Free The Most Precious Thing by Rita Bradshaw Page B

his ribs, causing his breath to catch in his throat as yet again - as he’d done hundreds of times in the last weeks - he grappled with the events of that night before Christmas. He was certain now that something major had happened to Carrie. He would make sure he had a word with Lillian tomorrow before she left for church with his mother and find out exactly what had occurred at the market. His sister had spoken of Carrie being bad, but that could mean anything. He might even accompany the women to church, depending on what Lillian revealed, even though once he had started work he, like his father and brothers, only attended Holy Trinity on high days and holidays. But Carrie would be there, and it might be the best chance he’d have to take her aside for a minute or two.
     
    A thought was hammering at the edge of his mind, a possibility he’d kept at bay by sheer willpower the last weeks because to give it free rein was unbearable. Now, as his muscles tightened in his limbs, so taut he could feel cramp beginning to work in one leg, he forced himself to relax. He loosened his joints one by one and breathed deeply, emptying his mind of everything but the physical state of his body.
     
    It was proving to be a long night . . .
     

Chapter Five
     
    It was beginning to snow as David stood outside Holy Trinity church the next morning, the flakes of white sharp in the keen north-east wind and the ground frozen rock hard beneath his feet. He could see Carrie some yards away standing with her mother and the twins, but as convention demanded he was in a group of men which included her father and brother, and the subject of conversation was the usual one - that of the anticipated fight involving the unions against the government and the coal-owners.
     
    David had intended to walk past the men as he exited the church but Sandy had caught his arm, drawing him into the circle. After Carrie had told her father that he had had nothing to do with getting her drunk on sloe gin the day of Walter and Renee’s wedding, Sandy had come to him cap in hand, and ever since had been at pains to make sure their relationship was back on its old comfortable footing. It was proving an irritant.
     
    ‘I tell you, lads, if the government thought they could get away with passin’ a law to prevent workin’ men an’ women gettin’ educated an’ thinkin’ for themselves, they would,’ Sandy was saying militantly. ‘What say you, David?’
     
    David nodded perfunctorily. If Carrie moved away from her mam, even for a minute, he’d go over.
     
    ‘The owners have made up their minds to crack down on us: the writin’s been on the wall for years. With them so-an’-so’s in Japan an’ America an’ the like producin’ cheaper than us, our industries should have pulled their finger out an’ come up with better or different, but what have they done? Gone on in the same way but demandin’ we accept reduced wages an’ increased hours so their profits aren’t cut, an’ safety is their last consideration. Luxury, that’s become.’
     
    ‘Aye, you’re right there, man.’ Another miner joined in, his rough-hewn, pockmarked face red with indignation. ‘An’ you say a word out of turn, just a word, an’ they label us the “new red threat” an’ “worse than the Hun”. Lost a brother an’ two of me lads in the last war, an’ me leg’s still peppered with bits of shrapnel where I copped it afore they brought me back to work the pit again, an’ they dare call me a traitor to me country.’
     
    ‘There’ll be a fight come May, you mark my words, an’ that Baldwin sittin’ there like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, an’ the other ’un, Churchill, with cigars the size of a bazooka stickin’ out of his gob, they’ll both be at the front of it. Nowt but music hall acts, the pair of ’em.’
     
    ‘Aye, but acts with the power to bring Britain to its knees, man. Don’t forget that. Britain an’ us too, I