Letters From a Patchwork Quilt by Clare Flynn

Author:Clare Flynn [Flynn, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Cranbrook Press
Published: 2015-09-24T05:00:00+00:00

The Tudor Crown was just a few hundred yards from the iron foundries. Its proximity to the works meant there was a constant hammering and pounding from the rolling mill and a foul smell in the air. The terraced houses and the inn were all coated in a thick layer of black grime and dust.

There was one large public bar and a small snug that was rarely patronised. Mr Bellamy was there to welcome Jack, in order to hand over the keys and introduce him to the tap man and his sullen wife, who did the cleaning and cooking. He showed him the cellars, gave him the keys to the spirits cupboard and demonstrated how to change a barrel, then, with a slap on the back, a small advance on his salary to allow for the costs of the removal and a reminder that he was to give away no beer on tick, he left Jack in the hands of the tap man, a short man with a stoop and a perpetual frown, called Bob Mintoe.

The cleaner, Mrs Winnie Mintoe, a surly woman in grey, rarely spoke, except to tell people to get out of her way. She never smiled – occasionally her mouth stretched sideways into a horizontal line, which Jack at first assumed was a forced imitation of a smile, but there was no corresponding change in the expression of her eyes and he soon realised it was some kind of nervous twitch. Bob was not much more garrulous and it was clear why Bellamy had been unable to promote him into the role of landlord. But he knew the trade well enough.

Jack hired a pony and trap and went to collect Mary Ellen and their luggage. She looked around in dismay as they left the respectable tree-lined avenues of large villas and entered the area of high density housing for foundry workers. Her expression was anxious and nervous, as though expecting armed brigands to leap upon them at every corner. Instead there were just filthy children playing in the streets and women hanging their washing out in the back entries.

‘This is a slum. I won’t live here.’ She kicked her heels against the wooden boards of the cart and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. ‘What do you take me for? I’m a lady. I can’t live in a place like this.’

‘We’ll be living in a big house. It will be fine. Don’t worry.’ He gritted his teeth and tried to push away the thought that he’d like to slap her on the mouth.

As soon as they entered the pub the smell of stale beer hit him. He hadn’t noticed it when Bellamy was showing him around. Maybe he only noticed it now because Mary Ellen was standing with her gloved hand clamped over her nose and her face a rictus mask of horror.

The rooms upstairs were larger than their room at Mrs Grainger’s. There was a drawing room and to Mary Ellen’s initial delight there was already a piano installed.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.