They’ll never find me, not in this wet ground . . . do all I can to stay near the surface . . . I’ll not be buried alive . . . I’d rather die trying . . . then die not trying at all.
As quickly as it had begun, the runner came to a halt. A deathly silence followed. No birds, no men, no mechanicalrhythms from engines or tracks. It remained silent — until he moved an arm free. He heard the distant cheer of miners from above, as he felt a faint tender breeze caress the skin of his arm. He moved his head, felt the breeze on his lips and gulped in the fresh air. It tasted sweet and fragrant on his tongue and filled his lungs with chilled life. Finally he dared to open his eyes. He was on the surface and, mercifully — unbelievably — largely unscathed. He even smiled. A miracle had happened, for he knew, should he ever tell the tale of his survival, it would sound unlikely, fanciful, a lie, even to his own ears.
* * *
Talek untied the rope from his waist as he watched Billy and Tommy being carried away on makeshift stretchers.
‘I want to know where the man who died lived. His wife must be told and I should be the one to inform her.’ He threw the rope on the ground. ‘Tell everyone to go home. It’s unsafe to work today. Tomorrow, after a day of sun, I will inspect the pit to see if it is safe before I want any men to work here again. The ground will be more solid after some dry weather.’ He left the pit edge and followed the track down the hill accompanied by the shift boss. ‘How is the man who was injured? Where is he?’
‘Miss Kellow is tending to him. She is taking him home to his family and has arranged for a doctor to meet them there.’
‘Is he bad?’
‘Miss Kellow thinks he has a broken ankle.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘She is sitting with him in the wagon waiting to leave. They are down by the kilns.’
‘And the other man they pulled out? How is he?’
‘Davey is fine, Captain. Not a scratch and calling for a tankard of ale.’
‘He drinks enough. He would be calling for ale whether he was caught in a landslide or not.’ Talek realised he wouldn’t have even known his name a few months ago, let alone his fondness for ale. Grace had a lot to answer for.
They arrived at the bottom of the hill. Some of the workers had gathered to see the injured man off. Talek searched the gathering and finally found Grace in a wagon, leaning over the injured man and tending to his leg.
‘The man who died lived in the last cottage on Rowe Road, Captain.’
Talek turned to his shift boss. ‘Thank you. Is there someone who knows his family well and is willing to accompany me? Someone who can stay with his wife after I leave?’
‘I’ll go with you. I live next door and my wife will stay with her.’
Talek nodded, his eyes searching for Grace again until he found her. ‘Good,’ he said, absently. As if sensing Talek was watching her, Grace looked up and their gazes locked. Despite being so near it felt as if a hundred miles divided them. Her father climbed aboard and took up the reins.
‘Take me to the cottage on Rowe Road,’ said Talek.
‘Would you like to change first, Captain?’
Talek shook his head. ‘I don’t care for my comfort. His widow and her needs come first. She must learn the news from me, not by village gossip. I want to reassure her that she’ll be well cared for. It’s hard enough to lose someone, without having to bear the monetary troubles that are connected to their loss.’
* * *
The journey to the village was tortuous for the injured miner. Grace supported his leg and foot to help ease the pain, but he felt every jolt and turn of the wheels. At times his discomfort was too much to watch, but Grace was determinednot to show it and continued to reassure him throughout the arduous journey. They finally arrived at his home. Her father helped his family carry him inside as his wife ran ahead to make a comfortable place for him to lie down. The doctor arrived shortly afterwards, bustling through the open door with a bag in one hand and his hat in the other. After an experienced, cursory glance at the leg, he rummaged through his medical bag for a large dose of laudanum and administered it straight away to help ease the pain. As the drug took effect, he calmed the distraught wife by asking after the other members of her family. He knew them all by name and Grace suspected he was as well known to the villagers as they were to him. Gradually the fraught atmosphere within the cottage settled and he began to examine the man’s injuries in earnest. It was as they all feared, his ankle was injured, but the doctor remained pragmatic.
‘He has a dislocated ankle but it can be fixed. I’ll straighten and splint it today and return tomorrow. It will be painful, but the ankle will heal and be as strong as it was before.’ With the agreement of the miner, he set about manipulating the distorted ankle straighter and splinting it in place. At times the pain was so intense that the miner struggled to cope, yet at the same time he shouted and cursed through the pain to ‘get the job done’. Daniel aided the doctor by holding the upper part of the leg as the doctor pulled on the foot. The miner’s wife could not bear to watch and left the room, leaving Grace to soothe and reassure the injured miner that the pain would soon come to an end.
It was another hour before Grace and Daniel emerged from the tiny cottage again. They thankfully reclaimed their own horse and trap from a neighbour who had returned the clay wagon and retrieved their smaller trap in their absence. Her father climbed on board, but Grace did not. Standing on the opposite side of the road was Alfred. Her father saw him too.
‘If he is here to cause trouble I’ll—’
‘No. I want to talk to him. Wait here,’ she told him, before leaving the trap and walking briskly to the other side of the road. Alfred watched her approach. He opened his mouth but Grace didn’t give him a chance to speak. She had too much she wanted to say.
‘You can say what you like to whoever you want, Alfred, because I no longer care. And do you know why? Because your poison cannot hurt me any more. Those I care about know and accept me for who I am. They don’t care and nor do I. In fact, I’m proud that my family and I have come through it and perhaps I am the better for finally learning the truth.’ Alfred looked away, but she would not be ignored. Grace stepped in front of him so he was forced to see her. ‘What about you? If you continue this vendetta, people will soon come to know what you are really like. And that is sad, Alfred, because you will die a bitter old man.’ His expression did not change and Grace wondered if he had heard her at all. She tilted her head in bewilderment. ‘I did nothing to you, Alfred, except be unable to love you.’
Something stirred in his eyes. He was listening after all. She touched her heart.
‘Love comes from in here. It’s not spiteful or vengeful. It is beautiful, warm . . . and filled with joy. It can also hurt. I know because I have felt that pain too. But it doesn’t turn to hate. Hatred is more about the person who feels it than the one they once loved. A man cannot force a woman to love them. Nor a woman a man.’ Alfred suddenly bowed his head, unable to hold her gaze any more. ‘I wish you a happy life, Alfred, but it won’t be with me. They say a miner died today. Life is too short. Don’t allow yours to be filled with bitterness for someone you will never have.’
