Copper Kingdom Page 7

So that was how the land lay. Well, he would not give up easily, Dean told himself. He would convince Bea that she was better off with him than with this young pup who had nothing to offer but his youth and a decaying copper company.

  Chapter Six

  It was a dull morning when the light fell yellowish grey across the cobbles; heavy clouds swirled over the rooftops and the waters of the canal ran misty bronze.

  As Mali stepped out of the cottage, she clutched her shawl more closely round her shoulders and was thankful that she had worn long thick woollen stockings with her good boots buttoned up around her ankles, for the ground was cold underfoot.

  The door of the Murphy house swung open and light spilled out, seeming to carry with it the sound of the baby crying. Katie emerged rubbing her eyes sleepily, her mouth a dark circle in her pale face as she yawned hugely.

  ‘Sure an’ I’ll never get used to bein’ out this time o’ mornin’,’ she said, staring at Mali sourly. ‘I don’t know why you’re looking so pleased with yerself and you with eyes wide open as though it’s mid day instead of barely six o’clock.’

  ‘I’m excited,’ Mali explained. ‘There’s at least a dozen butterflies inside me whirling around, it’s my first job and I really am a working girl now.’

  They fell into step, side by side, Katie silent as she hugged her shawl around her thin shoulders. She was shivering a little, her clothing worn, the boots upon her feet shabby, lacking the attention of the polishing brush.

  ‘Sean’s about to cut a tooth,’ she said dourly. ‘Cried all night, so he did, I swear me dad will hammer the boy if he keeps us all awake again tonight.’

  Mali remained silent, she had heard the baby’s pitiful wails and even though she had put the pillow over her head the sound had been difficult to drown. And yet she had woken refreshed, this morning, giving Dad his breakfast, making up his grub and mixing sugar and tea in a twist of greaseproof paper, and a tin of milk so that he could make himself a brew. Some of the workers in the copper sheds drank beer to quench the terrible thirst that was caused by too much sweating but Davie liked his tea and for that Mali was thankful.

  ‘Saw your dad so I did.’ Katie spoke quickly as though reading Mali’s thoughts. ‘Out with some flossy he was, not that it’s any of my business.’

  Mali pursed her lips, torn between snapping at Katie and curiosity about the woman Dad was with.

  ‘Young piece was she?’ she asked at last. ‘Fur collar hanging round her neck and a hat that looks as if it’s been dragged through a hedge backwards?’

  Katie laughed. ‘That’s her all right. Flour all over her face, eyes as black as Hades, hanging on his arm so she was just as if she owned him.’

  ‘Rosa,’ Mali said angrily. ‘I thought Dad had finished with her. She’s only after one thing and that’s the shillings out of his pocket, the scheming hussy.’

  Katie looked at Mali with eyebrows raised. She was silent for so long that Mali looked in her direction.

  ‘Well, don’t you think I’m right then?’ she demanded and her friend shrugged.

  ‘I don’t know do I? But your dad is a fine-looking man, sure he’d make a good catch for one like her that’s been used to the streets even though he might be getting older.’

  Mali felt anger run through her, and clenched her hands into fists as though to strike out. ‘She won’t set foot inside our house again,’ she said fiercely. ‘Not while I’m living there with Dad, she won’t.’

  Katie caught her arm. ‘Never mind her,’ she said. ‘Sure an’ doesn’t your dad need a bit of fun like all men? I ’spect he’s got his head screwed on the right way and he’s just having his oats, as they say.’

  Mali would not be appeased. ‘It’s not right, mind,’ she said. ‘Not so soon after my mam’s funeral and to think he’d go to a woman of that sort, I could kill him for being so stupid.’

  Katie shrugged. ‘Sure an’ isn’t he just a man, they’re all like little babes at heart, needin’ a bit of lovin’ and fussin’, don’t mean much to them so it don’t, not always.’

  ‘Well I’d better not see them together,’ Mali said stiffly. ‘If I do there’ll be such a rumpus that Dad won’t forget it in a month of Sundays.’

  ‘I’m sorry I spoke, sure I am,’ Katie said impatiently. ‘Come on, we’re nearly there, look as if it’s hurryin’ you are, make a good impression on Big Mary for if you don’t you won’t last long in the Canal Street Laundry.’

  The large iron gates faced the canal and dripped rustily now with the rain that had fallen during the night. They were slightly open and Katie pushed Mali through into the yard. The smell of the laundry was like nothing Mali had ever experienced before, a mixture of cabbage water and stale urine and she wrinkled up her nose, pausing a moment to look at the rectangular buildings before her.

  Small windows stared down like blank eyes and on one wall, a rickety staircase meandered upwards towards a small door.

  ‘That’s the packing room.’ Katie followed the direction of Mali’s gaze, pointing to the top floor. ‘But I ’spect you will work the boilers first, need a bit of elbow grease for that so you do.’

  ‘I’m not afraid of work,’ Mali protested hotly. ‘What are the boilers like?’ she added uncertainly.

  ‘You’ll soon find out,’ Katie whispered. ‘For there’s Big Mary standing in the doorway waitin’ for us to go inside.’ She gave Mali a push and clattered away up the wooden staircase.

  ‘You Mali Llewelyn?’ Big Mary asked briskly. She stood with huge arms akimbo over her white-aproned, ample bosom. ‘Come on in then, won’t get no work done skulking around out there will you?’

  The interior of the boiler room was filled with steam and at first Mali could hardly see. She coughed a little and Big Mary propelled her forward over the slippery stone floor towards the end wall where monstrous boilers reared up, large and cylindrical, emitting ominous thunder-like noises.

  ‘You can start by fetching coal and keeping the fires going.’ Big Mary took a tongs and deftly opened a door at the front of one of the boilers. A rush of heat caught Mali’s face and she backed away spitting acrid specks of dust from her mouth.

  ‘There’s soft you are girl,’ Big Mary said, giving her a goodnatured push. ‘You don’t breathe in when you’re stoking the fire, keep your mouth shut, that’s if you can.’

  Gingerly, Mali edged forward again, watching as Big Mary placed egg-shaped pieces of coke on the flames. The heat was intense but the woman did not seem to notice it.

  ‘Here,’ she pushed a wedge of cardboard forward, ‘kneel on this, save your legs a bit.’

  She stood back and watched Mali’s inexpert attempts to place the coals within the boiler mouth.

  ‘That’s right, now close the door, watch it or you’ll burn your fingers, there, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ She folded her arms and waited for Mali to lift the copper scuttle and move on to the next boiler.

  ‘Right then, you carry on by here, merchi,’ she said approvingly. ‘I’ve got to do my rounds, see if everything is shipshape, but I’ll come back later, righto?’

  Mali felt quite alone in spite of the women working all around her. Big Mary had at least noticed her existence, now she felt as if she had suddenly become invisible. Kneeling on her pad of cardboard, she glanced around. Through the steam she could distinguish the figures of the washerwomen who moved ghostlike amid the haze, enveloped in huge white aprons. Occasionally, one of them would climb up a short flight of steps and open the lid of the boiler, poking the washing with a long stick as though attacking it.

  As her eyes became accustomed to the steam, Mali began to make out the shapes of long sinks almost like horse troughs, ranged along one wall. These were equipped with mangles fixed to one end, and resting in the soapy water were metal scrubbing boards over which the women laboured ceaselessly.

  Soon Mali’s back began to ache, her knees were sore and already she had a blister on her hand where she had inadvertently touched one of the boiler doo
rs. She felt as though she was on a treadmill for no sooner had she finished stoking the row of fires than she had to replenish her scuttle with coke and begin again. She began to work mindlessly, too tired even to think. The hours dragged by and Mali was almost dizzy with fatigue when she heard a hooter wail through the buildings.

  The women abruptly stopped work but still no one even so much as glanced Mali’s way. She sat back on her heels, brushing her hair from her hot face, staring round in bewilderment. At the far end of the room, near the doorway where the steam was thinnest, the women were crouching in a circle on the ground, opening packages of food, and the rise and fall of their voices drifted to where Mali knelt alone.

  Big Mary swept into the room, her eyes searching for and coming to rest upon Mali. She sailed forward like a ship charging through the waves and though Big Mary’s face was unsmiling, Mali no longer felt friendless.

  ‘Come on, merchi, it’s time for grub. There’s soft you are, mind, sitting by there and you with only fifteen minutes to eat your fill. Wash, quick girl, and follow me.’

  Mali ran the cold water over her hands, unable to remove anything except the surface dust, but she had no time to worry about the black caked in the creases of her palms, for Big Mary was already leaving the room, then leading the way up the rickety staircase.

  Mali found that she was now entering a different world, serried rows of washing hung on lines to dry, with the smaller linen draped over wooden clothes horses. Big Mary marched onwards and Mali found herself in the packing room where the scent of hot, clean linen drifted pleasantly towards her. Stacks of clean, neatly folded sheets were piled upon wooden trestles and over all there was an air of peace and tranquillity which Mali drank in greedily.

  ‘Is that you Mali Llewelyn?’ Katie smiled at her from the table at the centre of the room where the more privileged girls were gathered at a small table. ‘For sure you look like the divil himself you’re so black.’

  Mali sat beside Katie, aware that she was the object of scrutiny. Opposite her sat Big Mary and she was biting into a piece of brown bread.

  ‘Get chewing, merchi,’ she advised. ‘You’ve only ten minutes now.’

  Self-consciously, Mali drew the edges of her apron inward, attempting to hide the streaks of dirt, feeling foolish because she had not thought to bring food.

  At her side, Katie nudged her. ‘Here have a bite of my grub, you didn’t think to bring any did you?’

  Mali’s stomach had begun to turn over with hunger; she took a thick slice of bread and began to chew it eagerly.

  ‘Big Mary’s taken a liking to you sure she has,’ Katie whispered. ‘She’s only leavin’ you down in the boiler room until the regular girl gets back to work. Bring you up here with us then she will.’ Katie regarded Mali steadily. ‘But you have to prove yourself willin’, that’s Big Mary’s way, she helps those who helps themselves, like God.’ Katie crossed herself quickly, frightened at her own blasphemy.

  Mali ate in silence. She did not dare to hope that she might be relieved from the work of crawling round on her hands and knees feeding the coke ovens of the boilers and elevated to the job of packing clean linen. She was bone weary, almost ready to fall asleep, and the day was only half over. How could she bear to work until darkness fell when her whole body ached as though she had been kicked?

  The break was over almost before it had begun and the loud wail of the hooter bellowed through the building. Big Mary rose to her feet and as though worked by clockwork, the girls rose too and moved back to the tables where the long sheets waited to be folded.

  ‘Get off with you,’ Big Mary said to Mali. ‘You can find your own way back.’

  Katie gave Mali a gentle push. ‘Go on, don’t stand there like a lemon, see you at home time.’

  Mali carefully edged past the tables and returned through the drying room, eyes downcast as she faced the prospect of feeding the fires again. The stairs seemed to move beneath her feet as she descended them and then she was through the door and into the steam of the boiler room again.

  She began the round of opening doors and pushing coke into the flames and her heart began to pound with fear as she saw that one of the boilers was nearly out.

  ‘The washing’s stopped bubbling up here.’ A woman looked down at her from the top of the steps. ‘Didn’t you see to the fire before grub, girl?’

  Dumbly Mali shook her head and the woman came to crouch down beside her, staring into the open doorway with dismay.

  Amid the ashes was only a small flicker of life. The flame lapped blue and green over the remaining nodules of coke, fading almost into extinction even as Mali watched.

  ‘I’d better fetch more fuel,’ she said desperately and the woman standing looking down at her sighed in exasperation.

  ‘Well get on with it then for Gawd’s sake, there’s no good to be done by just staring at it like that.’ She mounted the steps at the side of the boiler and lifted the heavy lid.

  ‘See, there’s hardly any steam, the water will be cold if you don’t get a move on.’

  Mali took the scuttle and carried it to the store where the huge mounds of coke were kept. She worked frantically, only half filling the bucket-shaped vessel before hurrying back to the boiler room. A tall rough-looking woman wearing a man’s coat and cloth cap was standing near the boiler. She stared at Mali almost contemptuously, her chin poked forward.

  ‘Better hurry, girl.’ Her tone was menacing. ‘Cos I’m not as patient as Sarah ’ere and if my boiler goes down, you’ll feel the back of me hand.’

  Mali opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again, there was no point in wasting time arguing. She drew open the door of the boiler, scarcely feeling the heat on her fingertips, and looked desperately at the feeble embers of the fire.

  ‘That’s past savin’.’ The woman with the cap rummaged in her pocket and took out a small clay pipe, clamping it between her teeth before crossing her arms and settling herself down on her thin haunches to watch the spectacle.

  ‘Who’ll lay me a shillin’ bet that the girl don’t mend the fire?’ she said with relish. ‘That will teach Big Mary to put a silly young snippet in place of Doris.’

  ‘Be quiet, Aggie. There’ll be no giving or taking of bets, right? Why, Big Mary would have your guts for garters.’ Sarah pushed at Mali’s shoulder impatiently.

  ‘Build it up again, there’s a good girl,’ she said almost desperately. ‘I don’t want to stay here late tonight just because you’ve neglected your work. See I’ve got to get these sheets out by tonight. Stupid I call it putting a green girl to do a job like this.’ Her voice was rising, attracting the attention of the other women, and for a moment Mali felt panic sweep through her. She wanted to run from the laundry out into the street and follow the snaking line of the canal back to the safety of Copperman’s Row. She took a deep breath, telling herself to be calm, a simple job like mending a fire even if it was one that kept the huge boiler going was not about to defeat her.

  Mali looked around her, searching vainly for paper to thrust into the oven mouth; the only kindling she could find was the cardboard upon which she had been kneeling. Quickly, she tore it into small pieces and fed it into the dying flames. Smoke curled upwards in a thin spiral and Mali coughed a little. Behind her the woman was still complaining bitterly.

  ‘I’ll never get home to my husband tonight, have the broomhandle to me he will, he’ll be that grieved if I keep him waiting for his bit o’ supper.’

  Carefully Mali placed some pieces of coke on the small blaze. Her heart was thumping loudly in fear and she closed her eyes, praying the coals would take. She flapped her hands, fanning the flames and to her delight, the smoke dwindled and a swift roar told her the fire was well and truly ablaze.

  ‘Well we can thank our stars for small mercies I suppose.’ The woman sighed as though disappointed that the small drama was over. Mali rubbed her hands across he face, unaware that she was streaking her cheeks with coal dust.

 
; ‘What’s been going on here then?’ Big Mary was standing watching the little scene, her arms akimbo. ‘God almighty, Sarah, I thought you were giving birth the way you were carrying on.’ She moved forward, bending to peer into the furnace.

  ‘Nearly died on you, did it merchi?’ She brushed back a stray wisp of dark hair escaping from the tight bun at the back of her head. ‘Well don’t worry about it, it isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. Now for heaven’s sake let’s have a bit of peace here is it? Come on, Sarah, get back to work.’

  When the women had dispersed, Big Mary stared down at Mali.

  ‘You’d best be more careful next time, or things might not go too well for you. Some of the women are a bit more wild than Sarah, she just moans and groans and plays merry hell with her tongue, others might lash out with a fist first and ask questions later, so remember what I’ve said, mind.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Mali stared down at her dusty hands. ‘I won’t let it happen again.’ She moved to the adjoining boiler and Big Mary followed her, the glimmer of a smile warming her face.

  ‘Well there’s no need to feel as if you’ve stolen a baby’s bottle from out of its mouth, come on, it’s not such a bad job once you get used to it.’

  Mali watched her go with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was all very well for Big Mary, she didn’t have to work with women who either ignored or berated her. With a sigh, Mali knelt on the cold damp ground, unaware that her hair had come loose from its restraining ribbon and was falling over her face. All that concerned her now was to keep the boilers going at whatever cost to herself.

  The hours dragged wearily on and Mali’s back and legs began to ache with the constant bending. Her knees were rubbed raw beneath the thick wool of her stockings but she would not complain, she wanted a job at the laundry and she’d got it and she was determined to stick it out. Her mouth became dry, her lips caked with coal dust, and her eyes felt as though they were full of cinders. She moved now from instinct, feeding fire after fire, too weary to think.