Eve and Her Sisters (8 page)

She hoisted Mary further up her back. It felt as though it was breaking. But everything depended on their finding work. There had to be one person in the whole of the north-east who would give them a chance. Didn’t there?

They reached Saltwell Park just before one o’clock, the bad weather having hampered their progress. After getting directions they made their way past the bowling green and the aviaries full of twittering birds. The rain had at long last let up, a weak sun occasionally popping its head out from behind the grey scudding clouds, but the day was cold. September was all but over, winter was round the corner.

They heard the music from the fair’s merry-go-round before they saw the bandstand, but on turning a corner, green lawns stretched in front of them and the sprawling stalls of the Michaelmas Fair met their eyes. Setting Mary down, Eve took her bundle from Nell and made Mary do the same. There weren’t many people walking round the fair, no doubt due to the morning’s rain, but she saw a line of folk standing by the bandstand and her heart sank. There were several men and quite a few women and girls of her age or older, and even a couple of families at one end. More people than she had hoped for certainly.They approached the bandstand and joined the line next to one of the families. The woman glanced at them and nodded, but she did not speak. Eve realised no one was talking.

About twenty minutes later a stout gentleman dressed like one of the gentry approached the line. He walked down it slowly and then stopped in front of the man of the family next to them. Eve received a surprise when the man spoke because his accent was broad, coarse even.‘How many of you are there?’

‘Six, sir.’ The man’s eagerness was pitiful.

‘I’m looking for a labourer who isn’t afraid of hard work and a woman who’s experienced in the dairy.’

‘That’ll be us, sir. Fifteen years we’ve been with Farmer Armstrong, Wickham way, and the wife in the dairy all that time along with helping the missus in the house. The master died three months ago and the son’s selling—’

‘Yes, yes.’ He was impatient. ‘And your lads?’ Hard eyes weighed up the couple’s children. ‘How old are they?’

‘The youngest is six, sir, and the oldest’ll be thirteen next summer.’

‘So they could be put to use when they’re back from school.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘Religion?’

The man glanced at his wife and hesitated. He was obviously trying to work out what the farmer wanted to hear. After a moment it was the wife who ventured, ‘Church of England, sir.’

The farmer nodded. ‘Good, good. I can’t abide this so-called Nonconformist claptrap and the Catholics are worse.’The small eyes in the fleshy face studied the family again, for all the world as though he was buying cattle for his farm. ‘There’s a two-roomed cottage, clean and dry, and a sack of tatties each week, along with plenty of logs and bits of wood for the range. You’d get ten shillings to start with.’

Eve stared at the farmer. Ten shillings a week for this man and woman working all hours and their children too once they were home from school? Surely he would ask for more. And then the man’s voice came, quiet and servile. ‘Thank you, sir, and you won’t regret it. By, you won’t. It’s grateful we are and—’

Again he was silenced by a wave of the farmer’s hand.‘It’s Willow Farm, Felling way. I’m Farmer Burns. Be there tonight by seven o’clock and one of my men will be waiting for you. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, sir, I understand.’

‘You have furniture, I take it?’

‘Aye, the wife’s sisters have it in their houses but I can get a flat cart from—’

‘Seven then. Prompt.’ With that he walked off, the tails of his coat flapping.

Once the farmer had disappeared, the wife said in a low voice, ‘Ten shillings, Jim.’

‘It’s better than nowt.’The man’s tone had altered, it was harsh, choked. ‘He knows he’s got us over a barrel. It’s the worst time of year to get the push and at least there’s a house. We’ll manage. It’ll be better than at your mam’s. Not that I’m not grateful to her but with her only having the two rooms and your da and Don on shift work, it’s been murder.’

‘Better than the workhouse.’

‘Aye, lass. Better than the house.’

The two looked at each other for a long moment and then gathered the children together and walked slowly away.

Eve glanced at her sisters. They both looked blue with cold. She supposed she did. She bowed her head, she had a great desire at this moment to cry but she must not. Fumbling in the deep pocket of her coat she found the cloth bag holding what remained of the six shillings. Extracting a thruppeny bit, she pressed it into Mary’s hand, saying, ‘Go and buy yourself a mug of soup at one of the stalls. It’ll warm you and stop that cough. And bring me back the change, mind.’

Mary was off in a trice and as they watched her go, Eve touched Nell’s arm. ‘It’s her cough . . .’

‘I know, I know, don’t fret. I’m all right. That breakfast will do us the day, eh?’

As she had done often over the past days, Eve thanked God for Nell.The two sisters smiled at each other but said no more.

The afternoon wore on. By four o’clock their numbers had been considerably reduced but no one had stopped in front of them, not even for a moment. One or two people had turned their heads as Mary had coughed but their faces had expressed all too clearly what they were thinking.A cold, silver twilight was beginning to fall and the lights from the stalls were brighter in the gloom when yet another man approached the remaining hirelings. No one had shown any interest in over an hour and now Eve felt the stir of hope move down the line. The other family had disappeared a little while earlier after one of the children had been sick, and of the three men and six or seven females - two older women and several girls who looked to be sixteen or more - standing there, Eve knew they all presented a better picture than she and Nell did.

The man was young, tallish, and although his coat and trousers looked to be of good quality he wasn’t got up like the farmer had been or some of the other men who had stopped in front of the line. He walked slowly and she saw straightaway he was looking to hire a female because he didn’t even glance at the men. He stopped in front of one girl - a pert piece, Nell had termed her a little while before - and spoke to her for a minute or two before moving on. And then he was about to pass her and Eve felt a wave of terror encompass her. This was their last hope, it was nearly dark, and if he walked away what were they going to do? Against everything she had observed during the afternoon, she spoke first, saying, ‘Please, sir.’

He turned, his face expressing surprise. ‘Yes?’

She didn’t know what to say now that she had got his attention. Only the knowledge that she had to try or they were lost forced the words out of her dry mouth. ‘We . . . my sister and I are looking for work, any kind of work.’

He nodded, his gaze moving to Nell and then back to her before falling on Mary.

In answer to the unspoken question, she found herself beginning to gabble. ‘This is my other sister, she’s small but she’s stronger than she looks.’ Mary chose that moment to cough convulsively but, ignoring her, Eve carried on, ‘My da and brothers were killed at the pit and it was a tied house so we had to leave. We didn’t have anywhere to go and so we’re looking for work.’ She had already said that. Desperately she searched her mind for something to say that would keep him in front of them.

‘How old are you?’

She didn’t falter as she said, ‘Fifteen, sir, and my sister’s thirteen.’

His face expressed his disbelief but his voice was flat when he said, ‘And the bairn?’

She could tell the truth about Mary. ‘She was ten in July.’

‘You say you had nowhere to go?’

‘No, sir.’

‘So where are you staying at present?’

For answer, she said, ‘Last night we slept in a barn.’

He didn’t speak for a moment but looked the three of them over again. Eve could tell he was uncomfortable and wanted to move on but she had run out of words.

‘I was only looking for one domestic to work in my inn.’

‘I see.’ Her voice had a dull note to it.

‘Isn’t there somewhere or someone who could take the child off your hands? Your sister and yourself would find work then.’

‘I don’t want her off my hands.’ She had answered more sharply than she’d intended. Weakly now, she added, ‘We’re staying together, the three of us. We-we’ll find somewhere.’ She didn’t know why she had said that, perhaps it was because he was looking so ill at ease. She almost felt sorry for him.

He nodded, turning from her and walking on. Her shoulders slumped but then she brought herself straight as he swung round and came back. ‘There’s only one attic room at the inn for the three of you and I can’t offer much but if you are both prepared to work then perhaps I can take you on.’ He was speaking quickly as though he was already regretting the offer. ‘My mother isn’t too well, you see. Up until now she worked in the kitchen. I take it you can cook?’

‘Aye, yes. My mam died years ago and I was running the house up until - until the accident.’

‘I’m talking about cooking for more than a handful of people. Can you do that?’

She nodded vehemently. ‘Yes, sir, and Nell can help.’

‘And you say you’re used to running a house? Washing, ironing and the like? There’s a daily who comes in but my mother did her share too. I’m not sure how she will be over the next little while. She may not get better.’

‘We can do it, we’ll do anything.’ Nell chimed in, her round face alight. ‘Won’t we, Eve?’

The shadow of a smile touched the young male face. ‘It’s long hours and hard work but there’ll be as much food as you can eat and a warm bed at night. Like I said, I was only looking for one person so the most I can offer is five shillings.’

Five shillings. A shilling less than she had been earning at the vicarage and for that he got Nell too. But the three of them would have their meals and a roof over their heads. For that she would have worked for free. Her face beaming, Eve said, ‘Thank you, sir. We accept.’

His smile widened. ‘Oh, you accept, do you?’ It was as though she had said something amusing. ‘Where are your things?’

Eve nodded at the bundles behind them. ‘That’s it?’ The smile had left his face. He didn’t comment further, saying quietly, ‘I’ve some business to attend to but I’ll be leaving at six o’clock. Meet me by the Dog and Duck.You know where that is?’

They shook their heads. ‘We come from Stanley,’ Mary piped up, deciding she had been ignored too long. ‘We don’t know where anything is.’

‘I see.’ He was smiling again. He looked nice when he smiled, Eve thought. ‘And what’s your name?’

‘Mary Baxter.’ Mary beamed at him. He was a nice man.

‘And I’m Eve, sir, and this is Nell. But we’ll find the Dog and Duck easy enough.’

He nodded. ‘My name is Travis, Caleb Travis, and I’m no sir, all right? Till six it is then, and don’t be late.’

‘We won’t, s—Mr Travis.’

They watched him walk away and then Eve grabbed her sisters’ hands and held them tightly for a moment. ‘Pick up your things.’ Even to herself her voice sounded gay. ‘We’re going to have a bite to eat, would you like that? And not soup. What about pie and peas and a hot drink to go with it? We’re going to be sleeping in a bed tonight.’ And they all laughed, although Eve found she could just as easily have cried.

What the dickens had possessed him? Caleb Travis’s face was grim as he left the noise of the Michaelmas Fair and made his way out of Saltwell Park. On reaching the back yard of a fishmonger he knew, he tipped the fishmonger’s lad a couple of pence for keeping an eye on his horse and cart and climbed up into the narrow wooden seat. His mother would have a fit when he walked in with those three lassies, one nowt but a little bairn. He didn’t believe the other two were the age that thin one who was as straight as a pit prop had said either. Three of them, dear gussy. He groaned in his throat. What on earth had he been thinking of to take them on?

Pulling his cap down low over his eyes he scowled as he clicked at the horse to walk. He had come to the hirings intending to look for a competent cook and in his mind’s eye he’d decided a woman of middle age, someone who’d perhaps fallen on hard times, would be able to take his mother’s tongue in her stride. And the devil himself needed all his gumption when his mam was in full flow. He’d often thought over the last six years since his da had died he’d done it on purpose to escape the nagging and complaining he’d had to put up with at home. Fourteen he’d been then, and ever since he’d shouldered the responsibility for keeping the inn up and running but never a word of appreciation from his mam.And he wouldn’t have minded that so much if she’d tried to be civil, but it wasn’t her way. Mind, with the customers, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Aye, she could be sweetness and light when it suited her.

He drove into the town and stopped at a butcher who could be relied on for good meat at a knockdown price when bought in bulk. Then he did the rounds of the other shops and once his purchases were complete he returned the way he’d come. The whole time his mind had been preoccupied with the mess he had got himself into.

But how could he have walked away? he asked himself for the umpteenth time. It was clear they were desperate. And complain though his mother most assuredly would, she was getting double the work for the price of one. Not that she would see it that way because it wouldn’t suit her to. If he had come back with the paragon of all domestics, she’d have found fault somewhere. Well, he’d taken his mother on more than once over the last six years and no doubt he would do so again, and probably before the day was out.

When the horse lumbered to a halt in front of the Dog and Duck he didn’t see them at first, the night being so dark, and for a moment he felt relief. Then a voice out of the shadows called, ‘Mr Travis? Is that you?’