Free The Rope Carrier by Theresa Tomlinson Page B

plenty of our members right angry at this treatment of a good craftsman like Josh. He’s not the only one by a long way.”
    â€œAye,” said the Dame. “I never thought to hear myselfagreeing with Joe Mather, but I start to understand him now.”
    â€œSomething must be done,” said Jem, “but we cannot see what, or how to do it. It seems that every way our hands are tied.”
    All their arguments could not put Netty off, and so she puffed her way up the hill to Pudding Lane jail, trailing behind Minnie, who was loaded with cutting gear, and Jack, who complained all the way at the weight of the lead resting-block.
    It took a while for them to find Josh, such a wild, stinking jumble the whole place was, and they spent a good few of their precious pennies paying for the information.
    They found him at last in the lower court, close to the file-cutting stocks where he’d asked to be, and shackled by the ankle. He was dirty and hollow-eyed but glad to see them, and he and Netty clung together and cried. Minnie and Jack stood by awkwardly, looking hopelessly for space to stack Josh’s food and file blanks in safety. So cramped and crowded it was, that Minnie could scarce stand still without being shoved and grumbled at from all directions. She was desperate to relieve the aching in her arms from carrying Josh’s hammer and chisel and she longed to clamp her hands around her nose, for the smells of miserable humanity were worse than she’d imagined.
    Josh gently pushed Netty away from him and held her at arm’s length.
    â€œTha must never come here again.”
    Netty shook with sobbing.
    Josh turned to Minnie. “Thank you, little sister,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Tha’s brought what I need. Now I can set about my work.”
    He took the stuff they’d brought and stashed it as best he could behind the stocks. A skinny hand reached out at once for the bread. Josh grabbed a loaf and thrust it inside his shirt, then threw the rest towards the beseeching hands.
    He took hold of Netty by the shoulders.
    â€œNever come here again,” he said with anger. “Promise me.”
    This time Netty nodded her head, but she couldn’t say the words.
    â€œGet thee’sen off now. Minnie, take her home.”
    Minnie somehow pulled her sister away and back through the dreadful crowd, leaving Jack to help Josh with his work and gather up the finished files, for anything would be seized upon and stolen if it were left for a moment, such was the desperation there.
    The next weeks were harder than any that had gone before. Each morning Minnie and Jack toiled up the hill to the jail, fetching and carrying whatever was needed. Jack complained bitterly that he might as well be in prison himself, but Minnie told him smartly to hold his tongue and be grateful that he came back to the Eyres’ cottage each night.
    â€œThey’ve stood by thee, daft ’prentice boy. Cannot tha stand by them?”
    Jack hung his head.
    â€œAye,” he said.
    As soon as Minnie had seen the two of them sorted for their work at the prison, she would go back to the cottage for Marianne and the buckets. The water-fetching job was worse than ever for the month was July and there’d been no rain for weeks. It was mid-morning by the time they joined the queues and the hot sun warmed the tempers of those who had to wait. The ’prentice lads whined and fought like puppies, their lips cracked and faces ripe with sores.
    Minnie would often look out for John Bennet, the big man. If he was there, he’d smile and wave, and let her into the queue behind him. None dared to protest.
    Sometimes, as they shuffled slowly towards the trickle ofprecious water, Minnie would let her mind drift away from the noise and squalor, remembering the cave and the clean deep river. This was the growing time. The steep ravine that led to the cave would be lush with the green leaves