The Chainmakers (9 page)

'I can't imagine why we are doing this,' she grumbled, as they started to climb again. 'It's too dark to see anything...'

A few minutes later Robert turned around and held out his hand. 'Hold on to me for the last bit, it's rather steep. Now you will see why I brought you up here.'

Anna struggled up the last few yards, and as she emerged to a flat viewing area she caught her breath in astonishment. Before them the whole vast blackness was lit like a huge firework display from the crimson lights of hundreds of forges and furnaces which roared and twinkled below like so many great red mouths, lipped with white at the edges. Above them the clouds hung heavy and purple, lightened with crimson and gold by the fires which spanned almost twenty miles.

'There Anna,' Robert breathed, 'The Black Country's own Aurora Borealis!'

Anna was transfixed, her eyes roamed the horizon, trying to make sense of it.

'No,' she said slowly. 'The Heavens have nothing to do with this, this is made by man. It seems to me like a great battlefield, with all the armies firing huge guns at each other...'

'You are not the first to have seen it that way,' Robert conceded. 'Look Anna, over to the left there, that's Wolverhampton, and then Coseley, Wednesbury and Bilston. There on the right you have Dudley, Albion, Oldbury and Smethwick, they are in the battle too, and in the distance you can even see Walsall. A great deal of your battlefield is owned by the Earl of Dudley, the land and the mines underneath it, and of course he has the rents from the factories and foundries and chainshops. To think of owning so much...'

'Like your family do in Birmingham?' Anna could not help the remark slipping out, but Robert did not seem put out.

'Touché my dear. But we were never on such a scale as this, and not such heavy industry. Our factory makes small items, japanned ware and the like. My father always ensured his employees were well looked after, and Andrew does the same. There is not the sort of poverty I have seen in Sandley Heath.'

Anna shivered, and Robert was immediately solicitous. 'I thought you would be cold as soon as we stopped walking.' He took off his coat and wrapped it around her, and Anna snuggled into the luxurious body warmth.

'You see before you Anna, a different sort of beauty than that you saw from this same spot in summer.'

'It is a wonderful sight most certainly,' Anna agreed, 'I never saw anything like it in my life. But how can a battlefield be beautiful? It is not the word I would use to describe it.'

'No? What word would you use?'

Anna hesitated. 'If it is a battlefield, frightening, I think. You see the lines there, the lines of the canals? They are dark red in the light, they seem to me like veins of blood running through the land.'

'Ah, yes. I can see what you mean. But I think your reaction is coloured by what you know of what goes on there, the hard work and the poverty. As an artist I see it differently. My impression is of a great Heavenly firework display. It is the same thing as seeing you dancing on the bellows, when you weren't really dancing at all. You know what it was really like, because you were close to it, but my father, as an artist, saw the beauty in the image, and that was what he painted.'

'Yes, I see... or at least I think I do.' Anna turned her face to Robert. 'Thank you for bringing me up here, it has given me a great deal to think about. When I am hammering at the chain I shall have the consolation of knowing that from up here I look like a firework!'

Robert laughed, and after a last look at the great spectacle spread below them, they made their way down to the cottage, where Robert handed in the lanterns. When they reached the carriage Anna gave Robert his coat, knowing their time together was ending, and that she would probably never see him again. The thought filled her with despair. She glanced at his profile as the carriage rumbled back to Sandley Heath, and saw he had a troubled look. When the carriage stopped at the end of Dawkins Street he took her hand gently.

'Goodbye, my dear Anna, thank you for your help.' His look held her, she felt unable to breathe. 'I should like to paint you again some day. You are a very good model.'

He smiled gently, and her misery was profound.

'Goodbye Robert. Yes, if you need a model again, I shall be grateful for the work.'

'Perhaps next year. I am off to France for the summer.'

'Oh.' He would not even be in the country, she thought miserably. The driver opened the door and Anna climbed down from the carriage. She looked up at Robert. 'Thank you for everything.'

'Goodbye. If ever you need anything, let me know.'

The driver closed the door and mounted to his seat. He winked his eye at Anna, picked up the reins, and the carriage trundled away into the darkness.

Anna walked slowly down the ginnel and let herself in at the back door. Doors were never locked in Dawkins Street, as no-one had anything worth stealing. As she entered the back room she stopped short.

'Oh no!' It was too bad. Her father was sprawled on the floor in front of the fire, sleeping it off. At least his snoring was not the heavy stentorian sound he sometimes made and Anna decided she would probably be able to wake him and push him up the stairs herself, rather than have to fetch Will. I'll warn mother first, she decided, making her way up the scrubbed wooden stairs. As George Gibson was such a big man, his wife always had to get out of bed when Anna brought him up, in case she could not hold him and he crashed down on top of her. Anna entered the tiny bedroom and touched her mother's arm. 'It's me Mom,' she whispered. 'I'm back. Dad's asleep downstairs, I'm going to have to help him up.'

Her mother did not move. 'Mom,' Anna said more loudly. 'Wake up Mom, I've got to bring Dad up.' With sudden dread she shook her mother's arm.

'No... oh no! Mom... are you ill?' With trembling fingers she found the matches at the side of the bed and lit the candle, but her mother's body was quite cold.

~

Before Anna went to the chainshop on Thursday morning she walked to the bottom of the road to catch Clancy on his way to work. As he approached he looked the picture of dejection.

‘Hello Clancy.’

He looked up, and said with some relief, ‘Oh there ye are! I was just thinkin’ about ye. I only heard last night when I got home from work.’

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t tell ye how sorry I am darlin’’. His face was full of concern. ‘To think on Saturday I was telling’ ye all my troubles about Mam. Who would have thought your own Mam would be the first to go? What was it?’

‘Her heart,’ Anna said briefly. She bit her lip and then said, ‘I’ll walk along with you.’ They walked down the bank towards the chainshop where Clancy worked as second hammer. After a moment Anna said ‘Of course she’s always been frail and a bit bluish, but I never thought...’

‘No.’

‘She had a nasty turn the day before, I should have known it was serious but she said she was alright...’ Her eyes had a pleading look, and Clancy said gently. ‘It’s nobody’s fault darlin’. Was someone with her?’

‘No!’ The sound seemed wrung from her body. ‘She was all alone. I had gone to Dudley Castle for tea with Robert, a goodbye treat...’

‘I see.’ Clancy’s tone was gentle, but his face seemed suddenly turned to stone. He said ‘And your Dad?’

‘When I got home he was lying drunk on the floor as usual.’ Anna said bitterly. ‘He must been too far gone to realise anything had happened. He may well have been there when she... when she...’

She broke off, fighting back tears. Clancy asked, ‘And how is he bearing up?’

Anna looked at him in amazement. ‘How is he? He? How should I know? I suppose he’s alright, he’s got his booze.’

‘Come on now darlin’’ Clancy said gently. ‘Think how you feel because you were out, and then imagine how he must feel...’

‘He doesn’t care...’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘If he cared he would never have been out drinking in the first place.’

A retort sprang to Clancy’s lips but he stifled it. Instead he asked, ‘Are ye on your way to work?’

‘Yes. I had yesterday off but I have to go in today or we’11 never pay for the funeral. I had six shillings saved from my pay from modelling, and another guinea Florence gave me when I left, but that’s all, and our Will has nothing...’

‘It’s your Dad’s responsibility Anna. He earns a great deal more than you...’

‘Arr. And spends it...’ she said bitterly.

‘Have you asked him for money?’

She shook her head. ‘I haven’t spoken to him,’ she said. ‘I just couldn’t bring myself to speak to him...’

‘That’s no good Anna, not for any of you. If you still feel you can’t talk to him, ask Will to do it.’

She nodded briefly, and then said, ‘The funeral, it’s Saturday at two in the afternoon.’

‘I’ll be there. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Yes. I came to ask you... will you come with me to the Clent Hills on Saturday morning? Early?’

‘Yes of course...but...on the day of the funeral...?’

‘There should be some primroses out. I know it’s early but there are sure to be some in the sheltered places. I can’t go alone, and mother loved primroses so...’

‘I’ll call for ye at six thirty darlin’. To allow plenty of time.’

‘Yes, thank you. I’m not preparing food for the tea after the service, Mary’s doing it for us.’

They said their goodbyes and Clancy went to the chainshop. As he put his bottles of cold tea into the bosh to keep cool, he watched Anna making her way up the bank. She looked small and slender, he thought, as if she would not have the strength to make it to the top. He wondered how she would get through the next few days, and then realised that it was the weeks to come which would be the real problem. Working all day, all the domestic duties, and a drunken father to boot. Poor lass, he thought, my heart bleeds for ye so it does.

~

'It's no use looking like that Robert.' Florence brandished the marmalade spoon as her son thrust his head into his newspaper.

'If you don't want my truthful opinion you should not ask what I think,' Florence continued, spreading marmalade on her toast. 'Leave it alone, that's my advice. Let the poor girl be.'

'That's hardly a charitable attitude!' Robert burst out. 'You know very well she needs the money, and a change of air would do her the world of good.'

'Ah! So it's Anna's welfare you are concerned about now is it? A moment ago your own needs were paramount, you must have her as a model and no-one else would do.'

'That's right!' Robert put down his newspaper. 'I do need her. If I'm to make a triptych I need another portrait. Outdoors... in the fields in her flowered dress, perhaps. Then I will have the work scene, the domestic scene and an outdoor scene.'

'And that will take the whole summer?' Florence asked with a hint of sarcasm.

'No, but Anna will have extra work from the other chaps. Jacques usually brings his wife to model for us, but she is not coming this year. She's expecting a child,' he added a little selfconsciously. 'We kill two birds with one stone. We have a model and Anna makes some money and has a good holiday into the bargain.'