BY THE END OF THE SHIFT, Charlotte was managing one of Dotty’s looms whilst shadowing her on the others. The first time she’d had to change the shuttle, she’d been so terrified the loom would start up again whilst she was tying on the new thread. Dotty had taken pity on her and shown her, yet again, but Charlotte couldn’t explain what she was really afraid of. If her hand were maimed, she’d never be able to draw again.
She was so tired after eating the measly soup and roll that she almost fell asleep at the dining table. She’d planned to ask Dotty about the other incidents, but then the sun was setting and she had to get to the cottage.
There were no rules about having to stay within the mill complex, but the gates were locked a few minutes after eleven bells. She walked as quickly as her aching legs allowed. She wasn’t the only one heading out, to her relief. It felt strange, going out without a proper bonnet, so she’d tied her shawl under her chin, making her look like a washer woman. She didn’t care. At least the red mark on her cheek was hidden.
There was a reassuring glow coming from the cottage’s ground floor window as she approached. Ben opened the door before she’d even knocked. She stepped inside wordlessly and went into the small front room as he shut the door.
“Charlie?” he followed her in and watched her drop into the dusty armchair. “Have you no greeting for me?”
She glowered at him, making no effort to disguise her exhaustion. His eyes widened. “Good lord. You look terrible.” He collected something from the hall and came back in. “I brought you some currant buns and a bottle of ginger beer. Here, I’ll open it for you.”
He passed her the opened bottle and she drained it so quickly it gave her indigestion.
“Charlie Bean, say something, dear. You’re worrying me.”
“You have sent me to work in hell.”
His concerned frown warred with a nervous smile. “Come now, it can’t be so bad.”
“It’s awful, Ben, truly awful.”
He started to pace. “Well, you won’t have to be there for long. Tell me, what have you learned? Any suspects?”
She stared at him. He had no idea. She wanted to shout at him, but couldn’t find the energy to do so. She suppressed an uncomfortable belch, still thirsty. “No. There aren’t any suspects. The poor souls who work there are too exhausted to organise any sabotage.”
“I heard there was an incident today. Didn’t you see anything?”
“I was there! And there were no other workers involved, I can tell you that. The loom lifted off the floor and smashed itself to pieces, without any help from your fictitious ringleader.”
He paled. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s as I say! I saw it with my own eyes. I was almost killed. Well, that was because the foreman knocked me into the loom and my sleeve caught on the strap and lifted me up.”
“Good God, Charlie!” He knelt in front of her, seizing her arms. “You must be more careful!”
“You’re hurting me!”
He was so strong now, and didn’t seem to realise it. He let go quickly as if she were a dish pulled from the oven, too hot to touch. “I’m sorry. Tell me everything. What happened to the loom?”
She told him exactly what she saw, all except seeing the wisp above it. She wasn’t sure what he’d make of that.
“And no one else was near to it?”
“Only the foreman. I was so furious with him, Ben, he—”
“You lost your temper?”
“Only for a moment. He—”
“Charlie! For the love of all that is good in this world, you must report yourself for testing! Don’t you see? You made this happen!”
She shook her head. “No, that’s not true,” she said, trying to disguise her own doubt.
Still kneeling in front of her, he rested his hands on her knees. “Charlie, you can’t hide this anymore. I know you love George and want to marry him, but don’t you see how much danger you’d put him in? And even if you managed to keep yourself in check, what if you were reported after your wedding? He’d be prosecuted for hiding a Latent. That would be the end of his career, possibly his freedom. If you really do love him, you must submit yourself to the Royal Society!”
“It’s under control.” She forced herself to look him straight in the eye as she said it. “I would never put him at risk.”
“If you don’t do this yourself, darling, I will have to report you.”
“No!” She pushed him away. “If you do that, I swear I’ll . . . I’ll throw myself off Tower Bridge!”
Appalled, he stared at her. “What a terrible thing to say!”
“I’d rather drown than be one of their prisoners!”
He stood up, running his hands through his hair. “Like I am?”
She studied his face. He was defensive, and she needed to be more cautious around him. He was one of theirs now. As much as she wanted to believe he would take her side over that of the Royal Society, she couldn’t be certain. She blinked away the tears brought by that realisation. She was losing him. And from his point of view, she was being reckless; he had no idea about what Hopkins had been doing to help her. Of course, she couldn’t tell him. She had to redirect the conversation.
“Dotty, my friend, said this happened before,” she said. “In one of the previous incidents.” It was only a small lie. If nothing like that had ever happened before, the foreman and Dotty would have been much more frightened by it.
“No one said anything to me about looms lifting into the air.”
“Of course not,” she said. “The foreman told us to keep quiet. I’m not supposed to tell a soul, otherwise he’ll beat me again.”
“Again?”
She’d never seen Ben look angry before. “He saw me looking at the wall that divides the mill from where the magi must be. It wasn’t even when I was supposed to be at the looms; it was still in the lunch break. He hit me with the strap.” She pulled the shawl down to show him the mark on her face. “There are other bruises, too.”
Ben’s face flushed scarlet. “As soon as I have the power to do so, I’ll see to it that he’s dismissed,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I’ve put you in danger. What was I thinking? I’ll never forgive myself.”
The words flooded her with relief. He was still her brother, despite the gulf between them now. “I forgive you. You had no idea what it’s like for the people who work there.”
“They get three meals a day and a safe place to sleep,” he said, folding his arms. “Ledbetter Mills are the best employers in the area.” He actually looked proud of this. “The best in the country, I’d wager. Everyone wants to work there.”
Now it was her turn to stare at him. “If that is one of the best mills, I dread to think what the worst ones are like.”
“Oh, come now. You’re simply not used to it, that’s all. It’s just a bit of a shock. Only another day or so and you can put it all behind you. Why are you looking at me that way? What have I said?”
Charlotte pressed her lips tight together, willing herself to stay calm. She shouldn’t be angry with him. But she couldn’t stand the way he looked at her, like she was some feeble girl who was overreacting. “I have no idea how you think I will be able to just put this behind me. How can I just go back to my life, leaving those poor souls in a place like that?”
“You’re clearly overtired and upset about that dreadful foreman. There’s no need to be so melodramatic!”
“Melodramatic!” She jumped to her feet, her exhaustion forgotten in her anger. “Those meals are not enough to keep a child’s belly full, let alone an adult working a fifteen-hour day! And that’s not to mention the heat and the air inside that place! And the noise . . . my ears are still ringing!”
“It’s hard work, Charlie, you’re just not used to it.”
She took a breath to argue but the ringing in her ears got louder and the room started to darken. She was dimly aware of Ben guiding her back into the armchair and then, with the utmost embarrassment, Charlotte realised she’d almost fainted.
“I’ll open the window,” Ben said. “You look fit to pass out.”
He didn’t lift the net curtain to open the sash, keeping his face hidden from view. She realised he was afraid someone would see him there; it reminded her of the risk they were taking.
The fresh air helped. “I can’t describe how awful it is for them there,” she said, Ben kneeling in front of her again, this time looking at her with concern. “There are people with fingers missing . . .”
“That’s because of the old type of looms, darling,” he said. “The new ones are a lot safer.”
“And there are children with deformed legs . . .”
“If they didn’t work at the mill, they’d work somewhere else,” Ben said. “Sweet Charlie Bean, always wanting to take care of everyone. It isn’t your fault they have to work. It’s just the way things are for that sort of person.”
“What do you mean?”
“They wouldn’t be there if their parents had bettered themselves. Like ours did. Don’t forget that our grandparents were dirt poor, living off the land. They came into the city and they worked hard and lifted their children up, do you see?”
She thought of Dotty. “Some of them don’t even have parents.”
“And that’s sad, but—”
“And how can they better themselves when they can hardly stay awake at the end of a shift? Most of their wages goes to food and board, so how can they ever change their lives?”
Ben laughed. “You expect the mill to pay for their subsistence? Most mills pay less and leave the workers to find their own beds in the slums. Ledbetter’s—”
“It’s killing them, Ben! They look so ill and they cough all the time—it’s the air, I’m sure of it—I’ve been coughing, too, and they won’t let anyone open the windows! They’re so cruel!”
He sighed. “That isn’t cruelty! The air has to be warm and humid, otherwise the cotton threads snap! And if they opened the windows, the lint would fly about and make things worse.”
She could understand the logic of that, but it still seemed cruel. And the thought of going back there in the morning, working those frightening machines, filled her with unspeakable dread.
“I don’t think this was a good idea after all,” he said, looking at her. “I shouldn’t have made you do this. I feel terrible. I’ll get your things and we’ll put you up a hotel tonight and—”
The thought of a hotel bed was almost too tempting. But then she remembered why she had gone through that awful day at the mill. “No, Ben! We have to understand what’s happening there. If you send me home, there’s no way for you to beat Paxton. What if he pins it all on you?”
“It hardly seems decent to prioritise my apprenticeship over your safety.”
Truth be told, she wasn’t only thinking of that. She had to be certain she hadn’t caused the loom’s destruction, and if it hadn’t been her doing, she had to understand what had happened! Besides, she was hoping to gather other evidence against Ledbetter. “Ben, I need to do this. As much as you love me, I love you. I won’t let you down.”
The clock towers rang out over the city, a different range and harmony to those of London, reminding her how far she was from home. Was Hopkins in one of those towers now? How she wished she could see him.
They looked at each other. “Nine bells. It’s getting dark,” Ben said. “I can’t escort you back, though. I might be seen.”
She stood, feeling better than before. “It’s not far. May I take the currant buns with me?” At his nod, she picked up the bundle and went to open the door. She looked outside at the darkening street, hesitating.
“I’m sorry it’s so hard, Charlie. Truly, I am.”
“I’ll be all right,” she said, turning to look back on him in the shadows of the hallway. “I can go home soon. They can’t. Darling, you must promise me that you will try to make things better there, as soon as you can.”
“I promise,” he said after a long pause. “Come back same time tomorrow. And be careful, Charlie.”
When he closed the door behind her, Charlotte felt horribly alone. She wriggled her fingers between a gap in the brown paper and counted four buns. She allowed herself to pick one currant off the top before closing it up again, saving them for the ladies in her dorm. She felt Ben watching her as she left, so she looked back in the hope of one last wave, but there was only darkness at the windows.