Free Eve and Her Sisters by Rita Bradshaw

‘Good, good. I can’t abide this so-called Nonconformist claptrap and the Catholics are worse.’The small eyes in the fleshy face studied the family again, for all the world as though he was buying cattle for his farm. ‘There’s a two-roomed cottage, clean and dry, and a sack of tatties each week, along with plenty of logs and bits of wood for the range. You’d get ten shillings to start with.’
    Eve stared at the farmer. Ten shillings a week for this man and woman working all hours and their children too once they were home from school? Surely he would ask for more. And then the man’s voice came, quiet and servile. ‘Thank you, sir, and you won’t regret it. By, you won’t. It’s grateful we are and—’
    Again he was silenced by a wave of the farmer’s hand.‘It’s Willow Farm, Felling way. I’m Farmer Burns. Be there tonight by seven o’clock and one of my men will be waiting for you. Do you understand?’
    ‘Yes, sir, I understand.’
    ‘You have furniture, I take it?’
    ‘Aye, the wife’s sisters have it in their houses but I can get a flat cart from—’
    ‘Seven then. Prompt.’ With that he walked off, the tails of his coat flapping.
    Once the farmer had disappeared, the wife said in a low voice, ‘Ten shillings, Jim.’
    ‘It’s better than nowt.’The man’s tone had altered, it was harsh, choked. ‘He knows he’s got us over a barrel. It’s the worst time of year to get the push and at least there’s a house. We’ll manage. It’ll be better than at your mam’s. Not that I’m not grateful to her but with her only having the two rooms and your da and Don on shift work, it’s been murder.’
    ‘Better than the workhouse.’
    ‘Aye, lass. Better than the house.’
    The two looked at each other for a long moment and then gathered the children together and walked slowly away.
    Eve glanced at her sisters. They both looked blue with cold. She supposed she did. She bowed her head, she had a great desire at this moment to cry but she must not. Fumbling in the deep pocket of her coat she found the cloth bag holding what remained of the six shillings. Extracting a thruppeny bit, she pressed it into Mary’s hand, saying, ‘Go and buy yourself a mug of soup at one of the stalls. It’ll warm you and stop that cough. And bring me back the change, mind.’
    Mary was off in a trice and as they watched her go, Eve touched Nell’s arm. ‘It’s her cough . . .’
    ‘I know, I know, don’t fret. I’m all right. That breakfast will do us the day, eh?’
    As she had done often over the past days, Eve thanked God for Nell.The two sisters smiled at each other but said no more.
    The afternoon wore on. By four o’clock their numbers had been considerably reduced but no one had stopped in front of them, not even for a moment. One or two people had turned their heads as Mary had coughed but their faces had expressed all too clearly what they were thinking.A cold, silver twilight was beginning to fall and the lights from the stalls were brighter in the gloom when yet another man approached the remaining hirelings. No one had shown any interest in over an hour and now Eve felt the stir of hope move down the line. The other family had disappeared a little while earlier after one of the children had been sick, and of the three men and six or seven females - two older women and several girls who looked to be sixteen or more - standing there, Eve knew they all presented a better picture than she and Nell did.
    The man was young, tallish, and although his coat and trousers looked to be of good quality he wasn’t got up like the farmer had been or some of the other men who had stopped in front of the line. He walked slowly and she saw straightaway he was looking to hire a female because he didn’t even glance at the men. He stopped in front of one girl - a pert piece, Nell had termed her a little while before - and spoke to her for a minute or two before moving on. And then he was about to pass her