Copper Kingdom

Will Owens was strolling along the street in the direction of Green Hill, keeping a sharp lookout for Katie. He did not want to go calling for her, she would get ideas about him then, start planning a wedding, go on at him about buying a pretty little ring and like hell he would! He had not seen her for several days now for she seemed to have changed of late. She was not half so willing and eager to fall into his arms the way she used to be. And the strange thing was it hurt.

He became aware quite suddenly of the local youths standing leaning against the wall of one of the houses. They did nothing menacing, just stood and stared and yet Will felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck. He held his head high, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He would show them he was not afraid of them, or of anything under the sun, he told himself stoutly.

He knew he was being blamed for Davie Llewelyn’s accident but he had done nothing wrong. Llewelyn had only got what was coming to him, surely everyone realised that.

He was the one who had started the whole shebang. After all, when he had dropped a sket of molten copper onto Will’s legs he had thought it a great lark.

Mind, he had not meant to tip up his whole load of blistering hot copper onto the older man, Will thought angrily, it was just that Davie had stepped back at precisely the wrong moment and had collided with him, an accident, that’s what it was.

Davie Llewelyn was home from the infirmary and back in his own bed, badly enough injured though, so it was being said round the public bars. But that was nothing to do with him, Will mused.

It had been wrong of Mr high and mighty Richardson to give him the sack, suspending him, that’s what he called it, but to every copperman working for the company it meant that Will was to blame for what had happened. He gritted his teeth, that was just one more reason for getting his own back.

He wished that Travers would get a move on with his plans for blowing up the Kilvey Deep, at least then Sterling Richardson would know he had enemies who could hit back. He was so sure of himself, so secure in his rich little world that he thought nothing could touch him. Well soon he’d learn differently.

Too late Will saw a tall youth step out of a shop doorway directly in his path. He made to grasp the boyo by the throat but suddenly his arms were caught from behind and twisted painfully.

‘What’s this, what do you want with me?’ Will asked roughly. ‘Got hold of the wrong man, haven’t you, I haven’t done anything, don’t know you from Adam.’

A blow caught him in the pit of his stomach and as Will doubled over, gasping for breath, his vision blurred with the pain, he felt another blow catch his chin and he was knocked sprawling to the ground. He doubled over, curling himself into a ball for protection but a booted foot aimed straight for his kidney and with a yell, he rolled over, lying on his back looking up at the grey sky.

His heart was pumping madly, he should get up and run he told himself, otherwise, he would have the living daylights kicked out of him. He was too late, two or three youths were on him, hitting out with fist and boot indiscriminately. Will felt blood run from a cut over his swiftly closing eye and tasted blood in his mouth. His body was savagely and repeatedly kicked so that at last, a darkness swamped him and he lay still.

‘Jesus, we’ve near kilt him, that’s not what Mr Richardson wanted, let’s get the hell out of here.’ To his relief, he heard the pounding of footsteps receding into the distance and he lay panting, trying to breathe though the pain in his chest was agonising.

After a time, he managed to push himself up onto his knees, nearly fainting with the pain in his stomach. He leaned against the wall, easing himself into an upright position, gasping as he felt his ribs begin to throb. He was a right mess and no mistake and lucky to be alive. If those thugs had beaten him a little harder he would not be here to feel his aches and pains, he told himself angrily.

Sterling Richardson, he was behind all this, Will thought savagely. He might have known that someone with money had put the local bully boys up to giving him a beating. Anger burned low in his gut, he would get even with the copper boss if it killed him. He remembered, with a feeling of satisfaction, of the plan formed by Glanmor Travers to blow up the Kilvey Deep, and his anger began to abate a little.

If he kept his eyes and ears open and used his head, he reasoned, he might just be able to get Sterling Richardson to the engine house at the right time, at the very moment of the explosion.

He was meeting with Travers and Rickie later that evening but it would be as well to keep his mouth shut about his own little idea. Rickie might just balk at the thought of killing his brother.

Will began to move slowly and painfully along the road, trying to make up his mind where to go. If he returned home in this state, his Mam would have hysterics and would doubtless insist on calling in the constable and Will did not want to draw attention to himself in any way, not right now.

‘William!’ He heard a voice calling to him frantically. He looked up and saw Katie running towards him, her arms outstretched, her eyes swimming with tears.

‘Oh, my darlin’ what’s happened to you? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you look as though a tram has run over you.’

‘I’m all right, I’ve just had a tussle with some cocky young bastards that’s all.’ He spoke abruptly, though he was beginning to see a way out of his dilemma. If he went with Katie to her home he could at least clean himself up a little before facing Mam.

It was as though she was reading his thoughts for Katie took his arm and drew him along the road towards Market Street.

‘Come along home with me, I’ll see to your cuts and bruises so I will. Sure you can’t go home to your mammy looking like that now can you?’

It was comparatively peaceful in the Murphy household, there was only Mrs Murphy sitting in the kitchen with the youngest child in her arms.

‘It’s all right Mam, don’t fuss,’ Katie said as her mother rose from her chair in astonishment. ‘Will’s had an accident, he’ll be all right when I’ve cleaned him up a bit.’ She drew Will towards the sink and gently began to wash the blood from his face.

‘Don’t make too much noise, now,’ Mrs Murphy said as she subsided into her chair once more. ‘The boys are asleep and I need the rest so for God’s sake try not to wake them.’

Mrs Murphy watched her daughter attending to Will for a moment in silence and then as Katie wiped Will’s wounds, peered intently at his face.

‘Looks like someone’s given you a fine beating to be sure; made enemies by the look of it, Will Owens.’ Her tone implied that she could understand why, though when she had finished speaking, Mrs Murphy folded her mouth into a straight line as though she meant to say no more on the subject.

Instead, she changed her tack. ‘Poor Davie Llewelyn, that accident has changed the man out of all recognition, lost his mind so he has. Did you know he’s gone missing now?’ Her attitude to Will was hostile and he felt his hands clench into fists, he’d had about as much as he was going to take. Katie’s fingers were gentle on his cheek as a warning not to allow her mother to goad him and he made a conscious effort to relax, but Mrs Murphy’s voice continued relentlessly.

‘Funny thing, our horse and cart went missing for a time, wondered if Big Jim had strayed to look for grazing or if poor Davie had driven him, though where would the man go? He’s got no relations round here, that I know of.’

Katie spoke up, obviously trying to change the subject. ‘There, Will, you look a new man so you do. The cold water has brought down the swelling on your eye, don’t look too bad at all, sure you don’t.’ Katie’s eyes were twinkling and Will knew she was happy to see him even under such circumstances.

‘I’d better be getting off home then.’ He rose to his feet and stared down at her and somehow a softness seemed to come over him, he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close, kiss her shining red hair and thank her for taking care of him. He must be going soft in the head, he thought abruptly, the sooner he got himself out of here and away from Katie’s blue, beseeching eyes the better.

‘I’ll see you round some time, Katie,’ he said as she went with him to the door. He thrust his hands into his pockets, feeling suddenly awkward. He had never been beholden to anyone for a kindness before and it gave him a strange sensation in his gut. On an impulse, he drew Katie towards him and kissed her soft willing mouth. She responded to him sweetly and he held on to her for a long moment before releasing her.

‘Thanks for everything,’ he said gruffly and then he was striding away down the road, wanting to kick the dust of Green Hill from his shoes as quickly as possible. He was a fool to let a woman, any woman, get so near to him. Katie was a good sort but then so were millions of other women. That didn’t mean he wanted her like a millstone around his neck, did it?

As he left the narrow maze of courts and terraces behind him and drew nearer to the town, he heard the engine of an automobile. He looked around just in time to see Sterling Richardson riding past in his gleaming Austin Ascot, sitting high in the seat, lord of all he surveyed.

All Will’s anger and bitterness returned. You had to do people down before they did it to you, as this afternoon’s little episode proved. He stopped walking and stared round him; it was growing dusk, the winter evening closing in. He might just as well go to the Cape Horner, to keep his appointment with Travers and Rickie and have a mug of ale before he returned home.

As Sterling drove slowly along the road, his attention was suddenly caught by someone waving a bright silk scarf at him from the pavement. He drew the Ascot to a halt and pulled off his goggles.

‘Ronnie! What are you doing out in the cold night air, you should be indoors. Come along, you can treat me to a drink of whisky and hot water, take some of the chill out of my bones.’

When they were both seated in the cosy living room, Ronnie drew off his glasses polishing them nervously with the end of his scarf. He coughed in embarrassment and Sterling wondered what on earth was wrong with him.

‘I had to talk with you,’ Ronnie said at last, ‘been wanting to get in touch but I never knew where to find you.’ His smile was rather strained. ‘Busy man you’ve been of late Sterling, but then you’ve much to do I don’t doubt. I’d better ring for that whisky, you do look a little cold.’

Sterling could see that Ronnie was nervous and it puzzled him. He waited patiently while the maid brought the drinks and built up the fire, and then leaned forward in his chair.

‘Well, nothing’s wrong, no, it’s just that I wanted to talk to you about Mali Llewelyn.’

Sterling felt himself grow tense. ‘What about her, is she ill?’ he asked quickly. ‘And you know if there is anything I can do to help financially, I’ll be only too happy to oblige. She need never know that I’ve been involved.’

Ronnie shook his head. ‘No indeed, on the contrary dear boy, Mali is coming into business with me. Under her management the laundry will flourish, I’m sure of it. Once the initial problems have been overcome, she will make us both a fortune.’

Sterling stared at him in surprise. ‘You are taking Mali Llewelyn into business with you?’ he asked. ‘Are you sure that’s wise? After all she’s simply an inexperienced girl.’

‘You underestimate her,’ Ronnie said softly, ‘Mali learns quickly, knows the books inside out and she has good ideas, she’ll be an asset, don’t you worry.’

‘This is all very interesting, Ronnie.’ Sterling tried to speak affably though he still did not know what the older man expected of him. ‘But it really has nothing to do with me, has it?’

Ronnie leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his hot whisky and his hand was holding the glass so tightly that his knuckles gleamed white.

‘Sterling, I’ve known you a long time and you might very well feel I should mind my own damn business but there’s something I must tell you.’

Sterling wondered if Ronnie was ever going to get to the point. He waited in silence and after a moment the older man sighed.

‘There’s no easy way to put this. Sterling, Mali is expecting a child and I’m damn sure it’s yours.’

At first the words did not sink into Sterling’s consciousness. He stared down into the flames of the fire, watching as a log fell between the bars in the grate, sending up a blaze of sparks.

‘Oh, she’s told me nothing,’ Ronnie went on. ‘I guessed at her condition and she did not deny it and I guessed about you, too. I saw you drive her away that day in the summer when she was involved in a skirmish outside the laundry gates. There’s no one else in Mali’s life and so I put two and two together, you see.’

Sterling rose to his feet abruptly, unable to believe the evidence of his own ears. Mali expecting a child, it just didn’t seem possible. But Ronnie was a man who would be sure of his facts before bringing anything like this out into the open.

Suddenly a strange anger began to burn inside him. It seemed that other people knew more about his business than he did. First Bea Cardigan had excluded him from her life, going her own way, doing just as she liked, letting all and sundry know about what had happened and now to cap it all, here was Ronnie Waddington confronting him with this titbit of information.

‘I appreciate you talking to me.’ Sterling did his best to conceal his true feelings. Ronnie had certainly meant well and he couldn’t blame the older mean for recent events. ‘But now I really must be going,’ he said and Ronnie rose to his feet at once, his face creased with anxiety.

He left the house and started the Ascot, his mind a turmoil of angry thoughts. So Mali thought she could manage without him. She was going in to partnership with Ronnie Waddington but how did she expect to bring up the child? Foist it onto some inexperienced girl, no doubt.

He drove along towards Copperman’s Row and the doors of the cottages were closed against the cold instead of standing open as they did in summer. Yet he felt that curious eyes were watching him as he drew to a halt outside Mali’s house, rapping hard on the wooden panel, waiting impatiently for her to let him in.

Her face was pinched and drawn and when his eyes roved over her, he could see the thickening of her waist and the soft swell of her stomach beneath the heavy skirt and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the child she carried was his.

He walked past her and kicked the door shut with his foot and her eyebrows lifted coolly as though he was a small boy who had got out of hand. Her hair was pinned up on the back of her head and she appeared more mature than he’d ever seen her before.

‘What are you doing here?’ Her voice was light like a summer breeze and he wanted to shake her hard. She moved towards the fire, her hands folded across her stomach as though in protection of her unborn child. Behind her the brasses gleamed and the hob was blackleaded until it shone, a witness to Mali’s industrious nature.

‘Mali,’ he spoke her name softly, ‘I know about the child. Why didn’t you tell me yourself? Surely you owed me that much.’

She did not look at him, her eyes seemed to search the distance as though seeking a reply to his question.

‘I don’t owe you anything.’ Her voice fell coldly into the stillness of the kitchen. ‘What did you ever do for me except bring me grief?’ She turned her face away and all he could see was the soft line of her cheek and the long dark shadow of her eyelashes. He caught his breath sharply.

‘Mali, have you considered the advantages I could give the baby? Don’t turn your face from me, just listen to me for a moment, can’t you?’

‘The baby is mine, do you understand, mine!’ She spoke in rising anger. ‘Now get out of this house, go and leave me alone, I just can’t stand any more.’

‘And you’ll not take it away from me!’ she cried. She lashed out at his face, her small palm stinging his cheek. He took her hands and held them tightly.

‘Hysterical?’ she echoed. ‘What should I be like with you threatening me and my father out there somewhere sick and ill and perhaps freezing to death in some ditch.’

He stepped away from her, appalled. ‘I’m not threatening you, Mali, and I didn’t know about Davie,’ he said, ‘I had no idea he was missing. Look, I’ll do all I can to help, I’ll get a party of men to search for him at once.’

‘Talk, that’s all you ever do,’ she said, quiet now. ‘Promises are easily made and just as easily broken especially by the great Mr Richardson, copper boss. Leave me and mine alone, can’t you? Don’t you understand that my father would be walking round a whole man now if it weren’t for you?’

‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’ Sterling made a move towards her but she shook her head at him.

‘No, don’t touch me. It was to put money in your pocket that my father worked in that stinking hell hole of yours in the first place.’

‘All right, I’m going.’ He left the cottage, stepped out into the coldness of the night, and stood for a moment staring back at the glow of light coming from the window. And suddenly he knew just what it felt like to be all alone in the world.