Sally Part 3 Have you read parts 1 and 2

Sally Part 3

Have you all ready read Sally parts 1 and 2

 

As her mother left the bed and the bitter cold air wafted under the rags that her mother called sheets, ten year old Sally shivered as the words.

“Come on girl, the whistles blown.” Was followed by a punch on her shoulder to make sure she was awake.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she let her feet, being careful not to touch the icy stones of the flag floor search to find her clogs. Shivering and groping over the bed she found the old sack she called her shawl, and pulled it up over her head and around her shoulders.

 “Yes I know we’re both cold, but it will be warmer once we get down the pit, so come on.” There was a flash in the darkness followed by another, before the tinder caught fire and her mother put a light to the cheap tallow candle.

Pulling her shawl around her shoulders, her mother thrust a slice of stale bread and a small brass box that had once been her brother’s into Sally’s hands. Sally didn’t need to ask, she knew what was in it. The same as yesterday, and all the previous yesterdays since her father and brother had been killed in the mine, and her mother had asked for work.

Her mother had been lucky; Squire Tamworth had allowed her to take her father’s job, or rather the work of the boy who had taken his job. Now her mother pulled a tub laden with coal to the bucket. Sally at ten, sat in the dark, opening and closing the trap for the tubs full of coal to pass through. One of which would be pulled by her mother.  

Her mother gave a quick look around, before picking up the remaining brass box. Pulling her shawl close she pushed Sally out of the door, before blowing on the candle she followed her.

Out on the frozen mud of the street, Sally stumbled after her mother as she forced the stale bread down.

Mr Jones, with his twisted leg fell in beside them, wincing, coughing and wheezing as he limped along saying.

“Will yon be in church early tomorrow? I hear tells the Squire will be there handing out his packages again.” His breathing was always bad. Sally knew it was the coal dust in his lungs, but this morning, and with the cold Sally had to listen with her inner ear just to understand the words he was trying to say. Her mother, knowing from the few words she heard what he was probably asking replied with a nod, as two more joined their party.

Sally trudged on in silence, but her mind was in a whirl. Last year it had been a whole silver shilling for every worker at the mine over twenty-one; three pence for every worker over twelve, and even the door pullers had got a penny.

The last year her father and brother had worked, it had been two shillings. That to her father as a pick man had been half of another week’s wage. Now would her mother pulling the tubs get sixpence tomorrow? Silent and hopeful, Sally trudged along as more of the village joined them.

Mr Williams, and his son just this day twelve, but long and gangling matched his steps with Sally as he asked.

“Will you be at school next year?” Bert’s words echoed in Sally’s head, Squire Tamworth, she had heard people say was an enlightened man. Treating his workers well, insisting all children on his estate and in his employ, attended school one day a week from the age of eleven, until they were fourteen and could do a man’s work. Sally would be eleven in January. The question drew a nod from her mother as she told him.

“Yes Bert, it’s already been arranged. Sally will start after Christmas.” Once again the words echoed in Sally’s mind, school. How she wanted to go. To be able to read and to write, but the whole idea of school terrified her. Lots of people, children all together, the noise would be terrifying. People talking, noise, yes she could block her outside ears, put her hands over them, but her inner ears. She stumbled, almost losing a clog as they turned towards the open gates.

.

A small crowd greeted them as they approached the mine gates. Heavy iron and imposing they stood open, open to let them in, and then to let the workers out. People were talking. Tomorrow was Christmas day, and talk of what would happen at church filled the air, only to fall silent as the gates accepted them. The ordinary voices faded to silence as they made their way the last yards to the mine office, but Sally could still hear the voices whispering in her inner ear. Mr Williams wondering, what would his son get? While Bert his son was thinking the same. Old Mrs Taylor thinking of how much a shilling would buy, that was if she and her husband got six pence each.

Bunched together at the office, the cacophony assaulting her ears faded as they watched sixty men being counted out.

Then it was their turn, sixty there were to be counted in, and every one hoped that there would be sixty counted out.

Old Martin, too old to work but able to read and write did the counting, carefully putting down the name and a number for each person as they passed his little window.

Then it was on to the mine, first down were the men with their picks and shovels. These were the men with light, they had the candles. Then it was the clearers and pullers. Sally’s mother gave her a last quick hug before joining them in the bucket.

Now there were just seven, seven children to work the doors. Seven children who would climb into the bucket, seven children who would spend twelve hours sitting in the dark listening to the creak of timbers. Seven children who would spend twelve hours sitting in the dark listening for the sound of empty carts returning, and for Sally to remember the sound of the dying in the old collapsed tunnels of the first mine.

The bucket fell, Sally closed her eyes as there was nothing to see, now only the voices in her inner ears. Standing in the bucket, it was just the six children whispering in her head as they fell the sixty feet to the pit bottom.

Climbing out of the bucket, they started in the dark feeling their way towards the face. But first they reached the one place Sally hated passing, the bricked up part that had been the tunnel to the old mine. Somewhere in there she knew was her father and brother. Lying cold and unreachable, buried in the dark of the mine.

With the bricked up tunnel behind them, they made their way into the blackness. Encased in the dark they felt their way, coming first to door one, where they left Dick sitting in the dark. Door two, a pause before little Mary was also left in the dark. Door three and door four passed. And now there was door five, her door. Sally felt her way around to the ledge she could sit on, her hand feeling for the rope pull that would open the door.

There was a soft scraping as she pulled the rope and the door opened to let Peter and John through. As they crept further through the tunnel towards the face, the voices in her inner ear faded to join the others as a quiet whisper.

Now sitting alone in the dark, there was only the soft whisper of voices from the pit and the village. Whispers not quite drowned by the sound of creaking timbers, and water dripping.

Sally sat in the silence, the beautiful silence waiting to hear the grating noise of the full carts being pulled through the tunnel, or the muted rumble of empty ones returning.

Sitting alone in the silent dark was peaceful. Now it was only the thoughts that were always with her. ‘Why was she different? Why had it all started when the roof fell in on her father and brother? Why had it started with the voices of the trapped miners calling out for help. At first hopeful and then fearful and desperate.

Sixteen men trapped, falling silent one by one as they waited in the dark for the help that never came. And now, voices, the whole village shouting at her. Every thought, every word, every event. 

Sitting alone in the peace and quiet, the dark embraced her. Down deep in the earth the voices in her head were just a whisper. In the dark and with just her thoughts loud in her mind there was peace. With her eyes closed, she sat waiting for the first laden cart.

There was a faint bang of a door closing. Sally waited, listening for the thoughts of Mrs Williams to grow stronger as she neared. There was worry, lots of it, but Sally knew it would soon fade once Mrs Williams passed her, but there would be others, others to disturb the quiet comfortable dark.

‘The rope,’ Sally’s hand reached out searching for it. She had to time it just right. Open the door too early, and the air flow would pick up coal dust and that was dangerous. They said that was what had caused. Her mind pulled away from that thought, memories were painful. Her hand found the knot and tightened around it. ‘Wait for the noise of the cart, don’t listen to Mrs Williams.’ She told herself as the thoughts in her head grew louder.

A scraping of wooden runners on the tunnel floor grew louder. ‘Get it right, wait for that softer sound…..Now.’

Sally pulled on the rope as Mrs Williams head scarf knot touched the door. Mrs Williams never slowing as leaning against the harness she murmured something Sally’s ears didn’t catch, but in her mind. “I don’t know how you do that Sally; I just wish the others were as quick.” Oh so loud in her mind, the words made Sally wince. Sally let the door close, and as the sounds faded and silence returned she could relax and drift into her inner self.

‘Why was she different? Why had she changed with the accident? Why wouldn’t the words come?’ Sitting in the dark she tried, her mouth opened, her lips formed them, but the words wouldn’t come.

Her mother was next with the second tub; she was early. It should have been young Johnny Brown. A hand reached out to touch hers as her mother came through the door, just a touch. You didn’t stop once you had a tub moving, it was hard work getting one started again.

Her mother didn’t speak there was no need, but Sally could hear her under words, words that were buried deep within her mind, despair. Pain, pulling the cart hurt, and it grew worse each day. Her back, wrist, knees and ankles, all of them were getting stiffer and more painful every week.

The shift was over, the men with their picks and shovels had passed, and now Sally waited for Peter and John, strong in their thoughts as they came closer, with both excitedly talking about the Christmas coins.

They went in reverse order to be counted in at the bucket, seven of them and the counter or it wouldn’t lift. At the top her mother was waiting to help her out of the bucket, tired and sore but excited. Fifty tubs she had pulled this week, it had been a record, the thought coming strong and excited to her inner ears, but feeling her mothers pain as she was lifted out brought tears to her eyes.

Sally already knew the week had been a record week, and she could hear old Martin and Squire Tamworth adding up the extra payment for each man. Six pence for her mother, she waited. A penny for the doors, she would get an extra penny.

It had been a queue at the shop with all the workers wanting to spend their extra payment. Her mother had bought some bacon and two eggs along with the potatoes and small loaf of bread. “Real fresh bread for Christmas,” she had said.

Now standing with the other children at the back of the church, her inner ears deafened by the congregation Sally wanted nothing more than to run, but the word was that the mine had done extra well that year, and Squire Tamworth was going to give something to every man woman and child in the congregation, now Sally gritted her teeth and endured.   

With the service over Squire Tamworth stood in the porch along with the Vicar and old Martin, who would call out the names and tell Squire Tamworth their post…. and a stranger.

Sally had always thought Lady Tamworth had been beautiful, and their two daughters with their beautiful clothes had always taken her breath away, but the stranger.  Over tall for a woman and very smartly dressed in blue. Quite young, in fact she was the most beautiful woman Sally had ever seen, and she was standing with the Squire and Vicar.

Sally couldn’t take her eyes from that exquisite face as the line of people grew slowly shorter. At last it was her mother’s turn to hold out her hand. Now with a hand that trembled, it was Sally’s turn.

“Another one so young to be working in the mine, tell me Harold, just what is her position with you?”

Sally almost dropped the two coppers that fell into her hand. Sally had been so engrossed with the woman that she hadn’t realised that the woman was silent. The question had been heard….heard with only her outer ears.

Sally couldn’t help it; she had to look back as her mother pulled her away for the next woman, while in her mind she heard the Squire saying.

“I believe she is a door girl, her father and brother were killed last year, and I understand she took it very hard. They say she hasn’t spoken since.” The strangers reply was unheard, but it echoed in the Squire’s mind.

“A door girl; and just what is a door girl?”

“She is one of the younger children who open and close the ventilation doors below ground; that is so as to keep a steady flow of air through the tunnel.”

What else that could have been said was lost as her mother pulled her away, and another man took his coins.

As Sally and her mother left the church yard, she glanced back to see the woman gazing after her with a puzzled frown clearly visible.