The Quality of Mercy - By Barry Unsworth Page 0,42

to lie side by side, and the candles were doused and borne away, all save one. Reedy reaffirmed his eternal gratitude, relieved himself in one of the chamberpots and was soon snoring. Sullivan looped the straps of the cloth bag containing his few possessions over his arm in such a way that no one could detach it or fumble inside it without disturbing him. He did the same with his boots, tying them together and looping them into the handle of the bag. His head was heavy with the gin and sleep came soon to him.

When he awoke, the pale light of morning was coming through the solitary window. The groans and sighs of reluctant awakening came from various parts of the room. His bag and boots were with him still, but when he sat up he discovered that the brass buttons no longer adorned his coat—they had been neatly snipped off. Where the lawyer’s clerk had been there was only an empty space.

11

As Michael Bordon, walking close behind his father, drew nearer to the eye of the pit, he saw, in this first light of day, what looked like stones falling through the sky, and knew this for the plunging flight of peewits, the first of the year, the courtship flight. Because of the mist that lay over the fields he could not watch the recovery from these downward plunges, but he had seen it often enough before, the way they flirted with catastrophe, saving themselves at what seemed the last possible moment, rising again on strong wingbeats.

The sight of the birds did something to uplift his mood, which was somber this morning. It was Saturday; next day he was due to meet Walker in the corner of the big field. He was not afraid of hurt, but he was afraid of losing. He felt now that he had been unwise to force the issue in this way; he had allowed his temper to get the better of him. It might have been possible to ask the overman if his brother could be shifted to another putter. Too late for that now; he could not withdraw from the fight at this late stage, on any pretext at all. If he lost, David would be worse off than ever. He had some advantages: he was very quick in the reflexes of his body, he had good balance and he saw well on both sides. But he was not a natural brawler, and his adversary was two years older and a good deal thicker in the shoulders.

Walker was among the men waiting at the head of the shaft to be winched down, but the two did not look at each other. They had to wait there some minutes for the banksman’s call of all clear. Michael saw the women and girls arrive, a little later than usual. Elsie was among them, and he could see her face and form clearly because of the lamps round the mouth of a new shaft that was being sunk to serve for ventilation; the sinkers were only three feet down, they needed a good light at the surface. The smile she gave him was different from one you might get when passing in the street or talking together among other people. It stayed with him as the banksman’s call came up, as side by side with his father he clutched at the rope and made a loop in which to bind his rig ht thigh, as he secured his grip and took David astraddle over his knees, as they were winched down and the light from the fire bucket overhead slowly faded, leaving them to descend in a darkness relieved only by the flickering light of the candles far below.

Elsie’s face and the movements of her body as she worked came to him intermittently as he toiled through the day. The routine of his work varied little. He had a youth to help him, a little older than his brother. Together they loaded the corves with the coal hacked out by the hewers, together they loaded these onto the wooden sledges, though the heavier part of this fell to the elder—the boy was not yet strong enough to take his full half of the weight. Michael wore thick strips of leather attached to the back of his belt and known to all as bum flaps; with the aid of these he would crouch to get his backside against the loaded corf and heave against it,