of these new-fangled, free-standing stoves, hasn’t she? I suppose you and Geoff will be saving up for one of your own!’

Sally shrugged. ‘We’d like to get married soon, of course, and we could do if we moved into one of the cheaper suburbs, but we’re both city-reared and don’t fancy a long journey into work each day. Besides, I’m not eighteen yet and me mam and dad think that’s much too young to wed. But wharrabout you, queen?’

‘Me? Since I’m the same age as you, I reckon I’m too young to marry as well,’ Lizzie said, but she felt warmth rise in her cheeks. The fact was that unless Jake and Priddy decided to employ another worker during the winter months, she and Clem would be uncomfortably situated once more, with no one to chaperone them on their trips up and down the canal. She knew that Priddy would not want to leave Jake alone while she accompanied
The Liverpool Rose
on her winter voyages, and several times she had been aware
that Clem was on the verge of saying something about the situation. By now, Lizzie knew that she was fonder of Clem than she had ever been of anyone else, but oddly enough, the very closeness of their lives together was inhibiting any display of affection. Clem had been careful, right from the start, to keep a certain distance between them, though sometimes Lizzie thought she detected a warm glow in his eyes and once or twice, as though he could not stop himself, he had reached out a hand to rumple her curls gently or pinch her cheek, and had then apologised gruffly, reddening to the roots of his hair and making an excuse to move swiftly away from her. The truth is, Sal, that the canal folk wouldn’t approve if Clem and I worked the boats between us during the winter months. They’d think it not right for an unmarried couple, you see, and though I think Priddy would agree to taking on a young lad – mebbe just for his keep – it didn’t work with Geordie and I’m afraid it might . . . might spoil things. You see, it’s taken three or four months to train me to be a useful member of the crew, which would mean the lad wouldn’t be much of a help until his time with us was up. What’s more, it wouldn’t be very fair on him.’