Jake agreed that this should be perfectly possible and a great help. Lizzie tipped the prepared carrots, onions and turnip into the stewpot, added the chunks of mutton already floured and lightly fried, and pulled the pan over the fire. ‘It’ll be a while before it boils, so I’ll nip out now and sit with Priddy for a bit,’ she said. ‘If you can give me a yell, Jake, when it starts to simmer, then I’ll come in and bank the fire down so’s it doesn’t boil over.’
He said he would do so and very soon Lizzie was outside and making her way along the deck to the rear of the boat. She moved cautiously because of the crutches, but already she was able to rest the toe of her injured foot on the ground to give her a bit more stability, and hoped that in a few days she would be able to abandon the crutches and be really useful once more.
Priddy greeted her warmly and very soon the two of them were comfortably settled, taking turns to steer the boat. It was not a difficult job, provided one kept one’s mind on the work. Presently, Lizzie remarked that when she had fed the hens earlier she
had found two eggs in the straw and had taken them into the cabin. ‘The trouble with feeding the hens is that it reminds me of Sausage and Mash, and that makes me think of poor Aunt Annie and how she loved them,’ she admitted. ‘I dare not think what Uncle Perce may have done to those hens without either me or Annie to protect them . . .’
‘Likely they’ll be all right,’ Priddy said comfortably. ‘That uncle of your’n is going to have other things on his mind than hens. After what he done to his wife he’ll likely be on the run, and no one runs wi’ a couple of squawkin’ hens in their pockets.’
‘I expect you’re right,’ Lizzie said with a sigh. ‘But I’m goin’ to miss Aunt Annie most dreadfully, Priddy. You never met her, did you? She was one of the kindest people I ever knew, and she treated me like a daughter. If only . . .’
‘They say “if only” are the saddest words in the language but, meself, I think they’re the daftest,’ Priddy said with a sniff. ‘When a thing’s happened, it’s happened. It’s no use wishing it hadn’t. Now just you think positive, queen. There’ll be troubles ahead when we reach the Bingley Five Rise – that’s five locks – it’ll take the three of us all our time to get
The Liverpool Rose
and her butty boat safely through. I daresay the Trelawneys taught you to open and close the locks, but you weren’t on crutches then. I wish I could say Clem and me could manage between us, but to be honest, wi’ the two boats, it needs three pairs of hands.’
‘If that’s so, how will the Trelawneys cope?’ Lizzie asked curiously. ‘There’s only two of them to get
The Singing Lark
and her butty boat through all the locks between here and Leeds.’
‘I don’t say it isn’t possible,’ Priddy admitted.
‘Those two fellers were born and bred on the canal and they’re both strong as oxes. Why, in the old days, when Jake and I were in our full strength, we never thought twice about tackling the locks wi’ only the two of us, but now it’s different. I ain’t as spry as I was and Jake don’t have the strength. Then there’s climbin’ in an’ out o’ the locks to move the beam – me knees fair cripple me if I try to get out when it’s a steel ladder, and Jake ain’t much better. Clem’s been a godsend to us and I don’t mind who knows it. He’s that quick to pick up our ways . . . but I don’t need to tell you that because you’re another such. What’s more, you like canal life, don’t you?’
‘A good few shore folk try for work aboard the boats but very few of ’em last for more ‘an a trip or two. It’s hard and lonely, I guess. We don’t have no picture palaces, nor theatres, nor dance halls. There ain’t no department stores, nor big shops, and you can’t just pop round to a neighbour’s house to borrow a cup of sugar or have a bit of a chat, like. Washin’ a shirt’s simple enough in fine weather, but when it’s cold and rainy or snowy – like it is now – then you have either to put off launderin’ until the weather improves, or do the best you can in a little bowl of water on the cabin table. Then you’ll have wet washin’ draped round your fire for days until you could scream with the irritation of it. Why, even cookin’ a meal gets tedious when the weather’s bad so you have to keep the cabin doors closed or your fire will blow out. But Jake an’ me’s been happy as the day’s long on the boats, and I think Clem would tell you he’s the same.’
‘I haven’t been aboard a canal boat all that long, but I think it’s grand,’ Lizzie agreed contentedly, looking around her at the snowy landscape. ‘It’s so peaceful,
Priddy, and it must be such beautiful countryside when it isn’t all hidden by snow. I can’t imagine ever being bored on the canal because there’s so much to see and do. And so much to learn,’ she added, peering ahead. ‘What’s that across the water, Priddy? It looks like a bridge . . . oh, yes, it’s a swing bridge. Whose job is it to open that?’
‘Clem will open it and it’s quicker if one of us closes it after we’ve gone through. I’ll do it, bein’ as you’re on crutches and not so nimble as you were. There’s seven swing bridges ahead of us on this stretch, but none of ’em’s too bad and won’t hold us up. The locks at Bingley Five Rise is a different matter, though. You can’t hurry goin’ through a lock.’
‘Nor can the Trelawney brothers,’ Lizzie observed as they slid under the swing bridge and Priddy got stiffly to her feet. ‘Oh, I wish I could do it for you, Priddy, but by the time we come this way again, surely my ankle will be better!’
Despite Priddy’s words, the crew of
The Liverpool Rose
made pretty good time and were mooring up for the night in company with a couple of other boats, taking cargoes through to Leeds, when Clem remarked that the snow was beginning to thaw at last.
‘That’s good,’ Lizzie said absently. She, Clem and Brutus were taking Boxer to the stabling. The able-bodied ones were ambling along in the dusk while Lizzie swung beside them on her crutches. With every day that passed, she was becoming more expert with them, but as is always the way, her need for them diminished as her leg strengthened and soon, she thought hopefully, she would not need them at all.
‘The thaw will turn the towpath into a perishin’ bog,’ Clem observed, leading Boxer across the
cobbled yard and into one of the stalls reserved for boat owners’ horses. ‘I’ve never seen the canal this high before but the water level will even out – it always does. When you look up at those hills, there’s a devil of a lot of snow and it’ll all have to go somewhere.’
That evening, sitting cosily in the cabin, they heard the first drops of rain drumming on the roof. Lizzie thought it made the cabin even cosier to know that outside rain was falling while they were snug and warm in
The Liverpool Rose,
but Priddy soon disillusioned her. ‘Floods can be terrible things,’ she said, looking worried. ‘But we should be safe enough on the canal because the lock-keepers regulate the flow of water, opening the sluices to let the excess through so that a stretch of canal never – or almost never – floods. Of course it’s been known for a bank to burst.’ She turned to Jake, who was now sitting up in a chair most of the day. He was looking frail and Lizzie knew that Priddy was still worried about him. ‘Ain’t that so, Jake?’
‘Aye, Priddy, you’re right,’ he said. ‘There have been terrible troubles when a bank has burst – boats can be carried away and wrecked.’
‘That’s true,’ she agreed. ‘But it’s been a long time since a bank has gone. The bank rangers are proud of the way each one keeps his own stretch of canal in good condition’.
Because of Lizzie’s presence, they had opened up the small stern cabin for her use, shifting the various sacks and bundles to one end of the restricted accommodation so that she, her blanket and pillow and a small lantern, might occupy the remaining space. Lizzie, whose attitude to Brutus had changed dramatically since the incident in the sheep cave, had
begged to be allowed to have the dog in her cabin at nights. Though Clem had been agreeable, Brutus had made it clear he did not intend to leave his master’s side, so Lizzie barricaded herself in each night. Sleeping as soon as her head hit the pillow, she slept like a baby nightly, usually having to be roused by Clem in order to help Priddy get their breakfast.
On this particular night, however, she found she could not sleep. She could actually feel the water in the canal rising as
The Liverpool Rose
tugged and strained at her mooring ropes and was not surprised when someone banged on her cabin door and Clem’s voice said urgently: ‘Better get up, Lizzie, I can’t tell canal from towpath and the water’s running like a river. I reckon we need to wake Priddy and Jake. They’ll know best what to do.’
Lizzie joined him within moments, pulling on the wet weather gear which Priddy had lent her, and soon Priddy herself emerged from her cabin, though she would not let Jake come out into the windy darkness. ‘We can manage,’ she said briskly. ‘So long as we’re moored we’ll be safe enough, though someone will have to go ashore if there’s a danger of the ropes breakin’.’
All that night, the three of them took turns to check that the moorings were secure. Both before and behind them, other crews were also about, going on shore from time to time – if you could call it shore – to do the same. As dawn began to grey the eastern sky, Jake insisted upon leaving the cabin and brought them all mugs of steaming tea and enormous cheese sandwiches. ‘It’ll line your stomachs and warm you up,’ he said, handing over the food and drink. He turned to Priddy. ‘Do you think the worst is over? It’s stopped raining but there’s still a deal o’ snow to
melt.’ He glanced out across the expanse of water which had, the previous day, been the towpath and a snow-covered meadow. ‘I wonder if we ought to get movin’ again once it’s daylight? Only we’re on the downward run now and we’re liable to meet more floods, not fewer. What do you think, Priddy?’
‘I think you ought to get back in that cabin and stop worryin’ about what don’t concern you,’ she said severely. ‘You’re gettin’ better, Jake, but if you was to fall ill again, you could put us all in danger. As for movin’ on, I think we’re best where we are, for a bit at any rate.’
However, as daylight advanced, it was clear that remaining moored up to a towpath which was several inches underwater was beginning to get on Priddy’s nerves. She fretted that the Trelawneys might have pressed on regardless, and wondered aloud how Hal was faring in such appalling conditions, and presently she went to one of the other boats to discuss with its Number One the chances of moving on that day.
Clem and Lizzie, sitting glumly on the gunwhales and watching the water running down the sides of the hills until the little streams became more like rivers, felt equally frustrated. ‘After what those Trelawney brothers put you through, I don’t fancy seeing ’em get off scot-free,’ Clem observed. ‘Why, if it hadn’t been for them, you wouldn’t be needin’ those perishin’ crutches, and Jake would be out here with us, instead of cooped up in the cabin. And though Priddy doesn’t say much, I know she’s worried about him. He isn’t eating properly – he says he isn’t hungry because he’s not working – and sometimes you have to speak to him two or three times to get his attention. That knock on the head did more damage than he’ll admit, if you ask me.’
‘I know,’ Lizzie said at once. ‘Priddy won’t be satisfied until they’ve taken a look at him in the Infirmary. But Clem, how old
is
Jake? I suppose he’s getting on. They say the older you are, the harder it is to recover from a bad fall or a blow on the head, and he must be past sixty.’
‘I don’t know for sure, but I believe he’s in his mid-seventies,’ Clem admitted. ‘Though Paddy’s ten years younger.’
‘And they still work the canals and do as well or better than folk a lot younger,’ Lizzie said wonderingly.
‘It’s what they’ve been doing all their lives, they’re expert at it and know the best and easiest way around any problem,’ Clem explained. ‘But Paddy’s been talking about retiring just lately. They own a cottage close by the canal at Burscough and when the present tenant left, they didn’t relet. I daresay it was just talk, but this business is bound to make them think seriously about their future.’
‘What would you do, Clem, if Jake and Priddy did decide to retire and sold
The Liverpool Rose
and her butty boat,’ Lizzie said, almost shyly. She realised she could not imagine him wanting work ashore after the freedom of life on the canal, but you never knew. He might long to work on a farm or in a shop or factory, though this seemed unlikely. She had not known him long enough, nor did she know him well enough, to guess how he would react if life on the canal were no longer possible.
But Clem answered unhesitatingly. ‘Why, I’d either work for the company or for one of the bye-traders – that’s another way of saying a boat owner – and save up to buy my own boat in time,’ he said. ‘And that would be only the beginning. There’s cargo
vessels which ply regularly between Britain and Ireland. I might get a job aboard one and work my way up – take exams and that – until I were an officer. But most of all, I’d like to own a boat like the old
Rose
because that way you’re your own master yet you can have your wife and family around you so you’re never lonely. Look at Priddy and Jake. I don’t think they would exchange their life for any other, do you? Even if they retire, it’ll be to a cottage close to the canal where they’re amongst canal folk, with the water only a few feet from their door and a little boat so’s they can take a trip out whenever they’ve a mind.’
‘I guess you’re right, and I wish my life was so uncomplicated,’ Lizzie said with a sigh. ‘But what with Uncle Perce looking out for me so’s he can stop me telling what I know, and with no home to go to now Aunt Annie’s dead . . . and probably no job . . . it looks as though, when I get back to Liverpool, I’m going to have to start from scratch.’
‘Well, I’m sure you’re welcome to stay aboard
The Liverpool Rose
until you’ve got your life sorted out,’ Clem said, after a thoughtful pause. ‘I don’t know how we’d have managed without you, Lizzie, with Jake so poorly. And now you’re not scared of Brutus . . .’
At this point, he was interrupted. Priddy came out of the cabin and called to them across the top of the cargo. ‘We’re movin’ on, you two, so you’d best get Boxer down from his stable and tack him up. I talked it over with the Number One from
Kittiwake
and he’s pretty sure the towpath will be negotiable all the way to Leeds, even if we do have to wade through floods as we go lower. There’s no point in us sittin’ here when we’ve a cargo to unload so let’s gerra move on!’