“No. Of course I wouldn’t. But I don’t want to send Georgie away, either. Let alone she’d feel I didn’t want her either, I don’t trust her out of my sight at the moment.”
“Then at least let her walk to school on her own.”
“And continue to meet young Brindley? Definitely not.”
“But she was only chatting to him in the street. What harm can there be in that? At her age, she feels humiliated at being escorted to and from school.”
He was disappointed that she had no better suggestion to offer and still felt angry at all the people trying to interfere in the way he looked after his sister. “Then she’ll just have to feel humiliated, Miss Merridene, because I shall continue to do as I see fit. I protect my own. And if you’ll confine yourself to your teaching from now on, we’ll both be a lot happier.”
She drew herself up, amazed at the harshness of his tone. “I shall say no more, then.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
He stood up. “Then I’ll get off home.”
After she’d showed him out in a heavy disapproving silence, he strode down the dark street without a backward glance. She whisked inside, resisting with great difficulty the temptation to slam the door behind him.
A murmur of voices coming from the schoolroom reminded her that Penelope hadn’t returned to join her and she moved in that direction. But through the half-open door she saw her sister casting a laughing glance sideways at Daniel Porter and there was something so intimate and cosy about the picture they made that Martha froze, then tiptoed back to the parlour.
What was Penelope thinking of? He wasn’t at all suitable for her.
Martha sat staring into the fire. Should she raise the matter again? No, better not. Pen only became more stubborn when someone tried to tell her what to do.
It seemed a long time until Martha heard voices in the hall, then the sound of the front door opening and closing.
Penelope came into the room, smiling, then noticed Martha’s stormy expression. “Is something wrong?”
“Only Mr Seaton being rude and autocratic. The man has no manners. He’s the last person who should be left in charge of a girl that age.”
“Oh, dear.” She went to sit in her usual armchair and picked up a piece of embroidery. “Well, now you can forget him and we’ll have a comfortable half-hour together before we go to bed.”
But Martha hardly said a word and although she had a book on her lap, she made no attempt to read it, but spent most of her time staring into the fire.
* * * *
The following day Daniel showed the drawings he and Penelope had made to the Engineer, then Ross took them and him to Ben’s office, pausing to knock on the door, but not waiting for an answer before he opened it.
Ben waved them to chairs and set his pen down carefully before leaning back and asking, “Is something wrong?”
“Nay. We’ve come to show you the drawings. The lad’s shaping up nicely.” Ross bobbed his head in his assistant’s direction. “He’s not feared of hard work an’ got these finished in his own time, with that teacher lady’s help.”
His protégé blushed slightly, but his expression was pleased.
“Show me.” Ben gestured to the desk.
Daniel unrolled the drawings and spread them out. He quickly lost his diffidence as the three men studied them and discussed materials.
“I’ll take him out to Lumbley’s, shall I?” Ross asked. “He might as well start making the acquaintance of our suppliers.”
“Yes. When shall you go?”
“Tomorrow’s as good a day as any. The new machines are working well and if you’re going to be here, you can be the engineer for the day.” He grinned at his employer, whom he had known as a lad and who had always been fascinated by machinery, often to the detriment of his clothes. “I doubt you’ll be needed, though. I make no bones about it: Daniel here is an engineer to the bone and those new machines’ll do owt he asks ’em to.”
Such high praise was unusual from Ross. Ben looked thoughtfully at Daniel. If he had a treasure here, it behoved him to make sure the man wanted to stay. “We’d better raise his wages then, to a full assistant engineer’s rate. We don’t want anyone tempting him away from us. All right with you, Porter?”
Daniel stared from one to the other, open-mouthed in surprise.
Ross nudged him. “Stop fly-catching and say thanks. He’d not have offered that if you didn’t deserve it.”
Daniel gave his employer one of his quick smiles. “Then I thank you, Mr Seaton.”
When he left the office, he looked sideways at Ross as they walked back to their own office cum workshop. “I’m grateful to you as well.”
Ross grinned at him. “I’m relieved to have found you. I’m getting on a bit and when the time comes for me to step down, I’ll be glad to see someone capable of taking my place here. I helped Ben’s father build this place an’ I’d hate to see it go downhill again.”
“I’ve never worked for anyone as
raised
wages,” Daniel said wonderingly. “He’s just
doubled
what I get.”
“You’ve never worked for anyone as could see what a man had in him like Ben Seaton does. It’s only with women he can’t see his nose on his face.” He didn’t explain this cryptic remark caused by a recent conversation with his cousin Hepzibah, but went on briskly, “Now, we’ll have to catch the early stage coach into Manchester tomorrow, so you’d best be up early. Lumbley’s makes our special parts for us and well worth the trip, because they know what they’re doing, none better.”
Daniel wished he could tell Penelope what had happened. He didn’t wish Ross Turner ill, but if there was a prospect of him becoming engineer at Seaton’s when the other man stopped working, then a future for him and Penelope was also possible. Surely it was?
Ross clapped him on the shoulder. “Come down from them clouds, young fellow. We’ve still got work to do.”
* * * *
In the slums of Manchester, a stone’s throw away from the River Irwell, the man known as Jack to his face and Croaky Jack behind his back, opened a letter and read its contents, smiling as he did so. “Thought he’d come back to me for more help.” His companions looked up as he spoke. “We’re off to Tapton again,” he told them.
“Sodding place. They give me the creeps, those moors do, all that bare space an’ no people.”
Jack stopped smiling to study him. “Are you saying you won’t go back there, Hobb?”
“A’course I’m not. Just sayin’ I don’t like it, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m not interested in what you like and don’t like. I’m interested in making money out of that old rogue.”
He grinned as he stared into space for a moment, relishing the thought of squeezing a few bright gold sovereigns out of Noll, and the other men kept quiet. You didn’t upset Croaky Jack, if you could help it.
“We have some work to do before we go back, lads. I need to find a house to keep some prisoners in for my friend Noll. A comfortable place but on its own, a farm house out on the moors, maybe. And we’ll need a woman to cook and wash for ’em, because they’re to be well looked after. The folk we’re capturing may need to stay there for a few days or even longer. I wonder . . . ”
The men stayed silent. Born of the slums, they knew little of life outside Manchester.
“The place needs checking out personally. Hobb, you and me can do that.” He grinned as his henchman scowled. “Cheer up. You were getting better at staying on horses by the time we got back from Tapton. Riding is just a matter of practice.” He swung round to the other man. “Your job, Dirk, is to find me a carriage and horses.”
“To buy or hire?” Dirk asked.
“Neither, if I can help it. Why spend money if you don’t need to? I want a carriage we can pinch from someone and then not bring back again, something very ordinary, that folk won’t look at twice.”
“Bit hard, that.”
“Well, you’d better start working on it, then. We’ll need some horses too. Might have to buy them.” He sucked thoughtfully on a gap in his teeth and decided that was the main needs covered for the present. Waving one hand in dismissal, he waited till they’d left then fumbled in the drawer he called ‘my desk’ and pulled out a piece of paper with a couple of grimy fingerprints at the top. As he began to draft a letter, he chewed on his thumb from time to time, considering what he should charge.
Noll was going to find this more expensive than he’d expected and he wasn’t going to wriggle out of paying handsomely.
* * * *
A few days later Noll scowled out of his office window at the weather. Black clouds were scudding across the sky and even as he watched, fat drops of sleet began to rattle against the panes of glass. Within seconds it was pouring down so heavily you couldn’t see across the mill yard. He went to hold his hands out to the fire.
When there was a knock on the door, he yelled, “Come in!” and Gerry peered inside.
“Well, are you going to let all the warm air out? Come inside, man, and quick about it.”
The overlooker did as ordered, sinking down thankfully on to a chair because his feet hurt after being on them for several hours. “There’s someone to see you.”
“Oh? Why didn’t you bring him in?”
“It’s the fellow as helped out when we were after Seaton last time. He’s round at my place, like you arranged. The wife sent our youngest over to tell me.”
“Make sure she doesn’t say anything about him to your neighbours. He’s her cousin as far as they’re concerned.”
“She knows that.”
“You can bring him round here once the mill’s shut.”
Gerry nodded.
“Why the sour face?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“He’s all right, Jack is. Did me a favour or two when I was starting up, so if I can push a bit of work his way, I do. He won’t try to diddle me like some might.”
Gerry refrained from saying that last time Croaky Jack had let his master down good and proper, allowing Seaton to get his machinery in under the cover of darkness. It didn’t do any good reminding Noll of things that had gone wrong. In fact, nothing did much good with him lately. He’d turned into a right cantankerous devil and Gerry was the one who usually bore the brunt of his ill humour.
But what was a man to do? You had to eat, didn’t you. There were no other jobs like this one available in Tapton.
On the final Sunday in February, Martha and Penelope enjoyed a brisk walk to church, while Sally went there shortly afterwards with Meg by her side.
Ben escorted his sister to church. He hadn’t been a regular attender until Georgie came to live with him but now considered it his duty, though truth to tell the service bored him to tears. One of the main benefits was that it got his sister out of the house and gave her an excuse to dress up, so she was usually in a better mood on Sundays.
He felt a bit down spirited today, however, conscious that he had been far too sharp with Martha the other evening and unsure how to set things right with her. Her good opinion had come to mean a lot to him and . . . He cut his musing off short, not wanting to pursue that avenue of thought. He had enough on his plate trying to deal with Georgie.
As he sat down he noticed Peter Brindley across the aisle in the pew Noll paid for but rarely used, and his bad humour surged back with a vengeance. You couldn’t go anywhere without tripping over that damned popinjay. He scowled across the aisle and Brindley smiled at him, inclining his head slightly as if Ben were a friend.
Georgie flopped down beside her brother in the pew, straightening her clothes then sighing as she stared round at the congregation. She didn’t know why she bothered to come here, but at least it was something to do. Then she saw Peter gazing steadily at her from the other side of the aisle and felt a warmth creeping through her. She couldn’t help stealing a few more glances in his direction. To her surprise, he was looking thinner and when he looked down at his hymn book, letting his guard drop, it seemed to her that he had a weary air to him, as if something was preying on his mind.
Then he raised his head, saw her looking at him and nodded a greeting. Deciding on outright rebellion, she raised one hand in response. After all, he’d once said it brightened his day to talk to her and she felt the same about him. He was so easy to be with and he made her laugh, unlike her solemn brother who was always giving her lectures or scolding her, and who usually treated her like a child.
She hadn’t felt like a child since her father died.
Ben nudged her. “Stop staring at him!”
She pulled away. “How are you going to prevent me? Cover my eyes as well as tying me to your side?”
Jonas Wright, who was sitting in the pew in front of theirs, half-turned his head and gave Georgie a stern look. She scowled at him as well, for good measure. He was as bad as her brother, always looking at her disapprovingly.
From a few rows behind them Martha saw the sudden rigidity of their backs and the way Georgie edged along the pew till there was a two foot gap between her and her brother. It wasn’t hard to guess that there had been some disagreement between them and she hadn’t missed the lowering look on Ben’s face as he walked into church. She wished he would be kinder to that poor girl, but it wasn’t her business, as he’d made only too plain, so she didn’t intend to interfere again.
But he was heading for trouble if he didn’t change the way he was treating Georgie, she was quite sure of that.
After the service the two sisters lingered in spite of the chill wind, exchanging greetings with the parson’s wife, then the doctor and his wife. They were beginning to know a few people now, Martha thought with satisfaction, which made her feel more at home in Tapton.
She watched Mr Wright send his children home in the elderly maid’s care then come across to them with his wide smile.
“Libby asked me to thank you, my dear ladies, for doing exactly what we wished with the girls. They need a carefree time away from home.”
“How is your wife?”
His smile vanished abruptly. “Sadly her incapacity is increasing and it casts a shadow over us all. She would have liked to ask you to visit, but hasn’t been well enough to leave her bed.”
“Is there nothing to be done for her?”