To Catch a Dream

by Mary Wood

  ‘And what about the expense? It won’t be cheap to move over here from Sheffield.’

  ‘I’m not worried over money and won’t have a problem with funding the move, nor me wedding, as will take place as soon as we get here. Cos with me not being a drinking nor gambling man, I have a bit put by.’

  ‘Umm, it sounds as though you have thought it all through, but there is one problem. The men I take on won’t have a cottage allocated immediately. I have some lodgings sorted out with some of my present workers whose families have grown up and left home. It could be up to six months before the building of the cottages is complete and they’re ready for occupation. So I think you will have problems regarding the accommodation of your family.’

  ‘Does you think as I’d find something to rent in the town, sir?’

  ‘You could try. You may get rooms above one of the shops, perhaps. Look, let’s put it like this: I’ll employ you from next Monday, and that gives you two days to sort out where you’re going to live. If you don’t find somewhere by the end of that time, then you must let me know immediately, so I can continue to find someone for the position I’m going to offer you. I’ve also decided to take you at face value, William Hadler. That is, I won’t be asking for references. This is a very unusual step for me to take, but I don’t want to complicate your position. This means I have to take you on trust, so please don’t let me down.’

  ‘I’ll not, sir, I promise you.’

  ‘Right. Now then, the terms and conditions: the pay rate is one and tuppence per ton of unriddled Wheatley Lime Coal, rising on a scale to two shillings per ton for New Hards or Silkstone Coal. You will receive a full list of all the rates, and you can expect to get a fair share of doing the cutting. The pay for this is a shilling per yard. On top of this, we add thirty-seven and a half per cent, though this is subject to any deductions, such as tools, candles, oils and rent, et cetera. You will start on the day shift, descending at 5.30 a.m. and ascending at 2 p.m. On Saturdays it will be 1 p.m. On the afternoon shift you will descend at two and ascend at ten, and on the night shift descend at nine forty-five and ascend at five forty-five in the morning. This shift begins on Sunday nights, when you will descend an hour later than normal. The shifts rotate on a three-weekly basis. We will shortly be introducing a crossover shift of 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., but that won’t be in force until the new seam is well under way and we are up to full strength. Do you have any questions?’

  ‘No, sir – them’s fair prices and I’ll be giving a fair day’s work for them. Thank you, sir.’

  ‘That’ll be all then, Mr Hadler. I will expect you to let me know as soon as possible if you will be starting on Monday or not.’

  With this, Will got up and left. Donning his cap, he almost skipped across the yard. By, I’ve never known the like. Never before has anyone treated me to such courtesy, and the rates are good an’ all. It’s as if I’ve met a man of a like mind to me: an honest man. If I could just sort everything, we’ll land on our feet all right. But where to start?

  He decided to walk down the high street to look in the shop windows and make a few enquiries with the owners about accommodation. There must be something! And he’d not worry about getting back, as he no longer needed his job. He just had to hope him not turning up would give Bridie hope instead of worry, and she’d know he must have struck it lucky.

  ‘Well, lass, how’re you feeling? Did you have a good night?’

  ‘Aye, I did that, Mrs Hadler. And it’ll be down to you that I did, so it will. You’ve taken such good care of me that I’m for thinking the Holy Mother herself would not be after doing a better job.’

  ‘Me name’s Janet, and I’ll warn you right away that the blarney won’t wash with me, so you can cut the flowery talk. Here, I’ve brought you a sup of tea and a bowl of oats. Best get something down you. It’ll build up your strength.’

  ‘Ta, it’ll be welcome. It’s fair starving I am. And you can take me words as truth. I’m not for giving you the flannel.’

  ‘No, well, I’d say your good night was more down to that empty bottle of gin than anything I did for you. We’re not a drinking family, thou knows, so I hope as it were for medicinal purposes.’

  Oh, God, why did I not hide the bottle? Didn’t I know as Will’s ma isn’t approving of the drink?

  ‘Reet, I’ve me copper on boiling out in the back scullery, so I can’t stop. I’m trying to keep up with me washing and everything. With Will not coming back, it looks like he has a move all lined up for us, as he wouldn’t miss his shift if he hadn’t. And all I can say on that score is, I hope you’re worth it.’

  Watching Janet disappear down the ladder that led to the kitchen below, Bridie wished she could start all over and have things like they used to be: for her to be as she was, back when she didn’t have to use her tongue or her bodily attractions to try to wile her way into folks’ affection. She’d done it for so long now that she’d lost her real self and seemed no longer able to recognize honesty of the kind Will’s mammy liked to live by. And now she’d put the woman’s back up, which wasn’t for making a good start. She’d have to try harder.

  The effort it took for her to get out of bed surprised her. Her body cried out in protest at every movement. She’d taken a few beatings in her time from men, but not like Bruiser had given her this time. The hurt extended to her heart, as she had done Bruiser’s bidding since the first day she’d met him, except what it was he’d wanted to do to her yesterday. He’d asked her before, but had respected her refusal. But hadn’t he been about to take her that way despite her protests? She shuddered at the thought.

  ‘Oh, you’ve managed to dress and get down, then. Did that strapping I put around your ribs help?’

  ‘It did, Janet, ta.’

  ‘By, you look like you’ve been through mill, lass. You should’ve stayed in a while.’

  ‘I was after thinking you might need some help.’

  ‘Eeh, look at you, you’re shaking. Go into the front room; there’s a fire lit and you can sit down and get warm. I’m nearly done, anyroad. I’ll be in with you in a minute . . . Look, happen as I were a bit sharp with you. I’m not approving of the life you’ve led, but Will explained circumstances as put you that way, and I’m sorry for you, lass. I’ll do me best to accept the situation, but it ain’t easy for me.’

  ‘I know, and I’m not deserving of your son or his love for me, but with the chance he is giving me, I can change. I don’t know how it was I came to be so low. It just seemed the only way, but then I had me spirit knocked out of me before I had a chance.’

  ‘Don’t cry, love, it doesn’t help owt. What’s happened has happened; it’s what’s in the future that matters. No one will know us where we’re going, so we can make a fresh start. And don’t think as I’m not ready for a change, because I am. Folk round here have sickened me for a good while. Let’s hope we meet some decent neighbours over at this Breckton place.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad about that, as I was for thinking I was uprooting you against your will. Is it sure you are I can’t be for lending a hand?’

  ‘It is. I have me routine. You just go and rest yourself. And don’t worry on folk coming in, as I’ve locked me door. They know when the latch is on I’m not wanting visitors, so they’ll just take it as that.’

  Bridie welcomed the warmth of the fire, although it didn’t stop her shakes. But she knew those weren’t all down to her injuries and the cold, but the lack of a sup of gin to steady her. Inside she felt easier, though. That little talk with Janet had gone well, so it had. If she trod carefully, maybe they would get along together. And somehow she was to try to do without the drink. But that was a step she didn’t know if she could take or not, for she had a powerful longing on her, so she did . . .

  Getting the job had been the easy part for Will. Finding somewhere for them all to live, though, was proving to be nigh on impossible. He looked again around the three rooms above the hardware shop on Main Street, but no, he couldn’t
. Bridie’d be all right, he knew that – she’d put up with worse than this – and he’d be for making do, but his ma? No, he couldn’t bring her to such a place. The move would be hard enough for her as it was. But then, what was he going to do? He’d trudged the streets for what was left of yesterday afternoon, and he hadn’t stopped since he’d risen early this morning. Now here it was on midday and all he’d found had been an old croft house with no windows, which the black-smith had offered, telling him he could have it rent-free for six months if he did the place up. Its damp, smelly rooms provoked a despair in him. He needed to be telling Mr Harvey one way or the other later today, and get on his way home.

  The move was all planned in his head. He’d decided he’d hire a hauler from across the other side of Sheffield; someone who didn’t know anyone who lived around their area. He’d planned on getting him to come around midnight on Saturday night. If he paid the right money they’d not question him; they were well used to midnight flitters. He’d have to have one who could take all three of them on board as well, because they’d not get away with coming here on the train. Someone would see them. If things went well, they would have settled in by Sunday night and he’d be ready to start on the Monday-morning shift. But first he needed a place to live!

  ‘Are you taking them then, Mister? Only me da wants to close shop for dinner.’

  ‘No ta, but does you know of owt else going? It wouldn’t matter if it were five miles or so out of town even, but it needs to be half-decent and big enough to accommodate three of us.’

  ‘Ain’t these good enough for you then, Mister? I thought as you were a pit worker and’d be glad of them.’

  It came to him to say, No, they bloody well ain’t, and clip the lad round his clouts, but he didn’t. Instead he said, ‘It’s just as they’re not big enough, lad.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know of owt else, but you could try at the Farmers’ Market on the morrow. Though like as not they’ll want one of you to help on the land. They set up in the square down yonder, from about nine every Saturday.’

  Thanking the lad, Will left.

  Outside he took his cap off for a moment and smoothed his hair back. His mind wouldn’t give him a solution. The only part of him knowing what it needed to do was his belly. He tapped it, saying, ‘Stop your griping. I’m going to see about getting some grub into you right this minute. Aye, and a full belly might help me to decide what to do.’ Across the road from him he saw a pub. As he placed his order for a cheese-and-onion butty and half-jug of beer, it came to his mind how all this had started. By, what can happen in a few months! Life had changed beyond recognition for him since he’d met Bridie. Eeh, Bridie. Bridie, me own little lass. I can’t wait to make you me wife. He pulled himself up. If he let his mind travel the road as to what that meant for him, he’d not be able to concentrate on the matters he had in hand. He just hoped she was all right with his ma – or, rather, his ma was all right with her . . .

  The bartender bringing over his butty broke his chain of thought, and he was glad of it. Dwelling on what might be happening at home would not get him anywhere.

  ‘You’re not from these parts, are you, lad? Have you come looking for work?’

  ‘Aye, I have, and that bit’s been easy. I can get set on at the pit, but finding a place for me family until pit cottages are ready is proving to better me. There’s nowt around.’

  ‘No, and cottages ain’t much, either, but I think new ones as they are building are going to be two-up, two-down, or so I’ve heard tell. Mind, it could be as you end up in old ’uns, cos a few pit workers have put in for a move to the new row. And I’m thinking as Mr Harvey might listen to them, so I wouldn’t be getting your hopes up.’

  For all his big, jolly appearance, the bartender had a sulky kind of disposition and seemed to enjoy dampening folks’ spirits rather than lifting them. Will had heard him prophesying doom and gloom for the weather and harvest with a middle-aged man who stood in the corner of the bar.

  This same fellow turned now and put in his penny’s worth, though he was a sight more optimistic. ‘Give over, Dick, thou’s giving the fellow a reet gloomy picture, and him up looking to better himself. Me name’s Henry – Henry Fairweather. I work up at big house, Hensal Grange. It’s home to Mr Harvey’s mother and her husband. They have an empty cottage – it’s usually allocated to the groom, only they haven’t got one at the moment, nor are thinking of setting one on. They’ve got rid of all the hunters and mounts. They just keep the shires for working on the farm, and I look after them. Happen if you ask Mr Harvey about it, he could put a word in for you.’

  ‘Well, he ain’t never done owt like that afore, so what’s with you thinking as he will now then?’ the bartender asked Henry.

  ‘Cos I happen to know he’s desperate for pit workers. None’s been coming through, and folk reckon as it’s cos of there being no accommodation ready yet.’ He turned back to Will and gestured with his hand, as if pointing to someone. ‘Mr Harvey wants new seam up and running afore winter sets in. When did you say you were given job?’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon. Mr Harvey said nothing about a cottage then. In fact he gave me a couple of days to find sommat or let him know, so he could find someone else for the job.’

  ‘Well, happen he’d not thought on how difficult it was, or even given his ma’s empty cottage a thought. You mark my words, he ain’t gonna find anyone else, so you’ve a good chance. Have you a family, then?’

  ‘Aye, me mother and me future wife. I’m for posting banns within three weeks of us registering here.’

  ‘Well, if I were you, I’d get back up to pit and try your luck.’

  ‘Ta, I will. Thanks, Henry. It’s good of you. And with a bit of luck I’ll be seeing you again. Me name’s Will – William Hadler.’

  ‘Aye, all right. Good luck to you, Will.’

  ‘Good luck to you’ seemed to be a saying round these parts, as he’d had it said to him a time or two in the few hours he’d been here. And it’d worked, too: here he was, not two hours since he’d last heard the phrase, and he had a cottage. And what a cottage! It was lovely. Pity it was only for a short lease until the new row was finished, because he could imagine being very happy here. It was a two-up, two-down, with an added porch on the back leading to the coalhouse and a back scullery with the copper in. His ma’d love that.

  He could have hugged Mr Harvey when he’d returned to the office to see him earlier and told him what he’d heard from that Henry fellow. Mr Harvey said, ‘That sounds like a possibility. Now why didn’t I think of it? Right, as luck would have it, I’m just about to go up to see my mother. I’ll put it to her husband. I’m sure he will lease it to me for a short while. You wait here, Will. There’s a canteen across the yard. I’ll be about an hour.’

  And now here he was, standing in the garden of the place he’d soon be calling home.

  Something Bridie had told him came to his mind. She’d lain back in his arms after their love-making and given a little giggle. When he’d asked what had amused her she’d said, ‘I was for thinking about something me mammy used to say to me might just have come true,’ and then had told him the saying about having a dream and being ready to catch it. ‘And you know, Will?’ she’d continued. ‘Though I’ve not been a good girl, I have always said me prayers, and I always did have a dream. Me dream was of having a good man to love me and, now it’s happening, I am ready, and I am going to catch me dream, Will.’

  He’d said nothing, for his heart had been too full, but as he recalled it now, he knew they would both do as her mammy had said. They’d both catch the dream.

  20

  Andrew

  Breckton, December 1880

  A day never to forget

  As he held his mother in his arms, Andrew knew he would never forget today: 1st December 1880.

  The two officers stood to attention in front of them, both visibly moved by the dreadful news that one of them, a captain, had just read out to them. After a mom
ent the colonel took the scroll from the captain and handed it to Andrew. ‘Sir, Captain Eastland was a good officer and a very brave man, and the regiment will miss him. But for such news to come just hours after his own father died – I cannot tell you how sorry I am.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Andrew reached out and picked up the bell on the small table next to him and rang it. ‘You will have some refreshments, Colonel? Captain?’

  The butler appeared just as the colonel answered, ‘We wouldn’t want to intrude. I noticed an inn in the village. We will go there.’

  ‘No, no, we won’t hear of it. Jameson, show these gentlemen into the front drawing room, and please inform the kitchen to provide lunch in half an hour. Others may arrive: my sister and her husband, and my wife is on her way. I’ll join you in a moment, Colonel. There are questions I need to ask.’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  ‘Andrew. Sorry, I should have introduced myself. Andrew Harvey. I am – was – Captain Eastland’s adoptive brother. I’ll just see to my mother.’

  He nodded at Jameson, who took over the situation and led the two officers out of the room.

  ‘Oh, God, Mother. I don’t know what to say. It has all been such a shock. How are you going to cope?’

  She stood away from him, her composure regained. ‘I will, darling. Somehow I will. We have been expecting this bad news for some time, but I never dreamed it would all come on the same day.’ The door opened and she added, ‘Ah, here is Agatha now.’

  As Andrew looked at his sister, his heart felt like stone. Nothing touched it, not even his anger at her, which still festered inside of him. ‘Agatha, we have further bad news, I’m afraid.’ As he told her about Jeremy’s passing, she showed no sign of it affecting her.

  ‘I would say that for you, dear brother, this is all good news. Very good news, in fact . . .’