on 'im. Only way ter get 'im out before the 'ole lot caved in were ter
take 'is leg orff. If they go on usin' them great machines shakin' everythin'
ter bits up on top like that, sooner or later the sides is gonna cave in on top
o' the men wots diggin' an' 'aulin' down the bottom. Or when we get rains like
we 'ave in Feb'uary, one o' 'em sewers bursts, an' 'oos gonna get the men out
before it floods, eh?" she demanded, her voice high and harsh. "I
know a score o' women like me, 'oose husbands a' lorst arms an' legs ter them
bleedin' tunnels. An' widders as well. Too many o' them damn railways is built
on blood an' bones!"
"There've
always been accidents," Hester said reluctantly. "Is any contractor
especially bad?"
Collard shook
his head angrily, his face dark. "Not as I know. Course there's accidents,
no one's gurnin' about that! Yer do 'ard work, yer take 'ard chances. The
wife's just bellyachin' 'cos it in't easy fer 'er. Is it, Lu? In't no better
bein' a coal miner or seaman, or lots o' other things." He smiled
mirthlessly. "Don't s'pose it's always rum an' cakes bein' a soldier, is
it?" He waited for her answer.
"No,"
she agreed. "What is it, then, that you are concerned about?"
The smile
vanished.
"I'm more'n
concerned, miss, I'm downright scared. They got 'ole lengths o' new sewer
built, an' o' course there's still most o' the old bein' used. Get a couple o'
slides, mud, cave-ins, an' yer got men cut off down there. If yer don't get
drownded, it could be worse-burned."
"Burned?"
"Gas.
There's 'ouse'old gas pipes in 'em sewers as well. Get a shift in the clay an'
one o' them cracks, an' first spark you'll 'ave not only the gas from the
sewage, but back up inter every 'ouse as 'as gaslight. See wot I mean?"
"Yes."
Hester saw only too well. It could be a second Great Fire of London if he was
right. "Surely they've thought of that, too?" They had to have. No
one was irresponsible enough not to foresee such a catastrophe. A few navvies
drowned or suffocated, she could believe. There had been a cave-in when the
crown of the arch of the Fleet sewer had broken. The scaffolding beams had been
flung like matchwood into the air, falling, crashing as the whole structure
subsided and the bottom of the excavation moved like a river, rolling and
crushing and burying.
Sutton was
watching her too. "Yer 'memberin' the Fleet?" he asked.
She was
startled. Of course he had told her about the Fleet River running under London
in the tales his father had told him. Now she knew why. He had described the
whole network of shifting, sliding, seeping, running waters.
"Doesn't
everybody know this?" she said incredulously.
It was Lu
Collard who answered. "Course they do, Miss. But 'oo's gonna say it, eh?
Lose yer job? Then 'oo feeds yer kids?"
Collard shifted
uncomfortably in his imprisoning chair. His face was more wasted with pain than
Hester had appreciated before. He was probably in his mid-thirties. He had been
a good-looking man when he was whole.
"Aw, Andy,
she can see it!" his wife said wearily. "In't no use pre-tendin'.'
That's wot them bastards count on! Everyone so buttoned up wi' pride, nob'dy's
gonna say they're scared o' bein' the next one 'urt."
"Be quiet,
woman!" Collard snapped. "Yer don't know nothin'. Their men
in't-"
"Course
they is!" She turned on him. "They in't stupid! They know it's gonna
'appen one day, an' Gawd knows 'ow many'll get killed. They don't say nothin
'cos they'd sooner get crushed or drownded termorrer than starve terday, an'
let their kids starve! Shut yer eyes, an' wot yer don't see don't 'urt
yer!"
"Yer gotta
live!" he said, looking away from her.
Sutton was
watching Hester, his thin face anxious.
"Of course
you have," Hester answered. "And the new sewers have got to be built.
We can't allow the Great Stink to happen again, or have typhoid and cholera in
the streets as we had before. But no one wants another disaster like the Fleet
take 'is leg orff. If they go on usin' them great machines shakin' everythin'
ter bits up on top like that, sooner or later the sides is gonna cave in on top
o' the men wots diggin' an' 'aulin' down the bottom. Or when we get rains like
we 'ave in Feb'uary, one o' 'em sewers bursts, an' 'oos gonna get the men out
before it floods, eh?" she demanded, her voice high and harsh. "I
know a score o' women like me, 'oose husbands a' lorst arms an' legs ter them
bleedin' tunnels. An' widders as well. Too many o' them damn railways is built
on blood an' bones!"
"There've
always been accidents," Hester said reluctantly. "Is any contractor
especially bad?"
Collard shook
his head angrily, his face dark. "Not as I know. Course there's accidents,
no one's gurnin' about that! Yer do 'ard work, yer take 'ard chances. The
wife's just bellyachin' 'cos it in't easy fer 'er. Is it, Lu? In't no better
bein' a coal miner or seaman, or lots o' other things." He smiled
mirthlessly. "Don't s'pose it's always rum an' cakes bein' a soldier, is
it?" He waited for her answer.
"No,"
she agreed. "What is it, then, that you are concerned about?"
The smile
vanished.
"I'm more'n
concerned, miss, I'm downright scared. They got 'ole lengths o' new sewer
built, an' o' course there's still most o' the old bein' used. Get a couple o'
slides, mud, cave-ins, an' yer got men cut off down there. If yer don't get
drownded, it could be worse-burned."
"Burned?"
"Gas.
There's 'ouse'old gas pipes in 'em sewers as well. Get a shift in the clay an'
one o' them cracks, an' first spark you'll 'ave not only the gas from the
sewage, but back up inter every 'ouse as 'as gaslight. See wot I mean?"
"Yes."
Hester saw only too well. It could be a second Great Fire of London if he was
right. "Surely they've thought of that, too?" They had to have. No
one was irresponsible enough not to foresee such a catastrophe. A few navvies
drowned or suffocated, she could believe. There had been a cave-in when the
crown of the arch of the Fleet sewer had broken. The scaffolding beams had been
flung like matchwood into the air, falling, crashing as the whole structure
subsided and the bottom of the excavation moved like a river, rolling and
crushing and burying.
Sutton was
watching her too. "Yer 'memberin' the Fleet?" he asked.
She was
startled. Of course he had told her about the Fleet River running under London
in the tales his father had told him. Now she knew why. He had described the
whole network of shifting, sliding, seeping, running waters.
"Doesn't
everybody know this?" she said incredulously.
It was Lu
Collard who answered. "Course they do, Miss. But 'oo's gonna say it, eh?
Lose yer job? Then 'oo feeds yer kids?"
Collard shifted
uncomfortably in his imprisoning chair. His face was more wasted with pain than
Hester had appreciated before. He was probably in his mid-thirties. He had been
a good-looking man when he was whole.
"Aw, Andy,
she can see it!" his wife said wearily. "In't no use pre-tendin'.'
That's wot them bastards count on! Everyone so buttoned up wi' pride, nob'dy's
gonna say they're scared o' bein' the next one 'urt."
"Be quiet,
woman!" Collard snapped. "Yer don't know nothin'. Their men
in't-"
"Course
they is!" She turned on him. "They in't stupid! They know it's gonna
'appen one day, an' Gawd knows 'ow many'll get killed. They don't say nothin
'cos they'd sooner get crushed or drownded termorrer than starve terday, an'
let their kids starve! Shut yer eyes, an' wot yer don't see don't 'urt
yer!"
"Yer gotta
live!" he said, looking away from her.
Sutton was
watching Hester, his thin face anxious.
"Of course
you have," Hester answered. "And the new sewers have got to be built.
We can't allow the Great Stink to happen again, or have typhoid and cholera in
the streets as we had before. But no one wants another disaster like the Fleet
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