by Helen Watts
Alice felt humbled by her son’s ability to see the best in his father. In spite of all the tension which William caused in their home, his constant nagging at Billy to leave school, and—they had to admit it—his increasing reliance on alcohol to boost his morale, Billy never gave up on him. He always believed that his father would come good. He had even made excuses for him that morning, when it was time to leave for Church and he was still unconscious in his bed. ‘He’s exhausted, Mother,’ Billy had said. ‘God will understand.’
Alice hoped that Billy was right and she prayed that God would also understand why she was no longer finding it easy to be so generous in spirit.
Billy and Alice held back as the congregation filed out of the church at the end of the service, each person stopping in the doorway to shake hands with Reverend Knott and offer him their thanks. When, finally, the last of them had gone, Alice and Billy stepped outside into the crisp September air.
‘You are still coming to the vicarage for lunch?’ asked the vicar, greeting his daughter with a kiss on the cheek.
‘Of course,’ Alice replied, patting her father on the arm.
‘Without William? He is missing lunch as well as the service?’
Alice looked down and spoke to her feet. ‘William is not well, Father. He has to rest.’
The vicar glanced at his grandson, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, but Billy backed up his mother’s statement with a swift nod of his head. In an effort to divert his grandfather from the topic, he began walking towards the rectory.
‘The colours of the leaves are simply gorgeous this time of year, aren’t they, Father?’ asked Alice, with the same intention as Billy.
But her father was not going to allow himself be led off track. ‘Is he so in need of rest that he is unable to give his thanks to God? Surely he could rest after lunch. And besides, why is he in need of all this rest? I heard that all the line was now laid.’
‘That’s right, Father, it is,’ replied Alice, hurrying along between the gravestones. ‘But there’s still an awful lot to do to prepare for the official opening. That’s just two weeks away and everything has to be working smoothly before the first train runs.’
Billy joined in. ‘Most of the workforce has been laid off now, Grandpa. The few that are left are all local men, like Father. Father says the foreman has them running back and forth all the time. Everything has to look spick and span and there are still last-minute adjustments to be made to the line.’
‘Well I do appreciate that there must be a lot of pressure on them,’ the vicar conceded. ‘Richard Greenslade is certainly desperate to get his stone down to London more quickly. I’m surprised he hasn’t insisted that they start sending goods trains down the line already. He’s got a stake in the railway, I believe, so he ought to have a say in what goes on, too.’
They reached the vicarage and went inside. The vicar touched his grandson on the shoulder. ‘Billy, be a good boy and go to the kitchen to tell Cook that we’re back. That roast beef smells more than ready to me.’
As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Alice’s father returned to the topic of his son-in-law. ‘If it really was an exhausting workload that kept that husband of yours in his crib, I might forgive him, but I know that’s not the case. He might be suffering, all right, but not from illness. I know it’s the demon drink! I saw him with my own eyes, staggering homewards up the lane last night, hanging off the shoulders of those friends of his.’
Alice went pale. Tired of constantly covering for her husband, she collapsed into a chair and put her head in her hands.
Her father continued his rant. ‘William should be ashamed of himself, leaving his wife and son at home of an evening with barely a loaf of bread on the table while he spends all the money he earns on ale.’
‘He deserves to let off some steam. I’m not exaggerating the pressure he is under,’ said Alice, blowing her nose into her handkerchief.
‘Maybe not, but you deserve a husband who is well-mannered and doesn’t bring you shame. And I’ll wager he doesn’t treat you well when he gets home full of ale. If he ever gives me reason to suspect that he’s laid a finger on you…’
‘My father would never do that!’ Billy was standing in the doorway, glaring, his fists clenched at his sides. ‘He loves my mother. He’s trying so hard to please everyone—his foreman, Mother, me…and you! He knows he can never please you.’
‘You’re right there, my lad. He’ll never please me as long as he keeps climbing into a cask of ale to drown out his problems.’ The vicar was now in full flow, unable to stop the venomous words spilling from his lips. ‘It’s shameful. After all I’ve done to welcome God into this community. Those quarrymen may have brought wealth to the village but they’ve taken us to the depths of debauchery at the same time, and your father’s at the heart of it. Oh yes. He may have left the quarry face, but he’s still a—what do they call it? A Stonehead at heart.’
‘Shut your mouth!’ Billy, stiff with rage, had taken a step towards his grandfather.
‘Stop it!’ screamed Alice. ‘Both of you. Apologise to your grandfather, Billy, now!’
‘Why me?’ Billy hissed at her through gritted teeth. ‘You heard what he said.’
‘Because he’s your grandfather. He only says it because he loves you, Billy.’ Billy, still fuming, said nothing. ‘Then do it for me,’ pleaded Alice, crossing the room to stand between her son and her father.
Billy’s shoulders dropped. He looked past his mother directly into his grandfather’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Grandpa,’ he croaked. ‘But you’re wrong about Father. He’ll see us right. If the line opens on time, he’ll get two extra months’ pay. We’ll be fine.’
The vicar turned to his daughter. ‘At least let me give you some money until then, Alice. I know how bad things are. You need not tell William.’
Alice wanted to accept, but when she saw the look in Billy’s eye she changed her mind. ‘Thank you, Father, but no. Billy’s right. William is due some extra wages, and he’d be so angry if he knew I had accepted your money. We are already taking your charity by living in your cottage. We must leave the man with some pride.’
‘You mean he still has some of that?’ scoffed the vicar.
‘Father, please!’ cried Alice, exasperated.
‘I’m sorry, my dear, it’s just… Well, you know how I feel.’
The three of them fell into silence; all reluctant participants in an awkward, three-way stand-off, no one wanting or willing to back down. Then they heard Cook’s footsteps approaching in the hallway and the smell of their lunch filled their nostrils once more.
‘That smells wonderful!’ exclaimed the vicar, forcing cheer into his voice. ‘Alice, Billy, we should eat. Oh, and you can take one setting away, thank you, Cook. Unfortunately, there will be only three of us eating, not four, as it should be.’
* * *
Ignoring this last barbed comment, Billy dropped reluctantly into his chair. He had lost his appetite both for lunch and for the fight with his grandfather. It was a battle he knew he could he never win. Nor could he ever completely sympathise with either side. Billy knew that his grandfather’s words, no matter how harsh, sprang from a loving place. He was right to worry about his son-in-law’s drinking, but he misunderstood the reasons for it and would certainly never accept that he was one of those reasons. Billy loved his father. It was as simple as that. If he didn’t stand up for him, no one would.
Chapter 24 – September 2012
At six o’clock sharp, the Hearns’ caravan door opened and Kelly emerged, wrapped up warm against the chilly evening and clutching Ben’s envelope in her hand.
‘Come on, Tyson,’ she said. ‘Mum and Dad say I need you as my minder again.’
She had had to sweet-talk her parents into letting her keep her appointment with Ben. After the previous night’s episode they were less than enthusiastic about her giving Ben another chance. But after she had rattled on all through dinner about the newspaper
cutting, how she hadn’t even told Ben yet about Wilmcote’s connection to the Houses of Parliament, and how she was sure the building of the railway was linked, they relented.
‘We were serious about wanting to meet Ben, though, Kelly,’ Mum reminded her, as she cleared away the plates.
‘Well, he’s coming here tonight, isn’t he?’
‘I thought you were meeting him out on the lane,’ said Dad.
‘Well, yes. I didn’t think it was fair to ask him to come through the gate. It’s a bit daunting, coming onto the site, if you’re not one of us. You know that.’
‘Maybe, but you should bring him in to say hello before he goes,’ Mum insisted. ‘And don’t forget, we want you back by seven again. And no getting up to any mischief.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, you obviously like this boy, and your dad and I are putting a lot of trust in you, letting you go off with him on your own. So you just behave yourself. You know what I mean.’
Kelly squirmed in her seat. ‘Mum! He’s just a friend.’
She couldn’t believe Mum had said that. Clearly, she and Dad had been talking about it when Kelly was not there, and they were obviously keen to get a glimpse of Ben because she was sure the caravan curtains twitched as she walked away. She was doubly pleased she had told Ben to meet her outside the campsite gate where he would be out of their line of sight. She only hoped that he had got her message and would turn up.
As she led Tyson round the corner, Kelly let out a sigh of relief. He was there, waiting patiently, kicking stones off the grass verge into the lane. Tyson barked and pulled her towards him.
‘You got my note,’ she cried out. ‘I was worried you wouldn’t see it in time.’
Ben looked a little surprised. ‘Note? Oh, yes. Of course. I knew you wanted to see me.’
Kelly glanced back over her shoulder. ‘I’m not the only one,’ she muttered under her breath.
‘What was that?’ asked Ben.
‘Oh nothing. It’s just my mum and dad. They want to meet you. I think they think that we’re…you know…more than just…’
‘More than just what?’ Ben looked baffled.
‘Well, more than just friends.’ Kelly giggled, her face turning red.
‘Oh, I think I see what you mean.’ Ben giggled back.
‘Thanks for coming, though, Ben. And thanks for the apology.’ She held up the envelope.
Ben smiled. ‘I wasn’t talking about you, when I said that thing about tinkers. I didn’t mean it about anyone, really. It’s just something my grandfather says sometimes.’
‘Your grandfather? You’ve never mentioned him before. Is he still alive?’
‘No. No, he’s not,’ said Ben quietly.
He looked sad, so Kelly switched the conversation back onto the envelope. ‘Giving me the map was a good enough apology, but that newspaper cutting! That swung it. I knew I had to see you when I read that.’
‘What cutting?’ asked Ben, looking perplexed.
‘The one in the envelope with the map.’
Ben shook his head. ‘I found that envelope in the same place as the map. I thought it was empty. I just used it to keep the map dry. A cutting from a newspaper, you say?’
‘Yes. It’s about an accident, on the railway line, here in Wilmcote, in September 1860. Four people were killed.’
Ben staggered slightly. Noticing, Kelly sat down on the grass, ignoring the fact that it was still slightly damp, and gestured to Ben to join her. Tyson instantly leapt onto Ben’s lap and began licking his face. Ben pushed his muzzle away. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he stammered.
‘Yeah, I know. It’s weird, huh? It must have happened around the time when the railway line first opened. But listen, do you know what else was going on in 1860?’
Ben swallowed, drew Tyson towards him again and shook his head.
‘The Houses of Parliament were being rebuilt, down in London. There had been a massive fire. And can you guess one of the materials they used to build it?’
They answered in unison: ‘Wilmcote stone.’
Kelly felt on fire with excitement. She knew that her history project was going to be the best she had ever done. She had such a great story to tell. It had local interest, involved big business deals and one of the country’s most famous buildings—and now, apparently, a tragedy.
‘What else does it say in the news story?’ asked Ben.
Kelly read out the entire contents of the clipping.
‘A freak, tragic accident,’ Ben repeated, staring out into space.
‘I know. What do you think that means? Who do you think got killed? Passengers? The railway line can’t have been open for long in September1860, so if it was passengers, they must have been some of the first ones.’
Ben nudged Tyson off his lap and rubbed his face with his hands. ‘If it was passengers then the news story would say something about a crash, surely. Something bad would have happened to the engine or the carriages. And you would expect there to be some mention of other people being injured as well.’
‘Good thinking, Sherlock,’ said Kelly.
‘Who?’
‘Sherlock Holmes, you idiot,’ sniggered Kelly. Ben didn’t laugh. Kelly got to her feet, wiped the wet blades of grass off the seat of her jeans, and began pacing up and down. ‘If the victims weren’t passengers, then they had to have been workers. Maybe something went wrong. Maybe they were hurt while they were working on the line.’
‘I think that’s what happened,’ he agreed. ‘And if the railway company was accused of…what did they say?’ He looked at the clipping. ‘…negligence and mismanagement, then someone obviously thought they were to blame.’
Kelly stopped pacing. She had remembered something that she read on the internet at school.
‘The building work on the Houses of Parliament was overrunning by miles,’ she announced, expecting everything to make sense to Ben. He shook his head, obviously at a loss to understand where she was going with her logic.
‘The architect—Charles Barry, he was called—he said the new Parliament buildings would only take him six years to complete, but he was still working on them in 1860. That was twenty years after they laid the first foundation stone. Now that’s what I call a man under pressure.’ Kelly felt decidedly pleased with herself. She could have been a lawyer, laying out her case in court. She pointed at Ben, like a witness in the witness box. ‘And what causes more hold-ups than anything on a building project?’
‘Er…’ Ben looked blank.
‘Oh come on, don’t you ever watch Grand Designs? Suppliers, that’s what! Suppliers who let you down, who are late with their deliveries. Suppliers like Wilmcote quarry! My guess is that the new railway line was crucial to Wilmcote quarry. Having a train track right next to the quarry must have meant they could move their stone about faster than they ever could before by canal.’
‘They were desperate to get the line finished,’ added Ben, picking up on Kelly’s line of thought. ‘So they were rushing it.’
‘Exactly!’ replied Kelly, triumphantly, retaking her place next to Ben on the grass, satisfied that her case was closed.
‘But the newspaper story does say that the railway company was found not guilty,’ Ben reminded her.
‘I know. But it wouldn’t be the first time that a powerful company with deep pockets managed to wriggle off the hook. I think there’s more to it. That cutting comes from The Stratford-upon-Avon Times, for heaven’s sake. It was a local paper. Surely they ought to have made more of a story about four local people being killed. I mean, that’s such a short piece, and they don’t even name the victims. And look.’ She took the piece of paper from Ben and pointed to the edges. ‘It looks like the story was tucked away in the bottom corner of the page. Call me cynical, but it’s almost like they were trying to bury it.’
The pair sat in silence for a few moments, mulling everything over, with Tyson stretched out between them, enjoying some fuss.
‘What do you reckon, Tyson?’ Kelly cooed at the little dog as she tickled him behind the ear. ‘Perhaps I should take you for another walk by the railway. Maybe you could dig up some clues. You’re good at digging, aren’t you?’
Ben recoiled, as if someone had slapped him round the face.
‘Are you okay, Ben?’ Kelly enquired. ‘You’ve gone awfully white. You look like you’re about to throw up.’
‘I’m fine,’ replied Ben quickly. ‘But that boot. Can I see it?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Kelly, getting straight to her feet. ‘I forgot. You didn’t actually see it last time, did you? It’s back in a box in my room. Why don’t you come and get it with me? You can meet Mum and Dad at the same time. That’ll keep them happy.’
‘Er, do you mind if I don’t?’ stammered Ben. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to meet them. It’s just…well, I do feel a bit sick after all. I think I’d better just wait here, for now, if that’s all right.’
Kelly didn’t argue. Spewing all over the caravan would not get Ben off to a good start with Mum and Dad. Leaving Tyson with him, she ran back and began to scramble over the gate. She heard Ben calling after her.
‘You know you said your dad was clearing the embankment? Does that mean he would have a map of this stretch of the line?’
‘Bound to,’ shouted Kelly. ‘I’ll ask.’
Mum and Dad were curled up on the sofa watching TV when Kelly appeared in the doorway. They looked expectantly at her.
‘I’m not coming back in yet,’ she announced breathlessly. ‘I just need to get something.’
Before Mum and Dad could argue she disappeared into her room, emerging less than thirty seconds later, clutching the old leather boot in her hand.
‘Everything okay?’ asked Mum, looking puzzled.