The Lost Jewels - Kirsty Manning Page 0,11

was surprised to see that in the past week they had razed almost all the walls and floors of the old line of shops, except the cellar.

Her brother had removed his shirt, revealing ribs and sinewy arms. His best friend Danny looked the same, only with sandy hair rather than her brother’s dark Murphy curls. Beside them stood a row of navvies in an assortment of patched overalls, torn shirts and waistcoats and filthy boots. Everyone was bent over, digging through clumps of soil and stone with their picks.

‘Tea break,’ boomed the foreman from the lip of the cellar, just a few feet from where Essie stood.

There was collective sigh of relief as tools were dropped, and men tried to straighten backs bent stiff from hours of toil.

Essie looked across to the foreman, noticed his thick dark hair, green eyes. He had removed a fob watch from the pocket of his smart waistcoat and was making a show of looking at the time, holding it up to the light.

Freddie waved and walked over to her.

Danny found an old metal bucket, brushed it clean and turned it over to make a seat. ‘Sit, here, Miss Essie.’

‘Thank you, Danny,’ she said as his ears reddened. Essie reached into her pocket and handed her special parcel to Freddie. ‘Lunch—special delivery,’ she joked.

Freddie beamed as he placed the parcel on his lap, carefully unwrapped the newspaper and split the pie into three with his pocketknife. He handed a piece to Essie.

She shook her head.

‘Es, you’ve been working just as hard as me.’

‘You lads split my share. I’ll get another on the way home.’

All three knew she wouldn’t, and Freddie pulled a pained face at the rest of the pie, torn between gobbling it up and forcing his little sister to eat.

‘No fraternising on site, Murphy. Don’t care if it is tea. Y’know the rules,’ a voice boomed over Essie’s shoulder.

Startled, she jumped up and knocked over the bucket.

Standing behind her with his hands on his hips was the foreman. Up close, he was younger than she expected. Perhaps a year or so older than her brother, with neatly combed dark hair and a ribbon of dark freckles over his nose.

‘Sorry, sir. I’m Freddie’s sister. It’s my fault. He didn’t know I was coming. I surprised him with a pie.’

‘A pie!’ He looked bemused. ‘Wouldn’t have picked you to have your sister running your errands, Murphy.’ He glanced over her shoulder at Freddie.

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Back to work, the lot o’ you.’

Danny started to protest. ‘But, sir, it’s only been—’

‘I take it you want a job tomorrow, O’Brien?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then get moving. You too, Murphy.’

The young men walked in single file back into the cellar. Essie could hear them cursing and muttering under their breath.

No doubt the foreman could too. But when he turned back to face her, he was wearing a wide smile. He didn’t run his eyes over her threadbare pinafore or comment on her too-big boots. Instead he extended a hand and said politely, ‘I’m Edward Hepplestone.’ He tilted his head at where Freddie and the navvies were digging. ‘Sorry if I sounded a bit gruff. It’s just that I’m under a bit of pressure to finish this job and move to the next. We’re a few weeks behind, you see?’

‘Esther Murphy,’ she replied, feeling his warmth as she put her small hand into his larger one and he shook it. With his touch, she tilted her chin a fraction, as she imagined a proper lady might.

He smiled—relaxed and easy—and she noticed how the smile reached all the way to his eyes. They stood studying each other in silence for a few beats before the spell was shattered.

‘Sir! Sir!’ called Danny.

‘What is it?’ said Edward, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

Essie stepped sideways so she could see over Edward’s broad shoulder to Danny, who was shouting and waving his arms.

Freddie dropped his pick and reached down to pull out a clump of dirt bigger than his head.

Essie swallowed and blinked, not trusting what she saw.

When she looked again, Freddie was holding his find above his head. Dripping like water from the soil were loops of gold chains, giant green stones, cameos, some buttons and rings, a gush of sparkling coloured gemstones and what looked from a distance to be some small jewelled silver hooks.

The navvies tossed their picks and shovels aside and clambered across to Freddie from their section in the cellar, rubbing their hands together and craning their necks over the man in front of