Lynda La Plante: The Legacy

The memory of those two full days and nights were all she had to last her a lifetime. And, sadly, they had lasted. Doris had begun to teach in the village school a year after Walter’s death. Her sweetheart, her husband, was with her in every corner of the house, and she needed no one else … ‘poor thing’.

EVELYNE HAD not been still since she had returned from school. She had slipped a pinafore over her skirt and rolled up her cardigan sleeves. Her thin arms were red raw from the cold, and yet she was sweating. Her pale face shone, her red hair clung in tight curls around her neck and the long braid down her back was loose. She tucked the wildly curling strands back and picked up the heavy buckets, puffing with the effort. As she tipped the water into the pans and the kettle, it splashed out, soaking her, drenching her bare feet which were filthy from the coal-dust-filled streets. She carried the empty buckets outside and waited in line to refill them as she did every day, every week, every month. Come five o’clock the line of village girls and women was always a hive of chatter as they met to collect water for their menfolk’s baths. All their families worked in the mines and every night was bath night.

Lizzie-Ann wiped her button nose on the sleeve of her threadbare cardigan. She grinned at Evelyne.

‘You back again? Well, well, Evie Jones, you’ll make a fine wife.’

She wrinkled her face and pointed to her black eye, a real shiner that made her wide pansy-coloured eyes appear ever larger. Lizzie-Ann was the prettiest girl in the village, and she knew it, she was a holy terror. Laughing, she said, ‘Is it any blacker? Me Mam hit me so hard I near fell off me feet. “Oh,” she said, “you little bugger, not brought in the washing, and Lord love me it’s covered in coal dust.”’

Evelyne smiled shyly and moved a step closer to the tap. She loved to hear Lizzie-Ann’s prattle, and knew they’d all be laughing in a minute.

‘ “I’ll be leaving your coal dust, Ma,” I says, “because I’m going to London to join me auntie, ohhh I’m following in father’s footsteps, I’m following my dear old dad.”’

She swished her skirts and danced up and down, her piping voice off key, but everyone began to giggle. Seeing she had an audience she began to do the can-can.

‘Come on, Evie, kick yer legs up, come on gel…’ ‘Will you really be going to London, Lizzie?’ ‘Didn’t I just say I wuz? Oh, look, there’s Dirty Jed, I’ll bet a farthing I’ll get a lemon sherbert outta him for showing me knickers.’

Evelyne poured the water from the buckets into a big iron pan balanced on the coal fire. Will grinned at his little sister as he stripped off his working clothes and she ducked under his arm to fill the tin bath. She loved bath time — loved the laughs and the warmth of the big old kitchen. Will was a strapping lad with curly, dark auburn hair, and black as his face was it still couldn’t hide his rosy cheeks. He had a tooth missing where he had fallen down in the pit and it gave him a cheeky little-boy look, but he was a devil when it came to teasing her.

‘Look at her stick legs, Mike,’ Will said to his younger brother, ‘it’s a wonder they don’t snap.’

Evelyne slapped him with the newspaper she was laying on the floor. Clouds of coal dust filled the air as the boys dropped their work clothes into the box and Evelyne pushed it under the table. Mike gave her a friendly pat on the bottom.

‘An’ she hasn’t got a bum either, but I love ‘er, I love ‘er.’

Mike always tried to be like his brother Will, but in truth he was as reserved and shy as Evelyne. Today had been his first day down the pit, and he was so tired she had to hold his hand to help him step into the bath. He moaned as he squatted in the water.

‘Give us a yell, gel, when he’s through. I’ll be out in the yard.’

‘Won’t you help me get Mike clean, Will? You’ll have time before supper to go a-courting.’

They all knew that Will was stuck on Lizzie-Ann, but, good-natured as ever, Will nodded, picked up the old sheet and ripped a piece off. He touched Mike’s back, which was raw from rubbing against the coal surface, and noticed that his elbows were bleeding and there were lumps on each side of his head.

‘You did well, our Mike, now get yerself clean. Do it this way.’

He twisted the piece of sheet into a point, dipped it in the water.

‘We do our faces first, mind, roll the corner into a point, wet it, and stuff it into yer eyes, then yer nose and ears … always do this first, while the sheet’s clean.’

Mike prodded and sneezed and coughed, his skin felt as if it was crawling.

‘Aw, put yer back into it, lad, or you’ll not get the muck off … Evie, give him a hand, he’s so tired out he’s lost his strength.’

When she had helped Mike get clean, Evelyne rushed out to refill the buckets. The kitchen was steaming and five times she went to the tap. She never blushed to see her naked brothers, nor were they shy at her scrubbing their backs with a pumice stone. They bawled at her for being too rough, splashed her when she was too gentle. She had seen her Ma bathe her Da since she was able to toddle, and had shared bath-time duties since she was strong enough to carry a bucket of water.

Mike stood up, dripping, and held out his arms for the sheet that served as a towel. She wrapped it around him and held his warm body for a moment. He was much younger than her other brothers, and his face puckered as he stepped out of the tub. Blood was running down his legs in rivulets from his knobbly knees, and Evelyne looked up into his face.

‘You all right, Mike? Shall I get the disinfectant?’

‘No, I can’t stand the stinging.’

Sighing, Will eased his body into the water.

‘My God it feels good, don’t it, Mike? Ahhh, this makes it all worthwhile, will you soap me back, gel?’

As she rubbed his back, she could feel the scars under her fingers. Mike sat huddled by the fire and watched her, and she gave him one of their secret, intimate smiles. He looked down, his long eyelashes looked as if they were resting on his cheeks.

‘Did Lizzie-Ann ask about me?’

Evelyne scrubbed and soaped, her skirt sopping.

‘She did mention that she couldn’t sleep for thinking about a certain person with no front tooth. Could that be you, our Will?’

‘Is that the truth, gel? Aw, yer having me on, but if you get the chance tell her what a fine-looking man I am naked.’

With a mock gasp of shock, Evelyne slapped him. He stood up and took the towel from her, wrapping it around his waist. He was indeed a fine-looking boy, even with the tooth missing.

Evelyne busied herself setting the table and pouring away the dirty bath water. Will brushed his hair, saying he would just parade on the front doorstep for a while.

‘Will you get dressed, Mike, lovey, you don’t want to catch cold now?’

Mike looked furtively around to see if Will had left the room then turned back to the fire. His voice was soft, lilting.

‘It’s so black, Evie, it’s indescribable. You push your hand out to feel it, and it goes right through the solid blackness. There is no gleam of light, no shadow. It is so black — like a massive weight on you, all around you as hard on the eyes as bright light.’

He was worn out, and afraid, she could feel it, but it was unspoken. He did not look at her, knowing that she knew. He was only three years older than Evelyne.

‘Will, Will, supper’s on the table now, come on.’

Evelyne set down the steaming bowls of stew, the big chunks of fresh bread. The two boys ate hungrily, washing the food down with gulps of scalding tea. There was a jug of ale, too, and that went down fast, but the dust stayed deep in their lungs. They were still eating when there was a rap on the back door.