‘Charlie.’
‘Very well, Charlie. And you’re wrong, I would very much like you to keep coming to school,’ Eliza said and the naked hunger in the child’s face almost made her want to weep. ‘But you can’t keep missing days. Do I need to talk to your mother?’
‘No. No, Miss, please don’t talk to me ma. She don’t want me coming to school. She says it gives me ideas above me station.’
As Charlie’s station in life could hardly be any lower, a surge of anger rushed through Eliza. Charlie’s eyes slid away to the door and Eliza recognised she had pushed the child as far as she could, so she let Charlie leave, the child scampering out of her reach like a frightened rabbit.
‘She’s a lost cause, that one.’
Eliza turned to face Flora Donald, who stood in the doorway to the teacher’s office with her arms crossed. ‘I don’t agree,’ she said. ‘Look at these tests. She is capable of mathematics years ahead of that for a ten-year-old.’
Flora studied the test results and her eyes widened. In that fleeting moment Eliza glimpsed the teacher beneath the prickly exterior, before Flora turned to the examples of Charlie’s other work Eliza had set out and her mouth tightened.
‘But look at this, Miss Penrose. My first-year students have better handwriting.’
‘I suspect that is because she’s missed so much school over the years. With regular attendance, and maybe a little extra help, she could catch up.’
‘The child needs to be taken in hand,’ Flora said and her fingers twitched as if she still held her birch cane.
‘Corporal punishment is not the answer. Did you see her black eye? She has enough of that at home. Perhaps we could go and talk to her mother?’
‘You’ve not met her mother. I wouldn’t go near her without a police escort.’
Eliza stared at her colleague. ‘But surely she has to understand how important her daughter’s education is?’
Flora snorted and turned away, picking up the abandoned slates from the desks and stacking them neatly on the table at the front of the room. She waved in the direction of the front door. ‘Can you lock up?’
Eliza shot home the bolts and returned to the schoolroom. Flora waited by the side door, tapping her foot with impatience.
‘Go and visit Mad Annie, if you think you can help,’ she said, ‘but in my opinion you will just make the child’s position worse. You’re a fool if you think you can change that girl’s life.’
‘At least I can say I tried.’
As they left the building, Eliza said, ‘I wish you would call me Eliza when we are alone.’
‘Why would I do that?’ Flora said. ‘Given names are the privilege of friends. Good evening to you, Miss Penrose.’ She strode down the path, leaving Eliza with nothing to do but watch her go.
At the mine manager’s house, Eliza found her uncle in front of the fire in the parlour reading a news sheet, his foot propped up on a stool. As he generally kept long hours at the mine, clearly something was not right.
‘Are you quite well, Uncle?’ she asked.
He looked at his foot. ‘Gout. This cold weather brings it on. Dr Sims suggested I should rest it.’ He glanced out of the window and his lips tightened. ‘As Mrs Harris’s boy is out on errands for our good housekeeper, I wonder if I could prevail on you to run a message up to McLeod?’
‘Is he back?’ she asked, her heart skipping a beat. After the disquieting break-in at the McLeod brother’s cottage, Cowper had despatched Alec to Port Albert to see to the arrival of some mine equipment.
‘Yes, got in last evening with the new drive shaft. Pass me paper and pen.’
She obliged and left him scrawling his note while she wrapped herself back in her outdoor clothes.
Cowper handed her the folded paper and said, ‘I am expecting Jack Tehan this afternoon so if you see him at the mine, send him over here, or leave a message with the clerk.’
‘Mr McLeod?’
A woman’s voice interrupted Alec’s consideration of the heavy burlap-wrapped object he’d a spent a week nursing up from Port Albert. Women were a rarity at the mine and he turned to see Eliza Penrose. She stood watching him from a distance, a neat figure in her dark dress and a fringed tartan shawl.
‘How was your journey?’
Alec huffed out a breath. ‘Hellish. This is not the best weather for bringing in heavy equipment over the mountains, but we got it here. What brings you to the mine, Miss Penrose?’
She held out a note. ‘My uncle is indisposed and sent me to give this to you.’
He took the paper, unfolded it and read the contents. Nothing important, just some fresh instructions regarding a shipment of fuel for the boilers. Nothing that couldn’t have waited until the following day but Cowper liked to keep control even in his absence. He stuffed the note in his pocket, conscious that she waited.
‘Did he want a reply?’
She shook her head. ‘He didn’t say so.’
‘Is there something else I can help you with?’
She glanced at the mine’s adit and turned back to face him, her eyes bright. ‘I would like to see where William worked—the things that were important to him.’
It took a moment for him to comprehend what she was asking. ‘You want to see the mine? Why?’
Her chin lifted. ‘I was brought up in a household where mines and mining were the main topics of conversation,’ she said. ‘Mining runs in my blood.’
‘I apologise, Miss Penrose, I didn’t mean—’
She waved a hand. ‘What happened to, Eliza? I didn’t mean to snap at you. I miss my brother, more than I thought possible. This is where he lived, worked and died. It will help to understand something of his life during the years we were apart.’ She coughed and reached into her sleeve for a handkerchief. ‘Dust,’ she said, wiping her eyes.
Considering the damp day and the sodden state of the yard, Alec let the remark pass. This woman had travelled around the world only to have her hopes dashed by the news her beloved brother was dead.
‘I understand.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘If you don’t mind the mud and inconvenience, I would be happy to show you the mine.’
She shook her head and lifted her skirt slightly to reveal a pair of stout leather boots and a tantalising glimpse of a slender ankle. ‘I’ve been shopping,’ she said. ‘I am quite well equipped for mud and inconvenience.’
He smiled and gestured at the adit. ‘Then come this way, Miss Penrose.’
At the entrance, he lit a candle and set it in a lantern he took from the shelf.
‘You don’t use Davy lamps?’ Eliza asked and his opinion of her rose a notch.
‘No. Unlike the coal mines, we don’t have explosive gases.’
The hard-packed dirt beneath their feet was slimy from the damp conditions. Puddles had formed between the rails used by the carts and the scent of damp earth drifted in a miasma from the dark hole before them.
Eliza held back, staring into the darkness.
‘Have you changed your mind?’ Alec asked, but she shook her head.
‘I was thinking about my father’s mine, Tregear. It was one of the most profitable tin mines in Cornwall in its day. He first took me into it when I was five years old. There is something about the smell of a mine that reminds me of him. He carried the scent with him when he came in from a day’s work.’
Alec thought of the mine at Wishaw where his father had worked. His father had returned home at the end of the day, black from head to toe and carrying more than just the scent of earth.
Eliza straightened her shoulders and gathered up her skirts. Then, smiling at him, she said, ‘Lead on, Mr McLeod.’
He lifted the lantern and she followed him into the main tunnel, which ran two hundred yards into the heart of the mountain. There were only a couple of places where he had to duck to avoid cracking his forehead on the ceiling or a beam. Eliza passed beneath them without hindrance.
‘William wrote that when he first came to the Maiden’s Creek Mine th
e main tunnel resembled the hind leg of a dog,’ she said.
Alec laughed. ‘Aye, I’ve read his notes and yes, you can see where it veered off.’ He pointed at a dark tunnel leading from the one they were in. ‘They followed a lead that petered out. He did a fine job straightening the tunnel.’
Faint light and the sound of hammers on metal echoed down the mine. ‘This was his idea too,’ Alec said as they came out into the enormous cavern that served as the plant room. ‘We’ve sunk a shaft to follow the lead but we need to power the winding gear. Most conventional mines would have a poppet head above ground but we have a couple of hundred feet above us before we even hit this level, so Penrose decided we would simply move the equipment needed underground.’
He gestured at the two iron boilers. The older, smaller boiler was in operation, its firehole casting a red, angry glow around the cavern. The new boiler had still not been commissioned as they’d been waiting on the drive shaft that he had brought up from Port Albert. Every time Alec looked at the huge piece of metal, he thought of Penrose’s design, which would deliver a boiler half the size with twice the power output.
He brought his attention back to his guest. Eliza turned on the spot, taking in the scale of the man-made cave.
‘Will did this?’
Not by himself, Alec was tempted to answer. In fact, he doubted Will had even picked up a shovel, but the cave had been constructed according to his plans.
‘He had a good instinct but we need fresh air as we go down so we are starting to cut ventilation shafts from the top.’ Alec patted the new boiler. ‘We’ll have this one running soon and then we can improve the access to the lower levels and use the smaller boiler for the pumps.’
Eliza laughed, a gentle, sweet sound at odds with the industrial surroundings.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You have the same light in your eyes Will used to have. He was always scribbling in his notebooks. Ideas for machines and bits and pieces to make the mines safer and easier to work.’
Alec gave the boiler one last, loving caress. ‘I love machines. I’m fascinated by their workings.’
Eliza smiled. ‘Just like Will.’
As she appeared to be genuinely interested, he took some time explaining the plans for the mine and how Bride’s Reef sloped diagonally from where it had come through at the mine entrance, all the time watching her face for signs of boredom. But her eyes were bright and she nodded and asked questions that revealed her knowledge of mining did indeed run deep.
‘Your brother picked the direction of the reef and had started the deep lead before he left his position here. Again, his instinct was correct. We’ve hit a good seam and we’re following it out.’
Eliza’s eyes narrowed and she drew a deep breath. ‘If his instinct was so good, then why was he so wrong about the Shenandoah Mine?’
Alec frowned. ‘Who said he was wrong?’
‘My uncle. He said the extruding dyke that Will found petered out.’
Alec had never heard a woman use the correct geological term for a quartz reef before. Eliza Penrose went up even further in his estimation.
He shook his head. ‘That wasn’t what he told me.’
‘Have you been up to Shenandoah?’
‘Only the once. Will had a problem with accessing the seam the deeper it went and we discussed the options. I would have said it was a good seam.’
‘Is Jack Tehan any good at what he does?’
Whatever his personal feelings for Black Jack, Alec had to admit, ‘Aye. He’s not got the education your brother had, but they tell me his instincts are good.’
‘But if there’s no gold, then keeping Shenandoah going seems a waste of time and effort.’
Alec wondered how best to answer this observation. He knew Cowper was keeping it going because there was still gold and that gold was being used to bolster the Maiden’s Creek figures. He debated whether Eliza needed to know that but here, where there were plenty of eyes and ears, was not the place to have that talk.
‘It’s taken three years to get any appreciable gold out of this mine and that’s only because we’ve gone down, so until such time as the other shareholders are in a position to make a decision, he may as well keep going.’
Eliza seemed to accept that explanation. She walked over to the shaft and peered into the inky blackness. ‘How far down?’
‘Near fifty yards so far. Puts us about in line with the creek. We’re running the tunnel away from it and there’s some good colour down there but we will need to go down further. To do that we need good pumps to keep the water out, so I need to get this boiler working … Sorry, I’m boring you.’
She shook her head. ‘No, you’re not. Where did you say you were you before Maiden’s Creek, Alec?’
‘Ballarat. Very different terrain to this field,’ he said and added, ‘If you’ve seen enough, Eliza, I best get back to work.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you. It’s meant a great deal to me.’
Back in the outside world it had begun to rain again, water puddling in the rough cobblestones of the courtyard. A horse stood tethered outside the office, its colour obscured by the mud which had covered its legs and spattered up its flanks. The dispirited animal shook its head, sending sprays of water into the air.
‘That’s Tehan’s beast,’ Alec said. He had questions for Jack Tehan concerning the break-in at the cottage. He also had business with Eliza Penrose. First things first.
He glanced at her and cleared his throat.
‘Miss Penrose—Eliza, if the weather is fine on Saturday afternoon, would you care to come for a ride with me? I’m sure you’ve not seen any of the better sights of the valley and there’s a waterfall up one of the gullies that should be flowing well after all this rain.’
Her lips parted in a smile. ‘I would like that. Thank you, Mr McLeod.’
‘Aye, well, I’ll call for you on Saturday.’ He paused. ‘You do ride?’
She nodded and began to speak but they were interrupted by Trevalyn striding across the courtyard, his brow furrowed.
‘You didn’t take her into the mine, did you?’ he demanded of Alec.
Alec had never seen his unflappable foreman quite so angry. ‘Aye, what of it?’
‘Beggin’ your pardon, miss,’ Trevalyn said, pulling his hat from his head, ‘but it’s terrible bad luck to bring a woman into a mine, particularly a redhead.’
‘Superstitious nonsense,’ Alec snapped. He paused. ‘I don’t like the tone of your voice, Trevalyn.’
Trevalyn turned to Eliza, his anger abating. ‘I meant no offence, Miss Penrose, but there’s plenty of men working here who believe that superstitious nonsense.’
The colour had drained from Eliza’s face and she looked up at Alec. ‘I’m sorry, Alec, I didn’t think … I’d forgotten about the superstitions. Father took me down the Tregear Mine once. The men were furious, and he never took me again. Then there were stories about the Knockers.’
‘It’s all nonsense.’ Alec glared at Trevalyn. ‘I would like to think we left such folklore behind in the old country, Trevalyn.’
The foreman’s lips twitched. ‘Aye, well, as Miss Penrose knows, those Knockers are cunning little folk. They could’ve stowed away with any of us. As for the other, my apologies, miss, I spoke out of turn. Good day to you.’
Trevalyn sprinted back across the yard to the workshops.
‘I’m sorry, Eliza. That’s not like Trevalyn,’ Alec said.
‘But he’s right. I should have been more respectful,’ Eliza said. ‘I was brought up around such stories.’ She paused and gave a humourless smile. ‘I don’t suppose it was a tommyknocker that pushed Will to his death?’
Alec hesitated, unsure of how to answer.
‘What was Will doing up here the night he died?’ she asked.
‘No one knows.’
‘Where did he—’ She swallowed. ‘Can you show me?’
The rain had reduced to a few sprinkles so he nodded. �
�If you wish.’ He led her down the lane that ran between the administration office and one of the workshops to the head of the tailings heap that spilled down the hillside to the creek. A drop of fifty yards or so, almost vertical.
‘He wouldn’t have stood a chance,’ she murmured.
‘The men found some dislodged rocks over here.’ Alec pointed. ‘It seemed to indicate that he lost his footing on them and—’
‘Plunged to his death?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Is it possible that he may have been depressed about the failure of the Shenandoah, and …’
Alec stared at her. ‘Are you asking if it is possible he took his own life? There are easier ways for a man to kill himself than throwing himself off a tailings heap.’
Her eyes widened and Alec cursed himself. ‘Pardon my blunt speech.’
‘No apology needed. You’re right, but did you know my father shot himself? It is at the back of my mind that maybe Will …’ She shook her head. ‘I suppose I’ll never know what happened that night.’
As they turned back to the yard, the rain intensified and they took shelter under the eaves of one of the workshops.
‘Perhaps you need to speak with our police sergeant, Maidment,’ Alec said. ‘He’ll have the coroner’s records and maybe he can put your mind at rest.’
Eliza thanked him for the suggestion and indicated the horse. ‘Are you sure that’s Tehan’s horse? I have a message for him.’
‘He’ll be in the office. We’ll have to make a run for it.’
Eliza and Alec burst through the door to the main office, shaking rain from their hair and clothes. Ian McLeod rose from this desk and held out his hand, ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Penrose.’
Eliza smiled and shook his hand. ‘Very pleased to meet you, Mr McLeod,’ she said, unconsciously adopting a deliberately slow and precise speech to accommodate Ian McLeod’s deafness.
‘It’s all right, Miss Penrose,’ Ian replied. ‘I can understand what you say as long as you look at me and speak clearly.’
Embarrassed, she smiled at him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to patronise you.’
Ian shrugged and Alec said, ‘Ian surprises people.’
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