Pennyroyal (8 page)

He began alerting Cassy to the named veins but she found it difficult to identify anything. It was all rock. She did spot the drill-holes made for blasting. They could be seen along almost all the way. They were grooves about eighteen inches long, blackened by the gun-powder fired to blast away the rock.

What did lead ore look like? She did not want to display her ignorance by asking such a basic question. She only knew about lead on roofs. She noticed that the workings that branched off the main canal were not flooded, each opening being above the water level. So the miners had worked in drained tunnels. Several times she thought she saw crystals sparkling on the rough rock face in the dimness.

“Now I know what Jonah felt like in the whale,” she said, hardly able to keep the elation out of her voice. “How far have we travelled?”

“Only a few hundred yards. This isn’t the
QE2.
If you look to your right you’ll see an alcove. That’s the bellows hole for ventilation. The early miners used to have a boy sitting there, working the bellows by hand. He was paid about sixpence a week in those days.”

Cassy shuddered involuntarily. She visualised a ghostly procession of thin, stunted lads wrapped in rags against the cold, stick-like arms pumping away, their only illumination a candle flickering on a ledge.

“Is the ventilation all right now?” she ventured anxiously.

“Now she asks!” Albert’s chuckle was reassuring.

“The fresh air comes in the same way as the water,” said Jake. “These hills are limestone so there are no surface streams. The rainfall drains off into a series of swallets then the water percolates into underground streams. There are masses of cracks and holes bringing in air.”

“Is this an underground stream?”

“Yes, but not a natural one. The water has been diverted. They built a dam and a bung hole. And the overflow escapes by way of a waterfall.”

“The waterfall is a splendid sight, miss. But it’s a hard trek to see it. Takes an experienced pot-holer to get there.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Many times, when I was a young man.”

“I think I’ll take your word for it,” said Cassy.

“The water is gradually eroding all the rock caves in Derbyshire,” said Jake. “The whole area is being lowered.”

Cassy knew he was teasing her. It was a pleasant sensation. “I thought I felt it go down a bit then.”

“At the rate of about seven centimetres every thousand years.”

Cassy affected an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. We’ll manage to get out in time.”

A colder current of air feathered her face. It was a different feeling, coming from somewhere farther ahead, deeper into the mine. Jake was occupied so she said nothing. She had visions of outflows and waterfalls ahead. But he must know what they were doing, where they were going. He probably would not welcome a vague remark about a change of air movement.

“We are getting near Dove Hole Cavern,” said Jake, answering her unspoken question. “You won’t see it yet but you can probably feel the draught from the down shafts in the roof.”

Cassy could see nothing but had a strong feeling that they were approaching an area that was vastly different. She had coped with the subterranean boat trip with flying colours, but what would be demanded of her now?

“Steady now. Keep still while I hitch the dinghy.”

“There should be a ring embedded in the wall on your right,” said Albert.

Cassy felt the dinghy bump against a stone platform. She had an impression of dark space expanding into unseen reaches. Jake squeezed past her and clambered up on to the platform, rope in hand, to search for the ring. He grunted as he tied the rope securely and then held out a hand to help her disembark.

“Mind your head.”

It was not easy. She bent to avoid a low jutting edge, then still crouching, crawled up and out onto the platform.

Once there, she was able to stretch up to her normal height.

“Where are we?” she shivered.

“Dove Hole Cavern. Don’t move. Wait until I’ve fixed the lights. We don’t want you falling down the Hole. I don’t fancy going for a swim.”

Cassy was aware that she was in some vast shadowy space but how large she had no idea until suddenly the wall lights flicked on like bright stars. She let out a gasp. They were standing inside a huge rock cavern, its roof curving way up and soaring out of sight like a cathedral. The platform was quite small, about twelve yards square, but then she noticed on the opposite side another canal, not lit, which was obviously a continuation of the main canal they had just travelled. Then she realised that on the farthest side there was a great yawning gap where the wall of rock just disappeared and fell away into nothingness.

“That’s Dove Hole,” said Jake. “Come and have a look. But be careful. I think part of the railing has collapsed.”

She held on to his arm. There was no way she was going to look over without some firm anchorage. She peered into the murky depths, vaguely seeing the steeply shelving sides and somewhere far below the inky sheen of a still lake.

“How far down is it?”

“About seventy feet. But they say the lake is bottomless. Some divers went down once but they didn’t establish an exact depth. It was twenty to thirty feet in some places, with the water filtering away through rocks. Then in other areas they said there was no floor at all.”

“Why do they call it Dove Hole Cavern?” she asked.

“They used to let birds loose here, mainly pigeons, ringed, and see if they managed to get home. I suppose one day they brought doves down.”

“There’s two species of pigeons that are called doves,” said Cassy. “Stock doves and rock doves. The rock dove in particular likes rocks and cliffs.”

“How do you know that?

“My grandfather told me.” She imagined the birds flying round the roof of the cave. “And did the birds return home?”

“I’m sure they did. There are lots of ways out.”

They heard Albert pushing the dinghy off on its return journey. “I’ll be fetching another load,” he called back.

Jake turned her away from the Hole and steered her towards the back of the cavern.

“In the Eighteenth Century the miners worked a rake right up there, above the platform. You can just see what’s left of the wooden ladder. See that overhang? I wonder what’s beyond that?”

“You’re not going up there, are you?” Cassy asked, noting the broken remains of the crude ladder high up in the rock wall. “It looks dangerous.”

“Only if I bring my own ladder,” said Jake. “I’ve some climbing tackle.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” said Cassy quickly. “The survey doesn’t have to include everything.”

“I’ll decide what’s necessary. You want a full survey and that’s what you’ll get. By the way, this morning is your only sightseeing trip down the Pennyroyal. From now on Albert and I work alone and we’ve a lot to do.”

Cassy did not argue. There was little point in staying down the Pennyroyal while the real surveying work was in progress. She would only get in the way.

She was just about to voice her agreement when suddenly the cavern was plunged into darkness. Cassy froze. Jake stumbled and swore.

“Damn. I thought it was too good to be true, working after all these years. Stay there, Cassy. I’m going to have a look at the junction box on the wall.” There were more oaths as he fumbled about in the dark. “Can’t see a thing. Have you got a lighter?”

“No, I don’t smoke,” she said in a small voice.

The blackness was intense. She had never experienced such a total eclipse of light and this was more frightening than the journey underground. This must be what it is like to blind, she thought, staring into the inky black void.

“Let’s hope the portable generator is in this lot.” She heard Jake moving carefully to the equipment which Albert had unloaded on the side of the platform. “No, it’s not here. The lights along the main canal are out too. We’ll just have to wait until Albert returns with the generator.”

“Will he be able to find his way back to the steps?” Cassy asked anxiously.

“I think the traffic will let him through.”

Cassy realised the stupidity of her question the moment she asked it. Of course Albert would be able to find his way along, more slowly in the dark, pushing against the walls until he reached the steps. He had to climb the steps, maybe also in the dark, then either bring some other form of lighting to them, or manhandle the portable generator down. Whatever he did, it was going to be a long wait and the coldness was already seeping through the thin soles of her sneakers. She bent down and wrapped the ends of the waterproof trousers under her feet. It was marginally warmer.

“Where’s your lamp?” Jake asked, his voice echoing slightly as he moved away to another part of the platform.

“What lamp?”

“The one I asked you to hold at the front of the dinghy.”

Cassy’s heart fell. Now she would deserve whatever Jake cared to say about her. She was a fool. She had left it in the dinghy, putting it down when Jake held out his hand to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You left it behind.”

“Yes…but at least it’ll help Albert find his way up the steps if the lighting has gone there too.”

She heard a short chuckle. “Well, how about some coffee, Cassy? I trust you didn’t leave that for Albert too?”

“It’s in my rucksack. Here.”

“Where the hell is here? No, don’t move. I’ll find you. As far as I can remember you’re near the back wall.”

Cassy jumped as his hand touched her. For a moment she leaned against the wall of his body, thankful to have another human being warm and strong near her.

“I think we should sit down and have a party,” said Jake. “The atmosphere is perfect.”

“A p-party? You’re crazy.”

“No disco and no martinis, but the subdued lighting is great.” He brought over some polythene wrapping and spread it on the stone. Cassy lowered herself gingerly. It was hard but less tiring than standing. Jake settled himself beside her, shifting his back against the rock till he found a bearable position. He put his arm round her and pulled her to him.

“Nice perfume,” he murmured, his face in a tangle of her hair. “Is that Mandala? And which design symbolises your universe, Cassy?”

Cassy was surprised. She had not expected Jake to know the obscure word. “When did you study Hindu art?” she asked.

“A long time ago…when I was a lot wiser.”

The roughness of his chin grazed her smooth forehead. She tried to resist the pull of his masculinity, but a helplessness was sweeping over her. She did not want him to be gentle and kind. It was easier to be cool when he was arrogant and difficult.

He was touching her ear, tracing its curve with the tip of his finger. She knew it was insanity, but Cassy had no power to stop herself turning to him, her lips parted. He found her mouth in the darkness and sweetly and eagerly she gave him the kisses he wanted. No one had ever made her feel so good and that was the only pulsing thought that mattered. Everything else was blotted out…there was only Jake and his closeness and her hunger for him.

Chapter Five

Cassy spent the afternoon with Amy Hadlow, enjoying the elderly housekeeper’s reminiscences. Grandmother died soon after Alician was born so she was only a stiff and shadowy figure in old photographs who meant little to Cassy. It was sad because Cassy had inherited her name from her grandmother and many times Grandfather had brought that fact to her attention.

“Now you remember that, young Cassy,” he used to say. “Your name is very special and one day I’ll tell you about it.”

But he never did. And now it was too late.

“It all came as such a surprise,” Cassy was telling Mrs. Hadlow. “I never even knew that grandfather owned a mine. It was the first I’d heard about it when Mr. Martlake told me Grandfather had left it to me.”

“I guess your grandfather had no need to mention it. The mine had been closed for many years. He had other far more interesting things to talk about to a little girl.”

“I remember he was always telling me stories about Derbyshire or describing the different rocks and fossils. I guess I was lucky to have a grandfather who liked me to come and stay. It was nice, of course, being with my parents in New Guinea,” Cassy added quickly, “but I hated the long flight and I was usually sick there. The climate was awful.”

Mrs. Hadlow sniffed with disapproval. “It was a terrible place to take a child, right in the middle of a jungle. Your parents were both wonderful people, fighting disease and suffering, but it was no place to bring up a child.”

Mrs. Hadlow did not say more, but she remembered how upset Thomas Ridgeway had been when his daughter had become engaged to a missionary doctor and a foreigner at that, and elected to spend her life with him caring for starving people in deprived countries around the world.

At least Cassy had been sent back to England as soon as she was old enough to go to boarding school, and she had spent many happy years in a peaceful Surrey valley looked after by teaching nuns who really cared for their small pupils.

“Mrs. Hadlow, it puzzles me,” Cassy went on. “Do you know why Grandfather left me the Pennyroyal?”