Chapter Twelve

In the event, Mr Thornton didn't come up with any grand plans to win Carrie back because he knew her well enough to realise that schemes wouldn't work. The only way she would learn to trust him was if she spent time with him again so that he could show her that he really was trustworthy.

Of course, that was the easy part. The hard part was convincing her to spend time with him at all!

Instead he had decided to put a recent idea into action.

For many weeks now, Carrie's words, 'be the change you want to see' had been on his mind and he had come up with a somewhat hair brained scheme. He had thought it through from many angles and found it to be a very flawed plan indeed, nevertheless it kept plaguing him and finally he had decided to act.

As he made his way through Milton's slums, the conditions came as a shock to him. They shouldn't of course, for he had been here before and yet time somehow always seemed to dim the horror until he was directly confronted with it again.

He walked up to Nicholas Higgins door and knocked swiftly. Higgins looked surprised to see a Milton master at his door, probably more so since he had never worked for Thornton, but never the less he stepped back and invited him in.

Mr Thornton smiled slightly for though they were considered enemies, northern hospitality still prevailed.

"I must say I'm surprised by your visit," Nicholas said as they seated themselves at the table.

"Probably no more than I am by making it," Mr Thornton answered. "I have questioned myself constantly on why it is I wish to speak with you but I can find no reasonable answers, other than the fact that the current working conditions, the animosity between workers and masters cannot continue."

"So you've come here to make peace?" Nicholas managed to sound both surprised and affronted. "Forgive me, master, but I thought you masters had already got your way."

"The workers have returned, that is true, but the bad feeling remains."

"And how do you propose to end it?" Nicholas asked.

"I have no firm answers for you," Mr Thornton answered honestly. "I have a few ideas but I was hoping that between us we might be able to come up with some kind of workable plan."

"All the while you masters keep cutting pay and expecting us to lump it, there will never be peace between us. Prices rise almost daily and even reasonable sized families have trouble managing. Those with large families, widows and widowers and those with ill relatives would starve were it not for the kindness of their neighbours, who can ill afford charity themselves."

"I did not come here for a sermon," Mr Thornton said, though he tried every hard not to sound angry. "You make it sound like we enjoy cutting wages."

"Don't you? We don't see you taking a pay cut, you still keep your fancy houses and your fancy clothes and your-"

"You shouldn't judge a book by it's cover," Mr Thornton snapped. "While it is true that some masters do live in luxury others, such as myself, merely have to keep up appearances. My fine clothes are none younger than three years old and have been expertly darned many times by my mother. The only indulgence I have had since the market hit hard times has been the money I spend on my sister, though thankfully even she will be someone else's responsibility soon."

Higgins was inclined to snort and roll his eyes but something in Mr Thornton's tone made him believe that the man spoke the truth.

"If times really are that hard, why retain the maids in your home?"

"I have considered firing some but like the workers in the mill, they have families to feed also. Which one should I fire? Jane, who's wages get drunk away by her new husband? Or Sarah, who lives with her widowed mother and supports her brothers and sisters. Or cook perhaps, who's husband still cannot find employment after the strike and who's children are all too young to work."

"Aye," Higgins conceded. "I see your point."

"And I see yours," Mr Thornton agreed. "Believe me, I take no pride in my hands having to live somewhere like this."

"So what's to do?" Higgins asked.

"That's why I'm here," Mr Thornton said. "I'm hoping between us we can find some solutions, ways to ease troubles for both workers and masters."

"Masters? You mean the others have agreed to this meeting?"

"No," Mr Thornton gave a wry smile. "But I am hoping that if we are successful, they might follow my lead."

Higgins nodded and considered Thornton for a while before speaking again.

"Right. Well the way I see it, the biggest problem facing people is food."

Over the next two hours they thrashed out a plan. Higgins agreed to work at Marlborough Mill, on the assurance that he would give Mr Thornton fair warning if he found anything wrong, and on the understanding that he would be a kind of go between for the master and the hands.

The first practical step they had decided on was to try and open a canteen in the factory, so that food could be purchased wholesale and bought by the workers for a fraction of the cost, ensuring all workers had at least one good meal a day. Higgins had agreed to work out the costings and as they talked, Mr Thornton was somewhat surprised to realise what a keen mind Higgins had. He would have made a fair businessman if he'd had the education or opportunity.

Though the workers were initially distrustful of the scheme, a week later the canteen opened and the workers quickly began to realise the bargain price of the meals on offer. Higgins daughter, Mary, prepared the food and made fresh bread every day. Before the week was out some workers began asking if they might buy more than one meal and take the food home with them. Neither Mr Thornton nor Higgins could see any problem with that and in the third week, Mary found herself the boss of the kitchen, since she now had two young girls helping her each day.

The next issue that Higgins wanted to address was sick pay.

Mr Thornton was initially very distrustful, assuming that Higgins wanted him to pay workers who couldn't work, but Higgins had already thought this through and had a very different scheme in mind.

Those who were willing would pay a small amount into a sick fund every week. Those who were taken ill and who had paid into the fund would receive a wage for up to twelve days out of every two years.

"And what if they have not taken their sick days?" Mr Thornton asked, "Is there not a danger that people will abuse it and take time off when they are not really ill?"

"The sick wage is lower than the normal wage so not many would, but if anyone does abuse the system, they're out," Higgins explained.

"And who would administer this?"

"Well me to start, with help from a couple of t'lads."

"Well, if it's my permission you're after, you have it."

"Thank you, Master, but as nice as that is, we do need your help?"

"If you are organising this amongst yourselves, I hardly see what use I could be. Indeed some workers would likely distrust the scheme if I were directly involved."

"You're not wrong on that score, Master, but the thing is we need a bank account," Higgins answered. "As much faith as I have in my fellow man, there's very few of us that is above temptation under the right circumstances."

"And you don't think the bank would look very favourably on you wanting to open an account."

"Exactly. Some liberal thinking gentlemen help the unions open their accounts and I was hoping you'd do the same for us."

Mr Thornton nodded, stood up and held his hand out to Higgins.

"I will speak with Mr Latimer tomorrow. I am sure he will be amenable."

"Thank you, Master." Higgins shook his hand and then returned to work.

III

When news of Watson's speculation reached Carrie, she found herself with something of a quandary. She knew that Mr Thornton would not invest, and she also knew that as a result he would lose his mill.

Of course in the book, that was the reason that he and Margaret finally admitted their love for each other, when she was able to ride to his rescue. Here though even if they had been in love that was impossible, for Mr Hale was still alive and Mr Bell had not made Margaret his heir, so as such she had no money to invest in his mill.

In the book she knew the speculation succeeded but here, since so many things had changed, there was no saying that the result of this speculation might not be different also. Should she try to convince Mr Thornton to invest, or should she leave well enough alone? It took her many sleepless nights wrestling with the possibilities before she finally came to a decision.

III

For once Mr Thornton found himself listening to his sister's mindless chatter, though only because it was preferable to thinking of other matters, like how to break it to his workers that he had to close the mill. He did not much like the idea but he had few options left and if he continued running the mill, he would go into serious debt. It was better to close while he could still pay his workers rather than see them starve. His good reputation would also help him to find a position at another mill.

It was a double tragedy really, since the measures he and Higgins had put into place were making a real difference to the workers lives. To have to give that up now was not only a shame, the other masters would see it as the reason for the mill's failure and be even more set against implementing such measures themselves.

He constantly questioned himself over his decision not to join in with Watson's speculation but he could not fault his desire to protect his workers wages, for if he had lost money they too would have suffered for his gamble.

If only those who owed him money would pay up, then he might be able to stay open for another month or two, and there was always the slim possibility of a miracle in that time. Alas, the bank refused to increase his loan and the buyers grew slower and slower at paying their bills. The gap between the two was growing forever wider and Mr Thornton couldn't blame the bank for wanting to limit it's losses. Between his personal finances, the sale of his machinery and the outstanding monies owed to him, he would be able to clear that loan but it would leave him with little extra.

Though they would not be reduced to living in the slums, the next few years would be very hard on him and his mother. He knew she could handle it for she was a strong woman and had already coped with everything life had thrown at her, but still he desperately wished she did not have to cope. He and his mother were not openly affectionate but the bond between them was unbreakable and more than anything he wanted to repay her for her faith in him over the years. Without her drive and belief in him over the years, he would likely still be working as a shop boy.

Wanting to put off the inevitable for as long as possible he continued to listen to Fanny chatter about the latest gossip and how she was redecorating her rooms in Watson's home. Though she had been less than sympathetic about his refusal to participate in Watson's speculation, he couldn't find it in his heart to be angry with her. She was family and even when you had no possessions in the world, you still had a family. Though she was superficial and flighty, he knew that she loved him and their mother.

When she finally took her leave of them, John kissed her cheek and smiled at her.

"I am glad that you are happy with Watson," he said, meaning every word, for to see her suffer from the loss of the mill would be more than he could bear. Fanny did not have the strength of their mother and this time she would be old enough to feel the shame of their misfortune. He was sure such hardship would crush her.

Fanny looked surprised at his kiss and smiled uneasily, for her brother was not given to displays of affection.

Once she had left, he returned to his office, his shoulders more sloped than usual as he crossed the yard, as though he was carrying the weight of the world on them. He considered calling Higgins into his office now to tell him but he wasn't quite ready to face the disappointment he would see in the other man's eyes. Higgins needed this job more than most, for unlike most of the workers, the other mills wouldn't hire him because of his association with the union.

Instead, Mr Thornton picked up his post and began opening it.

He missed working with Carrie, for she handled his office with such efficiency that he now felt slightly lost without her. Everything still got done of course, and he still used the systems she had put in place but it took longer without her help and if he was honest, just watching her work had a calming influence on him. She was like a soothing balm and nothing was ever quite so bad as it should be while she was around.

He missed her, now more than ever. Of course even if they were still on speaking terms, she would likely want nothing to do with him now that the mill had failed. Now that he had failed. He gave a weary sigh and reached for the next envelope, surprised to note that it was in her handwriting. He forgot about the rest of his mail for the moment and sat back to read her letter.

Dear Mr Thornton,

I know about the difficulties your mill is facing as a result of the fallout from the strike and how difficult the markets are at the moment. I also know that soon you will have little option but to close the mill and sack your workers.

Mr Watson recently offered you a speculation which I am sure you considered as a possibility to solve your financial problems. As you will no doubt be aware by now, the venture was successful.

I knew that you would not invest though, not only because of your family history but also because you are far too principled to risk harming others with such an uncertain venture.

I also know of the good you have been doing for the workers, since Mr Higgins is often telling Mr Hale of the wondrous schemes you and he are implementing. It is to your credit that you are actively seeking to better the lives of your workers and as such it is a very bitter pill to swallow that just when you are finally achieving some real good, you will be forced to close your doors.

As such, I took the liberty of investing on your behalf.

Please rest assured that I have the initial stake I invested back in full and that I have also made a healthy profit from my own investment.

Enclosed is a bankers draft for your share of the profit. I hope this will be enough to keep your mill running and I wish you every luck in the future.

Yours sincerely,

Carrie Preston

He looked at the enclosed bankers draft and was so shocked by the amount that he had to look a second time to be sure. This was no small gesture, this was a substantial amount of money, one that would solve all his financial difficulties.

What did this mean though? Was she reaching out to him, trying to make amends? Or was she doing this to salve her conscience?

If he had to guess, he would say the latter but if he was right and she was feeling guilty, perhaps that meant that she knew that she had been making excuses not to be with him. More to the point, perhaps it meant that he still had a chance.