The Sweeping Saga Collection: Poppy’s Dilemma, The Dressmaker’s Daughter, The Factory Girl. Nancy Carson

at the thought. ‘Nay, wench.’

      ‘Please, Buttercup,’ she pleaded softly. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you won me. At least I know you’m kind. I know you’d be gentle.’

      ‘Nay, wench,’ he said again, flattered that she had the nerve to say it. ‘Thou wouldn’t want an old bugger like me. Now, thy mother … Now that’d be a different kettle o’ fish. I’m nearer thy mother’s age …’

      ‘Do you like my mother, Buttercup?’

      ‘Oh, I think she’s a fine, plucky woman, Poppy. I can’t say as I’m enamoured o’ the shit heap she sleeps with, though.’

      She giggled. ‘Nor me … But why did you mention Dog Meat?’

      ‘Oh … It’s nothing to do with me really …’

      ‘Tell me …’

      ‘Well, it’s just that he admitted to me this morning how he’d let Jericho have young Minnie Catchpole for the price of a gallon o’ beer.’

      ‘Have her?’

      ‘Aye. Have her. To do as he wanted with her for one night. Dog Meat was desperate for money and Jericho was desperate for a woman. Dog Meat’s always desperate for money, from what I can see of it.’

      ‘And did he? Jericho? Have her, I mean.’

      ‘Oh, aye. The trouble was, the bastard was having her most every other night after it, but not letting on to Dog Meat. They used to go in the tunnel regular for their shenanigans.’

      Poppy was unable to say anything for some seconds, so startled was she by this news. There were so many questions to ask, and she didn’t know which to ask first.

      ‘But it was Jericho wanting to buy thee off Tweedle who started this whole business of the men drawing lots for thee,’ Buttercup explained.

      ‘If Dog Meat took money for Minnie’s favours, Buttercup, that means he sold her for a common whore.’

      ‘Aye, that’s the way I see it, Poppy.’

      ‘Poor Minnie …’

      ‘And yo’ ain’t sore with Minnie for having Jericho?’ he asked. ‘One or two say as how you was sweet on Jericho.’

      ‘I never was, Buttercup. I was only ever sweet on Robert Crawford, the engineer who was teaching me to read and write.’

      Buttercup smiled and his eyes creased in that way which always seemed to enhance his likeableness. ‘I knowed it! And now he’s buggered off, eh? Never mind. Maybe he’ll come back for thee, young Poppy.’

      ‘I’m sure he will. He told me he loved me … For all the good it’ll do me once I’m carrying somebody else’s child.’

      ‘So did he ever tek advantage of thee, young Poppy, this engineer?’

      ‘No, he never took advantage of me, Buttercup, more’s the pity. Robert is too much of a gentleman for that. He said he esteemed me too much.’

      ‘Christ, then he must be a gentleman. He must have meant what he said. I’d stick out for him, if I was thee.’

      ‘Except that with no prospect of escaping that lottery, my future is already sealed.’

      ‘Aye, it’d seem that way,’ Buttercup agreed.

      When she returned to the encampment, Poppy called at Hawthorn Villa hoping to see Minnie. For once, Minnie was in, and Poppy said she wanted to talk to her. The full moon tinselled the dew that settled on the shepherd’s purse, on the thistles, and on the spiders’ webs so intricately engineered in between. Poppy related to Minnie what Buttercup had told her of Dog Meat’s arrangement with Jericho.

      ‘And I thought it was ’cause Jericho loved me,’ Minnie declared ruefully. ‘Lord, what a fool I’ve been.’

      ‘He don’t love anybody but himself, Minnie,’ Poppy consoled. ‘And I wouldn’t have no truck with him any more after that, if I was you.’

      ‘I won’t, I won’t. But it means Dog Meat sold me, Poppy.’ Minnie was visibly annoyed. ‘He sold me for money, as if I was a whore.’

      ‘It’s true.’

      ‘Well, why should he have the money, Poppy, if it’s me what’s doing the work? Oh, I’ll show him. As sure as day’s day, I’ll show him …’

       Chapter 15

      As soon as Tweedle Beak finished work on the day of his lottery draw, 28 September, he changed into his better outfit, reserved for drinking and womanising, and hurried to The Wheatsheaf. Final and important arrangements had to be made. The only patrons there at the time were four miners, blackened with coal dust, who were evidently on their way home from their pit. They paid little attention to Tweedle Beak as he strode up to the bar.

      ‘You’m early,’ Selina, the landlord’s daughter, commented.

      ‘I’ve come to see you, Selina,’ Tweedle replied and raised his eyebrows as if to suggest he was interested in her. ‘Before the others get here.’

      Selina blushed at the implied flattery and became flustered. She was not used to the attention of navvies, except for one lad once when they first became a blight on the area; he’d had a bet with his mates as to who could suffer to seduce the ugliest wench in Dudley one Saturday night.

      ‘Can I pour you a drink?’ she asked.

      ‘A quart o’ your best, Selina,’ he said. ‘And have one yourself.’

      ‘That’s very kind, sir,’ she replied, unable to use his name because she was not sure of it. She picked up a pewter tankard and, while he watched, drew beer into it and placed it before him on the counter.

      Tweedle handed her a sixpence. ‘No, you can keep the change,’ he said, amiably, when she offered him some coppers. ‘I wanted to ask you to do summat for me, young Selina, if you would.’

      ‘If I can, I’ll be happy to oblige.’

      He felt in his trouser pocket and pulled out a half sovereign. ‘This is yourn, Selina, if you’ll do a little task for me, secret like. It’s just between you and me … Understand?’

      ‘I ain’t no blab-mouth,’ Selina said defensively, looking covetously at the half sovereign held between his fingers and noticing his grubby, broken nails. ‘I can keep a secret.’

      ‘That’s partitly what I wanted to hear …’ He grinned at her affably and his long nose drooped in consequence. ‘Later on, when the men have been paid, we’m having a lottery draw—’

      ‘Oh, I heard summat about it. One o’ the navvy wenches is being raffled off, in’t her?’

      He nodded and grinned again, placed the coin on the counter tauntingly, then supped his beer. ‘Word gets around … Any road, this is where you can help, Selina. I want to call on you to come and draw the tickets out o’ the hat.’

      ‘Yes, all right,’ she willingly agreed. ‘I don’t mind.’

      Looking around furtively, he felt in another pocket, showed her a piece of folded paper and leaned towards her. ‘This is the winning ticket. I want you to keep it safe till I ask you to come and do the draw. Then, you must have it hid in your hand, ready. When I ask you to dip your hand in the hat, I want you to pretend as you’ve just pulled out this very piece o’ paper. Understand?’

      Selina nodded uncertainly. ‘So it’s a cheat. The draw is already fixed.’

      ‘Let’s say the winner has already been decided by other means. O’ course, the money’s all going to charity, you know. We just need to make the draw look