A Place Called Freedom by Ken Follett Page A

and sweeping floors by candlelight. Lizzie, black with coal dust and almost helpless with fatigue, thanked Jay in a whisper and staggered upstairs. Jay ordered a tub and hot water to be brought to his room then took a bath, scrubbing the coal dust off his skin with a pumice stone.
    In the last forty-eight hours, momentous events had happened in his life: his father had given him a derisory patrimony, his mother had cursed his father, and he had tried to murder his brother—but none of these things occupied his mind. As he lay there he thought about Lizzie. Her impish face appeared before him in the steam from his bath, smiling mischievously, the eyes crinkling in the corners, mocking him, tempting him, daring him. He recalled how she had felt in his arms as he had carried her up the mine shan: she was son and light, and he had pressed her small frame to himself as he climbed the stairs. He wondered if she was thinking about him. She must have called for hot water too: she could hardly go to bed as dirty as she was. He pictured her standing naked in front of her bedroom fire, soaping her body. He wished he could be with her, and take the sponge from her hand, and gently wipe the coal dust from the slopes of her breasts. The thought aroused him, and he sprang out of the bath and rubbed himself dry with a rough towel.
    He did not feel sleepy. He wanted to talk to someone about the night’s adventure, but Lizzie would probably sleep for hours. He thought about his mother. He could trust her. She sometimes pushed him into doing things against his inclination, but she was always on his side.
    He shaved and put on fresh clothes then went along to her room. As he expected she was up, sipping chocolate at her dressing-table while her maid did her hair. She smiled at him. He kissed her and dropped onto a chair. She was pretty, even first thing in the morning, but there was steel in her soul.
    She dismissed her maid. “Why are you up so early?” she asked Jay.
    “I haven’t been to bed. I went down the pit.”
    “With Lizzie Hallim?”
    She was so clever, he thought fondly. She always knew what he was up to. But he did not mind, for she never condemned him. “How did you guess?”
    “It wasn’t difficult. She was itching to go, and she’s the kind of girl who won’t take no for an answer.”
    “We chose a bad day to go down. There was an explosion.”
    “Dear God, are you all right?”
    “Yes—”
    “I’ll send for Dr. Stevenson anyway—”
    “Mother, stop worrying! I was out of the pit by the time it blew. So was Lizzie. I’m just a bit weak in the knees from carrying her all the way up the shaft.”
    Mother calmed down. “What did Lizzie think of it?”
    “She swore she would never allow mining on the Hallim estate.”
    Alicia laughed. “And your father is greedy for her coal. Well, I look forward to witnessing the battle. When Robert is her husband he will have the power to go against her wishes … in theory. We shall see. But how do you think the courtship is progressing?”
    “Flirting isn’t Robert’s strong point, to say the least,” Jay said scornfully.
    “It’s yours, though, isn’t it?” she said indulgently. Jay shrugged.
    “He’s doing his clumsy best.”
    “Perhaps she won’t marry him after all.”
    “I think she will have to.”
    Mother looked shrewdly at him. “Do you know something I don’t?”
    “Lady Hallim is having trouble renewing her mortgages—Father has made sure of it.”
    “Has he! How sly he is.”
    Jay sighed. “She’s a wonderful girl. She’ll be wasted on Robert.”
    Mother put a hand on his knee. “Jay, my sweet boy, she’s not Robert’s yet.”
    “I suppose she might marry someone else.”
    “She might marry you.”
    “Good God, Mother!” Although he had kissed Lizzie he had not got as far as thinking of marriage.
    “You’re in love with her. I can tell.”
    “Love? Is that what this is?”
    “Of course—your eyes light up at the mention of her