Home Fires Read online

  Copyright © 2015 Susan Johnson Cameron

  Published by Iguana Books

  720 Bathurst Street, Suite 303

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  M5V 2R4

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise (except brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of the author or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.

  Publisher: Greg Ioannou

  Editor: Jess Shulman

  Cover design: Jess Sheridan

  Interior design: Caitlin Stewart

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Cameron, Susan Johnson, 1949-, author

  Home fires / Susan Johnson Cameron.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-77180-154-6 (bound).--ISBN 978-1-77180-146-1 (paperback).--

  ISBN 978-1-77180-147-8 (epub).--ISBN 978-1-77180-148-5 (kindle).--

  ISBN 978-1-77180-149-2 (pdf)

  I. Title.

  PS8605.A484H64 2015 C813’.6 C2015-906269-1

  C2015-906270-5

  This is the original electronic edition of Home Fires.

  This story is dedicated to the Johnson clan – past, present and future. You are my sunshine.

  Dense clouds of smoke and debris whirled past Annie’s tiny kitchen window. She jumped at the deafening boom of an explosion somewhere in the forest beyond. Fingers of fear snaked up her back as she watched flames pounce frantically from tree to tree. A sudden gunshot blast of boiling sap launched chunks of burning bark into the sky. The flying sparks hit the surrounding tinder-dry field. It ignited in an instant.

  “The field! God help us!” She grabbed the baby from the cradle and turned to the others. “Run to the tracks!”

  Tightly clasping her wailing infant, she snatched a biscuit tin – her few precious family photos and meagre savings – from a high shelf and ran for the door behind her panicked, crying sons.

  Hot cinders rained down, pricking her arms. She pulled the baby’s blanket tightly around his face. Her eldest son hoisted up his screaming two-year-old brother and bolted down the well-worn path towards the railroad tracks. The other two boys sprinted after him, bawling loudly. Annie was close behind, her lungs burning. The half-mile to the railway seemed insurmountable. Finally they reached the water-filled trench beside the tracks. Annie ordered the children to jump in and clumsily followed them. Her voice was hoarse; she was desperately thirsty. She brought a handful of gritty ditch water to her face and drank. Panting, Annie clutched the terrified children tightly against her. The family watched helplessly as a wall of fire galloped towards their home. In minutes, the house was completely engulfed. Her vision blurred with tears.

  “It’s gone!” She grabbed her middle son by the shoulder to steady herself. “Our house is gone.”

  A gust of hot wind brushed across her face. The powerful stench of burnt flesh hit her suddenly and she gagged. She covered her nose and mouth, and the baby’s head, with her water-drenched apron. All around her were frantic voices calling for help.

  Was that a train she heard in the distance, whistling over the roar of the flame? Or was she was hallucinating in the last minutes of her life?

  PART ONE

  Chapter One

  Cardiff, Wales

  1890

  Annie heard a scuffle behind her, followed by a child’s wail. She turned and saw her little brother Georgie running towards her, tears streaming down his face. The six-year old nearly knocked her over as he flung his arms around her waist.

  She had considered leaving without her three younger brothers after they left her waiting fifteen minutes by the school’s iron fence, but that earlier irritation was quickly forgotten as she knelt down to inspect Georgie’s skinned knee and elbow. She brushed away his tears. Hearing angry, shouted expletives, she looked past her brother to where some boys were fighting.

  “You dirty bastards,” someone yelled. Annie realized it was her brother, Alfie. He and her brother James stood at the corner of the red-brick building, holding their fists up in fighter stance, ready to defend themselves against the three bullying Jones brothers. “Why would you knock down a little boy?”

  “Ah, the little shit was just in my way. I was aimin’ for you! Think you’re so great, yous don’t even have a Pa, do ya?” taunted the biggest of the Jones boys.

  “Do so!” shouted Alfie. “You take that back!”

  “He must be invisible then!”

  Annie shouted, “Stop fighting this instant or I’ll report all of you to Mr. Morgan!” It was an inconsequential threat, but the boys stopped and looked at her.

  “Aw, Annie, we was just playin,” said one of the Jones brothers. “No harm done.”

  Annie glared at him. The eldest boy had greasy, brown hair and a face covered in pimples. She felt her own face grow hot with anger and impulsively shouted the coarsest Norwegian curse words she could think of. Her insults bounced harmlessly off the bullies; they didn’t understand the language. But the Larsen boys did. They gaped at their sister with eyes wide, shocked.

  I should have told them off in Welsh, she thought, kicking herself. My brothers wouldn’t have understood, and the Joneses sure would have.

  She could feel the bullies watching her. She felt conspicuous with her new blue satin ribbons in her braids and her clean, pressed indigo dress. She glared at the oldest boy as he wiped his nose on his filthy sleeve and gave one his brothers a malicious whack on the head. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Annie turned her attention again to her youngest brother, who was still sniffling. “Don’t cry, Georgie. We’ll clean you up.” The other two had escaped without injury, but they were filthy.

  “I need to get you boys washed up before Mamma sees you. Thank goodness you didn’t tear your good school clothes!”

  They stopped at a creek near the school playground and Annie used her petticoat to wipe away most of the boys’ dirt and grime. On their way home the cobbled street was crowded with men on bicycles, horses pulling carriages and various delivery carts. Annie held Georgie’s hand tightly as they dodged business men, shopping ladies, shoeshine boys and newspaper carriers shouting out the latest headline. The warm spring breeze soon dried her wet petticoat. They turned down the street towards the docks. She could see the tops of the ships’ masts gently bobbing above the city buildings.

  Annie’s anger evaporated as she took a deep breath and inhaled the briny sea air. She skipped home, tugging Georgie along. A few steps from the house, the children spotted a pair of large, heavy boots neatly aligned on the doorstep.

  Georgie squealed, “Pappa’s here!” He dropped Annie’s hand and raced towards the house.

  The front door flew open and there stood their father with arms wide. Henrik Larsen was a tall, handsome man with a fair Nordic complexion, light blue eyes and short dark hair. His job as a ship’s carpenter kept him away for several months at a time, and he now sported a trim moustache and goatee, to the children’s delight. He had once explained to Annie that the small gold earring in his left ear proved that he had crossed the equator, and it also ensured him of a proper burial should he die in a foreign port.

  In the doorway, Annie’s mother beamed as she watched the family reunion, but said in her Norwegian-English lilt, “Come inside and stop that racket! The neighbours are going to think there are banshees invading the street.”

  They all crowded in, Georgie on their father’s shoulders, Alfie on his back and James and Annie under his arms. They all hung on as
he leaned down to kiss his wife.

  Annie saw that her mother’s cheeks were bright pink from working in the kitchen. Her hair was pinned up into a neat arrangement, with a few light brown strays framing her face. The spring weather was pleasantly warm, but she had had to keep a fire going in the stove to prepare a special meal. Her figure was matronly now that she was in her mid-forties, but she was still attractive. Tiny smile lines were etched in the corners of her eyes. Annie knew that her mother’s one vanity was the small pearl earrings she wore every day. They had been a gift from her husband on their wedding day twenty years ago.

  As Annie’s father gently lifted his young son from his shoulders, their mother asked how Georgie scraped his elbow and knee. The little boy burst into tears and blubbered the whole story, ending with what Annie had said to the Jones boys. Both parents turned to Annie, astonished.

  “Where did you ever hear such language, Annie Larsen?” cried her mother. Now everyone was looking at Annie.

  “I was just so angry with the Jones boys for hurting Georgie.” She felt tears threatening to surface, but she was determined not to cry. “Honestly, I’ve never said those words before. I didn’t even know they were in my head. They just came out!”

  “But where did you hear such language? We are the only Norwegian family in a neighbourhood filled with Welsh and English.” Then the realization hit. “Oh no, it was Jack, wasn’t it?”

  Her mother looked sharply at her father and Annie saw him quickly hide a grin.

  “Well, young lady,” she snapped, turning back to Annie, “that kind of language will earn you extra chores.” To her husband she added, “Jack is going to get a piece of my mind when he comes home. He should be more responsible around his brothers and sister!” She looked around at her children. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, go change out of your school clothes. Annie, I want you to peel the potatoes. And, I never want to hear of you using such language again! Annie felt her face grow warm. She was ashamed to have caused such an upset on her father’s first day home.

  The small, hot kitchen was filled with the pungent aromas of their mother’s Norwegian cooking. Hearty fish soup was simmering on the stove and fresh rye bread was cooling on the table next to baby carrots, potatoes, pickled beets and lingonberry preserves. A large bowl of fresh prawns sat on the counter. Annie wrinkled her nose at her father’s favourite treat, an aged, odoriferous cheese that her parents called gammel ost.

  Later, as the family sat around the table, Annie saw her father smile as he looked at her mother.

  “I have some good news, Mary. I’ve been hired on the Cowrie. We set sail in two months.” Her mother began to speak but he continued. “The ship leaves from South Shields. Two months will give us plenty of time to move back to County Durham and find a place to rent.”

  Jack had stopped eating. He looked at their father. “Do you think I could get hired on a ship when we move? You know I’ve always wanted to sail.”

  Nineteen-year-old Jack was just over six feet tall and well-muscled from his heavy manual work at the brick factory and the odd jobs he picked up on the docks. He resembled his father, with his fair complexion and dark hair. Unlike Annie and their youngest brother, Georgie, Jack was not a scholar and had been earning a wage for a few years now.

  “Well, son, as a matter of fact, I have found you a position with me on the Cowrie!” Jack jumped up and whooped for joy. Their father laughed. “This way you’ll be too far away to teach your sister and brothers any more salty words!”

  “Pappa, thank you! And, Ma,” he added, grabbing her in a hug, “I didn’t teach those words on purpose. They spy on me and my friends!” Their mother begrudgingly gave him a smile. “Pappa,” Jack went on, “I’ll make you proud of me, I will. I’ll work hard and prove that I belong on the ship.”

  “I know you will, Jack.” replied his father, giving his son a playful punch in the arm.

  Annie felt a lump in her throat as she looked around the familiar kitchen. She was happy here in Cardiff. She liked the school and she’d certainly miss her best friends, Gwynneth and Bronwen, when the family moved. But at least they were returning to South Shields, a place she knew, and she was grateful that her father would be home for two months. Her little brothers wouldn’t mind the change because they were young, and she was pleased for Jack’s good fortune.

  Annie’s mother smiled as she got up from the table. “We have so much to celebrate tonight!”

  Alfie, James and Georgie shouted with delight as their mother handed each of them a large portion of pudding. The younger boys barely understood what was being discussed; they were just happy to have a treat. Jack sat back with a wide grin. Dreaming of his coming adventures, Annie guessed. She rose from her chair to hug her father. He returned her hug and planted a kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m so happy you’re home, Pappa,” she whispered.

  Chapter Two

  The children had all been born in the north-east of England, and South Shields had been the home port for Annie’s father’s ship for many years. He had no difficulty finding a place for the family to rent that spring; he knew many people in the area. Their mother soon turned their newly rented house into a home, with familiar furnishings and favourite smells filling the kitchen.

  Summer passed and once again her father was gone, this time taking Jack with him. Annie found the house oddly quiet without them. She missed Jack’s gentle teasing and his kind ways, like how he would sometimes bring home sweets for the boys or pretty ribbons for her. Annie knew that he and her father would be away for many long months. They would eventually return home for a short respite, only to leave again on another voyage. She vowed to herself that although she loved living close to the ocean and walking along the shore in the cool, salty breeze, she would never marry a man of the sea. The goodbyes were too painful and the long absences too solitary. She dreamed of living in a home that she owned, in one place, and never having to move from rental to rental again.

  Over the next few years, while her father and Jack travelled the world with only brief stops at home, Annie, her mother and younger brothers lived comfortably in South Shields. When Annie finished her schooling, she found a sales position in a clothing and hat store. After a couple of years in the shop she applied for a position with an insurance company. It would be wonderful to work in an office and earn more money, she thought. She wore her long, light brown hair pinned up fashionably and people often complimented her on her looks. She admitted to herself that she was a little vain about her appearance but felt that she had to make more of an effort than others; she knew that she looked younger than her eighteen years. She remained petite while all four of her brothers now towered over her.

  Alfie and James had jobs in the shipyards; Georgie was still attending school. Annie and her brothers gave most of their earnings to their mother. Annie often spent quiet evenings with her when the boys were out, Alfie and James working late and Georgie off with his friends. The house seemed small when her brothers were home; they were big, loud young men. Annie was happy to sit in the warmth of the hearth fire with her mother and enjoy a simple meal of hearty vegetable soup and warm wheat bread.

  “Mother,” said Annie one night as she cleared away their dishes. “I have a little gift for you. I bought some lovely Nottingham lace curtains for the parlour window.” She slipped into her bedroom and brought a brown paper package back to her mother. “Moore’s had a sale. They’re absolutely perfect!”

  Her mother protested as she unwrapped the parcel. “Annie, you shouldn’t be spending on such things for me. Oh my, but they’re lovely.”

  “They really were inexpensive. The clerk said that it was a special order that was never picked up. Come, let’s take down these old curtains and brighten up the room.”

  After they’d hung the new lace over the windows, they stood back to admire them. “Thank you, love. They make the room look grand.”

  They tidied up, banked the fire and retired to their bedrooms. But Annie w
as asleep for only a couple of hours, until she awoke with a start from a nightmare. Her heart was racing and she was wet with perspiration despite the chill in the room. In the dream, she’d been on the deck of a ship when a monstrous ocean wave rushed towards her. The wall of sea-water crashed onto the deck, and just as she was heaved overboard, she woke up.

  Knowing that she would not get back to sleep easily, she got out of her bed and tiptoed into the kitchen, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders. Bringing the fire back to life, she replaced the filled kettle to make herself a cup of tea. As she quietly took a cup from the cupboard, her mother shuffled into the room.

  “Did you have that same nightmare again, love?”

  Annie nodded. “I’m sorry if I woke you. Would you like a cup of tea, too?”

  “Ah, you didn’t wake me, dear. I was just tossing and turning in my bed. A cup of tea would be wonderful.”

  They sipped their hot drinks and talked quietly at the kitchen table. Suddenly, her mother covered her mouth with her fingers. She leapt up from her chair to reach for a letter pinned on the wall.

  “I don’t know where my head was tonight. I forgot to give you this! It came in the mail this morning.” She placed it on the table beside Annie’s cup.

  Annie tore open the letter with a thrill of anticipation. “It’s from the insurance office! Listen to this! ‘Dear Miss Larsen, please call and see Mrs. Swales at 2 o’clock on Thursday. Your character is very satisfactory. Yours respectfully, P.T. Smith.’ I think I’ve been hired!”

  Annie danced around the room and hugged her mother. Smiling, her mother asked her what she would wear for her new job.

  “The outfits I’ve bought in the shop should do,” Annie replied, “but I will buy a new hat and gloves.” She was ecstatic at the prospect of working in an office building and earning a higher salary.

  Annie stifled a yawn. “Go back to bed,” said her mother. “You’ll want to be bright-eyed and fresh for tomorrow.”