‘Lottie? Wharrever is the matter? There’s a barge chuggin’ up behind us. Can you hear it? If we wave and shout, mebbe the feller aboard will draw over and we can find out where we are.’ Merle looked curiously at her friend. ‘What’s up? Ten minutes ago you’d clapped your hands over your lugs and looked so fierce that I dursen’t say a word, an’ now you’re grinnin’ from ear to ear. Somethin’s pleased you. You might tell me what it is – I could do wi’ cheerin’ up.’
Lottie turned eagerly to her companion. ‘We’ve been lookin’ in all the wrong places,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It won’t mean much to you – it didn’t to me at the time – but Mrs Donovan told us she’d worked the canals and she said she knew me when I was just a kid. I reckon when Louella stopped sending money Gran took to the canals to keep her off our trail and I bet she’s gone back there now. Oh, Merle, I believe we’re on the right track at last!’
Both girls assumed that when they reached the bakery they would be in trouble, but this did not prove to be the case. Everyone was late, grumbling about the fog and saying that they should not be expected to come to work in such conditions. Two of the men lived on the outskirts of Leeds and cycled in each morning and they were even later than Lottie and Merle, so the girls found themselves actually doing some of the baking, which gave them a chance to exchange a few words from time to time.
‘What do you want to do now you think you know where that gran of yours is to be found?’ Merle asked as she and Lottie weighed out ingredients.
Lottie was enjoying herself, finding the work far more interesting than their usual boring and repetitive tasks, but she was still unsure of what their next move must be and said so, keeping her voice low. ‘We did geography at school and we once had to draw a map of the British Isles, with all the rivers and canals marked in blue crayon,’ she said. ‘Merle, I’m telling you there’s hundreds of miles of waterways all over the country. It may be simpler to search canals and question canal folk than it was to do the same with circus and fair people, but it still won’t be easy. I’ve been thinking and thinking and I reckon our best bet will be to go back to Liverpool and ask Mrs Donovan if she can remember the name of Gran’s boat and where we would be likely to find her. Only – only I don’t want to walk into anyone who knows us, not until I’ve found Gran.’
Merle stopped for a moment. ‘I know what you mean. We want to go back successful, an’ if we go now they’ll think we’re a couple of failures,’ she said.
Lottie seized a ball of dough and pressed it into one of the waiting tins, then did the same with another. She carried them into the hot kitchen to prove and then returned to her friend’s side and began weighing out once more. ‘Look, Merle, we’ve stuck together through thick and thin but now you’ve got to think about that baby. Oh, I know you want nothing to do with it but it’s got to come out, whether you like it or not, and you don’t want to go giving birth in Liverpool where you’re known to half the population, if not more,’ she said. ‘I think you should stay here. Mrs Piggott knows you’re pregnant and has accepted that you’re a widow, and you liked the doctor and that young nurse you saw at the hospital, didn’t you? I reckon you should stay in Leeds, even though I’ll miss you horribly.’
Merle looked frightened. ‘But I can’t have the baby at Mrs Piggott’s house; I’ll have to go into hospital,’ she said. She gazed at the little Woolworth ring on the third finger of her left hand. ‘Only – only I didn’t tell the people at the hospital that I wanted the baby adopted and when I tell them they’ll guess, won’t they?’
‘No, of course they won’t,’ Lottie said bracingly. ‘You can tell them you need to earn your living and can’t cope with the baby as well.’
‘But Lottie, hospitals ain’t like them homes what Uncle Max wanted me to go in . . .’ Merle was beginning when one of the cooks came over to their table.
‘Jake’s in,’ he said, grinning at them. ‘You might as well continue with the bread, then he can start on the fancies. When you’ve done the big loaves, you’d best make bread rolls with the remainder of the dough.’
The girls had no more opportunity to discuss their problem until they were going home that afternoon, when the subject which had been on their minds all day could be talked over in private. ‘I’m going to make a clean breast of it to the young nurse what lives a few doors off from Mrs Piggott – tell her I need to have the baby adopted,’ Merle said. ‘I’ll say I were on the stage and explain that I can’t afford to keep it because babies and theatres don’t mix, and I need to work. She’s bound to know how one goes about findin’ a kid a good home.’
Lottie laughed. ‘You make the baby sound like a stray puppy,’ she said. ‘Don’t go telling her you aren’t a widow, though.’
‘Course I shan’t,’ Merle assured her. ‘When will you be leavin’ to go back to Liverpool?’
‘Tomorrow,’ Lottie said at once. ‘You’ll have to explain at work and pick up my wages as well as yours. Lucky it’s Saturday so we’ll get the whole week.’
‘You wouldn’t like to stay on just for a few more days?’ Merle said wistfully. She was still looking worried and Lottie guessed that the idea of giving birth amongst virtual strangers must be a frightening one. ‘The trouble is, I really don’t know when I’m goin’ to pop, never havin’ done it before. So a few days mightn’t be enough.’
‘Tell you what, I’ll come back to Leeds just as soon as I’ve spoken to Mrs Donovan,’ Lottie said, inspired. ‘Why, I shan’t be gone more than two or three days.’
They returned to Mrs Piggott’s, and when they had explained to her that Lottie was returning to Liverpool for a short time they received another surprise. ‘You’ll be going by train no doubt, ’specially if you’re in a hurry,’ their landlady said placidly. ‘I’ve a brother-in-law what visits Liverpool reg’lar and knows it well, but of course he don’t need no train bein’ as how he’s master of a canal barge. They plies to and from the mills, tekkin’ great bales of cotton from Liverpool in one direction and finished material in t’other.’
Lottie could hardly believe her ears. ‘Your brother-in-law works the canals? I wonder if he’d know my gran,’ she said. ‘Her name’s Mrs Olly.’
Mrs Piggott shrugged and continued to pour tea into their mugs. ‘As to that I couldn’t say, but I should think it likely, though there’s a great many canals, as you doubtless know. But I thought you said your gran told fortunes at fairs and circuses around the coast.’
‘Yes, that was what Merle and I believed,’ Lottie admitted. ‘But now we think it quite likely that she’s gone back to her former trade, which was working a barge on the canals. In fact, that’s why I’m returning to Liverpool, to trace someone who knew her in the old days.’
‘I see,’ Mrs Piggott said. She pushed two mugs of tea towards the girls, then turned to the oven and produced a large pie. ‘Meat and tater,’ she said briefly. ‘Sit yourselves down and I’ll serve.’
Despite Lottie’s hopes of leaving the following morning, she had agreed with Merle to spend a day or two preparing herself for her journey. It would enable her to collect her week’s wages, for neither girl could afford to say goodbye to the money they had earned, and Merle had pointed out that their boss would not willingly hand over one person’s cash to another. ‘And if he realises you ain’t comin’ back, he’ll hang on to it like grim death,’ Merle said. ‘Besides, as soon as we finish work we can both go down to the canal and see if we can get news of your gran.’
There had been pleading in her voice as well as practicality, so Lottie had agreed to put off her departure until Monday, and so far all had gone smoothly. When they had received their wages, Lottie had explained – untruthfully but earnestly – that she had had a letter from a relative telling her that her mother had been taken ill. This meant that she must return to Liverpool to see for herself how things stood, but she hoped to be back in a couple of days. ‘So if you could see your way clear to keeping my job open . . .’ she had said hopefully, and had not been unduly perturbed when the boss had replied grumpily that he’d see how things went.
‘If there’s a strong young feller or a sturdy girl recommended, then I aren’t tekkin’ ’em on just for a couple of days, so you can kiss your job goodbye,’ he had said nastily, adding in a less aggressive tone: ‘But folk don’t like the three a.m. start so mebbe you’ll be back afore someone else teks over.’
Lottie had thanked him humbly, and she and Merle had caught the tram back to their lodgings, both a good deal happier to think that Lottie had a bit of money for her journey. ‘Only I’ll have to pay Mrs Piggott for the coming week,’ she said as they jumped down from the tram and headed towards their lodgings. ‘I’m going to ask her the name of her brother’s boat. It ’ud be grand if he would let me work my passage all the way to Liverpool. Train fares are expensive and though I know tramps sometimes ride a train by hanging on between the carriages, I don’t fancy doing it myself.’
Merle shuddered at the mere suggestion and, as they reached the house, pointed out that her friend might offer to work her passage on any canal boat going in the right direction.
Lottie thought this a good idea and suggested that they hurry to their room, eat the sandwiches they had bought, and then go along to the canal. ‘Why, I’d even work on a coal barge if it meant a free trip to Liverpool!’ she said exultantly.
When they reached the canal they walked beside it until they came to a part of it where a good many craft were moored whilst they discharged cargo or took more on board. The bargees were busy and there was quite a lot of bad language as the long craft were manoeuvred in and out of places alongside the quay, but Lottie managed to shout her query about Gran to a number of the men.
Almost invariably their reply to her question was one of their own. ‘What’s the name of her craft? What goods does she carry? Does she work the Leeds to Liverpool regular? If it’s a fly boat – they’re the craft what ply twenty-four hours a day – then it would be engine driven.’
‘When are you going to ask one of ’em if you can have a lift, working your passage like?’ Merle whispered. ‘Ask someone who’s unloading an’ if he says yes, then we’ll have time to rush home an’ pick up some of your stuff. Go on, Lottie, don’t be an idiot.’
‘Oh, but I don’t know how long it takes to get from Leeds to Liverpool by water, and they all seem pretty capable and not in need of help,’ Lottie replied, in an agony of indecision. ‘I wish there were more women about.’
‘They’re in the cabins gettin’ a meal, or off into town to buy grub,’ Merle said. ‘Or they might be stablin’ the horses. I seen some women leadin’ horses up that side street and since there ain’t no grass for ’em to graze on, I reckon they buy ’em a net of hay an’ stick ’em in the stablin’ until they’re loaded up an’ ready to leave. But if you ain’t goin’ to ask we might as well go home, ’cos I’m gettin’ perishin’ cold standin’ here while you dither.’
Horrified at the idea of being abandoned, Lottie went boldly up to the nearest canal boat and addressed the woman at the tiller. ‘Please, missus, I’ve got to get back to Liverpool – me mam’s ill – and I’ve no money for the train fare. Could you do with a helping hand? I can’t pay much but I’d do my best to earn my keep.’
The woman grinned at her: a flash of surprisingly white teeth in a face which was brown and leathered by constant exposure to sun, wind and rain. ‘No, me lass, we’m fully manned. Me daughter sleeps in the rear cabin and between us we manage just fine. Howsoever, old Nat’s missus were took bad down at the Liverpool docks, and I dare say he’d be glad of a hand. Want me to ask him for you?’
‘Oh, yes please,’ Lottie said eagerly. What a piece of luck to have picked on someone so kind! ‘Have I time to rush back to my lodgings and fetch some gear? Which is Mr Nat’s boat, by the way?’
‘His barge is the
Lucky Lady
and he’s horse-drawn,’ the barge woman said. ‘His craft is the third one in line, waitin’ to take up a berth, so you’d be all right for an hour at least. But I’d best nip down there and have a word.’
She was only gone a few minutes and Lottie watched anxiously as she spoke to a short, stout man at the tiller of the craft she had pointed out. He stared across at the two girls, grinned and raised a hand, and then the barge woman was hurrying towards them. ‘You’re on,’ she said cheerfully. ‘He says to bring some grub along ’cos he’s no time for shoppin’, and to be back in an hour ’cos once he’s loaded he wants to leave immediately, seein’ as how his wife weren’t too good when he left her.’
Immensely heartened, the two girls tore back to their lodgings. Lottie threw a few things into her holdall, then kissed Merle goodbye and, when her friend showed a tendency to weep, reminded her that their parting would not be a long one. ‘I’ll be back before you’ve had a chance to miss me,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Take care of yourself, Merle, and don’t go having that baby whilst I’m away.’
Leaving the house, Lottie went straight to the nearest corner shop. She bought several tins of corned beef and luncheon meat, a bag of potatoes, three loaves of bread and a pound of cheese. She crammed these goods into her holdall, then added four large onions, a few apples and a quarter of tea and was about to pay for her purchases when the shopkeeper suggested that she might like a couple of tins of condensed milk, since she was obviously off on a bit of a holiday. Lottie examined her money carefully and decided that the shopkeeper was right. She knew little about the canal but thought it unlikely that fresh milk would be available, though she supposed that their journey would take them through farming country for at least a part of the time. Her knowledge of canals, however, was confined to that section in Leeds which she and Merle had walked along, and to the Scaldy in Liverpool, where the boats loaded and unloaded by Tate’s enormous factory, and these were both very built-up areas.