The Sweeping Saga Collection: Poppy’s Dilemma, The Dressmaker’s Daughter, The Factory Girl. Nancy Carson

The Sweeping Saga Collection: Poppy’s Dilemma, The Dressmaker’s Daughter, The Factory Girl - Nancy  Carson


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      ‘Why the hell should I pay? Wenches are normally willing enough.’

      ‘But it’s finding one, eh, Jericho? And there’s nothing spare in here tonight.’

      ‘Come a walk with me into the town then, eh?’

      ‘I told yer, I got no money.’

      ‘I’ll pay for your beer. I bet there’s plenty spare knocking about Dudley.’

      ‘I can’t be bothered. I’m stopping here. How much you willing to pay for a woman, Jericho? Just tell me.’

      ‘Why? What’s it to you?’

      ‘Well … I’m skint, see. Give me the price of a gallon o’ beer and you can borrow Minnie. That way we help each other out.’

      ‘Are yer serious?’

      ‘Course I’m serious.’ Dog Meat raised his forefinger in warning. ‘Only one jump, though. And don’t let on to her as we’ve got this arrangement. Just pretend you want to seduce her.’

      ‘And what if she won’t let me? What if she’s as tight with it as that Poppy Silk?’

      Dog Meat grinned. ‘Well, I can make you no promises, Jericho. It’s a risk you’ll have to take. But it’s the best offer you’ll get this side of tomorrow morning. She was always game enough with me.’

      ‘And it don’t bother yer, her going with me?’

      ‘Bother me? Why should it bother me? It only bothers me if I can’t get a damned drink. Have her. Just so long as she don’t know as I’ve had beer money off you for the privilege.’

      ‘So what you gunna do while I’m getting stuck up your wench, eh?’

      ‘I’m gunna stop here and get bloody soused. It’s a good scheme, eh, Jericho? This way we both get our fill.’

      ‘Fair enough,’ Jericho said. ‘So where is she?’

      ‘At Hawthorn Villa, as far as I know.’

      Jericho dug in the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a handful of coins. He counted them and handed them over to Dog Meat. ‘I’ll let you know what I think of her,’ he said with a leer. ‘If you’re interested, that is.’ He finished his drink calmly and went out.

      Minnie Catchpole was standing on the front doorstep shaking a rug as Jericho approached Hawthorn Villa. A cloud of dust and debris was instantly taken by the breeze, which blew much of it back over her. Minnie pulled a face and cursed as she spat out some of the pieces and picked bits out of her hair. When she saw Jericho striding towards her, she gave an embarrassed smile.

      ‘Minnie! How are you?’

      ‘Covered in dust, Jericho. Seen Poppy, have yer?’ She rolled up the rug ready to take inside.

      ‘Don’t talk to me about Poppy. She’s full of herself, feeling sorry for herself, thinking the world revolves around her.’

      ‘Well, she has lost her father,’ Minnie reminded him.

      Jericho shrugged. ‘Aye, I know all about that. But it ain’t just that, Minnie. She only ever thinks of herself. Now you …’ He looked at her admiringly.

      ‘What about me?’

      ‘I get the feeling as you’re easier to get along with.’

      Minnie smiled coyly. ‘I might be, Jericho. Who knows?’

      ‘I do. And what’s more, you’m pretty with it. I don’t know why I waste me time on Poppy bloody Silk when there’s lovely wenches like you around … Pity Dog Meat’s already bagged yer for himself, eh?’

      ‘I know,’ Minnie replied ruefully, desperate for a way to tell him that Dog Meat wouldn’t stop her doing what she wanted to do. Already her heart was beating faster at what Jericho was implying. ‘But Jericho, I’m always open to offers, you know. I mean, Dog Meat does what he wants to do, and I do what I want. It ain’t as if we’m proper wed. I on’y sleep with him.’

      Jericho shrugged, overtly feigning resignation of the circumstances, but inwardly heartened by her response. ‘Fancy a walk, do yer? It’s a grand evening.’

      ‘I don’t mind. Where to?’

      He shrugged again. ‘Anywhere. I dunno. In the opposite direction to The Wheatsheaf, eh?’ There was a gleam in his eye. ‘We could talk some more, if you like …’

      ‘All right. But maybe we shouldn’t be seen together. Folk might get the wrong end o’ the stick.’

      ‘That’s a point,’ said Jericho. He looked up at the sky. It was dusk and would soon be dark. ‘Tell you what, Minnie … Meet me just inside the tunnel … In five minutes.’

      ‘Shall I bring this rug wi’ me? It’d be something for us to sit on while we talk …’

      He nodded and couldn’t help but grin. ‘Good idea. I’ll wait just inside the tunnel, like I say.’

      Jericho stalked away from the encampment to the cutting and the entrance to the tunnel, hunching up in his moleskin jacket in an effort to make himself look smaller. He turned his head and looked furtively behind him towards the untidy shanty of huts two hundred yards away. Not a soul stirred. Already an old moon, reddish and low, was hiding behind black-fleeced clouds that were tinged with its eerie glow. Across the landscape, plumes of factory smoke bent like the tails of a hundred furry dogs. Here and there a feeble light glimmered.

      Jericho breathed deeply, drawing in the cool night air. His exhilaration was matched now by his anticipation. He moved a further twenty yards inside the tunnel and waited. Within a few minutes, he could make out the figure of Minnie in the dimness as she walked briskly towards him; the rug she had been shaking was rolled up under her arm. The blood started coursing through his veins once more.

      ‘Psst! Over here,’ he said in a hoarse whisper and Minnie headed towards him.

      ‘I don’t think anybody saw me,’ she breathed.

      ‘There’s nobody about. But we’ll go a bit further into the tunnel, for fear.’

      Stumbling here and there over loose stones in the darkness, their noisy footfalls through the gravel bed echoed along the tunnel in the hundred and fifty yards or so that they put between themselves and the entrance. It was as dark as a crypt in there. Outside, the mean backsliding dusk allowed no light to enter.

      ‘Here?’ Minnie queried.

      ‘Aye, here will do.’

      Unable to see what she was doing due to the extreme darkness, Minnie carefully laid out the rug on the gravel, made sure it was level, and they sat down, each blind to the exact position of the other. She reached out a hand and felt his arm. She hitched herself closer to him and was reassured by the warmth of his body as they made contact.

      ‘It’s so dark in here,’ she whispered. ‘You can’t see your hand in front of your face.’

      ‘Are you frit?’

      ‘A bit,’ she admitted.

      ‘Don’t be. Here, let me put me arm around you to keep you safe … There … How’s that?’

      ‘Better …’

      ‘Good.’

      A pause developed when neither could think of anything suitable to say because of the curious circumstances. Minnie broke the silence.

      ‘It seems funny, me being here with you like this.’

      ‘I don’t mislike it. Do you?’

      ‘No. I din’t say as I mislike it … I like being with you, Jericho.’

      ‘You know I fancy you, don’t you, Minnie? I’ve always fancied you.’

      ‘I’ve


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