‘Bill Mitchell!’ a voice shouted from up top.
Making his way onto the deck he listened as a man spoke to him from the boat behind. Thanking the man Bill jumped the three steps saying, ‘We have to get to Wednesbury, boys, Rosie’s in trouble!’
Sarah stood to leave and Bill gently pushed her back into her seat. ‘You stay with us on the boat.’
Following her three men to the deck she watched as Frank stoked the fire box and John stood by the tiller. Bill jumped nimbly ashore to unhook the mooring ropes and tossing them aboard. He leapt onto the deck as the ‘Two Hearts’ chugged into the centre of the canal.
The pride she felt watching her sons threatened to choke her and she smiled as the boys stood together laughing and joking. They loved being on the water; that much was evident, and as Bill joined her she voiced her thoughts.
‘They love this as much as you do,’ Sarah said, a tinge of sadness colouring her words.
Bill nodded. Then Sarah asked, ‘Who is Rosie?’
Turning to his wife, Bill explained about Rosie Harris and how she had set them to work her boat. He told of her living on her other boat she’d bought from Betty Johnson, but when Betty passed away Rosie stayed put in Wednesbury.
Sarah watched his face as he spoke and slowly she began to realise her husband was in love with another woman. This realisation caused her little pain as she’d known for many years the love between them had died. They had lived together out of necessity, being unable to afford to live apart.
The boat chugged along on the inland waterways and John manoeuvred her beautifully in and through the locks. Bill went below to prepare lunch and Sarah sat on deck watching her boys. Her thoughts roamed. Being ‘cut-rats’ was not what she had wanted for the twins but as she kept a close watch, she couldn’t help but feel pride.
Inwardly she berated herself for the harsh words she had spoken to John the day he had left home to find his brother. It was not his fault Frank had taken off for a life on the canals. In her opinion, the fault lay squarely at Margy Mitchell’s feet, and if Sarah had her way that woman would pay dearly for it.
A feeling ran up her spine and she shivered.
‘You cold, Mum?’ John called.
Sarah shook her head and smiled at her boy. Clearly, he was concerned and had forgiven her for her previous harsh words, or was he mollified by the dreadful state she was in?
Other boats passed them by, the owners waving as they went. The boys waved back but Sarah did not. Her mind was firmly fixed on finding a way of making Margy suffer for all the upset she had caused. Payback had been what had kept Sarah going whilst she was in the ‘Spike’; during her dreadful time in that awful workhouse. Retribution had fuelled her efforts to stay alive. Now, she was back with her family where she so rightly belonged. Love or no love, Bill was still her husband and the twins would always be her sons.
As the boat chugged onwards, Sarah wondered when she would come face to face with Margy again. Little did she know that time was looming ever closer.
Twenty
Rosie was heading for the end of the towpath when she heard her name being called.
‘Rosie ’arris! Get your arse on this boat right now!’ It was the woman who had offered her a meal and had the first ‘reading’ of the day.
Rosie climbed aboard wondering what on earth the matter was.
‘Now then, I’ve watched you all day working them boats…’ The woman tilted her head indicating the crafts lining the towpath, ‘and it’s my guess you ain’t eaten a bite all day.’
Rosie drew in a breath to speak but the woman beat her to it.
‘Come on, time to eat.’ Pushing Rosie to the hatch the woman followed her down the steps. ‘Sit!’
Rosie sat, next to the woman’s husband.
Serving faggots, grey peas and fresh bread and butter the woman stood hands on hips. ‘Eat!’ she ordered.
Quietly the husband whispered, ‘I should do as you’m told girl, even I don’t argue with ’er when she’s got one on ’er like this!’
The woman roared with laughter breaking the tension, then all three enjoyed their meal. Tea and chatter followed before Rosie stood to leave, thanking her hosts.
‘Just where am you going to sleep then, young lady?’ the woman asked.
‘I thought to find a room in—’ Rosie began.
‘I don’t think so!’ the woman bellowed.
Her husband stood. Picking up Rosie’s bag he moved along the boat. The two women burst out laughing at his meek and mild manner. Rosie had a bed for the night, for which she was most grateful.
The next day after breakfast Rosie gave her thanks to the couple for their kindness. She waved from the towpath as their boat left its moorings.
With a huge sigh, Rosie sauntered along thinking of how lucky she’d been in being given a bed and food. The canal people were incredibly kind and thoughtful. A ‘yoohoo’ broke her train of thought. Looking in the direction of the call, Rosie was summoned aboard to begin her first ‘reading’ of the day.
*
Jake Harding’s vardo rolled over the cobblestones of the network of streets, his mind on Rosie. She had told him she was not a true Romany, having only been raised by Maria. How was it then, that she had the ‘sight’? It was his understanding that only those with true Romany blood possessed this gift. Casting his mind back he again heard her words, … she found me, as a five year old orphan in Wednesbury… So, Rosie’s home town was Wednesbury and where did people go when they had nothing else? Home.
Flicking the reins, he encouraged his horse to pick up its pace. He wanted to be there sooner rather than later.
Jake’s entourage followed closely behind as the line of caravans rumbled through the streets. People stopped to stare as the gypsies swept past them. Folk heaved sighs of relief when they saw the kumpania pass through their own village and on into the next. Shaking his head at their ignorance Jake kept his eyes on the road. They would not stop until they reached the heath at Lea Brook and the Monway Canal.
A sudden wind took up and blustered around the wagons and Jake pulled his collar up against the chill. Weather’s on the change, he thought. Bits of rubbish bounced along the cobbles as the wind caught it and a few leaves began to flutter from the occasional tree.
It was late in the afternoon when the ’vans finally rolled into their usual formation on the heath. The horses were released from the braces and tethered nearby to graze the stubby scrubland. Small fires were lit and kettles set to boil for tea. Food was prepared by the women and the men and children gathered sticks for the central bonfire. Jake tethered his horse with the rest then took off across the heath towards the canal. The others watched him go as they wearily began to cook their evening meals.
*
The ‘Two Hearts’ had left Wolverhampton with a cargo of newly made bricks bound for a building project in Birmingham. Bill had said that would have to wait, they needed to see what the problem was with Rosie Harris first.
Eventually mooring up in the Monway basin, John yanked a cord and the steam whistle sounded loud across the water. Frank ran to pay their fee while Bill tethered the boat to the metal bollards on the towpath. Then with Sarah, they walked the path looking for Rosie.
‘Have you seen Rosie Harris?’ Bill shouted to a woman on her boat.
‘Ar lad, her’s on the “Irene Joan” at t’other end,’ the call came back.
Bill gave his thanks as he followed the direction in which her finger pointed.
Why was she on another boat? Why was she not on the ‘Sunshine’ as she usually was? Bill ran on leaving the boys to walk with their mother.
‘Rosie! Rosie!’ Bill shouted as he reached the end of the line.
A head appeared through the hatch, the dark hair gleaming in the last rays of sunlight and Bill heaved a sigh of relief.
‘Hello, Bill! I’m coming now,’ Rosie called back. Dragging her carpet bag to the side of the boat she threw it onto the towpath before climbing do
wn herself.
‘Thank God you’re all right! We had a message you were in trouble!’ Bill said in a fluster.
‘It’s a long story,’ Rosie answered, then seeing the twins she smiled. ‘Hello “One Mind”,’ she joked. The boys gave her a hug then introduced their mother. Rosie was shocked at the woman’s appearance but hid it well.
Back on the ‘Two Hearts’ Rosie related all that had happened to her, all the while feeling Sarah’s eyes burning into her. Then in turn, she heard how Bill’s wife came to be on the towpath at Wolverhampton and being carried aboard by her sons.
‘I’m so sorry for your misfortune, Mrs Mitchell,’ Rosie said.
Sarah dismissed the words with a wave of her hand. Instead she said, ‘I suppose you’ll be taking back your boat now then?’
‘No, no! I can’t put Bill and the boys out of work! Besides, if they continue to work the boat, it benefits us all.’ Rosie was surprised at the woman’s thinking process.
‘Rosie, what will you do? You have no home now!’ Bill intervened.
Rosie screwed up her mouth. ‘I know and that does pose a bit of a problem.’
Sarah regarded the young woman as discussions ensued. She noted the dark complexion, not all of the sun’s doing, the dark eyes and hair. Foreign blood ran in those veins she was sure. Sarah thought that despite all that had happened to her, and could happen in the future, Rosie Harris had steadfastly refused to put Bill and the twins out of work by taking back her boat.
Sarah watched the interaction between her husband and the girl and felt a niggle in her brain. Was there something going on there? Were they in a relationship? Was her husband cheating on her again?
It was then that a shout was heard.
‘Rosie! Where are you Rosie? Rosie…!’
Going on deck the young girl saw him. Jake Harding was shouting her name at the top of his lungs.
Spotting her, he ran towards her. ‘Oh Rosie! I found you! I heard you were in trouble.’
Jumping off the boat she said quietly, ‘It would seem the whole world has heard I was in trouble.’
‘What’s happened?’ Jake demanded as he grabbed Rosie’s arms.
Pulling away she said, ‘I’ve lost my boat and now I have nowhere to live.’
‘Right. You’re coming with me!’ Jake grabbed her arm once again.
‘No, Jake!’ Rosie shouted trying unsuccessfully to pull away again.
‘Rosie! You have to! You have nowhere to go! Come back with me!’ Jake yelled.
‘No!’
Bill landed on the towpath with a thud. ‘Best leave the lady alone.’
‘Bugger off!’ Jake yelled and snatched Rosie’s arm making her yelp.
Clenching his fist Bill swung his arm and hit Jake squarely on the jaw.
Letting go of Rosie, Jake stumbled. Righting himself he tried to swing at the man who had hit him, but Bill stepped deftly aside.
Rosie moved back as the men squared up to each other.
‘We don’t have to do this,’ Bill said as he raised his fists like a bare-knuckle fighter.
With head down, Jake charged like a raging bull.
Again, Bill moved nimbly aside landing a sharp blow to the other’s shoulder. ‘All right, looks like we do have to do this!’
Jake staggered to a halt. Turning to face his opponent, his eyes were wild at being bested.
‘Jake, stop this!’ Rosie yelled.
A crowd of boat people had gathered to watch the fight taking place between the gypsy and the ‘cut-rat’.
Rounding on the girl Jake rasped, ‘You shut your mouth, Rosie Harris!’ Then he turned his attention back to Bill. Grinning nastily, he moved his hand behind his back and pulled out a knife from his trouser belt.
‘Come on then ‘cut-rat’, let’s be having you!’ As he made to slice the knife through the air he found his arms caught by the twins.
‘Let’s keep this fair, shall we?’ Frank said as he gave a sharp chop to Jake’s wrist causing the knife to fall to the ground. Letting go of the gypsy, he grabbed the knife and threw it into the canal. Then the boys stepped back a pace.
‘We have to stop this!’ Rosie pleaded as she made to walk between the fighters but Sarah grabbed her arm.
‘Don’t! These two need to fight it out. You go in there and you’ll get hurt!’ she said fiercely.
Rosie looked at the gaunt woman. ‘That’s your husband there. Don’t you care?’
‘Bill can look after himself, believe me.’ Sarah’s smile was macabre on her thin features.
Rosie looked back at the men and heard Bill ask, ‘Why are you doing this, mate?’
‘I ain’t your mate!’ Jake said as they circled each other. ‘Rosie belongs with us, not your lot!’
A hiss of disapproval sounded from the watching crowd and Jake grinned again. ‘You think you can beat me “cut-rat”? I’ve been fighting all my life!’
‘Is that how you wish to be remembered? Jake the fighter! Not much of a legacy for your children is it?’ Bill was endeavouring to calm the man but his words only enraged Jake even more.
‘What’s she to you anyway?’ Jake tilted his head in Rosie’s direction but kept his eyes on Bill.
‘She? Oh you mean Rosie? Well she’s my boss for a start, and she’s a dear friend,’ Bill said with a confident smile.
‘A dear friend,’ Jake mimicked. ‘Ha! Well I intend to marry her!’ The men were still circling each other as the conversation took place.
Rosie rolled her eyes as she heard Jake’s words.
Someone in the crowd yelled, ‘Stop piddling about and get on with it!’
‘William Mitchell!’ The woman’s voice rang out clearly. The crowd parted to allow Margy Mitchell and her husband through.
His eyes still on his adversary, Bill said with a cheeky grin, ‘Hello, Mum.’
Jake threw back his head and laughed. ‘Your mother come to scold you for fighting, has she?’ As his eyes returned to Bill, he felt the pain in his nose. In slow motion, he saw the clenched fist pull away from his face and realised the blood covering it was his own. A roundhouse punch to the jaw and Jake saw stars before his legs folded and his body crumpled to the ground unconscious.
The crowd cheered and applauded.
‘What the bloody ͗ell is going on here? I came to see what trouble young Rosie was in and I find you fighting!’ Margy was exasperated.
Putting an arm around his mother’s shoulder he said, ‘I’ll explain over a cuppa.’
It was as her son began to lead her to the boat that her eyes met Sarah’s. Shock had her gasp at the state of her daughter-in-law. Looking at her son she stuttered, ‘What…? How…?’
‘All in good time, Mum, there’s a lot to be said.’
Hearing a groan, Bill turned back to the man now sitting up on the towpath. ‘Go home, Jake, and think about all this – and leave Rosie alone!’
All now sat on the deck of the ‘Two Hearts’ with hot tea, the story began to unravel before them. Questions were asked and answers given. The only one who made no contribution to the conversations going on around her was Sarah Mitchell. She sat silently glaring at Margy and Rosie in turn, the stare threatening to burn the women to a crisp.
Twenty-one
Sleeping on the deck of the ‘Two Hearts’, Bill had relinquished his bed to Sarah. Rosie spent the night on the ‘Pride of Wednesbury’ with Margy and Abner Mitchell.
Lying in the bunk she was so familiar with, Rosie thought she’d come full circle – she was now back where she had started.
She thought about the fight between Jake Harding and Bill and how she was afraid Bill might be hurt. Her fears, it seemed, were unfounded. She smiled into the darkness as she thought about his protecting her. Her mind drifted to Margy and Abner sleeping peacefully further down the boat. Good, kind people and she thanked God for them. Following the thread of her thoughts, she came next to Sarah Mitchell. Despite the woman’s misfortune, there remained a haughtiness beneath the frail exterior.
She had learned of the bitter feud between Sarah and Margy and wondered if it would ever be resolved. Shaking her head, she thought not.
A series of pictures formed behind her closed eyelids. Bill’s smiling face as he took the scolding from his mother like a man. She saw the twins grinning at their father being told off for fighting. She read the malice in Sarah’s eyes towards Margy, a lifetime’s hatred in that glare.
A heavy sadness crept over her as she wondered what Bill would do about his wife. He had left her once before and she had ended up in the workhouse. Rosie knew in her heart he would not leave her a second time for fear of the same thing happening again. She would have to stay on the boat with her husband and sons. They would be a family again.
Rosie felt the hot tears squeeze from beneath her lashes as she imagined the scenario. Why was she feeling so upset? She had known from the off that Bill was married and therefore a relationship with him could never be. Despite knowing this, she had fallen headlong for Bill Mitchell. All others paled into insignificance for Rosie when compared with Bill.
A quiet sob escaped her throat as she covered her eyes with her arm. She wished her ‘sight’ could reveal her own future, but she knew it never would. Rosie wept as sadness wrapped her like a cloak.
Bill lay on deck watching the stars twinkling overhead. He had watched Jake stamp away from the towpath very disgruntled, but Bill had felt no satisfaction. His mind turned over all that had been said regarding Rosie and her predicament. He knew his parents would insist she remain with them on their boat. How Rosie would view that was another matter.
Pulling his blanket around him against the chill of the night, Bill then considered his own problem. What to do about Sarah? She was undernourished, thin and frail; he couldn’t just leave her to fend for herself. He had tried that before and look what happened then – she had gone into the ‘Spike’!
Bill knew he would have to speak with Rosie about Sarah staying on the boat with him and the boys. However, that would see him sleeping on deck during the winter. No, that was no solution, he would freeze to death. He could go back to sharing a bed – Sarah was still his wife after all – but he couldn’t face that option either. He didn’t want Sarah thinking he was trying to rekindle their marriage, for he felt it was finally over and done with.
The Girl on the Doorstep: from the bestselling author of The Workhouse Children (A Black Country Novel) Page 15