‘Aye, this was a surprise, wasn’t it? We don’t expect snow as early as this. Anyway, I thought I’d better let you know that Mother and the bairns are over at the farm. She didn’t want to bring them back in this weather and we can’t get the cart through the drift at the bottom of our bank. So, she’s decided they’ll have to stay with us until the snow clears. Mind you, she’s upset because she wanted to be here for Christmas and she knows that you’d want the bairns here for Christmas as well. They might get back over tomorrow if it clears up a bit.’
‘At least we know they’re safe, that’s the main thing,’ said Tom, although he was disappointed. ‘Thanks for letting us know. We’d have been worried sick about them, not knowing if they’d set off for home or not.’
‘They’re exciting about staying over. When I left, the bairns were deciding which beds they wanted to sleep in,’ said Joe, smiling.
‘Did you come the road way?’
‘No, I came across the fields. It wasn’t bad that way because the snow’s blowing off the hills. It’s the valley bottom and the dyke backs where it’s building up. Anyway, I’d better be getting back.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ said Tom, out of tradition rather than sentiment.
‘Merry Christmas. And don’t worry about the bairns, they’ll be fine,’ said Joe looking at Mary, before he turned to leave.
When Joe was back on his horse and riding away, Mary went to Tom and put her arms around him. They’d been looking forward to Christmas with the children, but now it would just be them and baby Tommy.
The wind howled outside and, despite the fire burning in the grate, Mary shivered.
‘It’s going to be a bad storm,’ said Tom.
‘Aye, but we’re well stocked. We’ve got plenty of food for us, and for the animals, so we’ll be fine,’ said Mary, with more conviction than she felt. As far as Mary was concerned, snow had its good points and bad. She loved to see children playing in it and she had fond memories of playing with Annie in the snow. They had loved to walk in soft snow especially, because it stuck to the bottom of their clogs and it felt like they were walking on stilts. The Weardale landscape looked even better than usual when it was covered with a fresh coat of glistening snow — it was breathtaking. But on the other hand, snow could be deadly. Just last year, a woman from Wearhead had gone missing in a snowstorm on her way home from her sister’s house in the village. Her body had been found three days later only a hundred yards from her door.
‘Yes, we’ll be fine,’ agreed Tom. ‘There’s plenty of logs and peat in the shed to last all winter. We’ll be warm enough.’ Tom had concerns too. He had twenty-two ewes up on the fell. If the snow falls were heavy and he couldn’t get hay up to them, they could starve up there with no grass to eat. He couldn’t afford to lose any sheep. The ewes were all in lamb as well. Yes, they were well stocked with food and fuel for the winter, but money was still tight, and he wanted their farming venture to work. If he could bring the sheep down to lower ground, he would be able to feed them through the bad weather and keep them safe.
‘You know, I think I should go and bring those sheep down off the fell. If I put them in the back pasture, I’ll be able to throw hay over the wall to feed them. If they stay up there and it gets really bad, we could lose them.’
‘Well, if you’re going to go, go now before the snow starts again. It’ll take you a good couple of hours to round them up and fetch them down.’
Tom put on lots of layers of warm clothing and finished with the hat and scarf Mary had given him for Christmas last year. Mary went to him and put her arms around him. ‘Please be careful, Tom.’
‘I won’t be long,’ said Tom with a smile. He kissed her first on her brow and then on her lips. As he opened the door to leave, a gust of wind blew in and chilled the room. Mary heard him shout for Floss and the black and white collie ran out from the barn. Mary watched Tom set off up the hillside, trudging through the snow with Floss by his side.
She turned and wondered what she should do until he got back. They would need food for over Christmas, so she decided she would do some baking. She liked baking. It would keep her busy and take her mind off the weather. She glanced out of the window and saw a few fine flakes of snow falling to the ground. She took her mixing bowl, scales and weights out of the cupboard and set them on the table. Mince pies first she decided. Christmas and snow always made her think of mince pies and she was sure Tom would like some when he got back.
Two hours later the snow was falling fast; fine, powdery snow that was lifted up again by the constant wind as soon as it had fallen. The windows were coated with it and Mary could no longer see out; the kitchen was dark. She lit the lamps and then went to the door and opened it. Snow was swirling around the yard. It stung her face as it hit her, and the frosty air caught her breath. It was bitterly cold. She closed the door and went straight to the fire to put on more peat. She had only been outside for a minute or two and her hands were cold. Tom would be frozen when he got back. She thought she should go out and milk the cows for him so that, when he returned, he could stay in and get warmed through. She checked on Tommy, who was sleeping peacefully, wrapped herself up well and went out to the barn.
It was dark outside by the time she had finished milking and Tom had still not returned. Mary was worried; he should have been home. Yes, it would take longer than usual to bring the sheep down because he would have to walk through the snow, and that was hard work when the snow was deep but, even so, he should have been back by now. At least another foot of snow had fallen since she’d gone out. It was about three feet deep and she could see where the snow had blown up against the barn wall to about her height. She wasn’t one for praying very often, but she was certainly going to pray for her husband’s safe return tonight. It was as bad a night as she could ever remember.
The snow had piled up against the door again and it fell into the room as she went back inside. She was grateful to be back in the warmth. She fed Tommy and put him to bed, and then returned to the kitchen and continued to bake.
After another hour or so, she looked at the mass of pies and scones that filled the table. Tom hadn’t come home. He had been outside in this blizzard for five hours. God only knew what state he would be in when he got back. She went to the door and, when she opened it, more snow fell into the kitchen. Outside, the snow was falling so thickly that she could no longer see the barn across the yard. Everything was white. How would Tom find his way back? Maybe Floss would lead him home; she had heard of dogs doing some wonderful things.
In a state of despair, she called out Tom’s name and listened. It truly was a silent night. She could hear nothing; the snow deadened any sounds. When she went back inside, she couldn’t decide whether to bank up the fire for the night and go to bed, or to find a book to read and sit by the fire until Tom returned. There was no way that she would sleep until he got back, so she decided to sit by the fire and read, and that way she could tend the fire and keep the house warm for when he came in.
Mary woke with a start. The chiming clock must have woken her. She saw it was seven o’clock in the morning and remembered that it was Christmas Day. She must have fallen asleep sometime during the night. Her book was on the floor by her chair. The fire was out and the house was cold. Tom. Where was Tom? She looked around the house to see if he had come home. He wasn’t there. With a feeling of despair, she realised that he must have spent the night outside in the storm.
Even though she was worried, she had to pull herself together because there were things she had to do. She fed Tommy and changed his clothes before going out. She went to the door and opened it. The snow had blown against the door, almost to its full height, and she could hardly see any daylight. She got the fire shovel and started to dig and, as she worked, she couldn’t stop thinking about the lady from Wearhead and how close to home she had perished. What if Tom had almost reached the house and was lying under the snow in the yard?
Mary was exhausted. She had cl
eared a path from the house to the barn so that she could see to the animals there. The snow was about four feet deep in the yard, but it had drifted up against the buildings. There were still a few flurries of snow coming down and the sky promised to yield more. When she had reached the barn, all was peaceful. The animals were well — Bobby, the cows, the geese and the chickens. Tabby met her at the door with a huge, dead rat in his mouth, which he dropped at her feet. ‘Thank you, Tabby. Good boy! You earn your keep, don’t you?’ She threw the dead rat onto the snow-covered midden and fed the cat first. Then she fed all of the other animals, broke the ice on the water troughs, milked the cows and went back indoors to warm up and check on her baby.
On her way back inside, Mary looked up at the hillside. Snow stowered across the fields and swirled to form drifts. The path she had dug was already filling with freshly fallen snow and the wind howled menacingly.
Before clearing a path to the barn, she had thought she should try to get help and the obvious place to go would have been Springbank Farm. If Joe knew that his brother had been out all night, he would get a search party together. But now she realised the idea was futile. It had taken her such a long time just to get to the barn, she would never make it through the snow and the drifts to Springbank. All she could do was wait and pray.
She hadn’t eaten breakfast and it was now dinner time. She should have been hungry. She tried to eat a mince pie, but her stomach was so unsettled that she only managed one bite. Thoughts of last Christmas came to mind. It had been such a wonderful day and she remembered it as if it was just yesterday. She could still see Tom’s face when she had told Tom him that she was pregnant. He’d been so excited about becoming a father. They’d swapped gifts, shared a lovely meal together and enjoyed each other’s company. The only Christmas present she wanted this year was for her husband to come home to her.
She built up the fire and then fed and changed Tommy. Thinking about Christmas had given her an idea. She needed something to do to fill the hours between feeding the animals and milking the cows, or she would go mad with worry. She decided to start making a clippy mat. Jane had an old chest where she stored old clothes and pieces of fabric for making things. Mary took them out and sorted them into different materials. She left all the woollen items on the table and returned the cotton and linen ones to the chest for making a quilt another time. She started to cut the clothes up into small, rectangular strips of equal size. When she had finished, there were piles of different coloured fabrics on the table ready to be used.
She brought out the wooden frame that Tom had made and fastened a piece of hessian onto it, stretching it tightly. She started to push the navy pieces through it, around the edges. It was a slow and monotonous process but one that kept her mind off Tom, but all of the time she had been listening intently for the sound of the door latch.
By nightfall, Tom had still not returned. Mary fed Tommy and settled him for the night, banked down the fire and went to bed alone. Sleep didn’t come and the longer she stayed in bed trying to sleep, the more elusive sleep became. The wind was howling outside, and snow was still falling. There was a small pile of it on the bedroom windowsill where it had found a way through between the panes of glass.
Mary was cold and anxious. Now that her mind wasn’t occupied, she worried more and more about Tom. Could he have sheltered somewhere? There were no farms or cottages above them on the hillside. Could he have made his way back down and be stuck at Springbank Farm? That was possible. She strongly hoped that he was safe and warm and that in the future they would laugh about how worried she had been. But what if he was outside in the freezing wind and snow? This would be his second night outdoors — without food, water or warmth. Oh Tom! Please be safe.
She wished she had tried to get help today. Perhaps she should have saddled Bobby and ridden him through the fields to Springbank Farm. Joe had said that it wasn’t too bad that way — but that had been yesterday, before most of the snow had fallen. Would it have been passable today? She didn’t think so. Anyway, she couldn’t have left Tommy at the farm by himself, in case she couldn’t get back to him, and she wouldn’t have risked her baby’s life by taking him out in this weather.
Wondering what else she could have done, Mary remembered something her mother had said years ago. ‘If you’re ever in need of help, hang a sheet out the window. It’ll attract attention. Someone will see it and come to help.’ She vowed to do that at first light, and to pray that there was someone out there to see it.
In her mind, she replayed the conversation she and Tom had had after his accident, when he had wanted to go back to the mine. They had discussed whether mining or farming was the better option and she had said that farming was safer. If he died out there trying to save their sheep, she would regret saying that for the rest of her life. If he died, what would they do without him? How would she manage without him?
Her childhood dream of finding a handsome man and of falling in love seemed fanciful now, her girlish crush on Joe meaningless. What she and Tom had together was real. She couldn’t ask for any more in a man and she realised that she didn’t want anyone else ever — just her Tom.
Mary prayed that he was still alive and would come home to her. She needed to tell him how she felt. She needed to tell him that she loved him — and she hoped that she hadn’t left it too late.
She hugged herself, for warmth and comfort, wishing that the arms wrapped around her were Tom’s. As she wondered if she would ever feel his embrace again, she began to cry.
When sleep finally came, it was restless. Mary dreamed of being frozen and unable to move. All she could see was white everywhere, then her back began to feel warm and she thawed out. She woke up to find Tabby lying stretched out along her back. The little warmth he provided was welcome.
Frost formed a beautiful, intricate pattern on the inside of the bedroom window. Mary couldn’t see out, but she could tell it was still dark. She undid the catch and opened the sash window. She took the sheet off the bed and tied a knot in one corner. Pushing most of it out through the opening, she secured the last part by closing the window onto it. From outside, the sheet would look like a flag billowing in the wind. Hopefully it would draw attention to her plight.
Mary went downstairs and lit the fire, tending it until it was burning well. All she could hear was the crackling sound of wood burning in the grate. When the day dawned, the sky was clear and blue. Mary saw to Tommy and then went out to the barn, grateful that there wasn’t snow blasting into her face today. She tended to the animals and was pleased that they were all well. When she returned to the house, the fire was low so she added some wood and stoked it; she watched the flames until the fire came back to life. She felt hungry for the first time in days, so she put some oats and milk into a pan to make porridge.
While breakfast was cooking, she went to the door and was surprised at how still and quiet it was outside — so peaceful. The white snow glistened in the sunlight and it was so bright that Mary had to squint to look out. Something caught her eye in the distance; she tried to see what it was. Something was moving on the fell. She watched for several minutes before she was sure there was somebody walking along the fell, heading towards the gate. When he came through into the top pasture, she could see it was a man and there was a black and white dog following him. It had to be Tom.
Mary said aloud, ‘Thank God!’ But how could he be walking down the hill after two nights out in the storm? Was she seeing things? Was it his ghost? The man got closer and he waved at her. It was definitely Tom... and he was alive!
Mary walked as quickly as she could through the snow to meet him in the pasture. When she reached him, she said ‘Tom, oh Tom!’
Tom picked her up and swung her around and they laughed. He placed her back on the ground and held her tightly, ‘I’ve missed you, lass.’
‘Thank God, you’re safe. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you. Come on, let’s get you back to the house.’
They wa
lked to the farm, hand in hand. Floss ran into the barn and went straight to her empty food dish. Mary gave her something to eat and she wolfed it down. Then she curled up on the straw. ‘Good girl, Floss,’ Tom said, stroking her head.
The kitchen was warm and the porridge on the stove was ready. Tom took off his coat and sat at the table to eat some. He finished quickly and said, ‘I’ve been so hungry.’
Mary refilled his bowl. When Tom had finished eating and he was sitting comfortably by the fire, Mary sat on his knee and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. ‘I was so worried you wouldn’t come back. You were out for two nights in that awful storm. I can’t believe that you survived it. What happened up there?’
‘Well, by the time I’d got up onto the fell, the snow was coming down quite heavy. I couldn’t see more than a yard or two in front of me and I was walking through snow up to me knees — that was tough going for me, but Floss was finding it hard running through that depth of snow as well. We found a couple of sheep, but I knew we wouldn’t find the rest in time to bring them down before dark. I couldn’t see very well, me bad leg was aching, and the snow was biting into me face. To be honest, if I’d known it was going to get that bad so quickly, I wouldn’t have set off.’
‘I wish you hadn’t,’ Mary said, putting her hand on his cheek. She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.
‘Anyway, you asked how come I’m alright. That’s down to me Granda Milburn. When me and Joe were little, he told us what to do if the snow closed in and we couldn’t see where we were going. He said find a deep drift at the back of a dyke and dig a hole into the snow — you know, like a little cave — and huddle up in there until the weather clears. Stay out of the wind and stay dry. So that’s what I did. Floss came in and stayed with me the whole time. It was surprising how warm it was out of the wind. I remember him telling us that the worst thing you can do is carry on until you’re exhausted or blinded by the snow. You don’t stand a chance then.’
The Lead Miner's Daughter Page 24