

Lily Ennis

### Scarlet Runner

A Novel

For Wayne Kennedy

Scarlet Runner

By Lily Ennis

Copyright 2014 Lily Ennis

Smashwords Edition

This E-Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This E-Book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this E-Book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this E-Book and did not purchase it, or it is not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com (or Amazon, or Barnes & Noble) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Creator: Tugboat Design

Editor: Geoff Page

### About the Author

Lily Ennis lives in Thames, NZ, with her husband, four ginger cats, one Siamese cat and an elderly sulphur crested cockatoo.

You can find Lily at her blog lilyennis.wordpress.com

### Chapter One

Archie stepped off the train cradling baby Thomas in his arms. Little Fanny clung to his coat. The damp cold hadn't been wholly unexpected but now Archie shivered as he looked about him. Everything was grey and black; a stark contrast to the red and blue surroundings he was used to. The train belched its dirty steam into the bleak winter air and the folk waiting on the platform retreated from the gloom inside their dowdy suits.

Suddenly Archie's name rang out and his brother Joe shuffled through the bustle of people to greet him. It was nearly three and a half years since Joe had left Archie in Ballarat to come to the goldfields in Waihi and already he'd lost his sun-kissed complexion. Archie was relieved to see him: it had been a long journey with two little children to look after.

Sybil and the children joined Joe and Sybil relieved Archie of the baby while Beth, Elsie and Darcy clung to her skirts shyly considering Fanny who by now had taken hold of her father's hand.

Joe guided Archie towards the waiting horse and cart. 'It's good to see you again Archie,' he said. 'I can't say I haven't missed you. I'm sorry for your troubles.'

Archie clenched his teeth. It helped him deal with the pain of losing Ann. Since Thomas was born there wasn't a day, an hour, a minute that went by when he didn't think of her; her blazing hazel eyes outshone only by the radiance of her long blonde hair. She'd kept her hair long through all her pregnancies. Archie's solace was that Ann was with their babies that hadn't survived, Charlie and Margaret.

It's been a struggle,' Archie replied. He nodded towards the children. A wee girl needs a mother.' He paused. 'And Thomas.'

They loaded the suitcases onto the cart and climbed aboard. Darcy, Elsie and Beth stared at Archie and the children. Archie wondered what they saw. The girls, at three and four respectively probably didn't remember their uncle but Darcy at eight did. The girls wore huge ribbons in their hair to match their dresses and Darcy wore a flat cloth cap and a well cut tweed suit. Archie noticed his nieces paid more attention to Fanny than himself and she was a little over-awed so nestled closer into Archie's side.

Joe and Sybil sat on the little wooden seat at the front of the cart and baby Thomas was wide-eyed in Sybil's arms, disturbed at the unfamiliar face cooing over him. Joe flicked the reins and the cart jolted.

As they travelled the packed earth road into town Archie recognized the housing of a mining town; the miner's cottage. But they weren't lined up cheek by jowl like in the larger towns he'd known. They were well spaced and often interspersed with single or even double bay villas.

The children already were overcoming their initial shyness and were keen to point out places of interest. As Joe veered to one side of the road Darcy explained.

'The rake's coming,' he announced excitedly. He stood to get a good look at the ore-filled carts as they rolled out of town behind a steam engine. 'It's going to the crushers at Waikino.'

'Thirty eight, thirty nine, forty!' said Darcy as the ore trucks rattled by. The driver blew his whistle incessantly, for at eighty tons there was no stopping as it gathered pace down the gentle incline of Seddon Street.

'Is that right?' said Archie. 'Has it come from your mine Joe?'

Joe relaxed his grip on the reins. 'Aye it has,' he replied.

Archie cast a keen eye over the procession. The pale rock was stacked high in each bucket but none bounced out with the rough ride. It was too valuable to be treated with nonchalance, for the gold, often too small to be seen, was locked inside the ore, tight inside the quartz veins.

As soon as the road was clear they continued a little way along the main street before turning downhill towards Union Street. Sybil had found Archie a miner's cottage to rent and spent a good deal of time making a home out of it for him.

Presently they drew up outside a small wooden bungalow. Archie took Fanny's hand and gave it a squeeze. He at once thought of Ann. He'd been through this before; the children hadn't been born and he and Ann took possession of their first home. It was slightly larger, sturdier and altogether prouder than this modest abode which sat squat on its site, even though it was elevated above the road. He sighed and silently remonstrated with himself. He must put on a positive show for the children, and for Joe. Ann wasn't here now so it was no use wondering what she would think of it, but still he did.

They all jumped down off the cart and the children excitedly ran through the picket fence up to the front verandah. Fanny, caught up in their excitement ran with them. Archie hauled the luggage to the roadside then hesitated. There was smoke coming from the chimney.

Sybil walked ahead of Archie casually explaining the smoke as she went. 'I found you a girl.' She paused at the step to address the children. 'This is Uncle Archie's house now, so don't touch anything.'

Beth wasn't about to be so constricted. 'Can I show Fanny her room?' she asked.

At that moment the door opened and a young woman greeted Sybil with a demure nod of her head. She held the door open for the entourage.

'Hello Mrs. Wright,' she said.

The children piled in, quickly disappearing as they rushed to show Fanny around. Sybil walked straight to the open fire where she stood with her back to it, still clutching baby Thomas. Archie and Joe dropped the suitcases on the floor.

'This is it Archie,' Joe announced. 'It's probably a bit smaller than you're used to but...' He bit his lip as he caught the look in Archie's eye. 'Mary's made bread,' he said.

The smell of newly baked bread permeated through the house. For a moment the silence was uncomfortable. Only two letters had been exchanged between Archie and Joe since Ann died and neither knew how to broach the subject. Archie had tried to keep body and soul together but it had proved impossible to retain his job as mine manager and cope with the children. There had been no time to grieve properly and it wasn't until the ship sailed from Australia that Archie allowed himself the luxury of his own personal grief that came with the loss of Ann.

He was thankful for the children, although for a short time he was bitter with Thomas, blaming him for Ann's never ending bleeding. Mercifully he soon saw Thomas for what he was: Ann's gift to him.

The children were a distraction on the journey, a welcome one. Strangers were quick to approach him and let baby Thomas grasp a finger. They ensured he stayed sensible and didn't go on a bender, as he'd seen many single men do when life shot them a blow.

Thomas murmured and looked around for his dad. Archie didn't hesitate to approach but Sybil cut him off, cradling the baby in a rocking motion.

'It's all right Archie,' she said. 'I do have three of my own and one on the way.' She shot a smile to Joe.

'Oh,' said Archie. He forced a smile. 'You should have said Joe.'

Joe coughed. 'Yes, yes. It's new news, Archie.'

Archie approached Sybil and silently took Thomas who instantly stopped his cringing and smiled.

'Nevertheless,' Archie replied, 'it deserves a drink, does it not?'

Sybil and Joe exchanged glances.

'The town is dry Archie,' said Sybil.

Joe gave Archie a meek look. Archie could see that Joe wanted to say something more about it but he also saw smugness in Sybil's stance. He'd press Joe about it later.

'As I said,' Sybil began, 'I found you a girl to help with the children. Her name is Mary and her father is the mine manager. She will see to the washing and all the meals, but she won't be expected to dish up the evening meal, just prepare it. She will look after Fanny and Thomas during the day.'

Archie was taken aback. The glimpse he'd got of Mary was of a mere slip of a girl; she hardly seemed old enough to take on looking after someone else's children. He gently rocked Thomas in his arms.

'Let's be meeting her then,' he said.

Sybil went to fetch Mary and they returned with tea and hot bread. Mary put the tray on the table then backed away from it threading her loose hair behind her ears as she went. Archie waited for her to realize he was holding the baby when she would no doubt push herself onto him in that air of maternal superiority. But she did no such thing. She held herself proudly though, not as meekly as perhaps Sybil would have liked.

Sybil made introductions and finally Mary complimented Archie on Thomas. 'He is a beautiful boy, Mr. Wright. He has the look of you about him.'

Archie flushed but Mary didn't seem to notice. 'You must call me Archie.'

Mary stepped back from the baby and straightened her dress. 'Oh no, Mr. Wright,' she said. 'I could not. You are my employer.'

'Then I will call you Miss Bell,' Archie replied.

Sybil came to the rescue. 'Perhaps that is best. Miss Bell's father will be your manager Archie.'

She turned to Mary. 'Mr. Wright is a mine manager himself. Joseph managed to find him a position as an engine driver until something more suitable presents itself.'

Joe calmly cast his eyes around the room letting Sybil's words wash over him. He didn't want Mary to feel any more uncomfortable by looking as smug as his wife. She was just so proud of him; that was all. As an accountant he'd been able to provide for Sybil and the children no less than she expected, and that was quite a lot. They'd made a good home here since leaving Ballarat in 1907. Joe enjoyed working for the Waihi Gold Company and as far as Sybil was concerned, he as good as ran it. Joe had only had a quiet word with the stationary engine driver about securing Archie a job. He didn't want his brother working down the mine itself; that would be more than a step backwards. But work was plentiful. Archie could have got himself that job the minute he stepped off the train.

'I've prepared a mutton stew for your tea,' said Mary addressing Archie. 'If that's all for now, I'll leave you and the children to settle in and come back first thing in the morning.'

Sybil started to reply but Archie cut her off. 'That will be all, Miss Bell. Thank you.'

* * *

By late afternoon Archie finally saw his family off with Joe promising that he would be along tomorrow morning. He sighed. In the ten days it had taken to get from Ballarat it felt like the first time he could relax in silence; in fact it was the first time he'd stopped moving. There were no jostling dusty carts, dirty steam engines, rolling seas and creaking rigging. He wasn't going to miss the calls to board or other people's children running around the deck or up and down carriages.

It had grown quite dark inside the cottage. He lit some candles and checked on Thomas who was asleep in a cot. Fanny came out of her room clutching a rag doll to her chest and sucking her thumb.

Archie's heart melted. He wished Ann was here to sweep his little girl into her arms and sit her down in the chair next to the coal range. That was where Fanny would watch Ann prepare the family's meals. Fanny was too young to be helpful and Ann indulged the little girl, letting her lick the wooden spoon and the mixing bowl. There had been lots of mother daughter talk about the coming baby and at three Fanny understood that she had to help her mother look after it.

Archie struggled to make sense of Ann's death for Fanny. The girl asked endless questions which made Archie face it pragmatically. The last two weeks had taken all of Archie's resolve. Fanny and Thomas needed feeding, bathing, changing, putting to bed, keeping an eye on. He hadn't let his guard down.

'What is it sweetie?' Archie asked Fanny.

She ran to her father and Archie crouched to hear her distressed whisper. 'I don't like it here.'

Archie understood. The contrast from Ballarat was startling; the colour of the sky grey instead of blue, the smell of the earth damp not dusty. And then there was the house; modest and dark, and now that they were alone it seemed colder.

There was a distant sound of a muffled explosion. Archie smiled as he drew Fanny into him. 'Hear that honey? That's the mine working – just like back home. Whenever you hear that sound you know that Daddy's right there with you. Just like before.

Fanny was mute and wide-eyed, a little comforted by the familiar sounds of the mine.

'And now,' Archie continued. 'Miss Bell will look after you and Thomas while Daddy works at the mine.' He gulped. 'Just like mummy used to.'

Fanny nodded, still sucking her thumb.

'Miss Bell will need your help with Thomas,' said Archie. 'She doesn't know what Thomas likes does she?'

Fanny shook her head and nuzzled into Archie's neck. 'Will mummy know where we are?'

'Of course sweetie,' Archie replied. 'Mummy is a star in heaven and she's keeping an eye on you and Thomas and me.'

* * *

Archie woke to persistent knocking on the front door and the baby was crying. The room was cold and dark and for a minute he forgot where he was. He groaned as he realised then threw back the covers and dashed to answer the door. He was angry the caller had woken Thomas.

Mary shivered as she stepped inside. 'You haven't got the fire going yet,' she announced.

Archie was affronted and embarrassed at being caught out. 'Do you mind not banging so hard on the door, Miss Bell. You've woken the baby.'

Mary walked straight on through to the kitchen. 'The baby was crying before I knocked on the door Mr. Wright,' she replied. 'One would have thought the cry of your son would have woken you.' She transferred some milk into a bottle. 'I thought I was going to have to break the door down.'

'What time is it?' asked Archie.

Mary tested the milk on her wrist then turned on her heel. 'It's gone past seven.'

Archie watched her take the bottle in to Thomas. She seemed a different girl to yesterday but he was at once comforted with the thought that perhaps she was capable of keeping house after all.

'Why don't you light the fire,' Mary called from the other room.

Archie heard the baby stop crying followed by muffled conversation between Mary and Fanny. He did as he was told. He idly wondered what time Mary had to get up in order to be here so early, and who in her house lit the fire and made the breakfast. He was intrigued by her accent; he hadn't noticed it yesterday. There was a pleasant lilt to her speech and the remnant of a roll on her tongue. It was an accent that told him she'd probably been in the new country since she was a girl, the Scots of home being almost foreign in her ear.

He dressed ready for Joe then joined Fanny at breakfast for porridge. Mary handed Archie a small tin. 'Your lunch,' she stated simply.

Archie tried not to show surprise but he smiled to himself. Sybil had chosen well. He could put his trust in this girl. It was however, news to him that he would be gone the entire day.

Footsteps on the verandah announced Joe's arrival. He knocked lightly then let himself in. 'Only me,' he called. Joe looked at the breakfast scene with approval. 'Settling in Archie?'

'D'ya have time for tea?' asked Archie refreshing his own cup.

'No I don't and neither do you. I've only got the morning off to see you settled and I told Gerald I'd have you there by eight. After that I'll take you to the shafts to show you where you'll work and then you'll have to sign up to the union,' Joe explained. 'Then you'll be all legal for tomorrow.'

Archie put his lunch in his pocket and kissed Fanny on the cheek. 'Daddy's going to the mine now poppet,' he said. 'You be a good girl for Miss Bell.'

* * *

Archie wasn't ready to go home yet, even though he had visions of Thomas crying for him. Besides, he hadn't eaten his lunch and he daren't go back with sandwiches still in his tin. Yesterday hadn't provided much chance to get the measure of the town so, having met his new colleagues and got tomorrow sorted he wandered along the main street. He paused at a shop window. Roberts' Pictures proudly displayed photographs of the scarred landscape of the goldfields as if they were portraits of royalty. Men posed for the camera with appropriate gravity for the record inside tunnels, with the pit ponies and stacked precariously on the poppet heads. There were few women. The pictures did nothing to lift Archie's spirits and he walked on. The narrow timber buildings sat squat on their sites and an industrial pallor hung in the air. There was nothing taller than one storey save for the Rob Roy Hotel which loftily occupied a corner site. Archie sighed. It was criminal that he couldn't wash down his sandwiches with a crisp ale or sit companionably in the bar quietly observing the characters of the town. Joe had reassured him that there was whisky to be had so long as the women didn't find out.

Sybil had stocked the small kitchen already and he assumed Mary would take care of replenishing it. He allowed himself to think of this morning. It was nice to have breakfast made for him and to have the children taken care of. He hadn't realised how tired he was or how hard it had been coping on his own.

When Joe left Ballarat Archie wasn't sure he'd even see him again. But it was better money for Joe as Archie had seen this morning. At the time Archie was managing a gold mine and he and Ann had baby Fanny. Joe wasn't there to comfort Archie and Ann when Charlie and Margaret died in infancy, but he and Ann remained strong. There were plenty of folk suffering the same. It was a fact of life.

Archie approached the stone wall of the Anglican church and sat down to eat. A weak winter sun peeked through dull cloud tricking him into thinking there might be some warmth in it. The air shook with the odd muffled explosion. Along the road up on the hill was the Cornish Pumphouse. Archie listened to the rhythmic pumping as it dewatered the Martha Mine.

As he sat passers-by said good-day and smiled. It was a pleasant surprise and he responded in kind. Ballarat was too big for that. He wondered if he might grow to like this place in time, even call it home.

When he arrived home Mary was in the back chopping vegetables and throwing them into the pot on the range. She paused. 'You're early.'

Archie hung his hat on the chair back as Fanny ran out of her room at the sound of her father's voice. He swooped to pick her up.

'Whoa there little pony,' he said. 'Have you been a good girl for Miss Bell?'

Fanny nodded and toyed with Archie's moustache. He cast a glance to Mary who had resumed chopping but was now smiling.

'Aye,' said Mary. 'She's been a grand wee help to me. We're getting on just fine.'

Archie was relieved to hear it. 'And what about you, Miss Bell? Is everything satisfactory?'

Mary didn't hold back. 'You need some laying hens and a house cow. I don't know why Mrs. Wright didn't get them for you. We all have them around here. It will make it easier for the baby. And you can bring home some candles from the mine tomorrow. That'll be a saving. Everyone uses them. Pink they are.'

Archie was taken aback. 'Surely that's stealing,' he said.

'Surely you're right,' she agreed.

Archie crinkled his brow. The daughter of the mine manager was telling him to steal the company's candles.

'Miss Bell, I don't understand. Your father...'

'My father manages the mine for the company,' Mary interjected. 'Be under no illusion Mr. Wright that he looks after the men in his charge, for he does not.'

Archie saw a deep pain behind her grey eyes. But he was equally hurt that she had a poor opinion of mine managers. He shuddered to think that his colleagues in his long years of mining thought the same.

Mary suddenly realized she'd spoken out of turn. 'Please forgive me. I should not speak against my father.'

Archie didn't want to pry but recognised the sadness in her face. 'I'm sure you have your reasons.'

Mary slowed in her work and Archie could see she deliberated whether to continue the conversation. She put down her knife.

'I was engaged to Charlie Watts,' she said. 'We'd known each other at school and he went into the mine the day he turned fifteen.' She smiled as she recalled the feelings she had for Charlie. 'He was killed at seventeen. He walked into a blast. Someone forgot to board the tunnel to prevent the men entering when they were about to blast.'

Archie set Fanny onto the floor. 'I'm sorry.'

Mary didn't say anything more and Archie didn't know what he could say that would make it all right. He knew there was nothing.

Mary put the lid on the pot and turned to Archie. 'The meat's nearly cooked and the veggies will need an hour. The milk's in the jug for Thomas.' She hung her apron on the back of the door. 'I'll be here at seven tomorrow.'

Archie felt he was being dismissed. He didn't mind. He was surprised at how much he missed the children today and wanted time alone with them. But he called after Mary.

'Miss Bell?'

She hesitated and Archie smiled uncertainly.

'Thank you.'

### Chapter Two

Archie winched the first ore truck of the day up to the surface. Seven shafts spread over Pukewa Spur descending fifteen levels deep into the bowels of the hill. Now called the Martha Hill Mine, the Waihi Gold Company had already recovered peak gold, crushing four million tons of ore in 1909 to yield one million pounds value of gold. It was a heady time and men worked with scant regard to safety as they became engrossed in the fever. Accidents underground were common and men who suffered burns or severed fingers often found themselves working on the surface tallying ore trolleys for the same contract gang that employed them underground.

Thus, most of Archie's colleagues who drove stationary engines had a healthy respect for the work their mining mates did.

Bartie Gilliespie had started out underground. And he loved it. He missed the camaraderie that came with the place. But he had the miner's complaint; phithis. He'd been mining since the age of thirteen, firstly in Ballarat then on the Thames, arriving in Waihi in the early 1900s when mining was waning on the Thames. He had a family to support and two of his lads followed him underground.

Archie could hear Bartie's heavy wheezing. When it warmed up the man should get a bit of relief, but on a cold morning like this the hard silica dust in his lungs seemed to take all his oxygen capacity.

Between them this morning they'd already lowered tens of dozens of workers as well as hay for the horses which were stabled three hundred yards below ground. They were at the notorious milking cow, an area where the quartz was particularly crumbly and therefore dangerous to the men trying to recover it. Bartie's sons, Ted and Cyril were below. Bartie didn't like it and he made it known.

'The company's got no right to be working this area,' he grunted. 'I know they aren't shoring up properly. Got to take extra care in rock like that. I'll be danged if I'm losing my boys in a cave in.'

It seemed to Archie that Bartie preferred to talk about this than do anything about it. He'd been working alongside him for a month and Bartie hadn't changed his tune.

'You've gone to the union with your concerns then,' said Archie, suspecting Bartie had done no such thing. Bartie pretended not to hear.

By lunchtime Archie had hauled up forty truck loads of ore, keeping the engine fed with coal. He reset the thermostat on the boiler for the lull in activity then wandered over to the coal shed to eat his own lunch under cover. He kept a protective ear on the engines which ticked over steadily as a pipe fed fresh air into the mine and another operated a pump to draw water away from the tunnels.

He pictured Bartie's boys underground. He yearned for the freedom he used to enjoy as manager. Some days he would be underground with the men, drinking in the fresh earth smell, caught up in the excitement of a blast. On others he'd be on the surface liaising with engine drivers and tallymen or escorting geologists around the workings. Archie was even comfortable reporting to the mine superintendent, furnishing reports that would eventually be read by the mine owners.

At lunch the men would sit with their backs to the tunnel wall using discarded dynamite boxes to lean on. The candles on the walls provided a poor light. One by one the men would retreat from the light and take a piss against the wall.

Archie cast a critical eye at the sky. It had last rained several days ago and he could feel spring in the air. Certainly the days were getting longer. It wouldn't rain today. There would be no short day.

He was impressed with some of the workers' benefits that he'd so far observed. One of them was a concession to being wet. Sometimes getting wet was unavoidable. In their black wool singlets they would not dry out or warm up, so the company allowed a six hour working day instead of eight: something unheard of in Ballarat. There was a similar allowance for heat: men would work a shortened shift if temperatures exceeded eighty five degrees Fahrenheit. As Archie huddled in the coal shed he wondered if he'd ever see the day.

Too soon lunch was over and work resumed. At four o'clock the men for the second shift assembled to wait their turn for the next available cage to lower them into the mine.

A commotion erupted at Number Two Shaft, about three hundred yards north of Archie. Men shouted and whistles were blown. Some of the men waiting for Archie ran over. William Strawbridge was one of them.

He immediately addressed the engine driver. 'What is it Sam?'

All colour had drained from Sam's face. 'Cage broke,' he barked struggling to catch his breath.

William cussed. His immediate thoughts were the ten men hurtling down into the bowels of the earth at terminal velocity for the cage had every likelihood of dropping the full thirteen hundred feet. If they weren't killed from the landing they'd be injured for sure.

William did a rough head count. There were about one hundred men at the surface; seventy to start their shift and thirty having just finished. That left ten in the cage and another thirty down below.

Sam swept his brow with his cap. 'They've gone right to the bottom,' he muttered.

The men rushed to agree. William called for calm. By now he was angry. This accident was caused by company negligence. Poorly maintained equipment was an ongoing problem. Plenty of men fell down shafts no matter how well they were trained, but in that case the worker endangered only his own life. This was different. A cable had broken or a shackle unclasped because of poor maintenance. William was quick to lay the blame without further investigation.

He assembled a rescue team.

'We don't know yet where the nearest gang is to the men,' he began, 'so we'll go down Number Four Shaft then split up at the different levels until we find them. 'Ted, get a message to Mr. Bell.'

Ted Gilliespie sped off as William led the rescue party over to Archie at Number Four Shaft.

Archie delayed lowering a cage of men.

'Hold it,' William yelled. Then he quickly addressed the crowd. 'The cage fell. I'm taking these men down. Someone send for the doctor.'

The relief of the men was palpable. The worst that could happen was an explosion which in all probability wasn't likely at that late stage of the shift. The second was a cave-in, but if that was going to occur it was more likely in one of the tunnels off the Number Four Shaft. A runaway cage wasn't unheard of. It was a matter of how far it fell. But no matter how far, there was no soft landing.

William spoke with authority and confidence. His broad English accent hinted at his early coal mining days. Archie had met with William to sign up to the union and Archie had instantly recognised that they shared the same ideals.

The rescue party descended the Number Four Shaft, the seriousness of their task etched into their faces. The cage rattled to a stop and the first three men got out and proceeded along the tunnel which flickered with candlelight. The process was repeated twice more.

William had with him Garrick Binnie and Cyril Gilliespie, both of whom were familiar with the layout of the lower tunnels of the Number Two Shaft. They climbed out of the cage at the bottom knowing it was two levels short of the Number Two. They quickly made their way along the tunnel until they located an air shaft which had rough sawn slabs of wood screwed into the wall for foot holds.

Garrick paused. 'Shush.'

In the distance somewhere below them were the plaintive moans. They were close to the shaft and if they'd proceeded towards it they could have shined their light onto the men below.

Garrick scuttled in the opposite direction. 'This way. There's another air shaft.'

It wasn't far along the tunnel and once they found it Cyril yelled encouragement to the men below. By the time they got to the scene some men had escaped the cage and were assisting others. A crowd of workers milled around.

William cut straight to the point. 'Anyone killed?' He held his candle high and played the light over the men.

'No.' It was Floyd Arbury, William's vice-president in the Waihi Trade Union of Workers. 'Buster's caught underneath.'

'Why hasn't somebody got him out?' William didn't wait for an answer. The men still in the cage lay in a dishevelled heap.

'They're injured or unconscious,' Floyd explained. 'Or both.'

William growled, exasperated at the tardiness of the rescue. 'Cyril, lead the men out and then guide the doctor back. I want the men who weren't in the cage to follow Cyril out.' He turned to Floyd. 'Not you.'

Buster's moans turned to gasping pants. 'Can you get this bloody thing off?'

'All right lad,' said William. He started to drag an unconscious man free of the cage. 'Get these men out of here.'

Soon the cage was empty and they tipped it up while William pulled Buster's leg free. The boy screamed. The leg was badly crushed. Floyd wrapped it in his jacket.

'What happened?' William asked Floyd.

'It's the cable,' Floyd answered. 'Look.'

He played the light of the candle over the top of the cage. The shackle was still in tact and a short length of cable was attached. William noted the frayed end and sighed.

'There'll be hell to pay over this,' he said. 'Mark my words.'

It wasn't long before Cyril returned with the doctor and the others from the rescue party. The doctor winced when he saw Buster's leg.

'I don't want to lose my leg, Doc,' Buster gasped.

The doctor held a needle up to the nearest candle and gave it a flick. 'Don't worry about that yet,' he said. 'We'll relieve the pain for the time being.'

He shot a needle into Buster's arm before the boy could object.

'He's all right to move then?' asked William.

The doctor was checking over the remaining men. 'Aye it is.' He shook his head. 'Remarkable.'

'What is?' asked Floyd.

'That the injuries are as slight as they are,' he replied.

'The cage was full,' Floyd explained. 'I guess we absorbed each other's impact.'

The doctor stood to examine Floyd. 'You were in it?'

'I was.'

'Nothing broken?'

'No,' Floyd replied. 'Not me. Leonard though; he complains of a sore chest.

The doctor grumped. 'Which one is Leonard?'

A voice from the floor answered weakly. 'Here.'

The doctor put his stethoscope to Leonard's back. 'Hurt to breathe in?'

Leonard tried. 'Yep,' he gasped.

'If you can walk you'd better get yourself out. If you need to be carried the pain will be unbearable.'

'What is it?' asked William.

'Broken ribs,' the doctor replied.

The doctor packed up his bag. 'Let Leonard get out under his own steam. The rest of the men will require assistance.'

William gave orders to the rescue party and within the hour everyone was back at the surface. The injured were ushered to a waiting cart and taken to hospital.

* * *

Sam Bell cut the engine and walked over to the large crowd assembled at the Number Four Shaft. He had never worked underground and he was the youngest engine driver on the field. Gerald had sent him off to the Waihi School of Mines as soon as he turned fifteen. It was with some trepidation that he went. He suffered from seizures and he'd missed a lot of schooling. But he made good plodding through his exams with barely passable grades.

William held court as he and Floyd addressed the crowd. The ramifications of the accident was not lost on anyone: not only would the next shift not start work until the cable to the cage was repaired but men involved in the accident all belonged to the one contract gang.

As William reassured the men that the union would stand by the miners who found themselves out of work and therefore out of pay, Gerald approached.

'Good of you to come,' said William mockingly.

Sam felt the barb go straight to his father's core as Gerald bristled.

'I've just returned from Waikino, Mr. Strawbridge,' Gerald replied. 'Save your vitriol and tell me what happened.'

'The company refuse to keep the equipment maintained and today a cable failed on a cage. It fell right to the bottom of Number Two Shaft. Ten men were in that cage. Ten men could have died today.'

A murmur washed over the crowd and a few cries of 'hear hear' went up.

Gerald manoeuvred himself alongside William and the crowd quietened.

'I've worked alongside you men for the past six years and I'm proud to say you're the best miners I've worked with.' Gerald let the words sink in. He needed them to see he was on their side. He was. 'You have in William Strawbridge and Floyd Arbury the best union representatives you could hope for.'

William shot Gerald a look of distrust. Gerald continued.

'I agree entirely that the mine owners should set aside more money for maintenance. No one benefits from stopping work and we all suffer when a colleague is harmed. Your union and I will appeal to the owners for better, safer conditions.'

The crowd became vocal. 'What about our shortened shift?' someone yelled. 'They goin' to pay us summit for lost earnings?'

William held up a hand to quell the men. 'You can count on it,' he said firmly.

Floyd looked askance at him. That was a wildly optimistic statement. William must be angrier than he thought.

Gerald took the floor. 'I suggest you all get back to work immediately if you're working the Milking Cow. If you're working Number Two Shaft I'll have six men to make repairs. The rest of you can go home and come back at seven.'

The crowd dispersed. Archie affected the changeover with the new engine driver then joined the small group of men who were in discussion; William, Floyd and Gerald. Archie noticed Sam stand slightly apart from the group, uncomfortable but loyal to his father.

'I'd like to help,' said Archie.

He was met with blank stares.

'In the case for the union,' he explained.

Gerald was the first to shake Archie's hand. 'My daughter tells me you managed a gold mine in Ballarat,' he said for the benefit of the others.

Archie saw the look of surprise on William's face. He felt the need to set the man at ease.

'I was impressed with your speech,' Archie said. 'You're a man of conviction. I suspect we share ideals.'

'Look,' said Gerald with a sense of finality. 'I have to get this mess fixed. We'll talk soon gentlemen.'

Archie also departed leaving William and Floyd for time being in discussion. He was buoyed. He'd made an approach to the union executive, flattered them even. This was just the sort of cause that Archie knew could lift him out of his depressive lonely days.

### Chapter Three

Gerald let himself in the back door. There wasn't a front door; only the entrance into the music academy which fronted the street. Nell lived at the back of the academy.

She wouldn't be expecting him tonight so he sang out as he walked through to the living room. Nell leapt from her chair tossing her embroidery to one side.

'Gerald! What a pleasant surprise.'

Gerald kissed her warmly on the mouth and felt her melt under his embrace. He didn't realise how much he wanted to be lost in his Nellie until this moment. He broke off and let his hands trace her sides before coming to rest on her waist.

'There was an accident,' he said. 'I stayed late.'

'Oh! Gerald,'

'It's all right Nellie,' he replied. 'One crushed leg and a few bumps and bruises.'

He placed a finger on Nell's lips and held her closer. Her lips were warm and soft. She kissed him back.

Nell whispered, 'Do you have time?'

Gerald nodded and led her into the bedroom.

* * *

Fanny opened the door to Sybil and Elsie. The little girl's eyes lit up and she took Elsie's hand then the girls ran off to Fanny's room. Sybil called out. 'It's only me.'

Mary groaned as she hung a nappy on the line. She took a peg out of her mouth. 'I'm out the back,' she shouted.

Sybil appeared at the back door and cast a glance over the washing line. A load of whites and a whole string of nappies as well as Archie's shirts hung above the mud that was the back yard. Vegetable scraps were strewn around and chickens scratched at the remaining tufts of grass. Mary hoisted the line up and hefted the basket to her hip. She let Sybil speak.

'Elsie was dying to see little Thomas,' she explained. 'She's starting to take an interest now. Archie let her hold him at church.' Sybil patted her stomach. 'Elsie was a twin. Did Archie say? Ronnie died at eleven months – pneumonia.'

Mary didn't know. She knew next to nothing of Archie or his brother's family. It wasn't that Archie wasn't forthcoming for Mary found that he could converse on all sorts of topics. But anything personal seemed to remind him of his grief and Mary did not push him.

She continued her work while Sybil prattled on about Archie and finding him a suitable wife. Mary had heard it all before. It made her uncomfortable, for herself and Archie. She felt as though she knew more about Archie than he knew about her which didn't seem fair. Sybil was approving of Ann and lamented trying to find a match that was equal to her. Mary doubted she'd find anyone in a hurry. Archie hadn't yet come to terms with Ann's death and Mary knew it.

Mary gave the copper a stir with a long stick. 'Was there anything else, Mrs. Wright?'

'What do you think about Meg Binnie?' asked Sybil

'The school teacher?'

'She'd be a perfect wife for Archie. Intelligent, good with children. A perfect wife for a mine manager,' Sybil replied smugly.

'But Archie isn't a mine manager,' said Mary.

'Not at the moment dear. It won't be long, I'm sure, before he finds a placement more suited to his talents.'

Mary hadn't noticed that Archie was unhappy doing his present job. 'Have you heard something? About the mines here I mean?'

The town had four mines. The Waihi Goldmining Company employed Mary's father and brother. There had been no talk at home of Gerald moving on. Sybil noticed Mary's concern.

'No of course not,' she answered. 'But if a position came up outside Waihi he'd be a fool not to take it.'

The children's voices filtered outside. Mary pushed past Sybil who hadn't moved off the step. 'Excuse me, Mrs. Wright. I need to check on the children.'

'But what do you think?' Sybil called after her.

'I'm sure I'm no judge of suitability,' Mary replied. 'But last I heard Meg was engaged to Ernie Tucker.'

If Mary faced Sybil she would have observed the disapproving look on Sybil's face.

Sybil huffed. 'Well, I'll just have to look outside Waihi.'

Mary rolled her eyes and paid more attention to her work than was polite until finally Sybil collected Elsie and left.

### Chapter Four

Ian McCardie stamped his feet and blew warmth into his hands as he waited for Archie, William and Floyd to finish their shift. It had taken nearly all day to warm up and now it was cooling down again. He loved working the night shift, especially now that baby Liam was crawling. It meant he could be at work while Isabelle and Liam slept but be awake when they were. And he got to enjoy the sun, which was always a wonder to him coming as he did from Scotland.

A hooter sounded and all over the mine engine drivers hauled cages of workers out of the ground and winched the next lot down. Ian mingled with the men at Number Four Shaft.

'How's young Buster?'

Ian turned to the voice. It belonged to a wiry man with a thick brush moustache. He looked ten years older than Buster but Ian knew it wouldn't be the case. Mining aged a man. He was probably only early twenties.

'He'll keep his leg,' Ian replied.

A small cheer went up.

Soon Ian was joined by William and Floyd. Archie completed the changeover and they all walked over to the timber workshop where the carpenters had finished for the day. It was the only place on site a union meeting could be held. Management wouldn't allow them to meet in their offices and there weren't any bars in town to have a quiet drink and discuss the concerns of the day. Besides, double shifts meant someone had to start work as soon as the meeting finished.

William introduced Archie to Ian. 'Secretary of the Waihi Trade Union of Workers,' he said of Ian.

Ian maintained as much distance as he could while shaking Archie's hand. 'Will tells me you've a background in management. Wouldn't you be better suited to that?'

Archie smiled. The man pulled no punches. 'Not in the foreseeable future. I've a family to support and I guess I've made Waihi my home now. I'll not be moving on.'

Ian carefully studied all the men's faces. He wasn't easy with Archie's background. It smelt of a mole. William came to Archie's rescue.

'He's all right Ian,' said William. 'He's a Wobbly supporter.'

At the mention of the Industrial Workers of the World Ian's face showed surprise and open delight. 'Why didn't you say so? All right then. What do we do about this accident?'

'What do we want to achieve?' asked Archie.

'Better maintained equipment,' Floyd answered.

'And it's not maintained because...'

'Because the company culled the maintenance staff,' Floyd replied.

Archie didn't have to ask why.

Ian explained anyway. 'It all depends on the share price. Before you came we struck the Ten Guineas Crosscut, a very lucrative vein, yielding ten guineas worth of gold bullion to the ton.'

Archie whistled softly. The men nodded as Archie digested the information.

'This put the shares up,' Ian continued, 'but of course it was never going to last. The company put the tighteners on the workers paying contract gangs different rates and of course not re-investing in the mine since everything was being paid out to shareholders.'

Ian looked as if he was about to spit as his face grew red with fury.

'Can we not strike for better conditions?' asked Archie. 'Have you tried that?'

This time it was William who answered. 'Aye. It's been done before but we don't do it lightly. And we've got our hands tied under the Industrial Conciliation and Arbitration Act. It's a farce. If we go into negotiation with the company we're not allowed to strike. It's illegal. They want us to go to arbitration but there's such a bottleneck of cases it could be a year before we're heard. There have been some illegal strikes: in 1906 the Auckland Tramwaymen and in 1907 the Freezing Workers' Union were successful.'

Ian took over. 'The Federation of Labour was established last year to oppose this unjust Act. It takes away the rights of the worker. At the end of the day the worker only has his labour to sell. Therefore, the most powerful tool he has to negotiate with is his labour. If he withdraws his labour the management must listen to his concerns but will easily dismiss the worker knowing that there are plenty more to take his place. If the entire workforce withdraws its labour then the worker is in a position of strength. As I said, the Act is oppressive and a farce. It has to go.'

Archie was well read in the philosophy of unionism. The Wobblies back to 1905 when some American trade union miners banded with socialists to form the Industrial Workers of the World, whose goal it was to promote worker solidarity not through a series of craft unions but as one union for a single industry. Thus strength of union was borne. Their motto was ' _An injury to one is an injury to all._ ' Archie didn't feel fanatic about the Wobblies but more fascinated by their stance and their insistence that the whole means of production would one day be turned on its head.

When Archie left Ballarat he had been aware of a groundswell of industrial revolution, as there was in every industrialised country, but in New Zealand the Federation of Labour had taken the argument to a more regimented level with their links to the Industrial Workers of the World. Some saw the Federation as extreme. As a result the labour movement was rapidly expanding and now gained considerable support from the working class. Archie was intrigued.

It was clear that Ian fiercely upheld the principles of the Wobblies and when the Federation of Labour was established he was instrumental in the Waihi Trade Union of Workers maintaining close links.

William coughed. 'There's only one thing for it. It's time we registered under the Trade Union Act. A strike isn't illegal then.'

Ian nodded. 'I agree. We've been sitting on our hands too long. We can't wait any longer.'

Floyd concurred then went on. 'Archie. Your brother is the company accountant. Can you meet with him unofficially and see how things are financially. Maybe the company is telling the truth. Maybe, just maybe, they can't afford to maintain right now...'

William spluttered. 'They can't afford not to maintain.'

Floyd was insistent. 'But if Archie can get the other side's point of view, that's going to help us isn't it?'

Archie twiddled with the end of his moustache. 'In a way this Arbitration Act is forcing our hand. Let me see what I can do.'

Ian stood and shook Archie's hand. Good luck. I have to go to work.'

Archie called to Ian as Ian headed out the door. 'Do you mind if I come to your next Socialist Party meeting?'

* * *

William and Floyd had little trouble persuading Archie to imbibe in a wee dram before heading home. Joe was right when he'd said there was plenty of whisky to be had. It seemed every second household had a still in the back yard. The trouble was, if you didn't make it yourself you were obliged to buy it from a friend and then drink it with him for you couldn't take it home to drink in front of your wife who was most likely a Temperance campaigner. That left Joe to introduce Archie to his friends which was fine in itself but all Archie really wanted was to have a pleasant whisky by his own fireside after a fair day's work.

It was easy for William to keep a still going: he was a widower and his eldest son Jack, though only twelve, helped monitor the process. The girl who kept house, Margaret, was also pretty reliable, having emigrated from Scotland especially to work for William. She wasn't about to go without.

William lived at the south east of Martha Hill, not exactly on Archie's way home but en-route to Floyd and Clara's. Opposite was the school.

William poured them a drink and they sat at the kitchen table in the fading light. The house was quiet. The children knew to play in the school yard until nearly dark – to give dad a bit of quiet. Margaret had left a pot of stew simmering on the range. William lit a candle and set it in the middle of the table.

'My housekeeper told me to get some of these the day I arrived,' said Archie nodding towards it. 'I keep telling her I don't have access like the miners do.'

Archie asked William how long he'd been a widower and the two men swapped notes.

'Now ol' Floyd here,' said William. 'He's going home to the lovely Clara.'

Floyd knocked back his drink and simply looked pleased. William poured him another.

'We appreciate you coming on board,' William said to Archie. 'You're familiar with union politics?'

Archie briefly explained his philosophy, which wasn't far away from Ian's or William's, or Floyds. How he got to it may have differed but that would keep. He let Will tell his story.

William grew up in the Midwest of England in a depressed little coal mining town. On the edge of the village large estates were protected by game keepers. It was a favourite pastime of Will and his Da to shoot rabbits. It didn't matter whose land the rabbits were on; rabbits belonged to everyone. That's what his Da said. But Will knew right enough that they were on the Portly-Smythe's land and that they shouldn't be caught poaching. In Will's mind the Portly-Smythe's had plenty to eat. There was also deer and trout, so surely they wouldn't mind him and his Da, who didn't have so much to eat, shooting the odd rabbit.

He was wrong. One night they were caught by the gamekeeper who marched them straight up to the big house where the master had to be woken and brought downstairs in his dressing gown. William was so scared he wet himself.

The master was outraged and he ranted and raved about right and wrong and the principles of ownership. William made a fair attempt at getting the master to see his take on ownership, particularly on rabbits. To give the master his due, he listened respectfully thanks in part to William being only eleven at the time. The master found him amusing rather than impertinent.

His Da apologised profusely and they were seen off the property by the gamekeeper. William thought that was the end of it but in later years he learned that his family had paid dearly for being caught. His Da paid that miserable landowner a shilling a week for years so he wouldn't call the police and gaol his Da. That took food off their table. It didn't stop his Da shooting rabbits, just getting caught.

William followed his Da into the mine, just like his brothers before him. That's why he had the miner's cough: too long underground.

The rabbit incident shaped his thinking for life. It was unfair that rich people seemed to want what was theirs and want what was everybody else's. How could anyone own wild rabbits?

The miners always talked about us and them; workers versus employers. He knew he would always be a worker, an us. He didn't have enough schooling to be one of them.

Floyd downed his second drink as the children came inside. 'I'm off lads,' he announced. 'See you tomorrow.'

The children pulled up short at seeing a stranger in the house. Jack, Errol and Catherine wore ruddy complexions and no shoes. William proudly introduced Archie to them. Archie could see that Catherine was the apple of her father's eye and delighted in being so. William seemed to treat Jack and Errol as miners in waiting, almost men but still boys.

'I didn't realise the time,' Archie said flipping his cap on. 'I must be away.'

William saw him out. 'You're very welcome to come again.'

Archie glowed inside, and not just from the drink. 'I might just do that.'

* * *

It had got a lot darker than Archie reckoned, therefore, he was much later than he should be but he didn't hurry. Coal fire smoke hung over the town as the day shift miners ramped up the heat in their cottages to warm the chill air. Archie loved the smell. He picked up a rock of coal and put it in his pocket. There were often bits lying on the road dropped from the cart that delivered it from the coal depot to the mine.

He bought the Waihi Daily Telegraph from a boy in town before walking down the hill to home. Puffs of smoke fluffed out the chimney. He could see a weak light in the back: Mary wouldn't waste money lighting rooms that wouldn't be used.

That was something he appreciated in Mary; she was frugal without being mean. In fact there was a lot to be appreciated in Mary. She was attractive without being beautiful and that was a blessing. He wondered if he would find her beautiful if he wasn't still holding a candle for Ann. Maybe. The children liked her, she kept the house as if she'd done it all her life and she was a reasonable cook to boot. She did talk plainly though if something vexed her. She called a spade a spade. And if he was looking to criticise, the worst he could come up with was she was bossy, in a quiet sort of way.

He let himself in and walked through to the dining room where Mary was feeding Thomas his bottle and Fanny sat drawing at the table. Mary's face looked like thunder and without a word she deposited Thomas and the bottle into Archie's arms.

'Ah,' said Archie. 'Sorry I'm late.'

'Not as sorry as I am, Mr. Wright,' Mary snapped. 'Do you think I have nothing to do when I leave here? Nowhere to go?'

Archie was gobsmacked, his mouth flapping like a fish.

'I'm late for my piano class,' said Mary already heading out the door.

Archie let her go and rocked Thomas. 'Piano class,' he muttered. Then he remembered. Sybil had said that Mary taught piano to Darcy. When she'd asked Mary if she knew of anyone to keep house for Archie, Mary had jumped at the chance herself. Sybil assumed it would be beneath her but the girl insisted. And Sybil hadn't objected, being a mine manager's daughter and of a better class than most domestic help.

He set Thomas down and popped the lump of coal in the firebox. He wasn't pleased with letting Mary down but his mind kept returning to the meeting with the union officials. He was hungry to be involved. Suddenly life became more than just putting food on the table.

* * *

At seven thirty the next morning Mary still had not arrived for work. Archie became convinced that she wouldn't show. He had to get the children's breakfast as well as his own, not to mention get them dressed, make his lunch and clean out the firebox and set the fire afresh. As he did all this he wondered if he paid Mary enough and realised he probably didn't.

At last he heard the latch trip on the front door and in walked Mary.

'Miss Bell,' he blurted out before she had a chance to strip him down. 'Miss Bell, I must apologise for last night. I took you for granted and that is unforgiveable.'

Mary walked through to the kitchen and grabbed her pinny from behind the door. She seemed to be biting her lip. Archie could tell she was still angry.

'Mr. Wright,' she said. 'If your lateness was a matter of business or an accident I might be more forgiving.' She tied the apron strings behind then back again tying off at her waist. 'but don't think I couldn't tell you'd been drinking.'

Archie smiled imperceptibly hoping she didn't notice.

'I see,' he said. 'I was at a union meeting discussing what needs to be done about mine safety.'

Mary's face softened and Archie sensed he'd said the right thing. Her grief for Charlie was still raw.

'And what can be done? What can you do Mr. Wright?'

'I'm getting to grips with this country's legislation and labour laws,' he replied. 'It seems workers have had their rights stripped away by Liberal Government legislation.' Archie became animated, seemingly forgetting that he and Mary were in the middle of an argument. 'The Federation of Labour is aware of this. I need to understand how the different organisations fit together. Ian McCardie tells me that striking is only an option to unions registered under the Trade Union Act. So why hasn't the Waihi Trade Union of Workers deregistered from the old Act and reregistered under that Act?'

Mary washed and dried her hands at the sink. 'How is striking going to help your cause? Do you think the company will compensate for a man's injury or pay out a widow upon a man's death as well as throw money at maintenance crews, especially when the profits are siphoned off to the greedy owners.'

'A man has only his labour to sell,' Archie explained. 'A lone voice will achieve nothing but if a thousand voices stand for the same thing that one man is stronger. For an injury to one is an injury to all.'

Mary nodded. 'I see.'

Archie thought Mary wanted to be more conciliatory but she held her mouth firm, not forgetting that she was mad at him.

'I am one worker,' she finally said. 'I have only one voice. If I strike because you have treated me unfairly, say for example, I work overtime without agreeing to, you will simply replace me.'

'But if you belonged to a union and after all bargaining options were exhausted, you called your colleagues to strike you would likely win,' Archie replied.

'I wish you luck, Mr. Wright,' Mary said. 'I really do.'

Archie was reluctant to leave. 'I am sorry for last night. It won't happen again.'

'Then I won't be late either,' she announced with finality. 'Get yourself off to work. You've left me a mess bigger than a circus to clean up.'

### Chapter Five

William supped on his whisky enjoying the late afternoon sun on the front verandah. Calm settled over the town. Sunday was the only day the mines didn't operate. For one day a week the townsfolk weren't constantly reminded of their bond to the mine with its constant blasting and ore trucks rattling up and down the main street. Even the workers constructing the power transmission line from Horahora to the Waihi Goldmining Company had today off. The only sounds William could hear were the laughs and shrieks of the neighbourhood children, including his own, playing in the school grounds.

He had open the second edition of the Maoriland Worker. As vice president of the Federation of Labour, William was aware of the magazine's beginnings. The Shearers' and Miners' Unions had started it as their mouthpiece and when the Federation formed it was eager to take it over.

Already some miners and Liberal supporters were calling members _Red Feds_. Some thought the Federation was too militant and too closely aligned with the Wobblies. That didn't deter William. In fact it suited his sense of urgency. He already felt as though he was on borrowed time. So many of his friends had succumbed to the miners' complaint and not seen thirty five.

The periodical explained the plight of the worker under the Liberal Government's Industrial Conciliation and Arbitration Act: disputes had to be taken to specially formed conciliation boards and arbitration courts. The system failed to increase wages indexed to the cost of living. It didn't compel employers to pay for all the hours an employee worked and it allowed employers to employ workers at less than agreed rates. Prior to 1905 there were so many unions trying to negotiate that it could be up to a year before they were heard. That year the Act was amended, making strikes and lockouts illegal where the parties were already negotiating and then a further amendment in 1907 increased the penalties for striking illegally. In 1908 the Trade Union Act allowed unions to withdraw from the Arbitration Act and register under the Trade Union Act.

William idly gazed across to the playing fields where the apple trees were just beginning to sprout new leaves. There was nothing in what he read that didn't make sense. It was weeks since Buster's accident and they hadn't made any headway.

His thoughts turned to Archie. What made the man side so fiercely with the worker when he'd been a mine manager for more years than anything else? William's suspicious mind asserted it was a case of know your enemy: that is, when Archie worked as a manager it was his job to keep abreast of legislation and get the feel for any discontentment below ground. Had the worm turned?

As the sun sank lower in the sky William smelt the coal fires of the neighbours. But he was determined to finish reading under the natural light of day. It was too early to go inside and light a candle, even a company one.

There were contributions from miners who articulated their concerns in prose, and advertisements from unions congratulating the Federation on the launch of the Maoriland Worker. Towards the back the Wobblies displayed its charter.

In his mind's eye William saw Sarah smile at him, at his reading. Sarah loved reading, but not him. Sarah couldn't even get him to read the newspaper, but now, he had such a reason to read, to be a part of the revolution. Sarah would be so proud of him for that.

William made a mental note to encourage Archie to write something for the magazine then in the fading light called it a day and went inside.

* * *

Archie soaked up the last of the gravy with mashed potato and politely dabbed at the corners of his mouth with the white linen cloth.

'There's plenty more, Archie,' Sybil cooed. 'Unless you're saving yourself for dessert,' she added with more than a touch of double entendre. She looked opposite Archie at her niece Elizabeth who demurely lowered her glance.

Elizabeth was Sybil's approved future wife of Archie Wright. She'd come down from Auckland to assist Sybil with the children in the school holidays, having stayed a few nights in the mineral spa town of Te Aroha. Archie found Elizabeth attractive enough; her dark hair pulled into a cloud around her face, small red lips and deep chocolate eyes. She had the graces of a debutante. She just wasn't very interesting. She smiled in all the right places, laughed when appropriate and agreed with everything Archie said.

That would never do. Ann had an opinion on most things. It was that he was most attracted to. That, and her magnificent mane of blonde hair that hung down to her waist and whipped his face when they made love.

Archie forced a smile. 'Is it apple crumble I can smell?'

Fanny, Elsie and Beth clapped their hands at the mention of apple crumble and Archie and Joe echoed the same response: 'You'll have to finish your vegetables first,' to which all three crinkled up their noses.

It was weeks since Archie had promised to pump Joe for the true position of the company and Joe had been a harder nut to crack than he imagined. Added to that Sybil was always keen to shut down shop talk while she had a guest staying, which was often.

'It was striking the Ten Guinea Cross Cut that put us under pressure,' Joe took up the conversation again. 'It was a good time to be mining, that's for sure. I don't think we'll ever again see a yield like we did then. The share price sky rocketed.'

'Did you buy any?' asked Archie.

Joe grimaced. 'I did, aye. They went from half a crown to ten pounds.'

'And now?'

'I should have sold them the minute they started falling,' Joe replied. 'But you don't do you? You hold on and cross your fingers it'll recover. But it didn't.'

Sybil cleared her throat. 'Now Joseph, Elizabeth doesn't want to hear your business talk.'

Archie had had enough. He leapt to his feet. 'Then Joe and I will talk in the lounge.'

He strode out of the room leaving Joe to meekly follow. Sybil was outraged, her face flushing to the tips of her ears.

'Well I never!' she exclaimed.

Joe lit both men a pipe and handed one to Archie. 'That was a bit rough, Arch.'

Archie took a couple of puffs. 'I'm not a puppet for her pleasure. Look, I don't mind if she's got you by the balls. You might like it for all I care. But she's not the maker of my life.'

He stood on the hearth staring into the blazing fire. Where does she get these blasted women? I don't want one. And, if and when I do, I'll choose my own.'

He turned to face Joe. 'You realise she's a dreadful snob? A spoiled snob. Was she spoiled before you met her Joe or after? Her whole life revolves around your company status. Try saying no to her sometime Joe and see what happens.'

'Is that it?' asked Joe calmly.

Archie turned back to the fire. He let its warmth calm him and smiled wryly at Joe.

'Well I could hardly say that to Sybil now could I? Sorry for speaking out of turn.'

Joe sat in the fireside chair sucking the end of the pipe, seemingly digesting Archie's words. It was a revelation to him that an outsider should judge their marriage so. If that's what Archie saw, that's what everyone saw. Of course Sybil hadn't worked a day in her life; not for money. Her duty was to her family. She was a caring mother to their children and a wife Joseph could be proud of. Beyond that she was a woman of some standing in the town.

'Look, Joe,' Archie continued in a conciliatory tone. 'I know I can trust you not to speak freely.' He inhaled deeply on the pipe as he assessed Joe's surprise. 'The union is sitting on its hands over this latest accident. Unions up and down the country don't know which way is up at the moment. We're hesitant to enter negotiations for fear we end up deadlocked where the only way forward would be to strike.'

Joe nodded. 'What will they ask for?'

'Buster's compensation and all the down time from the men in the cage who had to have time off as well as the two hours pay for the hundred men who couldn't start their shift on time.'

Archie stared hard at Joe.

'That's only the start,' Archie continued. 'We've got to make it a safer mine to work in Joe. You know how often men are hurt, maimed and killed. For what? A miserable two pounds eight shillings, barely enough to feed and clothe a family. That's something your wife should be fighting for. There's thousands of men in mines in this town putting their life on the line every day for less than half what you bring home.'

'You're not telling me anything I don't know,' Joe agreed. 'I can tell you that negotiations would be protracted. There just isn't enough money to meet all those demands.'

At last Archie heard it from the horse's mouth. 'Some of them?'

Joe toyed with the end of his moustache and slowly shook his head. 'The men in the accident won't get compensation. It would set a financially irresponsible precedent. The equipment could be checked over and a cost estimate done.'

It wasn't what Archie wanted to hear but it was exactly what he expected. Joe was on a roll so Archie pressed on.

'What do you know about the company paying the gangs different contract rates?' he asked.

Joe was shocked. 'What do you mean?'

'Why do they do it?'

'It's a free market Archie. It's up to the contractor to negotiate the best rate he can.'

'More like a divide and rule tactic Joe,' Archie replied angrily. 'Lone voices don't make waves.'

'And if all the contractors held out together for the same rate the company could be screwed to the wall Arch. Isn't it better that the company keeps employing?'

Archie shook his head. 'But Joe! Employed to risk their lives for barely enough money to feed their families: my family!'

Joe looked shocked.

'Yes man,' Archie hissed. 'Engine drivers don't fare any better and we're under contract rates too so some are on more than me, some less no doubt.'

Joe shifted uneasily in his chair. 'I didn't realise you were short, Arch. I can give you a loan.'

'Oh Joe! That's the last thing I want! You've just shown me that you haven't listened to a word I've said.'

Before Joe could reply Darcy entered the room. 'Mum says you're to come for your apple crumble then after that I'm to give a recital.'

His monotonous tone suggested he wasn't thrilled with the prospect.

Joe thanked the boy. 'Tell your mother we'll be there in a minute.'

He vacated his seat smiling broadly before joining the ladies. 'I appreciate your frankness Archie. Let's not let this come between us.'

* * *

William stamped out his cigarette before entering the carpenter's workshop where Ian, Floyd and Archie waited. They were joined this time by Garrick Binnie who had gained an interest in the union since the cage incident.

William tossed the Maoriland Worker on the table. Ian was the first to pick it up. He quickly scanned each page then broke into a smile. He tapped the page.

'That's mine,' he said.

William grabbed the page and stared at the article. 'You're Rufus Bandwork?' he asked smiling broadly.

'That's me.'

'It's a good piece,' William offered. 'Why'd you keep quiet about it?'

'I wasn't sure they print it,' Ian replied. 'Isabelle had a hand in it.'

William and Ian explained the publication to the others.

'It's our mouthpiece boys,' said Ian. 'I urge you all to read it, and to contribute.' He looked hard at Garrick. 'Even you.'

Garrick broke into a mischievous smile. 'Gimme a break.'

Floyd was keen to start. 'How did you get on Arch?'

'It's worse than we thought,' Archie began. 'I fear the company has nothing to offer. That's not to say that it categorically has no money but the situation is this. Before we struck the Ten Guinea Cross Cut the company shares were half a crown. As soon as the yield increased to ten guineas of bullion to the ton those figures were sent to England as if it was sustainable and the shares sky rocketed to ten pounds. That increased the value of the company but if the gold runs out or the yield decreases the value of the company will plummet. If it goes broke and has to sell the company will still have to pay a percentage to the shareholders.'

The men silently assessed each others' faces. Archie continued.

'Don't worry. The company's not broke and it won't help scaremongering the work force so keep it under your hats. The point is, the company did get a huge injection of capital and as you know the yield today isn't what it was last year.'

Garrick summarised. 'So, the company is sitting on a fortune.'

William agreed. 'Hard to see that it's not.'

'So shouldn't we bargain for our demands sooner rather than later?' asked Floyd.

Archie leaned back in his chair. 'I can see how attractive that is to you,' he said to Floyd. 'But Joe was adamant that right now it's all the company can do just to pay wages.'

The men's faces grew tight and Archie felt their mistrust. He held up a hand before they could protest. 'He felt perhaps money could be freed up for equipment maintenance but that's all. The company is reluctant to go down the compensation route. It would set a precedent for every union in the country.'

Archie got up to leave pocketing the magazine. 'I'll leave you with that information, gentlemen,' he said. 'Our next meeting can address the next step.' He sighed. 'Know your enemy eh?'

* * *

Archie sucked in the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread. He hooked his hat on the hall stand and was hijacked straight away by Fanny.

'How's my little pony?' he said as he hoisted her into his arms.

'I got a new wibbon,' she said touching the giant yellow sash in her hair.

'Yes you have. Who gave it to you?' He knew it would have come from Sybil. He didn't know why he should feel so insulted. A man should be able to buy his own daughter a ribbon for her hair. The fact was he just didn't think of it. Besides, when could he shop for anything? On his only day off the shops were shut.

'Sybil.' It was Mary who answered and she spoke tersely.

'Ah.' Archie sucked in his breath as he nodded. It was a quick double nod that had become familiar to Mary.

Mary took off her apron. 'I believe she has a second cousin for you to look over on Sunday.'

Archie's heart sank but he made light of it. 'I do believe Sybil is trying to make you redundant, Miss Bell.'

'She is persistent,' Mary agreed.

'Is she bothering you, coming around here all the time? I can have a word.'

Mary laughed. 'As if one word from you would stop her.' She tucked Thomas' blanket into the sides of the cot. 'She thinks I don't notice but she checks the side board for dust. Once when I was outside hanging washing I looked up to see her opening a kitchen cupboard.'

Archie gasped. 'I don't believe it!'

Mary shrugged. 'Believe what you will.'

'No no,' Archie rushed to reassure her. 'I believe you. What I mean is, how preposterous!'

'It's insulting,' Mary continued. 'I mean, I've been teaching her Darcy piano for three years now and she's trusted me to do a good job.' She paused. 'Better than good actually, for if I was only average she would have replaced me straight away.'

'I've no doubt.'

'Thank you for the offer but any complaint is better coming from me. I don't believe in third party negotiations.'

Archie's eyebrows shot up. Was that a barb at him? Or had her tongue just innocently slipped?

'Miss Bell,' said Archie. 'I would like to go to the pictures this Saturday night.'

Mary was surprised.

'I could ask Sybil and Joe to take the children for an hour or two...'

Mary cut him off. 'But seeing Sybil any more than the obligatory Sunday dinner is a bit much.'

Archie smiled coyly. 'Something like that.'

'Would you like me to?' asked Mary. 'In fact, I could take them home with me for their tea. Give you a bit of quiet. My mother would love to have them at home for a while.'

'Oh. Miss Bell! I couldn't ask you,' replied Archie. 'You have plenty to do. I take up enough of your time.'

'You'd pay me,' Mary said bluntly.

'In that case I accept.'

### Chapter Six

In the days that followed Archie read the Maoriland Worker from cover to cover. Ian's article was written in verse and his nom de plume wasn't lost on Archie. It was powerful writing. Ian displayed a depth of understanding in socialist philosophy that was rare in the trades, and Archie became excited at the prospect of working with Ian more closely.

He was inspired to pick up his pen and on more than one occasion when the children were tucked up in bed for the night he sat at the big table and wrote. It was a pleasant distraction. Ann had been gone six months now and the days didn't seem as long as they did, or as lonely.

That wasn't to say that he didn't miss Ann every minute of every day, for he did. He missed the way they laughed together, he missed her scent on the pillow next to him, he missed the special hold she had over him and her soft round warm body that she would envelop him with.

He wasn't really mad with Sybil anymore. It had become a game. Perhaps one of these days he'd find another Ann and make Sybil a happy woman. But not yet. Not while Ann still had a hold over him.

At last Saturday arrived and as promised Mary took the children away on the understanding that Archie would collect them from Mary's after the pictures. Fanny was an immediate hit with Mary's mother Emily, who saw in the girl her little Emmy, who died at the same age that Fanny was now.

'This is my brother,' Fanny announced proudly. 'He's called Thomas.'

Emily set Thomas on the table in his basket.

'Mary isn't my mother,' Fanny continued. 'My mother died. Daddy says he doesn't want a new mother but I think he does.'

Mary flushed. 'Would you like some hot milk, Fanny? Then we can explore the garden and meet Geraldine the cow.'

The little girl nodded and sat at the table expectantly while Emily and Mary waited on her. Fanny carefully clutched the cup with both hands and sipped her milk, wiping the moustache with the back of her hand after each sip.

Emily indulged her. 'Why do you think Daddy wants a new mother Fanny?'

'Because sometimes he looks sad,' Fanny replied. She took another drink. 'Mary could be my new mother.'

'Oh Fanny,' Mary gushed. 'I could not!'

Fanny protested. 'But you are just like a mother,' she said. 'My mother had long hair. But yours is nice.'

She smiled at Mary.

'Now, Miss,' Mary announced. 'That's enough fanciful talk. Let's have an adventure before tea time.'

Mary ushered the girl outside saying over her shoulder to Emily, 'I'll try to tire her out.'

The back garden was a wonderland to explore. There were fruit trees, a big vegetable garden, a huge chicken run and a cow that had a long strip of land fenced off for her that ran the full length of the section.

'Geraldine,' called Fanny pointing to the cow. She ran towards it laughing.

'Don't frighten Geraldine,' called Mary chuckling at the girl's delight.

Geraldine swung her great head slowly around at the noise and lowered her chocolate eyes. But she was not in a mood to be petted by such small unpredictable hands.

Mary crouched alongside Fanny. 'We need to be gentle around Geraldine. See how she looks at us? We have to show her that she can trust us.'

Fanny held her hand out for Geraldine to smell. Her great tongue licked it and Fanny shrieked causing Geraldine to bolt. The action excited Fanny and she ran off around the yard ducking behind this tree and that. Mary joined in the chase until not Fanny, but she, was quite exhausted.

'Oh, Fanny,' said Mary panting. 'You are too good at playing chase.' She took the girl's hand to go inside. 'Oh my goodness! What a fright you look.'

It was true. Fanny's hands were filthy from swinging around tree trunks, her dress grubby and her new ribbon hung unbowed and limp on her dishevelled hair.

'Never mind,' Mary reassured her. 'We'll soon have you ship shape.'

Gerald met them at the door and Mary knew it must be six o'clock already. He was never home before that on a Saturday even though his shift finished at four. The second shift of course went through until midnight and then the town was quiet for one whole day.

'I heard we had a fairy in the garden,' he said smiling at Fanny.

The girl smiled shyly and clung to Mary.

'The fairy's in a mess,' said Mary. 'Fanny, this is Mr. Bell.'

Mary led Fanny inside. 'She's gone shy. I haven't seen that before.'

Mary cleaned Fanny up as best she could but it wasn't very effective. A cat caught Fanny's eye and the little girl shrieked with glee before giving chase. The cat romped ahead of her then slowed and slunk behind the sofa. Its eyes drew as large as saucers as it looked down at the child. Fanny just couldn't contain herself any longer and she pounced on the tail but she wasn't as quick as the cat which struck out with its paw and scratched her across the face.

Fanny screeched which scared the poor cat into hiding. Clutching her face she stood and cried at the top of her lungs as blood trickled through her fingers.

'Oh lordy!' cried Emily. 'What's going on?'

Everyone rushed to Fanny and the commotion set Thomas off.

'What's her father going to say?' asked Emily.

'Perhaps he won't notice,' Gerald suggested.

Mary pulled the little girl's hand away from her face. 'Oh father!'

Three scratches, red with bobbles of blood, were strewn across Fanny's cheek and nose. It mingled with salty tears and snot then dripped onto her dress.

'Come on sweetheart,' said Mary taking her by the hand once more. 'Let's get you cleaned up before daddy comes.'

Fanny didn't stop howling but when she came out of the bathroom her face had stopped leaking fresh blood and the front of her dress was wet where Mary had cleaned it.

Emily rocked Thomas. 'Stop crying,' she said firmly to Fanny. 'You're upsetting the baby.'

Fanny stopped as quickly as if Emily had thrown a switch. Soon Thomas quietened and Emily ordered Fanny to soothe him. The girl did as she was told and soon forgot that she was in the wars.

* * *

As Archie and William strode up the path to the front door they were met with the sound of piano music. Archie tapped on the door and it was opened by Gerald. It was the first time Archie had come here and he felt a little awkward. Gerald ushered them into the lounge where Mary played the piano and Emily stood alongside singing.

Upon seeing her father Fanny jumped up and rushed into his arms. The music stopped.

'Hey little pony,' Archie said. He stroked her blonde hair off her face. 'What's happened?'

Fanny's face cracked into a cry, disturbing the scratch and causing it to bleed again.

'She got the cat's tail,' Mary explained standing to greet the men, 'and the cat got its revenge.'

She suddenly remembered her manners. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Wright. You haven't met my mother.'

Archie took Emily's hand. 'Mrs. Bell.'

Archie introduced William then cast a critical eye over Fanny.

'I must explain,' said Mary picking up Thomas. 'We had a lovely adventure in the back garden and Fanny got a little dirty. I'm sorry about the dress Mr. Wright. I'll have it looking as good as new again.'

Archie clenched his teeth. He had expected more of Miss Bell. It was a terrible shock to see Fanny like this. Why, the child had only been gone from home a few hours. And she supposedly had two supervisors instead of the usual one.

'Yes, I'm sure you will,' Archie replied.

Mary tucked Thomas into the perambulator and Archie sat Fanny on the little seat he'd built to go across it.

'I'll see you Monday then Mr. Wright,' Mary said with the hint of a question in her voice.

Archie tipped his hat. 'Goodnight Miss Bell, Gerald, Emily.'

He barely spoke all the way home. William was still in good spirits after the pictures and didn't comment on Fanny's dishevelled and battered appearance at all. Archie wondered if he was making a mountain out of a molehill.

* * *

Archie was still fuming the next day. He had a good mind to openly court Sybil's latest introduction. That would show Miss Bell! The girl needs a mother not a housekeeper. How could he expect paid help to care for his children the way a mother would, even a step-mother. Indeed, even a step-mother...

Archie pondered the possibilities. Sybil had vetted then introduced no less than six girls to Archie since his arrival. This was no mean feat as men outnumbered women by ten percent. She had brought them to Waihi from as far afield as Wellington. For his part he had been charming to every one of them, encouraging to none. Yet he conceded any one of them might have made him a fine wife.

What had this to do with being annoyed with Mary? Perhaps he expected too much of her. Sybil was quick to criticise her. Every Sunday she had some complaint, but not too serious or it would reflect badly on Sybil.

Mary was pleasant to have in the house. She was good at keeping house. The children liked her. Yes, the children liked her. That was why he was so disappointed in her. The children liked her and she had let them down.

* * *

Mary groaned as she scrambled up off the floor. It was hot work already at seven in the morning clearing out the ashes from the day before and lighting the fire for breakfast. Her sleeves were rolled up exposing lightly freckled skin.

Archie entered the room and threw the union magazine on the table to read as he ate.

'Good morning Miss Bell,' he said. 'Porridge again I see.'

Mary bristled. She couldn't tell whether his tone was desultory or mocking. She ignored it and dished up.

'I've been offered a box of Christmas plums,' said Mary. 'I thought I would bottle some for you today.'

Archie's mouth watered at the mention of it. 'That's very kind. Thank you.'

Mary got the children up and dressed then made Archie's lunch, by which time the mantle clock chimed quarter to.

Archie jolted snapping his magazine closed. 'That's me,' he announced. 'I'm off.'

Mary's day didn't stay quiet for long. Sybil arrived, alone, for little Elsie had had a birthday recently and was now at school. Fanny missed her cousin dreadfully.

Mary was up to her elbows in plums in the small galley kitchen. She cursed. It was clear a man designed it for a man would never design such an ineffective space for himself to work in. The back door was wide open as was the small window above the sink bench but still the temperature was about thirty degrees. Mary constantly mopped her brow to prevent drips of sweat escaping into the stewing plums.

She heard Sybil call out. 'Only me.'

'In the kitchen,' Mary yelled back.

Sybil stood at the kitchen door, her pregnancy well advanced.

'I'll be candid, Mary,' Sybil said as one hand slowly rubbed her bump in a circular motion. 'I'm worried that Archie is being too particular in choosing a wife.'

Mary paused her stirring and forced a smile before turning to Sybil. 'A wife?' she asked.

'Oh come on, girl,' Sybil snapped. 'He needs a wife and you are putting him off.'

'That's preposterous!' exclaimed Mary. 'How could I, the paid help, possibly influence Mr. Wright?'

Mary hovered the wooden spoon over the floor which splattered purple spots of plum onto it.

'Oh!' Mary swooped to clean up the mess. 'You flatter me, Mrs. Wright, if you think I have any influence over Archie. I mean, Mr. Wright.'

Sybil smirked at Mary's slip up. 'Then why does he refuse every girl I have introduced him to? I want him to settle down properly before I have this baby.'

Mary planted her feet firmly and waved the spoon in front of her. 'Mrs. Wright, I have endured no end of criticism from you and I have ignored it to keep the peace in this house and also yours. Don't look surprised. I know it's Archie you go running to if I forget to scrub under the table or leave the chickens' scraps for the flies to lay their maggots in. He lets me know my failings and I'm quite sure he wouldn't notice without them being pointed out by you.' She punctuated the air with the spoon.

Sybil floundered like a fish as Mary continued her tirade.

'Save it,' she said. 'I haven't finished. Why don't you ask Archie what he wants. I'll warrant it's not a new wife. Lordy! He hasn't got over the old one.'

Mary stepped forward into Sybil so the woman was forced to retreat. 'It's one thing to be criticised justly, and I'm not saying I don't get it wrong sometimes, but it really is quite another to accuse me unjustly. How am I supposed to be putting Mr. Wright off your girls?'

Sybil retreated to a chair at the table. She fanned herself with her hand. 'Oh, I'm overcome with the heat,' she gasped.

Mary exhaled loudly and returned to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. She set it before Sybil and sat down.

'Mrs. Wright,' Mary said in her usual gentle voice. 'Why don't we blame this silliness on your pregnancy and the heat.' She smiled at Sybil.

Sybil wasn't used to not getting her own way. Likely she had retreated hastily from the confrontation to give her time to formulate a reply. What Mary said made sense. Sybil had taken Archie on as a project. She'd had a lot of freedom planning and effecting introductions to no satisfactory conclusion. In her mind it was unacceptable that she should expend so much energy on an unsuccessful project.

Mary saw a different woman before her. Sybil was the older and stronger woman and Mary had always respected that. But she sat in front of her now wrung out, perhaps by this latest baby, perhaps by the heat, probably both. Underneath her wide-brimmed hat her face was flushed and her dark hair, where it had escaped, clung limply to her face. Mary noticed a slight tremor as Sybil held the glass to her lips.

'I fear you are right, Miss Bell,' she said. 'I made a mistake.' Sybil smiled tightly silently asking Mary's forgiveness. 'It must be as you say. This humidity is making things difficult for me.' She patted her stomach again. 'Making me say silly things.'

'Then let's say no more about it,' said Mary.

Sybil got up to leave, swishing her skirt around her ankles. She hesitated. 'He needs a wife.'

After the woman left and Mary got back to her bottling she idly wondered how much Sybil was play acting and how much was genuine. She had felt genuinely conciliatory toward Sybil until Sybil couldn't resist that final remark. It stuck in Mary's craw, firstly for the selfishness behind the words that implied Sybil hadn't finished working on her project, but also for the words themselves. That was what she found perplexing. It mattered not a jot to her that Archie should find a wife. He should have a wife of course; one of his own choosing. It was not her business. She was paid to keep his house and look after his children. She wasn't paid to voice her opinion even if she had one.

She popped a plum into her mouth and stood at the door that overlooked the back yard where Fanny played barefoot in the vegetable garden. Could it be she felt the tiniest bit possessive of Mr. Wright? It was natural surely when he let her into his house, noticed his unique scent on his sheets and his clothes. She was close to him in a way that no other woman was. She liked that. And it did pull her heartstrings ever so slightly when she thought she might be usurped.

Mary didn't hear Archie come home and she startled when he surprised her, gagging on a plum stone. She panicked as she gasped for breath, sucking air in and in again but not able to let it out.

'Jesus, Mary and Joseph!' Archie exclaimed. He thumped Mary on the back like she'd never been hit in her life and the stone flew out her mouth landing on the floor. She gasped and reeled back unsteadily on her feet. Archie took hold and sat her at the table. For the minute Mary enjoyed the delicious free air. She wasn't about to waste it on words. It didn't last however.

'What on earth did you do that for?' she yelled.

'What?'

'Scaring me like that! Sneaking up on me!'

Archie was taken aback. There was no humour in her voice.

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I didn't mean to startle you. I wasn't sneaking.'

He left Mary to compose herself and went outside to Fanny. They returned holding hands, Fanny with dusty feet and hands and a ribbon as big as her head that refused to stay in a bow. Her little dress hung limp in the damp air.

Mary went to get up but Archie caught her. 'Stay seated, Miss Bell, if you wouldn't mind,' he said. 'I've been meaning to bring this up.'

'What is it?'

'No shoes again.'

Mary looked at Fanny's feet. 'That's correct.'

'Miss Bell, there are many things I've overlooked and perhaps come to live with in the transition from one country to another but I simply do not like Fanny playing outside without her shoes.'

Mary laughed. She'd very nearly died of asphyxiation after taking on his formidable sister-in-law in defence of his right to choose his own wife, if and when he judged the time to be right, and he stands there talking about a child playing in her own yard without shoes.

'What is it?' asked Archie.

Mary shook her head. 'No, no, Mr. Wright. I'm sorry. I'm still recovering.' She frowned. 'Is there a problem?'

'I must insist that the child is properly shod before going outside to play.'

The man spoke as though Fanny was a horse! 'Why?' asked Mary.

Archie squeezed his mouth tight. The woman was impertinent. 'Because I wish it,' he answered simply.

Mary quickly leapt to her feet and hauled the hem of her skirt above her ankle boots. 'So she can look like this in the middle of a Waihi summer? This isn't the worst our summer gets, Mr. Wright. Just wait until February. She's a child! She's got the rest of her life to be trussed up like a chicken ready for the table.'

Archie was amused and he felt his face soften and his eyes brighten as Mary gave him a glimpse of white leg as she swished her petticoat aside.

'In this country,' Mary continued, 'we don't have snakes or spiders or scorpions. In this country we let our children run around outside without shoes because it is safe. In this country we let our children go to school without shoes in defiance of old country impositions.'

Mary slipped off her apron and picked up her basket. 'I'm sorry you don't like it.' She held her chin firmly up and fiercely held Archie's gaze. 'I've had as much of the Wright family as I can take. I'll work out the week.'

Archie was gobsmacked. 'But, but...'

'You can spend your Christmas break finding a replacement,' Mary said. 'I'm sure Sybil will help.'

Stunned, Archie let her go. How did it escalate to that? She hadn't even waited for him to digest what she said. She made sense, explained the ways of this new country. She wasn't to know whether her argument was even going to be successful.

'What's the matter, Daddy?' asked Fanny.

'Miss Bell is going to take a holiday,' he said.

'Do I have to wear shoes?'

Archie picked up his little pony. 'No darling. Not if Miss Bell says you don't. He tweaked her little nose softly and she laughed. Archie did not.

Part Two April 1912

### Chapter Seven

The boys scrambled up the rope ladder then Jack hurriedly hauled it inside the tree hut. Catherine sulked but only after she threw stones at them. The stones pelted the roof and side and bounced back down at her. She picked up the same ones and threw them again. The boys whispered, giggling at their cleverness. She would soon get bored with her game, especially if they ignored her. She did. The boys peeked through the slatted timber at Catherine scuffing the ground angrily with her boots as she retreated inside the house.

Jack and Errol were pleased with themselves. Sisters did not belong in tree houses. Everyone knew that. Percy played the game of course but as he didn't have a little sister he felt a little for Catherine whose bottom lip dropped and threatened to quiver when they were mean to her.

'She's all right,' Jack assured Percy. 'She knows full well this is boys only.'

Jack, Errol and Percy built the tree hut last year in the plum tree at the front of the Strawbridge's. They'd had to butcher a couple of branches to make room. It had a window from which the main street and surrounding housing could be seen. In fact as the crow flies it was directly behind the Miners' Union Hall on Seddon Street and if you looked to the side of the where Jack's street met the main road you could see the rake of ore trucks rattling through.

That was the best; when the rakes went through. In summer they'd run down to Seddon Street to watch and count them. In winter it was more comfortable to observe through the leafless branches of the tree.

The boys leaned against a wall, their knees bent and their feet all meeting in the middle. They bit into apples.

Jack slurped and spoke through apple. 'That was excellent algebra you did today, Perce. Showed Jug-ears.' He laughed and crunched into his apple.

Percy was non-plussed. He shrugged. 'It's easy.'

'It's not,' rebuked Jack. 'Won't need it anyway to go mining. I've never heard Dad talk about algebra.' He enunciated the word slowly, each syllable taking up all the available space in his mouth.

Percy shrugged again. Schooling came easy to him. He had no wish to offend his best friend. He knew that the day Jack turned fifteen he would follow William down the mines. That was only a few months away. Percy had already turned fifteen and try as he might he could not persuade Gerald to let him go into the mines. It didn't seem fair when Gerald had got Sam his job.

Errol concentrated on eating his apple while trying to figure out if he would be more suited to algebra than his brother. It didn't matter one way or the other for if Jack was going into the mines this year then next year he'd follow. He hadn't ever thought it would be any different.

The knock off hooter sounded on the hill behind them. Percy threw his apple core out the window. 'Is your dad having a meeting tonight?'

Jack shrugged. 'Dunno.'

Errol nodded. 'Probably.' It was the first word the boy had spoken and the others looked at him questioningly.

'How do you know?' asked Jack.

'He has lots now,' Errol replied.

The boys reflected on it. Errol was right. It used to be that William was late home only once a month and usually on a Wednesday. But he'd already been late twice and neither was a Wednesday.

Percy threw the rope out the door. 'Oh well. I better get going anyway.'

He scrambled down, slung his satchel over his shoulder and headed down the hill. It was only a short walk along the full commercial length of Seddon Street but there was always something to distract him. Usually it was the banging in the blacksmith's or the stables that drew his attention. This afternoon however, it was the Miners' Union Hall. Percy heard the cry of many voices ring out. He peered through the window. Jack's dad was on the stage with some other men he didn't know. Garrick was on stage too; he'd met him at the stables. It surprised Percy to see him there. The man didn't seem to be in the same league as Jack's dad.

William called for quiet and repeated the resolution. 'In the event that the engine drivers form their proposed union, members of the Waihi Trade Union of Workers will refuse to be lowered by them. We've aired it generously. Now it's time to vote on it,' he said. 'All those in favour say aye.'

A resounding aye rang throughout the hall.

'Against.'

The hall was silent.

'The ayes have it,' William announced.

The crowd cheered.

Percy sped off home past the shops, skirting the Cornish Pumphouse and around the back of the hill where his house was the only one in the short no exit road.

The door slammed behind him.

'Hey!' Emily remonstrated. 'Close it, don't slam it.'

'Sorry,' Percy called automatically.

Sam looked up from the newspaper as Percy ran into the room. Percy didn't give his brother a chance to speak. 'Are you in a new union?' he blurted out.

'No,' Sam replied. 'Why?'

'There's a big meeting in the Miners' Hall. Jack's dad said if you form your own union then the miners will refuse to be lowered by you.'

Emily came in wiping her hands on a cloth. 'What did you say, Percy?'

'I said...'

She cut him off. 'Is it true Sam?'

'No. Well, I don't know. We talked about it that's all.' He almost whined as he spoke.

'You must have done more than talk,' Emily insisted. 'That's a serious action the miners are proposing.'

Emily returned to the kitchen and dismissed Rosa for the day. She had a sense that when Gerald came home there might be some tense exchanges that were best not aired in front of the housekeeper.

It had gone dark and Mary had returned from teaching piano by the time Gerald arrived home. He sensed they'd got wind of it. Percy and Mary bombarded him with questions but Emily fended them off. 'Let your father prepare for dinner and we will discuss this civilly.'

Gerald took his seat at the head of the table. He knew about the meeting of course.

'This town cannot afford a strike,' said Gerald. 'The whole town relies on the income from those mines.'

Emily stopped eating and whispered. 'Strike?'

'Of course,' said Gerald. 'If the men won't be lowered by the engine drivers how can they go to work?'

Now the focus was on Sam. He sorely wished it wasn't. He didn't have the answers they wanted. He just went to work, did his job and came home again. He left work at work. Other people were paid to tell him what to do.

'I already said we only talked. No one said anything about striking,' he said.

Gerald hurrumped. 'They have not thought this through.'

He pushed his plate aside and left the table. He could have done with a drink to sit by the fireside with. As Gerald contemplated the wider implications of tonight's resolution Mary's thoughts turned to Archie for the first time in ages.

* * *

Bartie blocked the entrance to the hall elbowing William back into the street. A small unruly crowd of men spilled onto the road as the engine drivers held a meeting inside.

'It's our hall,' William shouted. 'You men belong to the Waihi Trade Union of Workers, as do every one of these men. You cannot have a separate meeting.'

Shouts erupted. 'You cannot shut out your own union brothers.'

More disgruntled cheers. Then the crowd got techy. Bartie called for reinforcements to help shut the doors. This angered the crowd and they started banging on the windows and doors. The scene attracted onlookers and now there were women swelling the crowd as well.

Meanwhile about twenty engine drivers continued their discussions. Ollie Brewster shouted to be heard.

'We've applied to the Minister of Labour to be registered under the Waihi Engine Drivers and Firemens' Union. We have every confidence that this is legal for the following reason: in each industrial district there is to be only one union of the same kind. We are in the Auckland District. Auckland has the Auckland Engine Drivers' Union but it does not include firemen. On that basis I believe our new union should be and will be registered.'

Archie stood to address the meeting. 'I don't agree that we should disassociate from our present union which is stronger in numbers. Look at us. We are forty two. Our present union has over one thousand. We lose a lot of bargaining power by going it alone.'

'But we're not alone,' Ollie reasoned. 'We will be affiliated to the whole Auckland District Engine Drivers' Union.'

'Besides,' Bartie added. 'Look where the union is heading. It's got more militant since the Federation launched that newspaper. Have you read that stuff? It incites class war if you ask me. I'm not educated like you, Archie, but I know communism when I see it. It doesn't do us any favours.'

Archie raised his eyebrows. That was a big speech from Bartie. The banging outside was relentless and suddenly Archie knew what he should do.

'Gentlemen,' he said tipping his hat and leaving the table. 'Do what you must but I cannot abandon my core philosophy: an injury to one is an injury to all.'

Bartie scoffed.

'Yes, I share that with the International Workers of the World,' said Archie. 'Worker solidarity gentlemen, not worker disparity.' He pointed to the commotion outside. 'You hear that? Do you think those men don't understand solidarity? They do. That's why they are going to such lengths to prevent you from your proposed actions.' He walked towards the door. 'But I can see I am outnumbered.'

Archie let the doors fly open to be nearly crushed by a fierce looking William.

'No, no,' Archie yelled. 'I'm not against you, Will.'

William quietened the mob and Archie addressed the men. 'What's done is done. The new Engine Drivers' Union has applied for registration.'

The men were stunned into silence until someone at the back called, 'What now?'

William turned to face them. 'We will meet here tomorrow to discuss it. As many of you as possible.'

The crowd was slow to disperse and after speaking briefly with William and Floyd, Archie wandered home. He'd hung his hat firmly with the miners even though for nearly two years now he'd been an engine driver. He was surprised to find that he enjoyed it; not as much as managing a mine, but the friendships he'd formed with Will and Ian in particular had made the time in Waihi bearable.

He knew what would happen now of course: the miners' resolution would be enacted. That's what would come out of tomorrow's meeting. It couldn't be clearer. The only technicality was that the union was not registered. It was as yet under consideration to be registered so theoretically was not a separate union. From what Ollie said there was no reason for it not to be registered. It was only a matter of timing.

Archie's thoughts turned to Mary. He wondered who she would side with; her father or her brother. Poor Mary. Her household would be thrown into turmoil. As would plenty of others – Bartie had two boys underground and the lads lived at home. There would be debates in many households tonight, all trying to predict an outcome.

As Archie stepped inside his front gate a thought suddenly dawned on him. How could he have been so blind! His new housekeeper, Mrs. Bracewell, was the wife of an engine driver. He groaned. He didn't have the stomach for it right now. Anyway, no use upsetting everyone before tomorrow's meeting. It might turn out well, or it might not.

* * *

The mass meeting of the Waihi Trade Union of Workers filled the Union Hall to standing room only. The full executive fronted which comprised William as President, Floyd as Vice President, Ian as Secretary, and Garrick on committee.

On the stage was the full executive confidently led by William. Ian, as secretary also appeared relaxed in the charged atmosphere. He clamped down any nerves that threatened to crack his facade and focussed on the issue at hand. He reminded himself that he was in a position to influence these men's decisions today and like as not every man he faced had similar stories to his, but he had a conviction to a groundswell of socialist philosophy that was second to none.

He caught the eye of Garrick who he could see was charged. The man was a good reliable worker but had not had the chance to prove himself in union negotiations. Ian knew that Garrick had in some small part joined to ensure that the pit ponies had some representations, although Garrick wouldn't have voiced it quite so, plus he felt compelled to do something after Buster's accident.

As usual Floyd was calm. He was the perfect vice president for the outgoing William; rational and considered, working quietly to gain the men's confidence.

The meeting aired the actions of the engine drivers and finally resolved: That members of the Miners' Union have ceased work until such time as the members of the Engine Drivers and Workers' Union have rejoined the Miners' Union.

At four o'clock the following day the strike became official when the union executive waited at the winding shafts to instruct men not to go down. By the time the day shift had come up to the surface and the next shift assembled there were a thousand miners milling around. Last to come up were the horses, blinkered so as not to be blinded by the light.

Archie didn't show for work but instead stood by his committee and his stance justified for more than a few men the rightness of the strike. If Archie saw sense in the reason behind it then surely the rest of the engine drivers could be persuaded, after all they were only forty two men and the miners were over a thousand.

Archie's presence at the winding shafts helped lay an air of calm over the site and the miners let the engine drivers be, intimidated nevertheless.

### Chapter Eight

Archie slept fitfully. He knew he would never go back to engine driving now. He had cast his dice and as far as he could see he'd thrown a double six for unity. He wondered if he should have done anything differently to prevent things coming to a head like this. He should have been more persuasive. He was a good negotiator. Why couldn't he make his colleagues see reason? Surely they must realise that craft unionism was not effective.

He tossed and turned. Ann came into his mind. She was not happy. She was worried for the children. He reached across to her pillow and when he found it empty he rolled over and buried his head in it. How he missed her; she would have made this bearable. He suddenly felt very alone.

There was no reason to get up so early today. But he would of course; his inside clock still wanted him to go to work. He lay there a bit longer, his mind replaying everything that had happened. He felt a closeness to the engine drivers that encouraged him to try to talk them around. In fact, he felt duty bound. He almost blamed himself for not being strong enough.

Still no Mrs. Bracewell. That was to be expected. Fanny was old enough now to see Thomas washed and dressed. Archie sighed. She wasn't old enough to see to the coal range or the porridge.

Soon he heard the children stir and he dragged himself out of bed. If Mrs. Bracewell didn't show he had two options: he could stay in with the children or go out with them. Staying in wasn't an option. He understood more keenly than most what was at stake, what they were fighting for. He had to be amongst it.

He gathered the children up, Thomas in the perambulator and Fanny on the little seat across the front, even though she was too big for it, and walked into town.

The main street was packed and today, the first official strike day, had more the feel of a carnival than of industrial action. Men milled around in groups, most in their working suits, smoking and blowing hot breath into cold hands. Archie shook his head as he took in the scene before him. It wasn't only Waihi mine workers but the men from Waikino and to rub salt in the wound, the borough council staff was on the street. Archie suddenly felt heavy. The fortunes of the mine were directly related to supporting the town and that meant all the services that council provided. All up there were about two thousand men not at work today.

'Archie!' It was Ian and he walked towards him with William. 'Thanks for supporting us.'

'I didn't have a choice,' Archie replied.

Ian peeked at Thomas and threw Archie a questioning look.

Archie understood. 'Yeah, I know he's too big for the pram, but I'm not carrying him. There's no one at home.'

The men nodded. Ian was lucky. Isabelle was at home looking after Liam and Sarah. If he was lucky there'd be another one by Christmas.

'I didn't realise the county staff would be out,' said Archie.

'The mine pays their wages,' said William. 'Indirectly.'

Archie rubbed his chin. 'What's our next move?'

William and Ian had decided on a plan and William explained. 'We need to get the wives to support us,' he said. 'I'll call a special meeting for women only. Look around you. For every man you see there's a wife or mother at home. We need their support. The sooner the better. And it's better coming from us than them.' He nodded at the groups of miners that thronged the street, all dressed in their work suits, smoking.

'There's a free picture show this morning at eleven,' said Ian. 'We'll make an announcement there. Will you go?'

Archie shook his head. 'With these two? I don't think so.'

'Mrs. Bracewell walk out?' asked William.

'She didn't show.'

William and Ian veered Archie away from the nearest group of men. 'Is there any chance of you meeting with the engine drivers, on the quiet like, make them see sense?' asked Ian.

Archie let out a long breath. 'I've been thinking exactly that. And I'll help you at the women's meeting. Count on it.'

* * *

The Miners' Union Hall was packed. Women stood in the aisles rocking perambulators, they sat in rows cradling infants and stood crushed at the rear so that not a single person more could fit. The executive took the stage and William called the women to order.

'Thank you for coming today ladies,' he began. 'It is the most serious turn of events that brings us here today and this committee owes it to you, our wives and daughters, our most ardent supporters of your miner men, to explain why this action was taken.'

There wasn't a murmur in the whole hall. William continued.

'Our union, the union to which your husbands and sons belong, has been weakened by the formation of a breakaway union, namely the Waihi Engine Drivers and Firemens' Union. We believe this is an illegal act as the law under the Conciliation and Arbitration Act 1894 states that there shall be only one union of a particular type in an industrial district and thus the registration of the breakaway union would be unlawful.'

'What difference does that make to the miners?' shouted a woman half way down the hall.

'A good question, madam,' William replied. 'The Waihi Trade Union of Workers has been working tirelessly to improve the lot of our miners. The Arbitration Act is nothing more than an act of oppression and to show the extent of that oppression, it makes it illegal for your husbands to strike while his union negotiates better terms – safer conditions, fair pay. We had to deregister from this oppressive Act and register under the Trade Union Act. Ladies, there is nothing illegal about what your husbands are doing, you may be clear on that.'

'But how does that affect our men?' asked the woman again. 'Answer us that.'

Ian stood. 'If I may answer,' he said. 'Our unions are so oppressed by this Liberal Act of Parliament that the Federation of Labour was formed to oppose it. Some of you may have seen the Federation magazine your husbands have taken home.'

A ripple went through the crowd.

'Some of the engine drivers object to the candid views of this organisation. But they do not suffer the same working conditions as your husbands. We promote a more just system of employment; the abolishment of the wage system, grass roots democracy.'

The room erupted into groups of chatter. Heads nodded.

Archie whispered to Ian. 'Too much.' He stood and held his hands aloft. 'Ladies, ladies. You must understand that your husbands are striking for unity above all else. While the engine drivers go it alone the company sees a fragmented workforce, a workforce that can be manipulated for the company's own ends.'

He let the women digest his words. No interjections came.

'It is a matter of safety,' he continued. 'While we are at loggerheads we cannot put our men at risk by being lowered by them. I put it to you that you would not let your husbands be lowered down a shaft into a mine, a dangerous endeavour at the best of times, by someone who is unwilling to stand united with your husband in the fight for the right to strike for better working conditions.'

The women chattered loudly and the executive sensed a consensus amongst the women.

'How long will the men be out?' someone asked.

William and Ian jumped to their feet.

'Until we have unity!' said William.

Archie sat down again and he glanced to the wing to Fanny who held Thomas' hand. She looked tired and Thomas was cranky. Then he looked across the hall, scanning the audience. He held his breath for a second when he saw her at the back of the hall, crushed amongst the countless women in huge hats.

Mary's hair had grown longer. He could tell that even beneath her hat. And her sea grey eyes seemed to be fixed on him across that crazy crowd. He hadn't seen Mary since the day she walked out on him. He'd floundered around without her. He had a replacement in Mrs. Bracewell of course, but Mary was a light in his life during his dark days.

It surprised him that he should miss her quiet efficiency and her gentle almost Scots accent. There was a calmness she effused that he most certainly had not appreciated when she was there. At the time he had a tendency to blame Sybil for the negative ideas she put into his head about Mary. But that was cowardly. He was the one who chose whether to accept Sybil's notions on Mary's ability. He had been too influenced by Sybil.

Archie was transfixed on Mary and didn't notice Ian coax Fanny and Thomas to him to face the women. Ian knew straight away the action would appeal to them.

'Ladies,' said Ian. 'Your husbands strike for a better future. These children are our future.'

He held Fanny's hand and Archie took hold of Thomas'. Together they presented a picture of tenderness to the women. The rest of the executive stood alongside and took hands raising them high.

'Do we have your support ladies?' Ian bellowed.

Every woman got to her feet and shouted yes.

'Can your husbands count on you in the struggle ahead?'

Again the women chorused their support.

Thomas, startled at the unsettled crowd eventually broke into loud sobs. Archie picked him up and looked over the sea of hats to the back of the hall in time to see Mary leave.

* * *

The next day Mary visited the homes of her pupils and got the same response from each one: piano lessons would have to be put on hold until the men get back to work. It was hard to hide her gloom.

She didn't share the jubilation in the hall yesterday. She hadn't decided where to hang her hat. There were so many viewpoints. Her dad had a view that she suspected not many would share. Her brother must have a view, notwithstanding his insistence that the strike wasn't his making. But most confusing was Archie's stance. Of course she'd read his Maoriland Worker. It was the first time she'd been exposed to such socialist ideas. But for Archie to abandon the job he'd done for nearly two years, to risk the wrath of his colleagues in favour of striking – Mary puzzled over it.

Emily dumped a load of washing on the table. 'What are you so maudlin about?' she asked.

Mary took hold of a sheet and held it out for her mother to grab the other side.

'I don't know which way is up,' she replied. 'It seems to me there's no sitting on the fence. It's straight forward for Rose and Meg; they're engaged to miners.'

She gave the sheet a flick before smoothing down the final fold before it got ironed. 'I can't help but feel they have a point.'

She reached for another sheet. 'What do you think?'

Emily pressed her lips together. 'What do I think?' she mused. 'I think a girl needs to consider all the arguments before she casts her hat into the ring. Then once she's decided which side she's on she must stand by her beliefs.' She smiled as if she suddenly wasn't in the moment. Mary knew what was going through her mother's mind.

'Just like you did,' Mary suggested.

Emily had campaigned for the Woman's Christian Temperance Union, achieving success in 1908.

'A little bit,' said Emily. 'It was a different fight. We rode a wave, a great international wave that started in 1836. I was fortunate to see success.'

'But father was against you,' said Mary. 'How did you manage it?'

Emily smiled. 'Because I believed in the cause. It doesn't matter what we all think, Mary. You decide.'

Mary pondered. 'What if I decide against father?'

'Oh, don't worry,' Emily replied. 'Your father has me.'

'And against Sam?'

'Sam has his friends and most of them will be on Sam's side.'

Emily stepped into Mary as she transferred a sheet to her. 'You're wanting to support the miners aren't you?' she asked.

'Maybe.' Mary furrowed her brow. 'I need to consider the arguments.'

The door opened and Gerald stood there, his face grim with worry.

'What is it?' asked Emily.

'The mayor's salary has been cut and his honorarium is to be cut when _necessary_. On top of that the Borough engineer was laid off along with other council workers.' Gerald swiped the hat off his head and wrung it in his hands. 'The company shares have dropped and they've cancelled all the mining contracts.'

Emily swept to his side.

'There are people everywhere on the streets,' he continued. 'Businessmen are laying off staff.'

'Mary's teaching is on hold too,' said Emily.

'Oh, I'm sorry love,' said Gerald. Then he got angry. 'It's not your fight damn it! Damn those bloody miners. Can't they see what they're doing to every single person in this town!'

'Don't worry about me,' said Mary softly.

'What's the company doing about this?' asked Emily.

Gerald took a seat while Emily sorted the washing. 'It's not a company dispute Em,' he replied. 'It's between the miners and the engine drivers. It can't last long. There's nothing to be done by the company.'

'But Sam won't be earning wages, Gerald,' said Emily. 'What's to be done about that?'

Gerald scratched his nose. 'Technically he's locked out. I guess the new union will support him – if it goes ahead.'

'And you?'

'They can't not pay me.' He forced a smile. 'Don't worry, it won't last long.'

* * *

Archie woke to an urgent knocking on the front door. Between the curtains a pale slither of dawn light shone into the room. He inched a curtain aside and saw Mary standing on the verandah carrying a large basket. His heart leapt and he fumbled to drag on some trousers.

She knocked again.

'I'm coming,' Archie yelled.

No sooner had he opened the door than Mary stepped inside. 'Good morning Mr. Wright.'

She swept passed him so he was forced to follow her into the dining room. She looked around disapprovingly.

Archie struggled for words, not helped by his semi-nakedness. 'Ah, Miss Bell,' he muttered.

Mary hefted her basket onto the table. 'Why don't you get dressed, Mr. Wright. Then you can get the fire started please.'

Archie was relieved at the excuse she gave him to leave and as he dashed off he allowed a small smile to form. By the time he returned Mary had swapped her broad hat for a simple band and was preparing porridge.

Archie cleared his throat. 'Miss Bell, why are you here?'

'To look after the children of course.'

A fleeting look of disappointment shot across Archie's face. He had reflected on seeing Mary at the back of the hall. Perhaps it was his imagination that there might have been something in their short exchange.

'You can't drag the children around to be used like pawns in your game,' she continued.

'No,' Archie muttered as he kneeled at the coal range to set the fire. 'You are quite right. I feel I owe you an apology.'

Mary paused on her way into the kitchen. 'Whatever for?'

There! He heard it! Archie heard a flicker of playfulness in Mary's voice. She knew jolly well what he meant. She was teasing him.

'We parted on ill terms,' he said. 'If I was any sort of a man I would have sought you out and apologised.'

Mary attempted a stern smile. There was a lot that could be said but not now.

Archie blew into the firebox until the flames caught. 'I can't pay you at the moment,' he said without turning to her.

'I know.'

Mary put the pot on the range. 'You can run an account,'

Archie smiled as he turned back to the fire.

### Chapter Nine

Archie led the men inside. Already it felt as though Mary had never left. A warm smell of freshly baked bread greeted them and they heard Mary's sweet singing as she bustled about in the kitchen.

Archie introduced Mary to the strike committee who it was agreed would take turns to meet in each others' houses for the time being. In addition to the union executive who she knew from the wives meeting there was the young lad Buster, who'd got his leg trapped in the runaway cage, and his best mate Leonard.

'It's vital I go to Wellington now,' said William. 'The Federation is our most powerful ally in this. I will appeal for financial help for our members. I can leave by tonight's train.'

He turned to Floyd. 'You'll be acting President while I'm away.'

Archie cut in. 'Shouldn't we wait until we know for sure the new union is registered?'

Ian and William both shook their heads. 'Can't afford to,' said Ian. 'Apart from garnering financial support we need to make our plight known in the Maoriland Worker.'

Ian fished in his pocket and pulled out a dog eared piece of paper. 'Here.' He handed it to William. 'Get them to print this.'

William cast his eye over it and slowly nodded.

'Read it out,' said Buster.

Ian suddenly became bashful and Archie took the sheet. He read the piece.

'I'm a Miner, by Rufus Bandwork.'

Mary set cups and saucers on the table and stood back to listen.

'Down we go into the black

To spend our days

In the cold and gloom

Deep into the caverns we made

Deeper than the worms that wriggle or glow

Deeper still than the colleagues we bury

For a bit of gold that's too small to hold

Or a bit of coal that's too black to see

For a miner's lot is darkness

And the dank smell of earth is our friend

Not the one who stands atop

And winches up and down

We are like the pit ponies

There we are kept by the oppression

Of low wages

And the miners' cough

And the inability to rise above

Until in unity we stand

In unity we fight

For a fair wage

And a safe mine

And compensation to our wives

Should we not come home

This class division that is our war

Must be fought as one union

Who in the employing class can claim

To understand our plight

The working class will control the means of production

Abolish the wage system

Live in harmony with the earth

The employing class are overwhelmed

At craft unions merging into workers' union

Where in time

The working class will overthrow capitalism

Within the shell of the old

We go down that black hole

Not for gold

Not for coal

We go down the hole for the self respect that we all say

I am a miner

I am a miner

Not a word was spoken. Mary stood slack-jawed. Leonard and Buster looked at each other blank-faced. Archie smiled.

'You'll do me,' he said and patted Ian on the back.

'I don't write it lightly,' he said gravely. 'And I don't take this stance lightly. But it's something I believe in.'

Leonard took the magazine. 'What else is in here? That was a pretty radical piece, Ian. Where'd you learn about workers controlling the means of production?' He laughed lightly under his breath. 'I don't even know what it means.'

'The International Workers of the World,' Ian replied. 'Wobblies.'

Leonard and Buster shook their heads and Archie explained.

'It's an organisation like William's, that is, the Federation of Labour; yet another enlightened body that recognises that New Zealand's Arbitration Court is Labour's leg-irons. It denounces the main political parties as tools of the capitalist system, not just the Liberal and Reform Governments here, but those in other countries too. But as Ian said in his verse, a crucial tool for the class war is unity of unions. No more little craft unions.' Archie balled his hand into a fist. 'Only workers' unions have the power to make changes for the working man, for you, the miner.'

Mary looked at the faces of the men. They each hung on Archie's every word, especially Buster and Leonard who had never heard this kind of talk before. She could see that Archie had their respect.

She sensed there was something in Archie's past to promote such depth of feeling for a class war that clearly he was never initially a part of. To her surprise she noticed her heart beating harder than it should.

'People have already left town.' It was Garrick. 'I know married men who are going back to Australia. They don't believe in it.'

'That's their right and their privilege,' Ian rebutted. 'My Isabelle stands by me one hundred percent.'

Garrick pushed his chair back. 'Business and trades people are already operating on a cash only basis,' he said. 'I hear six thousand pounds a week will be lost in wages. Do you think you can get that much strike pay from the Federation?'

They looked at William who exhaled long and loud. 'It's my job to try.'

'You'd better do more than try, Mr. Strawbridge.' Now they stared at Mary. 'The decision to strike rests heavily on your shoulders. I'm told the hospital can survive for two months only.' She addressed Buster. 'How would you like to face your leg injury without the hospital?'

Buster shuffled in his seat.

Mary continued. 'That's if the hospital doesn't run out of coal before that.'

Floyd addressed that concern. 'The council sold the hospital some coal. We've blocked sixty tons of coal going from the Grand Junction to the gasworks.'

'Ian,' said Archie. 'Did you secure a speaker for our next meeting?'

Ian nodded. 'Desmond Nickleback, President of the Auckland General Labourers' Union.'

'And what about the company?' asked Leonard. 'Why aren't they doing anything?'

'To be fair,' Archie replied, 'the engine drivers aren't registered yet. I can't see any other reason for the company to address this problem.'

'But you've been management, Arch!' said Ian. 'Come on! Think like a manager.' He banged his fist on the table.

Archie paced the room. 'The company is loyal to its shareholders. More than that: it's obliged to pay dividends to its shareholders. We come second. Although without us there is no gold, no shares, no company. If we become two unions we become weak. We are most vulnerable while we are fighting amongst ourselves. We have no credibility but more than that, while we are arguing with each other we are not annoying the company. Hell! They don't need to do anything right now.'

'Surely the shareholders want the mine to reopen,' said Garrick.

'I'm sure they do,' Archie agreed. 'And I say it comes back to timing. They are sitting on their hands until the Engine Drivers' Union is registered.'

'Then what?' asked Buster.

Archie screwed up his face. 'We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.'

The men stood up to leave, each one tipping his hat to Mary.

'Good luck in your endeavours Mr. Strawbridge,' she said.

Mary's head whirled. The strike was all consuming. It was all anyone talked about. The only way to avoid it was to leave town. And if she couldn't? Well, like her mother said, make a decision and stick by it. She felt as though she was on the edge of a precipice, and the longer she deliberated the more swayed she was by the fervour of the strikers.

* * *

Gerald said grace more sombrely than usual. He usually left the troubles of the day behind as he faced the family, but tonight there was heaviness in his voice and his smile wasn't genuine: there was no light behind his eyes. He set the tone at the table.

Only Percy refused to be subdued. 'Jack's dad's going to Wellington to rally support for the miners.'

Gerald was surprised. 'He'll have his work cut out for him. I hear the Federation is broke.'

Mary scoffed. 'The Federation is stronger than you think. It's been pretty successful enticing unions to register under the Trade Union Act. Not that all strikes haven't been effective, illegal or not. There have been illegal strikes in the past.'

Percy was the only one not surprised at Mary's knowledge. 'In Waihi?'

Mary shook her head. 'In Auckland,' she explained. 'Back in '06 and '07, the tramwaymen and freezing workers walked out. They were successful too.'

'So it makes no difference whether it's illegal or not,' Percy mused.

'I guess not, but if the Arbitration Act didn't make it so difficult to be heard they probably wouldn't need to strike at all,' she said.

Gerald slammed his cutlery on the table. 'Where on earth did you hear that nonsense? It's not even about that. Two unions arguing amongst themselves is what's caused this.'

Emily laid a hand on Gerald's forearm.

Mary wasn't deterred. 'It's not nonsense father. You know the Federation was formed specifically to oppose the Act.'

Gerald grumped and returned to his meal. Mary had shocked him for as much as inadvertently challenging his viewpoint, which the family should concur with, as the words she spoke.

She hesitated. Mary wanted to be on Gerald's side; or more to the point, he on hers. She wanted them all to be on the same side, but Sam and her father were already at odds. In a way that should make it easier to accept the decision she'd already made. But she wanted to hear Gerald's view. She struggled at how to approach him without appearing impertinent.

'How does the company view the strike?' Mary finally asked.

It was the right way to tackle Gerald and he softened into his seat.

'It's not their fight, Mary,' he said. 'Yes, we have the Goldminers' Association breathing down our necks, for the shareholders. We want nothing more than to have those mines working. No one wins in a strike, Mary. Least of all the strikers.'

'Would the company not see the two arguing unions as a distraction from the ongoing negations with the miners' union? Is it not better for the company that they abandon any attempt to negotiate for a fairer pay structure?'

'The company has no opinion on that, Mary,' said Gerald. 'That is a fact; not a stance. The fact remains that it is illegal to strike while in negotiations with the employer.'

Mary was about to speak but Emily cut her off. 'Sometimes the law isn't just and if the Federation was formed to oppose the law then that is a legitimate protest. As you know it can take a long time to effect change.'

'Are you going to join them, Mary?' It was Percy who had keenly followed every word his sister spoke.

Mary calmly put down her knife and fork then straightened in her chair. 'I am. Yes.'

'Oh, for goodness sake, girl!' Gerald slapped his palms on the table. As he walked away he addressed Emily. 'Will you talk some sense into your daughter!'

* * *

Archie arrived home unexpectedly with Fanny in tow. Mary wiped her hands on her apron.

'What's happened?'

'The school's closed for the afternoon. There's to be a demonstration,' Archie replied.

'Are you going?'

'I thought you might like to.'

'Me?'

'If the school closed for it I'm sure it would be all right, with women and children there, I mean.'

Mary's mouth went dry. 'What makes you think I will demonstrate for your cause?'

Archie was taken aback. 'I'm sorry, Miss Bell. I only meant that you might like to observe.' He fumbled with his cap. 'However, I may have misjudged your intentions to return to work. I do beg your pardon.'

Mary went back to folding washing.

'I can see you're busy,' Archie continued. 'Perhaps I should go alone after all.'

He flipped his cap back on and started for the door.

'No wait,' Mary called. 'I'd like to go. To watch.'

Archie smiled to himself. 'Get the children ready. We'll all go.'

By the time they walked up the hill to Seddon Street a loose assembly of women and children had formed outside the Miners' Union Hall. Mary insisted they stand well apart from them but close enough to recognise those women who had already made their stand. There were mothers from the school holding the hands of their children and girls she knew who were in Rose's choir.

The assembly moved off, slowly picking up people as it progressed down the street.

Fanny clutched Mary's hand. 'Where are they going?' she asked.

Mary looked at Archie.

'They're just walking, honey,' he replied. He hoisted Thomas on his shoulders. 'Come on. Let's go home.'

Mary was quiet as they walked back. She wondered why Archie wanted her to see that. The women weren't organised with signs, they weren't even very vocal. They just wanted to be seen supporting their men. Her thoughts turned to Charlie and she knew full well that had he been alive she would have been walking with those women.

* * *

A light drizzle fell the next day as Mary turned to pull the perambulator off the carriageway. There was still the air of a carnival with the street filled with idle workers. They ignored the rain: it was either go home and get under the wife's feet where the novelty of a striking husband would wear thin extremely quickly, or hang about in town with colleagues.

Dardar sat in his usual seat outside the chemist shop.

'Morning Dardar,' said Mary taking a seat next to him.

The old man barely nodded his head in acknowledgement but that was all right, that's all anyone expected from him. Mary peered behind her through the glass window display of Clark's Miners' Cough Cure to see Rose in her white pinny serving a customer.

'At least Rose still has her job,' said Mary.

'Aye.'

'Will you go to the free picture show tomorrow?' she asked Dardar.

Dardar blew out his cheeks and screwed up his nose.

Mary laughed. 'Me neither. Too many people for young Thomas here.' She playfully clipped the boy's foot which dangled from the seat at the front of the perambulator. 'Well, good day to you,' said Mary. 'I can't be sitting here all day gossiping.'

Dardar tipped his hat and watched Mary drag the pram backwards as she negotiated the step into the shop.

Rose was taken aback. 'Mary! I didn't know you'd gone back to Mr. Wright.'

'It all happened rather quickly,' said Mary.

'Does this mean you're on our side?' whispered Rose leaning in to Mary.

Mary held a finger to her lips. 'Yes.'

'But your father!'

'My father, my brother, my mother.'

Rose threw her hands to her mouth. 'Of course! Your brother. It's all his fault isn't it?'

Mary hadn't heard it quite so bluntly before. If that's what Rose thought and had the temerity to say it to her face, the whole town would be saying the same thing. She suddenly felt embarrassed until Rose pointed out that relations in her family were no less strained. Her father firmly blamed the engine drivers for forcing the miners to strike and he was thankful it was only Rose who worked for him as he could keep her on without having to pay her. Rose's engagement to a miner firmly put her on the striker's side.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' said Mary.

Rose was upbeat. 'It's all right. It won't be for long. Henry says he expects some strike pay. William Strawbridge will see to it.'

'Even if the miners get strike pay it doesn't help the rest of the town.'

'What do you mean?'

'It won't be much. Maybe there'll be enough to put food on the table. But what about the borough workers? They're paid from what the mine produces. The mayor is trying to get them work on the Waihi-Tauranga railway. I know Jean and Lucille have been laid off at the dressmakers. It's dire, Rose, but people need to see the wider picture. The town should be behind your Henry. The men need to see that we are behind them.'

Rose hadn't thought it through further than Henry's impending strike pay. She was puzzled at Mary's stance.

'Is there any special reason you decided to go against your father, Mary?' Rose goaded. She looked pointedly at Thomas.

Mary rebuffed her and made an excuse to leave.

Rose called after her. 'I've got a special on Dr. Charles' Face Powder.'

If either of the women had faced each other they would have seen a quiet smile on their faces.

### Chapter Ten

Floyd swiped the cloth hat off his head and dropped the evening paper on the table. Isabelle brought him and Ian tea then perched the baby on her lap to join them. Floyd relayed how he had travelled to Paeroa to ask union members working for the Waihi-Paeroa Gold Extraction Company to down tools. The result was confusion over which industrial district the company fell into and the company decided to suspend operations for a few days. In the meantime sixteen men who stopped work were ordered off the premises.

By the end of the day two telegrams had been exchanged. Floyd advised the Thames Miners' Union that a strike had been declared at the Waihi-Paeroa Gold Extraction Company and to refrain from enrolling members from that locality, to which the Thames Union replied ' _cannot understand your telegram re strike at Paeroa, which is in our district, and outside your jurisdiction._ '

'Impertinence,' Floyd spat.

'A rather smug way of washing their hands of you,' said Isabelle. 'Quite clever on their part.'

'It's not all bad news,' said Ian. He flicked the newspaper. 'The union hasn't been registered because the Auckland Engine Drivers' Union is protesting against it. Says there is not to be two unions of the same kind in an industrial district.'

'But the Waihi men are proposing an Engine Drivers and Firemens' Union,' said Isabelle.

'Exactly,' said Ian. 'The Minister of Labour has asked the Auckland engine drivers to allow firemen and they replied that the matter was being voted upon at this very minute. Results won't be known until May thirtieth. That's why they haven't registered the Waihi Engine Drivers' Union.'

Isabelle bounced Sarah on her knee. 'So this should all be settled in ten days.' She smiled at Floyd. 'I'm sure Clara can do without you getting under her feet all day.'

'I best be off,' said Floyd. He turned to Ian. 'We've got a meeting with local business owners tomorrow morning and then council want to discuss coal deliveries. He tipped his hat to Isabelle, 'Mrs. McCardie.'

Isabelle slung the baby onto her hip and went to the kitchen. She opened the cupboards and sighed. Ten days. The week's pay was all but gone. She sent a silent prayer to William.

* * *

The strike committee met in the Miners' Union Hall without William who was putting their case to the Federation. Ian had left Isabelle vomiting and weakened in the early stages of pregnancy. She assured him it would only last until eleven and she'd pushed him out the door telling him a thousand miners depended on him for their livelihoods so she couldn't justify keeping him home for a little morning sickness. Isabelle had made it clear that she saw Ian's success in the strike as a foundation on which to build his future political career.

The delegation of grocers and other businessmen, including Rose's father, Mr. Brady, sat uneasily at the table. Ian spoke with urgency, his blue eyes flashing like steel. He had seen Isabelle look wistfully in the cupboards and she hadn't said a word. He owed her.

'I implore you, gentlemen,' he said rubbing a circle on the table with his fist, 'give the lads credit. We'll soon have strike pay.'

The men shook their heads. 'It's out of our hands, Ian,' said Mr. Brady. 'This is bigger than Waihi. When we place an order for goods from Auckland or Thames we're asked for cash at the time we place the order. It puts us in a very difficult position. I don't know of a single business that can carry such a large amount of creditors.'

'Aye,' said Harry the fishmonger. 'I do. James Bellworthy.'

That was no surprise. The Grocery, Ironmongery and Fancy Goods store was the largest of its kind on the southern Hauraki Goldfields. 'He's letting 'em run up accounts. It's a risk I'll grant you but he'll have the town sown up if the boys do get their strike pay.'

Floyd put a strategy to the meeting. 'What if one of the strike committee had a meeting with your suppliers, explain that the Federation is behind us.'

'It's worth a try,' said Mr. Brady. 'They're not taking any notice of what we say. The horse's mouth might work.'

There was a shuffle at the door of the hall and several men strode in. Ian recognised Selwyn Swain, a coal merchant. 'Gentlemen,' said Ian. 'We haven't concluded our meeting.'

But the businessmen took the interruption as a conclusion and disbanded with Mr. Brady announcing that they had nothing more to add.

Selwyn spoke for the coal merchants. 'They can hear what we have to say,' he said nodding to the men. 'You have a list of people that we should not supply coal to. Well you can shove your list where the sun don't shine. We own our coal and we will sell it to anyone we want to. We are unanimous in this.' The men behind him murmured their agreement.

'But the coal unions are on our side,' Ian explained.

'We're not in a coal union, man. We're businessmen.' Selwyn swept his hand in front of him. 'Just like these men.'

Floyd leapt to Ian's defence. 'Your point is noted, Mr. Swain. I would point out that the relatively small amount of people on our list are engine drivers: men who have caused the strike.'

'Their money's as good as yours,' Selwyn grumped.

'No one's got any money yet,' said Harry.

'Well, when they do,' Selwyn said, 'this committee ain't telling us who we can and can't do business with.'

The coal merchants left in a close bunch and the businessmen straggled out after them. Ian held the committee back. 'They're laying the strike on us,' he said. 'We need to be seen to support business. It's one thing to get pay for our lads but we shouldn't expect all the other poor buggers to be out of pocket. Council staff and the like, I mean.'

Archie screwed up his face. 'You're right. I'll get a list of creditors and start working with Mr. Brady.'

As they left the hall Ted and Cyril Gilliespie approached.

'Have you heard that Ewen Campbell is playing piano at the pictures?' asked Ted.

The whole committee rounded on Ted.

'What!' It was Ian. 'He'll do no such thing. What does he think he's playing at?'

Cyril explained. 'Old Jonesy figured he wouldn't be doing much business so he laid off the other piano player and hired Ewen for less.'

'No!' cried Ian. 'We're not having it. How dare a striking man take on other work. It undermines the bloody lot of us. And makes us look like monkeys.'

Ian marched to the picture theatre followed by Floyd and Archie where the proprietor protested that he didn't know Mr. Campbell was a striking man.

'We'll be instructing a boycott of the pictures if you continue his employment,' said Ian.

'But who can I get at such short notice?' whined Jones. 'I'm doing a show this afternoon.'

Archie casually stroked his moustache. 'I may be able to help you there. Ask Miss Bell, Gerald Bell's daughter. She's a piano teacher.'

Floyd sucked in air through pursed lips. 'I don't know Arch. She's not exactly neutral. Gerald is management – he's not on our side. Her brother's an engine driver. What about the woman who runs the music academy?'

'Fair enough,' said Archie. Funny how people saw things. Mary hadn't shown her colours to him, but the boys were right. Mary's family alliances were too obvious. She couldn't possibly play.

The committee left Jonesy with an ultimatum: a new approved piano player or a boycott.

* * *

Nell was hosting a small luncheon at the back of the academy when Jonesy turned up cap in hand asking her to play this afternoon.

'Oh, Mr. Jones,' said Nell. 'You are in a bit of a pickle.' Nell's blonde bob bounced as she spoke and she had a twinkle in her eye as she poured tea for Mary and Josie, another former pupil. 'I'm sure one of these girls might like to play for you this afternoon.'

Mary frowned. Nell knew she could do no such thing, having Thomas to look after, unless Nell was also offering to mind the boy.

Jonesy twisted his cap in his hands and grimaced. 'No disrespect intended ladies, but I need someone who is, ah, let's say, acceptable to the miners.'

'I see,' said Mary. 'And you will of course pay Nell one and a half times what you paid Mr. Campbell.'

Jonesy gagged. The ladies watched him as he squirmed like a worm on a hook. What could he do but agree.

After he left the ladies laughed and by the time Mary returned to Archie's she knew she would have to confront him.

### Chapter Eleven

Archie was reading the Thames Star when Mary walked in. Thomas ran straight to his father who propped the boy on his knee.

'Oh, Mr. Wright,' Mary exclaimed. 'You're early today.'

She grabbed her apron from the door knob then glanced at the paper as she tied the strings. 'What news of the strike?'

Archie read a few headlines. 'The Waihi Trade Union of Workers asks the Waihi-Paeroa Gold Extraction Company to knock off, the new union is not registered due to an Auckland objection, the town is quiet and people are leaving for good.'

'The town is quiet?' asked Mary. 'What do they mean by that? The town is buzzing. There are people everywhere.'

'Perhaps more unrest is expected,' Archie explained. 'Idle hands and all that. No.' He tapped the pages. 'They're saying that the ironmongers have been seen selling revolvers and there's been a stop put to it.'

'Revolvers!' Mary cried. 'I've not seen that. Have you got one?'

Archie casually ruffled Thomas' hair. 'Don't ask me, Miss Bell.'

Mary retreated to the centre of the room. 'Mr. Wright, I have decided to support you in your fight. There have been many things said in the last few days to help me make up my mind. But this afternoon I heard of a striking miner who took up work elsewhere. I was disgusted. The man has no principles and he should be ashamed of himself.'

Mary was fervent. Her grey eyes pierced his as though they were daggers. Archie wanted to hug her he was so delighted. At the very least he wanted to smile but there was something about the steadfast way she stood that prevented him showing anything like happiness.

She continued. 'To that end I insist that you do not pay me for my work. This is a small way that I can show my support.'

Archie set Thomas on the chair and straightened his jacket as he faced Mary. 'You have thought hard about this. What about your family?'

'They know.'

Archie raised his eyebrows.

'It isn't what they expect or want,' Mary explained.

'I bet it isn't,' Archie muttered. 'Miss Bell, you must let me pay you something.'

'Pay me with victory,' Mary replied. 'Pay me with a united working class.'

Archie couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'Well, Miss Bell. If I'm not to pay you then you must call me Archie.' Now he smiled and Mary lowered her eyes. 'May I call you Mary?'

Mary nodded and allowed a slight narrowing of her lips before she strode into the kitchen.

* * *

Will returned from Wellington with mixed news: the Federation did not have enough funds to cover strike pay for the thousand men but it was behind them one hundred percent and would pull out every stop to extract money from its member unions. It would put men on the street in every major town and publish extensively on the Waihi workers' strike. It assured the strikers of its loyalty to them and urged them to stand firm. He was hopeful that the Watersiders' Union would pledge five percent of wages per man and the same from the Reefton Miners' Union. The miners on the Huntly coal field were prepared to lay down their tools in sympathy with the Waihi strikers.

Archie relayed the news to Mary who in turn filtered it to Gerald and Sam. Gerald appeared to have the world on his shoulders and his heavy presence subdued the family into prolonged silences. It seemed the easiest way for Gerald to cope with the whole problem was to not talk about it. Mary often found an ear in her mother and together they generated some philosophical debate without sinking into the blame game, always out of Gerald's earshot.

The days in the Bell house were odd: it was odd to have Gerald coming and going at different hours of the day and night. It was odd that only Percy was unaffected by the strike – at least, he went to school same as always. And it was a most odd thing that Mary should work for Archie for no money, even though Gerald had threatened to kick her out whether she worked for Archie at all, money or no money. He wouldn't of course. Emily wouldn't allow it. But it sure stuck in his craw.

Sam had his own problems. One of his engine driver colleagues had defected and went back into the miners' union. Sam was genuinely perplexed. He'd thought it was black and white. What possible reason would a man have to abandon his colleagues? Why, it was exactly what Archie Wright had done and Mary agreed with him. His sister seemed to have a more thorough understanding of the whole affair.

Percy came home from school munching on a feijoa. He let the door slam behind him and dropped his satchel at his feet.

'Swags of people are leaving town,' he announced. 'Jack's dad says they don't think they'll get enough strike pay. He says the shops won't let them book up food so they have to leave.'

Gerald bristled. 'Percy, I want you to stop seeing that boy.'

'But Jack's my best friend,' Percy protested.

'Then he will be your friend when this has all blown over,' Gerald reasoned. 'Won't be long now. In a couple of days it will be over.'

Percy sulked. The boys had so far been observers of the strike. Percy, Errol and Jack saw no reason not to continue their after school retreats to the tree hut. Percy cursed himself. He wished he hadn't been so open in his remarks. Now he wouldn't be able to come home late, especially if Gerald's comings and goings were indeterminate. He looked to his mother who merely gave him that look that says ' _you'll do as your father says._ '

* * *

Joe kept his regular hours at his regular job. Even if he'd done with work for the day he stayed on; he was a creature of habit. It felt wrong to be at home during the day and Sybil would worry. Joe was mindful of that; there was no point in worrying Sybil. The mere act cushioned Sybil's understanding of the strike. Her days were filled with anything but the strike: she continued to paint. She pretentiously referred to it as dabbling in watercolour, but Joe knew she agonised over her efforts. She loved the fine arts and he knew she missed being part of the city art scene that she revelled in back in Australia. Joe felt for her. She'd dutifully come with him to Waihi for the better job, for the good of the family. He also knew she'd leave here for the sake of the family, to ensure none of the children ended up on the wrong side of the mine.

Sybil sent the housekeeper to do the grocery shopping so she wouldn't have to converse with the wives of the strikers, as if they had some disease she might catch. Sybil didn't want to have any reason at all to see the other side of the strike. Nevertheless she firmly blamed Archie for the town's troubles and labelled him as a ringleader. She was indignant.

'After all we've done for that man.'

Joe rolled his eyes. He'd been in meetings most of the day with the company's top management and the Goldmine Owners' Association. By God it was difficult! The Goldmine Owners' President, George Graham, insisted the Federation was trying to say the fight was between the company and the union. Of course he was right – how else could the Federation garner nationwide support. It could hardly say two unions were squabbling; they'd never get their members to cough up part of their pay. No, it had to be an us and them fight to appeal to the masses of the working class.

George had gone to press refuting the Federation's claims. Further, the mine managers did not have the authority to confer with the Federation delegates if the Federation requested it.

Then there was the matter of personal conflict. His own brother was on the strike committee; a position Joe found untenable. And he employed Gerald's daughter who Gerald seemed to have no control over. The least Gerald could do was to stop that carry on.

Joe was disturbed by giggling in the next room. The girls were playing hide and seek with Ralphie who was now able to totter around without assistance.

Sybil threw a piece of wood into the range. 'Are you listening to me?'

Joe took a deep breath. 'Of course, dear.'

'Did you meet with the Federation today? asked Sybil.

'No. Why?'

'The president and the organiser are in Waihi,' Sybil explained. 'They met with the engine drivers and told them they would not tolerate this breakaway union. It fell on deaf ears. So they met with the miners and told them that they would meet with the mine managers today.'

'Well they didn't,' said Joe. 'You're very well informed.'

'I read the papers, Joseph.' Sybil lifted a hot pot off the range and placed it on the table. 'Why didn't you meet with them?'

'We had no such request. Look, Syb, I've had it up to my eyeballs today. Can we give it a rest for five minutes?'

Joe lifted the pot lid and his thoughts turned to Archie: he hoped he had enough food in the house because he surely would have run out of money by now.

* * *

Archie shivered under the thin blanket thinking it was probably cold enough for a frost. The thought was depressing. He was coming into his third winter in this cold hole and he still wasn't used to it. He tried to remember if he felt like this last year. He probably didn't; he still had hope back then. The children had settled into their new home and Archie enjoyed leading Sybil on with her introductions, or at least he had more tolerance for the game.

But today, on the first real day of winter, he didn't have any of those hopeful thoughts for the future. Perhaps it was because he was hungry. He clutched his stomach as it growled.

Mary had done a marvellous job with their dwindling supplies. The children didn't mind porridge and feijoas twice a day but Archie found it a bit much. He hadn't tasted a mutton chop for three days and the chickens had been off the lay for a couple of weeks. He'd have to kill a chicken today – there was nothing else for it.

He was distracted by a light clunk at the front door. He forced his eyes open. It was barely daylight. He groaned. Of course it would be Mary so he'd better shake himself. But Mary didn't let herself in. Puzzled, he threw himself out of bed and opened the front door. There wasn't anybody, but there was a big hot pot on the mat.

Archie peered to the street. He didn't see the donor, only Mary walking down the slope, her basket hanging on her arm.

'Can you see anyone, Mary?' Archie called.

Mary let herself through Archie's front gate. 'I passed Joe at the top of Clarke Street,' she replied. 'What's the matter?'

Archie picked up the pot and lifted the lid, its meaty smell causing his mouth to water. 'I guess this is from him.'

They went inside and Mary unpacked her basket of citrus. Archie set the pot on the range. 'I'm grateful for the fruit, Mary.'

'It's nothing,' she replied.

Archie paced the room. 'But it is. This is not a good position to be in. People, Joe, leaving food on my doorstep. It's a disgrace, an embarrassment. A man should be able to put food on the table for his own family.'

'It won't be for long, Archie,' said Mary. 'What's the matter? What's got into you? Is it yourself you feel sorry for? There's not a family in this town that's prepared for this but you have a greater conviction than most. You understand the plight of the working class. Archie! Stand tall for goodness sake. We're depending on you.'

Archie was taken aback. This beautiful woman stood before him in his own home telling him to get a backbone. Mary's golden hair caught the first morning rays of the sun as it beamed into the dining room. How it set her eyes on fire. Archie saw her in that minute like he never had before.

Mary was a sponge for Archie's socialist rhetoric. He knew she could parrot every idea she'd ever heard inside this house. She was thirsty for the cause.

'You're right,' Archie replied. He smiled until Mary's face softened.

'Archie, I know the proposed union is unlikely to get registered and that should be the end of the troubles, but I can tell you there is a certain amount of distrust by the company.'

'Go on.'

'I think you are conceding too much power to the Federation,' Mary explained. 'Look at it this way. The union comprises men who you work with and who management probably would be happy to talk to. But you bring in these men from the Federation who nobody knows and straight away the company gets its back up. Of course it's going to be suspicious. Do you know that the Federation has not even approached the company for a meeting. Father is perplexed.'

Archie stroked his moustache, a gesture that Mary had come to regard as endearing.

'You know the argument is between the proposed union and your union and yet you're allowing the Federation to suggest the argument is between the company and the miners. That is clearly propaganda.'

Archie pulled out a chair. 'Mary. Sit down. I appreciate you are your father's daughter and therefore exposed to the company's point of view.'

She began to protest but Archie continued. 'It's important for me to know how management view things. The fact of the matter is; the Federation has no funds. It needs to raise strike pay by appealing to member unions in a manner that the working man can understand.'

Mary scoffed. 'Oh Archie! Give them some credit. Do you think that you and your colleagues are the only ones who read the Maoriland Worker? That only you understand what the Federation stands for?'

Archie shook his head. 'No, of course not and I absolutely accept what you say. But we don't have time on our side. Our men need to be paid right now – today!' He banged his fist on the table. 'We cannot have families abandoning the town in droves. I have a moral responsibility to see these men right.'

He reached for Mary's hand. They both hesitated. It was the first time Archie had touched a woman since Ann died. He wanted to leave his hand on hers; it was warm and soft. He forced himself to meet Mary's eyes. Her lips parted and her eyelids fluttered avoiding his gaze then she slowly reclaimed her hand.

Fanny came into the room wiping the sleep from her eyes. Mary seized the distraction. 'Why don't you get the fire started while I see to the children.'

She took Fanny by the hand and left Archie to ponder.

* * *

Surprised, Sybil took a step back when Mary opened Archie's front door. 'Mary! What are you doing here?'

'Good morning Mrs. Wright,' Mary said sweetly taking in Sybils' new skirt.

Sybil peered past Mary into the dark hall. 'Is Archie in?'

'No. He's got important work to do,' Mary replied. 'He's on the strike committee.'

Sybil sniffed. 'I must say I'm shocked to see you here. What does your father have to say about it?'

'My father is both progressive and enlightened,' said Mary. 'He believes in women making their own decisions. Besides, mother keeps him in line.'

If Sybil understood the barb directed at her she gave no sign of it.

'But you can't!' she exclaimed. 'Family first, Miss Bell. People will talk.' Sybil waved her arms at the street. 'I don't come here lightly. I don't want people to see me associate with striking miners, let alone a ringleader.'

'Oh, I didn't realise this was about you.'

'Don't be impertinent young lady. Archie needs a strong woman of his own to keep him in line. I shouldn't be the one.'

'Won't I do?'

Sybil huffed and turned to leave but Mary was starting to enjoy herself.

'Do you know what it's like to believe in something, Mrs. Wright? To really believe in something so that the very core of your being becomes integral to that belief? To have a conviction so powerful that to take away the cause is to take away your soul? Did you not fight for women's suffrage? Did you not throw yourself into the Temperance Union? I thank God that this struggle, this struggle for working class emancipation has fallen on my watch.'

Sybil was slack-jawed and Mary continued.

'You sit it your ivory tower cushioned from the harsh realities of life because you had the good fortune to marry an accountant. Well lucky you. What right do you have to judge me because I have the temerity to act upon my convictions! What right do you have to tell Archie what he can and can't do? And as for you trying to find him a wife that you approve of, well, he laughs at you. He is not a toy for you to pull a string and watch him dance to your tune. Mrs. Wright, go out into the streets and talk to miner's wives, pick up their babies, hand them a loaf of bread. Don't you stand on this door step and judge those of whom you know nothing.'

Sybil retreated to the path and rocked the perambulator which Ralphie sat on. She refused to be beaten even though her hands trembled. 'I think, Miss Bell, we should suspend the piano lessons forthwith.'

She marched off with as much dignity as she could muster. Mary gently closed the door and leaned with her back against it, and took several deep breaths before allowing herself a smile.

### Chapter Twelve

The committee set up in a corner of the Miners' Union Hall. William was triumphant. 'The first strike pay will be paid today,' he told the committee. 'In addition some wages will be in the form of groceries. The Federation has purchased goods wholesale which is a great saving to our men.'

Archie drew in a long breath. 'That won't make the local grocers very happy.'

'True,' William replied. 'But we can't look a gift horse in the mouth.'

William read from the telegram in his hand. 'We've got support from the Granity Miners' Union, the Lyttleton Watersiders, the Canterbury Labourers' Union, the Timaru Watersiders, the Manawatu Flaxmillers, the Wellington Tramwaymen, the Karangahake Miners, the Westport Labourers' Union, the Dunedin Waterside Workers and the Wellington Wharf Workers.'

The men broke into smiles and congratulated themselves.

'Finally,' William continued. 'The Thames Miners' Union, which has four thousand pounds in their coffers, has generously donated twenty pounds.'

'The stinking rats,' exclaimed Garrick.

Archie shook his head in disbelief. 'It just shows you that we have work to do. How can so many unions be with us and Thames effectively be against us? It doesn't make sense.'

A plaintiff call in the street distracted them. A paper boy yelled out the headline. ' _Auckland Engine Drivers Allow Firemen. Auckland Engine Drivers..._ '

The men rushed out into the street and Ian gave the boy a coin. They pored over the article.

'Well, that's it then,' said Archie. 'The proposed Waihi Engine Drivers' Union cannot now legally be registered. It's black and white. There cannot be two unions of the same type in an industrial district.'

William pointed to the page. 'It says that the Minister of Labour has been advised of the decision and the matter of the Waihi registration now rests with him.'

Garrick pulled away from the paper. 'What if the Waihi Engine Drivers join the Auckland Engine Drivers? They'd be entitled to.'

'They'd still be against us,' said Archie. 'The point must not be lost that they belong to the Waihi Trade union of Workers and we will not tolerate their insolent departure from our ranks.'

'So we wait,' said Garrick.

'Aye,' William agreed. 'We wait.'

* * *

Gerald let himself quietly in the back door. He could hear music being played on the gramophone and smiled. Music was such a part of Nell he couldn't imagine her without it. She was consumed by music and he loved that.

She hadn't heard him arrive and when he entered the room she had her back to him stoking the fire. Gerald sidled up to her, his hands brushing the delicious curves of her rump. He kissed her neck and she turned into him.

Slowly Gerald undid the buttons on her blouse and helped her out of it. Then she stepped out of her skirt. Gerald traced the lines of her corset with his fingertips until they came to rest on her warm breasts that plumped up above the garment.

The music stopped and the only sounds were the roar of the fire and the groan of Nell as she dropped to her knees pulling Gerald down with her.

They spent the next two hours in each other's embrace; loving, exploring and satisfying, the light of the fire playing over their bodies as they rolled on the sheepskin. Gerald wouldn't let Nell talk, consuming her with kisses each time she threatened to whisper something. But she was happy not to talk, to let their bodies speak instead. Their minutes together were much too precious to waste with talk.

They'd talked plenty in the early days, under the unsuspecting eye of Emily. When Nell became a close friend of Emily during the Christian Women's Temperance days she had spent plenty of time at the Bell house, always talking. Neither she nor Gerald realised they were falling in love. She was younger than Gerald and a widow, and he was clearly happy with his life. But it was the most natural thing in the world to fall in love with Gerald and now, how she loved him still. If this was the only way to fulfil that love, so be it.

Gerald was a generous lover. He surprised Nell frequently with jewellery. Nell had no doubt that Gerald loved her as much as she loved him.

The fire burnt itself out and Gerald traced his hands over the entire length of Nell's body before reluctantly announcing he had to go.

When Gerald returned home talk was of the day's events. The miners had called a meeting to discuss wages.

'That seems a bit optimistic,' said Gerald.

'Why?' asked Mary.

'Because all the contracts have been cancelled as per the contracts which state that in the event of a stop work of forty eight hours the contracts may be cancelled.'

Percy was intrigued. 'Why are they discussing wages now, Dad? I thought the miners went on strike because the engines drivers went out on their own.'

Emily smiled. 'Out of the mouths of babes.'

Gerald rounded on Mary. 'Why do you think that is, Mary?' he asked.

Mary bristled. 'I'm sure I don't know. Although, they must be ready to go back to work if they're discussing wages.'

'Then Jack and I can be friends again,' Percy said.

Gerald was suddenly tired. The talk went round and round, everyone hoping for the best in their own little world. As he excused himself he imagined Nell lying in her bed, her porcelain skin glowing hot from their loving.

* * *

Garrick, Leonard and Buster shared a whisky with the owner of the stables, Blue Harris. The pit ponies had been housed here since the first afternoon of the strike. Garrick was always a keen horseman and he found himself at the stables more than anywhere else these days. It was especially appealing that Blue kept a still at the back of the property.

Percy called in most days after school now that Jack's was out of bounds. His father didn't say he was to go straight home from school and as he wasn't inclined to it didn't take him long to find where to spend an hour. He soon became invaluable to Blue grooming the horses.

Garrick wasn't always there when Percy stopped by but if he was Percy was pleased. Garrick was fun to be around, even if he was on the other side of the strike, and he seemed so knowledgeable about things. Percy thought it best not to let his parents know where he went after school.

Percy rushed into the stables and slung his satchel on a hook. He hollered a greeting to Blue as he walked past the stalls to Dobbin at the end. He glanced to the corner and smiled. The boys were sitting on straw bales having a wee dram, their faces grim.

'What's up?' asked Percy.

It was Garrick who replied. 'Bad news. The union's been registered.'

'But it can't be,' Percy exclaimed. He looked each man in the eyes but they all confirmed. 'It can't,' he repeated.

Garrick poured a splash of whisky in a glass gave it to Percy, who didn't quite know what to do with it. He'd longed for the day when the boys saw him as a man, but he wasn't expecting it today. Garrick didn't dwell on Percy however.

'The Federation wasn't expecting it,' said Garrick. 'But they've been dragging their feet. They're going to have to start talking to the mine owners.' He downed a shot then sucked in a mouthful of air through clenched teeth. 'It's going to get nasty boys, very nasty indeed.'

Part Three June 9

### Chapter Thirteen

The Miners' Union Hall was packed to standing room only as miners and their wives, some with children, crowded in. They wouldn't be quietened. Others were left in the street pushing against the door trying to hear. Pickets mobbed the street outside. Miners had been busy during the day with the outside of the hall littered with graffiti and what had been a prominent God Save the King sign changed to God Save J. B. King, an activist with the Wobblies who had recently been in town.

The strike committee occupied the stage. Archie shared William's apprehension. The miners were angry and who could blame them. They wanted to be heard and they needed someone to listen. William anticipated this depth of feeling so for tonight's meeting had invited Jim Campbell, president of the Federation of Labour and Desmond Nickleback, president of the Auckland General Labourers' Union.

William appealed for calm. 'I reiterate I have not resigned as vice-president of the Federation as Jim here can testify. The newspapers are full of untruths. I urge you to trust your strike committee to give you the absolute truth. The Federation has been behind us and is still behind us one hundred percent. We vigorously tried to prevent the registration of the Waihi Engine Drivers and Firemens' Union. It is untenable that it has been registered. The Minister of Labour is clearly in error, for it is the law that only one such union can be registered in each district.'

The crowd erupted. There was talk of the Minister rescinding the decision to which William replied that the Federation and this Workers' Union would most certainly encourage the Minister to do.

Archie surveyed the crowd and was startled to see Mary seated near the back with Thomas on her knee and Fanny standing in front of her so they only took up one seat. He'd left Mary giving the children their dinner so he could attend this meeting. She hadn't mentioned coming, perhaps anticipating his objection.

Jim Campbell took the stage and pledged support for the union and the miners. He undertook to speak to unions outside the town in order to collect funds and he urged the men to remain strong.

Desmond Nickleback echoed those sentiments. 'You are not alone in this,' he said. 'My union and many others all over the country believe you have been treated abominably by the Waihi Engine Drivers and now also by the Minister of Labour.'

'What's the company doin' about it?' a voice rang out. The crowd erupted.

'That's a good question,' said Ian taking the stage. 'Of course we asked George Graham, president of the Goldmine Owners' Association, to come here tonight to address your concerns.' Ian dramatically swept his arms across the stage. 'As you can see he did not show.'

The crowd booed and bellowed. It took Ian a while to calm them enough to continue. 'I can tell you however, that a conference has been arranged between the Federation and the Goldmine Owners' Association. It is unlikely that George Graham will continue his ludicrous accusation that the Waihi Trade Union of Workers will work amicably with the Waihi Engine Drivers and Firemens' Union.' The crowd cheered.

William took centre stage once more. 'On the meeting with the Goldmine Owners' Association; if I could explain. The Federation telegrammed the Association to set up a meeting. However, the telegram appeared not to make its destination or in fact, the telegraph office. Unfortunately the boy entrusted with such messages spent the money on lollies and as two or three boys were involved on this occasion the charge could not be brought home to one particular individual.' A snigger rippled through the hall.

Finally someone put a motion to the floor that the union endorse the actions of the Federation. This was seconded and discussed at great length, eventually swinging to the complete opposite. Archie proposed that the safest plan would be to withdraw the motion since if it went to a vote it would surely lose. Then it would look like the Federation doesn't have the support of the union when it undoubtedly gets reported upon and appears in the press. The mover and seconder agreed to withdraw it.

William addressed the crowd. 'I'm aware of the lateness of the hour. This committee is resolute that we will strike until we achieve unity. We thank you all for remaining solid. There being no more business tonight I declare the meeting closed.'

Archie leaped off the stage and made his way to Mary. She was crushed in the throng as the crowd moved onto the street. Fanny started to cry and clung tightly to her skirts.

'Mary,' Archie called. 'Mary.'

Mary sucked in the fresh air as she stepped into the night and set Thomas down. Fanny grabbed the little boy's hand. Suddenly Archie was at Mary's side and he placed his arm gently on her elbow as he guided her away from the bustle.

'I was surprised to see you,' he said.

'I'm sorry,' Mary replied. 'I should have asked you. About the children I mean.'

Archie wanted to stop her in her tracks, take her face in both his hand and kiss her on the mouth. He wanted to tell her it didn't matter, that he knew she was there for him. He wanted to see her grey eyes laugh like diamonds at his touch. But tonight was not a jubilant night; it was not a night for untested love.

'Well at least it's Sunday tomorrow,' he said.

She walked on taking Fanny by the hand. Archie hoisted Thomas onto his shoulder. Mary smiled but she could not look into Archie's chocolate eyes lest she reveal her fluttering heart.

* * *

Mary waited at the school gate with Thomas and several mothers. Today the tension between the women seemed greater than yesterday, and there was a definite separation between the wives of the strikers and the others.

The bell rang and the children spilled out of the classrooms. Mary watched Jack amble up the grass bank alone towards home. Percy walked slowly up the steps to Mary. He dug his hands deep into his pockets.

'What's the matter Perce?' asked Mary.

Percy scuffed a shoe on the path. 'Look around you, Mary,' he said. 'The only person in school anywhere near my age is Jack and he's not allowed to be my friend, nor I his.'

'Oh rubbish. There are lots of boys your age.'

'Well they're not Jack!' Percy cried.

'No, they aren't. And I bet if you talked to some of them I'm sure you'll find another friend.'

'Too late.'

'What do you mean? Why is it too late?'

'It's a battleground now,' said Percy.

Mary took another look at the children. They had formed into cliques and parted as they walked towards the gate. A voice rang out to the left of her.

'Don't you talk to her, Lucy.' It was the blacksmith's wife instructing her daughter not to talk to the daughter of a miner.

Percy reproached his sister. 'See?'

'I'm sorry, Percy,' said Mary. 'I didn't realise.'

'That's because you hide away in Archie Wright's house and have no care for the rest of us.'

'That's not true,' Mary replied. 'I do care.'

'Then why are you against us?' Percy cried.

At that moment Fanny ran to Mary. At least she looked happy, Mary thought. The girl was too young to understand, thankfully.

Mary took the girl by the hand and started to walk home but Fanny's teacher, Meg Binnie, called out. 'Ladies, could I have a quick word before you leave?'

Meg was diminutive and blonde, a sharp contrast to her brother Garrick. 'I must ask you not to voice your opinions in front of the children. They have to get along with each other. They are at school all day with nowhere else to go. Their parents are fighting the parents of their friends but they don't need to fight. Let them be children. Please.'

Mary watched Percy trudge into town. Perhaps he had a harder time of it than she realised. He was a bright lad: he had a good understanding of the facts. That made it hard for him. He wasn't a pawn in his father's game, or was he?

'Mary!' It was Meg. 'You know there's a dance tomorrow night. Ernie is taking me. Garrick was wondering whether you might like to go with him.'

'Goodness!' Mary flushed red. She'd never given Garrick a second glance. She'd never tell Meg that Garrick was too rough and ready for her, although he was roguishly handsome. Thank goodness though that he'd made an approach through Meg.

'I'm afraid not, Meg,' Mary replied. 'I promised Archie I'd help him with a speech.'

It was as surprising to Mary as it was to Meg. It wasn't inconceivable that she would help Archie but it was outlandish that she should lie like that, and so naturally too.

Meg gave Mary a little squeeze on her arm and the smile on Meg's face spoke volumes. As Mary walked Fanny and Thomas home she reflected on the events of the last two days. The world had become very complicated.

* * *

The streets weren't as busy these days, four weeks into the strike. Many people had left town with or without the permission of the strike committee, much to the disgust of the union executive who felt that the action undermined the strike.

A cold breeze funnelled down Seddon Street and Mary pulled her jacket tightly against her before pulling Thomas' hat down over his ears.

Nell came out of the grocers, juggling boxes too big for her hands. Mary caught a packet of tea as it escaped Nell's grasp.

'Let me help you, Nell,' said Mary relieving Nell of some packages.

'Oh, I'll be right, dear. Just pile them into my arms.' Nell held her arms out.

'Nonsense,' Mary said laughing. 'I'll walk home with you. It's nearly on my way.'

'Are you not going to the meeting?' asked Nell.

Mary looked across the road to the hall. 'Archie's in there now. There's a good crowd again but it's mostly miners. Besides, I don't want to embarrass him.'

Nell wandered towards the hall. 'Doesn't mean we can't listen. Come on.'

A few picketers milled around the front of the hall. Mary and Nell edged up to the great double doors. William brought the meeting up to date on recent developments. The Federation had pledged an active campaign on behalf of the Waihi strikers and their Reefton counterparts who were locked out, and to promote public meetings in all centres. This met with general approval. He went on to say that the Federation would condemn the company's attempt to introduce the single handed popper drill.

Mary frowned at Nell who simply shrugged.

Ian addressed the meeting by reading out a circular that the Federation executive had sent to its Australian counterpart. 'A bitter warfare is raging in New Zealand against militant labour organisation and unionism but the two thousand men on strike or locked out are fighting for the right to refuse to work with a scab union on the grounds that this would imperil the solidarity and working class principle. Further, we fight against the compulsory use of a popper by one miner instead of two as this greatly increases the risk of miners' phthisis, not to mention the risk to life and limb.' The meeting noisily agreed and Ian brought the meeting to silence. He continued. 'In addition, our unions oppose the further introduction of the sub-contract system. The circular goes on to ask for financial assistance, adding that in the past New Zealand miners have not been backward in aiding the unionists of Australia in their battles.'

Mary whispered to Nell. 'Gosh, it's fighting talk isn't it?'

'It has to be,' said Nell. 'Riles them up and keeps them strong.'

'Oh?'

For a minute Nell was absorbed in her own thoughts.

'Nell?'

'Oh yes, dear,' Nell replied. 'I've seen it all before. Coal.'

Mary pulled Nell away. 'Nell, the Federation is bringing more and more into the dispute. Why, every time there's a meeting we learn the Federation has done this or that.'

'It's the right time to do it,' said Nell.

'But it's changing the reason the men struck.'

'As long as the men continue to strike then they're happy for the Federation to fight for new demands.'

'It seems scurrilous to me,' Mary muttered.

Nell lowered her voice so even little Thomas couldn't hear. 'Mary, some of the wives are loosely organising themselves into a group. They call themselves Scarlet Runners.'

'Beans?'

Nell laughed. 'I rather though scarlet as in red, and red as in socialism.'

Mary frowned. 'Of course. What do they do?'

'At the moment they run messages and the like.' Nell nodded towards the picketers. 'See those women?'

In amongst the men were two women waving placards calling for unity.

'They're standing in for their sick husbands.'

'Are you asking me to become a scarlet runner?'

'You've clearly shown you're colours, Mary. Although you might not want to openly join. Your father would have heart failure if you went that far.'

Mary gazed back at the hall and pictured Archie and his committee fronting those hundreds of miners. There was no turning back for Archie.

'Hmm,' she mused. 'Indeed.'

### Chapter Fourteen

The men piled into the company offices and slapped the rain off their suits. The sudden cold squall had caught them unawares. The delegates from the Federation, including William, numbered five, compared to eight from the Goldminers' Association. If the unionists weren't apprehensive before now the unbalanced numbers soon put them on edge.

George Graham chaired the meeting and introduced Hector Fryer, the Waihi Goldmining Company superintendent and Gerald Bell, as well as mine owner representatives from Auckland, Reefton and Karangahake.

'We've met with your request for a meeting. Let's hear what you have to say,' George began.

Ernie Hardcastle, the Federation organiser from Wellington, spoke first. 'We understand the Goldminers' Association wishes the press to be present. We are against that. The press reports have frequently contained misrepresentations that we feel lead to misunderstandings. The public have a right to the truth and the press has proved not to be relied upon.'

His colleagues muttered agreement.

'That's as maybe,' said George. 'However, I'm sure you'll agree that whatever agreement we come to would be binding through the Arbitration Court.'

'The Federation has no intention of going through the Arbitration Court,' said William.

George laboured his point but the Federation would not alter its position. Jim Campbell pushed the meeting forward.

'William tells me that the company knew of the formation of the Engine Drivers' Union and actually had some hand in its formation,' he said.

Gerald's jaw dropped. 'The untruths are not restricted to the press gentlemen,' he said.

Jim was undeterred. 'It was your duty to prevent a new union being formed.'

George was indignant. 'I can assure you that the Waihi Gold Company had no knowledge of a proposed Engine Drivers' Union and that it only came to light when the strike was declared. Mr. Fryer will testify that no complaint was received about the union being formed.'

Hector murmured agreement.

William banged his fist on the table. 'The fact of the matter is the new union is a minority of forty two men. That tiny minority tried to coerce a majority and the Waihi Gold Company knew about it then sat on their hands.'

'Absolute rubbish,' George scoffed. There was a rumble of discontent around the table. 'You seem to want something that we as goldmine owners cannot give you, Mr. Strawbridge. You want an agreement with us without seeing it enforced through the courts and yet the Federation is infamous for not respecting agreements. It's nothing for you to set aside perfectly legal binding agreements. The Goldminers' Association might be unwise to make any agreements with you.'

A rumble erupted again. Men shuffled.

Jim wasn't deterred. 'Gentlemen, some of us have travelled a long way for this meeting. Don't let's descend to mudslinging. 'Now,' he said addressing Hector Fryer. 'What's the company doing about the one man poppers?'

'It's a proposal,' Hector replied. 'It's not agreed upon, and neither is it thrown out.'

'They're not used in Australia you know,' William added.

'I know that and I can only reiterate what I just said. The company has not made a decision on popper drills.'

Jim brought his full height to bear. 'I see no use in wasting any more time. It's quite clear that the mine owners have no intention of entering an agreement with the union other than binding them down as slaves. I regret nothing has been achieved today. I bid you good day.'

William backed up the Federation's sentiments. 'Before the president leaves the meeting I'd like our thanks recorded. The Waihi Union of Trade Workers thanks the Federation president, Jim Campbell, and the Federation organiser, Ernie Hardcastle, for travelling from Wellington to attend this meeting. I echo Jim's words that it's regrettable we cannot agree on anything. Ours is a hard task, a task made harder by the fact that the press and the non-working class are against us. Well look out! The gloves are off and it will be a bare-knuckled fight to the bitter end.'

With that the full Federation delegation left.

* * *

Mary wrapped the revolver in a cloth and hid it in the kitchen cupboard. Isabelle McCardie insisted she take it. For protection, she said, as if Mary needed protecting. It was incredible that Isabelle had a firearm; sales had been banned three weeks ago. It made Mary nervous but she took it anyway – if only to demonstrate her conviction to the cause. Besides, Archie's refusal to answer her query confirmed that he did indeed see the need for one.

The house was glum; the fog hadn't lifted yet and it was already lunchtime. Mary heard the front door open and the thought of Archie nearly catching her with a revolver made her heart beat wildly. She rushed to meet him.

'I didn't expect you,' she said.

Archie grinned as he threw some papers on the table. 'Any chance of some tea?' he asked.

Mary jumped to the task.

'Will and Floyd are on a speaking tour around the Waikato,' Archie explained. 'It leaves the rest of us on the committee with a bit more work to do.' He picked up the Maoriland Worker. We need to keep our issue fresh to our supporters. That means keeping our viewpoints in front of them every opportunity we have. I'm going to write about the Industrial Workers of the World.'

'You don't think you might alienate them instead?' Mary asked.

'That's a good question. I suspect you think it would.' He was guarded, careful not to show his pleasure that Mary was so interested.

Mary poured the tea and Archie pulled a chair out. 'Please sit. I'm keen to hear how I might alienate my reader.'

Mary's eyes danced. 'I've seen some of your work and I have to say that it's, it's...' She hesitated. 'Academic.'

Archie laughed. 'Is that a surprise to you? You surely would not have me speak like a miner so as to be understood by the working class! No, Mary. It isn't a case of making the men feel inferior and therefore feel the need to be led by the few who are more articulate. I believe many men feel in their hearts sentiments they cannot elucidate. They should know that they are not alone, that men in Australia, the United Kingdom, the United States, in fact all over the globe, men are fighting a similar struggle. This knowledge will strengthen their resolve and help them to stand solid.'

Mary supped her tea. 'I'm surprised that someone with your background should so vehemently support a class that you don't belong to,' she said. 'You cannot deny that you are different from your colleagues. And you're different from William and Ian. They've been miners since they went into long pants.'

Archie gazed out the window. It was still white.

'I was fortunate that I received a very good education, like my father had. He owned a commercial building but if the tenant could ever not afford the rent he never kicked them out. They did their utmost to make money, put food on the table. Every sale made in that shop, every hour worked was honest earned wages. The rent my father received could be viewed as unearned income. Could a working class man, a miner, a watersider, a tramwayman, make unearned income? No. They could not. Of course unearned income is not really unearned for the term takes no account of capital outlay and the cost of expertise, whether it's the owner's or a contractor to the owner, or of acquiring the property in the first place. However, it was my father's benevolence to the tenant that forced me to analyse the ideas in considerable depth.'

'But you were a mine manager before you came here,' said Mary. 'Isn't that the opposite what you stand for now?'

Archie smiled. 'Another very good question. I've often asked myself this very thing.' Archie cupped his teacup with both hands, enjoying its warmth. 'Not really. I know management isn't in the unions but in fact as manager I have a better input into the welfare of my men. It's the best job in the world, Mary.'

Now it was Mary who grinned. Archie was enjoying talking to her like this and she was enjoying him. She'd almost forgotten about the revolver.

'Tell me how you went from a capitalist's son to a mine manager,' she teased.

'Oh life throws you an orange sometimes when you're expecting apples,' Archie continued. 'I got a scholarship at the end of my studies to go to Auckland University College.' He smiled as he remembered. 'It was worth fifty pounds a year. I'd excelled in geology, mineralogy and metallurgy: that was all part of the mine manager certificate. Your father would have done the same.'

'What did you study at the university?' asked Mary.

Archie tightened. 'I didn't go. Ann was pregnant.'

Mary sensed Archie's disappointment. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.'

'Nonsense,' he replied and topped up their cups. 'I have Frances, Fanny.'

'Of course you do.'

'And what about you, Mary? If I am an enigma to you, I must confess it has puzzled me that you should take such an opposing stance to the rest of your family.'

Mary felt a flush creep into her face, sure that Archie already knew some of the reason. 'Nothing as profound as you. I'd never heard of the Wobblies until I heard you speak of it.' She stood and Archie suddenly stood and took her hand.

'Mary,' he whispered. 'Don't shut off from me. Talk to me.'

Archie's touch was mellow on her hand and her chest heaved as she felt his hand gently stroke her arm.

'Mary,' he whispered again.

He swung her to face him. His chocolate eyes swam all over her face, gazing at her eyes, her mouth, her throat. She let him draw her in to him and then he kissed her softly and warmly. It was the most tender kiss but Mary stiffened when she should have melted in his arms, but she didn't push him away.

He broke off his kiss and brushed her hair off her face. He seemed to drink in every inch of her. But he couldn't pull himself away. Finally he found his voice.

'I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'I've wanted to do that for such a long time.'

Mary's eyes sparkled. 'You have?'

Archie could barely get any words out. 'Yes.'

Mary took Archie's hand. It was strong and warm. 'Then you must do it again.'

This time Mary melted under him and his kiss couldn't have been sweeter.

### Chapter Fifteen

Jack had been on hot coals all day. Once the idea popped into his head he couldn't wait to instigate his plan. In fact, he'd only thought of it this morning when he saw one of the children ride to school. It was the steam rising off the dung that gave him the idea.

School was unbearable now that he couldn't play with Percy. He understood his father's view, no trouble with that. But his father didn't have to spend the whole day actually talking to people on the other side. He could avoid them if he wished. Jack couldn't. And to make matters worse he would turn fifteen in a couple of weeks and as long as there was no work he had to stay at school. It was intolerable.

Jack's father spoke freely of the strike at home. Jack and Errol absorbed his opinions and came to share his views: namely that management had forced the strike by condoning the formation of a new union. They soon became versed in union speak and in the wider subject of class warfare.

It was increasingly easy to alienate Percy, for he stood for the ruling class. Deep down he always knew Percy wouldn't go underground with him. His father had higher aspirations for him, no matter how much Percy down-played it.

Jack waited until dusk to retrieve the dung. On a day like today it hadn't dried out. Then he scooted along the main street bold as brass until he got to the end of the block. Here he became furtive and made sure no one saw him slip into the short dead end road that housed the Bell house. He slipped into a hedge at the corner of the road and took the lay of the land. Coal fire smoke was thick in the air and a light fog threatened. A faint amber glow could be seen in the house.

Suddenly footsteps approached and Jack froze. He watched Gerald walk past. The man looked happy; too happy compared to everyone else who had the world and his dog on their shoulders. Jack's father was right; management was playing them like a fiddle. Gerald probably got his wages while everyone else made do with donations. It was more than right that Jack not associate with Percy.

Jack waited until Gerald walked into the house. He saw someone pull the blinds down then made his move, running to the letterbox and stuffing the dung inside. He quickly retreated pausing long enough at the corner of the road to wipe his hands on the grass.

By the time Jack returned home William was just arriving. Jack looked forward to hearing about his father's day. He wished he could tell him what he'd done. William would love it; probably wish he could do it himself. Jack smiled smugly to himself.

* * *

Emily dished up dinner, tired of the silence of the family. They each seemed to be lost in their own world. It wasn't that the mood around the table was heavy, just that they were preoccupied with their own thoughts. They didn't understand that the strike affected her too. Didn't she have to go to town to do the daily shop? Wasn't it she who spent the day with Rosa, a girl who clearly was on the side of the strikers but persisted with her job because the rest of her family was on strike? And of course to the good grace of Emily.

Sam broke the silence. 'I hear there's work on the Thames,' he said. 'Thought I would have a look.'

The whole family stopped eating and stared at Sam.

Mary clattered her knife and fork onto her plate. 'You're not serious,' she exclaimed.

Sam spoke through mouthfuls. 'Why not?'

Mary scoffed. 'Because you have a duty to your so-called Engine Drivers and Firemens' Union to stay with them. You've been locked out, Sam. You're getting lock-out pay.'

'So?'

Gerald rolled his eyes. 'Mary's point is one of loyalties. It's your fault Sam that we're in this bloody mess.'

'Gerald, please.' It was Emily. 'There's no need for swearing.'

'It's not my fault,' Sam whined. 'I'm sick of you all blaming me.'

Emily stepped in. 'Your father's not blaming you, Samuel. He blames your union. Don't you Gerald?'

Gerald waved his knife in the air. 'The boy's got to take some responsibility, Emily. Stop mollycoddling him.'

'Well what about her?' asked Sam staring at Mary. 'She's not even getting paid by Archie Wright.' He spat the name. 'She'd still have her piano teaching if she didn't defect to the strikers.'

Mary bristled. 'At least I know what principles guide me. I'm not going to run off and work for an Arbitrationist for a bit of money. Anyway, that's not true. No one has money for music lessons anymore, no one.'

'See how she talks now?' spat Sam. 'Arbitrationist!'

Percy finally saw an opportunity to display his understanding. 'That's you Sam, someone who supports the Arbitration Act. Everyone else is a Federationist.'

Sam looked questioningly at Percy. 'I don't,' he said with a quick shake of his head. 'I support my union – the engine drivers' union.'

'But they _are_ Abitrationists,' Percy persisted.

Sam continued to eat. 'I don't care what you think they are. All I know is I'm in a new union and I want to get back to work.'

Gerald and Emily were surprised at Percy's knowledge.

'You've been staying away from Jack, I hope,' Gerald grumped.

'Yes, father.'

Mary resumed her meal. She felt bad for Sam being shown up by Percy and she could see that Gerald's face brightened when Percy spilled out his union knowledge. She wouldn't add to Sam's discomfort by resuming the discussion. Mary cast a look to Emily who shot a look back under hooded lids. It was time to keep quiet and finish dinner. It was better than arguing.

* * *

Archie went to Joe's for the fortnightly family dinner. The children rushed off to play. Sybil had taken Darcy, Beth and Elsie out of school, fearful of their safety and now they looked forward to Fanny and Thomas' visits more than ever. Archie groaned inwardly: there on the chaise lounge sat a fashionable young lady waiting to be presented to him. Now more than ever he wished Sybil would stop interfering.

Sybil made the introductions. Miss Elizabeth Buxton of Tahuna had the misfortune to lose her fiancé in the tragic sinking of the Waitara as it floundered on the rocks off Rangitoto Island. Archie was to consider himself lucky that a woman of such esteem had become available.

'I'm very sorry for your loss, Miss Buxton,' said Archie. 'Allow me to get you a drink.'

Archie shuffled Sybil out of the room then rounded on her. 'Sybil, this is too much! You can stop your silly games right now. I have a lady.'

'What?'

'You heard. Mary and I...'

'Mary!'

'I'll not have a word spoken against her,' he replied. 'I know you've fired her from teaching.'

'Suspended.'

'Well I suspect you'll upgrade that now,' he mused.

Sybil dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. 'What am I to do with Elizabeth now?'

'That's not my problem.'

Archie fixed Elizabeth a drink and took it back into her leaving Sybil to fume.

* * *

Mary clutched Thomas' little hand as they wandered up the street to Nell's music academy. She had noticed a gradual change in the shop windows. At Roberts' Pictures a blind hung in the door and a closed sign swung its message: The Photographers of the Hauraki, Karangahake and Thames Goldfields had suspended operations. There were window displays of wooden easels without the black and whites. It seemed every day there was another empty shop.

It filled Mary with urgency. And anger. She quickened her pace so that Thomas was forced to skip to keep up.

A festive air filled Nell's studio as Mary arrived. Some had placards and paint in hand. Nell insisted the blinds be drawn; she must appear neutral. She had a business to run after all. Nell hadn't set out to play mother hen to the strikers' wives but she enjoyed it nevertheless.

The women brought their children along. Mary studied Isabelle's placard. It read ' _Repeal the Arbitration Act_ '.

'You don't think that's a step too far?' asked Mary.

Isabelle stepped back to survey her work, one hand protectively rubbing her swollen belly. 'Certainly not.' The others crowded around the sign. 'We must make the most of every opportunity. The strike is widely reported. Waihi is a town on everyone's lips. Think what is at the crux of this strike. The Arbitration Act is oppressive. The system compels unions to adhere to unfair wages. Why, there is no provision that wages increase with the cost of living! Employers continually pay workers at less than agreed rates. And the Act doesn't even compel employers to pay for all hours worked.'

Mary was impressed. Isabelle was passionate and articulate. She also displayed an understanding of the strike that was quite beyond that of the average housewife.

Nell grinned. 'I think you would do well to accompany your husband on speaking tours, Isabelle.'

'Ian hasn't been speaking. It's William and Floyd doing that,' she replied.

Isabelle looked at Clara. 'It's a good idea though. What do you say Clara? Could you do it? The two of us, supporting our husbands on tours?'

Clara was aghast. 'Oh, heavens no. Besides, I'm due in two months.'

'All the better to gain public sympathy,' said Nell.

Clara stuttered. 'I couldn't.'

Nell toyed with her hair while she considered the idea. 'I think you could give a talk Isabelle. Try one here in Waihi. Talk to the wives. If it works out then go further afield.'

Isabelle liked the idea. She backed her husband fiercely. She'd met Ian in Auckland at a Socialist Party event where her father was a local candidate. At that time Ian McCardie was a trade union organiser with a background in coal mining in Scotland. He was a rough diamond to the well-bred Isabelle. By the time they'd cemented their love Ian had joined the New Zealand Federation of Labour. But he wouldn't give up mining. He felt he could better represent his brotherhood if he stood alongside them. If he was called to greater things, say for example, national politics, he'd consider giving up mining. But for the moment it was a hands on fight for Ian and Isabelle.

'I suppose I could,' she mused. Already her mind whirled with the rhetoric of victorious speeches. 'Our mothers fought for temperance, our grandmothers for suffrage. We stand for united workers,' she thought aloud.

Clara wandered back to her placard. 'Will mine do?' The knot of women moved to view it. ' _Fair wages_ ' it read.

Mary and Isabelle frowned.

Mary frowned. 'My father says it's not about wages at all,' said Mary. The women stared at her as if she was the enemy and it was Nell who steered the conversation.

'Go on, dear,' Nell said. 'What does Gerald say about it?'

'He says it's not the reason for striking at all. There was a report on mines released last year dealing with mine safety and workers' rights. This covers wages. He says the engine drivers didn't see its contents pertaining to them and they felt undermined. He says if the strike was anything to do with safety and rights the union would have quoted that report on day one. And they didn't.'

'So when did wages become an issue?' asked Bessie Wynyard, a miner's wife of some twenty years.

Mary continued. 'Archie says the company clearly sat on its hands over the breakaway union. Even if it is as the company says and they did not know of the proposed union, they jolly well did nothing to bring them back into line. Of course everyone sees the company against the union. Let's face it, companies don't like unions anyway.'

Bessie looked perplexed. 'But why wages? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we shouldn't be demanding fair wages, but if it's as your dad says, then how did the wage question arise?'

Mary was quick to answer. 'It was already under discussion when the strike was declared,' she explained. 'The contract system of wages and the use of the one man popper drill were being discussed at the leisure of the company well before the engine drivers broke away. Clara's perfectly correct. It's a wonderful sign, Clara.'

Clara smiled. She was familiar with Mary's explanation of course, as the wife of the vice president of the Waihi Trade Union of Workers. But Clara was more than happy to be a quiet supporter of the cause. Secretly she thought of herself as a pink runner. She greatly admired Isabelle and she'd overcome her initial reservations at Mary's defection. Not that all daughters of middle management should follow their father's beliefs, whether those tendencies were liberal or social, but to Clara, Mary's situation was undeniably brave. The girl had backbone, of that Clara was in no doubt.

Nell took Clara's sign away and placed another placard on the table. 'Do you have time to make another one? We'll need plenty.'

Clara looked across the room at her four year old, Tom. He was happy enough playing with wooden blocks, stacking them as high as he could without them toppling over.

'Of course,' Clara agreed. She stepped over to Mary's table. ' _Workers Unite_ ' Mary had painted in large black letters. And underneath in smaller letters were the words ' _An Injury to One is an Injury to All_ '.

Clara smiled. If she'd ever doubted Mary's conviction she could rest easy now.

* * *

The Academy Theatre was packed. Isabelle proved to be a bigger drawcard than expected. The girls had posted notices around the town and whole families had turned out to hear her speak, little ones wrapped in blankets against the fierce Waihi cold.

The keynote speaker was Ernie Hardcastle, the organiser for the Federation. He began by explaining the National Coal Strike in Britain which saw nearly one million miners strike for thirty seven days from February until April that year. Those miners were under the same contract system of pay that the New Zealand miners were on. This wasn't surprising given that mine owners, indeed, miners had not long come out from the home country. Ernie himself had a broad English accent.

Listeners were heartened that the English miners had won with the adoption of the Minimum Wage Act. The crowd erupted. 'We are already forty days into our strike,' he said, 'and we have the backing of unions up and down the country. Although a thousand people have left the town the fight has not and will not diminish. The union continues to store coal: we will not see our brothers go short but we will use the coal as a bargaining tool. Our supplier in Huntly supports us one hundred percent. We have pay levies from the Coalminers' Union but we must prepare ourselves in case they down tools to show further support. I have to tell you though, that not all New Zealand unions support you. The Wellington Operative Bakers' Union turned down the offer to help you but instead voted to donate ten pounds to the wives and children of the London dockers.'

He shrugged his shoulders in disbelief and the crowd uttered their distaste. Ernie let it settle in everyone's minds before continuing. 'I have a newspaper article from the Press outlining the views of Archdeacon Skinner. He is firmly of the opinion that the engine drivers are in error and that the Conciliation and Arbitration Act must be and I quote, ' _considerably amended and amplified in its administration.' He goes on to say that 'mediation could end the strike although a more complete provision for settlement requires a greater incentive to faithful fulfilment._ '

It was fairly impartial but Ernie used it to demonstrate the sort of comment the strike was attracting on a national level.

'Some of you will be aware that the Minister for Mines, the Honourable Maxwell Blackwood, was asked to intervene on your behalf. I am saddened to inform you that he declined to do so stating that the quarrel is amongst the men themselves rather than between the men and the company. He was not impressed that the Mine Owners' Association had coupled the Reefton and Waihi strikes together and more or less blamed the Goldmine Owners for the protracted strike.'

Ernie swung the talk back to the victorious National Coal strike in Britain to uplift the crowd, then William introduced Isabelle, qualifying her in glowing terms as the strong woman behind her hard working dedicated husband.

The women in the audience applauded on their feet. Isabelle was the first woman to address a mass meeting. She studied the faces in front of her. Ian sat in the front row with the children. He saw this as a test for both of them. For if Isabelle was successful he would be a confident candidate for the New Zealand Socialist Party, something they had thought more and more about lately. He smiled anxiously. Several Scarlet Runners and their families also occupied the front rows. Mary sat with Archie and the children, one on each of their laps. Clara, as always looked like a breakable porcelain doll, calmly sat with her own Floyd and Tom but also William's three children. Isabelle took a deep breath and flattened the page she was holding. There wasn't a sound from anyone.

Isabelle spoke eloquently and boldly. Her knowledge of the principles of the strike was unquestionable and she conveyed a fervour of passion for the cause that was infectious. Several times she aroused cheers from the crowd and she felt confident enough to abandon her notes. She implored the wives to stand in pickets for husbands that couldn't, appealed for letter writers to newspapers and complimented the women for standing for unity. She used her pregnancy to good effect and she introduced her little ones to an already agreeable crowd.

Mary was enthralled. Isabelle spoke to her as if she was the only one in the room. She was ignorant of Archie's gaze on her as she realised she wanted to be up there with her friend. She wanted to feel the adulation that this crowd clearly had for Isabelle.

Not once did Isabelle hint at the organised band of women or the stash of arms, or at how ugly a fight she foresaw. Instead she focused on positive social aspects: checking on neighbours to see they had enough to eat, to protect the children from abusive comments which could lead to misunderstandings and the breakdown of those very special childhood relationships. She asked everyone to remember their own school days and friends. How would they have felt if their mother suddenly told them not to be friends with their best friend.

Errol kicked Jack when he heard that.

When Isabelle finished she realised that her heart wasn't thumping in her chest as it had at the start. She had enjoyed herself immensely. Ian took the children with him and joined Isabelle on stage for a rounding applause.

Archie took Mary's hand and gave it a squeeze. Neither of them needed to speak: they beamed at each other.

* * *

Archie walked Mary home, he with Thomas on his shoulders and she taking Fanny by the hand. As they neared the end of the commercial strip and there was no one around Archie reached for Mary's hand. He slowed down.

'Mary,' he said. 'These are extraordinary times and our days are filled with uncertainty. None of us have everyday lives.' Archie hesitated. 'I'm trying to say, Mary, that I don't know how to court you.'

Mary smiled and it made him glow inside. 'Oh Archie.' She squeezed his hand harder than she meant to. 'Oh Archie, I know.'

'Do you? Do you know what you mean to me, Mary?'

They'd almost come to a halt and Fanny tugged at Mary's hand. 'Come on,' the girl whined.

'She's right,' said Archie as he stepped up the pace. 'What am I thinking of keeping you out in the cold.'

In a minute they were at the corner of Mary's road. There was no light save for a quarter moon and in the distance a dot of candlelight could be seen in the Bell house.

Archie pulled Mary to a stop and before she knew it he kissed her and whispered against her face. 'Goodnight my love.'

Mary flushed. She let go of Fanny's hand to caress Archie's cheek. 'Until tomorrow,' she whispered.

Archie sighed as he watched her dart off home. She didn't want him to walk her to the house given the state her father was in over her stance.

Archie walked back past the pump house before turning down the hill for home. Mary's father pulled his cap over his ears and pulled his collar up. It was too late to retreat. Archie already saw him. The best he could do was look confident.

Archie tipped his hat. 'Mr. Bell,' he said, his breath condensing in front of his face.

Gerald coughed. If he wasn't so close to Nell's he'd have torn a strip off the man. Instead he choked a reply. 'Good evening, Mr. Wright.'

Gerald didn't pause to talk and Archie's need to get the children home out of the cold provided him with an excuse to keep walking. But Archie did peek over his shoulder at Gerald and a thin smile played on his lips.

### Chapter Sixteen

William and Floyd left for Auckland to address former Waihi miners at the Opera House. The workers denied that they'd left Waihi because they opposed the strike and to prove it they passed a resolution expressing belief in the cause for which the men were fighting, namely: the principle of unionism.

William's absence provided Jack with the opportunity he'd been waiting for. The dung incident, although exciting to Jack, hadn't even been noteworthy enough to raise a discussion in the school playground. Percy had kept it to himself. He needed to do something to cause a stir.

Jack slipped out of school at lunchtime. He skipped along the back of the shops, past the pump house and round the bottom of the hill where he darted in and out of hedges. He neared the Bell house and sat in some bushes for a while. He was in luck; Sam left the house. He could account for Percy and he knew Percy's sister would be at Archie's. That left Gerald and Emily, and probably the housekeeper. But Jack was sure Gerald wouldn't be spending his days at home.

He watched Sam pass within feet of him, then sneaked around the back of the house. He clutched his jacket tight against the cold and surveyed the yard. It was a good job it was a bleak winter's day. Emily wouldn't be outside now, unless she needed firewood or coal. He heard the thump of footsteps in the house and for a minute he felt his heart beating. He warmed his hands with his breath then darted to the end of the section where the house cow was tethered.

'Come on, darlin',' he murmured taking hold of her tether.

He nervously looked toward the house. Still nothing. 'Come on.' He gave the cow a light flick of her tail and she allowed herself to be led by him.

Jack trotted her along the side of the house, out of the yard and down the street. Here, instead of turning right to go back into town, he led the cow straight on, skirting the rough pasture that adjoined the mine land. Soon he stumbled upon the track that wound up the hill to the company's office. This time there would be witnesses, all of the management with any luck. Wouldn't Gerald get the surprise of his life to see his cow tethered there.

Jack scouted around for a stick to use as a stake and tied the cow off before scooting out of sight of the office. He squatted in the long grass until his heart beat softened. It was ages since he'd been up here. He used to come up with Percy. That was before they built the tree hut. No one used the track now, at least he didn't think so.

He sucked in a breath of soot laden air. Below him every house had a chimney belching smoke. He sighed. Waihi was all he'd known, mining was his vocation. Jack idly kicked at a tuft of grass. What rotten luck to finally be of an age to go mining, to work alongside his father, and now be stuck in the middle of a stupid strike.

Jack slowly made his way home, not caring this time who might have seen him. He climbed into the tree hut where he would regale Errol with his adventure.

* * *

Mary heard the front gate click on the latch. Immediately her heart leapt. Silly, for she didn't react so when she first came to work for Archie. Their love had been a gradual awakening, a slow realisation that they were in love. It hadn't hit like a train, or a bolt out of the blue. Mary felt like a lion's prey, a gazelle perhaps, aware that within Archie was something magnificent and complex and wonderful. When he held her eyes with his chocolate ones she knew she wanted to leap into him; to explore, to share, to love.

She straightened her skirt and threaded stray strands of hair behind her ears. Archie entered the room frowning.

'Why didn't you tell me?' he said.

'What?'

'The cow!' Archie exclaimed. He leaned in to kiss her.

Mary melted. 'Cow,' she murmured then finally broke off their kiss. 'I didn't want to worry you. You have enough to worry about.'

'Yes I do, darling,' Archie replied. 'And now I have you to worry about.' He brushed Mary's cheek.

'It's just a prank,' said Mary. 'Don't worry.'

Archie crept to the door to the hall and listened. 'Thomas having his nap?' he whispered.

Mary nodded. Archie came back to Mary, embraced her and showered her with kisses.

'Mary, Mary, Mary,' he moaned. 'How can I be so lucky? How could I have been so blind? Why did I let you go?'

'It wasn't our time,' Mary whispered. 'But it is now.' She traced his face with her fingers, his straight nose, perfect mouth and strong jaw. 'Archie?'

'Mm?'

'Would you mind if I accompanied Isabelle on speaking tours?'

Archie held Mary at arm's length, drinking in her sea grey eyes. 'Oh Mary,' he laughed. 'You'll do it whether I say yes or no.'

'Will I?'

'But I'm flattered you asked. You must do as you think fit. Mary, I'm overwhelmed that you should ask me.'

'I don't want to upset you, that's all,' Mary replied.

'You couldn't,' he whispered and embraced her, the feel of her soft body awakening his own. 'You couldn't upset me.'

His mouth found hers again but there came the sound of tiny footsteps as Thomas, his fists wiping his eyes, came padding into the room.

'Dada,' said the boy, holding his arms out to Archie.

Reluctantly Archie let Mary slide from his embrace. He picked up Thomas and ruffled the boy's hair. 'Have you been a good boy for Mary?'

Thomas nodded and buried his head into his father's shoulder.

'It's a good time to start public speaking,' Archie said as he wandered around the room cradling his son. 'Strike levies are tailing off. Some Auckland Tramwaymen have refused to pay the two shilling a week levy and in fact we should have received one hundred and five pounds total in the first week, but they paid us less than half that.'

Mary let it sink in. 'Oh no. Archie. That's bad. Families will suffer.' She clenched her fists. 'Oh why couldn't you strike in the summer?'

'I heard the engine drivers are guaranteed two pounds per week for the duration of the strike,' Archie added.

'Easy enough to raise when there are only forty men locked out,' Mary answered.

She untied her apron and kissed Archie on the cheek. 'Would you mind picking Fanny up from school? I've got a speech to write.' She skipped through the house like a whirlwind. 'Your tea's on the range,' she called as she headed out the door.

* * *

Garrick drew the carriage to a stop outside Brady's chemist where Dardar's seat was empty. He tipped his hat to Mary and Rose. 'Morning ladies.'

The girls giggled as they manoeuvred their placards onto the floor of the wagon. Isabelle and Bessie shuffled along.

'Where's Meg?' asked Mary.

'We'll pick her up next,' Garrick replied. 'She was still asleep when I left.'

'It's very kind of you to take us, Mr. Binnie,' said Mary.

'Pleased to do it, miss. Meg's keen to help but she can only picket before school.'

'Good,' said Mary. 'I didn't tell Archie where I was going so I do need to head back as soon as possible.'

'Don't worry, miss,' said Garrick. 'Your Archie will just think you slept late.'

Garrick flicked the reins and they set off for Waikino, stopping to pick up Meg from their house near the outskirts of town on the way. The Waihi Gold Company owned the Victoria Battery at Waikino, the ore crushing facility. The workers mostly lived in the small township on the banks of the Ohinemuri River. Picketers were restricted to demonstrating as the men went to and returned from work, outside the company-owned land. They'd be arrested if they set foot inside the battery.

The girls were jubilant. It was the first mission they'd embarked on together as Scarlet Runners. As they approached the bridge to the river the sun finally came up behind them. Garrick pulled the carriage to a stop on the other side. Already there were dozens of people, at least a quarter being women, casually assembled.

When the women disembarked with their signs a cheer went up. 'Thank you ladies,' a voice from somewhere said.

'Not at all,' replied Isabelle. 'Will these do?'

She directed the girls to raise their placards and again a cheer went up.

'Here they come!' called the same voice as the first of the workers crossed the bridge on foot.

Everyone raised their placards and began echoing the slogans written on them.

Mary suddenly pitied the workers as they filed past three abreast carrying their lunch in a tin: not for the disturbance she was creating, but for the men's ignorance. Perhaps if a meeting was held here at Waikino and the facts explained, surely then the men would understand the strikers' position. It was untenable to her that some employees of the Waihi Gold Company could continue with their work as though nothing was wrong. Did they not think unity was worth fighting for? Why else would she and the others spend nearly an hour's rough ride to get here. Could they not see?

'You're a weak snake of a man, Wally Watters,' yelled Bessie. 'How dare you go to work. I should spit on you.' She hoicked on the ground.

'If I wasn't such a lady I'd piss on the ground you walk,' shouted the woman next to Bessie and the two of them shrieked with laughter.

Some of the picketers got so close to the workers they almost touched them waving placards in their faces. It was too intimidating for Mary and she distanced herself from Bessie. Thankfully no one touched the workers. Finally the last of the workers passed and most of the picketers dispersed. Mary and the girls piled back into the carriage, chattering excitedly.

'The rest of the day won't be as exciting,' Mary mused. She shook her head. 'I can't believe I just did that.'

Rose put a light hand on Mary's knee. 'Me neither,' she said. 'But wasn't it exciting?'

The girls laughed.

* * *

Mary wasn't the only one in the Bell household to be up and about before dawn. Emily left Gerald asleep as she gathered together a food basket. They had plenty; Gerald was being paid and Sam now had a bit of lockout pay. But there were families where only a meagre amount of strike pay was coming in. They had to choose – rent or food. Emily knew they couldn't afford both and she didn't care which side of the strike they were on. As far as Emily was concerned women needed to support women.

Emily made Mary take Archie food on the proviso that Gerald not find out. It was her way of supporting her daughter in private while publicly rebuking her in favour of Gerald should the need arise.

Emily put on a dark coloured coat and slipped out of the house before making her way down the main street then up past William's house to the far side of the mine. Here, several small wooden cottages stood check by jowl. One of these was Daisy Gilliespie's. Sam often spoke about Bartie's dilemma.

Two of his boys worked underground and Bartie was furious with them for striking. There would be no philosophical debate on the subject, just the welt of one of Bartie's punches if the family didn't see things his way. The cottage the family rented didn't have room for a house cow or chickens. They didn't even have an apple tree. Emily doubted Daisy would have put much away for winter.

She pulled her hat down over her ears and surveyed the street. All was quiet. Quickly Emily approached the Gilliespie cottage and dropped the basket on the doorstep. The basket would be emptied and left inside the front gate for collection another day. Daisy didn't know her donor was Emily and Emily was very happy for her not to know.

Emily broke into a slow trot as she retraced her steps then quietly returned home before the household awoke.

### Chapter Seventeen

Late that night after everyone had gone to bed there was a disturbance in the back yard. Emily sleepily threw an arm across to Gerald, forgetting that he'd told her he was at a meeting tonight.

The chickens were unsettled clucking softly into the night. Emily supposed it was a ferret in the coop. She heard Percy get up and go outside then drifted back to sleep.

Percy crept to the kitchen window and peered out. The thin white light of the half moon was all that illuminated the yard. He thought he saw a shadow running out of the yard. Grabbing a coat off the hook he slipped quietly out the back door. His first instinct was to run to the chickens but he resisted. They weren't going anywhere in the dead of night. If the wires had been cut or the door opened they'd wait until sun up to escape.

Instead Percy bolted round the side yard and out to the road hoping to see the intruder fleeing in one of three directions; up the hill to the mine, straight ahead to the least populated part of town or to the right and into the town. He prayed like mad the intruder didn't scoot in and out of the backyards of the houses that backed onto the town.

He didn't. As Percy hid in the bushes a dark shape slid past. Percy's heart beat fiercely. He let him go by and Percy followed, keeping his distance. As the figure fled through the town Percy realised where they were going. He felt sick as the man turned off Seddon Street and into Moresby. Percy slumped against the corner building and watched Jack run home. He felt sick. It made sense now; the pranks. Childish pranks they were, enough to annoy and upset but not cause harm. Percy wondered if Jack's father knew and what he should do. He was still Jack's best friend no matter what the adults had to say about it. They'd be allowed to knock about together again once this was all over. Of that he was certain.

Percy wandered along the street. As always there was a crowd in and around the Miners' Union Hall. Jack's dad was probably in there, unaware of Jack running amok.

He peered through the window. People seemed in good spirits. This was the meeting place these days. There was always something happening here. He couldn't see Mr. Strawbridge. He threw his hands deep in his pockets and trudged home.

As he neared the music academy he saw his father come out from the back of it. He was about to sing out but something about the man's demeanour prevented him. Instead Percy held back. Gerald furtively checked the street, pulled his collar up and his hat down, then set off towards home at a fast clip.

Percy froze. Was his father...? No. He shook his head. It just looked like that. There would be a perfectly reasonable explanation. He let Gerald walk on.

By the time Percy returned home and slipped quietly into bed he'd made a decision on both of tonight's events: he'd keep his own counsel until he had a reason to do otherwise.

* * *

Mary called a meeting at Nell's. As usual there were as many children in Nell's parlour as there were women.

'I'm concerned about the food drops,' Mary explained. 'It seems to me that some families are missing out because we're not co-ordinated. I propose some sort of a schedule. Archie has received three baskets in the last week compared to one the previous week.'

'That's a good idea,' said Rose.

Clara leaned back in her chair and rested her hands on her belly. 'Someone left a rabbit on my doorstep,' she said.

Mary threw her hands to her mouth. 'Oh, how awful!'

'In a basket, nicely skinned and presented,' Clara replied.

Mary laughed. 'Oh, that's all right then. You're lucky the cat didn't beat you to it.'

Mary turned to Nell. 'I've been thinking, Nell, that we might use this place as a food drop. Then we can distribute from here and be coordinated.'

Nell frowned. It would mean a lot of comings and goings that she'd be hard pressed to explain. She doubted she could maintain neutrality.

'I don't know,' she replied. 'It's just that, well, I don't want upset. I need the business when everything gets back to normal.'

Mary took Nell's hand. 'Don't you upset yourself, Nell. We understand.'

'Perhaps,' Nell went on, 'if you come round the back through the house. Yes. That might work. Use the back door.' She smiled. 'How are your speeches coming along?'

Isabelle and Mary exchanged glances. Isabelle spoke. 'Good. Rearing to go actually.' She looked questioningly at Mary.

'Yes, me too. I need to practice it on Archie,' Mary replied.

'Why not practice on us?' suggested Rose.

'Yes, that's a good idea,' Isabelle agreed. 'Then you girls can point out anything we've missed.'

Isabelle got up to leave. 'But I have to get back to the children. Ian's minding them for an hour.'

'Just before we go,' said Mary. 'We're still getting nuisance attacks at home. Is anyone else?'

No one was. Mary nodded slowly. It was probably right then; it was against Gerald. Nell turned away before Mary could see the anguish on her face.

'Can't you go to the police?' asked Rose.

Mary shrugged. 'Go to the police because we found dung in the letterbox? It's a bit weak.'

'I suppose,' Rose agreed. 'I'll have a word with Dardar. He might have heard something.'

Mary picked up Thomas. 'Time to fetch your sister from school, young man,' she said.

Nell shoved a bag of oranges into Mary's hand. 'Give these to your mother,' she said. 'She'll know what to do with them.'

Rose joined Mary. 'I'll walk with you. I have to get back to the shop.'

'I'm surprised you're allowed out,' said Isabelle.

Rose laughed. 'You don't think I tell him where I go do you? Anyway, I'm not being paid anymore so even if he did know what I get up to he can't say anything.'

Nell pursed her lips. 'You girls be careful. You don't want to be kicked out of home.'

Rose playfully pushed Mary out the door. 'Good point Nell,' she called after her. 'We'll be careful.'

* * *

Mary and Isabelle sat in the guest lounge going over their speech notes. They'd travelled by train to Thames and taken rooms at the Claremont Hotel, at the expense of the union. Ian had reservations about the women addressing Thames miners since they still had not pledged any financial support save their initial miserable twenty pounds.

Isabelle had shrugged him off explaining that was exactly the reason why Thames should be spoken to. She insisted that he not accompany them. He was quite capable of looking after the children and Clara would always look after them for an hour or two if needed.

The drone of men in the public bar washed through to the lounge. Soon the talk and laughter grew louder as more men came to drink after a day in the mines. Mary suddenly felt apprehensive.

'We'll be fine,' Isabelle reassured her. 'Have a good dinner to settle your stomach.'

Mary winced. 'I don't think I can eat.'

At seven thirty the president of the Thames Miners' Union came to escort the women to the Miners' Union Hall. Mr. Ashford had a thick Cornish accent and a voice which boomed out beneath his great brush moustache. He had keen eyes and although he was the epitome of hospitality Mary could tell he was suspicious of them.

'It won't be an easy crowd,' he said as they walked briskly through the town.

Isabelle slung her shoulders back. 'I give you my word, Mr. Ashford, that we are not here to incite a riot or to ask them to stop work. On the contrary, we will urge them to continue working.' She patted her stomach.

Mr. Ashford stopped at a narrow wooden building. 'Here we are.'

A few people milled around outside the door stamping their feet to ward off the chill air. Several were women which surprised Mary but put her at ease. It should be easier to put their case if she could relate to the wives. Within half an hour the hall had filled to capacity and Mr. Ashford introduced Mary and Isabelle.

'Your husbands too scared to come?' shot a voice out of the crowd.

Isabelle promptly took up the challenge. 'Thank you for the opportunity to provide you with an introduction,' she began. 'My husband is Ian McCardie, secretary of the New Zealand Socialist Party and secretary of the Waihi Trade Union of Workers. He is also on the strike committee. Our men have much to do in the struggle for industrial unionism. It is with my husband's blessing that we address you tonight.' She paused cradling her bump. She had their attention and continued.

'The reporting in the newspapers appears to be against us. They have chosen their side, that of the employer, that of unfair and oppressive legislation and to that end, they publish their own version of the truth. You must not believe all that you read. That is why my colleague and I are here tonight. There is a truth that you are being denied.

'What do I see when I look at you?' She waved an expansive hand in front of her. 'I see my husband. I see hard working loyal employees. I see men who give their employer the best years of his life and in return receive unfair wages, ill health and no compensation.'

There was a shuffling in seats and a few nodding heads.

'Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you have enough money left over at the end of the week to buy your wife flowers or your children new shoes?'

Mary smiled and looked at her shoes. Isabelle was good. She just seemed to swim with the salmon, using the vibrations as she received them.

'Mary and I completely understand your reluctance to levy your pay to help us in this fight. For if you are on the contract system of wages, which I suspect you are, you barely have enough to put food on the table.'

The crowd murmured agreement.

'Thought you weren't arguing about wages,' a voice rang out.

Mary stepped forward. 'Quite so, sir,' she said. 'To understand how we got to that you must first understand the background.'

Mary explained the lead up to the strike and eventually returned to the question of money. But it was the complicated issue of registering unions under different Acts that required analysis and explanation. She continued. 'We couldn't continue to strike without the support of the Federation of Labour. Do you realise why the Federation was formed in the first place?'

'They're a communist party,' a voice yelled.

The crowd laughed.

'To oppose the Liberal Government's Conciliation and Arbitration Act,' Mary went on. 'It's illegal to strike if your union is registered under this Act. In fact, in 1907 penalties for striking were increased.'

There were puzzled faces and the men looked at one another.

'But with the forming of the Federation of Labour unions could withdraw from the Arbitration Act and register under the Trade Union Act. The Federation now has nearly fourteen thousand registered members. That's more than three times the entire population of Waihi.'

This time a man in the crowd stood. 'How do you see the future of the strike with the advent of the new Prime Minister?'

Mary was taken aback. Archie hadn't discussed that with her. It was known well enough that William Massey's new government was anti-union.

Isabelle took the floor. 'We welcome any opportunity to put our case to fresh ears,' she said with a smile.

The man stood again. 'It's just what the government wants: two unions who can't agree, holding the company to ransom. Do you think the company might beat you to negotiations with the government and if so what would you do if the government pledged its support to the company?'

Isabelle responded. 'As we speak the Federation is organising public meetings up and down the country. We have many unions behind us and many more unions ready to strike with us. This struggle gentlemen, has become national, nay, international, for we have the support of Australian unions.'

Mary and Isabelle fielded a few more questions. The crowd seemed genuinely pleased to hear what was going on from the horse's mouth, so to speak. And they weren't totally against what they heard.

Mr. Ashford escorted the women back to the Claremont. He was conciliatory. 'You did exceedingly well ladies. I have to take my hat off to you both.'

Mary slipped her hand into the crook of Isabelle's arm. She beamed. The butterflies in her stomach had long since flown and now she was starving.

'Might I offer you a nightcap?' Mr. Ashford asked.

'Oh, heavens, no. Thank you, Mr. Ashford,' Mary replied. 'Waihi is dry, as I'm sure you're aware.'

Mr. Ashford laughed. 'Waihi might be, Miss Bell, but you are not.'

He tipped his hat and left.

The women retreated to their rooms and reflected on the night. For Mary it was the most exhilarating thing she'd ever done. She could hardly wait to do it again.

* * *

'What do you mean she's gone to Thames to speak to miners?' Gerald barked. 'Are you mad, Emily? You actually let her?'

Emily put her embroidery aside. 'I didn't _let_ her Gerald. I tried to stop her. What could I do? She was packed and gone before I could do anything.'

'She had it well planned.' Gerald paced the room. 'It's an outrage! It's bad enough working for that trouble maker Wright, but, but...' He huffed.

'Gerald, sit down,' said Emily. 'You'll give yourself blood pressure. She's with Isabelle McCardie.'

'Oh God! It gets worse.'

Emily patted the lounge suite. 'Sit.'

Gerald relented and sat next to his wife. 'What are we going to do Em? She's only thinking of herself; brainwashed by inarticulate miners.'

Emily placed a hand on Gerald's lap. 'Now Gerald, you know that's not true. Mary is thinking of all but herself.'

Gerald couldn't agree. 'You're on her side aren't you?'

'Of course I'm not, darling. I don't like to see you so upset,' Emily replied. 'Everyone's upset. Look at us; a locked out engine driver, a mine manager with no mine to manage, a daughter in love with a strike organiser and a son who dotes on his father.'

'In love?'

Emily smiled and stroked Gerald's cheek with the back of her hand. 'Why else?'

Gerald grumped.

'Surely you can remember?' Emily asked.

'And what about you, Em?'

'Me?'

'You didn't say where you stand in this.'

'Oh, I'm just a mother,' said Emily softly.

* * *

William threw a copy of the Maoriland Worker on the table.

'Page four,' he said. 'The Federation's distributed twenty two thousand pounds in strike pay but they're appealing for us to hold on.'

'But strike levies are already tailing off,' said Garrick. 'It'll just get less the longer we strike.'

Archie rubbed his chin. 'Unfortunately there's no pot of gold to get the town's services back up and running. The fire brigade has had to stand men down. Do you know the Fire Council is paying ten shillings per week to each married fireman who can drive the motor, as long as he lives in the immediate vicinity of the station.'

'Better hope we don't need 'em,' said Leonard.

Mary lumbered through the back door carrying an empty washing basket. From the dining room Archie noticed Mary trying to stifle a yawn. It wasn't like her to be tired in the mornings but lately he'd noticed a certain lack of verve. He puzzled that she was more tired after she'd slept late. Today she hadn't plaited her hair and it hung coquettishly about her shoulders.

William was speaking. 'What do you think, Archie?'

'Sorry, what?'

'A mass meeting,' William replied. 'I think it's time we held another meeting for all the strikers.'

'Why?'

'I don't like the look of the Massey government,' William explained. 'The press is firmly against us. We need to boost morale.'

Mary perked up. 'I agree. At the Thames we were specifically asked about our views on the change of the Prime Minister. There is an interest beyond Waihi. People want to know what we will do if the government comes down heavily in support of the employers.'

'And current legislation,' added Ian. He turned to Mary and smiled. 'I believe congratulations are in order, Miss Bell. Isabelle tells me you did a sterling job addressing the miners in Thames.'

Mary flushed. 'Oh, yes, well.'

Archie interjected on Mary's behalf. 'Mary is too modest. She was full of praise for your wife, Ian. But she said nothing about her part.'

The smile Archie had for Mary was not lost on the men. 'Like Mary says, it's the only true act of support she's able to give,' he said.

Mary flushed again and quickly fled the room, not daring to look at them, especially Archie.

### Chapter Eighteen

Low cloud rumbled in from the east causing the late afternoon to feel like early evening. The air was still and charged. Every now and then lightening crackled in the distance followed by a heavy roll of thunder. The storm was making its way to Waihi. Easterly storms were the worst, bringing unimaginable amounts of rain straight off the sea.

Archie arrived home early. He'd collected Fanny from school.

Mary accepted his kiss. 'You're early,' she said.

'There's a storm coming, darling,' Archie explained.

'I've been listening to it.'

'You must get on home,' he said. 'Before it comes.'

Mary sighed. 'Oh, Archie. How I want to listen to the storm with you.'

Archie took her face in his hands. 'I know my love,' he murmured. 'I know.' Then he kissed her and Mary felt her legs weaken. Archie held her tightly, squeezing her body against his.

'Oh, Archie,' she whispered.

Archie stroked her hair, then her shoulders and arms. He slipped his hands around her waist and she buried her face into his neck. Her aroma aroused him. Just a little longer... He turned to nuzzle her throat, just a little bit more of Mary. But then he groaned and gently pushed her from him. He gazed at her mournful eyes and could only manage a whisper. 'You know it's because I love you so much that you must go.'

Mary nodded. His chocolate eyes implored her to succumb to him, but Archie was wise. Of course she had to go now.

Archie saw her to the door. The wind had got up. 'Don't come in the morning if it's stormy.'

Mary thought she'd die if she didn't come tomorrow. They kissed long on the doorstop.

She hurried home, collecting an empty basket from a cottage on Clarke Street on the way. By the time she turned into her road drops of rain fell slowly and heavily, like they were deliberately aiming for her to warn her to take cover before the real downpour.

When she walked into the house Emily rushed to meet her. 'Oh, it's you,' she said. 'I hoped it was your father.'

'What is it?' asked Mary.

Emily led Mary into the lounge and gazed up at the ceiling where there was a clattering sound. 'There's some loose iron on the roof. Hear it?'

Mary did. 'Where's Sam? Surely he can get up and fix it before the storm comes.'

Emily let her hands fly then bounce off her thighs. 'I don't know. Out sly drinking I suppose.'

Mary knew then her mother was frustrated. Ordinarily she would never concede that people drank on the quiet. It was too much to admit given she'd given so much of her life rallying against it. Mary hadn't even thought about Sam drinking.

'It's all right, ma,' said Mary. 'They'll be home soon. They'll fix it. What about Percy?'

'I'm not sending him out there on his own. But if someone doesn't come soon...'

Mary led her mother back to the dining room where a hot pot sat simmering on the coal range. 'Did you send Rosa home?'

Emily nodded.

Mary laughed for Emily's benefit. 'Archie sent me home too.'

'Mary.' Emily frowned. 'Mary, your father's extremely upset with you for speaking publicly.'

'I know. That's why I've been keeping out of his way.'

Emily shook her head. 'That's not the answer. This will come to an end one day and we all have to live with each other, now and later. Honey, look I know you love Archie...'

Mary cut her off. 'I'm head over heels in love with Archie and he is with me.'

'This stance you're taking,' Emily continued, 'is hurting your father. He sees it as a personal attack.'

'That's silly, ma.'

'I know. But that's how it is.' Emily took hold of Mary's hand. 'Try to understand. Stop public speaking. Please. I'm not going to ask you to give up Archie. I know you won't do it.'

Mary gulped down her secret. Emily didn't know the half of it: food drops, letters to newspapers and the union magazine, pickets. But something in Emily's tone made Mary want to believe that her mother would approve of the Scarlet Runners.

Mary turned away from Emily and held her hands above the heat of the range. 'I'll think about it.'

Over the next hour the wind strengthened, whipping the iron into a flapping frenzy. Finally the first drops of rain oozed through the ceiling. Emily was just about to let Percy climb onto the roof when Gerald walked in. He was greeted with the sounds of the iron finally tearing free and clattering along the roof. The women screamed and clutched each other staring at the ceiling.

'The iron's come loose,' Emily yelled against the din.

'It's come off completely,' added Percy.

Gerald ran outside beckoning Percy to follow. He fetched a ladder from the back shed and planted it against the back wall of the house. 'Hold the ladder,' he yelled to Percy.

Gerald scrambled up onto the roof over the slight slope at the rear of the house and up onto the double gables. He cursed whoever designed the central gutter system as he watched a torrent of water overflowing the leaf-filled trough. He couldn't see any gaps in the roof. He cursed again as he realised that the missing iron was on the outside of the gable. He squinted against the fierce rain and tentatively climbed onto the roof. Then he saw the gap. The iron next to it was flapping also threatening to completely dislodge. He inched his way back to the ladder and yelled to Percy.

'See if you can find the iron, Percy.'

Percy ran off round the side of the house while Gerald descended.

'Found it!'

It was buckled. Gerald grimaced. It was all they had. He managed to find some nails and a hammer. He slipped them inside his jacket and climbed back onto the roof.

'Do you want some help, dad?' Percy called.

But Gerald had climbed out of earshot and out of sight up onto the steep part of the roof. Percy hopped from foot to foot. He was getting cold and he really should be helping his father. He climbed up. It was even windier up here and he couldn't stand to full height. The trees surrounding the house were almost bent double. For an instant his mind wandered to Jack's tree hut.

Then he heard banging. He followed the sound; slowly. His feet suddenly had a light feeling, like he was flying. It unnerved him. He hadn't for a minute considered he might be afraid of heights. He'd had no experience to know. But right at this minute his heart was in his mouth. Gerald was stoically banging the roofing iron back into place. He gingerly continued inching towards Gerald.

Percy scaled the side of the gable. He could see Gerald about twelve feet away with his back to him, perched perilously near the edge of the roof. He waited until Gerald paused and as his father reached awkwardly into his pocket for a nail. Percy cried out.

It was such a shock to Gerald that he lost his balance and tumbled off the side. Percy screamed and threw himself prostrate across the roof to look over the edge. His father lay in an unnatural position on the ground and didn't move no matter how much Percy yelled.

'Oh God!' Emily screamed as she ran to the window. 'It's Gerald.'

Screaming Gerald's name Emily rushed outside, Mary fast behind her. Percy scuffled back down the ladder, by now trembling like a leaf. Emily tried to rouse Gerald, screaming at him to get up. She became louder and louder, her screams turning to sobs as Gerald refused to respond. Mary wrapped her arms around Emily trying to pull her away from her father.

'Mother, mother,' Mary screamed. 'Father's dead.'

Emily flung herself on top of Gerald.

'No!' she moaned. 'No, no, no, no. Gerald.'

'Percy,' Mary barked. 'Help me.'

Against the rain and the wind Percy hauled his father along the muddy ground as Mary pulled Emily away.

'Get inside, mother,' Mary yelled. 'Or help us with father.'

The rain lashed Emily's face, her salty tears finding fresh tracks over her cold cheeks. Percy struggled with the dead weight. There seemed to be no strength in him; he could only feel a heaviness in his stomach and his legs trembled so. Mary scrambled to help him, taking hold of Gerald's legs. Emily clung to Gerald making Mary and Percy's task even more difficult.

'Get the door,' Mary ordered Emily.

They struggled inside, finally out of the rain and the wind and laid Gerald on the floor where again Emily tried to revive him.

Mary gently put an arm around her mother's shoulder and all three of them sobbed hunched around Gerald not knowing what to do.

Mary began to tremble. She'd let her father down and she hadn't meant to, and now she could never explain, never say she was sorry. She wallowed in self-pity until the freezing rain brought her around.

'Mother, listen to me,' Mary said. 'Lay father out on the bed. Make him look nice. Percy can run to the undertakers.'

She glanced at Percy. 'All right?'

Percy nodded but he couldn't move.

'What is it?' asked Mary.

'It's my fault,' Percy whispered. 'It's all my fault.'

'Percy, he fell,' Mary replied. 'It's not your fault.'

'You weren't there. I frightened him. I was supposed to be holding the ladder. If I hadn't gone up, given him a fright... I killed him.'

Mary squeezed her brother into her. 'Percy, I'm not listening to nonsense talk, do you hear?' She brushed his wet face with the sleeve of her blouse. 'Now, be a brave boy and go tell the undertaker.'

She went back to Emily calling back to Percy over her shoulder. 'And see if you can find your brother.'

Now Mary couldn't hear the wind screaming at the house, or the iron railing against the ineffective nails. She couldn't hear the rain pelting the tin or her mother's wails. She was in her own vacuum, numb.

* * *

The storm lasted two days. Everyone spoke of it as the worst storm in living memory. Minor surface flooding had reduced the main thoroughfares to quagmires. Buildings stood up to the wind surprisingly well with only a few windows blown in here and there, a few roofs off. Fallen trees blocked roads. Folk were surprised that the Bell house suffered the way it did, tucked in beneath the hill.

Gerald had lain at home for five days. It was the strangest thing: people on Gerald's side – the company and businessmen, came at night. But the miners with whom Gerald had worked visited during the day. Emily was pleased. Gerald didn't hold any personal grudge against the men. It was a testament to Gerald that the striking men wanted to say goodbye.

Nell was a brick, consoling Emily through those unbearable first days. No one seemed to understand the way Nell did. Emily couldn't have got through it without her.

Archie paid his respects, but not without Emily's permission. Mary pleaded with Emily to let Archie share her grief at the house. Emily was too drained to draw battle lines with Archie but she was pleased for Mary that he wasn't embarrassed to show himself.

Jack came for Percy. Jack could barely manage a sentence, but Percy didn't mind. He knew Jack would never give up on their friendship. He didn't tell Jack he knew it was him; the dung, the cow, the chickens. Jack couldn't tell Percy about the roof. It was only supposed to let in a bit of rain, but it had gone so horribly wrong.

Joe Wright paid a visit to Emily on behalf of the company. It would pay a small stipend for Gerald's loss until the company was able to secure a replacement mine manager. This was a more than generous offer under such straitened circumstances. The house belonged to the company for its mine manager. Unfortunately Emily and her children would have to leave, but not, Joe stressed, until the company had found a replacement. Gerald had shares in the company so Emily did not have to worry about that sort of thing.

The strike continued to whirl around them and the magnitude of it diminished as the Bell family contemplated the loss of their patriarch. So much was left unsaid to Gerald. They each wrestled with their own consciences as they went about their daily lives, quite apart from one another, each suffering their own guilt.

* * *

Nell came to the house on the day of the funeral. She looked beautiful dressed in black; she felt beautiful, Gerald would have told her so. She wore a cameo around her neck, his final piece to her.

She kissed Emily on the cheek and hugged her tightly, struggling to keep her sobs at bay. She hardly ever came to the house now; not since she and Gerald became lovers. It was too hard to keep up the pretence. But now, well, she loved Emily. And Emily needed a friend right now.

'Are you ready?' Nell asked.

Emily stuffed a handkerchief into her purse. 'Yes.'

She called to the boys who appeared tucking in shirts and straightening jackets. She smiled.

'Gerald would be pleased,' she said. 'Where's your sister?'

'I'm here,' said Mary. 'I just threw the lounge rug over the line.'

'You haven't got time to be doing that,' said Emily curtly. 'We're burying your father, God rest his soul.'

Mary bit her lip. Everyone was on edge. She was pleased Nell was here and had not just met Emily at the church.

They walked the short distance to the church. For all the division prior to the funeral, it was a big turnout. Men from both camps came but sat on opposite sides, an uneasy truce implicitly observed.

Mary greeted Archie who hugged her.

'Sit with me, Archie,' she whispered. 'Please.'

Archie hesitated and surveyed the division within the church. Then he met Mary's gaze; sea grey eyes that intimated at the storm within. Archie squeezed her hand and led her to the front to sit with the family.

Percy bristled. Emily and Nell sat hand in hand and looked stoically forward as organ music washed over them. Sam didn't seem to notice. But if Mary had cast a glance to Sybil she would have seen a look that would make milk curdle.

Suddenly it was over and Gerald's coffin was lifted by Joe, Darcy, Sam, Percy and Hector Fryer, the mine superintendant. Emily gasped: they needed another coffin bearer. Archie quickly slipped in behind Darcy.

Mary suddenly couldn't control her tears. Archie was wonderful. It made everything worse!

The entourage slowly made its way to the cemetery snaking through the rammed earth streets lined

with the functional ugly buildings of an industrial town.

Mary stood at the graveside. There was something about having Gerald's mourners around her that gave her strength. She clenched her teeth; she would not cry.

After Gerald's burial Archie took Mary aside. 'How are you, darling?'

Mary dabbed a handkerchief to her face. 'I'll be fine. Thank you for today.'

'Ah, Mary.' He hugged her tightly. 'Are you ready to come back to me? I'm going mad without you.'

Mary set her mouth into a thin line. 'I don't know, Archie. I... I really don't know what to do.'

Archie hugged her again and this time he didn't let her go as she cried and cried.

* * *

William, Floyd and Garrick milled around outside the Victoria Battery waiting for the knock-off whistle when a procession of workers would exit the property. Numbers of demonstrators were still strong, all armed with placards. Some carried duffel bags. Rose was there with Henry.

She approached the union leaders. 'Why don't we see Archie at these pickets?' Rose asked William.

William tipped his hat to her. 'Not his style, miss,' he said. 'Besides, he's got no help at home at the moment. What with Mary's situation.'

'I'm worried about Mary,' Rose confided. 'She's tormented. Torn. She doubts her position in the struggle. She feels guilty about taking the opposite side to her father.' Rose frowned. 'I fear we have lost her. I don't know if anything will bring her round.'

A whistle sounded and workers trickled through the gate. The demonstrators immediately started shouting at them, Rose included. She rammed her placard high in the air and chanted the matching slogan.

'Don't be a traitor to your cause! You dirty rotten unprincipled dogs,' she added. Then she smiled at William. The picketers moved with the procession, jostling and shouting obscenities until the men began to peel off as they headed for home.

Rose followed for half a mile then let the more hardy continue, her Henry included. She pecked him on the cheek. 'Be careful.'

The men picked a target; Horace Pickles. He'd been working on the transmission line, as had most of the others, getting ready for re-opening. A wiry man with furtive eyes, he pulled his cloth cap low on his head and quickened his pace.

'Do you not understand the plight of the working class?' William challenged the man getting so close he could almost smell his pipe smoke breath.

Horace buried his head into his shoulders.

'You're no better than a scab,' yelled Floyd. 'You know that don't you?'

Garrick scrambled ahead of Horace so the man had to tack to avoid banging into him. Garrick shoved his placard in front of Horace's face.

'What do you have to say for yourself?' Garrick cried.

Horace shook his head keeping his gaze at his feet and carried on walking, tacking this way and that trying to avoid the menace. Finally Horace turned into the yard of a modest wooden cottage. His wife and children waited for him on the veranda. Quickly they went inside slamming the door behind them. The blinds snapped down.

William, Floyd, Henry and Garrick paused outside the entrance. They shouted and chanted slogans until nearly dark, when Garrick lit a fire in the rough carriageway.

William lit a cigarette and dragged slowly. Still no lights came on inside the Pickles' home.

'It's just like rabbiting,' William remarked. 'The rabbit holds itself still as a statue hoping its predator will eventually get tired of waiting and leave. It's a waiting game.' He passed his cigarette to Garrick. 'We've got all night.'

'Aye, we have,' said Garrick.

William fished sandwiches out of his pocket and the others did the same.

The lights didn't shine in Horace's house all night and even the light of the moon couldn't illuminate the happenings inside the house.

The men succumbed to sleep and apart from waking in the night to relieve themselves they slept, albeit fitfully. When one of them woke he woke the others and they made as much noise as possible to disturb the Pickles family. They finally awoke to the first blackbirds at five the next morning. Immediately they started a raucous din, chanting slogans and shouting union speak.

Eventually Horace emerged, kissed his wife on the cheek and walked down the path to the front gate where the men were ready with obscenities and placards. He refused to acknowledge his tormentors, gazing ahead at the ground directly in front of him.

'What's on today, Horace?' Floyd taunted. 'Keeping capitalist production going in the face of socialist rhetoric?'

William shot a surprised look at Floyd who let fly with another.

'Providing electricity for capitalists at the expense of the working class?' He moved in closer to Horace and lowered his voice. 'Are you the one working class man who does not take home the company's candles?' He winked and smiled.

'Side with us,' called William. 'Put down your tools. It's only by joining us that there will be candles for all. Nay! Electricity for all. When the working class controls the means of production the employing class will be asking us for electricity.'

Horace kept walking. There was nothing he could say. He just had to keep his head down until he got closer to the battery where other men walked to work, also being followed. He mustn't let them see his fear. Never show fear, he said to himself. Other demonstrators could be heard before they were seen and in the melee were the voices of Rose and Bessie, who had travelled early to be at the first demonstration of the day.

'Henry!' she called and ran to him. 'I was worried. How are you?'

Henry and the others were relentless, protesting until Horace and his colleagues disappeared into the bowels of the company property.

Rose threaded her arm through Henry's and led him to a carriage. 'Doesn't look like you converted anyone,' she chided.

Henry pressed his lips into a tight line. 'I'll be back tonight. I'll break him.'

* * *

Isabelle paced Archie's dining room while he wrestled with the laundry, hanging damp clothes over the chairs. She wrung her hands.

'Archie, you have to see Mary,' she said. 'I can't seem to get through to her.'

He draped Fanny's dress on a chair back then set it in front of the range. 'I do understand, Isabelle. If anyone wants her back it's me.'

'She seems tormented with guilt,' Isabelle continued.

Archie bristled. 'Do you think she's lost to us? Is that what you think?'

Isabelle pursed her lips. 'Well...'

'No!' Archie cried. 'Mary's one hundred percent committed to our cause. She just needs time.' He shook his head. 'I can't see Mary changing sides on the memory of her father.'

Isabelle folded some towels and laid them on the warm hearth. 'How long do you think you can do without her?' She surveyed the room: dirty dishes littered the table along with Archie's papers.

He sighed. 'I do miss her. And not as a housekeeper, although you are forgiven for assuming so. I thought she needed to spend some time with her mother and brothers. You know, to remember Gerald properly. I don't want to rush her.'

'Well I want her to get back to business. The longer she leaves it the harder it might be for her to come back. Please Archie,' Isabelle begged. 'Get her back.'

* * *

Emily tied a black ribbon in Mary's loosely plaited hair. Mary sensed Emily's sobs and she turned to face her mother.

'Ma?'

Emily dabbed at her eyes. 'It's silly. Nothing. Gerald would plait my hair for me. He'd spend ages brushing it until it shone.' She looked through Mary as she remembered, then whispered. 'Then he'd plait a ribbon into it.'

Mary took Emily by the hand and led her to the lounge where they sat in front of the tiny open fire. Mary threw a lump of coal on.

'Sam will have to get some coal,' she said.

Emily sighed. 'Sam will have to do a lot from now on. So will Percy.'

She held Mary's gaze. 'What will you do, Mary?'

Mary wandered over to the fire and stood with her back to it. It was exactly that question she'd been wrestling with since Gerald's death. So undecided was she that she couldn't eat, couldn't cook, couldn't clean house, couldn't do anything. She hadn't been outside the house and both she and Emily had let Rosa do the lion's share of the work. And where was Archie? Why hadn't he been to see her? No wonder she couldn't eat! She was fretting on top of grief. How could he possibly stay away when he professed to love her? Perhaps she needed to be away from Archie; to help her see more clearly. She hadn't made herself consider her father's side when he was alive so she would do it now.

'I've been trying to see father's point of view. He was placed in a very compromising position. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. He couldn't choose his side. Not like me. I feel I've behaved like a spoilt brat. Appalling. Look at Sam. He doesn't have a choice. He wants to work.' She threw her hands in the air. 'God knows, it's what we all want. But Sam's locked out and he had no say about it. The strikers have a choice: to stay or leave.'

She sat down, exasperated.

'We're not so very different,' said Emily, 'you and me.'

'What do you mean?'

'I fought for years against the demon drink,' Emily explained. 'Oh, the promise of a better society that only prohibition could bring. Was I naive?' She smiled softly and stared into the spitting fire. 'I know what Gerald was up to. I'm not stupid. He thought I didn't know why he was out all hours. All I managed in those long years of campaigning was to drive my husband to drink on the sly.'

Tears reeled down Emily's cheeks. 'He never blamed me for it. He was generous man. He let me have my little win; humoured me.'

Mary handed her mother a handkerchief. 'Do you think he was perhaps humouring me?'

Emily shook her head. 'No dear. He couldn't see how you could openly oppose him. I tried to explain. Tried to make him remember what it was like to be so in love that it clouds everything.' She took hold of Mary's hand. 'He did say to me that he was proud that you had such an understanding of the philosophy behind the cause. He attributed that to Archie.'

Emily smiled. 'He didn't hate Archie, Mary.'

'He might have said,' Mary replied.

'Now, you know he never would,' said Emily. 'But he was hurt, nevertheless.'

A scuffle on the roof disturbed them.

'Oh, it's Sam,' said Emily rushing to the centre of the room and looking up. 'Is Percy with him?'

'Ma,' said Mary. 'Percy's blaming himself for dad's accident.'

'Why?'

Mary shrugged. 'He says he gave him a fright. That's why dad fell.'

'Oh, that's terrible!'

'Talk some sense into him,' Mary continued. 'He's taking it pretty hard.'

Emily frowned. Suddenly her concentration lapsed and she felt she wasn't in the room with Mary, wasn't anywhere except inside her own mind with Gerald.

* * *

Joe paid Archie a visit. The meeting hadn't gone well. He pleaded with Archie to consider applying for the mine manager's job.

'But Archie!' Joe pleaded. 'It's what you know. This strike isn't going to last forever. You might help shorten it if you take it on.'

Archie couldn't believe what he was hearing. He laughed without humour. 'I'd be lynched before I started, Joe. Are you mad?'

'You'll never have another chance in this town,' Joe continued. 'You do know that don't you?'

'What makes you think that's the only thing I want? I know I'll not ever work as a manager in this town. But this strike is bigger than the Waihi Goldmining Company. It's bigger than Waihi. When we win industrial relations in this country will change forever. I'm not worried about my own skin anymore, Joe. Thousands of workers are counting on me to make it right for them; for them and the sons that will come after them.'

Joe huffed a stream of breath. He knew Archie had set himself on a pedestal, but by God, he hadn't realised how high a pedestal.

'Did Sybil put you up to this?' Archie demanded.

'Of course not.'

'Because it's the sort of hare-brained idea she'd come up with.'

Joe knew Archie wouldn't budge. Probably knew it before he came here. Archie was a man driven by principles. Joe wished he could say the same of himself. As he trudged home he wondered whether it would ever be the same as before, with Archie. He loved having his brother near him, but now Archie may as well be back in Ballarat. And when this was all over Archie would have to leave Waihi to ever work as a mine manager. Still, there was one piece of news that Joe could take back to Sybil: Mary hadn't been working for Archie since the accident. Archie told him that Mary needed some time on her own to grieve properly.

* * *

One by one the girls visited Mary, each imploring her to get back to business. Rose regaled Mary with stories from the "front" as Rose had started referring to their pickets.

'Henry says it's only a matter of time before he turns Horace Pickle,' she said. 'The poor man's had Henry camped outside his house for a week now. They don't give him a chance to sleep, rallying all night, making as much noise as possible. Some of the girls have taken to stopping outside his house during the day so Mrs. Pickles can't go out.'

Mary frowned. 'That's not nice.

Rose hadn't expected the rebuke and she pursed her lips, embarrassed as she fidgeted with her skirt.

'Mary,' said Rose. 'You will come back soon, won't you? You're missed very much.'

Rose saw herself out. Mary wanted to chase after her to tell her that her visit was wholly unsuccessful and to thank her for helping her to make up her mind. Instead she stared into the fire going over Rose's story. All she could see was her father's displeasure.

A few days later Isabelle came. She brought the children with her and Mary bounced baby Sarah on her knee.

'I was hoping to talk you into getting back into the saddle,' said Isabelle as she sipped tea. Mary was uncharacteristically quiet so Isabelle continued. 'I'm sorry I haven't been around to see you before now. I can see perhaps I should have.' She smiled uncertainly.

Mary replaced her teacup on its saucer without drinking. 'I'm sorry, Isabelle. I'm not good company. You were wise not to. I've had a chance to think about things. I'm not sure I can carry on.' She wrung her hands in her lap and paid them more attention than Isabelle. 'Oh, Isabelle! I don't know what to do.'

'Then I shall tell you what to do, Mary Bell. There's a man in Union Street pining for you, tearing his hair out with worry. You get yourself back there and pick up where you left off and if it's so long ago you can't remember, it's this: speeches, letters, pickets.'

Isabelle's eyes flashed. No one else had dared speak to Mary like that, they had all tip toed around on egg shells afraid she'd crumble into dust with her grief. Isabelle laid a hand on Mary's arm.

'Mary,' she said softly. 'Would your father really respect you now if you changed sides? It's the wrong reason! He would have been a happy man if he could have talked you round, of course he would. But to agree with him now, just because he's dead? You know it doesn't make sense.'

Mary sighed. 'I hadn't looked at it like that.'

'That's because grief is selfish. Help us, Mary. Help me. Please don't make me do it on my own.'

The baby snivelled and Isabelle stood to rock her.

'Ian says Sybil is trying to match-make Archie again.'

Mary's skin prickled. 'Is she?' she sniffed. 'Archie will have none of it.'

'You'd better hope. It's time I was off. I hope you'll reconsider Mary.'

Mary saw her friend off and she stood in the door as she watched Isabelle make her way along the rough road, the perambulator bumping on its narrow wheels. Isabelle's words echoed in her head, " _grief is selfish._ " She clenched her hands into fists and screamed. What did Isabelle know about it? Had she lost her first love? Had she lost her own father? Couldn't she allow Mary some self indulgent, wallowing grief? Did Isabelle think there was a time limit on mourning? Grief is selfish. Grief is selfish.

She slammed the door behind her and ran to her room.

* * *

Mary knocked urgently on Sybil's door. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She looked around the street. A thin wisp of fog lay low over the ground, not enough to dull the sharp knock on wood. No one was up yet; she'd passed only the night cart on her way here.

Muffled voices inside, footsteps and then the clack of the latch. The door opened to Joe, fumbling with the tie of his dressing gown. 'Mary!'

'I'd like to speak to Mrs. Wright,' Mary stated through dry lips.

'Who is it?' It was Sybil joining Joe at the door.

Sybil frowned. 'Mary! What is it?' She peered past her into the street as if the answer lay somewhere beyond.

'I thought you might like to know that I will be returning to Archie's today so there won't be any need for you to worry about him. He loves me and together we will continue to fight.'

She turned on her heel then paused at the step. 'Good day to you.'

Joe smiled until Sybil shot him a deathly look.

As Mary approached Archie's she could see smoke spurting intermittently from the chimney, as though Archie had just this minute lit it. She pictured him kneeling in front of the range until the fire caught hold. It calmed her. She'd been trembling when she left Joe's and during the short walk through the back streets she'd started to regret her outburst. She hoped Archie would understand.

She let herself in then walked through the hall and stood at the entrance to the dining room. Archie let her stand there, just stand in front of him, but she was cast. Then he stepped in to her and suddenly she fell into his arms.

Archie swept her hair back and kissed her.

'I... I...,' Mary stuttered.

'Shush,' he said softly, kissing her again so she couldn't talk even if she had the words.

Then Archie broke off his kiss. 'I've missed you so much, Mary. I knew you'd come back to me. They had doubts, all of them. But not me. I knew you'd come back to me.'

'I missed you too,' Mary whispered. 'I thought I was wrong to love you, to side with you.' Her mouth became dry. 'But I'm not wrong. I love you too much.' She smiled as she traced his face with her fingers. 'I can't change my heart.'

* * *

Mary was made a great fuss of on the ride into Waikino. The floor of the coach was littered with rotting vegetable scraps and eggs. Bessie explained to Mary who crinkled up her nose against the smell.

'Don't worry, love. You don't have to be a crack shot. Stick with me.'

Rose rolled her eyes. She clutched a bag on her lap. 'Supplies for Henry.'

'Why?' asked Mary.

'He's sort of stopping out,' Rose replied.

Mary frowned. 'Still?'

Rose squeezed her mouth into a tight line. 'Better him than us.'

Mary could hear the banter of picketers before the coach drew up. William and Floyd were there already and William greeted Mary with a pat on the back.

'Good to see you, lass. Sorry about your Da.'

Mary surveyed the scene; things had progressed in her absence. There were many more women, all armed with sticks, placards and rotten vegetables.

'We're going to picket the railway station after this,' Meg said to Mary. 'You coming?'

Mary frowned. 'The railway?'

Meg plunged her placard high in the air as men walked past. 'Aye. There's so many leaving the town. They're weakening our position. They should be stopped.'

Mary slowly shook her head. 'Not this time, Meg.'

A flurry of activity in the distance disturbed them. Men were following up some workers. Henry was one of them shouting obscenities and slogans. The man in his firing line was still Horace Pickles who trudged head down, hat pulled over his eyes, to join the thickening pool of workers. Rose ran to greet Henry and flung some cabbage leaves on the ground right in front of Horace. Then an egg was thrown, carefully aimed to splatter the ground in front of Horace. It barely missed Rose.

Mary winced. Rose had warned her things had got a bit more lively. Still, as long as no laws were broken.

Discussion on the ride home was the rumour of a shooting in the town last night.

'I didn't hear anything,' said Rose.

'Probably a rabbiter,' said Mary. 'No rabbit is safe at the moment.'

The women laughed.

Garrick dropped them off at the railway station just outside town and Mary rode on until Garrick reached the stables. 'Do you want a lift, Miss Bell?' asked Garrick.

Mary laughed. 'Ah no, Mr. Binnie. Although it would be very nice. I'd better walk from here.'

'I'm sure your Archie knows, miss,' Garrick replied.

Mary's heart missed a beat and she felt her face redden. 'Oh.'

Garrick tipped his hat to her as she left.

Mary glanced ahead to Archie's where smoke puffed from the chimney. On impulse she bent into Mrs. Pearson's front garden and picked some daffodils.

Fanny greeted Mary at the door. She held the flowers out to the little girl who shyly took them and ran inside.

Archie was at the table surrounded by sheets of printed paper and volumes of the Federation magazine.

'Ah, the early bird,' said Archie.

Mary looked at her shoes. 'You know then?'

Archie took hold of her hands and squeezed them. 'I do. And I think I know how long this has been going on. Why didn't you tell me?'

Mary shrugged. 'Are you mad at me?'

'Why should I be mad at you?'

'I thought you might not like me doing that sort of thing.'

He laughed. 'And what would you do if I didn't?'

Mary pushed him playfully on his chest. 'I might have taken some notice.'

'Or more likely ignored me altogether, Mary Bell,' he said. Archie couldn't keep the smile out of his voice and his chocolate eyes danced all over Mary's face.

'So?' asked Mary.

'Do I mind?'

'Stop playing with me Archie. Do you mind me picketing or not?'

Archie twiddled with his moustache. 'I think I'm proud of you,' he declared.

'Good!' Mary walked into the kitchen and Archie followed.

'There's been a development,' said Archie. 'The Thames miners are on strike.'

'That's good.'

Archie looked grim. 'No, it's not. Seems they employed a Waihi engine driver who apparently joined the Thames Union before he started work, but all hell broke loose when the Thames men decided they didn't like it.'

'Do we know who it is?' asked Mary.

Archie drew in a big breath before he answered. 'Sam.'

### Chapter Nineteen

Sam returned to Waihi by train having virtually been run out of the Thames. He was painstakingly honest with the mine manager when he joined the Thames Miners' Union. Sam relinquished his Waihi Engine Driver Union membership in favour of the Thames Miners' Union, where he was to be employed as a battery hand at the Sylvia Mine up the Tararu.

Why his past should affect his ability to put in a fair day's work was quite beyond him, but when the men learned of his Waihi connection they declared a 'holiday' so that certain matters could be discussed. This put about forty men out of work.

That was the last thing Sam wanted. Just like suddenly being the head of the family was the last thing he wanted. He shouldn't have done it. They'd warned him and he went right ahead and did it anyway. And they were right. Before Gerald died he'd been thinking he might leave Waihi and go to sea; operate boilers on ships. It would have made it easier on the family. But not now. He couldn't leave his mother and Mary to fend for themselves. Now he wasn't so sure. It seemed he couldn't do right for doing wrong.

Bartie Gilliespie met Sam off the train. 'You better lie low for a while, son,' said Bartie hustling Sam quickly off the platform. 'Where in blazes did you get such a crazy idea?'

Sam trudged ahead, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

'I could'a saved you the trouble, lad,' Bartie continued. 'I'da told you not to go.'

Sam barely lifted his head to reply. 'I just want to work.'

'We all do!' Bartie pulled back. 'We all do, son, but the fact of the matter is we're all in this together. The miners are in this together and we're in this together. No one likes a renegade.' Bartie smiled. 'You sure stirred things up.'

Sam finally broke a smile. 'I did, didn't I?'

They walked on avoiding the main street until they came to a stone wall. Sam threw his duffel bag up and climbed on top. Bartie joined him, lit a cigarette and passed it to Sam.

'What should I do now, Bartie? I had to resign from the Engine Drivers' Union to join the Thames one and now I can't work there. He exhaled a ring of smoke. 'Can't work anywhere.'

Bartie took the cigarette and drew in a lungful while he thought. 'Well I guess you're still a locked out engine driver,' he said. 'We better get you registered.'

'Thanks, Bartie.'

Bartie jumped off the wall. 'If you get any more of those half baked ideas you come and see me first. You hear?'

'I will, Bartie. Thanks.'

* * *

William sent the children outside instructing the boys to keep an eye on their sister. It was the last day of the school holidays. Jack had spent a bit of time with Percy lately, behind William's back. Percy seemed to need Jack more now, since his father died. But Jack hadn't been brave enough to ask him back to the tree hut. With Percy's father gone it was sort of like they weren't on opposite sides anymore.

Jack watched the strike committee arrive. He thought they all looked older than their years; older than they had at the beginning of the strike anyway.

William called the meeting to start, unaware that Jack sat with his back to the wall underneath the dining room window casually peeling an orange as he eavesdropped.

He cut straight to the point. 'I think the company is going to open the mine with scab labour.'

'How do you know that?' asked Archie.

'George Graham's been to Waihi,' William explained. 'The man implied that the Goldmine Owners' Association would allow the employment of miners not registered with a union.'

'What?' Ian couldn't believe it. 'They can't do that.'

'What they're saying is that they will eventually come to some agreement with a union registered under the Arbitration Act...'

'Us,' said Buster.

'No. We're registered under the Trade Unions Act, which we are perfectly entitled to do. The point is that while the company employs scabs it won't see any urgency to negotiate with us.'

'Could he be bluffing?' asked Garrick.

'Why would he do that?' asked Archie.

Garrick shrugged.

'I'm worried about the increased police,' said Archie. 'It's no wonder all the newspapers are against us when the government's sent so many coppers in to crush us.'

'We are the _enemies of order_ ,' quoted Floyd. 'That's what Massey's calling us.'

'Unfairly,' said Leonard. 'I haven't had a dust-up yet. Have you Buster?'

Buster grinned.

'Well there's going to be yet another place to picket,' said William. 'The company is resuming work on the transmission line from Horahora.'

The men groaned. The Waihi Goldmining Company was so powerful an entity that it alone had the capacity to provide electricity to the town. Power was to be connected to the mines but not to the main street or residences.

William continued. 'About thirty members have gone to Waikino already, to try to persuade the transmission line workers to cease work.'

'There have been strong pickets at Waikino from the beginning,' said Archie.

Ian nodded. 'Aye, that's right. The evening ones have got a bit more intimidating. Some workers are being followed all the way to their homes. Our men have been more or less barricading them in all night and then following them back to the mine the next morning.'

Archie slumped in his seat. 'Good lord.'

'Don't worry, I don't think your Mary is one of them.'

Archie wiped his brow. 'Even so. It's serious. These extra police,' he said. 'It's a tactic to entice us to disturb the peace. Why else would they send so many? We haven't acted illegally at all. Even following someone home on public land and sitting outside on the street all night is not illegal. We are not trespassing and we are not touching a man.'

Ian agreed. 'You're right Archie. We need to instruct our members to exercise restraint. The minute someone does the wrong thing the whole picket would be behind him, and be hanged with the consequences.' He turned to William. 'Call a mass meeting.'

* * *

Garrick was having a drink at the back of the stables with Leonard and Buster when the bailiff delivered a summons.

'Are you Garrick Binnie?' asked the man.

Garrick laughed. 'Fred! You know it's me.'

Fred shoved a piece of paper in front of Garrick's face so he was forced to accept it. Then he did the same to Leonard and Buster.

Garrick refused to accept it as anything more than a joke. 'Are you serious, Fred?'

Fred stood back before he answered. 'Come on now, lad. You know I'm only the bailiff. I don't write what's on it. But do me a favour; read it before you tear it up.'

Garrick clicked. 'Ah! So other men have torn theirs up. All right.'

The men read their notices. It was alleged that their following up tactics were calculated to cause breaches of the peace. Their cases would be heard on Wednesday.

'What do you say to that, boys?' asked Garrick.

They grinned as they tore the papers to shreds.

* * *

There was standing room only in the courthouse. Justice Bellworthy entered as the court was called to stand. Fifty miners had been summoned and Justice Bellworthy intended to deal with them en masse. People shoved and pushed as they craned to get a good view of His Worship. There was whispering behind hands and crying babies.

Justice Bellworthy called for calm. 'This is a court of law,' he began. 'I understand that the law courts are as unfamiliar to you as a goldmine is to me.' He smiled, hoping to put the men at ease. 'In this court you may not speak unless I direct it. This is not a meeting in the Miners' Union Hall.'

He surveyed the room until he had the full attention of everyone, no more shuffling or coughing.

'You will each have your chance to speak.' He shuffled some papers on his desk. 'You are all before this court on the charge of calculating to breach the peace. I'm going to call each name and I want the defendant to walk forward and say the words guilty or not guilty.'

Archie held Mary's hand as the list was read out. To a man they boldly stated not guilty. Archie felt sweat bead on his brow as William and Floyd each stepped forward. Mary glanced behind her to Clara who could give birth any day now. Clutching her hand was little Tom. She looked worried and Mary knew the woman would be tormented at this turn of events.

The judge explained the next step. 'Gentlemen, you have a choice. I am going to bond you to a ten pound suretie for which you must keep the peace. That is, you must abandon your following up practices or forfeit your ten pounds and then answer to a charge of breaching the peace.'

Justice Bellworthy paused to let his words take effect. There was a rumble as the men quickly chatted amongst themselves. A sharp rapping of the gavel brought silence.

'I will remind you that chatter is not permitted in the courtroom. Should you choose not to take up that option you may defend the charge. The court will adjourn for twenty minutes and when you return I shall have your answers.'

'Court rise,' called the clerk.

A knot of men quickly formed around William and Floyd. William cleared his throat before addressing them. 'I disagree with the charge. To pay a suretie is as good as agreeing with the charge, whether we defend it or not. I'm sure none of us has ten pounds to spare anyway.' The men grumbled assent.

He continued. 'We could defend the charge, although we don't technically agree with it, on the premise that it will draw attention to our struggle on a national and international level. It will also tie up the court for weeks, especially if we defend ourselves.'

The wives and supporters had shuffled forward to hear William speak. Archie pushed in. 'Men. Be absolutely clear you understand what William is saying. If you are found guilty you will go to gaol. If you pay a suretie right now you will not go to gaol, unless you continue to follow up.'

The men looked back to William.

'What will you do Mr. Strawbridge?' asked one of the defendants.

'I'm not paying a suretie for a charge I disagree with. I shall defend myself and if I go to gaol, then I go for the working man.'

That pleased everyone. Even some of the wives set their faces hard in a stance of resolution.

The judge returned to the clerk's call for silence.

'You may be seated. Not you,' he said to the defendants. 'Are you decided?'

William stepped forward. 'I will defend myself, sir.'

That decision was echoed by the forty nine men.

Justice Bellworthy sighed. He should have known that what one man chose the others would follow. 'This court has no wish to see you all sent to gaol. I have been more than fair in setting the suretie at such a nominal rate. However, it is your right to defend the charge. We will start alphabetically. Arbury, Floyd; Wednesday ten o'clock.'

Justice Bellworthy banged the gavel.

'Court rise.'

Mary went straight to Clara who had gone pale, and hugged her. 'It'll be just fine, Clara,' Mary whispered. 'You mustn't let this upset you.'

Clara began to hyperventilate. Mary pushed her through the crowd to the sidewalk where she gulped in the air. But it wasn't enough. Clara clutched her stomach and bent double.

'Is it time, Clara?'

Clara clenched her teeth and grunted. Mary searched the crowd for Isabelle who bustled out of the courtroom on the arm of Ian.

'Isabelle!' Mary called. 'Over here.'

'Oh, my goodness. Clara!' Isabelle told Ian to call a carriage. 'Quickly.'

'Archie, get Floyd,' instructed Mary.

'Breathe, Clara,' said Mary.

Archie cleared a space around Clara who clutched the hands of Mary and Isabelle. As she panted beads of sweat formed on her brow.

'Get a cart, a carriage, anything!' Mary shouted into the crowd.

'There's a trap,' said Archie pointing towards the small horse and buggy tethered outside Mrs. Tattersall's. He ran off and led it back.

A man appeared running out of the tearooms with a white cloth tucked into his front, still gripping his fork.

'Hey!' the man shouted. 'Come back with my horse.'

It was Howie Wilson, Garrick's uncle who worked with Joe.

Archie drew into the crowd which parted to let him in then closed behind him blocking the frazzled Howie. The blockage was unnecessary however, as Howie had no intention of wading into a fight. Garrick pushed through to the fringe of the crowd.

'Emergency, Uncle Howard,' he said.

Howie smiled a nervous look of relief.

'Clara's having a baby,' Garrick explained. 'We need to borrow the buggy.'

Howie stuttered. 'Yes, yes. Of course. You must, you must.'

The girls helped Clara up and Floyd climbed alongside her, flicking the reins.

William, Archie, Ian and Garrick formed a huddle.

'That was a climatic end to proceedings,' said William. 'What say we wet the baby's head?'

Archie and Ian glanced at Mary and Isabelle who were busy gathering their children around them, including Clara's Tommy.

'Call it a strike committee meeting,' said William already walking away.

* * *

That night the Miners' Union Hall couldn't have been any fuller, overflowing with people backed up outside. William stated that he was prepared to go to gaol and until his case was called he would continue to follow up. He urged others to do the same.

Mary couldn't contain her excitement and she stood to speak. 'I was in court today. I want to say that I am proud to support such worthy men.' An applause erupted. 'I believe that the statement of the police has been given too much weight. The charge of calculating to breach the peace is a nonsense. For example, if I think to myself, I should like to steal a bag of apples, have I actually stolen a bag of apples? No. I have not. I could not possibly be tried of the charge of thinking to steal a bag of apples because the charge is nonsense.'

'Hear hear.'

'Our brave boys have been forced to defend this nonsense charge, since if they pay a suretie it would be tantamount to admitting that such a nonsense charge is legal. Ten more police arrived in the town yesterday. Waihi now has fifty policemen, over half of them mounted.' She laughed. 'Waihi is either the most protected or the most fearful town in the whole country. Fifty policemen for five thousand citizens? Who will tell me they are not here to incite violence? Does Mr. Massey think we will be intimidated by his blue army? I urge you not to take up arms. Do not touch a policeman. Do not go near a policeman's mount or you will go to gaol for disturbing the peace.'

Mary let her words wash over the crowd. 'I want to send our brave boys who were in court today our best wishes. You will do us all proud.'

She sat down to loud applause. Archie gazed at her from the stage, his eyes dancing.

* * *

Mary jostled amongst the throng of picketers, her placard blazoned with ever fiercer slogans. Today it read ' _Don't be a traitor to your cause._ ' The constabulary walked their horses alongside the stream of men making their way from Victoria Battery. Bessie pushed her way to the front and threw an insult to a constable.

'Was that your sister I saw you shagging last night?' she shrieked. She stepped in front of the horse and shoved her placard up in the constable's face, stopping short of hitting him. 'Oh no. I do beg your pardon. It was your mother.'

Some of the crowd roared with laughter which made Bessie braver.

'Here!' she yelled hitching up her skirts and bending over. 'See if there's a charge for this.' She let the constable get a good view of her bloomers.

'Bessie!' Mary scolded.

But the constable only smiled.

Mary pulled Bessie aside. 'Do you want to get arrested?'

Bessie laughed. 'Of course I do!' She spat in the direction of the mounted police. 'But they don't have the balls to arrest a woman.'

'There will only be women left to arrest at the rate the judge is sending our men to gaol,' moaned Mary.

'All the more reason,' said Bessie.

Mary let Bessie sweep along with the crowd. Some of them would follow the workers home. There was a story going around that one house had been under siege for a week. The man's wife and children were afraid to leave the house as the strikers staked it out. Mary presumed it was the Pickles' house. The man now had a mounted escort to and from the mine.

Mary found Rose and Isabelle then piled into the carriage for home. Mary sighed. 'It's getting heated, ladies. How much more of this before it blows back in our faces?'

Isabelle splayed her legs out in front of her and groaned as she tried to get comfortable, her tummy bulging in front of her.

Rose nodded at Isabelle. 'You should start taking it easy,' she said. 'Never mind the rest of us.'

Isabelle grimaced as she recalled Clara giving birth before her time. Of course Clara would let the turgid events upset her; she was a delicate thing. Poor Clara was so frightened and the baby came so quickly. She was a tiny seven pounds and they'd made Clara stay in hospital until they deemed baby Amy strong enough to go home. Clara hadn't been doing much with the girls since then.

But Isabelle believed she was made of stronger stuff. She dismissed Rose's comment.

'We need to box clever,' Mary continued. 'There's plenty the likes of Bessie that can continue this monkey business. We're better than this. Isabelle and I, we can speak all over the country. That's what we should be doing. Not taunting policemen trying to get arrested along with our men.'

Isabelle threw her head back. 'Quite right. If our men go to gaol then we have to step up and take their place. They won't be able to do anything in gaol.'

'Are we agreed then?' asked Mary. 'We give it a rest. Wait and see what happens in court?'

'I think so,' said Isabelle.

'Me too,' said Rose.

* * *

As they rode into town there was a commotion outside the picture show hall. A noisy crowd spilled out onto the road. Cowering against the wall of the building was a knot of engine drivers.

Bartie was boldly defending their right to go to the pictures just as the strikers had every right to. Sam kept his head down and his hands firmly in his pockets. He was happy enough for Bartie to take control. Hell, if the numbers were even he would take them on. It was high time some of his frustration was vented.

Sam knew Bartie was having a hard time trying to stay calm. Bartie wasn't the sort you sat down and had a chat with; he liked to use his fists. But the man wasn't stupid. This was a big crowd and they were itching for some action.

It wasn't long before the police arrived and the crowd dispersed, allowing the engine drivers to beat a retreat. Nevertheless it was a win to the strikers who pledged to boycott the picture show hall for as long as Jonesy sold tickets to engine drivers.

Mary caught up with Sam and they walked home together.

'I'm sorry about that, Sam.'

Sam grunted. 'Can't do anything. I'm sick of this place. The company's taking on plenty of men to work in the treatment plant at Waikino but they won't take me. You'd think us engine drivers had the plague or something. Funny how a miner can be a scab but oh no, not an engine driver.'

It started to spit. Mary pulled her jacket collar up and quickened her step. 'Come on,' she said. 'Race you.'

* * *

It was court day and the heavens opened. The rain hung on Mary like a bad omen. She had risen early as always and set the coal range going for her mother before heading to Archie's. On the way she dropped a food basket inside the fence of number six Union Street and picked up the empty one.

Archie was up and getting Fanny ready for school when Mary arrived, the lower half of her skirt damp and muddy. She shook herself like a cat.

'You haven't been picketing in the rain!' Archie exclaimed.

Mary frowned. 'Of course not.' She pulled Fanny towards her and retied the enormous bow in the girl's hair. 'Besides, I'm giving that up for a while. Until we see what happens with these charges.'

Archie sighed. 'I'm glad to hear it.'

'Are you?'

'Yes I am, darling. I worry about you.'

'You don't have to worry.'

Archie drew Mary in to him. 'I don't have to, but I do.' He kissed her.

'Yuck,' said Fanny screwing up her face.

'Come on, miss,' said Mary. 'Let's get you to school.' She turned to Archie. 'And you put your best suit on, Mr. Wright. We don't want Justice Bellworthy thinking we're an easy touch.'

Archie had met with the strike committee the previous evening. William and Floyd were more than ready to have their day in court. William was more ready than Floyd to go to gaol. They agreed that should gaol loom large on the horizon, Archie and Ian should act as president and vice-president respectively.

Mary returned slightly agitated. 'Crowds are gathering already, Archie. The street's thick with umbrellas.' She brushed rain off her shoulders. 'I don't think we'll get inside the court.'

'We'll get in, sweetheart,' Archie replied. 'Strike committee has privilege.'

With Thomas walking between them they slowly made their way up to the main street. A cool breeze funnelled between the buildings carrying sheets of rain with it. But it didn't stop nearly a thousand people turning out. The constabulary was prominent, marching their horses around the outside of the supporters.

Archie hoisted Thomas onto his shoulders and told Mary to take his elbow as he pushed a way through the throng. They found a place to stand near the back of the court.

Mary scanned the room. Many of those seated were the wives and children of the defendants. She recognised Jack, Percy's friend, and when she caught his eye she crossed her fingers for him. He looked away, embarrassed.

Justice Bellworthy brought the court to order and proceeded to hear each defendant defend his own charges. It was a protracted exercise with the judge having to guide the defendant where he was wont to be grievously side tracked.

Finally William was called. Not a word was spoken while he presented his case.

'I took no part in a demonstration where jostling and following Arbitrationists occurred,' he said. 'The union's instructions are clear on that. Strikers are under instruction to observe law and order and I contend that those instructions have been adhered to. The following up of engine drivers has never been authorised by the union or the strike committee. Any following up was the action of individual members of the union. The strikers were under control. They have never been out of control. As union president I have not lost control over the men. I believe that a number of free labourers are coming into the town and that union members may feel compelled to educate these labourers.'

A chuckle ran through the courtroom.

'Quiet,' said the judge. 'Mr. Strawbridge, would you or your committee approve of engine drivers or others following you and blandishing remarks like scab and smelly and various other expressions, holding their noses as they passed?'

'That kind of thing would not be approved of but it is difficult to prevent people putting their hand to their nose,' William replied.

'Can you recall whether your strike committee has dealt with any such behaviour?' asked the judge.

'The strike committee has not.'

Justice Bellworthy sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. He slipped off his spectacles and rubbed his brow.

'Mr. Strawbridge,' he began. 'Do you not think it would be more appropriate to arrange one or two of your members to meet the men you wish to convert, rather than following them around in large crowds? Take a frightened man like Mr. Leggot for instance. He would hardly be a fit subject to argue with and try to convert. I propose that it is advisable to discourage the strikers as a body, from following up tactics.'

William couldn't let that go. 'There are various reasons, your honour, that the Bench would not be aware, for special tactics on the part of the strikers.'

'I can't wait to hear. Do go on,' said the judge.

'It is not always safe for our members to go directly to the people. Traps may be laid. It has happened in other parts of the world. We must guard against that sort of thing.'

'Indeed,' Justice Bellworthy muttered. 'Mr. Strawbridge, the recent influx of police into Waihi would have some effect on the tactics of your men. What future action will the union take in view of this police presence?'

'Our instructions stand the same, your Honour,' William answered. 'Any man is entitled to stop another man in the street and speak to him.'

'Nobody denies that,' Justice Bellworthy replied. 'Do you intend to adopt the same tactics as in the past?'

'It all depends on what you mean by tactics. I am still in favour of the men using legitimate argument, meeting the others and walking along with them.'

'You put no limit on numbers? You are just as much in favour of hundreds as two?'

'I don't see how we are going to get over the difficulty.'

'What directions do you give the men who go down to Waikino?'

'Various and numerous.'

'What do you tell them?'

'The strike committee gives advice and instructions.'

'In an address to the children in Waihi, did you say that in some countries men like engine drivers would be tarred and feathered?'

'No. I did not.'

'What will you do to prevent further objectionable occurrences, Mr. Strawbridge?'

'Sir, it is too hard to take steps to prevent these occurrences. I don't believe they are offences. I will however, in the event that members of the union congregate in large crowds and argue the point with police or others, I will call upon them to disband,'

'If you had a procession of a hundred or two hundred strikers following an engine driver and arguing with him, you would call upon them to disband?' the judge queried.

'I would perhaps, if I thought they were all after the engine driver, but I could not stop those who had business on the street. The policy of the union is to preserve the peace. So far as I am aware this policy has been carried out during the strike.'

Justice Bellworthy instructed William to sit down. He called several more defendants, who not being as articulate as William, called witnesses in their defence. His Honour summed up at the end of the session commenting that the most remarkable feature of the evidence deduced so far was that none of the defendants admitted taking an active part in the demonstrations against Leggot, nor did they seem to understand for what purpose the crowd had assembled.

The court adjourned for lunch. Jack leaped to his father's side. 'You were great, Da,' he said.

William tried to be gruff. 'You should be in school.'

'Yeah.'

There wasn't anything William could say to that. He was suddenly crowded by supporters, some shaking his hand. 'It ain't over till the fat lady sings,' William advised. But the strikers were jubilant. 'She's sung.'

Archie led Mary out of court. A weak sun tried to dry the sodden ground.

'How do you think it went, Archie?' Mary asked.

Archie smiled. 'If William's found guilty I'll eat my hat.'

Mary threaded her arm through Archie's.

'I think it's time I treated you to a fish supper,' he said smiling at her.

Mary adjusted her hat. Archie looked wonderful in his best suit and he was buoyant. She almost felt like they could have been a normal courting couple far away from the strife in Waihi.

* * *

Archie put his face to Mrs. Tattersall's window which was steamed up. 'We won't get a seat,' he said.

Mary pulled him away from the shop front. 'Don't let's,' she said. 'Don't spend money on me.'

They wandered away from the crowds to slowly make their way home eventually coming to the church. Archie stopped and sat Thomas on the wall then he helped Mary up. 'Let's sit a while.'

He climbed up next to her and took her hand in his.

'I remember my first day in this town,' he said smiling. 'You chased me out of the house with my lunch.' He laughed. 'I'd finished my business by lunchtime but I was scared to go home. I sat on this very spot and wondered what the future held for me.'

Archie squeezed Mary's hand before tracing her fingers with his own.

Mary gazed into his eyes. 'You weren't frightened of me, my love?'

'You're a formidable woman, Mary,' Archie replied. 'In a gentle way. You don't even realise it.'

She dropped her gaze. 'Oh.'

Archie tipped her chin and held her sea grey eyes. 'And I so love you, Mary Bell. I love you with all my heart. Will you be my wife? When all this is over?'

'Oh, Archie.'

Mary leaned against Archie and whispered. 'Yes, darling. I will be your wife. I love you.'

They nuzzled, thrilling to each other's touch.

Archie pulled away. 'You've made me a very happy man, Mary.'

She smiled and whispered. 'I couldn't be happier, Archie.'

Thomas began to fidget, banging his feet against the wall.

'I'd better get going,' Archie said jumping down. 'Why don't you have the afternoon off? I'll see to the children.'

Mary leaped off the wall and kissed Archie on the cheek. Her heart felt like it would burst. 'I love you Archie Wright, more than anything.'

* * *

Mary's step was light as she walked home. Suddenly everything looked different; the muddy road didn't look that bad and would soon be dried by the spring sun, the daffodils held their heads proudly, just daring Mary to pick them, and there was the hint of a summer day yet to come.

As she approached the music academy Mary noticed the blinds pulled. She frowned, wondering if she'd forgotten that perhaps Nell had gone away. She was in too good a mood to deviate: she simply had to get home to tell her mother the news.

But something changed her mind. She tried the door. It was locked. She went around the back and knocked. 'Nell, it's me, Mary.' She tried the door and it opened. 'Nell,' she called again, letting herself in.

The blinds were drawn here as well. Mary walked through to the lounge. 'Nell!'

Nell sat in the fireside chair seemingly oblivious to the cold morning and to Mary. She lifted unseeing eyes to Mary. Her heavily embroidered white nightdress disguised the weight she'd lost and her blonde hair hung about her shoulders uncombed. Her bare feet looked like a porcelain dolls.

'Nell! What is it, Nell? What's happened?'

Mary took Nell's hands. 'You're frozen. Tell me what's wrong, Nell.'

Nell continued to stare into nothingness as Mary wrapped a blanket around her shoulders then got the fire going.

'Won't you tell me what's wrong, Nell?'

Nell slowly shook her head and then she whispered. 'I didn't feel like getting up today.'

'Why not?'

Nell shook her head.

'Can I open the curtains?' Mary asked as she pulled them back. The sun streamed in casting a warm glow over the room. Mary smiled at the photos propped up on the sideboard until she recognised a tiny black and white photo of Gerald. She picked it up and read the back. ' _So you don't forget me,_ ' it said.

Mary felt her legs weaken. Her mind filled with images: Nell and Emily plotting campaign strategies while Gerald opined helpfully, Gerald's absences and Emily's wrong assumptions, Nell comforting Emily after Gerald's death. Then the imaginings took over. Nell and Gerald sharing a kiss, a cuddle, making love.

Mary gasped, surprised that she'd been holding her breath. As she replaced the photo she felt scarlet creep into her neck. She stared at Nell. Did her father love this woman? Did he really love her mother and Nell?

'Do you want to talk about it?' Mary asked.

Another mute shake.

'I'm sorry,' Mary whispered. 'I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I don't know what to say.'

This time Nell nodded and her eyes filled so quickly with tears that they spilled over her cheeks. Still she did not move. She let them fall silently.

Mary fixed Nell something to eat then left. Her heart didn't feel so light now and her head was clouded with memories and confusion. She'd never ever suspected. How could her father do such a thing? She tried to envisage her father as Nell did, and as Emily did. They loved him, they both did. Both women loved her father in exactly the same way as she loved Archie. Was that so hard to comprehend? Was it wrong? Nell's grief was as real as Emily's but there had been no one there for Nell. Still there was no one.

Mary recalled the day of the funeral. Emily was supported by her family, Gerald's children. Nell was beautiful and calm, and a rock for Emily. She'd cried. Her eyes were red even before the service. She cried at the service, and she cried at the graveside, delicately, no more than was expected from a friend of Gerald's wife. Mary appreciated Nell's heartfelt sympathy and had told her so. She could not have guessed that Nell's grief was for her own loss. Poor Nell; alone in her grief for Mary's father.

Suddenly Mary wished it wasn't such a short walk home.

### Chapter Twenty

Archie and William stepped off the train where Desmond Nickleback, president of the Auckland General Labourers' Union met them.

'There should be two or three hundred watersiders at the meeting,' Desmond explained. 'We've been busy lads. Auckland Tramways Union pledged a levy yesterday.'

William slung a duffel bag on his shoulder. 'We need every penny, Desmond. Some unions aren't sticking to their agreement.'

The men climbed into a carriage which took them past the newly constructed Seafarers' Union building down to the wharves.

Desmond bit his thumbnail. 'The Auckland Star says some of your lads have been in court for breaching the peace.'

'I'm one of 'em,' said William. 'The charge is for calculating to breach the peace. It's rubbish!'

'How did it go? Did you get off?'

'Dunno yet,' William replied.

'William did a fine job,' Archie put in. 'He bloody should get off.'

Desmond nodded. 'It'll add weight to your speech. I'll use it in your introduction.' He looked for another fingernail to attack. 'Do you know the ladies who spoke on the Thames?'

Archie jumped to reply. 'Yes. Why?'

'They got good press. Thought if they want to speak in Auckland I could arrange it.'

William smiled as he noticed Archie puff up.

'Miss Bell, one of the speakers, is my fiancé,' Archie explained. 'The other lady is Isabelle McCardie, wife of Ian McCardie.'

Desmond nodded, impressed. Ian McCardie needed no introduction.

'Isabelle is pregnant, quite far along,' Archie continued. 'There might not be time.' He scratched his chin. 'However, I would be happy to take Isabelle's place.'

The carriage drew to a halt. 'This is it gentlemen,' said Desmond. They piled out where a crowd had already gathered.

Desmond introduced Archie and William who each spoke at length, putting the union's position of the Waihi dispute before the men. Their words were met favourably.

'We thank you for your financial support,' said William. 'So far the Federation has received over thirty five thousand pounds; nine thousand pounds of that coming from Australia. You are not alone helping us. The Waihi strikers have the support of the whole country. How can we lose when we have such fierce backing?'

The whole crowd cheered. William made sure the watersiders knew exactly the state of play. The watersiders would not back losers.

'I don't know how long the strike will last but I do know one thing.' William raised a clenched fist in the air. 'We will strike until we have unity.'

'Unity! Unity!' the men started chanting.

Desmond wound up the meeting and workers wandered back to their afternoon shift.

'We've a couple of hours before the train,' said Archie. 'I'm in need of a drink.'

William grinned. 'I'll second that.'

They headed towards Queen Street, easily slipping into the urgent pace of the city. Archie hadn't been in a city since Ballarat. It was exhilarating and yet lonely. He wished Mary was at his side. He suddenly had a thought.

'Do you know where there's a jeweller?' he asked William.

William stopped and surveyed the street. 'Used to be one in the next block.'

Archie darted off telling William to get the drinks in.

There was something about the window display, something about the reverence of the shop, notwithstanding the ticking of the dozens of clocks, that made Archie sweep his cap off his head as he entered. A little bell rang above the door and a woman looked up from serving a customer. Archie wandered over to the display cabinets. He was drawn to the gold. Mary had to have a gold ring; after all, it's gold that's brought them together. He sighed to himself. The prices were far beyond his means at this moment.

He pictured Mary's delicate hands and imagined putting a ring on her finger. As he stared at the glistening display he remembered Ann's rings. They were wrapped in her silk scarf carefully tucked into a wooden trinket box.

Archie put his hat on and stepped back out to the busy shopping street. It thronged with people, nearly every one of them wearing a gold ring, he surmised: perhaps even hewn from Waihi gold. As that thought materialised he vowed to use it when he spoke outside the town. It would make people feel connected to the strike. He smiled. His trip to the jeweller's had given him two ideas and he didn't have to spend a penny.

* * *

The men caught the afternoon train back to Waihi then walked into town. It seemed every bit as busy as Auckland in a different way. Coal smoke hung over the town and it was the first thing the men were aware of when they stepped off the train. It told them that this was home. Mounted police were more prominent for having been away for the day, where in Auckland they'd only seen one policeman. Massey's Reform government fervently denied they'd been sent to the town to incite violence but that's exactly what it felt like. There were too many men with idle hands, wiling away the hours drinking sly whisky, getting loud and threatening. The police were a natural target. There was an electric feeling in the air of Waihi, quite different from Auckland.

As Archie neared the Miners' Union Hall there was the usual cacophony of picketers with their placards. Nine more men had gone before the magistrate today. The whole town was a buzz.

Archie patted his jacket pocket, feeling the small bottle. It spurred him on. He turned off the road and made for home. Mary would be waiting.

He let himself in. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the house and Mary ran to meet him. He handed her some jonquils he'd picked from Mrs. Pearson's garden and embraced her with a kiss.

'Put these in water,' he said. 'I'll be with you in a minute.'

He went into his bedroom and upended his drawers until he found the trinket box. Memories flooded back as he caressed it. He opened it and Ann's rings shone at him. Suddenly he knew it was right. Ann wouldn't mind. She was a practical woman and wasn't he just being sensible? Making do with what he had?

Mary was arranging the flowers when Archie asked her to sit. He kneeled alongside her and fumbled with the box.

'Mary, my love,' he said softly. 'I want you to have these.' He opened the box for her.

She inhaled sharply.

'Mary, I know you should have your own rings, and you shall, I promise, my love.' Archie searched her sea grey eyes, willing them to show him how happy he made her. 'They're Ann's,' he said. 'But I want to make it real for you, for me. I want to do things properly for you.'

Mary stroked Archie's cheek then accepted the box.

'They're beautiful, Archie,' she whispered. 'But what about Ann?'

'Ann would say that Archie is being very practical and she wishes him happiness with Mary.'

'Then I accept, Mr. Wright,' she murmured and sealed it with a kiss.

### Chapter Twenty One

The courtroom was packed as it was for every session. Today was sentencing day. The defendants presented to Justice Bellworthy one after the other. Seamus O'Hara, Billy Flynn, Erick Simons and Elijah Patterson all had their cases dismissed on the grounds there wasn't enough evidence to convict or otherwise. The gallery cheered and hats were tossed in the air.

The magistrate was not impressed. He banged the gavel. 'I have warned you repeatedly. This is not a side show. Bailiff, please call the next defendants.'

Fourteen men, including Floyd, were herded in. Floyd searched the room for Clara who had come early to secure a front seat. She cradled one month old Amy and clutched Tommy against her knee.

The magistrate ordered the men pay a ten pound suretie to keep the peace for twelve months. Three of the defendants found the money but eleven refused.

'I have no option,' the magistrate sighed, 'but to sentence you to twelve months gaol.'

Clara gasped and nearly dropped the baby if it wasn't for the woman who sat next to her.

'It's an outrage,' the woman yelled at the judge. 'Look what you've done. This woman needs a working man for a husband, not a petty criminal. It's the engine drivers you should be sending to gaol.'

Justice Bellworthy couldn't control the court now. Everyone was out of their seats yelling their opinions. He cracked the gavel on the bench before dismissing the court then banged it once more for effect.

The woman helped Clara. 'Come on now, love. He'll be all right. My Jimmy will see to him. Don't you fret.' She guided Clara out to the street where the crowd had swelled and mounted police pranced their horses menacingly around the edges.

'Clara! Clara!' It was Mary pushing through the throng, one hand holding a placard above her head.

At the sight of Mary Clara burst into tears. 'What am I going to do, Mary?' she wailed.

'There there, Clara,' Mary soothed. 'It takes the fight to a whole new level.'

Clara sniffed. 'I know. But it doesn't help me, does it?'

Amy gurgled and Tommy clutched his mother's skirt.

Mary put an arm around Clara and led her away from the commotion. 'Floyd will be absolutely fine, Clara.'

'But he's not a criminal.'

Mary stopped in her tracks and turned to Clara. 'No, he isn't a criminal. He's a martyr to the cause. Floyd knows what he's doing. Don't be selfish, Clara. He needs you now more than ever to stand by him. You know what we talked about in the beginning? We must take our husband's places if ever they couldn't keep up the fight. Remember? This is your time, Clara. I want you to go to Nell's. Wait there until I assemble the girls.'

Mary took a handkerchief from her purse. 'Here. Tidy yourself up. Don't let those policemen think they've got the better of you.'

Clara smeared the tears over her face. She looked back on the crowd that spilled out of the court. Two carriages pulled away with a few men chasing to keep up with them. Clara imagined she'd seen Floyd cast her a final glance. She threw her handkerchief to her face and sobbed into it.

* * *

Nell was having a better day. Mary was unexpectedly understanding. She hadn't pried but Nell found that it was easy to talk to her about Gerald. Mary's empathy had been a surprise; she wasn't angry at Nell or at her father. She had every right to be. Mary hadn't said she'd tell Emily but neither did she say she wouldn't, although Nell felt Mary wouldn't add to her mother's grief.

For Mary's part the discovery sat uncomfortably. She wrestled long and hard over what to do. She still felt badly about taking the opposite stance to her father and mortified that they'd never resolved their difference. In the end that settled it for her. If her father loved this woman then Mary would be kind to her, look out for her. It was something she could do for her father.

'The gloves are coming off ladies,' Mary told the small gathering in Nell's studio. 'Eleven men were sentenced to twelve months gaol today, Clara's husband being one of them. There'll be more.' She hesitated. No one disagreed. 'The police seem reluctant to arrest women.'

Bessie laughed. 'I don't know what I have to do to get arrested, I'm sure.'

Mary grit her teeth. 'It's not our goal, Bessie. Who is going to do the work if we go to gaol?'

''Spose not,' Bessie muttered.

'Clara's got no husband now,' Mary continued. 'Right when she needs extra help. Who else's husband got gaol?'

Three women answered.

'Then we must help each other out,' Mary said. 'We'll take it in turns to mind each others' children and you can go to Auckland to visit your husbands.'

'Who's got money for that?' asked Bessie.

'The strike committee,' Mary replied. 'So don't you worry about that.'

'Henry says the Arbitrationists are arming themselves.' It was Rose. 'Isabelle, are you still able to get guns?'

Isabelle considered the request. 'I'm not sure. I'd have to go outside the town.'

Nell was horrified. 'Oh, no, no girls. You can't be serious.'

'Why not?' asked Bessie. 'Sounds like they're getting ready for something. If I was Clara I'd want the reassurance of a gun. No. You arm yourself my girl.'

I could let Clara take mine,' Mary offered.

She sheepishly caught Nell's eye. 'How about it Clara?' asked Mary. 'Would that make you feel better?'

Clara shook her head vehemently. 'I should think it would make me feel a whole lot worse.'

Rose stepped in. 'You would be a target, Clara, if the mine re-opens with scab labour. There's talk of it.'

'Don't be silly,' Clara snapped. 'Of course I'm not having a gun. Under any circumstances.'

'There's an assembly at the hall every single night,' said Rose. 'They keep us up half the night. Even Henry's spending time there. Sometimes it gets raucous. I wouldn't want to be alone at night and they're on our side.' She laughed.

Nell huffed. Bessie and Rose seemed to treat the whole nasty affair like a game. 'I hear some houses are under siege.'

Isabelle quickly snapped a reply. 'We don't condone that.'

'No. Of course not. But you're not letting the families go hungry?' Nell pressed the point.

Several of the women carried out night time food drops, skirting across the back yards of houses avoiding both the picketers, who by now had become following up strikers, and the victims, usually an engine driver's family.

'I had a close shave the other night,' said Rose. 'A dog bailed me up on Kenny Street. Or should I say behind Kenny Street. I crept along the side of Brown's house to get into the Portman property to collect the basket which we hide in the laundry shed and what do you think the Brown's have done? Only gone and got a dog! Well, I disturbed the brute and he clamped onto my skirt and do you think he would let me go?'

The girls began to giggle, then Rose too saw the funny side.

'In the end there was only one thing for it,' she said.

Clara threw her hands to her mouth. 'Oh, you didn't hurt it!'

'No! I ripped off my skirt and let him have it then high-tailed it out of there.'

Mary shuddered. 'Why on earth would the Brown's go and get a dog?'

'I wouldn't mind getting that skirt back,' said Rose.

'Be careful, girls,' said Nell. 'The newspapers haven't taken kindly to you. They're calling you unwomanly. To read what the papers say you'd think it was your fault the union levies are tailing off.'

'Well it can't be that bad,' Mary replied, 'the reaction to the press I mean. The Federation organiser is getting a good response to his addresses. Anyway, our menfolk are behind us, womanly or not.'

Rose opened a packet of biscuits and handed it around. 'The newspapers are referring to Bessie.' She shot a grin to her friend who beamed with the misplaced compliment.

Isabelle gathered up her children and rubbed the small of her back. 'Ian says William expects to go to gaol. The executive of the union has already resolved that Ian and Archie are to act as president and vice-president. We must ensure that William and Floyd are kept fully informed and their families must be cared for. William's Jack could be a handful without his father's firm hand. And I wouldn't put too much faith in his house-keeper. She likes a tipple.'

Rose looked at Isabelle's bulging belly. 'How long have you got, Issy?'

Isabelle rubbed it. 'Five weeks,' she said. 'But don't you worry. I'm with you until the end. If I can't join you I'll be writing for the Maoriland Worker and writing letters to the editor to every newspaper in the country. I might even write some of Mary's speeches.'

'Why don't we demonstrate outside the police station?' asked Bessie. 'It's them that's bringing these nonsense charges on our husbands.'

'Tonight?' asked Rose.

The women pulled faces as they considered it.

'Why not?' Bessie replied. 'Strike while the iron's hot. 'Before too many of us are left without our men and us holding the baby.'

'True,' Rose agreed. 'Easier to do it now. Count me in.'

The meeting disbanded and Nell gave Mary's hand a little squeeze.

* * *

The protest ebbed and waned during the night as the demonstrators tried to stave off sleep. Mary arranged a schedule where the girls took two hour shifts, thus in the first instance keeping up the momentum of the protest but also allowing the women to slip out while husbands and children were sleeping. Mary found it hard to stay away. Husbands came and went, bolstering the numbers.

The police remained strong throughout prancing their mounts at the edge of the crowd. Wisely, the door to the station remained locked.

Finally Mary wandered home resolving to do a last stint just before dawn. Tiredness crept into her bones. She would sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Away from the din of the protest she relaxed into a stroll. Ahead she noticed a moving shadow which tried to remain hidden. Her heart leapt. Was she to be the victim of a following? Why is he hidden? Her fate must be worse! She moved into the middle of the carriageway.

'Who's there?'

Percy stepped out of the bushes. 'It's me, sis.'

'What the? You scared the living daylights out of me! What are you doing?'

He sidled up to her. 'I was spying on you for ma.'

'What sort of spy waits until his prey is nearly home and then admits the deed?'

'Oh, give me some credit, Mary!' he rebuked. 'I've seen what you've been doing.'

'Oh. And what of it?'

'It's still wrong,' Percy continued, 'what you're doing. Mother is worried about the house. You're making her sick with all this stuff.'

'The house?'

'Archie's brother, the one who works for the mine. He came to see ma today. Says we have to get out. They've got a new manager.'

Mary hesitated. 'Oh, poor mother. When?'

'Two weeks.'

'So...' Mary digested the information. 'The company must be going to reopen the mine then too. Did he say that Percy?'

Percy shrugged.

Mary quickened her step and clenched her fists as the realisation dawned on her. 'They're going to take on non-union labour!'

* * *

Ernie Hardcastle cut a commanding figure as he spoke to a crowd of several hundred in Wellington's Post Office Square. He echoed the position of the Federation of Labour that had been trumpeted all over the country in the last few days: that the strikers who had been brought by the police before a class biased magistrate had done right in preferring imprisonment to a gag. He maintained that if a man signed a bond he would be dogged by the police, and would be in risk of arrest if he opened his mouth or even dared to look black.

'The strikers of Waihi are resolute in the face of unwarranted police menace,' he said. 'Why, there have been no assaults, no attacks or intimidations. And yet this government sides heavily with the capitalist mine owner by sending in extra police.

'The police are a necessary evil under capitalism, and paid hirelings of the capitalistic class.

'The Waihi Goldmining Company will tell you that the cause of the strike is an internal trouble among the workers. It is not! The men noticed that the mine owners were making preparations for a struggle with the workers. And when the strike was announced the company delayed meeting with the union. When they did meet the company intimidated the union by overwhelming the five union and Federation delegates. The company insulted the union by refusing to enter into negotiations on the grounds that the union would ignore any bargains made.'

Ernie raised his hands and his voice at the same time, incredulous that the company would take such a stance.

'Heavy timbers were installed in readiness for the introduction of a single-handed popper. So what, you say. I'll warrant you good folk don't know what that is. It is a drill that has the propensity to injure and maim if not adequately maintained, something the company does not have a good record in. The Federation support the Waihi union in its opposition to the introduction of this drill.

'The owners also want to tighten the competitive contract system of wages, but the miners caught them on the hop, striking before these preparations were completed.'

The lunchtime crowd seemed receptive, made more so by the uncommonly warm early spring. Wellingtonians milled around the square a little longer, eager to take advantage of the sun and be entertained at the same time. Ernie continued.

'You are unaware of these facts because the newspapers do not give you the truth. The New Zealand press is capitalistic. Only the official organ of the Federation is the exception.'

He waved the Maoriland Worker above his head. 'Every other organ, every other rag supports capitalism.'

Some in the crowd laughed.

'You laugh, sir,' Ernie boomed, pointing to a man. 'The United Labour Party is also guilty of treachery and organised snobbery. Open your eyes and your ears good citizens of Wellington. See that the police force and the class-biased judiciary are puppets of this capitalist government. I invite you to deplore the imprisonment of Waihi strikers and call on the government to immediately and unconditionally release them.'

Ernie stepped off the box platform. It was a fair crowd, he thought. But lunchtime office workers and shoppers weren't the most understanding. Nevertheless, speeches in cities always gained press coverage.

He shoved his notes in his jacket. He would use them tonight to address the Wellington Operative Bakers' Union who still had not pledged any financial support.

* * *

It was Garrick's day in court. Proceedings opened with Garrick alleged to have been following up free labourers on September fourth. He pleaded not guilty and conducted his own defence.

In addressing the court he contended that Sergeant Millhouse, in alleging that Garrick was in the front row at the demonstration at Waikino on the afternoon of September fourth, had unquestionably made a mistake. He called several police as witnesses and not one could state that they had seen him. He also called four free labourers who supported the police testimony.

When Garrick was cross examined he maintained that he had been on Dixon's Track and was also near the foot of Fraser's Track that afternoon, but he was not following the men. Corroborative evidence was given by Leonard and Buster.

Justice Bellworthy dismissed the information against Garrick, saying the case against him was certainly not as strong as in the charges against the other three concerned. It was quite clear that Garrick had been at Waikino and in the crowd, but it was not clear from the evidence that followed, or as to certain places in which it was said he had been seen. That being so he could not say the charge had been proved.

Garrick left the court to cheers and the protesters outside held him aloft, brandishing him a hero.

William slapped Garrick on the back. 'Well done, mate.'

'Yeah, I showed them didn't I?' said Garrick then he strode away from the crowd to the Miners' Union Hall.

'Where are you going?' called Archie.

Garrick grinned and turned to Archie without stopping. 'Come on,' he called.

He attracted a few followers, including Jack and Errol who'd skipped school to attend their father's sentencing. Garrick rushed inside the hall and returned with the Union Jack, dragging it into the middle of the street. He ripped it to shreds to the raucous cheer of supporters.

'That's what we think of the bloody Arbitrationists and their bloody justice system,' Garrick cried.

'But you got off, Garrick,' said Jack.

Garrick held a finger to his nose. 'But did I do it, lad?'

A shrill whistle pierced the air and a mounted policeman rounded on the group. 'Clear this mess up,' he cried. 'It's illegal to destroy a flag. Who will be man enough to own up?'

Garrick laughed. 'We found it like this didn't we, lads?'

The men backed off nonchalantly leaving the shredded flag on the ground and muttering their disgust that anyone would treat the Union Jack with such disdain.

Jack caught up with William who put his arm around his son's shoulder.

'Are you going to gaol, da?' asked Jack.

'Probably, son. If I do, it won't be for long. I want you to look after your sister.'

Jack didn't speak. He suddenly felt very alone. He wanted to tell his father what he'd done, that he'd as good as killed a man. Perhaps the only man killed in this whole awful strike. But he didn't. His da didn't need any extra worries.

'And don't wag school.' William gave Jack a playful cuff on the head.

Jack grinned. 'Course not.'

As they neared the court house a large crowd milled outside ready for more of the day's dramas.

### Chapter Twenty Two

William dressed in the suit he didn't wear for work and got the children up early. He'd been awake since the first blackbirds sang. He'd resigned himself to the fact that last night would probably be the last in his own bed. He'd slept poorly, the apprehension of today unsettling him. He'd got up in the night and stood at the children's door to watch them sleep. Suddenly he missed Sarah more than he had in a long time. She would have made it easier for him, or so he liked to think.

'You can skip school today,' he told the children. He knew Jack would anyway, and what Jack did Errol would follow.

Jack should have been jubilant at that but his father's likely gaol sentence weighed heavily. He toyed with the idea of telling his father of his misdeeds; God knows! He needed to tell someone. It was eating him up. But he noticed William's hard set to his face. It wouldn't be fair to burden the man further, what with gaol looming on the horizon.

'Will you go to gaol today, daddy?' asked Catherine.

William pressed his lips together. He wanted to make it all right for Catherine.

He forced a thin smile. 'Maybe, honey.'

She ran to him and embraced him.

'Jack will look after you.'

'I don't want Jack,' she said dropping her bottom lip. 'I want you.'

William held her at arm's length. She was the image of her mother. 'Ah, lass. What am I going to do with you?'

He hugged her.

'All right boys,' William said straightening his suit. 'It's time.'

They walked down the road into the town as children walked up on their way to school. Catherine clutched her father's hand, embarrassed that the whole school must know where they were going. Jack wasn't. He swaggered in front of William, even going so far as to grin at his friends.

The courthouse already had a fair crowd outside it, including the diehard demonstrators who had ever more slogans decrying the injustices of the so-called justice system. With Floyd already gaoled, the prospect of William going down struck a chord with the men. Obviously the union leaders were targeted. The Federation of Labour would use that to their advantage. On the face of it, it was a good tactic.

Archie and Ian shook William's hand and wished him luck. As the time came for court to commence the swelling crowd forced the men to finally go inside. William swiped Jack and Errol playfully and whispered something to Catherine. Then he and three other defendants took their places before the magistrate called for quiet.

There was something lurking beneath the quiet of the court today. The sentencing of their union leader would undoubtedly be a turning point in the view of the strikers and the Federation. It could almost be welcomed by them; the ultimate martyr to the cause. It wouldn't do their cause any harm at all. And that's what made it exasperating. How many times had he lectured these people on the exact reasons they were being sent to gaol? And still they came, they lost and he sent them to gaol.

He glanced over the expectant crowd; as many women as children, always dressed immaculately, as if that would testify to the good character of their husbands. In the back he saw Mary standing with Archie, his young boy perched on Archie's shoulders. Next to them were Ian and Isabelle McCardie, well known in Socialist Party circles of which he was not unfamiliar. It was well known that Ian and Archie were ready to step into William's shoes. He hoped they had the good sense to keep their noses clean. He peered at Mary and Isabelle, satisfied that they might keep out of trouble with those women behind them.

At length His Honour cleared his throat. He summed up what he saw as a case of going to gaol for misguided principles. Unfortunately as the men had been found guilty he must send them to gaol and further, rather than being held over in the police station where a rigorous demonstration would likely occur, he must send them on the first available train out of Waihi.

'Outrageous!' someone shrieked and the room filled with hoots and hollers as the defendants were shuffled out the side door.

William glanced back to Jack, who held Catherine's hand as the little girl cried then he and the others hustled into a waiting police carriage. Police horses surrounded them keeping the protestors at bay. Shouts rang out.

'Travesty of justice,'

'This isn't the end.'

'Don't worry, William. The fight is in good hands.'

As the carriage made its way through Waihi to the train station supporters ran after it picking up passers-by along the way. Archie and Ian found themselves caught up in the fever. The mounted police trotted alongside taunting the crowd.

At last the carriage drew up to the platform followed closely by the fittest runners in the crowd. The horses stamped their feet and snorted. The noisy crowd descended on them along with the police.

Archie finally caught up. 'Easy lads. You know what they want and they're not going to get it.'

He tugged at a man, hauling him clear of hooves as the police cleared a space for the defendants to be escorted out of the carriage and onto the train. At the sight of the men Ian called for three cheers for the martyrs to the working class.

Archie was shoved from behind as a figure pushed through to the front. 'Hey, sweetheart,' he yelled.

Archie reached after her.

'Daddy,' she called.

Archie lifted Catherine onto his shoulders and she wailed at the unhearing train as it carried her father away.

* * *

The men were silent as the train made its way out of town. They'd each expected gaol. In a way it was a compliment that the police thought William had so much clout that it would be dangerous to house him overnight. Still, it was a wrench to be taken so quickly from the children. At least it was no surprise what they were going to. That removed some of the angst. William wondered if he'd done enough for the children, leaving them in the care of the housekeeper. He studied the faces of his mates. He guessed that they too were thinking of their wives and children.

The train wound its way through newly cleared farmland before snaking through the Karangahake Gorge. As they passed through Waikino he was heartened to see a few picketers, unrelenting in their mission and cheering at the train as it went by. William raised his shackled hands to the windows.

It wasn't long before the train slowed and pulled into Paeroa. Surprisingly, a small contingent of supporters waited on the platform. Heartened, the prisoners thanked them until they felt the thick end of a baton, as the police herded them to the Fathers Hotel.

'You're here for the night,' they were told as they were locked in a room.

William let the blind roll up with a reverberating flap and peered outside. Demonstrators had gathered outside the hotel and were exchanging banter with the police guards.

'We're getting special attention, boys,' said William. 'Our overnight stay will give the Federation time to organise a proper welcome for us in Auckland.' He laughed. 'They're playing right into our hands and they don't realise it.'

The picketers camped out all night and in the morning the prisoners were loaded back onto a train bound for the Thames.

The train pulled into the station to a small rally of muted support. A reporter from the _Thames Star_ pleaded for a quote from William, who obliged.

'Tell 'em we're proud to go to gaol to highlight the injustices to the working man,' he bellowed staunchly.

The police moved the prisoners along to Shortland Wharf where they boarded the steamer Wakatere and set sail for Auckland.

* * *

The Wakatere pulled alongside the wharf at three o'clock. Only ever a fair weather sailor, William was relieved to finally dock, having spent most of the journey saying his prayers to Neptune. It took quite some time to realise that the biggest crowd he'd ever seen in his life had assembled to greet them; to see him. Behind a police cordon were three thousand people, most in suits; watersiders.

Cedric Glassmore, a wily Federation executive and member of the Transport Workers' Union, mounted a high pile of copra bags to stand head and shoulders above the assembly.

'We are all here to welcome you boys,' he shouted to the disembarking prisoners. 'We've knocked off work for the day. Three cheers for the working class victims of the big class struggle.'

There was no opportunity for the prisoners to bask in their glory. They were quickly transferred into a waiting cab.

'Shame on the police for not lettin' you appreciate the extraordinary turnout today.'

The crowd booed.

'Cheer up lads,' Cedric continue. 'You have the support of three thousand stood here before you and a hundred times that number up and down the country.'

The carriage moved off with a file of police walking along each side, all armed with batons. William shook his shackled hands at the carriage window.

'We will win,' he shouted.

* * *

Mary kissed Archie goodbye at the station and gathered a knot of children around her. The mothers yelled last minute instructions as Archie herded them aboard. For some it was their first visit to the gaol. They were heartened that the men had already been visited by former Waihi miners, now living in Auckland. Nevertheless, the thought of Mt Eden gaol sent shudders through them. It was rumoured to be cold, dark damp.

From first glance the prison was every bit as forbidding as its reputation. Its impregnable stone palisade shouted to the onlooker that within its walls was no place for the faint hearted. Only the hardest murderers and thieves would stand a chance in here.

The group was led across the compound to the building. It was the first time since leaving home the women could find nothing to say. After waiting an inordinate length of time they finally were allowed to see their husbands.

The men appeared in good spirits but there was something about their surroundings that made them look gaunt and pasty. Most of them had only been in a few days.

Archie spoke with William and Floyd through iron bars.

'Mary's mother has been given notice,' Archie said. 'There's a new mine manager coming.'

Floyd blew a stream of air out his mouth. 'They must have a workforce organised.'

Archie shook his head. 'We've not officially been told. No one's called a meeting.'

'You're going to have to, Archie,' said William. 'If they think they're going to open the mine with black legs they'll have a dirty fight on their hands.'

Archie suddenly jumped as something scuttled across his foot. 'What was that?'

'Rat,' said Floyd.

'There's more,' said Archie. 'The strike levies are dropping significantly. Seems the Auckland Tramways Union is having a hell of a job collecting it from its members. Some members haven't paid a penny from the beginning.'

'How's Clara?' Floyd cut in. 'She's never been alone before.'

'Clara's fine. And so is the baby. Spitting image of you, she is.'

The men forced a laughed.

'What shall I tell her?' asked Archie. 'I can't tell her how awful you look!' Archie shuffled. 'Anyway, twenty more cases have been heard. They played the court for a fool saying they would find sureties if they were given until the following morning. But come the next day they each said they'd changed their mind and would have to accept the alternative and go to gaol. It took the judge by surprise. He gave the court a lecture saying that the men were fighting for misguided principles. He said they were scaring the public with abusive behaviour that had nothing to do with the struggle. He got quite snarky. He said for them to change their minds about the sureties did not hint at much strength of mind, that it must be a glorious band of heroes who wanted to uphold the glorious principles to follow up, annoy and intimidate people.'

'We'll be about forty five in here then,' said William. 'Don't you get into trouble, Archie. We need good men on the outside.'

'Don't worry. I'll not be joining you. I have to admit though, it doesn't do us any harm to have our president and his number two in gaol.'

The gaoler called for time and Archie took his leave joining the women to be escorted back outside. There were tears from a couple. As Archie looked away he told himself he'd be blowed if he'd put Mary through this.

* * *

Mary took all the children to Nell's then spent a couple of hours in the court house. To the next batch of defendants the magistrate assured them that there was no intention to stop them picketing, and the police would not interfere in their legal right to do so.

Finn O'Hara, a man Mary thought liked the sound of his own voice a bit too much, explained to the court that after reviewing the situation carefully he had come to the conclusion that it would be folly to enter a bond on account of the aggressive attitude of the police. If he bowed or smiled at a policeman, or made any chance remark to his personal beauty, a summons followed and his bond forfeited.

To that Justice Bellworthy uttered that it was untrue and absolute nonsense. It was merely an attempt to justify the attitude taken. He asked the Police Commissioner, Frederick Redfern, to clarify the position of the police.

'The police will at all costs maintain law and order,' said Mr. Redfern. 'The police will protect anyone who wants to work no matter who it is, free labourers or Federationists. The police will remain in Waihi for as long as they are wanted sand more police are ready to come at any moment; it's only a matter of sending a telegram.'

Some factions of the gallery scoffed until the magistrate's gavel cracked a ring in the air.

Mary had heard enough. This was nothing more than a farce. Putting on her coat she left the courtroom and proceeded to Nell's.

The sound of the children singing greeted Mary. Nell sat at the piano unaware that Mary had returned and stood in the doorway watching them. Nell really was a beautiful woman, Mary thought. It was easy to see how her father loved her. And she seemed at home with the children. She wondered if Nell had wanted her own.

The music stopped.

'Mary! I didn't see you there. How was court?'

'More of the same, I'm afraid. How about you?' Mary glanced at the children.

'I didn't know what else to do with them,' Nell laughed.

As Mary gathered up the children Nell whispered, 'Thank you, Mary,'

By the time Mary and the children reached the train station Clara was on the platform gently rocking the perambulator back and forth. Mary pulled the baby's blanket back and Amy stared at her with big blue eyes.

Mary felt Clara's hand on her arm. 'Mary,' said Clara in a hushed voice. 'I hadn't noticed before.' She pointed to Mary's hand.

Mary smiled. 'You've got a lot to think about. No reason for you to notice. She held her hand out. 'It was Archie's first wife's. But it's all right. What else could he do right now?'

'You're a brick, Mary,' said Clara,' to think of it like that.'

Mary sighed. 'These are trying times. I take the good wherever I can.'

'Did Rose get her skirt back?'

'I don't know.'

The girls laughed.

'I bet she didn't deliver to the Portman's again,' said Clara.

Suddenly it dawned on them. Rose wouldn't have. That meant the Portman family probably didn't have any food. Mr. Portman was an easy target for following up and quite often demonstrators would camp outside the home, laying siege to the entire family.

'I'll get onto it,' Mary replied.

'Here comes the train,' one of the children shouted.

Soon the platform was bustling with news of the incarcerated men. Archie reassured Clara about Floyd, careful not to mention Floyd's lack of adjustment to the appalling conditions.

Archie took Mary's arm and escorted her back to his house where she had piles of notes and magazines strewn over the table.

'Isabelle and I are giving a speech in Auckland on Saturday evening,' Mary explained.

Archie embraced Mary. 'You are such a clever girl. I can't believe how lucky I am.'

Mary tilted her head to accept his kiss. She melted into him, thrilling to the touch of his body, and his masculine scent. She reluctantly broke away, smoothing her hands down her sides.

'I must get on,' she said clearing away her papers.

Archie lightly cleared his throat. 'You could work here.'

Mary smiled then planted a kiss on his cheek before sailing out of the room. 'You are a distraction.'

### Chapter Twenty Three

Ian insisted on accompanying Isabelle so Archie decided to go too. Ian saw it as an opportunity to lay the ground for his own political future, not that Mary or Archie minded: it added weight to the line up of speakers.

By the time they arrived in Auckland the event had ballooned to a fully organised Federation of Labour meeting. Jim had several speakers lined up to support the women and Archie and Ian would also say a few words.

'I hope we get a good turn out,' said Mary. 'Jim's gone to such great lengths.' She wrung her hands.

Isabelle rubbed her bulging stomach. 'This isn't the Thames Union Hall, Mary,' she replied. 'We've got good weather, a day off and the best support possible. I'll bet we get people turning up just to be entertained.'

'And it's up to you to gain their support,' Archie added.

Mary needn't have agonised. Jim had made the right call to host the event outdoors and many of the five thousand attendees had made a picnic of the occasion, arriving well before the start. However, as more and more people arrived a different anxiety filled Mary. There was nearly the equivalent to the whole town of Waihi and she had to get up in front of them and talk. Her stomach was in knots and she found she couldn't talk, even to Archie who held her hand tightly.

Jim mounted the makeshift stage and thanked Auckland for their ardent support. The crowd was indeed receptive. After addresses by members of the Federation and the union it was the turn of Mary and Isabelle.

Mary was thankful that the men had paved the way, that they'd read the crowd and prepared the listeners to receive the women well. Mary's mouth was as dry as a clog but it was Isabelle who took control, positively loving the power she seemed to have.

'I have the luxury,' Isabelle boomed, 'yes, luxury of a husband not sent to gaol on the dubious charge of conspiring to breach the peace.'

She took hold of Mary's hand and held it aloft. 'Can you believe that dozens of Waihi women are without their husbands tonight, tomorrow night, next week? Women who have done nothing wrong, now forced to take their husband's place. The company thinks that by sending striking miners to gaol is a victory for them. We say it is not, for every husband sent down, a wife stands in his stead, defiant and obstinate.'

To Mary's surprise the women in the audience immediately rose to their feet and clapped. Isabelle smiled and muttered to Mary. 'Go on. Doesn't matter what you say, Mary. They're with us.'

Mary cast a glance to Archie who nodded to her. She took a hesitant step forwards.

'We are no different to you,' Mary began. 'Wives, daughters, mothers. This strike has split families, wrecked lives, created uncertainty where before there was none. Where there used to be one men's choir there is now two: one for the striking Federationists and one for those without principles. Where there was once a happy school we now have parents withdrawing children. Friendships of innocent children are broken because we, the adults, say so.

'Who amongst you would wear our shoes?'

Mary paused. Not a single soul replied.

'Who amongst you would not support your husband one hundred percent for the right for better pay, for better working conditions, safer working conditions, for the right to strike? I look at you gathered here today, whole families safe in the knowledge of secure employment, beautiful, happy families enjoying a picnic in this utopian land, and I know that you are with me, with my colleague, Isabelle McCardie, and with the embattled striking miners of Waihi. I know that by coming here today you understand that the battle we fight at Waihi is merely part of a greater war. I invite you to witness with your own eyes the tremendous numbers of police that the Massey government has sent to our small town. It is on the one hand a great honour that he thinks us so powerful that he needs to send ten percent of the entire country's police force to protect the Arbitrationists and on the other, insulting that he believes that the principled Federationists are unable to articulate their concerns in a seemly fashion and thus need to protect the rest of the town.'

Mary let the words sink in. She'd lost the hollow feeling in her stomach. She glanced at Isabelle who smiled at her. She was euphoric.

'I invite you to join us in a march to Mt Eden gaol.'

Isabelle stepped forward plunging her great belly to a profile the crowd would appreciate. She carefully supported the bulge.

'I'll walk with you, Mary.' She smiled and again took Mary's hand and held it up. Ian and Archie took the cue and joined the women, taking their hands and presenting a picture of determined unity for the Auckland audience.

A light rain put a damper on proceedings as the Federation executive and the Waihi party made their way slowly to the gaol, losing about three thousand enroute. Never one to let an opportunity pass, Jim proposed a motion protesting against the imprisonment of the strikers. It was passed amongst much cheering and booing.

An even larger crowd assembled the following afternoon when some twelve thousand people turned out. Mary and Isabelle, buoyed by the success of yesterday spoke longer and stronger. Again a resolution was passed: the Auckland workers demanded the release of the Waihi strikers in gaol, whose only crime had been loyalty and duty to their own class. They unhesitatingly endorsed their action in going to gaol rather than be placed under police supervision with all its pernicious liberty snatching, and pledged themselves to act in whatever manner was deemed advisable.

Before they left for home they once again paid a visit to the gaol.

'You don't have to, ladies,' said Ian as they walked to the gates. 'You can wait here.'

Isabelle pushed his aside. 'Certainly not. We have to; for Clara.'

The gaoler would only allow two visitors at a time. He called for an assistant who led Mary and Archie into the main building. The air was rank and moisture clung to the blue stone walls. Mary shivered. Archie held her hand. On they walked, into the dark, the air becoming staler and fouled with the smell of human waste. Mary held her hand to her nose. Finally the gaoler took them into a room, lit only by a shaft of thin daylight jutting through a narrow slit in the stone.

'Wait here,' he said.

His footsteps dulled as he retreated. Mary edged closer to Archie. It was an awful place. She didn't want to be here anymore.

The gaoler returned.

'Follow me.'

This time he led them to William and Floyd who stood behind bars in a room with barely more sunlight than the last.

Floyd peered behind Mary. 'Is Clara with you?'

Mary smiled apologetically. 'Sorry.'

Archie relayed the events of the last two days.

William whistled. 'Twelve thousand!'

'Ernie Hardcastle is having another crack in Wellington at the end of the week,' Archie explained.

'We haven't lost our momentum, have we, Arch?' said William.

'Stronger than ever,' Archie replied, 'if the size of those gatherings are any indication.'

'We'd better go,' said Mary. 'Ian and Isabelle are waiting to see you then we've got a train to catch.'

'Give my love to Clara,' said Floyd.

'Oh, Archie,' William called. 'Can you check on my kids? Especially Jack.'

'We will,' Mary answered taking Archie's hand.

* * *

Archie was disturbed by a tapping on his window. He hadn't long been asleep. He snapped his eyes open. The room was pitch black; a thick cover of cloud obscured the new moon. The tapping continued then came a harsh whisper.

'Archie, it's me, Joe.'

Archie staggered to the door and Joe slipped inside.

'What is it?' asked Archie.

'I can't be seen here.'

'I know,' said Archie as he walked through to the dining room. 'Come in.'

They sat in the dark.

'The company's starting back to work on Wednesday,' said Joe. 'Some have started already, on Saturday, but officially it's Wednesday.'

'Go on,' Archie said through clenched teeth.

'Some of the men formerly engaged on contracts approached us saying they're ready to resume their contracts. I wasn't sure if you knew.'

Archie nodded slowly. 'You know this will get nasty.'

'You didn't hear it from me,' said Joe.

'I guessed it was coming. You didn't have to come here, Joe.'

'Why don't you leave, Archie?' said Joe. 'It's gone too far for any good to come to you now. You'll never work in this town as anything.'

'But we haven't won yet,' Archie replied.

'How can you win now?' Joe thumped his fists on his knees. 'More police arrive daily and men who'll take your place, union or not. Your leaders are in gaol. You had an opportunity, Arch. You could have been the strike breaker. The men listen to you.'

'It's not over,' Archie said gruffly.

'There's been a new union registered,' Joe continued. ''The Mine and Battery Workers' Union. They've set up on Seddon Street.'

Archie groaned. 'Do you think we'll call off the strike? Is that what the company expects?'

Joe shrugged. 'Guess so. Everyone thinks it'll end now.'

'Everyone's wrong,' Archie muttered. He stood up. 'You'd better go.'

Joe headed towards the kitchen. 'I'll slip out the back.' He hesitated, his hand on the door latch. 'I'm sorry, Archie.'

Archie slumped into the fireside chair. 'Me too.'

* * *

Emily opened and closed the kitchen cupboards. She wasn't sure how she'd fit everything into this house. Then she remembered; there was one less person. Of course they'd fit. Hadn't she been spoiled all those years that Gerald was mine manager. She'd taken it for granted. She never imagined a time when she wouldn't have two living areas and double verandas. A mine manager's house always had the privilege of location. Granted, it was near the mine but often it was elevated, sitting proudly above the surrounding workers' cottages like the one she lived in on the Thames. Her Waihi house didn't have that but it did have privacy as it stood apart from the rabble.

And now here Emily was amongst the workers, thankfully not in a tight little cottage. There were many vacant houses in the town: one in five people had left. She had secured a fine bay villa which sat elevated above the road in Kenny Street. Neighbouring houses were shouting distance away at best.

Emily was pleased to be busy. It amazed her that she could be so lonely with a house full of people. But of course they had lives to be getting on with. She'd had too much time on her own lately, too much time to think.

A call at the door disturbed her. Sybil let herself in.

'It's only me,' Sybil called as she marched in carrying a basket of warm scones. 'The boys are right behind me.'

She set the basket on the kitchen bench and briefly hugged Emily. 'Mind if I have a look around?'

Sybil poked her head into each room. 'Thank goodness Gerald had shares. You're lucky.'

Emily sighed. 'Am I?'

'Oh, Emily. I'm so sorry,' said Sybil. 'I'm so careless.' She clasped Emily's hand. 'You know what I mean.'

At that moment there was a commotion on the doorstep as Sam and Percy struggled with a side dresser.

'Where do you want this, ma?' called Sam.

'In the dining room. Then you can have a break. Sybil's made scones.'

Sybil led Emily back to the kitchen. 'Emily, have you talked any sense into Mary?'

'What do you mean?'

'I know she's gone a bit wild,' Sybil replied.

Emily bristled. 'Speaking to a crowd of people is hardly "gone a bit wild.". Anyway, from what I hear her talks are extremely well patronised.'

'Yes, but for the wrong side.'

Emily clattered a plate on the stone bench. 'I'm not so sure anymore.'

Sybil stopped buttering scones. 'What?'

'I never was sure who's right and who's wrong. Perhaps Mary has a point.'

'But Gerald!'

Emily took up a knife and with more grit than she intended dug into a jar of jam. 'I've had a lot of time to think about things, Sybil,' she began. 'I was never against Mary. Good lord, you know I have an appetite for social justice. Perhaps I would have had a better understanding of the issues had Gerald not been mine manager. I certainly understood Gerald's view.'

Sybil scoffed. 'Nonsense. It's because he was the manager that you had a better understanding than most!'

'Not true. Gerald was outraged at Mary's stance and rightly so. Gerald was head of this family. It grieved me to see Mary openly defy him. It was my job to defend Gerald, within this house and to the world.'

'And now poor Gerald's gone you've changed your mind?' Sybil was aghast.

'It's not that simple. I'm just not sure, that's all.'

Sybil pursed her lips. 'It'll be all over on Wednesday.'

'I hope so.'

Emily set the scones on the side dresser as the boys dragged furniture into the house. There came a voice outside calling for Sam.

'Bartie!'

'I called round to your old house. Mary told me where to find you,' Bartie explained. 'You all set to get back to work?'

'Sure I am.'

'There's a lot of miners returned to Waihi to start work,' said Bartie. 'There's a lot from the Horahora transmission line wanting to go back underground and also the eighty or so free labourers working at Waikino.'

'But that makes them scabs, Mr. Gilliespie.' It was Percy who appeared at the door eating a scone.

'Aye it does lad,' Bartie agreed. 'It won't be pretty. That's why there's so many police coming. We're having police protection to and from the mine.'

Sam threaded his fingers through his hair. 'I just want to work.'

Bartie slapped Sam on the back. 'We all do, son.' He turned to leave.

'Mr. Gilliespie,' Percy called. 'Do you not believe the strike will be over on Wednesday?'

'I think it will get worse.' He lowered his voice. 'You look out for that sister of yours.'

Sam and Percy transferred two more loads before Percy excused himself. He needed time to think. It was fair to say he'd lost his focus since Gerald died. At home, only Mary had strong opinions. She kept them all up to date with her comings and goings. But he didn't have a handle on the other side anymore. What would his father have made of it? Scabs!

Percy pulled his cap down tight on his head and walked out. He didn't care where his feet took him. He thought he wanted to be alone but his feet thought otherwise as he trudged through the town. The atmosphere was charged; people stood around in groups talking about scabs.

Soon he found himself at Jack's. He stood outside the fence wondering what he was doing here. He certainly hadn't planned it when he set out. Jack hadn't been at school since the day William was sentenced and no one was surprised at that. Percy knew that Jack had joined several pickets. The men loved it. He was a prize in their demonstrations; poor boy's father unfairly gaoled, their president no less.

Percy hadn't seen Jack since the funeral. The funny business had stopped, as Percy knew it would. He walked through the gate and instead of knocking on the front door he stalked around the house looking in the windows. Only the housekeeper was there, folding sheets. Percy was pleased. He didn't know what he'd say to Jack anyway.

As Percy wandered round the front he stopped in front of the plum tree. Before he knew what he was doing he climbed the ladder, then leaned against the wall of the hut and waited.

* * *

Daisy Gilliespie frowned as she emptied the basket. Amongst the tea, pepper and tin of pineapples was a packet of Oreo biscuits and a tin of Dr. Charles' Face Powder. Suddenly she felt the weight of the strike materialise as tears streamed down her face. She sat and stared at the two treats. The kindness of folk! It was unbelievable. She slipped the powder into her apron pocket then on a scrap of paper wrote a note of thanks to her anonymous benefactor, before tucking the basket inside the front gate.

She looked furtively up the street and startled to see Bartie and the boys. They all had faces like thunder. She sighed. Bartie never let up. Ted and Cyril got such a hard time from their father. Why they didn't just up sticks and leave Waihi altogether was beyond her. It was harder for the household having them here. Their strike pay wasn't enough to feed them all, not the amount those boys ate.

Bartie was mouthing off at full steam and Daisy caught snippets even before they got to the house.

'You'll start work on Wednesday if it's the last thing you do,' he barked. 'There's no future in this town if you don't. And there won't be a roof over your heads either.'

Ted and Cyril slunk behind, each waiting for the other one to defy their father.

'Daisy!' Bartie exclaimed. 'What are you doing?'

'Picking flowers,' Daisy replied.

Bartie frowned. They didn't have any flowers and Daisy wasn't holding any.

'What are you talking about?' she quickly asked.

Bartie strode into the yard. 'The mine's opening on Wednesday. It's all over, love. We're all going back to work.'

'That's wonderful,' Daisy cried.

The boys grimly followed Bartie inside.

'Why aren't you pleased?' Daisy asked them.

Ted shrugged. 'Ask him.' He spat out the words as he looked at his father.

Daisy glanced at each of them. She was weary. Since the beginning of the strike the atmosphere in the house was electric. It seemed the men were constantly at each other's throats. If what Bartie said was true, things might get back to normal: if having to explain a pregnancy to Bartie was normal. She was holding off telling him. It would only increase the strain.

Bartie explained. 'The boys can start work, scabs or not. This is a working house. I'll not have my sons sitting around on their arses while I'm out earning an honest day's wage. No one's going to make a laughing stock of Bartie Gilliespie.'

Daisy sighed. Bartie was adamant. He was proud to be a working man, proud to be the provider for his family. Hadn't he put food on the table for nigh on twenty years? Did Daisy have to take in washing to make ends meet? Did she have to do mending? No! Bartie Gilliespie kept his family in their modest cottage that no man could take from him. And that's what gave him power. It was his right as head of the family to expect that Daisy and the children did what was right and proper; defer to him.

Daisy smiled weakly as she surreptitiously felt the face powder in her pinny. The strike might be over on Wednesday, but she still had to play the peacemaker in this house.

### Chapter Twenty Four

Archie opened the door to Ian and Isabelle.

'You don't mind if Isabelle sits in do you?' asked Ian as he escorted her through the house. He carried Sarah and little Liam trotted ahead.

Archie called the committee meeting at the house; the Union Hall was too raucous. Mary had made oat cakes and she offered them to the children.

'Thomas,' she said. 'Take Sarah and Liam to your room to play.'

Garrick and the rest of the men arrived.

'I've just seen the police commissioner get off the train,' said Garrick. 'And there was another bloke with him. I think it was the chief of the Thames.'

Archie frowned. 'They're expecting trouble.'

Ian pulled a newspaper from his jacket. 'If we ever thought it was just a rumour this says it all.'

'Read it out,' Buster instructed.

Ian paraphrased the article. 'Hector Fryer says that the overhauling of the boilers and power station has been completed and they're ready to start work. Coal is arriving from Huntly. Men are _busily_ engaged putting the final touches to the overhaul gear in preparation for tomorrow's opening. Winding gear has been overhauled and tested, signals and telephone connections are in thorough order, electric light throughout the various levels is working. The inspector of mines has investigated and approved.'

The men looked from one to the other.

Ian continued. 'Further down there's something from the Goldminers' Association. After twenty weeks idleness the Waihi Goldmining Company is set to resume work with one hundred and ninety two men of all ranks, including miners, drivers, mechanics, blacksmiths, tramwaymen, labourers, battery hands, tallymen, clerks and office staff. He goes on to say how far from accurate was the idea of Mr. Hardcastle and party that the company would be powerless to recommence operations with any miners. The numbers don't include workers on the Horahora line or the power company. The total workforce is three hundred and twenty seven.'

There was silence around the table. Isabelle clutched her stomach and reached for Ian's hand. 'Baby's active,' she explained.

'Which is what we need to be,' said Archie. 'We want every spare man and woman demonstrating tomorrow morning. Can you get your ladies out in force, Mary?'

'I'll see to it,' she replied.

'But they mustn't harass the black legs,' he said. 'It has to be peaceful.'

'Do you really believe a clash between hundreds of men can be peaceful?' asked Isabelle. She frowned. 'You are becoming agitated sitting here. Black legs? Archie, they're strike breakers; at least that's what the company is calling them.'

'You're right,' Archie agreed. 'It's going to be tough. I hope you ladies can be a calming influence.'

Mary groaned. 'You haven't seen Bessie in action!'

'Well gentlemen. Let's get the word out,' said Ian. 'Every street around the mine entrances must be targeted. I suggest we have a meeting in the hall tomorrow night, to sum up the day.'

'Isabelle, you can't come,' said Mary. 'There's a lot of aggravation in the pickets now. We don't want baby coming a month early.'

'Don't worry,' Isabelle replied. 'I'm doing my bit badgering the government and working with the Federation planning its strategies. And I'm going to make some more placards for you.'

Archie left with the committee. Mary's stomach churned. It was the first time since she'd delivered her first speech that she felt apprehensive.

* * *

Archie was pleased with the turnout. Masses of demonstrators lined all the roads that led to the mine entrances. The women were out in force, many with toddlers in tow. They stuck together behind a huge crimson banner that read ' Workers of the World Unite.' Workers four abreast formed a column as they solemnly marched to the mine while the police trotted their mounts alongside the column frustrating the efforts of the demonstrators. The picketers hooted and hollered at the workers calling them scabs and black legs. Ted and Cyril came in for extra attention when it was realised that they were members of the Waihi Miners' Union.

Suddenly Ted felt a crack on the back of his head and he went down. The stench was something else. He clutched his hands to his head and they came away with rotten egg all over. Cyril helped him up as the procession continued its steady march.

'You gonna let them get away with that?' Cyril yelled to the police. But there was more action ahead that demanded police attention.

Jack tried to barge through the crowd into the stream of scabs but he was held back by the demonstrators, saying he was going the right way to end up in gaol.

When the men reached the mine the rowdy protesters retreated and wandered into town. They were primed; it was hard to disband. Anyway, the dynamics were changing. They needed to show the town that they were a force to be reckoned with.

Jack met Percy at the corner of Jack's street and the two went and sat in the tree house, which was now littered with plum blossom.

'So how was it?' asked Percy.

Jack was bubbling. 'It was great. The dirty scabs. We showed 'em.'

'Did you call them scabs?'

'Course,' Jack replied. 'And black legs. There were lots of police. We're not supposed to goad them else we'll end up in gaol but the women do. I don't care if they throw me in gaol.'

'Was my sister there?'

'Nah.'

Percy was relieved. He threw the ladder down. 'I'd better get to school.'

'You could come with me this afternoon, Perce,' Jack called.

Percy hesitated. In their uneasy peace they'd avoided the subject of sides. For a while Percy thought they could avoid it forever.

'I don't think so, Jack,' Percy muttered. 'I'll see you after school?'

Jack shrugged. 'Maybe.'

* * *

By the time Mary reached the mine entrance hundreds of picketers had already gathered and so had the police. The knock off hooter hadn't sounded but the crowd was shouting and shoving near the gate. Mary wandered up, her placard high above her head.

'What's it like sleeping with a dirty scab?' shouted a female demonstrator at a woman who waited for her husband.

'Did you ask your mother what it was like sleeping with her brother?' the woman retorted, much to the delight of the crowd.

The hooter sounded and presently the workers emerged, scruffy and weary. A roar went through the crowd and they shuffled into loose columns either side of the workers procession.

'Don't be a traitor to your cause,' Mary shouted. 'Unity or nothing.'

Suddenly Mary was pushed from behind and she found herself between the strike breakers and the demonstrators. The woman who had been waiting for her husband and was now in the procession took exception and hit out at Mary with her umbrella.

Mary received a thwack on her arm as well as a barrage of insults from the woman.

'Get on home you maggot Federationist. You're killing this town, you stupid cow!' The woman spat landing it on Mary's blouse.

Mary riled against her and shoved the woman with her placard. The followers became frenzied while screaming encouragement. Then a mounted policeman broke through the demonstrators, his horse's hooves instilling fear. 'That's enough,' he shouted whipping out his baton.

But the crowd wouldn't be silenced. 'That cat's bum started it,' yelled Bessie. 'Hit Mary with her umbrella she did.'

The policeman grinned.

The woman quickly refuted the accusation. 'She rushed at me and charged into it.'

'You're misguided,' yelled Mary as the procession kept moving. 'Listen to me. You're weakening our bargaining power. We are striking for you.'

The followers pushed her along, more horses now mixed in with them, hooves landing indiscriminately. As the procession reached town Mary peeled off to walk back to Archie's. Away from the demonstrators she realised she was trembling. She stretched her arm and it ached dully.

She dumped her placard inside Archie's front gate then tried to smooth her skirt and blouse before she went inside.

'Mary!'

She removed her hat releasing her long golden hair.

Archie rushed to her. 'What happened? Here. Sit down and tell me what happened.'

Mary flopped down and rolled up her sleeve. Across her forearm was a red welt, swelling fast. She winced.

'I was struck with an umbrella.'

'By a miner?'

'No. A miner's wife.'

'Did the police do anything?'

'No. They seemed to think it was a great joke.'

Archie put a damp cloth on Mary's arm. As he knelt next to her he threaded her loose hair behind her ears.

'Oh Mary,' he whispered. 'I shouldn't have let you go. It's too dangerous now.'

She shook her head. 'I'm fine. I didn't expect it, that's all. I'll be better prepared next time.'

'Next time!' Archie boomed. 'If you were my wife I'd forbid it.'

'And I'd ignore you.'

Archie didn't let Mary see his tight smile. 'Ian brought news while you were gone. The Federation has asked other unions to down tools for twenty four hours in protest at the gaoling. That's good as long as they stick to twenty four hours. The Federation has no money to fund more strikes.'

Mary took Archie's hand. 'Archie, what's going to happen?'

Archie sighed deeply.

'We still have support,' he said. 'The Federation, Australian unions, the New Zealand Socialist party.'

'But we're the battlefront, Archie. I feel like I'm a pawn in a much larger game. And I do understand the war but the battle is here in Waihi.'

'It's surprising to me that the scabs and the rest of the town are so vehemently opposed to us. 'With the influx of scab labour there's been an increase in hostility, especially at the hall. And that's even before the strike breakers started work.'

'Cockroaches,' said Mary.

'What?'

'That's what the company supporters are being called,' she explained. 'You know, borough workers and business owners.'

Archie shook his head sadly. 'They don't understand.'

'They're hurting.'

'I put this debacle squarely on the shoulders of the Minister of Labour,' Archie said. 'How could he possibly register the engine drivers when the Auckland union voted to essentially let them in as theirs? For that's what happened. It's almost as though he pre-empted the Auckland decision and when it was too late he couldn't face the mistake. There needs to be an enquiry, Mary, when this is over. A government enquiry, and heads should roll.'

'I agree with you, sweetheart,' said Mary. 'And in the meantime we fight a battle which is becoming increasingly agitated. I can see the company is filling all your jobs with scab labour and there'll be no jobs for our men to go back to.' She rubbed her face. 'Good grief, the scabs even have their own union now. It's getting rather messy.'

Archie kissed Mary's hand. 'Forget today, darling,' he said. 'Let's get you cleaned up. Can't have you going home to your mother looking like a prize wrestler.'

### Chapter Twenty Five

A week later Mary was back in the picket line, which had by now taken on a life of its own. No longer were the followers content to escort the strike bearers to and from the mine and dumbly chant what was written on their placards. The insults and jeering began the minute the men assembled for work all the way to the mine entrance. Women threw eggs and stones but were never arrested even though the police presence was omnipotent. As before, when the procession arrived back in town Mary peeled off.

'Where are you going?' yelled Bessie.

'Home. Why?'

'Come with us,' Bessie replied. 'We're following Charlie Brimblecomb home.'

'What for?' asked Mary.

'So we can have a conversation about unions,' Bessie screeched. She did not stop for Mary, who let Bessie walk on.

In the street ahead Mary noticed some of the scabs assembled outside the Miners' Union Hall. They appeared to be taunting the strikers. She hesitated for a minute, trying to decide whether to go straight home or to see what the fuss was about. She edged closer and saw that Dardar was in his usual spot. She went and sat with him.

'What's this then?' she asked, not taking her eyes off the menacing crowd.

Dardar slowly looked in that direction then at Mary's placard. Busy body women, he thought. Always telling a man how they should live their lives. Dardar had never forgiven the whole of female civilisation for turning his town dry, putting him out of business.

'They're itching for a fight,' he said.

'The Arbitrationists?' asked Mary.

'Both,' Dardar replied.

'I don't want to fight,' said Mary. She squinted through the shop window behind her. 'Is Rose in?'

Dardar shook his head and gazed at the assembly.

Mary groaned. 'Oh. She's not at the hall!'

'She's with that miner of hers,' said Dardar.

'Well, I'd better be going home. Tell Rose I called.'

Dardar grunted.

Mary turned her back on the commotion and walked along the main street. As she passed the doctor's surgery Dr. Dartford assailed her.

'Miss Bell,' he said. 'I wonder if I might have a word.' He held the door to his rooms open. 'Would you mind?'

He came straight to the point. 'I really must ask you to stop following people. It's very distressing to their health.'

'Is it?' Mary was surprised at this. She hadn't noticed any ill-effects on the men she followed to and from the mine. And even her brother took it in his stride.

Dr. Dartford continued. 'Mr. Plumtree, an official at the court, has of late been the subject of intense following up by you ladies.'

'Go on,' said Mary.

'The fact is Mr. Plumtree was getting over a nasty attack of influenza when he became the subject of some rather vociferous women, and he has suffered a relapse. Poor Mr. Plumtree felt so threatened that he has had to arm himself to protect his wife and children.'

Mary tried to speak but the doctor didn't pause to draw breath.

'Miss Bell, I can see no reason for this riotous behaviour. In fact, as you are probably well aware, Mrs. Plumtree has on many occasions helped organise concerts in aid of the miners' benevolent fund. You must speak to Mr. Wright. Please instruct the union to stop this disgraceful behaviour. I fear that a citizen's force may have to be formed to control the conduct of your ladies.'

'It's not me, Dr. Dartford!'

'That is exactly why I am appealing to you,' he said. 'And you do have the ear of the union.'

'I'm sorry to hear of the Plumtree's plight,' said Mary. 'It seems quite beyond the call of duty, as it were. I will speak to Archie.'

The doctor opened the door and quickly shut it door behind her.

Slowly Mary walked home with the dawning realisation that she had no say over half of what was happening in the town.

* * *

Archie and Mary presented at the gate at Mt Eden gaol where the sentry recognised them.

'I hear things aren't going too well for you,' the guard said.

Mary bristled. 'It's just a bridge to cross.'

The sentry called for a guard who then escorted them to the visiting room. Mary shivered. Six weeks into spring and this place still stank of damp and human waste. The coughs of inmates rattled through the corridors.

William was brought to the barred window and Mary startled. He looked weathered, greyer. Perhaps his face had taken on the hue of the rock walls. She smiled, disguising her shock.

Archie cut straight to business. 'You know the Federation asked unions to go out for twenty four hours. Palmerston North Flaxmill Workers went out and each man donated one day's pay. The Dunedin Watersiders' Union failed to strike. There was a ballot on whether to break with the Federation and it was so close they ended up taking a secret ballot. In the end they decided to stay but it got in the way of our cause. Consequently they voted against going out in support.'

William drew his mouth into a tight line and cussed.

Archie continued. 'The Auckland Borough Council is all over the show. Drainage board workers, quarrymen, Harbour Board workers, refuse collectors; some turning up for work and some not.'

'Every few days more of our men are coming in,' said William. 'I know things are getting heated.' He addressed Mary. 'I want to thank you and your friends for the work you're doing.'

Mary pulled her jacket tightly around her. 'Not at all.'

'I hear you were involved in a scuffle,' William said.

Archie put a warm hand around Mary's waist. 'She was indeed.'

William sighed. 'I get most of the news, as long as men keep getting sent down. But it's the business end I only get from you.'

'Aye, well, it's a pity you can't have a paper,' said Archie. 'The company makes sure a positive slant is put in the papers. Hector Fryer's putting a good light on production. He says they're crushing three hundred tons of ore a day, and they're going to have to put three shifts on when the tonnage gets to four hundred tons.'

William whistled. 'There are that many men willing to work?'

'There are,' said Archie.

'And they've got the energy at the end of their shift to goad the strikers at the hall,' added Mary. 'Quite unbelievable.'

'Where to from here?' asked William.

'We're going to do some canvassing for support while we're in Auckland,' Archie explained. 'Picketing goes on. Ian's working on the Federation, constantly making sure we are one hundred percent in its sights. If they drop the ball we're in trouble.'

William reached a cool hand through the bars. 'Thanks for coming.'

Outside Mary blinked in the harsh light. She shivered involuntarily.

'I forgot to tell him about Jack,' she said.

'He'll know all about Jack,' Archie replied as he took Mary's hand.

'Archie, let's have lunch on Mt Eden hill. It's a lovely day and we can walk from here.'

Archie gazed at the hill. He'd never been up there before. 'That's a splendid idea.'

The air was still and the sun warm on their backs as they followed the meandering sheep track to the summit. Mary threw her arms wide and twirled, offering her face to the sun. She laughed. 'Oh, Archie. It's another world. Look!' She ran to the crater's edge and looked into the soft depression, dotted with sheep. Then she turned to admire the city bound by the Auckland Harbour.

Archie slipped alongside and gathered her into him. He tipped her face to meet his and kissed her until she melted, her knees so weak she had to sit on the grass.

'This is an unexpected diversion,' Archie murmured, unable to release Mary from his embrace. She gently pushed him away.

'I've something for you,' she said coyly fishing inside her jacket. She pulled her clenched fist out and took it to her mouth where she blew warm breath on it. 'I've had it for a while but the moment never seemed right, and this is lovely and it's just like...'

Archie kissed her and wrapped her small fist in his. 'Then why don't you give it to me and stop talking, my beautiful wife to be.'

She let the locket slip into his hand. He smiled as he opened it and out sprang a beautifully coiled lock of golden hair. He gasped then kissed Mary again.

'It's beautiful, my love,' he whispered.

'And so are you, Archie,' she whispered back. 'You make me so happy. My life has no meaning without you.'

'Nor mine without you.'

Mary cast off her hat and lay back on the grass. She smiled shyly. Soon he was exploring her, his hands tentatively roving over her hills and valleys, negotiating white cambric underskirts. His fingers looked clumsy over the lace. He kissed her, tasting her lips, her throat. She thrilled at the warmth of his breath as he moved lower. Mary stirred at his touch, embarrassed at his obvious desire for her and hers for him.

'It'll be all right, my love,' he whispered. 'I won't hurt you. On our wedding night, I mean.'

She sat up, her heart thumping, and face flushed. She toyed with her hair and set her hat back on. She stroked Archie's face.

'Perhaps we should get going,' she said.

Archie jumped to his feet and straightened his suit then helped Mary up. He tucked the locket into his pocket then briskly kissed her on the mouth.

'You're right,' he said. 'One day, my love, you shall have days filled with special moments, I promise. But for now we have work to do.'

They descended the hill via the rough track and caught a cab to the centre of the city which bustled with horse drawn carriages and shoppers. Archie had arranged to meet with the secretary of the Federation of Labour, Richard Burnside, who was in Auckland standing in for Ernie Hardcastle, who in turn was busy garnering support in Christchurch.

Richard had assembled several ex-Waihi strikers to picket workers around Auckland city. Today the target was a number of men putting down woodblocks in Fort Street.

Archie and Mary caught up with the men who were badgering the workmen asking them to put down their tools. But the workmen stuck to their guns, every so often pausing in their work to argue with the strikers.

At lunch the arguments became more heated and police were called to control the growing crowd of spectators. Finally the foreman called the workers back to work and the crowd cheered. Mary was sombre but Richard remained upbeat.

'It's all good press,' he explained.

'Yes, but I'd rather like to think we had made our point clearly enough as to encourage a stopwork,' Mary replied.

'A war is but many small battles, Miss Bell,' Richard answered.

'Indeed it is,' Mary muttered as she squeezed Archie's hand. 'Indeed it is.'

* * *

Mary and Archie arrived in Waihi by the late train and said their goodbyes at the station. Archie would pick up the children from Clara's before walking the back streets home.

Mary walked to the Strawbridge house. She wanted to tell the children how their father was doing, and she felt a bit guilty at forgetting to tell William how they were coping without him. As she approached William's house a dark figure emerged and this time she recognised him in the poor light.

'Percy!' Mary called as he scaled the front fence, throwing an empty basket on the ground ahead of him.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

Percy laughed. 'Why is it I can evade everyone in this town but you?'

'Is this your idea?' Mary asked pointing to the basket.

Percy was mute.

'Or can I mention it to mother?'

'No, no. Don't do that.'

Mary smiled. 'It's very kind of you, Percy.'

'Don't tell Jack either, please.'

'The housekeeper doesn't know?'

Percy shook his head. 'I leave it in the tree house.'

'Come on,' said Mary turning back the way she came. 'I'll walk you home. I've been to see William this morning and I was going to tell the children, but it can wait.'

Mary was pleased to have some time with Percy. There didn't seem to be the time these days, to chat like they used to; everyone was so absorbed by the strike. Besides, it was different without their father. Mary supposed it must be hard for Percy. Now that she thought about it, Percy was rather quiet; self-absorbed, still blaming himself for his father's death perhaps. Suddenly he seemed more like a man than her little brother, he certainly was taller than her now.

'Percy,' she began. 'Did you ever find out who was harassing us?'

Percy bit his lip. 'Nope.'

'Oh, well. At least it's stopped. It was obviously directed at Dad.'

They crossed the main street, which was bustling with activity outside the hall, and weaved down the hill.

'Are you...' Mary hesitated. 'Are you... siding with the Federationists now?'

Percy spluttered. 'Don't be ridiculous!'

Mary nodded, subconsciously mimicking Archie's little double nod. 'Dad wouldn't want you to change your mind. He was a man of principle.'

Percy felt a welling up in his throat. 'You almost did.'

'I didn't in the end though, did I?'

Percy didn't answer.

'I wish I could make it better at home,' said Mary. 'You know, with Sam.'

'He thinks he's won.'

'I'm sure he does. He hardly says a word to me anymore.'

'It's just his way, sis. Don't pay him any mind.' Percy tried to make a little laugh. 'Sam just wants to work.'

They turned into Kenny Street and quickened their step as home came into view.

Percy held the gate open for Mary. 'Remember what you promised.'

### Chapter Twenty Six

Archie and Ian stood on the platform awaiting the arrival of Malachi O'Grady and Terrence Winterbottom on the train from Auckland. The men were part of the first strikers sent to gaol and they'd had enough of it. They'd found their ten pound sureties thereby pledging to keep the peace.

'I see the rakes are back hauling ore to Waikino,' said Ian.

Archie grunted. 'The battery's crushing twenty four hours a day. Men are coming back from Auckland to work.'

Ian fidgeted with his collar. 'There'll be a full workforce now. An unsanctioned workforce,' he added.

The train drew in and the ex-prisoners alighted. They looked gaunt, the suits they'd worn to gaol now hanging on them. Archie and Ian quickly surrounded them, escorting them away from the press and any Arbitrationists that had gathered to meet their own kind.

'Looks like you've had a rough time of it, boys,' said Ian.

'Let's just say it's grand to be home,' said Malachi. He glanced at the people milling around the platform. 'No welcoming committee for a martyr?'

Ian grunted. 'You were a martyr, but now you're a traitor.'

'What?'

'It's not what I'm saying. But you might want to keep your heads low for a few days,' Ian replied. 'Besides, you're not a good advertisement for gaol.'

'From what I hear you need every available man to defend the hall day and night,' said Malachi.

Terrence grinned. 'If you thought we're only home because we were sick of the food you're wrong. We're itching for action. And we weren't getting it stuck in gaol.'

Archie tore his hands through his hair. 'Oh God.'

Ian grabbed Malachi by the arm. 'Listen to me. We're not going to win if we resort to violence. You've used your get out of gaol free card. Next time you go it's for real.'

Malachi shrugged Ian's arm away. 'Thanks for the welcome party boys. Me and Terrence are going to avail ourselves of one of Mrs. Tattersall's fish suppers before we embark on our rightful union activities. Come along Terrence.'

Archie and Ian stood gaping after them.

'Round up the rest of the committee,' Archie barked. 'Now.'

* * *

'The men returning from gaol aren't returning for genuine reasons,' Archie explained to the men gathered in his dining room. 'They seem hell bent on causing trouble.' He wrung his hands. 'I fear they've lost sight of the cause.'

Mary set tea and fresh bread on the table.

'Those two you met off the train will have gone straight to get arms,' said Mary. 'I know that O'Grady family. The mother's as mad as a cut snake. She'll egg him on.'

There was agreement around the table. Mary pulled up a seat.

'I think we could do with some good press right now,' she continued. 'The newspapers have no interest in the facts. They insist on projecting their preferred outcome on proceedings. They trumpet that more and more miners are returning to work in defiance of the union's insistence that the company cannot employ men outside the original Miners' Union. They're predicting it's only a matter of time before there will be no mining work left for those who persist in holding out. They're already saying the union is beaten.'

'That's scaremongering,' snapped Garrick.

'It is,' Archie agreed. 'And it's supposed to be. The government and the government's puppet newspapers have been tireless in their campaign to suppress the voice of the working class.'

'And this sort of talk is designed to depress our strikers into thinking we've lost when we are far from it,' agreed Ian. 'We could lose a lot yet.'

'More than that,' said Mary. 'They're saying the union is doing a disservice; that the union is unjust in denying its members the chance to return to work while the positions are available. To hold out any longer and risk having no job to go back to is being put squarely on the union's shoulders.'

Ian picked up a knife and waved it in the air. 'It's a serious attack on morale,' he said. 'The charitable aid board turned down some women today,' said Mary. 'That's a very serious attack on morale; their husbands in gaol as well. They're also blaming the actions of the women on the union, saying that we are being encouraged to make public exhibitions of ourselves.'

Archie smiled. He suspected what was coming.

'Did Kate Sheppard fight for women's suffrage for nothing? Does our right to think for ourselves and to vote not extend to our right to support our own men? I condemn the capitalist newspapers for belittling women's role in this struggle.'

She banged her fist on the table. The men were mute and Mary bit the inside of her cheek.

Archie cleared his throat. 'I think we're agreed on the present situation,' he said. 'What we need is a plan.'

'The company has undermined our position by not talking to us,' said Ian.

'Why would they talk to us when all along they've said the argument is between the engine drivers and us,' said Garrick.

'Because there were already discussions on the table,' said Ian. 'And the outcome of those discussions would affect members of the Waihi Miners' Union. And now the scabs have joined a new union the company sees the Waihi Miners' Union as defunct.'

'But if we were to go into talks?' asked Leonard.

'They won't have it,' said Archie. 'It's too late.'

'Then how can we achieve what we set out to do,' asked Leonard, 'if the company doesn't see us as having any power?' He slumped in his chair. 'The company must be laughing behind its hands at us.'

Archie stood up. 'I know it feels like we've got our backs to the wall but we must not give up the struggle. Our union members depend on us. They have endured twenty long weeks of strike action in the expectation of better conditions and fair pay, not just for themselves but for the miners who will come after them. Those who have stoically and bravely held out understand that the struggle is bigger than a single battle in Waihi. They should be rewarded for their conviction and they shall be rewarded. We mustn't let them down and they mustn't resort to violence for if they go to gaol now we'll have let them down as surely as if we'd nailed their coffin.'

Archie saw the men to the door then without a word he embraced Mary. They hugged tightly with Archie's words hanging heavy in the air.

* * *

On the back of the committee meeting came a mass meeting at the hall with members of the Federation and union executive giving speeches. Archie presided, making a personal announcement.

'Tonight I want to begin by informing you that your acting vice-president, Ian McCardie, became a father to a new son yesterday, who he's named Andrew.' Archie held a fist in the air. 'Another boy who will grow into a working man, a working class man – a miner like his dad.'

Archie let the crowd roar then he lowered his voice. 'We are here tonight as the result of a long stand-off with the employing class. We are here for our future, for your sons' futures and for their sons' futures. The outcomes of our grievous struggle will mean a better future for all working class men and their families.'

Archie slowly paced the stage. The crowd was hot-footed and cheered at anything. He introduced Jim Campbell.

'My men, on your behalf, have tirelessly traipsed the country from the Cape to the Bluff putting across your plight and seeking financial support. From my short stay here in Waihi over the last few days I'll tell the country what I've seen with my own eyes; that the police and the scabs are trying to promote disorder, that they use every means possible to incite the strikers to violence.

'But I have seen that you men of Waihi are too well under control to lend yourselves to such tactics, no matter how great the provocation.'

The strike committee eyed each other. Jim couldn't have put it better.

'The days of winning fights by violence,' Jim continued, 'are over. Violence has no place in our protests. We are quite happy to leave that to the police and the scabs.'

Jim sat down to vigorous applause then Richard Burnside took the floor.

'I reiterate that the rest of the country shall know of the true position of the police and the scabs in Waihi, and the honourable restrained behaviour of the strikers,' he began. 'We workers observe law and order of the capitalist class, but we will never respect it.

The only law and order we will respect will be the law and order that is established when capitalism is overthrown. Up until now all laws have been made by masters to serve their own purpose.'

Richard let his words sink in before continuing.

'Some say that New Zealand would be immune from the severities imminent in capitalist production because of our geographical position in the world. But look at Waihi. We are embroiled in a struggle as our comrades in England have been embroiled in the coalmines struggle. Waihi dispels this fallacy that we in New Zealand live in some sort of utopia. Waihi proves that the class struggle is not confined to any country but manifests itself in every nook and cranny of the globe.

'Before I hand over to Ernie Hardcastle I want to personally thank each and every one of you for embarking on this course of action. It was never meant to be so long and you and your families have suffered greatly. But hold on. Have faith.'

Ernie addressed the hall which slowly over the evening had seen a steady trickle of newcomers squeeze in to stand around the sides and rear.

'I see a fierce struggle in Waihi, but it should not be surprising. As my colleague said, the fight in Waihi merely echoes what has been happening in other older countries. It was Marx who said 'The country that is more highly developed industrially only shows to the less developed the image of its own future.' Therefore we must look to the National Coal Strike in Great Britain for strength. If it weren't for that industrial action their Minimum Wage Act would not exist.

'But I come back to Waihi. The police! Whilst I have the utmost respect for the force as a whole it is outrageous that individuals have been allowed to gallop along the pavement in pursuit of women and children.

'At Waikino on Friday evening while I was waiting for the train with Jim, we were mobbed by a howling crowd of scabs, who only refrained from doing us personal violence because like all scabs, they are cowardly curs. Where were the police you ask? The police were not fifty yards away, cheering the scabs on!'

The crowd booed and Ernie held his hands up for quiet.

'Jim and I did not respond in kind. We continued with the good courage, the peaceful tactics we have used since the inception of the strike.'

Archie wound up the proceedings. 'Please walk peacefully straight to your homes,' he implored. 'I am aware of a scab presence outside the hall and they will taunt you. They want you to respond. But please, follow the example of your union and the Federation. Do not resort to violence.'

As the men peeled out Archie checked his pocket watch. Mary would have put the children down by now. She'd be poring through the writings of Marx and Weber, trying to pick out what would be relevant in the Waihi struggle. Archie smiled to himself and hurried home to her. He was too lucky to have the love of such a woman.

* * *

The town was abuzz with the arrival of the police commissioner, Frederick Redfern and the Minister for Mines, the Honourable Maxwell Blackwood. Speculation and conjecture was rife as George Graham met the men from the train and conveyed them directly to the company offices.

The men were locked in talks for two days with the company officials but no invitation was made to the Waihi Miners' Union. Then on Friday afternoon those very same officials in company with scabs from the Martha and Grand Junction Mines marched down the Martha Hill and along the main street, the empty brakes following behind.

Archie, Ian and Garrick were speechless at this new tactic.

'Keep calm, boys,' Archie instructed. Then he saw Joe marching with them but Joe quickly looked away. Archie marched alongside.

'What's the meaning of this, Joe?' Archie called. 'Are the scabs so frightened of a few peaceful picketers they need to hold the hand of the management?'

Joe marched on. At the foot of Seddon Street the procession boarded the brakes and under police escort, the workers were driven home.

The following day Mary took Thomas to Emily's so she could picket with Archie at noon.

'Mary, please be careful,' said Emily. 'Sam told me what's been happening. I don't like the sound of it.'

'I'll be all right, ma. I'll be with Archie.'

'But don't you see? That's what makes it worse. That man is a target.'

'That man is my future husband,' said Mary. 'That man is my paladin. He won't let me come to any harm.'

Mary hugged her mother. She wished Emily would come but she knew Emily would never dishonour the memory of Gerald.

'Enjoy Thomas,' Mary said as she left. 'And thanks.'

Mary met Archie on the street and handed him a placard.

'Here they come,' a voice in the crowd shouted.

The picketers were unusually quiet as they jostled for a view of the scabs. The mine officials led the procession of scabs whose numbers this time were bolstered by a contingent from Waikino.

'Look at yourselves,' a picketer scoffed. 'Puppets on a lead you are, dirty scabs.'

'Black legs,' others called.

The procession marched to the bottom of Seddon Street again but this time it turned to retrace its steps picking up shop keepers and other townsfolk along the route.

'Cockroaches,' the picketers yelled.

A dark skinned man slipped into the head of the procession swaggering with an attitude that defied anyone to remove him from the coveted spot. He shouted obscenities at the picketers much to the dismay of management which marched directly behind him. Suddenly the man dived into the picketers and took a swing at Leonard who wrestled the man to the ground and laid him out with a punch to the head before anyone could pull him off.

Half a dozen scabs came to the aid of the man and the picketers quickly pulled Leonard away, commending him on his quick reactions. Leonard heard a warning cry from behind but before he could turn around a horse was upon him and knocked him and two others to the ground.

The unrest spread quickly to the entire length of the procession. The touch paper had been lit.

Mary found herself shoved in the melee and a scab tore her placard from her. He proceeded to beat Archie with it until they were joined by a couple more scabs who wildly threw their fists about. Mary beat her fists on the back of a scab until she was torn away by his supporters.

A couple of policemen saw that Archie was under attack and immediately positioned their mounts so the attackers had a clear ring. He took a number of blows with fists and then with batons until he was beaten and it was only now that the police thought Archie had had enough that they dispersed the attackers.

'Oh, Archie,' Mary gasped. She cradled his bloody head on her lap. She scowled at the police. 'Are you pleased with yourselves? You will not get away with this.'

'I don't know what you can mean, miss,' he smirked. 'I broke up the fight between the Arbitrationists and Federationists as quickly as I could.'

'Yes,' Mary spat. 'You practice your speech for court, for that's where I'll see you. In court!'

A call went along the street for the picketers to retreat.

Ian climbed upon a rake. 'It's clear that the scabs and cockroaches are backed by the police. Today we are outnumbered. They got what they wanted today, a riot in the main street of Waihi. But we are outnumbered. Strikers, go home. Go home to your wives. You have acted honourably whilst the capitalist owners hide behind the police and their commissioner and the Minister of Mines. We will take our fight into the courtroom after today, mark my words.'

But some factions still fought. Jack received a split lip and the blood that poured from it made his injury look worse than it was. He tore through the doors of the stable followed by a possie of scabs brandishing batons.

Behind him a policeman witnessed the chase and placed his mount at the door of the stable where the scabs continued to scream obscenities at the boy.

'Hand over your weapons,' the policeman demanded.

Reluctantly the offenders complied.

'All of them,' he said.

Two of the men produced revolvers and the policeman made them empty the barrels onto the ground before taking them. 'Go!'

Jack peered through the door. The policeman was driving them away. Jack wiped his face and bolted for home, not stopping until he reached the safety of the tree hut.

* * *

Mary tended Archie. Bruises already showed on his arms, legs and body where he'd taken the full force of batons.

'We didn't stand a chance,' Mary lamented as she dabbed tea tree water on his body.

Archie winced. 'Lucky it was only batons. They've got revolvers.'

'I know. That surprised me. I thought the strikers more or less had the monopoly on the town supply.'

'They've been planning this a while,' Archie agreed. 'It takes time to get so many men armed.'

He stroked Mary's arm. 'I'm sorry, darling.'

Mary smiled sadly. 'It's not your fault, Archie Wright. You have nothing to be sorry about.' She pulled his shirt down and kissed him lightly on the lips. 'How does it feel?'

Archie stretched his arms. 'A bit stiff, but I'm good.' He forced a smile.

'The whole thing was witnessed you know,' said Mary. 'The police commissioner and the Minister for Mines cannot deny what happened.'

Archie shook his head slowly. 'But what will be their version of the truth? The police commissioner is contemptible. He was complicit in the police actions, Mary.'

'Then there must be a separate government enquiry. They cannot get away with this.'

'When this is all over,' said Archie. 'We must make sure that happens.'

'Oh we will, don't worry. We will.'

* * *

The strike committee met at Archie's.

Garrick wrung his cap in his hands. 'Christ, Archie. It's a battleground out there.'

Archie lifted his head from the paperwork he was buried in.

'What now?' he asked.

Ian explained. 'The scabs have a list of Federationists' names and those on the list are targeted for vigilante action. They're forming mobs and targeting us, laying whole families under siege.'

'And they've got licence to thieve from our houses,' said Buster. 'When I got home yesterday our house was in a state, stuff spilled out everywhere. The police sanction it. You can't tell them.'

Archie slowly drew breath. 'We're all on the list of course.'

Ian handed Archie a telegram. 'Jim wants us to go to Wellington for a Federation conference.'

'Both of us can't go,' said Archie.

'I agree,' said Ian. 'I'll go. You're too battered yet. But Isabelle...'

'Mary can stay with her,' said Archie.

'The hall is being targeted by the Arbitrationists,' said Garrick. 'The tables have completely turned. We're outnumbered but we're defending the hall at all times. The scabs are relentless.' He swept his hands through his hair. 'There's been no call for peace on their side. And I'll be ready for 'em when they strike.'

'I want the Monday picket called off,' said Archie. 'At least until some order is restored. William needs to be told.'

'Buster and I can tell him,' said Leonard.

'Take Jack with you,' Archie replied. 'The boy's running amok. He might listen to his father. I don't want to be responsible for him getting hurt.'

Archie walked the men to the door. 'Can you send Mary around? And don't worry, Ian. She'll look after Isabelle.'

Archie tidied up then put a kettle of water on the range while he waited for Mary.

The frown on her face told him the boys had conveyed the worst of the news. She ran to him and held him tight.

'Archie. 'Ian says you're in danger. Or should I say, more danger.'

'Hey, hey, darling.' Archie held her at arm's length and stroked her hair. 'Not so dramatic. I'm fine.'

'Don't be a martyr, Archie. Look at you, black and blue, the living daylights already beaten out of you.'

'They were never going to kill me.'

'How can you be so sure? It's only the crowd that prevented it.'

'Ian has to go away for a couple of nights; to Wellington. Could you stay with Isabelle?'

'Of course.'

Archie wrung his hands. 'I need to ask a favour.'

'What is it?'

'Could you take Fanny and Thomas with you? I really do need to be out with my men.'

Mary smiled and repeated softly. 'My men. I suppose a general needs to be seen leading from the front.' Then a thought worried her. 'But if they know you're alone, you'll be a bigger target than ever, Archie.'

She paced the room. 'I don't know. I'm not sure it's a good idea.'

'Mary, no one will target a house with only women and children,' Archie said. 'Everyone will know Ian is away and I'm asking you to go to give Ian peace of mind.'

'I'm not worried for myself,' Mary reproached him. 'I don't want you to get hurt. More hurt.'

'Then do as I ask. Please.'

Mary squeezed her mouth into a tight line. 'If you wish.'

Archie breathed a sigh of relief.

'You have a most charitable view of women if you think they won't attack other women,' she teased. 'Have you learnt nothing from the picket lines?'

Mary walked into the kitchen and opened the top cupboard. She stretched her fingers along the shelf until she felt the cloth. She handed it to Archie, who unwrapped a corner. He frowned.

'You'll need this,' she said.

Archie fixed his eyes on Mary's, silently asking her to explain.

'From Isabelle,' Mary explained simply. She walked into the children's bedroom and threw some clothes into a case. 'I suppose Ian will take the morning train. I'll pick the children up first thing.' She turned to Archie who stood in the door way. 'Do you think it's safe for you to sleep alone here?'

'If I don't they'll burn the house down,' he replied.

'No!'

Archie nodded. 'There have been threats. It's not just the hall they've threatened to burn down.'

'God, this is awful.'

Mary snapped the suitcase shut then hurried past Archie.

'Where are you going?' he asked.

'To see that Clara is safe,' Mary replied. 'I'll get Rose to stay with her. I had no idea things had got so bad. There are a lot of women and children on their own, what with their husbands in gaol. I'll keep Fanny home from school. It's not safe for her.'

Mary hugged Archie and dashed off.

* * *

Although the Federationists didn't picket the scabs at knock off there was still a heavy police presence to escort the workers home. Archie braced himself for another tirade against the strikers at the hall.

'Here they come,' Garrick shouted. He patted his jacket pocket, reassured by the feel of hard metal.

'Hide your batons men,' Archie yelled. 'We are not the instigators. Use your weapons only to defend yourselves.'

The scabs drew closer and a bunch of about fifty men took up positions in front of the hall yelling obscenities while police milled around the outside, viewing the confrontation as entertainment. A slanging match ensued but no side made any attempt to move. The stand-off lasted until dark when the antagonists were reduced to about thirty. They would camp out all night harassing the occupants of the hall.

The first of the strikers finally decided to go home and made an escape out the back door only to find the door guarded. The man did not retreat or run and was beaten by several scabs. The commotion drew the attention of a policeman who let the scabs have their fun before breaking up the fight. The policeman then escorted the wounded man home.

'If anyone wants to go home,' Archie announced, 'don't go alone. Organise yourselves into groups. There are plenty of us here to see out the night.'

'You go, Archie,' a voice called. 'Go get some sleep, man. We're all right.'

The man was right. Archie was weary and his body was still stiff from the beating. And he was genuinely worried that the house might be set on fire while it was known to be empty. He organised a small group to make his escape.

'I'll be in first thing,' he told the others.

The men formed a tight knot and exited by the front door. The crowd pushed in close so that Archie's men were forced to shoulder a route through. The police brought their horses right into the fray tactically blocking Archie from making headway but no blows were struck and eventually the men got away. A scab ran to catch them up and drew short, yelling obscenities, secure in the knowledge that he was still within fighting distance of his fellow scabs.

'Ignore him, boys,' said Archie through gritted teeth.

Out of the main street and into the darkness several scabs followed Archie's group then disappeared.

'They've gone,' said one of the men.

'Don't let your guard down,' said Archie. Just then a group of followers appeared, slowly walking towards them swinging batons and snapping them into their hands.

'Well well,' said the ringleader. 'What a prize we have here, Mickey. If it isn't Mr. Waihi Trade Union of Workers himself.' The man spat the words. 'What do you think of your union now?'

'You're not doing your class any favours by working for a company that doesn't care what union you're in or what Act you're registered under,' said Archie. 'Do you even know what the fight is about? This is for you.'

The men snarled. He walked menacingly closer and waved his baton. 'And this is for you.'

Archie's men drew their weapons and a furious beating ensued on both sides. Finally Archie struck a man on the head, knocking him to the ground. Then it was all on as both sides couldn't wait to knock the other senseless. Batons flew and struck, the men grunting as they received the strikes. Soon there were more men down than standing and a cry rang out.

'That's enough.' It was an Arbitrationist.

'Why didn't you use your gun?' asked one of the Federationists.

'Without witnesses?' asked Archie.

'I'd have witnessed it.' It was a woman's voice.

'Mary! What are you doing out here?'

She had her revolver cocked and nervously held it at the group of scabs with two hands.

'Put that down, sweetheart,' said Archie. 'Just aim it at the ground.'

Mary addressed the scabs. 'Get away. Go on. Get.'

The men scrambled up from the ground and high tailed it back to the main street.

Mary let out a huge sigh and it was only when Archie took her in his embrace did she notice how much she trembled. He gently took the gun and disarmed it. She glanced along the street to Isabelle's.

'There are all sorts of coming and goings, Archie. We've got light in every room.' She shivered. 'We hear shouts and scuffles. Luckily for you.'

Archie put his arm around her shoulders. 'Come on, sweetheart. I'll walk you back. You men go on home. Watch your backs.'

As they walked Archie held Mary close, her warmth a pleasant sensation against the cool air. At the door to the house he hugged Mary tightly.

'I didn't thank you,' he whispered as he stroked her hair.

Mary's breath was shallow and every sense heightened as adrenalin surged through her veins. She drew back her head and let her lips part. The smell of Archie filled her.

He pressed his lips against hers and she kissed him hungrily until her legs weakened.

'Oh, Mary, Mary,' Archie whispered. 'My darling girl. Go inside now. Look after Isabelle and the children.' He kissed her again. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

### Chapter Twenty Seven

Archie scooted home sticking to the shadows now aware of the sharp pain of the baton strikes. Union Street was quiet, but Archie couldn't be sure his house wasn't being staked out. He ducked behind a bush at the corner of the road and waited. There was no movement or sound. He sneaked around the back of his cottage and let himself in.

It felt odd: he hadn't spent a night alone since he married Ann. And not long after that there'd always been the gentle breathing of the children as they slept. It was a reassuring sound that when suddenly it wasn't there made the silence boom in his eardrums.

Slowly Archie prepared for bed. How he longed for a drink to settle him. His mind replayed the events of the night. How had it escalated so quickly? Hadn't he been relentless in his quest for the voice of the working class to be heard? Perhaps he was obsessed with the philosophy behind the Waihi fight. But then, the union executive had a good mix of men; surely they appealed to all their members. Why had they not got the message across?

His thoughts turned to Mary. If only he could roll over and feel her smooth body next to his. She would respond to his tender touch and he would make love to her giving her every ounce of his being. Instead she was fighting a fight that was never hers to fight, but for him. Instead, she was hunkering down with a gun.

When sleep came Archie slept fitfully. At the sound of the first blackbirds he crawled out of bed, dressed and went back to the hall.

A few die-hard scabs milled around the front without much inclination to yell and scream. A couple shot Archie a half-hearted obscenity. By the beginning of the working shift the unionist defenders of the hall had been partially relieved and the numbers outside had bolstered to about thirty, now refreshed, armed and riotous. Mounted police backed them up.

'You might as well pack up and leave,' taunted an Arbitrationist.

'It's you who should be leaving, you dirty black-legs,' a striker shot back.

'There are no jobs for you now,' came the retort.

'You're a disgrace to your class,' the striker replied. Then he spat hitting the protagonist directly in the face.

Suddenly there was a skirmish and several scabs charged into the hall. A shot rang out and a scab crashed screaming to the floor clutching his knee.

A rush ensued as the attackers crushed into the hall oblivious to the cries of the downed man. Overwhelmed, Archie gave the call to retreat trying to ensure he was last out. As he scrambled out the door he was tackled from behind then he heard another shot. The tackler was unphased and after him.

The unionists ahead of Archie called for him to flee and he managed to stumble outside half dragging his assailant with him. But the attacker did not let up and fighters on both sides joined the melee. Suddenly Archie felt a sting across his head. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. A barrage of strikes and kicks rained down on him as he lay sprawled on the grass and the two parties broke into a pitched battle until police on horses rounded them up.

'He shot a man,' called a voice.

A policeman steadied his mount and stood over Archie. 'Get him to the cells,' he barked.

Several Federationists dragged Archie away from the huddle.

'He needs a hospital.' It was a striker appealing to the police constable but he was ignored.

The policeman turned his attention to the wounded man who crouched on the ground clutching his stomach. 'Pete?'

The man looked up.

'What the...? 'Get some help here,' the policeman barked. 'Get this man to hospital.'

'Someone get Garrick and the committee,' shouted a striker.

As each side tried to recover their wounded a possie of police on foot appeared. Archie was ferreted away to the police cells whilst the shot man was transported to hospital. After an hour and a half Archie still had not regained consciousness and Garrick, Leonard and Buster pressed for Archie to be transferred to hospital, finally having their request granted.

'Mary needs to be told,' said Garrick.

'We'll go,' said Leonard.

'She's with Ian's wife. Tell her to get word to Ian and the Federation.'

Mary knew something was happening in town when the shots rang through the air. When the knocks on the front door came she knew right away it was bad news. Isabelle pushed her out the door promising to look after the children.

'Go.' Isabelle squeezed Mary's hand. 'Be there for him when he wakes up.'

* * *

Mary pushed through the throng outside the hospital where a dozen policemen milled around. There was no one she recognised from the union.

Inside were more police, lining the dim corridors and huddled around the doors to the ward. Her breath caught at the sight and she hesitated. The ward sister approached her.

'Who are you here to see?' she asked Mary

'Archie Wright.'

The sister huffed. 'He's unconscious. You'll have to wait.'

Mary glanced at the police. 'Can't I sit by his bed, sister?' she asked, directing the sister's gaze to the police.

'It's most irregular.'

'Please.'

The sister sighed heavily then led Mary through to the ward where Archie and his antagonists lay, more police hovering around them. They stared at Mary.

'It's over now, miss,' a policeman said to Mary. 'You may as well pack up your bags and leave.'

Mary trembled and walked slowly down the ward to get a chair. She cleared her throat and sat down, her back to the menace.

The sister addressed the police. 'You'll have to leave. These men need rest.'

There was a disturbance at the door and Garrick's voice boomed.

'The police led the charge. You can't deny it. Wait until the papers get hold of this.' There was a scuffle. 'Get your filthy hands off me. You knew he was there. You put him there to incite violence and you got it.'

The sister rushed out of the ward scooting the remaining police out of the room. 'Out, out. You can wait outside the building with the rest.'

Mary frowned. What were they talking about? She found Archie's hand under the covers and clasped it. He didn't stir. She studied his bandaged head and lacerated cheek. She willed him to flicker his eyes to tell her he knew she was there.

'Oh, Archie,' Mary whispered. A tear trickled down her cheek as she relived tender moments they'd shared and she subconsciously spun the rings on her finger.

She sat for hours and nobody came to get her or bring her a cup of tea. She was a pariah. She thought the nurses would have been more compassionate, professional. At least she could be with Archie, she was grateful for that. It was the longest time she'd ever sat and gazed at him. She wanted to trace his strong jaw with the back of her hand. She wanted to kiss away the rawness on his cheek so that when he opened his chocolate eyes he was perfect again.

Sometime in the late afternoon Mary was interrupted by a hand on her shoulder. She startled, surprised that she'd nodded off. She looked up to see a nurse.

'There's a lady here for you,' the nurse said in a broad Scots accent.

Mary followed her out of the ward, glancing at the scabs who lay in their beds as she passed.

Isabelle rushed at her friend, a gaggle of children clinging to her. Fanny and Thomas ran to Mary.

'Can we see daddy?' asked Fanny.

The women exchanged glances. 'He's not awake yet,' Mary explained, 'but if you're very quiet I'll take you in. She held a finger to her lips and took each of the children by the hand. 'Wait for us,' she said to Isabelle.

The children squeezed Mary's hands and looked all around as Mary led them to their father's bedside.

'Daddy's sleeping,' whispered Fanny. Thomas tried to climb on the bed but Fanny checked him. 'Don't, Thomas,' she said pulling him back down. 'Daddy's tired. He's sleeping,'

Presently Mary returned to Isabelle, who took her aside. 'Things have moved fast, Mary. There are mobs of Arbitrationists going about town telling families to leave and if they don't they'll blow up our houses or burn them to the ground.'

Mary clasped Isabelle's hand. 'To you? Have they been to you?'

Isabelle nodded and clutched the baby closer to her. 'They have.'

'They can't do it, Issy, they can't!'

'They're doing it, Mary.' She dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. 'The police led the attack on the hall. They planted a policeman to lead an attack. The whole thing was planned. And now the police are going around searching our houses and seizing whatever they can.'

'When's Ian coming home?'

'He'll be on tonight's train.'

Mary bit her lip. 'Issy, I must stay with Archie. Can you keep the children a bit longer?'

'Of course.'

'Surely it's not safe for you to go home alone?'

Isabelle forced a smile. 'It would be a sad day if a woman and five children couldn't walk home without being attacked.'

* * *

Mary went back to her vigil and when the ward sister tried to remove her she made such an impassioned plea to stay that the sister relented. As darkness fell Ian arrived. He rushed to Mary.

'How is he?'

Mary shrugged. 'I don't know. It just looks like he's sleeping.'

Ian peered at Archie. 'He's taken some fierce blow by the look of it.'

'Yes he did.' Mary clutched Ian's arm. 'They say Archie shot that man over there and that he's a policeman.'

'Did he?'

Mary wrung her hands. 'I don't know. Archie would never shoot a man. Although I know he was armed, but...' She frowned. 'I just don't know.'

Ian took a step towards the man with the stomach wound who was awake but groggy.

'Police!' Ian spat. 'If you think this is the end think again. It's just the beginning for you. You'll never get away with it.'

Mary shushed him. 'You'll get us thrown out.'

'Mary, you can't stay here all night.'

'I can't leave. I can't.'

'Have you eaten?'

She shook her head.

'There's nothing you can do by sitting here all night,' said Ian. He gently took her by the elbow. 'Let me take you home.'

Mary still resisted. 'The children are with Isabelle.'

'They can stay there. Come on,' he replied. 'I'll walk you home to your mother's. Come back tomorrow. You're no good to Archie if you can't stay awake.'

Suddenly the thought of sleep in her own bed was appealing.

'It's dangerous on the streets, Ian. It would be safer if I went on my own.'

'Nonsense. I'd not be doing my duty to Archie if I let you walk through town alone.'

Mary forced a smile then turned to Archie. She kissed him on his forehead.

A strong police presence remained outside the hospital but they let Mary and Ian pass without comment. As they neared the main road Mary saw people dashing past, most carrying bags or pushing a trolley.

'What's going on?'

'People are leaving,' Ian answered. 'They're heading for the train.'

As they crossed the road someone called out to Mary. 'Pack your bags, Mary. Come with us. They've won.' It was Bessie. She lugged two suitcases, stumbling as she tried to keep up with her husband and kids.

'What will we do, Ian?' asked Mary.

In the dark Mary couldn't see the worry on Ian's face but his voice betrayed his fears.

'You take care of Archie for now,' he said woodenly. 'I'll not be leaving.'

They slipped off the main street taking the back road, but there were still folk panicking to leave. Then a great explosion ripped through the air. A glow pierced into the night above the housing.

'Oh my God!' Ian yelled. 'The hall.'

Without pause they threaded back up onto the main street where a riotous commotion was in full swing. Jack was running away giving clasping Arbitrationist hands the slip.

'Jack!' Mary called. 'Jack!'

'Stay there,' Jack yelled. 'Don't come any closer. They're mad, the bastards. Threw gelignite at the hall.'

Mary threw her hands to her face. 'Oh no! Is anyone hurt?'

'Nah.'

Jack approached them, still in the shadows and watched the riot. It was a fever they'd got themselves into, fuelled by the riot. It gave them the courage to do what they'd always wanted.

Suddenly the sign on the hall demanding that William and his comrades be released was torn down and then a British ensign was hoisted to much cheering.

Ian tugged Mary's arm. 'Come on. Jack, go home. Don't leave your sister at night. Do you hear me?'

They arrived at Emily's without incident although Ian could see shadows at the far end of the street. He quickly saw Mary to the door then took a circuitous route home.

* * *

Emily rushed to greet Mary and embraced her. 'I've been so worried. Sam says there was a shooting. Where have you been?'

Mary threw herself into a chair while Percy and Sam joined their mother to hear Mary's news.

'Archie's in hospital with head wounds,' Mary explained. 'He took a knock. He's unconscious.' She buried her hands to her face. She wanted to cry but couldn't and sighed deeply.

'Sam,' said Emily. 'Please tell me you're not involved.'

Sam was incredulous. 'I'm here aren't I? I'm not out there threatening people.' He shook his head sadly. 'I told you, I only want to work. I haven't done anyone any harm. I haven't done anything wrong.'

Emily patted his hand.

'What about Jack?' asked Percy.

Mary hesitated. Percy would find out sooner or later what Jack's been up to. What right did she have to filter information to him. She forced a thin smile. 'Jack's fine.'

'Are there really so many people leaving?' It was Emily.

'I saw them,' Mary replied.

'Jack wouldn't leave without his dad,' said Percy. 'Did you see him, Mary? He could be in trouble. Could I go and get him? And Errol and Catherine. They'd be safe here.'

Emily bristled. 'Absolutely not! Have you been listening to your sister? It's dangerous on the streets.'

'But, ma.'

'No one is leaving this house tonight. We'll see tomorrow. Sam can go with you.'

Emily set a cup of tea in front of Mary. 'I think it's time you gave this up,' she said.

'What do you mean?'

'I've seen my family torn apart by this strike. And by you,' she added.

Mary gasped. 'Is that what you think? That this is my fault! How can you say that? What about Sam?'

'What about me?'

'You started it,' Mary snapped. 'Going out on your own. You started it.'

'Stop it!' Emily cried. 'I'll have none of that in my house. This family will be united from now on. Do you understand?'

Mary chewed the inside of her cheek before carefully choosing her words. 'You're asking me to choose a life of unprincipled peace over the man I love.' She slowly shook her head. 'How can I simply change sides just to stay out of harm's way? Do you think I'm playing a game just because it's Archie's way? No! I cannot do as you ask. I love Archie. We are in this struggle together. I will be at his side until the end.' She held up her ring finger to emphasise the point.

Emily huffed. She wished Gerald was here. She let Mary go to bed then sat alone in the dark wondering what to do.

The next morning Percy left the house before anyone got up so Sam accompanied Mary to the hospital before he started work. A few people were out and about. Even Dardar was on his seat.

'Is Rose with Clara, Dardar?' Mary asked.

'As far as I know,' he grumbled. 'Didn't come home last night.'

'If you see her, tell her I'm at the hospital,'

Sam dragged Mary's arm. 'Come on, sis. I have to go to work.'

Police still milled around the hospital. Mary braced herself to walk through the throng while Sam peeled off to go to the mine.

A fierce antiseptic smell hit her as she walked in. She wondered if it was as strong yesterday or she was too preoccupied to notice. The same ward sister was on duty, her demeanour softer than yesterday.

'No change today,' she said simply.

Mary took her place by Archie's side and kissed his cheek. Did he appear paler? Was his breath more shallow? What did she know about any of those things? Mary placed her hand on Archie's and waited.

The minutes ticked by, her mind filled but not filled, thoughts banished to tomorrow. Minutes turned into hours and although there was activity around the shooting victims, Mary was only disturbed by the occasional staccato breath of Archie.

Suddenly Archie appeared to gasp and then there was nothing. Mary let out a little scream and shook him, panic rising in her gut. 'Archie!'

There was no response.

'Sister!' Mary cried. 'Quick, sister.'

The woman rushed to Mary's side and shut Archie's eyelids.

'No!' Mary moaned. 'No, no, no.'

The sister put an arm around Mary's shoulders, but Mary threw herself on Archie, screaming. 'Archie, no, no.'

'Come on, dear,' said the sister.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Mary shrugged the woman away. 'Leave me.'

The sister sat Mary down. 'Shush now. I'll give you a few minutes. Is there a next of kin?'

Mary nodded. 'Joe. Joe Wright.'

By the time the sister returned word had got around that Archie had died. Joe and Ian arrived at the hospital at the same time. An uneasy peace settled between them. Mary had quietened to silent sobbing, her whole body wracked with involuntary bursts. Through her haze she heard Ian and Joe discuss what should happen to Archie. When Ian suggested Archie would be seen as a martyr Joe agreed his brother could be buried in Auckland, all expenses borne by the Federation of Labour.

Ian helped Mary out of the hospital past the now silent crowd of police. 'Pack your bags, Mary. We'll all leave tomorrow morning with Archie. Joe will take you home.'

'We'll all leave? Where will we go?' she asked.

Ian frowned. He knew she meant who would she stay with but he had no idea and he didn't want to add to her worries. 'Auckland,' he answered.

### Chapter Twenty Eight

Garrick collected Mary before dawn. She left a note on the table for her mother telling her not to worry; she'd be home soon. As they rode up the main street shop owners had got up early to watch who was leaving. Some hurled insults. At the corner to Jack's road Mary called Garrick to stop. She climbed out of the cart.

'Wait here,' she yelled, already hitching her skirt and running up the hill. She tore through the gate. Everything was still, the air punctuated with only the distant sounds of wagons in the main street. She ran to the front door and knocked but there was no response. As she started to go around the side of the house a ladder dropped out of the tree.

'Wait,' called Jack.

He climbed down.

'Jack! Are you all right? Where's your brother and sister?'

Jack called them down and Mary explained they had to leave. She gave them ten minutes to pack.

'How long have you been hiding in that tree?' asked Mary.

'Only two days,' said Catherine. 'It was fun the first night, but not so much fun the second night. I'm glad you came.'

Mary smiled. 'Percy was worried about you,' she said and took the little girl's hand.

At the station other Federationists waited. Isabelle and Clara stood with Ian, five children between them and piles of suitcases. Clara fished a white handkerchief from her purse and handed it to Mary. Trust Clara to notice Mary's red eyes, puffy from a night of sobbing into her pillow. Mary took it without thanks. Clara had always dreamed of living in the city but not like this; not without her beloved treasures, her husband still in gaol. Perhaps, of them all, Clara would not return to Waihi. Rose and Meg rushed to Mary.

'I'm so sorry, Mary,' they said in unison, both embracing her.

Then the tears flowed again. She was all right all morning. Too busy for more tears. She wondered how she still had so many. She dabbed at her face with Clara's handkerchief.

'Is Archie on board?' Mary asked.

Ian nodded.

Suddenly Mary remembered the children. 'Fanny! Thomas! Where are they?'

'With Joe and Sybil,' Isabelle replied.

Mary shook her head. 'Archie wouldn't want that,' she said.

'It's just for now,' said Isabelle.

'I want Fanny and Thomas to farewell their father.' Mary gripped Ian's arm. 'Please.'

A whistle sounded and then there was a call to board. Garrick helped Mary with her suitcases and she climbed aboard but would not settle. She leaped from her seat and ran down the aisle.

'Mary!' called Rose. 'What are you doing?'

The conductor headed Mary off. 'I need to see Archie,' Mary cried. 'I mean, his coffin. Are you sure it's aboard?'

The man was taken aback but kindly. 'If you'll follow me, miss,' he said. He led her through to the last carriage. It was empty but for Archie's coffin. Mary smiled weakly to the man. 'Thank you.'

The ride to Auckland was sombre. Mary sat wringing her hands and let everyone else's lives whirl around her. It felt like hers had stopped.

* * *

Jim Campbell and Ernie Hardcastle had been busy. They had notified the Auckland unions of Archie's arrival and by the time the train drew into the station the numbers to meet it had swelled to the hundreds.

Mary surveyed the platform and heaved a sigh. Rose clutched Mary's hand and smiled tightly. 'You can do this, Mary. You have to. For Archie.'

Mary found herself swept into the melee but again it was Garrick who smoothed the way for her. Suddenly she didn't have to think what to do. Former Waihi strikers had turned out in large numbers. They immediately welcomed their friends, gathered up their suitcases and ferried them away.

Jim greeted Mary. 'I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Bell. There is an automobile hearse waiting.'

She glanced along the platform to where some men were lifting Archie's coffin onto their shoulders.

'The hearse will move slowly through the city before taking the body to the morgue and then there's to be a meeting at the Grey Hotel.'

Mary nodded.

'Mary.' It was Clara. 'Come with me. Please.'

Garrick led Mary to a waiting group of friends. 'The girls will look after you now,' he said. 'I'll come and find you tomorrow.'

Mary watched the hearse move off flanked by at least two hundred people. Garrick joined the procession and marched along Queen Street to the corner of Wellesley Street drawing a great deal of attention as they passed shoppers. Everyone observing stopped and raised their hats as Archie's body was transported through the street.

As the hearse reached the hill it increased speed and left the procession behind. A number of men walked straight to the hotel. Ernie called for quiet. 'Thank you for turning out today. It's a dark day for New Zealand industrial relations. You have witnessed history, for never before in this country has a man had to pay with his life for the chance to better his working conditions.

The Federation of Labour fully support our brothers in Waihi who remain loyal to the cause. Every man, woman and child, whether in exile or not, shall not have the worry of money. Strike pay will continue.'

A soft murmur rippled through the bar.

Jim continued. 'On the matter of events that have occurred at Waihi, the Federation will not remain silent. We will ask the government why, when a town with a population of only five thousand, could one tenth of the entire country's police force not keep the peace. We know that Massey brought them in to back the scabs. We witnessed police brutality. They had a mandate to incite peaceful picketers to violence and they got it. Questions will be asked as to why police in civilian clothes were allowed to side with the scabs in storming that hall.

'Archie Wright is a martyr!' Jim waved a fist in the air. 'Show the government that we remain solid. Be at Archie's funeral. Don't let Archie Wright's death go unnoticed.'

* * *

Jack held his sister's hand as he and Errol waited outside the prison gates with a mob of Federationists. All sixty three incarcerated strikers were released on sureties to keep the peace.

The gaoler heaved the gate open and the men followed William out. A cheer went up and families reunited. Wives commented on how skinny and worn their men looked. Jack, Errol and Catherine ran to their father.

William immediately took control, noting some of the strike committee and strikers in the crowd.

'Thank you for the welcome, good people of Waihi. I want you to know that all strikers and their families who are in need of assistance, monetary or otherwise, may apply to the strike committee which is now set up in Auckland. If you have family or friends wishing to leave Waihi tickets can be obtained from Auckland, Thames or the intermediate stations on application to the stationmaster at Waihi. The Federation has put up a substantial sum to enable this to happen. No stone is being left unturned by the organisation to marshal our forces in Auckland.'

'William!' It was Ian pushing through the assembly. The two men shook hands. 'Can I have a word?' He turned to address the families.

'Ernie Hardcastle is giving an address tomorrow evening on the recent occurrences at Waihi. I urge you to attend. I can tell you now however, that he stated yesterday to the press that most of our wives and children have made it out and that the Federation is committed to seeing justice done for those who have been outlawed from this country and belted out of our homes. The Federation will make it clear to the Dominion that the treatment meted out to us is an outrage on modern civilisation. But for all those injustices we will not be crushed. The strikers remain strong and the company, who now have only thirty trained miners in a potential workforce of seven hundred, are hopelessly defeated.'

There was little comment from the crowd as families reunited outside the prison walls.

William was dragged away to the train by the children but he was soon assailed by the strike committee.

'It's good to see you, Will,' said Garrick. 'Can anything be done for Mary? She's not entitled to any money. She was to marry Archie. But, well, she's in a bind now.'

William screwed his face up. 'Where is she?'

'Staying with a family in Parnell. Most of us are. Single people I mean.'

'We owe her something,' William agreed. 'I'll work on it.'

* * *

Mary sat in the parlour of the cottage chewing the end of her pen as she tried to think of what to say to her mother. The black skirt and blouse she wore were stiff; she hadn't worn or washed them enough yet to soften the dressing in the fabric. They brought back memories of her father's funeral, and her father. She hated them for it.

A stiff breeze hammered at the windows. She glanced outside. The day was bright, blue and fresh. Funny, she couldn't remember Waihi ever being like this.

She could hear activity in the other rooms. An ex-Waihi family had taken her in and Annabelle had instructed the children not to disturb Miss Bell, with her being in mourning. But she wouldn't mind being disturbed; perhaps it would take her mind off Archie. She doubted it.

What was her mother going through? Her only daughter exiled. For that's what Mary decided she was. It felt hollow. Shouldn't a fighter for a worthwhile cause be almost triumphant in exile?

Mary paced the room. She still couldn't eat; hadn't eaten properly since the incident. She refused to refer to it as a shooting. It wasn't proved that Archie had shot anyone and she steadfastly refused to believe that he had.

Finally she dipped her pen in the ink and tried again.

Dearest mother,

I'm sorry for the way things have turned out. It could never have been anticipated. Events escalated very quickly, as I'm sure you are aware.

You mustn't worry about me. I'm staying with a Waihi family in Parnell for a short time.

Archie's funeral is tomorrow. It cannot come soon enough. I am lost without him.

As she wrote these words tears fell and trailed the ink on the letter. Sobbing, she put down her pen and walked away from the desk. She walked to the window and stared out, not seeing the irises bending to the breeze or the leaves gently fluttering from the silk tree.

Mary's thoughts were of Archie; she recalled their first kiss, then every sweet kiss they'd shared. And his embraces; oh how he made her hot with desire. She wondered if he knew what his touch did to her. She clutched her arms around her, almost as though it was Archie holding her. Oh, why, why didn't they share each other? Now she'd never have what was most special. How she wished she'd given herself to him, and now she never would. He'd made her so happy.

'Archie,' she murmured. 'Archie.'

She let the tears fall as she collapsed into an armchair feeling more alone than ever.

* * *

Sybil elbowed Mary aside as she vied for the front row of the funeral procession. Joe gently took Sybil's arm.

'Come on, love,' he whispered. 'You've had your say. Think what the girl's going through.'

Sybil sniffed and touched her hand to her broad-brimmed black hat bought especially for the occasion. Her look bore through Mary as Fanny and Thomas held Mary's hands.

Joe and Sybil had arrived on the early train for this afternoon's funeral. Whilst the company had passed on their condolences to Joe it was happy that Joe would be the only company representative. It left a sour taste in Joe's mouth.

Sybil had attacked Mary straight away claiming that Mary had denied Archie the chance to find a suitable girl; one that would have had such a hold over him that he wouldn't have dreamed of staying out all hours armed for battle. And what did Emily think of her shananigans? It was disgusting unwomanly behaviour. She should be ashamed of herself, bring their sex into disrepute. Joe was horrified at the nonsense his wife berated on Mary but Mary let Sybil's hollow words wash over her. She spun Archie's rings on her finger and simply turned her back on Sybil, which outraged the woman even more.

Sybil couldn't hurt Mary now. In the last few days her emotions had been out of control. All she could do was think of Archie; relive every minute they'd shared. There was so much unsaid. But at least deep in her heart she knew he loved her as much as she him.

Garrick was a brick. Nothing was too much trouble. Mary only had to hint at something or other and Garrick quietly and efficiently went about fixing things for her. It was Garrick Mary turned to when she made the decision about the locket. Archie must have it, of course. She had his rings. He must keep the locket. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she handed Garrick the locket and asked him to see that Archie had it with him.

William was kind. He offered her a place as his house keeper for as long as they stayed in Auckland. Unfortunately the pay would be little more than nothing since he was surviving on strike pay.

The funeral service took place in front of the watersiders' offices in downtown Auckland. The girls escorted Mary to the front pews, ahead of a great sea of black-donned mourners. Mary was pleased for Archie. He wouldn't mind that half of them didn't know him personally, but they'd been touched by his message. It was never going to be a straight forward Methodist service. Many refugee strikers spoke at great length of their admiration for Archie who was revered as a political martyr. The full Federation of Labour executive attended and the Waihi Trade Union of Workers strike committee carried Archie's wreath-covered coffin to the motor hearse.

Mary led the children to the back of the hearse. She hefted Thomas up.

'Bye bye, daddy,' the boy said.

Mary couldn't hold back her tears after that and she felt an arm around her shoulder. It was Joe.

'We all loved him, lass,' he said. 'I'll miss my little brother.'

Mary could only nod.

Then the motor hearse crawled away followed by Mary and three thousand mourners. Not a word was spoken as they marched all the way to Waikaraka cemetery where Mary laid Archie to rest.

* * *

Leonard and Buster remained in Waihi not convinced that things had got bad enough to force them to leave. Besides, they were pretty handy with their fists and weren't altogether unhappy at the prospect of dealing to a few scabs.

If the tactics of following up by the striking miners struck fear into the hearts of residents they should have been terrified at the turn of events. Remaining Federationists were virtually held in a state of siege. The Miners' Union Hall had been taken over by the Arbitrationists who at one meeting read out a list of seventy six Federationist names for targeting, Leonard and Buster included. Those on the list should be hounded out of Waihi at any cost they said.

To that end the Arbitrationists formed mobs and gave the Federationists forty eight hours to leave or they would blow up their houses or burn them down. Three hundred left by train the following day. Leonard and Buster did not return home, but nor did they leave town. They wouldn't until the last Federationist did.

The police were complicit in the mob's actions, as they were before. As with Archie, they allowed a Federationist to receive a beating to within an inch of his life, actually forming a ring with their horses, before stopping it and escorting the poor man home.

Sadly, the scabs turned their attention to the children of the Federationists. Many children reported being set upon by mobs who belted them black and blue about the legs. The Federationists naturally withdrew their children from school which encouraged Sybil and her ilk to send theirs back.

Remaining Federationists began to go hungry as shop keepers refused credit and the scarlet runner network collapsed. Leonard managed to get a telegram to William about the dire situation who then used the information in his speeches. Very quickly mass meetings were held in Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch where demands were made for an inquiry into the lawless law and order which took place over the last week. There was indignation over the partisan tactics of the police and calls for the arrests of those responsible for the attacks on the Miners' Union Hall and its defenders. The meetings expressed sympathy with the strikers and their families who were rendered homeless and heartfelt condolences were sent to the family of Archie Wright.

Further, the meeting denounced the Massey appointed coroner in being able to deliver any verdict other than a farcical one.

The Maoriland Worker was quick to ask thought provoking questions: how did the constable club Wright? Did he do it before being shot? How came the constable in the front rank of those who raided the hall and was he in plain clothes? If the strikers were not allowed to congregate in the streets, how come the scabs were allowed, particularly where they would irritate the strikers and why were the police not there in force? Why, when such large numbers of strikers were gaoled and extra police were on the scene, could the police not control the situation?

For William the fight was not over. He sent a telegram to Waihi urging the remaining Federationists not to seek work. Leonard and Buster were urged to keep the faith, stay solid and report on Waihi happenings for their exiled colleagues. Their detailed reports should expose the police terrorism for the dastardly outrage on liberties it is and the fact rammed home.

It was back to business for Joe, and Sybil managed to put the events of the past few months behind her. It helped to have the Citizens' Ball at the Academy Theatre to look forward to. Of course, she'd have a new dress; her husband wasn't without special status. And then at the end of the month there was to be a Police Ball for the brave men who were on duty during the strike. Mary was sickened. How brave was a constable in plain clothes to lead a charge against men lawfully occupying their own property, backed up by his own uniformed constabulary? The so called police bravery was yet another farce that went not understood by the country at large.

It was natural that Joe would take in Archie's children. Luckily they were too young to understand what a mistake Archie had made and they grieved for their father. Upon seeing Mary at their father's funeral Fanny hoped it might be an option to stay with Mary, but was torn at the thought of being separated from her beloved cousins.

Mary grudgingly let the children slip from her. They'd come to no harm. She hoped Sybil would let her see them soon.

As the town regained its full workforce the strike was not called off.

### Epilogue 1914

Mary gazed outside to the playing fields which were framed by a border of spring flowers. A piano sonata washed over the sparsely furnished room and Iris sang accompaniment. A bell sounded and the girl looked questioningly at Mary.

'You may finish now, girls,' she said. 'It's coming along nicely.'

'Thank you, miss,' said Cynthia.

Mary took her time packing her notes before heading to her rooms at the far side of the college. The late sun was warm on her back and the trees were again in leaf. The change of seasons forced her to think of home. Mrs. Pearson's garden would be a blaze of spring colour. And that made her think of Archie: the flowers he'd picked for her, his smile beneath his brush moustache and the twinkle of delight in his chocolate eyes as she took them from him.

The weeks after the incident had been a whirlwind of political meetings. She and Isabelle spoke at some of them. The strike was never called off but the levies dried up pretty quickly. Many of the men who fled Waihi found work on the Huntly coal fields or on the docks in Auckland.

Mary hardly ever saw the girls anymore, except for Clara. Clara kept her up to date with the comings and goings of the strike committee and the union until she felt like she was merely an observer, never been a part of it. For the girls, they all had their husbands – even Rose and Meg, to keep the fight within them alive. But without Archie, there came a point when she'd had enough, and she let that slip from her too.

Mary had stayed with William for as long as it took to secure a teaching job in a girls' boarding school. It was Mary's dream and it was incredible to her that all the events that went before had led her to this. But she missed Archie with an aching heart. She still wore his rings. Every Sunday she put flowers on his grave.

Emily wrote often and visited, usually accompanied by Nell. Emily and Nell kept company a lot now, sharing a meal in each other's houses every week, just as they did during their Temperance Union days. They remembered Gerald fondly, each giving the other strength in their grief for him. Mary studied the two women intently wondering if Emily knew but she wouldn't interfere. They were all women grieving. There was no claim to grief by virtue of being married.

Percy was studying mine management at the Thames School of Mines and was in line for a scholarship at Auckland University College which this year had started a geology department. Mary hoped he would take it up: if this Great War didn't take him away. She missed Percy.

She picked a daffodil and threaded it through her buttonhole as she walked by. She sighed. Perhaps this time next year Waihi will have forgotten its troubles and she could go home.

### Other Books by Lily Ennis

Women's Fiction

 Fire in the Mountain

Seaton's War

Adventure Fantasy

 EarthFlight One: A Dragon's Adventure

EarthFlight Two: Dragon's Quest

