Brown The Porter's Wife

1. Auflage 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62287-504-7
Verlag: First Edition Design Publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Wasserzeichen (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 100 Seiten

In 1901, Manchester, England, is a place of utter despair, where hunger, filth, and disease are inescapable, and the line between subsistence and outright poverty frighteningly thin. After the death of her beloved husband, Thomas, Sarah and her five children fight to survive in this heartless and unforgiving world.But survival comes at a cost. The emotional walls that Sarah builds around her are as thick as the smoke that chokes the dark Manchester sky. Even those that love her most cannot get in. A tragedy forces Sarah to rethink her circumstance, and she makes a decision that will alter the course of her life forever. Sarah and her family leave the grit and grime of Manchester behind and set out on a new path. And while Sarah moves on, she soon realizes that leaving isn’t always letting go. Sarah’s journey is filled with fear and doubt, sorrow and regret, but it leads to a life that is better than Sarah could have ever imagined.The Porter’s Wife is the first in a series of two novels by Lisa Brown that follow the lives of Sarah Berry and her family. It is a poignant tale of sacrifice and the clash between love and blinding pride. It is a celebration of self-discovery and the resiliency of the human spirit.Visit us at: www.lisabrownbooks.comAuthor Bio: www.lisabrownbooks.com

Autoren/Hrsg.

Brown, Lisa

Leseproben

Chapter 1
December 1901
    The light from the oil lamp flickered in the darkness. The flame licked the inside of its glass home, leaving a thickening layer of black. Despite its foe, the light escaped and danced on the walls, bringing them to life in a room that seemed otherwise devoid of it. Sarah sat at the old, wooden table, her eyes fixated on the flame. But she didn’t see it. Her vision blurred to the thoughts she fought so hard to suppress. She breathed the stale air in a slow and methodic rhythm, the empty room echoing with each raspy breath. It had been a fortnight since Thomas left their home for the infirmary. He fought the cough the best he could, but his strength was stolen by an enemy he could no longer fight. He had fought the same enemy four months past and had emerged victorious. But this time was different and Sarah knew it. For Thomas, every breath he took felt like it could be his last. Exhaustion permeated every fibre of his being and its consequence became too much for Thomas to bear. Throughout his thirty-eight years, Thomas Berry had worked with an intensity most were incapable of. Arduous was the common thread that bound them, and despite the difficulty Thomas never lost hope. He never believed the position he found himself in was a matter of fate, but one of a temporary nature that divine providence would guide him beyond when God was good and ready. And he hoped God would be ready soon. Thomas longed to break free from the physical agony of his work. There were days where he could barely stand up. His elbows and shoulders ached with every movement. The summer months provided some relief, but it was the dreaded winter months, where the cold, damp air seemed to make its home in the deepest parts of Thomas’s joints, that were the worst. As bad as it was, Thomas knew it could be worse. His eldest son, Thomas Samuel, carted away factory waste and sewage for his pay. Some days, Samuel, as he was known, worked throughout the day clearing the factory where his father worked; others he worked through the night clearing midden from the courtyards outside the factory worker’s homes. The pay was poor and the work unimaginable, but it was work and it meant he could be a man and contribute to the family. So, on one August day in the year prior, a day when the sky was dark and the air filled with an unyielding spray, Thomas set out to improve his circumstances. It was only Wednesday, but Thomas was impeccably dressed in his Sunday best. He was dapper in his dark suit, waistcoat, and dotted tie. His shoes were worn, but the sight of his noble attire concealed any inferiority his shoes betrayed. Thomas appeared as finely dressed as any gentleman, and all because of his wife. Sarah was an extraordinary seamstress and could sew anything with the utmost skill. It was this skill that masked, to the outside world at least, Thomas’s true standing in life. Thomas had worked beyond his duty late into the evening prior, and he committed to doing so the following night as well. It was all to secure some precious daytime to go in search of better work. That he was even able to trade the time for extra work was a testament to his relationship with his supervisor. That type of bartering was unheard of. Thomas lived equidistance from both the Ardwick Station and the London Road Station, both of which would take Thomas to Manchester Central. Leaving from the London Road Station meant one less stop and a lower fare, but that day the London Road Station was blocked by a factory that had burned down days before. Its charred hull was still smouldering and remnants of the walls that once supported the building were now lying haphazardly wherever they had fallen. Firemen worked to snuff out the remaining embers, but time was all that would silence it for good. The London Road Station was a principal railway station in the Manchester area. It was a constant hub of activity, receiving and delivering a flurry of passengers from electric and horse drawn trams on the lower road and from personal carriages and cabs on the upper. The Ardwick Station, in contrast, was no such hub, with only single service going in either direction. On that fateful day, Thomas stood in the mist of the Ardwick Station with his ticket in hand. A dozen or so people stood alongside him on the track, destined for some place other than where they were at that moment. And the truth was most people in Ardwick wanted to be somewhere other than where they were at that moment. Thomas mused about the purpose for which they would find themselves in the same place and at the same time as he did. His thoughts gave way to Sarah and his beloved children, and he knew he could not fail them on this bleak day. As the train pulled up to the platform, Thomas felt a burst of nervous excitement. It must have been evident on his face for the usual dull faces that greeted him now bore a look of gratitude for the cheer that his bestowed. The train came to a stop and the doors opened. Only a few passengers disembarked at Ardwick. Most of them were off to London Road and points beyond. A small and neatly uniformed man rushed around helping those that remained. His brow was awash with perspiration and he looked harried and ineffective, despite his best effort. As a matter of course, Thomas remained back, waiting for others to board first. An elderly woman, deep in a struggle with her luggage and handbag, caught Thomas’s attention. Her face was blushed with effort as she bent down and fought for breath. Thomas rushed to her side to assist. Her relief and appreciation were apparent, and she thanked Thomas with the coin that she had reserved for the porter who was nowhere to be found. Bearing witness, the uniformed man rushed to their side to continue to the aid of the woman. He was unaware of who Thomas was and was fearful he was someone who would bring to light the unfortunate circumstance of his kind deed. As the man carried the woman’s luggage onto the train, Thomas followed behind and inquired as to the whereabouts of the porter. Clearly, this man was no porter … a supervisor, perhaps? A deep sigh gave way to a hesitant admission; the porter had abruptly left his post but an hour earlier and it was now vacant. Thomas took full advantage of this unexpected opportunity, disclosing that he was currently on his way to Manchester Central in search of employment. He was able bodied and ready to start working immediately. He assured the man he would be a sterling porter, the best in fact. The supervisor was perplexed by Thomas. He was a fine dressed man, but one in need of employment. Most dressed as finely as Thomas were not. But still, he was in a bind, and he had seen firsthand the gentleman that Thomas was. The supervisor reviewed the rules and expectations. Thomas was given a hat and uniform. He would wear the hat when the next train arrived, but the uniform would have to wait until the following day, until Sarah could tailor it appropriately. So for that day at least, he would be the best dressed porter that Ardwick had ever seen. There was no comparing the joy Thomas felt with his newfound freedom. The previous day he was breaking his back in a factory, and today he was moving freely across the platform, assisting passengers as he saw fit. Throughout the day, Thomas never stopped. He quickly moved from passenger to passenger, helping those who needed his assistance both on and off the train. The supervisor, Mr. Linley, appeared numerous times throughout the day, and he would tip his hat to Thomas as Thomas worked. It wasn’t a complicated job, but one that could be managed to varying degrees of effectiveness. A good porter had to move quickly. He had to be pleasant. He had to be knowledgeable of the routes and local area. In other words, he had to be many things to many people, and all at the same time. The loud whistle and plume of ashen smoke that billowed upwards from the train marked another successful departure, and at six o’clock in the evening it meant the end of Thomas’s first workday at the Ardwick Station. As procedure dictated, Thomas stepped into Mr. Linley’s office to announce his departure. Mr. Linley was a slight man, about three inches shorter than Thomas’s five foot nine inches. He was well groomed and clean shaven. He had a demeanour that was gentler than one would expect in a supervisor, and certainly more so than Thomas was accustomed to. Thomas was grateful for the blessing. Mr. Linley thanked Thomas for his efforts and Thomas assured him that he would be ready on the platform, in full uniform, at the first train’s arrival the next morning. As Thomas left the station, he reflected upon his old job, and how, God willing, he would never have to do anything like that again. But Thomas knew beggars couldn’t be choosers and he had Samuel in mind for his old position. At fourteen, Samuel was a tall and strapping lad. He already stood an inch taller than his father and had broad shoulders and a thick, solid chest. He would be able to do the work with little difficulty, and there was no doubt in Thomas’s mind it would be an improvement for his son. Samuel worked for Mr. Arbuckle,...