by Annie Murray
‘So,’ she probed, ‘Sal and Charlie’ve been knocking about for quite a time?’
‘Ooh yes – din’t yer know, Flo?’
‘Well, of course I knew.’ She could hardly let Cathleen Black realize she’d had no idea Sal could prefer spending her evenings in this slovenly household. ‘What I daint know was she was hanging round with some idle good-for-nothing who’d make off with ’er to Christ only knows where!’
Cathleen rounded on her. ‘Don’t you come ’ere carrying on about my son like that! Your Sal wouldn’t’ve gone off with ’im if she weren’t a little trollop – you obviously ain’t seen the way ’er’s been carrying on lately or yer wouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You want to pay a bit of attention instead of preening yerself, Flo Griffin, with yer frocks and yer warpaint. Looking down yer nose at my family – we may be rough and ready but we rub along. You want to look at what’s going on under yer nose, ’cause one thing’s for certain – your Sal never wanted to go back ’ome when she were ’ere, and that’s a fact.’
‘Don’t you talk to me like that, yer filthy slut!’ Flo yelled back. ‘Yer the lowest of the low you are – look at this place! I’m surprised that babby of yours ’as survived in this filth. You ain’t any place to carry on at me with yer drunken husband and yer bloody idle sons. I just ’ope our Sal comes to her senses before long and gets ’erself back ’ere because what sort of life’s she gunna ’ave with one of your lot, eh?’
Flo stormed out of the Blacks’ house and across the yard, all too aware that her old neighbours had probably heard all that loud and clear.
Life for Maryann at home had become one of constant fear and dread. Every time she stepped into the house she began to feel sick. The very walls were tainted with Norman Griffin. Once she heard him come home she could never relax for a moment. His eyes seemed to be on her so much of the time, watching, waiting. Her mom showed no sign of having believed what she’d told her. There was no one she could trust or rely on. She missed Sal dreadfully. School was the one thing that got her out of the house: it was somewhere to go.
One morning, though, as they were all having breakfast, Norman said to Flo, ‘Our Maryann’s almost finished with school now. When can she leave?’
‘She’s got to see out till the end of term,’ Flo said. ‘She ain’t fourteen till September.’
‘Well—’ Norman sat back at the table. Maryann watched him link his hands over his belly. ‘No need to see out the last stretch, is there? Dragging it out, that’s all, when ’er’s fit and ready for work. Let’s ’ave ’er take over where Sal left off – I’m short-handed and I could do with it. Start ’er straight away.’
Even Flo was not oblivious to the pleading look of horror on Maryann’s face, and Cathleen Black’s remarks hadn’t entirely passed her by.
‘But, Norman – if Maryann leaves early she won’t get her bit of paper from the school and that – for getting work.’
‘Well, she won’t need it if she’s coming to work with me, will she? I’d see ’er awright, Flo, you know that. I say start ’er today – soon as possible.’
‘No, Mom.’ Maryann’s tone was desperate. ‘I ’ave to stay – Miss Bentley said. I do ’ave to!’
‘It’s only another couple of weeks, Norman,’ Flo reasoned. ‘Then she’ll be ready for yer.’
Norman pushed his chair back and leaned over to kiss the top of Flo’s head. Maryann looked away.
‘Awright then, my sweet. Whatever you say. You can twist me round yer little finger, can’t you?’
Maryann looked back in time to see Flo glancing at her. She experienced a rare moment of gratitude towards her mother.
‘I do think it’s for the best, Norman. I’m thinking of Maryann’s future.’
After school every day she haunted the cut. She left message after message at the toll houses and was becoming a familiar figure to the workers there.
‘Look,’ one of them said to her that week. ‘I think they’ll be through in the next couple of days if they’re on the normal run. I’ll make sure they get yer message.’
The next couple of days! Maryann could think of nothing else. But suppose she missed them? What if they came through when she was at school? She had to see them, to see Joel above all, hear his lovely country accent. The very thought of him was comforting. She didn’t know what she could say to him, she couldn’t tell him what was happening to her, that she would not, could not work for Norman Griffin, not for anything ever. But she did know he was the one person with whom she felt safe and happy. And she liked Ada, with her raucous voice and cheeky face as well. She longed to see the Esther Jane come gliding along the cut with Bessie plodding alongside.
The next day she was so keyed up with nerves she could hardly stand it. She set off to school with Tony and his pal Alec. She waved them off at the boys’ entrance.
‘See yer later, Tony!’ But he hardly took any notice, he was so thick with Alec. Maryann smiled with relief. She was glad Tony had such a good pal. She didn’t feel able to give him any attention herself.
She looked round, making sure none of her own classmates was in sight, and darted off again down the road, looping round the back and along to where she knew she could get down to the cut. In each of her pockets was tucked a piece of bread she had sneaked from the kitchen. That’d keep her going. This could be the day they came and she couldn’t miss it – just couldn’t!
They came in the late afternoon, when the sun was sinking behind strips of candyfloss cloud. She saw them as they drew into view near Soho Loop. Peering into the smoky gloom she wasn’t sure at first. There was the horse, all her white splotches standing out, no one walking with her on the bank. Maryann ran forward to meet her. A train clattered over the iron bridge across the loop, but Bessie barely even twitched her ears. It was her, and there was Joel, she could see now, standing majestically at the tiller. The boat was clothed up, tarpaulins tied over to cover the cargo, so she couldn’t see what was in there. They must’ve come through rain.
‘Joel! Joel!’ Maryann bounced up and down, waving, saw him turn his head, then the slow arc of his wave back to her. Could she see his smile, or did she imagine that? After a moment she saw Darius’s head appear out of the cabin and he waved as well.
‘Shall I walk along with Bessie?’ Maryann shouted.
Joel nodded. ‘We’ll need yer!’
‘Where’s Ada?’
His voice floated over to her. ‘Gone.’
Gone? It was too far to talk properly. She’d have to ask when they stopped. Where could Ada have ‘gone’? And where was Jep? She patted Bessie’s neck, feeling the dried sweat on it.
‘Have you had a hard day, Bessie? Poor old girl – you’ll soon be there and have yer nostern.’
She felt proud, knowing a word of the canal dialect. It was different, the way they spoke. Birmingham was Birnigum. She’d heard Darius call Rugby ‘Ruckby’, and Ada had run together the names ‘Fellows, Morton and Clayton’ as if she had no idea where each began and ended. Reading and writing was a mystery to her. She had no pictures of words in her head to know the edges of them.
The city closed in on them and every so often there was a horse bridge where Bessie had to be led over. It grew darker and darker, the blackened walls and filthy overhead enclosure of roads, railways, mills and foundries. The canal had been so built over that in parts it was so dark the gas lamps burned day and night. The water was horrible here, choked with scum and oil and refuse. No wonder Joel said Birmingham was always the grimmest part of their journey. Once she saw a man’s sleeping body slumped by the wall at the side, which she mistook at first for a pile of rags. She shuddered. The place felt gloomy and hostile and she was glad Joel was not far away.
Eventually he shouted to her that they were to turn into the private wharf to unload. As the Esther Jane pulled in, Joel stepped across on to the bank, ruffled Maryann’s hair in greeting and handed her the nostern containing Bessie’s feed just as if she was Ada. Maryann grinn
ed and tried not to show she was struggling as she fastened it on.
She knew the next couple of hours would be spent unloading. She left Bessie for a moment and went timidly up to Joel.
‘Shall I make you and Mr Bartholomew a cuppa tea?’
‘That’d be grand.’ Joel’s brow wrinkled. ‘Think you can manage it?’
Maryann grinned. ‘Just ’cos I’m off the bank don’t mean I don’t know ’ow to do nothing.’
‘Go on with you then.’
He walked off, smiling. He seemed well and cheerful.
She was dying to ask where Ada was, and Jep, but she knew they were preoccupied. In the meantime she stoked the little range in the cabin, filled the kettle from the water can, which was always in place on the cabin roof, and put it on the heat. When it was ready she took the tea out to them, Joel winking at her in thanks. She made herself busy then, looking for a spot where the water didn’t look too mired up to pull bucketfuls out to do some cleaning. However did Joel and Mr Bartholomew manage to keep things clean without Ada?
She found they weren’t managing all that perfectly and the cabin was well in need of a scrub. To the grunts and shouts of the men unloading the firebricks outside, she wiped down the shelves and surfaces in the cabin, moving things off carefully and replacing them. She eyed the crochet pieces along the shelves, the precious work of the real Esther Jane. It was grimy grey in colour.
‘I’d give you a wash given the chance,’ Maryann said, stroking a hand over it. ‘But there ain’t no time for that now.’
She swept and scrubbed and kept the range going and eventually all the unloading was done and she stood up on the steering platform, watching as Joel and his father finished off with the factory men and finally turned back to the boat.
Joel climbed aboard, followed by Darius, who gave her a nod.
‘I’m going for water, Joel,’ he said, and went off with the can.
Joel and Maryann went into the cabin and he sat on the bench, looking at her with amusement in his eyes.
‘So, little Maryann Nelson. Can’t keep away from the cut then?’
She beamed. ‘No, I can’t. D’yer like what I’ve done?’
Joel looked vaguely round the cabin.
‘I’ve been cleaning for yer.’
‘Ta. She could do with it.’
‘Where’s Ada gone?’
‘Oh, working another boat, the Lucy – another of the Number Ones. Their little ’uns’re all grown now and they needed some ’elp.’
‘But to send ’er off without you!’
‘It’s done on the cut. Times are hard, Maryann – more boats than cargoes these days and we’re all chasing the work. You don’t keep moving, you don’t eat. Ada’s a good little crew – she’ll earn ’er keep on there. They let her take Jep with her.’
‘But don’t you need her?’
‘We could do with ’er, but needs must. Good job you came today to find us. We’re starting a new route tomorrow. Going south, Oxford way, back to where us came from. Any’ow—’ He rubbed his hand wearily over his face. ‘I’d best start on cooking.’ He pulled a paper bag with some bacon in it off the shelf and put a pan on the stove.
‘How’s our Maryann then?’
The question was asked lightly but it brought tears flooding to her eyes. Oh Joel, she wanted to cry out, help me! Please help me!
‘I’m awright.’
Joel turned to look at her. ‘Don’t sound too happy to me.’
Maryann didn’t say anything. She shrugged and sat watching Joel as he went back to work. He cut thick chunks of bread. She wanted to touch him, feel close to someone. Most of all she wanted to curl up in his arms for comfort, like a child.
‘Joel—’ she burst out at last. She wanted to speak to him before Darius got back because she was more shy of talking in front of him.
‘What’s that?’
‘Please let me come with yer! I could help – do all the things Ada ain’t ’ere to do, like cleaning and stabling Bessie and . . . and everything. And I wouldn’t get in yer way and I don’t eat much, honest I don’t!’
‘No, I shouldn’t think yer do, the look of yer.’ Joel sat back and gently put his arm round her. She leaned against him, feeling the great warmth he gave off. ‘Maryann – what’s wrong with being at ’ome with yer own folk, eh?’
‘I just – nothing. Only I know they won’t miss me, not at all. There’s nowt happening now – it’s the summer holiday and it’d be awright, I promise.’
She knew Joel would have no idea when school terms began and ended. ‘I ain’t fourteen until the autumn and then I’ll ’ave to start work, but I could come with yer till then – my mom’ll be glad to get me out of the way!’
She felt Joel looking at her, his face close to hers.
‘Well – I dunno,’ he said eventually, sitting back. ‘It’s one thing having an extra from another boat, but one off the bank is different.’
‘I’ll learn. I’ll do anything!’ Maryann begged excitedly. She touched Joel’s hand. ‘Please. I don’t know how else to tell yer ’ow much I want to come with yer!’
‘Oh, yer not doing too badly,’ Joel said wryly. ‘But I don’t want it causing no trouble, them turning up saying we’ve taken yer off or anything.’
‘No – I’ll go ’ome and tell them. I’ll get some things. Oh Joel!’ She was jigging up and down with longing to hear the word ‘yes’ come out from Joel’s lips.
‘Well—’ he said again, ruminatively. Then looked round at her. ‘Go ’ome and see. If it’s awright, meet us back here with your things tomorrow – not too much mind. We’ll be gone before daybreak so make it early.’
‘Oh!’ Maryann’s face was alight. ‘Oh Joel, you’re the best!’
Sixteen
She was back at the wharf by five in the morning in a light mizzling rain, her coat pulled round her and a bundle of belongings in her arms. On her bed she had left a note:
Dear Mom,
I am going away for a bit. Don’t worry I’ll be safe, no need to look for me.
Maryann.
She had crept downstairs, weak-kneed with anxiety, and once she reached the street she tore along until she’d turned a corner, convinced she was going to hear a shout or running feet behind her and equally anxious in case the Esther Jane had already left without her.
The men were up and having breakfast when she arrived, frantic and panting, and she climbed on to the steering platform helped by Joel’s outstretched hand.
‘Morning, nipper.’ He gave his slow smile. His cap was shiny with minute droplets of rain.
Maryann grinned, overjoyed. She was here – at last!
Joel sat her down inside and handed her a cup of tea and a thick, man-size wedge of bread.
‘I don’t know as I can eat all that,’ she said.
‘I should get it down you. You’ll need it.’
Darius Bartholomew had not said a word in greeting, so Maryann turned to him. ‘Morning, Mr Bartholomew.’
In reply she received a reluctant-sounding grunt from behind the magnificent white beard, but Darius didn’t meet her eye. After a few moments, chewing on the last of the bread, he got up, bending over as usual in the low cabin, stuck his hat on and ducked out through the door.
The joy had faded on Maryann’s face. ‘’E don’t want me ’ere, does ’e, Joel?’
Joel finished his mouthful, ruminatively. You couldn’t hurry these men into speech.
‘’E’s glad of an extra pair of hands. It’s only that, well, living on a boat’s quite a close life, intimate like. It’ll take a bit of getting used to, someone about who ent family. But we’ll manage. Plenty of others do.’
‘I’ll do whatever you want,’ Maryann said desperately. ‘I’ll do yer washing, cooking – anything, only let me come. Don’t send me back ’ome!’
Joel ruffled her hair again. ‘I know yer will. We’ll manage for a round trip. Don’t you fret.’
When Darius came back, Joel went out
and spoke to him, the two of them standing over by the stack of firebricks, and when they came back in, Darius nodded at Maryann.
‘Mornin’.’
‘Morning, Mr Bartholomew. I shan’t be any trouble, I promise.’
Darius nodded. ‘Let’s get on then.’
Warmed by her breakfast and by Darius at least acknowledging her, Maryann went with Joel to fetch Bessie from the stable and watched with great attention as he harnessed her up.
They moved round to a new wharf to load up. Maryann stood watching with Bessie munching beside her as a crane lowered the cargo of iron pipes, load by load, down into the Esther Jane with much clanking and banging in the morning air. As she waited there it stopped raining and grew lighter though the rising sun was obscured by cloud and the smoke and smuts in the air. Joel went off to pay the toll and Darius went to fill up with water once more. Maryann offered to go, but he seemed not to hear her. She watched his slightly stooped back moving away from her.
At last they set off: Bessie straining hard against the harness to get the Esther Jane on the move, her hooves sliding and scraping, easing the boat forwards until it would begin to drift off and gather its own momentum. Joel led the horse, telling Maryann to stay on board with Darius.
She felt her eyes stretching wide to take everything in, thrilled at the boat beginning to start off slowly under her, and so caught up in the sight of the wharves and chimneys and canal cottages sliding past that she forgot to feel anxious standing beside Darius Bartholomew. She felt bubbly with excitement. They were really going, and she could leave it all behind her: home and school and Sal’s disappearance and most of all, Norman Griffin. He’d be livid that she’d given him the slip – there he was commanding her to go and work for him without even giving her a say, and she wouldn’t be there in two weeks after school ended, she’d make sure of that. Miss Bentley was a kind teacher and she’d persuade her somehow to give her her school leaving certificate. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. But for now, in this one precious week, she was going to learn to work the cut and see something of outside Birmingham for the first time in her life. Up until now she’d hardly set foot outside Ladywood!