Chapter 1
“Enough of ye moanin’, get yorsel an’ ye brotha doon to the beach an’ don’t hang abyeut.”
“Aw Da, ah did it yesterday, haven’t we got enough coal for now ahm worn yeut.” I see his face turning red and I don’t wait for an answer. I grab Con and push him towards the door before we get cuffed. The side of my head is still sore and swollen from the last time.
“Leave off her, she’ll gan, she always does. Divvint ye dare hit her agyen, ye hear?” Despite her own red, swollen eye and the dark bruising round about, Ma was looking fiercely at Da, head thrust forward daring him to argue.
“Ach keep ye hair on missus, ahm off to the boat. An’ tell them lazy buggor sons of yors to get doon there quick.” He grabs his coat and cap pushes past me and Con and, still muttering, slams the kitchen door on his way out.
I look back at Ma now leaning over the sink dabbing a cloth on her swollen face.
“Ye alreet Ma?
She puts the cloth away and turns to me. “Ay, I’ll live. Ye best get down to the beach with Con before yor Da gets back. I’d bettor shout at yor big brothas agyen.”
I leave, grab the wheelbarrow and a protesting Con and make for the beach. We trudge down the track our bodies almost bent double battling against the wind, but I’m not bothered about the weather. I’m wondering how Ma puts up with him. I heard him come in late last night with my older brothers. They must have woken the whole street with their raucous singing and laughter. I knew the jollity wouldn’t last, it never does. Every time they get back from their trips away it’s always the same. They don’t come home first; it’s straight down to the Fishers Arms until closing spending their catch money. Then back for their dinner and a fight if Ma gets in the way or doesn’t give him what he wants. Screams, shouts, thuds as fists hit flesh and crunches as bones hit walls and floor. Lying in bed I can hear everything, Con starts crying and I put my arm around him, the twins sleep through it, lucky them.
Ma’s bruises and black eyes are the talk of the village. “Ye should tell him to buggor off. Leave him before he kills ye.” But she won’t. “He’s alreet when he’s not had a skinful. Anywa where would ah gan like, who would tend te my lot? Talk abyeut me, yor face divvint look too canny the other day.”
I remember these overheard conversations, I put extra effort in to pushing the barrow, Con now running to keep up. My silent resolution is driving me relentlessly forward. This violence seems to be a way of life. I made a vow there and then; no way is this going to happen to me.
My mind is racing. I’ll run away, borrow a bike and get to Newcastle. There’s bound to be a job I can do. I can clean, run errands, anything. We reach the beach where we were yesterday but there are too many other kids doing the same thing so I go on. Con complains and sits down, arms crossed looking determined. I want to shout at him but stop myself in time. I sense his vulnerability and in that instance I realise running away would just heap more problems on Ma. How would she cope without me to help with the young-uns, who would get the coal in? I feel trapped, frustrated and flop down beside Con and cover my face with my hands.
We stay in this position for a long time probably looking like we’re set in stone. Con stirs and I feel his arm around me, my tensions release and tears start flowing.
“Sorry Em I’ll come. Sorry ah made ye greet.”
I lower my hands and look at him and smile through my tears. I know he’s not a bad lad in fact he’s got a good brain. He should be at school but there’s no chance of that. There’s little doubt he’ll end up on the boats like his brothers or maybe down the pit. I put my own arm around his shoulders and we stay there in a cameo of companionship until I pull myself up and mutter to myself but too loudly.
“Ah divvint even know which way is Newcastle.”
“Are we ganin to Newcastle?” Con wide eyed looks at me hoping for a revelation.
I laugh. “One day we will, ye just wait.”
“That’ll be class, ah canna wait.”
We continue our battle along the top of the beach looking for a suitable place. We chatter about what we might do in the big city, two kids in dreamland. We walk for another half an hour to an area we haven’t been before. There is a bit of land which sweeps out in to the sea and on the far side is a near vertical rock face. There was no-one on the beach.
“This lyeuks bonny, we’ll try here.”
It is a good place. Plenty of good coal lying about or as Da calls it, ‘sea-coal’, because it comes out of the sea. I can’t really understand this. Herring and squid come out of the sea, and seaweed but coal comes out of the pit. Perhaps the colliers drop some on their way to Newcastle and beyond. Whatever it is and where ever it comes from it burns in the fire, cooks our food and keeps us warm.
We leave the barrow at the top and follow the cliff face down on to the beach and start collecting the coal in to our aprons and then stagger back to the top to fill the barrow. It’s a slow process and we don’t exactly rush. We have plenty of time to stop and talk. We spot a deep shadow in the cliff face at beach level and go and investigate.
It is a large hole in the rock. I know this is a cave and tell Con showing off my knowledge.
“Yas too young to remember our Granda but he used to tell us stories abyeut a magic cave. Ma says he was nivvor the same after. She says it drove him to the drink an’ he never recovered.”
Con eyes are like big round saucers. “Really?” He pauses thinking and then looking very worried. “Oh nar na, if this is the magic cave maybe we’ll be driven to the drink?”
I laugh. “Ah think Ma was jokin’, she also says it was Grandma who did that.”
We peer inside eyes wide and with a hand held up in front of our faces we bravely step into the blackness. There was a sudden rustling followed by almost silent swishes from flying objects making us drop to the floor. We turn and see them splaying out in to the daylight.
“What are birds doin’ in here?”
“They’re bats.” I’m showing off again. I’m nearly twelve and I’ve been to school for almost two years and among other things I learnt to read. “They live in caves an’ come yeut at night to feed. Ah think we’ve just woken them up like.”
“Well ahm leavin’ an aal, we might wake somethin’ else, come on Em.” Con grabs my hand and pulls me back out.
“Alreet, we’re nearly done we can get back fo’ our tea.”
“Ah that’s canny.” Con stops, he’s thinking back. “AhI hope it’s not squid agyen ah canna keep it doon, even the look of it makes me reach.”
Da brings back all sorts from his fishing trips, stuff he can’t sell and squid is one of them. I have to chop it up into small pieces then close my eyes and swallow quickly but poor Con can’t manage even a mouthful. Yesterday he had to rush to the nettie. He made a horrible noise and looked white when he got back. Da always says that he can’t have anything else unless he eats it but I know Ma gives him something else on the quiet.
The barrow is fully loaded and very heavy but we’ve got the wind to our back now and it’s still not raining which is a blessing. We join in with other kids wheeling their own barrows. We talk about what we’re going to do tonight and what’s for dinner but don’t mention our beach and the cave we’ve found. We keep it to ourselves. Not until we get home, tip the coal in to the bunker and get into the kitchen do we tell Ma.
“Yor Granda always went on abyeut strange folk who live at the far end of some tunnel. Yor Granny always said it was this that drove him to the ale.” She laughs. “More like it was herself that did that.”
Con pipes up. “Brendan told me he was always steamin’.”
“Well he shouldn’t have.” She puts down the spoon she was stirring the dinner with and came over wiping her hands on a cloth and sat down with us. “Yor Granda, my Da, was a good man, ye remember that. He worked hard all his time an’ ah might add he nivvor laid a finger on anyone.” She went quiet but her silence couldn’t hide what she was thinking.
One of the twins still in their drawers by the stove starts to whimper.
“Someone needs feedin’. They’ve got built in clocks them two, just when our tea’s ready.”
I can see Ma’s tired and suggest they can wait until after we’ve had ours. She smiles over to me.
“Thanks Emily love but it’s best if ah feed her now before she wakes her sister.” She quickly dishes out our dinners and joins us with her own in one hand and with the other holding the now contented baby latched on to her breast. I wonder if the food ever provides anything for Ma before being sucked out again.
