‘Oh, yes,’ Minnie laughed, cynically. ‘Then when you both fall off, he’ll look into your eyes while you’m both lying there – you with your frock up round your neck – and ask, “Are you all right, Miss Silk?” then climb right on top of you. His little pego will be up you like a shot, like an eel wriggling up a stream.’
Poppy giggled girlishly. ‘You’ve got a vivid imagination, Min. But I don’t mind if he does. I told you, I really, really like him. I just hope he kisses me to death. Oh, I’d love to kiss them lips of his.’
Minnie whooped with joy. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when you was took with somebody, Poppy Silk.’
‘Nor me neither,’ Poppy answered. ‘But I can’t wait for Wednesday.’
The two girls arrived at The Wheatsheaf. On tiptoe, they peered through the window for sight of Dog Meat. The public house was heaving with those navvies who still had money to spend, as well as black-faced miners from the several pits that were dotted about the area, and iron workers with whom they enjoyed a friendly rivalry. Dog Meat spotted Minnie and Poppy, and went outside to fetch them in.
‘I’ll get yer a glass o’ beer apiece,’ Dog Meat said. ‘Go and talk to Jericho.’
Minnie glanced at Poppy and Poppy saw that Minnie’s face was flushed at the prospect of being with Jericho. Oh, that Minnie fancied Jericho all right.
Jericho was sitting at a cast-iron table, twisting a tankard of beer around with his fingers. He grinned when he saw Minnie, then beamed at Poppy.
‘Who’s this then?’ he said, in his strange accent. His eagerness to know Poppy was evident in his expression.
‘This is my mate Poppy,’ Minnie said.
‘I never seen so many pretty wenches on a job,’ Jericho said with a broad grin. ‘Rare beauties all of ye, and that’s the truth, so ’tis.’
‘Where are you from?’ Poppy asked, also fascinated by his piercing blue eyes.
‘From Chippenham. A good few days’ tramp. Ever been to Chippenham, Poppy?’
‘Not unless the railway runs through it.’
‘The Great Western runs right through it. I’ll take you to Chippenham some fine day. I’ll hire a carriage to take us from the station. A pretty girl like you should be treated like a lady. Nothing less than a carriage and pair would be good enough.’
Poppy smiled reticently, remembering Robert Crawford; inevitably comparing the two men.
‘Have you got a chap, Poppy?’ Jericho asked. ‘If not, I’m just the chap for you. We’d make a fine couple, you and me, eh?’
‘You’re wasting your time trying to butter Poppy up,’ Minnie said jealously, trying to dissuade this new resident away from her friend. ‘She’s already took with one of Treadwell’s engineers. What’s his name, Poppy, did you say?’
‘I didn’t say I was took with him,’ Poppy argued, aware of what Minnie was up to. ‘You said it. Not me.’
‘Only ’cause you am took with him, Poppy.’ Minnie turned to Jericho. ‘Less than ten minutes ago she told me she wouldn’t mind this engineer giving her one – and how she’s meeting him Wednesday and can hardly wait. What did you say his name was?’
Poppy sighed and looked archly at her slender fingers. ‘Robert Crawford.’
‘And he rides one o’ them two-wheeled machines what looks like an ’obby ’orse.’
‘What he built himself,’ Poppy added with pride. ‘’Cept for the wheels.’
‘Well, I can see I got some competition … Still …’ Jericho grinned with supreme confidence. ‘Competition never bothered me afore.’
Later that night, when they had returned to their huts and Poppy was in bed, she heard a commotion outside in the compound. Men’s cheering and jeering voices told her it must be a fight. The sounds of fists slapping against flesh and cracking against bone, the earnest grunts of men in a tussle, confirmed it. She sat up in bed, then threw back the blanket and dragged herself out. She found her slippers in the darkness, put her mantle on over her nightgown, and stepped outside to see who it was. The rain had ceased but mud was everywhere. Silhouetted by the feeble light that fell through the open door of Minnie’s hut, a group of men had gathered, encouraging the two men who were grappling each other. Poppy crept forward to see who was involved but, in the darkness, she could not be certain. She saw Minnie, who had also come out to watch, her head darting from side to side as she tried to see round the shoulders of big men in front of her.
Poppy tugged Minnie’s coat from behind. ‘Who’s fighting?’
‘Jericho and Chimdey Charlie.’
‘What are they fighting over?’
‘A pillow,’ Minnie replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. ‘And look … they’m as naked as the day they was born.’ She put her hand over her mouth in mock shock and giggled joyously. ‘He’s a strapping chap, ain’t he, that Jericho?’
Poppy peered through the crowd and tried to catch a glimpse. ‘They must be mad,’ she uttered, and turned to go.
‘He’s got a tidy doodle on him and no mistake,’ Minnie remarked, her eyes sparkling with the reflected light of oil lamps from the hut. ‘Have you seen it?’
‘No, neither do I want to,’ Poppy answered with pious indignation.
But the fight was taking a decisive turn and Poppy continued watching, her natural curiosity getting the better of her. One of the men was down in the mud, prone, and showed no signs of getting up yet awhile. The victor stood over the loser, the muscles of his back clear and defined like live eels wriggling under his skin. He rubbed his hands together, then gave his victim a final kick between the legs. The men began to disperse, discussing the finer points of the scuffle, acknowledging that the winner was a fine fighter, as strong as an ox. Poppy saw that it was indeed Jericho. She turned her back on him and walked away, but he had seen her and called after her, ignoring Minnie.
‘Did you see me beat that vermin?’ he asked excitedly, breathing hard as he caught up with her. His face was unmarked by the fray; only his body had a patch or two of caking mud stuck to it, matted in the dark hairs of his broad chest.
‘I don’t understand what there was to fight about,’ Poppy said indifferently and walked on, determined not to look at him.
‘That spunkless article had got two pillows and I hadn’t got a one,’ he said, following her. ‘So I lifted it off his bunk and put it on mine. He didn’t take kindly to it, so I offered to fight him for it.’
He walked beside her for a while, unabashed by his nakedness, and grabbed hold of her, twisting her round to face him. ‘Kiss me, Poppy,’ he said and his eyes were intensely penetrating, even in the dimness of the night. He thrust his hands inside her mantle and pulled it open. As he drew her to him she could instantly feel the warmth of his body, hot from his exertion, urgently pressing against hers with only the thin cotton of her nightgown between them. As he sought her lips and found them, she felt him harden almost
