Jarrow Trilogy 01 - The Jarrow Lass by Janet MacLeod Trotter

Author:Janet MacLeod Trotter [Trotter, Janet MacLeod]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: MacLeod Trotter Books
Published: 2011-05-22T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Florrie and Albert came over the river for the funeral. It was a quiet affair on a raw December day with no pretence at a wake afterwards. Old McConnell seemed quite to have lost his mind at the sight of young Margaret’s body laid out on the kitchen table and thought it was one of his daughters. Lizzie came home to keep an eye on him and the younger children, but Elizabeth insisted on accompanying her mother to see her favourite sister buried. She would not let Rose out of her sight, her pale face pinched and anxious.

At the graveside, Elizabeth shook with sobs and clung on to her mother’s arm as Margaret’s coffin was levered into the short gaping grave. But Rose’s broad face was expressionless. Her cheeks were purple with cold, and lines of pain marked her colourless mouth, her dark-ringed eyes staring ahead blankly. She had no more tears to cry. She felt as cold and empty as the wintry cemetery in which they stood. A few feet away, the dry stalks of autumn flowers lay like fragile bones beneath the wooden cross on William’s grave. Margaret had put them there on their last visit. The poignant thought made Rose crumble inside.

Oh, Margaret! Why had she left her so soon?

She had a sudden desire to throw herself headlong into the open grave, so painful was the thought of being parted from her eldest daughter for ever. She was stopped by the sound of a muffled moan close by. The priest hesitated in his words. For the first time Rose became aware of the small group of people around her. They were all staring. With a shock she realised that the stifled cry must have come from her.

‘Don’t cry, Mam,’ Elizabeth sobbed at her side. ‘Don’t cry.’

But Rose could not stop the strange strangled sound that rose from the pit of her stomach and shook its way out of her throat as if she were trying to vomit. Maggie took her other arm and held on to her tightly while tearless weeping engulfed her. Only her sister’s grip prevented Rose from buckling at the knees. Then the brief committal was over and Maggie took her by the arm and led her swiftly away.

Florrie and Albert made excuses about having to get back to Wallsend and did not make the muddy trek up to Simonside for the meagre cup of tea and biscuits offered them. On returning, Maggie put Rose straight to bed and told the girls to leave her to rest. The next day Rose did not have the strength to get up and Elizabeth assumed the role of eldest sister and got Sarah and Kate to church on time. All that following week, she did the same, getting the younger ones to school and helping her aunt with the washing and ironing, the way Margaret had always done.

Rose was hardly aware of this as she lay in a twilight world of grief in the icy bedroom.

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