The Willow Weaver, page 22
‘Shouldn’t they be in school?’ she asked, raising her voice to be heard above the machine.
‘Mind your own business, Priddle,’ Beer boomed, appearing beside her. ‘Those girls are grateful for the work, which seems more than can be said for you.’ He turned to Anne. ‘Right you, get upstairs and start on spinning frame one. The lass there will show you what to do.’
‘But Rosie only went upstairs a short time ago will she …’ Eliza began, only to receive another glare.
‘I’ll be back shortly to see how you’ve done.’
Eliza barely refrained from poking her tongue out as she began feeding the fleece through the willower. It was a simple job and watching the roller with metal teeth, creating a soft, fluffy mass of fibres, she began to feel like she was at last doing something worthwhile.
‘I thought I told you to get a move on.’
As the dreaded foreman bore down on her once more, Eliza stiffened. Couldn’t he leave her alone for more than ten minutes?
‘I said …’ but the rest of his sentence was drowned by a piercing shriek, so ear splitting it could be heard above the noise of the machinery.
Chapter 29
Slowly the machines on the floor above ground to a halt. As an ominous hush descended, the workers stared at each other in horror. Then, as one, they rushed towards the stairs.
‘Get back to your work,’ Beer blustered, before hurrying up them himself.
Although Eliza was desperate to know if the poor girl who’d screamed was alright, she knew arguing wouldn’t help matters. Turning back to the willower, she resumed feeding the fleece through it, looking up from time to time to see if anyone had discovered what had happened upstairs. After a short lull, there was a clunk and grating above them as the spinning machines started up again. Although the noise seemed even more deafening after the silence, she hoped it meant the poor person who’d screamed wasn’t badly hurt.
To her surprise and relief, the foreman didn’t reappear and she began to relax into the rhythm of the willower. When break time came and there was no jangling of the bell, they all shrugged and continued working. Stopping before it rang meant instant dismissal.
‘Poor Rose.’ She jumped as an ashen faced Joe appeared by her side. ‘I were upstairs unpacking me trolley when she got …’ Seeing Mrs Tucker heading briskly towards them, he stuttered to a halt.
‘You mean it was Rose who screamed? Is she alright?’ Overseer or not, Eliza needed to know, but Joe hastily bent down and busied himself replenishing the trolley.
‘How is Rose?’ Eliza burst out.
‘If you could come upstairs please Miss Priddle.’ It was a command and not a request and feeling sick and anxious, she followed the woman back up the stairs. All the machines appeared to be running, but the workers were looking shaken. Heads turned in her direction as Mrs Tucker led the way up the back steps and ushered her into Mr Grange’s office. The foreman, his face red, was shouting and thumping his fist on the table.
‘Wait outside Beer,’ the master ordered, cutting across his tirade.
‘But I told you, it was her fault …’ the foreman spat, jabbing his finger at Eliza.
‘I said outside.’ This time the command brooked no argument. With a final glower, the foreman, like a dog with its tail between its legs, slunk out of the door. Mr Grange, looking grim, gave Eliza a searching look.
‘You will have heard there was an incident with one of the machines this morning. The unfortunate operative,’ he stared down at the paper before him, ‘Rose Brice, got her hand caught when a thread broke.’
‘So, it was Rosie? How badly hurt is she?’ Eliza blurted out. The master glanced at his overseer before continuing.
‘Luckily, an engineer was on site and able to stop the machine before she lost it entirely,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘As it is, she has been dismissed and taken home.’
‘Dismissed,’ Eliza cried. ‘You mean you’ve sacked her for having an accident?’ she asked incredulously.
‘That is the procedure when such an incident occurs,’ Grange said, stressing the word incident. ‘She won’t be able to work the machine again for some while, if at all, and we’ve others waiting to take her place. This is a business, you know,’ he added, staring down at his desk. ‘And we did permit …’ again he consulted his paper, ‘Miss Jennifer Smith to accompany her.’
‘I know this is upsetting for you Miss Priddle,’ the overseer interjected, placing her hand on Eliza’s arm. ‘But, in the interest of our workers’ safety, it is vital we get to the bottom of things.’
‘Then, in the interest of safety, perhaps you can tell me why …’
‘It is my job to ask the questions, Miss Priddle,’ the master cut in, eyes as hard as flint as his head snapped up. ‘It is customary when a member of staff is moved onto a new machine, that our foreman, Mr Beer stays with that operative until he or she is conversant with its workings. In this case, I have been informed that although Miss Brice had only just started on the spinning frame, Mr Beer was downstairs on the grading and sorting floor, attending to what he refers to as your …’ Again, he glanced down at the paper before him. ‘Persistent protracted working, inattention and disregard for orders, which he claims was holding up production.’
‘That’s not true,’ Eliza replied, her eyes narrowing at such unfairness. ‘From the day I arrived, I have done everything Mr Beer has asked of me, despite him constantly singling me out for criticism.’
‘And why would that be?’ he asked, cold eyes scrutinizing her closely.
‘I wish I knew,’ Eliza sighed.
‘I think I might shed some light on that,’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘Mr Beer has been er, morose, since his wife left him. It is my belief, that Miss Priddle with her red hair and green eyes, reminds him in some way of her.’
‘Never heard anything so ludicrous,’ Grange sneered. ‘No decent man would ever permit a woman to influence either him or his work.’ It was patently obvious from his tone that he would never let a female affect him. Not that any decent woman would contemplate having anything to do with such a cold-hearted man.
‘But it’s Rosie we should be discussing. I must find out how she is,’ Eliza cried. The master stared at her, incredulous that his discourse should be interrupted, but Eliza was past caring. ‘I lodge with her aunt and was entrusted with her care. I need to find out how she is,’ Eliza repeated impatiently.
‘I think under the circumstances, we might let Miss Priddle leave early,’ Mrs Tucker ventured. ‘She clearly won’t be able to concentrate until she’s established just how badly injured Miss Brice is, and we don’t want to risk another acc— er, incident. Besides, anytime I have had occasion to be downstairs, Miss Priddle has been working diligently so …’ she shrugged, and let her words hang in the air.
‘Very well, Miss Priddle, you may take your leave. To show we are not the hard-hearted people you seem to think, provided you and Miss Smith are back at your machines at six o’clock in the morning sharp, your pay will not be docked for early departure. Tell Miss Brice, we wish her well for the future.’
Not sure whether to thank him or smack the self-righteous expression from his face, Eliza gave a curt nod and hurried from the room. Outside, the belligerent foreman sneered.
‘You’ll be down the road Missy. I saw you sucking up to the bosses, but they’ll not believe your word over mine.’ Intent on getting home as quickly as possible, Eliza ignored him and hurried outside. To her surprise, Peter was waiting.
‘I’ve just got back from seeing Rose home,’ he explained.
‘How is she?’ Eliza asked, impatient for news.
‘Her aunt has bandaged her hand and stemmed the blood as best she can, but it is badly crushed and of course, she’s in shock.’
‘Oh, poor Rosie,’ Eliza cried, trying not to shudder at the stains on his jacket.
‘I did offer to go for Dr Jarvis, but Flo refused. To be honest, I don’t think she can afford his fee,’ he added, lowering his voice.
‘But surely, the mill will pay for that. They more or less admitted it was their fault,’ Eliza told him.
‘But they won’t in public. Grange will have to report to Mr Wolfe, but you can be certain he will couch things in such a way the mill won’t be implicated.’
‘But that’s so unfair.’
‘Yet the way things are. I mentioned to Burrows, my boss, that those machines needed servicing a while back, but he told me in no uncertain terms, that it wasn’t my place to interfere. He even intimated I would lose my job if I did. Now, I feel terrible,’ he murmured.
‘It’s not your fault,’ she sighed, patting his arm. ‘But I must go and see how Rosie is.’
‘Let me know how she gets on, won’t you,’ he called after her but she was already hurrying up the hill.
Quickly unlatching the door and dashing into the cottage, the first thing that hit Eliza was the unnatural stillness. Where usually there’d be laughter and banter, there was silence. Finding nobody in the living room, she tore up the stairs. A harassed looking Flo was leaning over the bed, sponging Rosie’s brow. The scene was so reminiscent of her gramfer’s last illness, that Eliza froze in the doorway.
‘How is she?’ she murmured through the lump in her throat.
‘Not good,’ Flo whispered. ‘We’ve stemmed the blood but her temperature’s gone sky high. Eliza glanced at the stained sheets that had been used as bandages and grimaced.
‘I’ve brought more cold water,’ Jen said, appearing with a bowl in her hands. ‘You go and rest Flo, I’ll take over here.’ Flo shook her head but Jen turned to Eliza. ‘Take her downstairs and make her a hot drink. Try to get her to eat something, she’s almost out on her feet.’
‘Come on Flo, you need to keep your strength up or you’ll be no good to Rosie,’ Eliza urged, putting an arm around the woman’s trembling shoulders and leading her towards the stairs.
In the little kitchen, the fire was lit and the kettle set to boil. Seeing Flo shiver, Eliza gently pushed her down onto the chair and threw a shawl around her shoulders. Being the end of the week, they were down to reusing old tea leaves, and in an effort to make a strong brew, Eliza poured boiling water over the lot of them then stirred the pot vigorously.
‘Poor Rosie. What will I tell her mother? I promised to look after her,’ Flo sobbed, her pitiful cries filling the tiny room.
‘You’re not to blame Flo,’ Eliza assured her. ‘Now drink this while it’s hot,’ she said, placing a mug in the woman’s hand. ‘Are you sure we shouldn’t send for the doctor? I saw Peter and—’
‘No,’ Flo said, shaking her head vehemently. ‘I’ll just drink this and go back to her.’ But the woman had only managed a couple of sips before they heard Rosie cry out. Flo was on her feet and back up the stairs in a flash.
‘Them bleeding misers,’ Jen said, appearing moments later and flopping into the seat Flo had vacated. ‘If they weren’t so penny pinching and worried about their profit this never would have happened.’
‘Exactly what did happen?’ Eliza asked.
‘We’re not really sure,’ Jen admitted, letting out a long sigh. ‘Yarn snapped and when Rosie went to rethread it her hand got caught. She’s in a real bad way,’ she wailed, tears running down her cheek. Never having seen Jen without a smile or cryptic remark on her lips, Eliza was taken aback. But as she comforted the young woman, she felt her own tears welling.
‘If only there was something we could do,’ Jen cried.
‘Surely we should send for the doctor?’ Eliza asked.
‘And pay him with what, the buttons from our blouses?’
‘But we can worry about that later, when she’s better,’ Eliza insisted.
‘Jarvis knows the likes of us can’t afford his fee and insists on cash in his hand before he’ll turn out,’ Jen spat. ‘You should know it’s one rule for the toffs and one for us.’
Arms around each other, they lapsed into silence, the only sound coming from the occasional crackle as the burning sticks shifted in the grate. The evening wore slowly on, the room growing ever darker, but neither had the energy to move. Eliza was staring at the flickering patterns on the wall, fighting off the memories of that terrible night her gramfer had taken ill, when they heard Rosie cry out.
Rushing up the stairs, Eliza could feel the heat emanating from the small body as soon as she entered the room. Rosie was gibbering wildly as, despite her fever, she lay shivering. But it was the colour of her face that sent the prickle of alarm creeping down her back. As Flo stared helplessly, Eliza knew what she had to do. Pulling her bag out from under Jen’s bed, she snatched up her purse and Grammer’s amber comb.
‘I’m going for the doctor,’ she said.
‘But we can’t …’ Flo began.
‘We must,’ Eliza said firmly. ‘Come on Jen, show me where he lives.’
Chapter 30
‘But where did you get an expensive comb like that?’ Jen asked, the next morning as they made their way blearily to work.
Remembering the look of astonishment on her friend’s face when she’d offered it to the doctor in return for him visiting Rosie, Eliza couldn’t help giving a sad smile. Although she’d had an inkling the stones were worth something, she’d had no idea of its true value until she’d seen the reaction on Madam’s face that fateful day of the auction. The woman’s eyes had positively gleamed with greed when she’d seen it sparkling in Eliza’s hair.
Frost rimed the roofs and paths, silvering the branches of the trees along the leat while their feet marched in time to the summoning of the bell. Everywhere looked cold but beautiful, and it was hard to think that, only a few short hours ago, Rosie’s life had hung in the balance.
As Eliza sat in the kitchen with Jen the previous evening, all she’d been able to think of was her gramfer on the night he’d died. Would his life have been saved if she’d summoned the doctor? Reason told her that it probably wouldn’t have made any difference as age and infirmity were against him. But Rosie was young and healthy, and upstairs in Eliza’s bag lay the wherewithal to engage the services of Dr Jarvis. When the girl’s condition took a turn for the worse, she knew she had to act. And it appeared they’d only just been in time.
‘Well, hurry up spill the beans,’ Jen urged, but they’d reached the entrance to the mill and were inundated with enquiries about Rosie.
‘Tell you later,’ she called, as they rushed to clock on.
‘And how is Rosie today?’ the overseer enquired, pushing her way through the press of the crowd.
‘Improving but no thanks to you lot,’ Jen spat. ‘The doctor has disinfected and dressed her arm. He’s also given her powders to bring down the temperature.’
‘The doctor?’ Mrs Tucker echoed, her surprise evident.
‘The fever has broken and we are hopeful Rosie’s turned the corner,’ Eliza cut in quickly, anxious to avoid any awkward questions.
‘That’s good,’ the woman nodded. ‘Well, the bell has stopped ringing so off to your machine Jenny. Eliza come with me. We need to conclude yesterday’s conversation,’ she added, leading the way to a small room behind the cloakroom. Eliza’s head began to pound. She was exhausted after the events of the previous day and night, and had no desire to be questioned about how she’d bartered her grammer’s comb for the doctor’s services. However, Mrs Tucker smiled and gestured for her to take a chair.
‘Firstly, I can’t tell you how relieved I am about Rosie. She is a lovely young girl.’
‘Yes, she is very young and the young need guidance, don’t they?’ Eliza burst out, still reeling from the shock of finding out Rose hadn’t been supervised. Mrs Tucker looked at her with those beady eyes that seemed to see and understand at the same time.
‘They do,’ she agreed. ‘And such instruction has been given to the new foreman.’
‘You mean …?’ Eliza asked, her spirits rising.
‘Mr Beer has been dismissed and Mr Carter engaged in his place. He is a competent foreman, deployed from one of our other mills. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with him. From today, you will be working upstairs on the skein winder. I am sure you will find it a much nicer job and of course, your pay will be increased by another halfpenny a day. Any questions?’ Eliza looked at the woman wondering if she dared voice the thing that had been niggling her since her first day.
‘Well, Miss Priddle?’ The overseer’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, despite her words, she’d thought the interview over.
‘I don’t understand why such young children are employed here when surely, they should be at school.’
‘Your concern for the youngsters is commendable. However, the families of these children are poor and need every penny that can be earned. We here at the mill realize this, and also recognize that in order to get anywhere in life, boys need educating, at least in writing and arithmetic. That is why we pay for a gentleman to come in and tutor them after work three evenings a week. We are not the callous, unfeeling people you seem to think, Miss Priddle,’ she said with a tight smile.
‘But what about the girls? They need educating too,’ Eliza cried.
‘Of course. In the running of a home, which they receive from their mothers.’
‘But that’s archaic. Girls should learn their lessons too. Why back home I taught—’
‘If that is all?’ Mrs Tucker interrupted. Eliza hesitated then remembered the way Rose was suffering.
‘There is one more thing. I would like to ask about the servicing of the machines.’
‘Well don’t. You really cannot expect me to waste time listening to the views of someone who has no experience in these matters,’ she said, waving her away.
‘But …’ she began.
