Intolerable Civility

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Day of Celebration

In late March, just about the time Luke was starting to walk, the quarry was blasted to begin the digging of the mine.

It was a day of celebration for the entire village, or perhaps simply the excuse they needed for one after a long and dreary winter. The weather was fine, if cool, and spring had brought a profusion of wildflowers out over the cliffs and hills. The villagers and local gentry alike came up onto the hills overlooking the mines and settled down on rugs with bottles of ale or wine to watch the blasting.

David and Cate came too, which meant that Sarah had to be invited as well. Since he was going to the trouble of inviting Sarah, David asked his mother and Laurie if they would like to come too, and once Paul heard of what was planned, he insisted on coming with his wife Annabelle and making it what he termed a family affair. Annabelle, however, felt unwell the morning of the blast and stayed at home, which meant that Paul spent the entire squashed drive to the quarry apologizing for her absence and gleefully speculating as to the cause of her illness. Cate was the only one who did not know better, and politely asked questions about her health, which only encouraged Paul. By the time they arrived at the quarry, he was speaking as though a son would be born next week.

They left the horses and curricle with a groom and spread out a blanket and cushions on a slope of flowered grass overlooking the black stone pit of the quarry. Down at the bottom of the pit, men were checking the pellets of black powder where the mine entrance was to be dug and measuring distances with rope and wheels.

"We ought to have champagne," Sarah said, as Cate poured glasses of sherry.

"I find that sherry has a sickening effect upon the stomach," Paul said. "Champagne is much lighter."

"I cannot complain about the choice of wine," Mrs Demery said acidly. "Though I do wonder that it was brought out before a single sandwich offered. Some of us have not had breakfast."

Cate froze where she knelt on the blanket, the bottle of sherry in her hands. David suppressed the irritated thought that it would have been a more pleasant outing had he and Cate come alone.

"I'll drink the sherry," Laurie said generously. "It appears that those around us are drinking beer, Sarah. If you like bubbles so much, perhaps you can beg some?"

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "Don't be silly, Laura. Sherry will suit me. But champagne would have been nicer."

Cate gave Sarah and Laurie glasses of sherry and opened the box of bread rolls and cakes the servants had packed.

"Would you like something to eat, Mrs Demery?" she asked David's mother meekly.

Mrs Demery took a bread roll and a slice of seed cake without a word of thanks. She always had been like that, of course, and it no longer bothered David himself, but he was annoyed to see a blush of embarrassment stain Cate's cheeks. Thankfully, Paul, always interested in food, begged Cate for a taste of everything on offer and was effusively grateful for it all.

At the bottom of the quarry, the men were clearing out of the way of the blast site now. Only the foreman remained by the powder train, a lit torch in hand. He waited until all the others were well out of the way, waved his torch at the watching crowd, then lowered it to the powder train. As soon as smoke started fizzing up, he dashed for the safety of higher ground and scrambled behind a large boulder for shelter. People cheered as the fizz of smoke snaked towards the powder charge. Then it reached it. For several heartbeats, it seemed to David as though the fire had fizzled out. Then there was a tremendous thunder, a flash of black smoke, and the earth trembled beneath them as the quarry rumbled and shifted. The villagers cheered and whistled and opened wine. David laughed with relief. Beside him, Cate smiled uncertainly. He squeezed her hand.