We’ve decided that it’s time for action. I called a meeting at the pit gates today

Sarah leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, the memories of events as they had happened just a few days before unfolding in her mind. Lily, a little slip of a girl, pale and fearful, had been suspicious from the start. She hardly knew Sarah and had come to rely on Mary Ellen. She had refused to eat, resisting Sarah’s attempts to coax her into having a little broth.

“There’s somethin’ wrong. I can feel it. Too quiet oot there... There’s been an accident.

“An accident!” She had almost screamed the words, searching Sarah’s face with enormous, frightened eyes. And before Sarah had time to think of a reply, Nellie Burnett’s voice floated into the room.

“Aye, there’s been an accident. A man hurt it,” she called to a passer-by in her usual anxiety to be first with the news. At that, Lily had slumped into Sarah’s arms.

“Ma Jackie. It’s ma Jackie,” she had wept. And that was when it had all begun...

Mary Ellen had arrived as Sarah was struggling to calm Lily. Setting down a large portmanteau and wrapping herself in an apron, she took charge.

“Sarah, I need you to help me. The doctor’s comin’ once he’s seen to Jackie.”

So Sarah had boiled water, fetched linen from the big press, carried out a multitude of small tasks, while a sort of calmness had begun to fill the house. Then, just as the doctor arrived, came the first cries of Lily’s baby.

“A fine, healthy wee girl,” was Mary Ellen’s announcement as she had emerged from the bedroom, making way for the doctor. She was smiling but her shoulders drooped with weariness.

Sarah made tea while Lily slept. As Sarah helped Mary Ellen clear up, she was told that Jackie’s injury was a bad one. There were arrangements to be made, she said, while Lily’s mother would be summoned to help.

Reverie Somewhere a door banged and a woman, her voice shrill with exasperation, called her children in from play. Sarah, roused from her reverie, smiled to herself. If she had learned anything from that tumultuous day, it was that Langrigg was a village that looked after its own.

Sarah’s smile remained as she thought of the moment when, for the very first time in her life, she had held a new-born child. With an anxious glance at the clock, Sarah stood up and started to coax the fire in the range to life. She was checking pots and hoping that dinner wouldn’t be spoiled when she heard Daniel coming in at the back door. She waited for the usual clatter as he took off his boots in the scullery and started as he wrapped his arms round her waist.

“I’m sorry I’m late back, Sarah,” he said, but his wife was looking at his boots.

“Your boots are all muddy, Daniel, and you’re tracking mud all over my clean floor,” she complained. With a sigh, he retreated and took off his boots, coming back to sink into one of the fireside chairs. He looked flushed and seemed restless. “Have you been to see Jackie?” Sarah asked. “No. They took Jackie back home today. His leg’ll take a while to mend, but Lily’s mother came from the city last night, so he’ll be in good hands. What wi’ that and the new bairn, he’ll be better in no time at all. Besides, I had bigger fish to fry today. There’s been a meeting at the pit gates. The men have had enough.”

His voice sounded suddenly loud, his words bearing a coarser edge than usual. Sarah tried to stay calm. “You can tell me about it while we eat. You must be starving.” She set two plates down on the table, trying to still the shaking in her hands.

“It a’ started yesterday,” Daniel began, pushing food round his plate. “Rushforth spoke to every shift as they came off. Said the tonnage had to improve or he’d cut the wages. Wouldna listen to the complaints about the fact that workin’ in water’s slowin’ the men down. Wouldna listen to the worries about safety.”

Time for action He looked at Sarah, his eyes blazing with resentment.

“We’ve decided that it’s time for action. I called a meeting at the pit gates today. You should have seen the crowd.” He leaned forward. “No sign o’ Rushforth, of course. He sent a message, though.” Sarah waited with bated breath. “Aye, all meetings banned on pit property and that’s the whole o’ Langrigg. And he said that if the Langrigg men dinna want their jobs, there are plenty who do. Threats, of course.”

Sarah took a deep breath and placed a calming hand over her husband’s.

“Daniel, have a care, please. This protest is getting out of hand and somebody’s going to end up being the scapegoat for the whole thing. Worst of all, nothing will change for the miners. But you’ll be the scapegoat, and everything will change for us, Daniel.”

As Daniel searched for a reply, Sarah’s tears spilled over. Despairing, she put her head down on her arms and sobbed. Her husband’s anger seemed to evaporate. He was at her side in an instant and took her in his arms. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears.

“I’ve tried so hard, Daniel, to be a good wife to you, to fit in here. Now everything could be ruined. You could lose your job, we could lose our home. Where would we go? I don’t think I’m strong enough to start all over again.”

As she wept, Daniel held her close, his anger ebbing away. “Hush, Sarah. Don’t cry.”

An introduction For a while, they stood there, entwined in each other’s arms. Not a word was spoken, the silence broken only by the rustle of embers settling in the fire.

“You are, and always will be, the most important person in my life, Sarah. I will never let anything harm you. You know that, don’t you?”

He held her away from him for a moment, his dark gaze locked into hers.

“So if this grieves you, I will set it aside. You are all that matters to me.”

Tenderly, he dried her tears and brought her to sit by the fire. After a moment or two spent in reflective silence, Sarah smoothed Daniel’s hair back from his brow.

“The colonel will be back soon,” she said quietly. “He’ll set everything to rights, Daniel. You’ll see.” He gave her a playful squeeze. “I was thinking about something else entirely. Maybe it’s time that I introduced the new Mrs Morrison to my mother and father and to our Katy.” Sarah beamed with pleasure. “I’ve hoped you’d say that.” She jumped up, face alight with pleasure.

Daniel didn’t delay with the promised visit. A day later, he and Sarah set out for the Junction. Daniel had arranged a lift with the carter but Sarah had insisted on walking.

“It’s a fine day for the time of year,” she’d told him. “A walk will do us good. Blow away the coal dust.”

Daniel didn’t argue. Walking to the Junction would perhaps give him time to warn Sarah about his father’s unpredictability, about the darkness he could cast over the house when one of his black moods descended without warning.

More tomorrow.

Artwork: Andrew Lloyd Jones