by Helen Spring
'Like your family do in Birmingham?' Anna could not help the remark slipping out, but Robert did not seem put out.
'Touché my dear. But we were never on such a scale as this, and not such heavy industry. Our factory makes small items, japanned ware and the like. My father always ensured his employees were well looked after, and Andrew does the same. There is not the sort of poverty I have seen in Sandley Heath.'
Anna shivered, and Robert was immediately solicitous. 'I thought you would be cold as soon as we stopped walking.' He took off his coat and wrapped it around her, and Anna snuggled into the luxurious body warmth.
'You see before you Anna, a different sort of beauty than that you saw from this same spot in summer.'
'It is a wonderful sight most certainly,' Anna agreed, 'I never saw anything like it in my life. But how can a battlefield be beautiful? It is not the word I would use to describe it.'
'No? What word would you use?'
Anna hesitated. 'If it is a battlefield, frightening, I think. You see the lines there, the lines of the canals? They are dark red in the light, they seem to me like veins of blood running through the land.'
'Ah, yes. I can see what you mean. But I think your reaction is coloured by what you know of what goes on there, the hard work and the poverty. As an artist I see it differently. My impression is of a great Heavenly firework display. It is the same thing as seeing you dancing on the bellows, when you weren't really dancing at all. You know what it was really like, because you were close to it, but my father, as an artist, saw the beauty in the image, and that was what he painted.'
'Yes, I see... or at least I think I do.' Anna turned her face to Robert. 'Thank you for bringing me up here, it has given me a great deal to think about. When I am hammering at the chain I shall have the consolation of knowing that from up here I look like a firework!'
Robert laughed, and after a last look at the great spectacle spread below them, they made their way down to the cottage, where Robert handed in the lanterns. When they reached the carriage Anna gave Robert his coat, knowing their time together was ending, and that she would probably never see him again. The thought filled her with despair. She glanced at his profile as the carriage rumbled back to Sandley Heath, and saw he had a troubled look. When the carriage stopped at the end of Dawkins Street he took her hand gently.
'Goodbye, my dear Anna, thank you for your help.' His look held her, she felt unable to breathe. 'I should like to paint you again some day. You are a very good model.'
He smiled gently, and her misery was profound.
'Goodbye Robert. Yes, if you need a model again, I shall be grateful for the work.'
'Perhaps next year. I am off to France for the summer.'
'Oh.' He would not even be in the country, she thought miserably. The driver opened the door and Anna climbed down from the carriage. She looked up at Robert. 'Thank you for everything.'
'Goodbye. If ever you need anything, let me know.'
The driver closed the door and mounted to his seat. He winked his eye at Anna, picked up the reins, and the carriage trundled away into the darkness.
Anna walked slowly down the ginnel and let herself in at the back door. Doors were never locked in Dawkins Street, as no-one had anything worth stealing. As she entered the back room she stopped short.
'Oh no!' It was too bad. Her father was sprawled on the floor in front of the fire, sleeping it off. At least his snoring was not the heavy stentorian sound he sometimes made and Anna decided she would probably be able to wake him and push him up the stairs herself, rather than have to fetch Will. I'll warn mother first, she decided, making her way up the scrubbed wooden stairs. As George Gibson was such a big man, his wife always had to get out of bed when Anna brought him up, in case she could not hold him and he crashed down on top of her. Anna entered the tiny bedroom and touched her mother's arm. 'It's me Mom,' she whispered. 'I'm back. Dad's asleep downstairs, I'm going to have to help him up.'
Her mother did not move. 'Mom,' Anna said more loudly. 'Wake up Mom, I've got to bring Dad up.' With sudden dread she shook her mother's arm.
'No... oh no! Mom... are you ill?' With trembling fingers she found the matches at the side of the bed and lit the candle, but her mother's body was quite cold.
~
Before Anna went to the chainshop on Thursday morning she walked to the bottom of the road to catch Clancy on his way to work. As he approached he looked the picture of dejection.
‘Hello Clancy.’
He looked up, and said with some relief, ‘Oh there ye are! I was just thinkin’ about ye. I only heard last night when I got home from work.’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t tell ye how sorry I am darlin’’. His face was full of concern. ‘To think on Saturday I was telling’ ye all my troubles about Mam. Who would have thought your own Mam would be the first to go? What was it?’
‘Her heart,’ Anna said briefly. She bit her lip and then said, ‘I’ll walk along with you.’ They walked down the bank towards the chainshop where Clancy worked as second hammer. After a moment Anna said ‘Of course she’s always been frail and a bit bluish, but I never thought...’
‘No.’
‘She had a nasty turn the day before, I should have known it was serious but she said she was alright...’ Her eyes had a pleading look, and Clancy said gently. ‘It’s nobody’s fault darlin’. Was someone with her?’
‘No!’ The sound seemed wrung from her body. ‘She was all alone. I had gone to Dudley Castle for tea with Robert, a goodbye treat...’
‘I see.’ Clancy’s tone was gentle, but his face seemed suddenly turned to stone. He said ‘And your Dad?’
‘When I got home he was lying drunk on the floor as usual.’ Anna said bitterly. ‘He must been too far gone to realise anything had happened. He may well have been there when she... when she...’
She broke off, fighting back tears. Clancy asked, ‘And how is he bearing up?’
Anna looked at him in amazement. ‘How is he? He? How should I know? I suppose he’s alright, he’s got his booze.’
‘Come on now darlin’’ Clancy said gently. ‘Think how you feel because you were out, and then imagine how he must feel...’
‘He doesn’t care...’
‘I’m sure that’s not true.’
‘If he cared he would never have been out drinking in the first place.’
A retort sprang to Clancy’s lips but he stifled it. Instead he asked, ‘Are ye on your way to work?’
‘Yes. I had yesterday off but I have to go in today or we’11 never pay for the funeral. I had six shillings saved from my pay from modelling, and another guinea Florence gave me when I left, but that’s all, and our Will has nothing...’
‘It’s your Dad’s responsibility Anna. He earns a great deal more than you...’
‘Arr. And spends it...’ she said bitterly.
‘Have you asked him for money?’
She shook her head. ‘I haven’t spoken to him,’ she said. ‘I just couldn’t bring myself to speak to him...’
‘That’s no good Anna, not for any of you. If you still feel you can’t talk to him, ask Will to do it.’
She nodded briefly, and then said, ‘The funeral, it’s Saturday at two in the afternoon.’
‘I’ll be there. Is there anything I can do?’
‘Yes. I came to ask you... will you come with me to the Clent Hills on Saturday morning? Early?’
‘Yes of course...but...on the day of the funeral...?’
‘There should be some primroses out. I know it’s early but there are sure to be some in the sheltered places. I can’t go alone, and mother loved primroses so...’
‘I’ll call for ye at six thirty darlin’. To allow plenty of time.’
‘Yes, thank you. I’m not preparing food for the tea after the service, Mary’s doing it for us.’
They said their goodbyes and Clancy went to the chainshop. As he put his bottles of cold tea into the bosh to keep c
ool, he watched Anna making her way up the bank. She looked small and slender, he thought, as if she would not have the strength to make it to the top. He wondered how she would get through the next few days, and then realised that it was the weeks to come which would be the real problem. Working all day, all the domestic duties, and a drunken father to boot. Poor lass, he thought, my heart bleeds for ye so it does.
~
'It's no use looking like that Robert.' Florence brandished the marmalade spoon as her son thrust his head into his newspaper.
'If you don't want my truthful opinion you should not ask what I think,' Florence continued, spreading marmalade on her toast. 'Leave it alone, that's my advice. Let the poor girl be.'
'That's hardly a charitable attitude!' Robert burst out. 'You know very well she needs the money, and a change of air would do her the world of good.'
'Ah! So it's Anna's welfare you are concerned about now is it? A moment ago your own needs were paramount, you must have her as a model and no-one else would do.'
'That's right!' Robert put down his newspaper. 'I do need her. If I'm to make a triptych I need another portrait. Outdoors... in the fields in her flowered dress, perhaps. Then I will have the work scene, the domestic scene and an outdoor scene.'
'And that will take the whole summer?' Florence asked with a hint of sarcasm.
'No, but Anna will have extra work from the other chaps. Jacques usually brings his wife to model for us, but she is not coming this year. She's expecting a child,' he added a little selfconsciously. 'We kill two birds with one stone. We have a model and Anna makes some money and has a good holiday into the bargain.'
Florence sighed. 'I can see your mind is already made up,' she said. 'I just want to remind you Robert...'
'What?' His blue eyes were bland over his teacup.
'You know perfectly well what...'
'Mother! You surely don't think...? I'm very fond of Anna, I wouldn't hurt her for the world.'
'Your record does not inspire confidence Robert.'
Robert slammed down his cup so that it almost broke the saucer. 'You would have to bring that up wouldn't you?'
'I'm not thinking only of you, there are the others too.' Florence said calmly.
'Therese will be there.'
'Yes, thank God!' Florence sighed, deciding she had to mend fences. 'Look dear, I'm not accusing you of any ulterior motive...'
'I should hope not!' Robert broke in.
'I'm only saying that Anna... well... she is an innocent.'
'She's more sophisticated than when she first came here, and who's idea was that? I was going to put her in the servant's quarters... like...' Robert searched for a word. 'Like ... an employee. It was you who insisted she be treated as a guest and eat at table with us. Now you' re saying ..'
'I'm not saying anything Robert, but I think on reflection perhaps I was wrong. I may have made it more difficult for the poor girl to accept her lot. And then her mother dying so suddenly a month ago... I told you I had a letter from Anna didn't I?'
'Yes.' Robert said shortly. He had had enough of the conversation and decided to be brutal. 'That is a prime consideration,' he said. 'I happen to know that Anna's father is a real drunkard and she will be alone in the house with him now. My plan will give her a break, and an increased income so that she can make a few choices of her own.'
Robert gave his mother a curt nod and left the dining room. Florence got to her feet and rang for the table to be cleared. She reflected sadly that it was not perhaps so easy to help those less fortunate than oneself, even with the best of intentions. It might be better to leave them alone, or just give them a little money to enjoy in their own way. And who was to say whether her world, the world she had tried to introduce to Anna, was an improvement on Anna's own? Materially, of course it was... but in other ways? Even so, a drunken father...
Florence went across to "The Chainmaker's Child" and stood a long time, staring at the dainty image. 'I think you may be in between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea my dear,' she said. She traced her fingers gently across the faint signature in the corner of the painting. 'Oh Andy,' she whispered, 'I do hope your family doesn't hurt your little chainmaker.'
~
'Gerron wi' it!' Ma Higgins commanded. 'Yo' ay got all day!'
Anna regarded her coldly. 'This ain't my job,' she muttered, as she carefully folded cart traces into a half size barrel.
'Wot did yo' say? I'll tek no mouth from yo' Miss Toffeenose!'
'I only said I don't get paid for this.' Anna stood her ground. 'I could be working on chain... the dog leads...'
Ma Higgins snorted. 'Yo' just do as you'm told ma wench,' she said, not unkindly. She did not mention that Anna was the only one of her workforce she could trust to count the correct number of cart traces into the barrel.
'Tell yer wot. Yo' get them traces counted out proper, an' down to Tommy 'Oskins, an' I'll put yer down fer a extra dog chain.'
Anna raised her eyebrows, Ma Higgins must have gone soft. It was impossible to make even half a dog chain in the time it would take her to do this small job.
'And in case yo' think I'm doolallytap,' said Ma Higgins, reading Anna's mind, 'There's another barrel to do after this 'un.'
Anna sighed. 'Alright,' she agreed. At least it was something different. It was a lovely Spring day outside and she would be able to breathe in the fresh air as she rolled the barrel down to the cooper for him to seal it.
'Mek sure Tommy 'Oskins does a good job,' said Ma Higgins as she turned away. 'Them cart traces is goin' all the way to Masser-chew-sits.'
Anna could not help but smile. Ma Higgins relished the lovely long American name, and pronounced it with a flourish as often as she could. Lots of their chains went to America, packed carefully in the wooden barrels which ensured they could be easily moved, and kept them in good condition on the sea voyage.
Having carefully counted out one hundred traces, Anna put the lid on the barrel and pulled it onto its side. She rolled the barrel carefully out into the dazzling light, laughing as the other women, infected by the bright spring sunshine, launched into "Rule Britannia" at the tops of their voices, assuring anyone who passed by that 'Britons... never never never... shall... be... slaves...' and beating time with their hammers.
Anna rolled the barrel carefully down the lane to the cooper's shop. She had to wait a few minutes before he could attend to her, and so took the opportunity to sit down on a small bank outside, where a few dandelions pushed their heads through the straggling unkempt grass. Anna picked off the flower heads and pushed them into the pocket of her baggin' apron. Not enough to make a brew for Clancy's Mom, she thought, but there might be a few more on the way home. She had an idea. Why not? Provided she did the washing first...
She got up quickly as the cooper beckoned. 'Will you seal this please? For Ma Higgins, and there's another one to come. They are for Massachusetts.'
'Leave it wi' me, ma wench.' The cooper gave her a wink. Anna smiled her thanks and then ran as fast as she could down the rutted lane, wrinkling her nose as she caught the stench from the overflowing middens in Tibbetts Yard. She ran down the bank to the forge where Clancy worked, and found him hard at it.
'What's to do darlin'?' Clancy looked quite pleased at the interruption. He took a bottle of tea from the bosh, and wiped his brow before taking a swig.
'I must be quick, only slipped out for a minute,' Anna said, breathless from her run. She glanced around the forge, giving quick smiles of recognition to the men who without exception had stopped work to look at her. 'I thought perhaps we could go to Clent tomorrow as the weather is so good. Just for the afternoon I mean, I have to do the washing first. We could find dandelions for your Mom.'
'Sure that'll be grand, I can do with the fresh air,' Clancy agreed. 'I'll come for ye, about one o'clock.' He smiled happily as he watched Anna dash away up the bank. At the top she turned, breathless, and waved her hand. Clancy waved back, closing his ears to the coarse comments of
his companions. He was pleased that Anna seemed to be emerging from the awful depression which had engulfed her when her Mam died. He felt a thrill of excitement. Perhaps everything would work out after all.
~
There were plenty of dandelions, and as Anna said goodbye to Clancy the following day at the bottom of Dawkins Street, she promised to deliver the infusion to his mother that evening, as soon as it was made.
'I've really enjoyed this afternoon,' she said, 'Thanks for taking me.'
Clancy's eyes softened. 'Ye know I hope to be taking ye much further than Clent, Anna,' he said quietly.
Anna smiled. 'I know.' She hesitated. 'It's... it's such a big decision Clancy. Let's take one step at a time shall we?'
Clancy nodded. He felt like kissing her on the cheek but thought better of it, someone might be watching. He should have done it when they were at Clent, he thought, where they found all those dandelions in the hollow...
'I'll see ye later,' he said, and walked slowly home.
Anna was lighthearted after her afternoon in the fresh air. She swung the basket of dandelion flowers and hummed a little tune as she walked up the ginnel and in at the back door. Her father was home, but he got up as she entered and reached for his jacket.
'Yo've been a while,' he said, a hint of complaint in his voice.
'Yes, been to Clent with Clancy collecting dandelion heads.' Anna surveyed the fire, which had burned very low. 'You could have banked the fire up Dad, it's nearly out.'
'Not my job to see to the fire,' he said briefly, pulling on his jacket.
Anna made no reply. She picked up the fire bucket and threw on some small coal. Then she riddled the ashes at the bottom of the grate with the poker to let air in underneath, and the fire began to draw.
'Anyway,' her father said crossly, 'No need to mek the fire up that much, not in this warm weather.'