Read Online Easterleigh Hall by Margaret Graham - Free Book Online Page B

‘He’ll be notching his hits on his belt soon, daft beggar.’
    Martin jogged his arm so that his lamp cast chaotic shadows. ‘Aye, maybe. And if you churn out any more long words we’ll have to notch your tongue out. Too much reading under the covers is bad, lad. You’ll go blind.’
    Ben and Sam laughed from behind them. The floor dipped a few inches and they scudded up the dust. The roof was lowering, they were stooping. It was killing on the neck. It was hotter.
    Bob peeled off to the left, taking another two to their placement. ‘Keep going, I’ll catch up.’
    The roof was lowering by the stride. They could see little by the light of their lamps, but enough. ‘Penny for ’em,’ Martin grunted.
    â€˜More of the same. The bairns are going to be hungrier next year unless we hammer out a good deal,’ Jack replied.
    Da caught up as the roof became even lower and they bent double, kicking up crud with every step, and though they cursed they did so silently because to open their mouths invited a lungful of dust. Jack risked it for a moment. ‘Jeb’s mebbe coming to talk about it all at the end of shift when we head to the cage.’ He ended up choking and coughing.
    â€˜Save it lad,’ Luke called. ‘See you later.’ He and his marra peeled off.
    It was so hot this far down, sweat was streaming off Jack’s face and dripping to the ground. He grinned, not a bad idea, they could do with some damping of the dust. His nose still hurt but it wasn’t the first time it had been broken and not the last, if he kept on fighting. But he had to. They were not far off what they thought would be the price of Froggett’s house. OK they weren’t there yet, but it was doable. Just look at the Gala fight – five guineas. There could be other purses that big and with Evie’s pay . . .
    His father squeezed past, panting. ‘Time I took the front.’ He was bent double as they all were now, and still the roof scraped their backs. More button scabs torn off. So what was new? His father set up a good pace. Deputyship needed men who cared, men who took safety seriously.
    Ben shouted, ‘Am I talking to myself back here? Or do I just eat your dirt to amuse myself? Keep your bloody feet gentle in front, won’t you? What d’you say, Sam?’
    His brother retorted, ‘Keep your gob shut and you won’t swallow so much.’
    Da was at the turn-off to Jack and Martin’s placement now, crouched down low. Jack’s back was screaming as he followed, his legs bent. Martin was breathing hard and his leg must kill but you’d not hear a word from him. They changed to a crawl. His da was checking the props at the seam face, which was slightly higher. He was crouched on his knees, which was how the hewers would have to work. Jack eyed it up. Or maybe this shift would be spent lying on their sides. It depended how much they cut away.
    â€˜Martin, Jack, get alongside.’ Bob pointed with his saw at the sides. ‘I’ll get some more props sent up. You’ll need to set them as you cut away. The putters will have to push in the tubs for the coal and leave the Galloway wagons back where there’s headroom. It’ll slow you down, mark you, but don’t be tempted to take bloody risks. You hear me now?’ He looked up at the roof. ‘Get back now, both of you.’
    They did as he checked the roof. ‘Right, lads, you’re safe and sound.’
    Jack and Martin grinned at one another. That was a new one – down a pit and safe and sound? His da saw them and shrugged. ‘Make sure you keep it that way.’ He pressed Jack’s shoulder as he passed. ‘You make sure,’ he murmured.
    â€˜Same for you, Da.’
    Jack and Martin had drawn a favourable placement in the cavil, so their piece rates were good. Martin had gone on to the face and was busy already, wielding his pick in short