Copper Kingdom (43 page)

‘Will took a beating, why?'

Katie shrugged. ‘No reason why you shouldn't know, I suppose. Some of the local boys gave Will a fine old beating. To tell the truth, they're saying it was no accident but that my Will did it on purpose to pay your dad back for sketting his legs some time ago.' She paused and swallowed hard.

‘Mali, I know Will has his faults but I don't think he'd be so wicked. Anyway, paid back he was sure enough, had to bathe his poor eyes I did.' She smiled. ‘Had to send him back to his mammy looking respectable or she'd have a fit.' She paused, rubbing at the suspicion of a tear on her lashes.

‘Mr Richardson suspended him but Will wouldn't work in the sheds now anyway, not with all the men against him. Thought well of your dad, Mali, so they did, all of them.'

Mali heard Katie's words but nothing made any difference any more. Davie was dead and he had suffered so grievously, losing his manhood to the copper. She closed her eyes in sudden pain. What matter who was to blame? Perhaps it was Will Owens as people had said, and perhaps it was Sterling's harsh words to Davie a few minutes before the accident. Now she would never know.

‘Come on, we're nearly there,' she said flatly. In silence then, they walked the rest of the way to Dan-y-Graig. Katie clung to Mali's arm as though to give her all the support she needed and Mali's heart warmed a little. Kate was a real friend and it was a shame that she had thrown herself away on a waster the like of Will Owens. But then who was she to judge when she had made such a mess of her own life?

At last the gates of the cemetery came into view. The sun was shining more brightly now though the air was cold and the ground damp with melted frost.

‘I'm not at all sure you should be doin' this,' Katie said as they walked through the big gates. To the right was the small chapel built of heavy stone, grey and squat in the pale light. On the left was the church, grander and taller with ornate stonework above the curved windows.

Mali stood quite still for a moment, taking deep breaths, hesitant now that the moment had come. Katie grasped her arm even tighter and together they made their way between the marble headstones.

The noise of men's voices reached towards them and Mali stared around her, seeing how different everything was. The wall that had sheltered her mother's grave was gone. And there was no tree, just a huddle of stones and mud where the hill had slipped into the cemetery.

The men fell silent, leaning on their shovels, and as Mali approached one of them stepped forward, touching his cap.

‘It would be better if you did not look now
merchi
,' he said gently. ‘Why not go home and wait until Gerwyn the undertaker has done his job?' He blocked Mali's path and she smiled at him, knowing he meant well.

‘I must see him,' she said, ‘he's my Dad.' She moved up the hill with Katie still clinging to her arm and she could feel the Irish girl trembling. And yet Mali herself was not afraid, not now the moment had come.

The men fell back, heads bowed, and Mali stared down into the wet soil, her eyes unwavering.

Davie's hair was matted with clay, his head was arched back as though he was sucking for air. Had he died at once, Mali wondered, or had it been slow and agonising, a terrible darkness filling windpipe and nostrils, shutting out the good clean air? But he was gone now, his spirit no longer within the distorted body. Dave was reunited with his Jinny.

Beside her Katie was saying prayers, eyes closed, face white and drawn. Then, quietly at first, one of the coppermen began to sing ‘Bread of Heaven' and slowly the other men joined in until a chorus soared upwards in triumph, tenor and bass in harmony rising towards the mountain top and it was so beautiful that Mali could not bear it.

A light drizzle began to fall and Katie tugged on Mali's arm. ‘Come on, I'll take you home,' she said softly and Mali nodded, for there was no more to do here in the graveyard. She did not feel the rain on her face for it mingled with her tears.

The return journey did not seem to take very long and soon Mali found herself turning the corner past the Mexico Fountain.

‘You are not going home yet,' Katie said firmly, ‘sure you can come into my house and have a bit to eat, you won't do yourself nor the little babby any good by starving.'

Dai End House had returned to the open doorway, his hands manipulating the accordion with gentleness, drawing soft haunting sounds from the small musical instrument.

‘We men want to take the responsibility for burying your dad proper like, Mali,' he said without pausing in his playing. ‘No job for a girl and we'll do it all quick and quiet like in view of the circumstances. Gerwyn the undertaker knows what we want and no expense spared, Davie Llewelyn shall have the best.'

Mali could do nothing more than nod but Dai seemed to sense her feelings of gratitude for he inclined his head and then closing his eyes concentrated once more on his music.

It was good to be in the warmth and the noise of the Murphy kitchen and even Tom seemed amiable, his voice gentle as he chided his sons.

‘Come sit down my little colleen,' he said kindly to Mali. ‘Rest a bit and Mammy will give you something good to warm your belly.'

Katie went upstairs to change from her Sunday clothes and returned a little later wearing a skirt that was darned and patched and kept only for working in.

‘I forgot to tell you,' she said, ‘Big Mary sends you kind thoughts, I only remembered about it when I put on me old skirt.' Katie sat down near Mali and smiled at her. ‘Mary says the laundry needs you so hurry back.' She sighed. ‘I think it might be better for you to be in work rather than sittin' at home alone just now.'

Mali nodded. ‘You're right, and tomorrow I'll be back at my desk whatever happens.'

Katie appeared doubtful. ‘Perhaps that's a bit too soon, for sure you need a little time to get over . . .' she paused and shook her head. ‘Well it's up to you sure enough.'

Jess Murphy banged a plate on the table. ‘Come on Katie, stop babbling and help me bring in the food, it's only bread and cheese but all home-made, fresh and good. There's a couple of cakes in the tin, you can bring them out later.'

It was pleasant to simply be one of a crowd, to sit and eat the fresh crusty bread and drink hot sweet tea out of a cracked cup and simply not have to think of anything at all, and Mali felt the tension that had gripped her all day slowly ease away.

After they had eaten, Katie placed little Sean on Mali's knee and smiled down at her. ‘You just hold the babby and Mammy and me will do the washing up. Soon the boys will go up to bed and then we'll all have a bit of peace.'

Mali looked down at the plump little boy in her arms and for the first time realised that she wanted her baby, he would be a boy, she felt sure of it, he would be handsome and fair, with dimples in his cheeks.

Suddenly, she was very tired, the events of the past days seemed to catch up with her and she could scarcely keep her eyes open.

‘Katie, I think I'll go home now,' she said softly. ‘I'm very grateful to you for all the hospitality you've shown me, and I don't know what I'd have done without you to keep me company at the cemetery.'

Katie went with her to the door. ‘Are you sure you'll be all right on your own?' she asked. ‘For sure I'll come and sleep down on your kitchen floor if you want someone with you tonight.'

Mali shook her head. ‘No, it's all right, Rosa will be there, though I expect she'll have a few hours in the public bar of Maggie Dicks or the Mexico Fountain before she comes home.'

Katie frowned. ‘You want to tell her to get out, especially now, there's no reason why you should have to put up with her, no reason at all.'

Mali rubbed at her eyes tiredly, dusk was falling and she felt as though she wanted to crawl into her bed and sleep the clock around.

‘I suppose you're right but I'm too tired to think of anything now, I'll talk to Rosa in the morning, I promise.'

It was cold in the street and from down the row, Mali heard a woman singing soft and beautiful. Other people were happy, she thought tiredly, families were together wrapped in the warmth of well-lit kitchens; it suddenly seemed that she was the only one in the whole world who was alone.

She opened her door to darkness. The fire burned low in the grate and Mali knew that if she hurried, she could save it. She threw off her coat and put some sticks into the dying flames, watching them kindle with a sigh of satisfaction. When she lit the gas lamp, all at once the room seemed transformed and Mali did not feel quite so alone.

She placed coals carefully on the sticks and coaxed the flame by fanning it with her hand. Soon the fire glowed into life and Mali sank back on her heels and sighed. She looked around her at the untidy kitchen. Dishes lay greasily in the sink and the table could do with a good scrubbing, she decided, for there was salt spilled in the crevices between the wood and tea stains marred the whiteness of the boards.

It did Mali good to be occupied, for her feeling of tiredness had disappeared. Perhaps all she really needed was to be alone and instead of pitying herself for her solitude, she should be grateful, at least she had a roof over her head which was more than many folks could say.

A new thought struck her then. This cottage she was so fond of was Sterling Richardson's property, he could tell her to leave at any time he chose. She brushed back her hair wearily, she could not dwell on such thoughts, not just now, she would face those problems when she came to them. It was just like her mother used to tell her, ‘Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof.' It sounded like words from the good book, only Mali could not be sure.

She filled the kettle and put it onto the blazing fire. She would have some tea and then go to bed.

As she sat at the table a little later, with a cup in her hand, she wondered what was different about the small kitchen. She looked round curiously and began to realise that none of Rosa's possessions lay cluttering the room as they usually did. That was strange, very strange. She lifted her head and sensed that the house was well and truly empty of everything connected with Rosa.

Mali hurried upstairs and into the bedroom, pulling open the cupboard, moving aside Davie's clothes; she went to the chest of drawers but the tattered fur collar, the dingy battered hat and all the rest of Rosa's possessions were gone.

Slowly, Mali descended the stairs and returned to the kitchen. She did not blame Rosa for running out, she understood that Davie's death together with the news of the forthcoming baby was all too much for the girl to take in her stride. In a way it was a relief to have Rosa off her hands.

A sudden suspicion entered Mali's mind. She moved to the dresser and lifted the tea tin, holding it close to her for a moment, taking a deep breath before prising the lid open.

The tin was empty, not a farthing remained. All the money collected by the men from the Mexico Fountain together with the hundred pounds compensation had vanished. Mali dropped the tin to the floor with a clatter.

‘Oh, Rosa, how could you?' she said and the words fell into the silence like a cry.

Sterling knew that the new order for zinc wire should have made him the happiest man in Sweyn's Eye. If he could fulfil the demand from Coopers, which was a huge industrial company situated about twenty miles away from town, then he would be solvent once more. He would be in a position to discharge his debts and to expand the zinc foundry so that it would be a real money-spinner.

And yet there were memories lurking in his mind, thoughts of Mali Llewelyn, her green eyes wild and accusing, her soft body changed by the child she carried within her. But her accusations had been unjust, without foundation, and anger overrode any other emotion as he thought of their last encounter.

He rose from his chair and stared out into the cold January day and sighed heavily. When he had sent out his men to search for Davie Llewelyn, he had not expected them to have found him in such terrible circumstances. He had been dismayed to hear of Davie's death and the manner of it was too horrible to think about.

He moved restlessly from the window, perhaps a walk in the fresh air might clear his head. He drew on his coat and glanced towards Ben. ‘I'm going out, keep an eye on things.'

Ben smiled and the ends of his waxed moustache lifted. ‘That new order is going to make us rich,' he said. ‘Going to celebrate with a nip of something warming are you Mr Richardson?'

Sterling paused, Ben's words bringing to the surface the triumph of his success. He smiled. ‘We do seem to have turned the corner, Ben,' he replied.

Outside, the wind was keen and a rim of frost covered the cobbled yard, coating the rooftops of the huddled buildings so that it appeared to have been snowing.

He strode out briskly, looking up as the sudden burst of sparks from one of the chimneys illuminated the dullness of the day. The stink of sulphur pervaded the atmosphere and Sterling suddenly wanted to get right away from the Richardson Copper Company.

It had dominated his life in this last year since his father had died, he ate it and slept it twenty-four hours of every day. And his brother Rickie, who might have been helping, did nothing but frequent low bars, consorting with villains who would cut a grandmother's throat for the price of a pint of ale.

He felt a fierce and burning resentment against his brother. If Rickie had pulled his weight, taken his share of the responsibility for the business, then Sterling might have had more time to live his own life. Instead he had been either cooped up in the office poring over books or attending auctions or chasing orders.