Free The Bobbin Girls by Freda Lightfoot

surprised him, and he had to tense every muscle to hold his resolve not to show any sign of weakness. He took up a safe stance, swung back the axe with every ounce of his strength, and cut into the tree very nearly, but not quite, on the right spot. Roscoe smiled but lifted his eyebrows as if acknowledging a good effort.
    A pair of runaways to be sure, he thought. Some poor soul would be hunting high and low for these childer, no doubt, at this very minute. Wouldn’t he be doing everyone a favour if he packed them off home? But then he’d have to make sure they went, wouldn’t he? See they didn’t wander off getting even more lost, and him being held responsible if they died of starvation, or caught double pneumonia with the damp.
    And if the girl stayed? Tempting morsel, aye, but a mite too tempting mebbe. Wouldn’t she only cause trouble when young Mickey got back? Was she even old enough to be allowed out, let alone dally with his son?
    Yet her virtue and this lad’s lies were none of his concern. He must consider his own interests. He did need more help and the boy showed promise, no doubt about that. Roscoe returned to his chopping. ‘I’ll take you on. The girl is no use to me. Women and bairns I have in plenty.’
    Rob stepped quickly forward. ‘It’s both of us or neither.’
    Dark brows raised in surprise, the axe poised for a moment in mid-air he examined Rob as if he’d grown a second head. Frank Roscoe was not accustomed to having his decisions challenged. Then he set it down with a shout of laughter, though since this added not a touch of warmth to the wizened face it brought no lessening of the tension. ‘Are you in a position to make terms, laddie, on a hungry belly? Where is it you’re going? Where have you sprung from, eh?’
    Alena felt herself go hot and cold all over. The man was far too shrewd for comfort. Before the thought had properly formed in her head, she burst out, ‘I can learn to use an axe too.’
    ‘Can you indeed?’
    ‘Yes. 1 can do anything Rob can do.’
    This seemed to add to his amusement. ‘I doubt you can,’ he said. ‘Rob is it? And what is your name, pretty maid?’
    Alena quaked and felt a cold shiver down her spine, making her feel slightly sick. If he discovered their names, all would be lost. They would be sent home, she was sure of it. But before she could reply, Rob continued with his bargaining.
    ‘I’d say you look to be in need of a strong pair of hands to help you. Alena won’t get in the way, I promise. She’s a good worker.’
    Oh, now you’ve done it, she thought. Now he’s got both our names. And the sickness grew worse.
    Once again the man curved his lips into what seemed like a parody of a smile, though it might have been genuine amusement, she supposed, if somewhat sardonic. He was playing with them, entertained by this diversion they had created. Not an unhandsome man his dark eyes glinted speculatively from beneath narrowed lids as he considered her. Alena worried over what he might be planning.
    ‘Plunged into the forest on a whim, have you? Like many before you. And now you don’t know how to get out of it.’ He fell silent again, rubbing one hand over the rasping bristles of his chin. Who would want to know where they were? he wondered. Somebody must. And mebbe pay for the information?
    ‘You’d say your hands were strong, would you? Well, for your interest, I’ve a boy a year or two older than yourself who helps me here in the forest, though only at the weekends admittedly. He works at the local bobbin mill during the week.’ Frank Roscoe did not miss the quick glance that flashed between them. ‘Cobham Bridge. D’you know it?’
    They shook their heads, saying nothing. But was it relief that had flickered over the girl’s face? They knew of a bobbin mill then. With thirty or more in the Furness district, it was hardly surprising. But which?
    ‘Fine strong lad is Mickey. But you’re right, we could always use a bit more