The Chainmakers (41 page)

A few more buildings had gone too, she noticed. Most of them were the small forges run by individual families, many of the larger premises remained. As the car passed the chainshop where Clancy had worked she drew in her breath, almost expecting him to appear in the doorway and wave to her, as he had done so many times. She could see him now, striding up the bank in his working clothes, 'I thought I'd catch ye, so I did...'

'Is this far enough madam?' The driver asked.

'Er... yes. Pull up on the left and wait for me please.' Anna got out of the car and surveyed the scene. Apart from the loss of the smaller forges, not much had changed. She looked across to the chainshop where she had worked for Ma Higgins. It was the same as she remembered, but smaller somehow. On impulse Anna walked down the roughly cobbled road and picked her way across the waste ground to the chainshop. Inside, several women were hammering and striking, and suddenly it was as if she had never left.

The girl at the first hearth inside the door caught sight of Anna and stopped hammering to gawp. A stout middle aged woman approached and asked if she could help.

Anna stared at her. 'Maisie? Maisie Collins...?'

The woman eyed her suspiciously.

'It's me Maisie, Anna... Anna Gibson.'

She watched Maisie's expression change from suspicion to delight. 'Anna? Is it really yo'?'  Maisie turned to the other women, who had all stopped work to watch the encounter. ‘Look girls, this is Anna... Anna Gibson as was, ‘er who married an Irish lad an’ went off to America...’

The other women nodded their heads slightly and Anna smiled back. Maisie told them to get back to work and they did so, stealing an occasional glance at the well dressed stranger as they hammered. Anna and Maisie walked outside to talk.

‘Yo’ve done well fer yerself,’ Maisie said.

‘Yes Maisie, we have been very lucky in America. We had to work hard but we have done well.’

‘Ave yo’ come ‘ome fer good?’

‘No, just a visit, to see Will and the family.’

‘Arr, I ‘eard they ‘ad gone to live in the country, real gentlefolks now so they say.’

‘And you Maisie? What has happened here?’

Over the next few minutes Anna learned that old Betty Potts was dead, and Ma Higgins had retired some five years earlier. The chainshop now belonged to a man called John Sampson, who visited rarely and left the day to day running of the forge to Maisie, who was now in charge.

‘Oh Maisie, I’m so pleased. You were always a good worker,’ Anna said.

For some reason this appeared to anger Maisie. ‘Oh yes?’ she said acidly. ‘An’ ‘ow would yo’ know if I’m a good waerker? One of the bosses now are yer?’

‘Of course not Maisie, I only meant...’

‘I know what yo’ meant. Yo’ always was Miss Toffeenose, an’ now yo’ve turned into Lady Muck. Yo’ come ‘ere fer a look at what yo’ escaped from. Well now yo’ve ‘ad yer eyeful, bugger off!’

Anna stared at her in amazement, and decided to leave.

After only a few steps she turned back, saying, ‘Maisie, how much do the girls make now? In a week?’

Maisie eyed her narrowly. ‘It depends...’

‘I know, but how much in a good week?’

‘A good wik... can be as much as sixteen shillin’s ...’

Anna fished in her purse. ‘And how many girls are here?’

‘Eight, with me it’s nine...’

‘Here’s ten pounds,’ Anna said, holding out the money. ‘A pound for each girl and two for you. For old time’s sake Maisie,’ she added, as Maisie’s mouth dropped open. ‘I haven’t forgotten what an extra weeks pay can mean.’

‘But... it’s so much...’ Maisie said.

‘I can afford it,’ Anna said tartly. ‘As you say, I’m Lady Muck now.’ She turned to go. ‘If you don’t want my friendship perhaps you’ll take my money.’

Maisie caught her up halfway across the waste ground.

‘Anna... Anna I’m sorry. I dae mean it... about Lady Muck...’

Anna regarded her sadly. ‘Maisie, because I went to America and got lucky doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten my past.’

‘I know. I shouldn’t ‘ave said what I did. It was just... well... look at yo’ Anna, dressed up like a real bobby dazzler an’ look at me... these am the on’y shoes I got an’ they’m stuffed up wi’ cardboard. Yo’ got out Anna, yo’ ‘ad the chance, wi’ Clancy Sullivan. Not many of us got a bloke like ‘im.’

‘I know Maisie, I was lucky and I know it. Are we still friends?’

Maisie nodded. ‘The money, do yo’ mean it?’ She held it out in her hand. ‘All this?’

‘Yes.’ Anna laughed. ‘Tell them it’s from one of their own who went to America and got rich.’

On impulse she kissed Maisie and then made her way back across the waste ground to the road. As she turned into Dawkins Street she looked back, and Maisie waved.

Outside number twenty two Anna hesitated. She had intended to knock at the door, knowing that when she explained who she was the new tenant would certainly invite her inside for a look at her old home, and probably a cup of tea and a chat as well. Now she regarded the peeling paintwork and the dingy net curtain with sadness and a feeling of futility. Maisie had made her see there was no going back. Suddenly it all seemed irrelevant, the tiny terraced house, the chainshop, Sandley Heath itself... and High Cedars.

She turned and walked quickly back to the car, trying not to notice the few old wives who had come out onto their front doorsteps to look at her. She only allowed herself one slight detour to look at the tiny hovel Clancy and his mother had shared, so she could truthfully report to him she had seen it. Then she got into the car and gave the driver Will’s address.

As they left the grimy suburbs and turned towards the countryside, Anna relaxed. This was the England she had known on Sunday school outings and walks with Clancy, and she had forgotten how beautiful it was. Even the skies seemed to lift, and the sun shone weakly through small scudding clouds, as the car bowled along the leafy lanes bordered by banks heavy with the scent of yarrow and wild thyme.

Anna felt her excitement mount. ‘It’s on the road to Wombourn,’ she said to the driver.

‘Yes, I know where it is,’ he responded. ‘Very nice countryside out that way.’

Anna wondered suddenly whether Will and Mary had changed. It was clear she had changed herself, perhaps they would think she had become ‘Lady Muck’, like Maisie? Everyone must have changed over the years, she couldn’t expect otherwise. It was true Florence was the same, but Robert and Maisie... Robert was a dying wreck and Maisie had become embittered and cynical, and no wonder.

What a day it had been, Anna reflected, a day of surprises, and not all pleasant. She did not think she could cope with any more. If Will had changed... if dear, lovely dependable Will had changed she could not bear it. Her nervousness increased by the mile, and when the car eventually stopped she was reluctant to get out.

It was a square detached house, with five Georgian style windows and a porch over the central front door. There was a path bordered by colourful plants, and a small wooden gate.

The driver opened the car door. ‘You go on up madam, I’ll unload the luggage.’

Anna opened the gate nervously, and started up the path. She had only gone a few steps when the front door burst open and a young man came flying down the path towards her. He skidded to a stop a few feet in front of her, a huge grin on his face.

‘You’re my Aunt Anna,’ he said excitedly. ‘I can tell from your photograph, although you’re even better looking than I thought. I was watching from the window.’

Anna looked at him closely. ‘Andrew? You must be Andrew...’ It was heartbreaking to see him standing there, with such a look of Billy.

‘That’s me. May I give you a kiss Auntie?’

Anna smiled at him and Andrew kissed her on the cheek. Over his shoulder another figure appeared in the doorway, and a moment later Will was ambling down the path towards her, as big and handsome as ever, although a little grey, the smile on his face as large as his generous heart. Suddenly the years rolled away, and Anna knew for certain that Will would never change. He would always be there, solid and dependable as a rock, sane and practical and kind. Will opened his arms wide, and with a shriek of pure joy Anna flung herself into her brother’s arms.

~

Getting to know her family again proved to be a healing experience for Anna, and her welcome was such that it became necessary to insist that she was not waited on, but treated as she should be, as one of the family. Nevertheless she was awakened by a cup of tea in bed each morning, and found that numerous little treats had been devised for her, to everyone's mutual enjoyment. Dottie visited with her new husband Jack Drew, who had recently qualified as a chemist, and the young couple confided to her their plans to open a small shop as soon as they could find the right site. Anna found she was able to assist with much practical advice, and the knowledge that she had helped Dottie and Jack diffused the sadness she felt when they had to leave.

It had not occurred to Anna that she had become something of a folk hero to her family in England, but she now discovered this was the case. Dottie and Andrew had been brought up on tales of their Aunt Anna and Uncle Clancy's success in New York, and there had been much excitement when letters arrived. Then there had been wonderful presents at Christmas and birthdays, and the gifts of money which provided new shoes and warm coats. Finally there was the extraordinary day when Aunt Anna and Uncle Clancy had sent them money to buy this house, and move to the country.

For each member of the family the move had meant different things. For Dottie and Andrew it meant a better education locally, and clean fresh air. For Will it meant release from the drudgery of chainmaking, and the stress of trying to earn enough to feed his family. For Mary it meant never again having to share a copper for the washing, and a spacious kitchen in which to work. For the whole family it meant a private closet and washing facilities, which they had never known before.

For the first few evenings of the visit, Anna, Will, and Mary sat around the fire and talked until the early hours of the morning, bringing each other up to date with the detail of their lives, the background impossible to include in letters. Anna talked about her early days in New York and how the business had developed, and Will and Mary explained they had chosen this particular house because it had over an acre of land, which had enabled them to develop a small business growing vegetables for the local markets. They had received much help and advice from George Gibson before his death, and the vegetable business was now firmly established and showing a profit.

At length they were able to speak of Billy, and Will and Mary filled in the details which they had found too harrowing to put down on paper.

'Some o' the forces landed virtually unopposed,' Will said. 'But at Sedd-el-Bahr they walked into a wall o' fire, an' they was just mowed down, an' our Billy was one of 'em.' There was bad mistakes made, an' some o' the generals lost their jobs over it, but that don't 'elp our Billy, or any o' the others. There was thousands of Anzacs killed an' all.'

'Arr,' Mary agreed. 'It wouldn't be so 'ard if yo' felt it was summat worth dyin' for, but it was just a waste... an awful waste, at least that's what we think.'

And so they talked of Billy, and wept a little together, and Will showed Anna a faded photograph of his son in uniform, and told her that just before Billy left, he had joked that when he had seen off the Boche he would be back home for a quick visit before he set off for America to see his Aunt Anna, who he remembered well from childhood. He had a mind, he had told them, to make his fortune in America as well.