The Narrowboat Girl

by Annie Murray

  ‘It’s horrible,’ she said, dismayed. ‘How on earth’re we s’posed to get used to this?’

  Joel didn’t look too happy either. ‘Darius says you do get used to it after a bit. Thing is, Maryann – it’s this or selling her altogether. At least we’ve got our home, eh?’

  ‘I s’pose so,’ she conceded, handing him a cup of tea. She smiled shyly, kissing him. ‘Our home. That sounds nice, don’t it?’

  Darius swung in through the door. ‘We’ll untie and be off now—’

  The boat seemed to make a lot of noise starting off, but when they were moving, she settled down to a more regular sound. They eased away from the other moored boats. Joel stood at the stern, watching in amazement in the pale dawn light.

  They were just straightening up to move off when they all heard a cry from on the bank, a voice shouting with all its strength, ‘Maryann! Darius!’

  ‘My God—’ Maryann peered through the door out into the dim light. ‘That sounds like Nancy!’

  ‘Wait! Don’t go – wait, wait!’

  Darius instantly steered the Esther Jane towards the bank where Nancy was frantically shouting and running to keep up with them. He brought her in rather awkwardly and they bumped the side, almost causing Maryann to fall over.

  Nance was panting so hard she could scarcely speak. Darius held out his hand and she jumped in.

  ‘Nance – what the hell’re yer playing at?’ Maryann was quite annoyed. She’d said her goodbyes – that was that. Why spin it out even longer? She saw, though, that Nance had a fresh shiner on her left eye, which was only half open.

  In any case, it was not Maryann Nance wanted to speak to. All her attention was fixed on Darius. ‘I ’aven’t slept a wink!’ she panted. ‘It’s no good – I’m coming with yer! ’E gave me this as a present last night—’ She pointed at her eye. ‘I ain’t never going back, Darius – it’s you I want to be with – for ever!’

  Darius’s face took on a look of wonder and disbelief. ‘But . . .’ he stuttered. ‘Nance – you, I mean . . .’

  ‘Nance – what’re you saying?’ Maryann asked her. ‘What about Mick – I mean, you said you’d never . . .?’

  ‘I know what I said. I married ’im, I took vows in church and I can’t divorce ’im and I’m most likely damned into the bargain. But it’s you I love, Darius. I’ve never felt the way I feel when I’m with you – ever before. I’ve only got one life and I can’t spend it with ’im when I can hardly stand the sight of ’im and ’e knocks me about and there’ll be no babbies neither. It ain’t a marriage, it’s a prison sentence. If you’d not come along, Darius, I might never’ve known I could fall in love. I know we can’t make it legal and regular but out ’ere it don’t seem to matter. It’s you I want to spend my life with – if you’ll ’ave me.’

  ‘If I’ll have you?’ Darius said. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He handed the tiller to Joel and pulled Nance into his arms. ‘How can you even ask, girl?’ He was laughing with sheer joy.

  ‘Flamin ’ell, Nance!’ Maryann was only just beginning to take in what had happened. ‘Joel – this family’s getting bigger every minute.’

  Nance, laughing and crying at once, hugged each of them in turn. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this! I’m going to wake up any moment!’

  ‘Well,’ Darius took command of the Esther Jane once more, ‘let’s get going before you do.’

  With the water churning behind them, they weaved their way through the shadowy Birmingham Cut and out towards the fresher country air.

  Forty-Seven

  December 1934

  The day of their wedding, Maryann woke in the little house where she and Joel were staying with old Darius’s sister in Oxford. Joel’s father was still in poor health and was staying on the bank for the forseeable future.

  Maryann had been given a bed upstairs and Joel was sleeping on an old sofa down in the tiny back room. She could see that the sun was shining brightly behind the curtains and she climbed out of bed, shivering as she pulled her woolly on and then going to draw back the curtain. The sight that met her eyes made her laugh with pleasure. It was a diamond-hard, cold day, creaking with ice and from the roof hung huge icicles glinting in the bright sunlight. The rooftops were white and the tree she could see a little way along the street looked as if it had been dipped in icing sugar. She couldn’t have asked for better than this sparkling white perfection.

  Old Mrs Simons, Joel’s aunt, had married away from the cut and spent her wedded life in Oxford, where her late husband had a grocer’s shop. She was a diminutive lady with scrubbed pink cheeks, little spectacles and she wore black, old-fashioned bombazine dresses with white lace collars. She was delighted that Joel and Maryann had decided to be married at St Barnabas Church, just a couple of streets away, and where she attended regularly.

  ‘Now, moy dear,’ she said to Maryann later in the morning when they were ensconced together upstairs away from the men and she was helping Maryann dress. ‘Just you stand still so’s I don’t nick you with this.’ She bent over with a needle and thread in one hand, finishing a seam in the woollen dress Maryann had chosen. It was second-hand but in good condition and a lovely violet-blue colour. ‘Looks very nice with your pretty hair.’ Maryann’s hair was fastened back in a shiny, raven twist behind her head, and with her rosy cheeks and bright, happy eyes she looked very beautiful.

  Mrs Simons stood back and clasped her hands in front of her breast, her china thimble still on one finger, beaming with excitement. ‘We haven’t had a wedding in this family for such a time – what with all poor Esther’s boys . . . the War, you know. I began to think Joel and Darius’d never settle. . . .’ She drifted off sadly, then regained her state of glee. ‘But it always makes me feel young again, a wedding! Now just you remember, moy dear – they’re good men in this family, good sound men. But sometimes you do have to take a firm hand with them.’

  ‘Do you?’ Maryann asked, surprised.

  ‘Oh yes.’ Mrs Simons neatly packed away her needles and thread. ‘Give ’em half the chance and they treat you like a man – like a packhorse, moy dear, to tell the truth – have you toiling day and night. Just remember to get Joel to treat you proper, however much strovin’ there is to be done. You ’ave to pull your weight of course, on the cut, but don’t let ’im forget you’re a woman for a moment, that’s my advice – specially when you’re carrying a child. Nothing worse for child-bearing than toiling like an animal day in day out. Saw my mother’s life come to an end through it, so I should know.’

  ‘I’ll try.’ Maryann smiled.

  She had a smart, royal blue hat with a white feather in it to top off her outfit, and blue shoes with an elegant heel.

  ‘I suppose this is the last time I’ll feel this smart in many a year.’ She laughed.

  ‘Well, you’re realistic, I’ll give you that,’ Mrs Simons said. She squeezed Maryann’s hand and stood on tiptoe to kiss her. ‘Joel’s a good boy – always has been. I hope you’ll be very happy, moy dear, and have a big, healthy family.

  It was unconventional, she knew, but as she had no one there in the way of family, Maryann asked old Mr Bartholomew to walk up the aisle with her and present her to his son. She did feel rather wistful that morning. Even Tony wasn’t going to travel all the way down from Birmingham, although he had written her a letter. She knew there was no question of her mother coming. But Nancy and Darius were there, Nancy acting as her ‘assistant’.

  ‘I don’t know whether I’m a bridesmaid or a matron of honour!’ Nance joked.

  She and Darius were working another of Samuel Barlow’s boats and had managed to reach Oxford that morning by the skin of their teeth in time for the wedding.

  And old Darius Bartholomew seemed delighted that Maryann was marrying Joel. ‘I’d ’ardly’ve known you,’ he said, looking her up and down when he first saw her. ‘You was only a child when last I saw you.’

  She would have known him anywhere. He was certainly shrunk
en and more stooped in stature compared with how she had first seen him, but his beard and bushy white eyebrows and his tanned, leathery features were unmistakable. He was rather splendidly dressed in an ancient suit which shone with wear, a red cravat in the neck of his shirt. She remembered how intimidating she had found him in the past. Now she felt only respect and fondness. It felt absolutely right when he took her arm and led her along the aisle while the organ was playing the wedding march, and she saw Joel dressed up – for the first time ever probably – in a black suit, his beard trimmed, waiting for her before the altar. Mr Bartholomew gallantly handed her to his waiting son with an expression of great solemnity. Maryann was surprised to find that her legs were trembling so much she could barely stand.

  When they came out, their few well-wishers sprinkled them with rice and Joel kissed her in the doorway of the church as the others watched and cheered. A man took their photograph.

  Nance kissed her enthusiastically, almost knocking both their hats off in the process. Nance’s was perched precariously on her curls.

  ‘I’m ever so ’appy for yer, Maryann! You look really lovely.’

  ‘Ta, Nance – you do an’ all.’ Maryann linked arms with Joel on one side and Nancy on the other as they all walked along to the pub where they went afterwards to celebrate. It was lovely outside but so cold that they were anxious to get into the warmth and they walked briskly, watched by a few curious passers-by in the little Oxford back street with its rows of neat terraces.

  Nance looked a picture of health. In the three months since she’d been with Darius she seemed to have filled out and her eyes were alive with happiness.

  ‘I’ve got muscles on me like bed-knobs!’ She laughed. ‘Eh Darius – bring the bride a drink, will yer!’

  They were a small wedding party, but they settled down very happily together. Old Mrs Simons became quite merry drinking glasses of ginger wine. Maryann sat between Nancy and Joel.

  ‘Well – there’s not many of us, but we wish you well,’ Mrs Simons said, raising her glass. ‘You’re a lovely girl and I know you’ll make our Joel very happy.’

  They all drank to Joel and Maryann’s health. Nance nudged Maryann.

  ‘My wedding to Mick was quite a big do and look where that got me,’ she said quietly. ‘You be happy, my girl.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Maryann said. She thought to herself that if she’d had the finest wedding in the land she couldn’t be happier. She laid her hand over Joel’s under the table and he smiled and leaned close to kiss her.

  Maryann and Nance had a good old chinwag about adjusting to life on the cut, catching up on the past couple of months. After a month apart, when Darius had gone off to earn some money with Fellows, Morton and Clayton and Nance had stayed on the Esther Jane, the two of them had got their own Barlow boat and Joel had said he felt strong enough to cope – especially now the boat had an engine.

  ‘I tell yer, Maryann,’ Nance said. ‘Some nights I’m so tired I’m near falling asleep standing up and I’m dreaming the engine’s still going at night even when it ain’t.’ Maryann nodded her agreement. ‘I never knew what work was till I went off with Darius. ’E’s ’ad a right go at me a few times when I get things wrong. Still, I learned a lot off Joel when I was still with you so it could be worse. And I tell yer summat, I wouldn’t swap it for the world – when yer get up in the morning and look out on the fields all white with frost and the sun coming up – never seen anything like that in my life before.’

  ‘You don’t miss the old life then?’ Maryann asked.

  ‘Sometimes, when I’m trying to do a wash and get it hung out and moving about in that cabin I curse it and wish I ’ad a house to live in. But then when I think back – when I did ’ave, I’ve never felt so miserable in all my life.’ She looked sober for a moment. ‘No. I couldn’t go back. I mean I’ll ’ave to go back some time soon – I’ve writ me mom, trying to explain. I know I’ve done Mick wrong and sometimes it weighs heavy on me. But we love each other, me and Darius. I ’ope Mick finds some way of getting on without me – but I wanted a life, Maryann . . .’

  Her brown eyes earnestly sought Maryann’s, needing reassurance. Maryann patted her hand. ‘’Course you did.’

  ‘You been back to Brum?’

  ‘I was there only last week. Went to see if Tony and Billy could come down for the wedding but Tony daint seem to think ’e could. And I went to see Amy and her mom.’

  ‘Oh – how are they? What’s ’appened to him?’

  ‘He,’ Maryann said, ‘is still in hospital. Janet said his face and the top of him’s burnt so bad you can scarcely recognize him. She was sort of shuddering as she told me. Said ’e’s a terrible sight – it all got infected and it’s taking time to heal.’

  ‘Serves the bastard right.’

  ‘She said she daint think he’ll find any more young widows with families to charm his way into. Said they’d run away at the sight of him.’

  ‘What about those poor girls of ’ers?’

  ‘She and Amy are just living quietly together. She’s taking in some sewing – it’s very hard for ’er to get by but they’re managing. She says she don’t care what she has to do just so long as she can keep Amy safe. Amy seems awright – much more cheerful, though heaven knows – the scars run deep, Nance . . .’

  ‘Poor child. What about Margaret though?’

  ‘Well—’ Maryann’s face clouded. ‘They’ve still got ’er in the asylum. She ain’t right. God alone knows what he did to her. Her mom’s worried to death and she visits, but she’s that busy trying to make ends meet. She says they can still barely get the kid to say a word.’

  Nance made a hissing sound through her teeth and was interrupted before she could say anything by Joel leaning over.

  ‘My dad wants to say summat.’

  They all looked at old Darius Bartholomew. Slowly he got to his feet and his stooped figure loomed above them.

  ‘It’s a very happy day for us all today,’ he began ponderously, then stopped and cleared his throat. ‘Turns out I’ve known the lass what’s marrying our Joel since she were a nipper, and a fine young woman she’s turned out to be.’ He paused and Maryann smiled, blushing with surprise. ‘It’s a pity today couldn’t be the wedding of both my living sons. My Esther Jane, God rest ’er, would’ve taken both daughters-in-law to ’er heart, even if they was off the bank.’ It was Nancy’s turn to go red. Darius said no more about her situation. It was a difficult one, but they could all see how she and Darius were together and Nancy, who was sturdy and a good worker on the boat, had been accepted.

  ‘I don’t have no finery to give you both on your wedding day, ’cept my blessing. But there is things I’d like to give to you. My working days on the cut’re over now and it’s no use in thinking they ain’t. So . . .’ He indicated to his sister to pass up a cloth bag from beside the chair and dipped his hand into it. ‘This ’un’s for you, Joel.’ It was his second windlass, the one he’d had to use all the time after Maryann so shamefully lost the first.

  Joel soberly nodded his thanks. Both of them knew what it meant: old Darius was handing over the Esther Jane after a lifetime’s work.

  ‘And there’s summat for you too, missy.’ From the bag he drew something black and crumpled, and as he opened it out with his twisted hands, Maryann gasped, seeing the honour that was being conferred on her. It was Esther Jane’s black bonnet.

  ‘Oh—’ She hesitated then, seeing Joel smiling, took it gingerly from the old man’s outstretched hand. ‘I – I don’t think I deserve this . . .’

  ‘Well—’ Darius sank into his seat and picked up his glass. ‘Time’ll tell. But you’re a boatwoman now. A Bartholomew. My Esther was my best mate on the cut through good days and bad. Now it’s your turn and Joel’s. You look after each other, eh – and you two an’ all—’ He nodded at Darius and Nance who had tears in her eyes.

  They all raised their glasses and Joel turned to Maryann, his face full of love.
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br />   ‘Best mates.’

  She clinked her glass against his and kissed him. ‘Best mates.’

  Joel and Maryann had said their farewells for the moment to the family. Darius and Nance were going straight back to pick up a load and get ahead. Darius said they’d be likely to work the Grand Union next.

  ‘Might not see yer for a bit,’ Nance said as she and Maryann hugged each other goodbye. ‘We’ll get back on the Oxford soon as we can.’

  ‘Try and get to Napton for Christmas!’ Joel said.

  That evening they moved the Esther Jane out away from the town and tied up in a beautiful, isolated spot where fields stretched out all around them and the only thing filling the middle distance were the sharp outlines of winter trees against a white half-moon. They left old Jep snoozing in the cabin and stepped out on to the bank in the moonlight. The cold was so intense it seemed to come down on them like a weight, but the sky was full of stars and they wanted to enjoy the sight of it. Joel put his arm round Maryann and they stood close together in silence for a few moments, looking across the silver fields, hearing the gentle slap of the water against the bank. A bird screeched somewhere in the distance, a high, lonely sound. Maryann shivered and snuggled closer to Joel.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said. ‘Feels as if there’s no one around for miles.’

  ‘Probably ain’t.’

  She looked up at him, the pale sheen of moonlight on his face. He was filling out gradually and beginning to look like his strong, burly self. She could hear, though, the loud wheezing of his lungs, an utterly comforting sound because it had always been one which accompanied him, but also a worrying sign of his vulnerability. She knew how close to death he had been, the risk that any illnesses meant to him in the damp atmosphere of the cut. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his face, overflowing with love and gratitude. She would treasure every day with him.