The kindness was too much. As they followed in a small procession across the farmyard which smelt strongly of cows and manure, Eve swallowed against the lump blocking her throat. It wasn’t raining but the sky was grey and overcast and it was cold, a north-easterly wind chaffing her face.
‘Wipe your feet there.’ A huge cork mat lay at the threshold of the great stone-floored kitchen and they did as they were told, then stared open-mouthed at the room in front of them: the whitewashed walls, shining copper pans, dresser laden with brightly coloured crockery and two black settles strewn with red cushions. But it was the long wooden table that held their eyes.The remains of what clearly had been breakfast had not yet been cleared away and the big loaf and pat of butter and plates holding traces of fried bacon and eggs made their saliva flow.
A roaring fire was blazing in the enormous range between two big bread ovens, and now the farmer’s wife said, ‘Have a warm while I clear away these dirty dishes. My lot are messy eaters, bless ’em.’
‘Let me help you.’
As Eve made a move, the farmer’s wife flapped her hand. ‘I’m all right, lass. I made a pot of tea before I came for you. There’s three mugs on the dresser and milk and sugar on the table. Sort yourself out and I’ll get the bacon on.You all like bacon and eggs?’
Eve was so hungry she had to swallow twice before she could say, ‘Yes please.’
Once they were seated at the table sipping the hot, sweet tea, Eve glanced at her sisters. Their faces held the rapt look hers probably did. The only time they had had sugar in their tea at home had been on high days and holidays, and it had always been porridge for breakfast. Over the last days she had been too worried about money to even buy milk, they had slaked their thirst at the streams they’d found, and each mouthful of food had been chewed slowly and carefully to make it last. She knew Mary and Nell had been constantly hungry although they hadn’t complained.
They had had two cups of tea by the time the farmer’s wife slapped three plates of bacon and egg in front of them, after which she cut thick slices off the loaf of bread and spread them liberally with the rich golden butter. ‘Help yourselves, there’s plenty more where that came from.’ She glanced at them in turn. ‘This’ll keep you going for a while, eh?’
Eve’s voice broke as she said, ‘Thank you, thank you very much.’
The farmer’s wife busied herself about the kitchen until they had eaten their fill and were sitting back in their seats, replete for the first time in days. She joined them at the table, pouring herself a cup of tea and sitting down before she said, ‘So, where are you heading for?’
Eve stared at her helplessly. ‘Anywhere we can find work.’ When they had knocked on the farmhouse door the previous evening she had told the farmer’s wife her father and brothers had been killed in an accident at the pit the week before and as it was a tied house they’d been turned out on their ear. It was stretching the truth a little but now she elaborated on this, saying, ‘Nell and I have been used to domestic work in the past but we don’t mind what we do.’
‘Aye, well, it’s a town you need, lass. You won’t pick up much in the country, not now the tattie pulling is dwindling and all the part-time work.You heard of the Gateshead hirings at the Michaelmas Fair?’
They shook their heads.
‘That’s your best bet, to my mind.You get all sorts there, wanting this an’ that. Course there’s never so much doing as in the summer but there’s always domestics wanted, some to live in and some out.’ Her gaze rested on Mary for a moment. ‘It might be a mite difficult for you to get somewhere living in, mind.’
‘That wouldn’t matter. If Nell and I were earning we could rent a room.’
The farmer’s wife didn’t comment on this but her face expressed doubt.
Refusing to have her hope squashed, Eve said, ‘When is the Michaelmas Fair?’
‘Why, today, lass.’The farmer’s wife seemed amazed she did not know this. ‘In Saltwell Park.They do the hirings near the bandstand.’
‘Could you tell us how to get there?’
‘Aye, I can do that. It’s a bit of a walk, mind, but you’ll be there midday if you put your best foot forward and likely there’ll be folk hiring until twilight. Now, do you want another cup of tea afore you go?’
Eve stood up, Mary and Nell following her lead. ‘No, but thank you. We’d better go.’ She glanced at their empty plates. ‘What do I owe you?’
‘I told you, lass. Nowt. Now you get off and good luck. I’ll be saying a little prayer for you the day.’
Their stomachs full and the farmer’s wife’s good wishes ringing in their ears, they began at a brisk pace. It was an hour before the rain began, but when it did it was nothing like the drizzle of the day before. Long before they reached the outskirts of Gateshead they were soaked through to their skin, the biting wind whipping their sodden clothes about them and their faces blotchy and numb.
Fear had taken hold of Eve. She didn’t mind being wet, not for herself, and Nell was as strong as an ox, but Mary was different. She herself was thin - scrawny, some of the unkinder lads at school had called her - but Mary had a fragility that, combined with her blonde curls and translucent skin, made her fairylike.And her cough was worse. Much worse. Handing her parcel to Nell, Eve turned to Mary. ‘Climb on my back and I’ll give you a piggy but don’t strangle me, mind.’
Mary didn’t need to be told twice. Nell held out her hand with a resigned air and Mary gave her her parcel before scrambling on to Eve’s back. She buried her face in Eve’s neck, seeking her sister’s body warmth like a small baby animal.
Once they were on their way again, Mary shut her eyes, trying to imagine she was home and warm and safe. The rain gusted against them but she was protected to some extent now and felt a measure of comfort. She wished she was back at the Finnigans’. She coughed, wincing as her chest hurt. She hadn’t liked what Mr Finnigan had made her do but she missed Hannah and her friends. And it’d been warm there and Phoebe’s meals had been grand. She hated being cold and wet. She hated it when they’d had to sleep outside. Most of all she hated this tramping about from place to place. It was all right for Nell, she didn’t mind walking.
She coughed again, and when Eve said, ‘You all right, hinny?’ she mumbled a reply.
Nell had been nasty to her this morning.Resentment against her sister flared. All she’d done was to whisper to Nell that she didn’t want to go to Gateshead and she didn’t see why they couldn’t go back to Stanley and Nell had nearly bit her head off. And saying that this was her fault. Hurt at her sister’s hard-heartedness brought tears pricking at the back of her eyes. It wasn’t her fault. Eve had said it wasn’t. Nell was horrible and she’d always been jealous because Mr Finnigan hadn’t made a fuss of her.
She glanced at her sister trudging along at the side of them, burdened by the weight of their things. Rain was dripping off Nell’s nose and her felt hat hung limply round her face. When in the next moment Nell stumbled and nearly went headlong, Mary smiled to herself.
Nell caught the smile and knew exactly what Mary was thinking. She would have liked nothing more than to take her hand and wipe the smile off her sister’s pretty face, but of course she couldn’t. She ground her teeth and marched on. She wasn’t sorry she’d gone for Mary earlier, she was sick to death of her. Mary was bone selfish and always would be. Look how she’d lorded it over her when Mr Finnigan had given her those hair ribbons for her birthday, twirling them in front of her nose. Mary always had to be the centre of attention, it’d been the same since she was a toddler.
She shouldn’t have said what she’d said, though. The guilt she’d been battling against since she had lost her temper with her sister rose up. Mr Finnigan had been wicked and Eve would go barmy if Mary told her what she’d said. She hadn’t meant to lose her rag but Mary’s griping had made her mad. Mary knew full well they couldn’t go back. She just hoped they found work at the hirings; Eve’s money wouldn’t last for ever.
&nb
sp; Eve was thinking the same thing. She had been amazed at how expensive buying their food had proved, she could have made three or four loaves of bread for the price of one in a shop. But it was her inability to provide a roof over their heads which was her main worry. And here they were looking like drowned rats and Mary’s cough like a bark now - that’d put folk off.And how many people would come to the hirings on a day like this? The weather would be bound to put potential employers off. Mind, it might reduce the number of folk who were seeking to be hired too. She hoped so, they needed every advantage they could get. If she and Nell could get work, they could manage for a week or so until they got their wages and could look for somewhere to stay. There must be another kind farmer round this area somewhere who had a barn they could sleep in, or even someone with a tin shack on their allotment. Her da had had an allotment at one time and the little hut he’d made there had kept the rain off. Anything was better than nothing. She would beg, plead, anything.
She hoisted Mary further up her back. It felt as though it was breaking. But everything depended on their finding work. There had to be one person in the whole of the north-east who would give them a chance. Didn’t there?
They reached Saltwell Park just before one o’clock, the bad weather having hampered their progress. After getting directions they made their way past the bowling green and the aviaries full of twittering birds. The rain had at long last let up, a weak sun occasionally popping its head out from behind the grey scudding clouds, but the day was cold. September was all but over, winter was round the corner.
They heard the music from the fair’s merry-go-round before they saw the bandstand, but on turning a corner, green lawns stretched in front of them and the sprawling stalls of the Michaelmas Fair met their eyes. Setting Mary down, Eve took her bundle from Nell and made Mary do the same. There weren’t many people walking round the fair, no doubt due to the morning’s rain, but she saw a line of folk standing by the bandstand and her heart sank. There were several men and quite a few women and girls of her age or older, and even a couple of families at one end. More people than she had hoped for certainly.They approached the bandstand and joined the line next to one of the families. The woman glanced at them and nodded, but she did not speak. Eve realised no one was talking.
About twenty minutes later a stout gentleman dressed like one of the gentry approached the line. He walked down it slowly and then stopped in front of the man of the family next to them. Eve received a surprise when the man spoke because his accent was broad, coarse even.‘How many of you are there?’
‘Six, sir.’ The man’s eagerness was pitiful.
‘I’m looking for a labourer who isn’t afraid of hard work and a woman who’s experienced in the dairy.’
‘That’ll be us, sir. Fifteen years we’ve been with Farmer Armstrong, Wickham way, and the wife in the dairy all that time along with helping the missus in the house. The master died three months ago and the son’s selling—’
‘Yes, yes.’ He was impatient. ‘And your lads?’ Hard eyes weighed up the couple’s children. ‘How old are they?’
‘The youngest is six, sir, and the oldest’ll be thirteen next summer.’
‘So they could be put to use when they’re back from school.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘Religion?’
The man glanced at his wife and hesitated. He was obviously trying to work out what the farmer wanted to hear. After a moment it was the wife who ventured, ‘Church of England, sir.’
The farmer nodded. ‘Good, good. I can’t abide this so-called Nonconformist claptrap and the Catholics are worse.’The small eyes in the fleshy face studied the family again, for all the world as though he was buying cattle for his farm. ‘There’s a two-roomed cottage, clean and dry, and a sack of tatties each week, along with plenty of logs and bits of wood for the range. You’d get ten shillings to start with.’
Eve stared at the farmer. Ten shillings a week for this man and woman working all hours and their children too once they were home from school? Surely he would ask for more. And then the man’s voice came, quiet and servile. ‘Thank you, sir, and you won’t regret it. By, you won’t. It’s grateful we are and—’
Again he was silenced by a wave of the farmer’s hand.‘It’s Willow Farm, Felling way. I’m Farmer Burns. Be there tonight by seven o’clock and one of my men will be waiting for you. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir, I understand.’
‘You have furniture, I take it?’
‘Aye, the wife’s sisters have it in their houses but I can get a flat cart from—’
‘Seven then. Prompt.’ With that he walked off, the tails of his coat flapping.
Once the farmer had disappeared, the wife said in a low voice, ‘Ten shillings, Jim.’
‘It’s better than nowt.’The man’s tone had altered, it was harsh, choked. ‘He knows he’s got us over a barrel. It’s the worst time of year to get the push and at least there’s a house. We’ll manage. It’ll be better than at your mam’s. Not that I’m not grateful to her but with her only having the two rooms and your da and Don on shift work, it’s been murder.’
‘Better than the workhouse.’
‘Aye, lass. Better than the house.’
The two looked at each other for a long moment and then gathered the children together and walked slowly away.
Eve glanced at her sisters. They both looked blue with cold. She supposed she did. She bowed her head, she had a great desire at this moment to cry but she must not. Fumbling in the deep pocket of her coat she found the cloth bag holding what remained of the six shillings. Extracting a thruppeny bit, she pressed it into Mary’s hand, saying, ‘Go and buy yourself a mug of soup at one of the stalls. It’ll warm you and stop that cough. And bring me back the change, mind.’
Mary was off in a trice and as they watched her go, Eve touched Nell’s arm. ‘It’s her cough . . .’
‘I know, I know, don’t fret. I’m all right. That breakfast will do us the day, eh?’
As she had done often over the past days, Eve thanked God for Nell.The two sisters smiled at each other but said no more.
The afternoon wore on. By four o’clock their numbers had been considerably reduced but no one had stopped in front of them, not even for a moment. One or two people had turned their heads as Mary had coughed but their faces had expressed all too clearly what they were thinking.A cold, silver twilight was beginning to fall and the lights from the stalls were brighter in the gloom when yet another man approached the remaining hirelings. No one had shown any interest in over an hour and now Eve felt the stir of hope move down the line. The other family had disappeared a little while earlier after one of the children had been sick, and of the three men and six or seven females - two older women and several girls who looked to be sixteen or more - standing there, Eve knew they all presented a better picture than she and Nell did.
The man was young, tallish, and although his coat and trousers looked to be of good quality he wasn’t got up like the farmer had been or some of the other men who had stopped in front of the line. He walked slowly and she saw straightaway he was looking to hire a female because he didn’t even glance at the men. He stopped in front of one girl - a pert piece, Nell had termed her a little while before - and spoke to her for a minute or two before moving on. And then he was about to pass her and Eve felt a wave of terror encompass her. This was their last hope, it was nearly dark, and if he walked away what were they going to do? Against everything she had observed during the afternoon, she spoke first, saying, ‘Please, sir.’
He turned, his face expressing surprise. ‘Yes?’
She didn’t know what to say now that she had got his attention. Only the knowledge that she had to try or they were lost forced the words out of her dry mouth. ‘We . . . my sister and I are looking for work, any kind of work.’
He nodded, his gaze moving to Nell and then back to her before falling on Mary.
In answer to the unspoken question, she found hers
elf beginning to gabble. ‘This is my other sister, she’s small but she’s stronger than she looks.’ Mary chose that moment to cough convulsively but, ignoring her, Eve carried on, ‘My da and brothers were killed at the pit and it was a tied house so we had to leave. We didn’t have anywhere to go and so we’re looking for work.’ She had already said that. Desperately she searched her mind for something to say that would keep him in front of them.
‘How old are you?’
She didn’t falter as she said, ‘Fifteen, sir, and my sister’s thirteen.’
His face expressed his disbelief but his voice was flat when he said, ‘And the bairn?’
She could tell the truth about Mary. ‘She was ten in July.’
‘You say you had nowhere to go?’
‘No, sir.’
‘So where are you staying at present?’
For answer, she said, ‘Last night we slept in a barn.’
He didn’t speak for a moment but looked the three of them over again. Eve could tell he was uncomfortable and wanted to move on but she had run out of words.
‘I was only looking for one domestic to work in my inn.’
‘I see.’ Her voice had a dull note to it.
‘Isn’t there somewhere or someone who could take the child off your hands? Your sister and yourself would find work then.’
‘I don’t want her off my hands.’ She had answered more sharply than she’d intended. Weakly now, she added, ‘We’re staying together, the three of us. We-we’ll find somewhere.’ She didn’t know why she had said that, perhaps it was because he was looking so ill at ease. She almost felt sorry for him.
He nodded, turning from her and walking on. Her shoulders slumped but then she brought herself straight as he swung round and came back. ‘There’s only one attic room at the inn for the three of you and I can’t offer much but if you are both prepared to work then perhaps I can take you on.’ He was speaking quickly as though he was already regretting the offer. ‘My mother isn’t too well, you see. Up until now she worked in the kitchen. I take it you can cook?’
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