The Rope Carrier (7 page)

As the first signs of dawn came creeping through the tiny oiled-paper window, Minnie crept from the bed, carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping woman with the thin, gaunt face wrapped closely in a night-cap. Gentle snoring made the tip of her nose quiver. Minnie shuddered. She'd rather snuggle in with Josh and Netty, but that wouldn't be allowed.

She crept over to their corner and stood quietly watching them in their sleep. The faint light turned their faces grey and Minnie could see that Netty, restless in her bed, had grown thin despite her swollen belly. She'd gained fine lines around her eyes and mouth, reminding Minnie, with a sudden catch of her breath, of their mother. She bent forward to examine Josh and smiled, for the peacefulness of sleep made him look young, as young as she'd ever seen him look. She had no need to worry about him.

She moved quietly towards the children and almost laughed to see the two boys curled together, the older one's arm flung protectively across his brother. But when she turned to look at the girl, she knew at once that this was where she'd prefer to sleep, though the small box-bed that Josh had built into the wall could never hold her as well.

This child was Marianne. This was the little one that they'd passed from knee to knee round Annie's cooking pot nearly six years ago when Netty had brought her baby to the cave. Minnie felt as though she was looking down on herself, but a good few years past. The brown curly hair spread wildly across the pillow was like her own, and there was something familiar about the faint smell that hung over the child. What was it? Minnie bent closer. It was the doll that Marianne clutched, warm with sleep; a strange doll. Minnie touched it carefully, so as not to waken the little girl. She smiled: a doll made of rope. The face was a flat coil which someone had stitched neatly together and the hair, another piece of rope stitched across the
top and frayed at either end so that twisty rope curls hung down on either side of the blank face. The arms and legs were short pieces of rope, knotted at the ends for hands and feet. A tiny blue smock, made from the Dame's strong cotton pinafore stuff, covered the body, and the whole smelt gently of raw hemp and her father's size trough.

A creaking of the bed behind her made Minnie turn, to find Josh's mother dressing, fast and quietly, but keeping a sharp eye on her.

“Well,” she said in a hissing whisper. “At least tha seems to be an early riser. Dress thee'sen and follow me down, and don't tha make a sound.”

Minnie pulled a face at the retreating back, but did as she was told. She'd come here to help Netty but she was quick enough to see that pleasing the Dame was the best way she could do that. So she followed her downstairs to the one room that was living room and kitchen, where the old man lay in a bed beside the fire. The 'prentice boy had already risen from his straw pallet on the other side of the hearth.

Minnie did her best to follow the instructions that were given; to rake the ash and carry it out to the midden; to fetch the coke and sticks and work the bellows; to feed the hens that scratched in the yard, and carry the waste-bucket to the pigsty at the back.

The work was not more than had been expected of her at home in the cave, but her back and legs still ached from the travelling and her eyes drooped for lack of sleep. Josh's mother moved quick and efficient round her fireplace, and by the time Josh came yawning and stretching down the stairs, they'd got the fire going and everything clean and sorted, with porridge (just as good as Annie's, Minnie had to admit) steaming in bowls on the table.

“You see, Mother,” said Josh. “You'll find young Minnie a grand help.”

“Mebbe,” the Dame admitted, crisply, and went to feed her husband while Minnie and Josh sat down to their breakfast. Minnie turned her head away from the sight of the poor man who couldn't keep down the special thin porridge they'd made for him. He trembled and vomited while his wife fed him and wiped him patiently. How can she do that, Minnie wondered? How can she do that and then eat her own food? But Minnie saw that the Dame ate no breakfast herself, just set about washing the pots, tight-lipped as ever.

ONCE JOSH AND
the apprentice boy were fed and off to their work in the shed at the back, Netty came shivering down the stairs with the children. Josh's mother shooed her back again.

“Here's tha chance to get thee'sen right and rested. Take it, Netty, for it seems that tha sister is some use after all.” She sniffed towards Minnie, not looking at her, and bustled the children along for their breakfast. Netty smiled her thanks to Minnie, then turned shakily back to her bed.

After they'd seen the children fed and dressed, Minnie crept out to the workshed at the back, wishing to see for herself what caused the nicker peckers' tapping. She found Josh hunched over a wooden cutting stock. He swung a heavy hammer up and down, hitting a fat, wedge-shaped chisel that he held with his left hand. Minnie moved forwards and screwed up her eyes to see better. The file was fixed to leather straps, with stirrups that hung down the side of the cutting stock. Josh had his feet hooked into the stirrups. As he pressed down on one side with his foot, the file moved along, so slightly. Each cut from the chisel fell fast and neat into the right place . . .
tap, tap, tapping
at each hammer fall.

The 'prentice boy was busy scouring the cut files with sand and dirty water. He stopped when he saw Minnie and grinned.

Josh, too, paused in his work.

“Now then, little sister. I cannot stop my work to tease you, for we're owing money all round.”

“I never thought tha could work so fast, Josh. The hammer
hits at that chisel so fast, it fair makes me dizzy to watch.”

“Away with thee, lass, and see if tha can please my mother. She fears that tha's but another mouth for us to feed.”

Minnie heard a sharp tutting noise, and turned to see that Dame Eyre had followed her, with the children.

“Fetch the yokes, Jack, and take Minnie up to the well. Seeing as you're both going, you can fetch double the load. And take good notice of the way, girl, for you'll be making many a trip. If tha can do the job of fetching us water, then tha'll really be a help, and I shall be free to get some cutting done.”

Jack was a tall, fair-haired lad, about the same age as Minnie. He lifted down two wooden yokes, the sort they used in Castleton for carrying milk.

He swung them up onto his shoulder, looking at Minnie all the time in a way that she thought silly, and catching the edge of the table so that a jug and plates went skidding along. The children giggled and Dame Eyre raised her hand as though to clout his ear, but she just sighed and let her hand drop.

“Think what tha's doing, lad. Use thee eyes, can't tha. Now get those buckets will you, girl. On tha way and fetch the water as quick as you can.”

Still grinning and red in the face, Jack led the way out, up the street and round the corner, then up the hill to the well in the Ponds. Minnie followed him, cheerfully and briskly at first, then more slowly as they climbed the hill.

“Why come traipsing right up here to get the water when there's the river by the back door?”

“Eh?”

“Why not fetch the water from the river?”

Jack's eyes rolled up to the sky. “Tha must be mad. Has't seen river water? Them as drinks from t'river, them'll surely die.”

Minnie stared. “But I thought they lived close by the river on purpose.”

“Oh, aye, but for the work. I fetch up river water for making the brine, and for damping the sand to scour the files. Then there's the water that I mix with lime to get rid of the salt afore the files are oiled. That's all river water that is, then we tip all't muck and waste from it back in't river again.”

Minnie shuddered and trudged on beside him. She'd always taken for granted their river in the cave, bursting clear and clean from beneath the rocks.

“Here it is,” said Jack, tripping over his boots in his hurry to get there. “It's a good well this, grand water. Hey,” – he caught Minnie by the arm – “back here! No pushing t'front. They'll pull out tha hair if tha does that.”

“What?” Minnie looked at the queue. Old women, young women, young lads and children all queued and pushed, watching each other with suspicion. There must have been thirty folk, with buckets and pitchers and jugs, all waiting their turn.

“Not too long,” said Jack. “Usually worse than this.”

Minnie's shoulders drooped. “How often do we come?”

Jack laughed. “Not me now,
thee.
I'm just showing you t' way. Tha fetches it int' morning, then again int' evening, then sometimes at noon as well, depending on 'ow it goes and 'ow much you can carry. You'll be all right today 'cause we're fetching double.” He nodded his head at her, trying to please, but Minnie was not impressed. There were plenty of great gangling lads in the queue and a lot of little skinny ones, too. Why should others send their 'prentices to fetch the water, but not the Eyres?”

“I don't see why you shouldn't fetch the water,” she told him. “Look at some of these little lads that've come. They're all 'prentices, aren't they?”

“Oh, aye,” he said. “They're 'prentices of a kind.”

“What d'you mean ‘of a kind'?”

“Well, look at 'em. Starving little kids they are. It's not the
old 'prentice way, that. Not like Josh is with me. I knows when I'm lucky, though I do have to work hard. Only one 'prentice the Eyres have got, and that's me. Dame Eyre, she was my mam's friend, afore Mam went and died, and though she's strict wi'me, she keeps a good table, I got to say that.”

He slapped his tight, round belly to prove it, and Minnie turned away, disgusted. Behind her were two skinny boys, both with large buckets to fill. They were pushed from all directions by people around, but they hadn't the strength to shove back.

“What did you say? What about these starving little kids?”

“Huh. Who cares? You and me's all right at the Eyres'.” He nudged her elbow in a way Minnie thought far too familiar, but she let it pass for she wanted to know more.

“Where do they come from? Where's their mams and dads?”

“Pauper kids they are. Come from the country, or even from London, sent off as 'prentices by the parishes. Saves on the Poor Money, see. It's the new way of going on. They don't just take on a few 'prentices, they take loads of 'em and they keep 'em like animals and feed 'em less, but they teach 'em to turn out a lot of cheap goods. Make a lot of money like that.”

“Not files though. You can't make files like that. They'd just break, wouldn't they?”

“Who cares? They can make 'em so cheap, they'll sell anyway. It's only folk like Josh that's still struggling to do a proper job. I'm glad I'm not sharing my food with twenty more though, like them behind you.”

Minnie wondered if she could slip some of Dame Eyre's oatcake into her pockets next time she came.

It seemed a weary wait, but at last they got close to the front of the queue and Minnie pushed their bucket forward.

“Get back, Miss Push-to-Front,” said the fat woman before them. She had another bucket to fill and elbowed Minnie away, who fell back and trod on Jack's toe. A great commotion followed, for everyone lurched back onto their neighbour,
and grumbled at each other.

“Give us your hand, little lass.” A tall, thickset man who spoke slow held out his huge hand to Minnie. He pulled her to her feet.

“Leave her be, John,” the fat woman snapped at him. “Pick up tha buckets and follow me.”

The man turned and raised to his shoulders the most enormous pitcher that Minnie had seen. He followed the woman obediently, like a child.

“Come on then, get on with it. Our turn now.” Jack pushed the bucket into place, but Minnie turned to stare after the big man.

“That's John Bennet,” Jack said. “Take no notice of him. He's daft, he is. Dame Furniss's apprentice, so they call him. He must be all of twenty-five, he's been 'prenticed for ten year or more and still not made a journeyman.”

“He's strong,” said Minnie, “and he's no more daft than thee.”

Minnie spent the rest of the day running back and forth to Dame Eyre's orders, seeing to the children, carrying drinks to the sick man, cooking and cleaning, and keeping the fire going. At least she'd not been asked to make another visit to the well. By dusk she was fit to drop and ready for her bed, no matter whom she was to share it with. Josh's mother was pulling out the spinning wheel, moving it towards the fireside and asking her if she could spin a decent thread. Minnie was torn between weariness and fury at the insult of anyone asking her, a ropemaker's daughter, if she could spin, when they heard thumping and crying coming from upstairs.

“Never mind the spinning. Go up and help tha sister with that child. 'Tis Marianne again, she will not sleep. Both the lads settle down like lambs, but not that one. She's wearing Netty out again.”

Minnie went willingly upstairs; she'd rather tackle a naughty child than be starting to spin. She went over to the box-bed where Netty was sitting near to tears while Marianne swung her legs defiantly over the side.

“You get to bed, Netty. I'll see to this one.”

She snatched the rope doll from the astonished child's arms. Marianne at once set up a great wail.

Minnie held the doll up to Netty. “Is this father's rope?”

Netty nodded, unsure of Minnie's idea of help.

“Shut tha noise, Marianne, and I'll tell you where Rope Dolly came from.”

Marianne closed her mouth in surprise. “She's mine,” she said.

“Yours now, but I know where Rope Dolly used to live.”

“Where?”

“Lie down and cover yourself, and I will tell you all about it. That's it, snuggle down and close your eyes, then you will be able to see the great cave that Rope Dolly once lived in. A great cave with many rooms and tunnels that run deep into the earth. Once, many years ago, even before Rope Dolly was made, there was a young shepherd boy . . .”